The Biggest Man in New York Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions.

NEW Y YORK'S Police Headquarters at 300 Mulberry Street was a squat, square building with a marble facade long since yellowed by the fumes of Little Italy. Police Headquarters at 300 Mulberry Street was a squat, square building with a marble facade long since yellowed by the fumes of Little Italy.1 Many a Many a stiletto stiletto victim had been carried bleeding up its steep front steps, and countless victim had been carried bleeding up its steep front steps, and countless padrones padrones awaiting indictment had glared through its barred basement windows at a little group of reporters lounging on the stoop of No. 303, across the way. awaiting indictment had glared through its barred basement windows at a little group of reporters lounging on the stoop of No. 303, across the way.

The reporters, in turn, enjoyed one of the more entertaining vistas in Manhattan. Before them stretched a cobbled street, framed on both sides by tenement buildings, and looped around with strings of brilliant laundry. It was an arena always alive with drama, or at least the promise of drama. A sudden singing of the telegraph wires, which untidily connected Police Headquarters with every precinct in the city, might signify riots in Hell's Kitchen, or a brothel-bust in the Tenderloin; sooner or later the latest victims of the law would be delivered in shiny patrol-wagons, and the press would dash across to meet them, pencils and pads at the ready.

Even when Mulberry Street was sunk in Monday-morning calm, as around ten o'clock on 6 May 1895,2 the stoop-sitters were loath to quit their airy perch for the "newspaper offices" upstairs-actually just stifling cells of the kind that, elsewhere in the neighborhood, sheltered whole families. As long as the breeze did not blow uptown from the reeking slums of Mulberry Bend, a man could enjoy his cigar, play poker, and shout humorous insults at the cop on duty opposite. If the sun grew uncomfortably hot, he could send around the corner for iced oysters at a penny each, or stop a passing the stoop-sitters were loath to quit their airy perch for the "newspaper offices" upstairs-actually just stifling cells of the kind that, elsewhere in the neighborhood, sheltered whole families. As long as the breeze did not blow uptown from the reeking slums of Mulberry Bend, a man could enjoy his cigar, play poker, and shout humorous insults at the cop on duty opposite. If the sun grew uncomfortably hot, he could send around the corner for iced oysters at a penny each, or stop a passing aguajolo aguajolo for fresh lemonade. for fresh lemonade.

"Many a stiletto stiletto victim had been carried bleeding up its steep front steps." victim had been carried bleeding up its steep front steps."

Police Headquarters, Mulberry Street, New York City. (Illustration 19.1) Lincoln Steffens, the talented young correspondent of the Evening Post Evening Post, was on the stoop that day when Jacob Riis of the Evening Sun Evening Sun came out into the street shouting a telephone message. Theodore Roosevelt had just been sworn in as Police Commissioner at City Hall, eighteen blocks south: he and his three colleagues were already on their way to headquarters to relieve the outgoing Commissioners. came out into the street shouting a telephone message. Theodore Roosevelt had just been sworn in as Police Commissioner at City Hall, eighteen blocks south: he and his three colleagues were already on their way to headquarters to relieve the outgoing Commissioners.3 The news came as no surprise to Steffens. Riis was an old and worshipful friend of Roosevelt's, and had been gloating over his appointment for weeks. It was the will of God that such a reformer should be chosen to purge the notoriously corrupt New York police. Neither did Riis doubt that his man would become president of the new Police Board. "I don't care who the other Commissioners are. TR is enough."4 About half-past ten an interestingly varied quartet walked around the corner. Leading the way was the bull-necked, bull-chested figure of Theodore Roosevelt. Behind him came a dumpy, middle-aged man bearing an uncanny resemblance to Ulysses S. Grant, and a military-looking youth, very tall and very pale, with a nervous vein beating in his temple. The fourth man seemed to walk somehow apart from the other Commissioners, although he was obviously their coequal-a handsome, lounging, bearded dandy of about thirty-five. Steffens identified them in turn as Frederick D. Grant (R), an upstate politician and eldest son of the great general; Avery D. Andrews (D), a graduate of West Point and a rather undistinguished lawyer; and Andrew D. Parker (D), also a lawyer, but one of the cleverest in the city, and a rumored agent of the County Democratic organization.5 Roosevelt broke into a run when he caught sight of Riis waiting outside No. 303. As Steffens remembered it, He came on ahead down the street; he yelled, "Hello, Jake," to Riis, and running up the stairs to the front door of Police Headquarters, he waved us reporters to follow. We did. With the police officials standing around watching, the new Board went up to the second story...TR seized Riis, who introduced me, and still running, he asked questions: "Where are our offices? Where is the Board Room? What do we do first?" Out of the half-heard answers he gathered the way to the Board Room, where the three old Commissioners waited, like three of the new Commissioners, stiff, formal and dignified. Not TR. He introduced himself, his colleagues, with handshakes, and called a meeting of the new Board...had himself elected President-this had been prearranged-and then adjourned to pull Riis and me with him into his office."Now, then, what'll we do?"6 Avery Andrews, writing more than sixty years later, confirmed the accuracy of this account, with the small qualification that Roosevelt's election had not not been prearranged. "As the senior Commissioner in length of service, I called the meeting to order and nominated Roosevelt as President of the Board; after which I was elected Treasurer." been prearranged. "As the senior Commissioner in length of service, I called the meeting to order and nominated Roosevelt as President of the Board; after which I was elected Treasurer."7 Thus some semblance of bipartisanship was preserved at the outset by distributing control of the Police Department between the two political parties. Thus some semblance of bipartisanship was preserved at the outset by distributing control of the Police Department between the two political parties.

"The public," Roosevelt announced in his first presidential statement, "may rest assured that so far as I am concerned, there will be no politics in the department, and I know that I voice the sentiment of my colleagues in that respect. We are all activated by the desire to so regulate this department that it will earn the respect and confidence of the community.... All appointments and promotions will be made for merit only, and without regard to political or religious considerations."8

ALTHOUGH R ROOSEVELT WAS doubtless pleased to have been given pride of place among his colleagues, he found, within two days of taking office, that the honor was merely titular. On 8 May 1895, Mayor Strong approved an Albany bill which substantially altered the power structure of the New York police. doubtless pleased to have been given pride of place among his colleagues, he found, within two days of taking office, that the honor was merely titular. On 8 May 1895, Mayor Strong approved an Albany bill which substantially altered the power structure of the New York police.9 Far from elevating the president of the Board above the other Commissioners (as a certain Assemblyman named Roosevelt had suggested in 1884), the Bi-Partisan Police Act depressed him to virtually the same level. Since two Board members were necessarily Republicans, and the other two Democrats, agenda tending to divide the parties would inevitably cause deadlock. Roosevelt knew that these could be resolved only by deal-making or by wrangling. Neither solution appealed to him. The new law, he wrote sarcastically, "modeled the government of the police force somewhat on the lines of the Polish Parliament." Far from elevating the president of the Board above the other Commissioners (as a certain Assemblyman named Roosevelt had suggested in 1884), the Bi-Partisan Police Act depressed him to virtually the same level. Since two Board members were necessarily Republicans, and the other two Democrats, agenda tending to divide the parties would inevitably cause deadlock. Roosevelt knew that these could be resolved only by deal-making or by wrangling. Neither solution appealed to him. The new law, he wrote sarcastically, "modeled the government of the police force somewhat on the lines of the Polish Parliament."10 It virtually guaranteed that, contrary to what he had just announced, there was going to be plenty of politics-as-usual in the Police Department, from the Board on down. One of the Act's provisions, frustrating to him as a former campaigner against partisan patronage, was to transfer authority over police examinations from the municipal civil-service commission to a special panel of police officers-each of whom, presumably, would be easily bought. The Act insisted, further, on equal two-party representation while extending the Police Board's control of city elections. This in effect gave the Republican party-a perennial minority in New York municipal affairs-disproportionate clout in "supervising" voter behavior. At the same time, crazily, it seemed designed to thwart any majority decision by the Commissioners. "Lest we should get such a majority, it gave each member power to veto the actions of his colleagues in certain very important matters; and, lest we should do too much when we were unanimous, it provided that the Chief [of Police], our nominal subordinate, should have entirely independent action...and should be practically irremovable."11 The Chief, moreover, was a formidable figure. Commissioners might come and go, but Thomas F. Byrnes bestrode Mulberry Street with the solidity of a Colossus. At fifty-three, he bade fair to outlast the present Board well into the next century. Byrnes was internationally famous as a detective of almost mystic power, capable of retrieving stolen property at will. "Enough," he would say soothingly to a distraught Fifth Avenue matron, "your diamonds will be delivered at your house within three days." Invariably they were.12 Cynical observers, like Lincoln Steffens, noted that such spectacular achievements were the result of a comfortable arrangement with organized crime. The Chief allowed certain lords of the underworld carte blanche, providing their gangs worked regular beats, and cooperated whenever he asked them to return this or that haul for publicity purposes. It was also agreed that the gangs would stay away from the financial district, for Byrnes had another comfortable arrangement with the lords of Wall Street. Capitalists like Jay Gould did not wish to be disturbed by petty bank heists while they went about the larger business of robbing the United States Treasury, and they were prepared to reward Byrnes for his protection with favored stocks and bonds. As a result, the Chief prospered mightily; by 1895 he was worth at least $350,000, according to his own public estimate. Cynical observers, like Lincoln Steffens, noted that such spectacular achievements were the result of a comfortable arrangement with organized crime. The Chief allowed certain lords of the underworld carte blanche, providing their gangs worked regular beats, and cooperated whenever he asked them to return this or that haul for publicity purposes. It was also agreed that the gangs would stay away from the financial district, for Byrnes had another comfortable arrangement with the lords of Wall Street. Capitalists like Jay Gould did not wish to be disturbed by petty bank heists while they went about the larger business of robbing the United States Treasury, and they were prepared to reward Byrnes for his protection with favored stocks and bonds. As a result, the Chief prospered mightily; by 1895 he was worth at least $350,000, according to his own public estimate.13 Graft on so majestic a scale could not be expected of other police officers, but Byrnes's example was an inspiration to all, and the corruption elsewhere was proportionate, according to rank. Reporting directly to the Chief were three inspectors, whose corpulent figures and gold-laced uniforms amply symbolized the rewards of office. Then came thirty-five Captains, each of whom controlled a precinct, and the revenues thereof.14 Officers from high-vice areas like the Tenderloin waxed noticeably richer than their colleagues. However even the poorest precinct was worth several thousand a year if properly organized. A regular system of "taxation" prevailed in most parts of town, whereby the owner of any business, legal or illegal, paid dues based on turnover. Greengrocers would hand over a dollar or two a day for permission to stack fruit on the sidewalk. Owners of gambling houses set aside $15 to $300 a month as insurance against raids. Saloons paid $10,000 for a liquor license; the madam of a brothel might contribute $30,000 over an extended period to her precinct captain, along with more intimate favors upon request. Officers from high-vice areas like the Tenderloin waxed noticeably richer than their colleagues. However even the poorest precinct was worth several thousand a year if properly organized. A regular system of "taxation" prevailed in most parts of town, whereby the owner of any business, legal or illegal, paid dues based on turnover. Greengrocers would hand over a dollar or two a day for permission to stack fruit on the sidewalk. Owners of gambling houses set aside $15 to $300 a month as insurance against raids. Saloons paid $10,000 for a liquor license; the madam of a brothel might contribute $30,000 over an extended period to her precinct captain, along with more intimate favors upon request.15 Another form of corruption-job-peddling-flourished within the Police Department itself. Since there were at least two qualified applicants for every one of the force's thirty-eight thousand positions, certain market values prevailed. In 1894 the going rate for a captaincy was $10,000, although some men had been known to pay $12,000 to $15,000 in hard currency.16 At the opposite end of the scale, appointment as a patrolman could be had for $300-even that was much more than most recruits were able to pay. Examining officers explained kindly that the investment would soon be recouped on the beat. At the opposite end of the scale, appointment as a patrolman could be had for $300-even that was much more than most recruits were able to pay. Examining officers explained kindly that the investment would soon be recouped on the beat.17 All these sums were a matter of common notoriety when Roosevelt took office. Only four months before, an investigating committee of the New York State Senate, headed by Clarence L. Lexow (R), had published them in a sensational report recommending "an indictment against the Police Department of New York City as a whole." The 10,576-page document, which represented the most searching municipal probe since the days of the Tweed Ring, included a sample police "budget," as follows: Regular Appropriation $5,139,147.64 $5,139,147.64.

Brothel Contributions 8,120,000.00 8,120,000.00.

Saloon Contributions 1,820,000.00 1,820,000.00.

Gambling-house Contributions 165,000.00 165,000.00.

Merchants, peddlers etc.

50,000.00 50,000.00.

New Members of Force 60,000.00 60,000.00.

Grand Total: $15,354,147.64 $15,354,147.64.

The fact that such figures were now quoted in guidebooks to the city, along with the height of the Statue of Liberty and the length of the Brooklyn Bridge, was indicative of the weary tolerance with which police bribery was regarded.18 The memoirs of Commissioners Andrews and Roosevelt differ as to the true extent of corruption in their department in May 1895. Andrews, who had a military fondness for men in uniform, believed that "the great majority of the rank and file were honest and efficient...Graft was largely confined to certain senior officers, and their 'wardmen', or graft collectors."19 Roosevelt expressed himself rather more negatively. "From top to bottom," he wrote, "the New York police force was utterly demoralized by the gangrene...venality and blackmail went hand-in-hand with the basest forms of low ward politics...the policeman, the ward politician, the liquor seller, and the criminal alternately preyed on one another and helped one another to prey on the general public." Roosevelt expressed himself rather more negatively. "From top to bottom," he wrote, "the New York police force was utterly demoralized by the gangrene...venality and blackmail went hand-in-hand with the basest forms of low ward politics...the policeman, the ward politician, the liquor seller, and the criminal alternately preyed on one another and helped one another to prey on the general public."20 Of course the truth lay somewhere between these two extremes. However both Commissioners, in referring to wardmen and ward politics, emphasized that the Police Department was not in business merely for itself. Its traditional function, indeed, was to finance the city's political machines. Often the person collecting "contributions" around each precinct at the end of the week was not a policeman at all, but an employee of Tammany Hall.21 The vast sums thus accrued had kept the Democratic organization in power from 1886 (the year Abram Hewitt defeated Theodore Roosevelt for Mayor) until 1894, when mounting disgust over the Lexow hearings swept the reform ticket to victory. The vast sums thus accrued had kept the Democratic organization in power from 1886 (the year Abram Hewitt defeated Theodore Roosevelt for Mayor) until 1894, when mounting disgust over the Lexow hearings swept the reform ticket to victory.

As a result of this near-decade of corrupt domination of New York City politics, Tammany Hall had become so solidly entrenched that Mayor Strong's election seemed but a temporary interruption of the status quo. "Our people could not stand the rotten police corruption," Boss Richard Croker admitted. "They'll be back at the next election; they can't stand reform either."22 Croker's confidence was based on the fact that the Police Board also constituted the Board of Elections. This useful quirk in the law gave the four Commissioners power to appoint all election officers, prepare and count all ballots, and preserve order-or willful disorder-at the polls.23 Croker's last tame Commissioner on Mulberry Street had boasted that "given control of the police, he cared not how the public voted." Croker's last tame Commissioner on Mulberry Street had boasted that "given control of the police, he cared not how the public voted."24 Croker could have rigged the last election, as he had others in the past; but, being a political realist, he deemed it wiser not to play with the passions aroused by the Lexow investigation. Tammany Hall could afford to put up its shutters for a season or two. Its precinct organization was as perfect as ever, and its financial prospects were excellent. Corruption in the Police Department would continue, Roosevelt or no Roosevelt. Croker could have rigged the last election, as he had others in the past; but, being a political realist, he deemed it wiser not to play with the passions aroused by the Lexow investigation. Tammany Hall could afford to put up its shutters for a season or two. Its precinct organization was as perfect as ever, and its financial prospects were excellent. Corruption in the Police Department would continue, Roosevelt or no Roosevelt.25

"NOW, THEN, what'll we do?" Roosevelt's impetuous question sounded odd in the ears of the two reporters as they sat in his office on the first day of his Commissionership. "It was just as if we three were the Police Board," marveled Lincoln Steffens, "TR, Riis, and I." Willing as both men were to suggest what and whom Roosevelt might attack-for he was clearly in a fighting mood-they cautioned him to "go a bit slow" at first, and to discuss a program of reform with his colleagues.26 But Roosevelt knew he could achieve little in this job by proceeding deliberately; it was about as powerful, in constitutional terms, as his last. Once again he must exercise his genius for press relations. Instinct told him that these scribes would be of more use to him than the three Commissioners now waiting in the hallway. But Roosevelt knew he could achieve little in this job by proceeding deliberately; it was about as powerful, in constitutional terms, as his last. Once again he must exercise his genius for press relations. Instinct told him that these scribes would be of more use to him than the three Commissioners now waiting in the hallway.27 Jacob Riis, at forty-six, was the most influential reporter in the city. A big, rumpled, noisy, sweet-natured Dane, he had been obsessed with social reform ever since his youth as a penniless immigrant on the Lower East Side. (Deep within him he carried the memory of a policeman beating out the brains of his pet dog against the steps of Church Street Station.)28 In 1890 Riis's documentary book In 1890 Riis's documentary book How the Other Half Lives How the Other Half Lives, illustrated with his own photographs, had shocked all thinking Americans into awareness of the horrors of the ghetto. Not long after its publication, he had found a card from Theodore Roosevelt on his desk, with the scrawled message, "I have read your book, and I have come to help."29 A meeting had been arranged, and the Dane, by his own admission, fell in love at first sight. A meeting had been arranged, and the Dane, by his own admission, fell in love at first sight.30 Now, five years later, God had appointed Roosevelt president of the Police Board; the promised help was at hand. Now, five years later, God had appointed Roosevelt president of the Police Board; the promised help was at hand.

There is no record of Roosevelt's first impression of Lincoln Steffens, but subsequent evidence indicates that he understood the young man shrewdly. Steffens was twenty-nine years old; thin, vain, arrogant, wolfishly ambitious, with the beady eye of a born investigative reporter. He had no false sentiment (unlike Riis, who refused to cover raids on homosexual brothels, on the grounds that "there are no such creatures in this world").31 Roosevelt knew just how to handle Steffens. A mild scoop every now and again; indulgent nods when he ventured some criticism; a few flattering requests for advice-like "Now, then, what'll we do?"-and the reporter would be his man. In return, Roosevelt could be sure of a constant supply of raw political information, and much useful gossip. Roosevelt knew just how to handle Steffens. A mild scoop every now and again; indulgent nods when he ventured some criticism; a few flattering requests for advice-like "Now, then, what'll we do?"-and the reporter would be his man. In return, Roosevelt could be sure of a constant supply of raw political information, and much useful gossip.32 Commissioner Parker was not pleased at having to wait outside Roosevelt's office, and was heard to grumble, "Thinks he's the whole Board." For most of that first day, however, the four new colleagues acted harmoniously. They laughed and chatted together,33 and each seemed pleased with his agreed-on responsibilities. Parker was given the glamorous and important job of reorganizing the Detective Bureau. Roosevelt showed further confidence in his political integrity by naming him chairman of the Committee of Elections. Grant was made overseer of repairs and supplies, and chairman of the Disciplinary Committee. The military Andrews was asked to draw up a new set of rules designed to tighten efficiency and ensure accountability in the ranks, in addition to his duties as treasurer. Roosevelt, who enjoyed ex officio a seat on all committees, announced that he would concern himself with problems of overall administration, and would act as press spokesman for the entire Board. and each seemed pleased with his agreed-on responsibilities. Parker was given the glamorous and important job of reorganizing the Detective Bureau. Roosevelt showed further confidence in his political integrity by naming him chairman of the Committee of Elections. Grant was made overseer of repairs and supplies, and chairman of the Disciplinary Committee. The military Andrews was asked to draw up a new set of rules designed to tighten efficiency and ensure accountability in the ranks, in addition to his duties as treasurer. Roosevelt, who enjoyed ex officio a seat on all committees, announced that he would concern himself with problems of overall administration, and would act as press spokesman for the entire Board.34

JUST HOW SUCCESSFUL he was in the latter capacity may be judged from the following collage of newspaper headlines and cartoon captions, representing his first ten days in office: he was in the latter capacity may be judged from the following collage of newspaper headlines and cartoon captions, representing his first ten days in office: ROOSEVELT'S NEW GIRL SECRETARYThe Police Board President Causes Sensation onMulberry StreetREIGN OF TERROR AT POLICE HEADQUARTERSMerit Wins Promotion Now-Political Pulls Frowned UponRATTLED-THE DRY OLD POLICE BONESKick the Politicians, Lecture the LegislatureSnub the Roundsmen, Warn the Drunken BluecoatsAbolish the Police Parades, & Stir upDepartmental SurgeonsROOSEVELT AS JUDGEThe Reform Commissioner Tries Nearly100 Policemen in One Day"Pulls" Found Worthless Before the InquisitorWith Big Teeth and Rasping Voice35 A subhead in the World World summed up the new Commissioner's policy in these words: summed up the new Commissioner's policy in these words: Publicity, publicity, publicity. Publicity, publicity, publicity.36 He seemed determined to expose to general scrutiny every aspect of his department's work, from transcripts of Board meetings to dossiers on the moral fitness of officers for promotion. His habit of inviting reporters to spend the day in his big, bare office made it difficult for the representatives of political organizations to have private speech with him. Whenever the politicians began to whisper, he would deliberately answer "in a voice loud enough to be heard across the room." He seemed determined to expose to general scrutiny every aspect of his department's work, from transcripts of Board meetings to dossiers on the moral fitness of officers for promotion. His habit of inviting reporters to spend the day in his big, bare office made it difficult for the representatives of political organizations to have private speech with him. Whenever the politicians began to whisper, he would deliberately answer "in a voice loud enough to be heard across the room."37 The white glare of all this publicity inevitably focused much attention upon Roosevelt the man. A lead article in the World World of 17 May shows with what clarity he stamped his image on the pages of the press. Although the article purported to describe a routine trial of police officers for infractions of discipline, it dwelt with fascinated relish upon the judge's physical peculiarities, and survives as a documentary portrait of Theodore Roosevelt at thirty-six: of 17 May shows with what clarity he stamped his image on the pages of the press. Although the article purported to describe a routine trial of police officers for infractions of discipline, it dwelt with fascinated relish upon the judge's physical peculiarities, and survives as a documentary portrait of Theodore Roosevelt at thirty-six: When he asks a question, Mr. Roosevelt shoots it at the poor trembling policeman as he would shoot a bullet at a coyote.... he shows a set of teeth calculated to unnerve the bravest of the Finest. His teeth are very white and almost as big as a colt's teeth. They are broad teeth, they form a perfectly straight line. The lower teeth look like a row of dominoes. They do not lap over or under each other, as most teeth do, but come together evenly...They seem to say: "Tell the truth to your Commissioner, or he'll bite your head off."Generally speaking, this interesting Commissioner's face is red. He has lived a great deal out of doors, and that accounts for it. His hair is thick and short...Under his right ear he has a long scar. It is the opinion of all the policemen who have talked with him that he got that scar fighting an Indian out West. It is also their opinion that the Indian is dead.But Mr. Roosevelt's voice is the policeman's hardest trial. It is an exasperating voice, a sharp voice, a rasping voice. It is a voice that comes from the tips of the teeth and seems to say in its tones, "What do you amount to, anyway?"One thing our noble force may make up its mind to at once-it must do as Roosevelt says, for it is not likely that it will succeed in beating him.38 Jacob Riis, reporting another trial for the Evening Sun Evening Sun, noted how impossible it was for Roosevelt to yield conduct of the court to any of his colleagues. Within a quarter of an hour (although Andrews had the chair) he was putting all the questions and interrupting most of the answers. "Once or twice he turned to Commissioner Andrews and apologized...but by the time the third case ended there was no longer any apparent need to do that."39 Andrews did not mind being upstaged, and Grant liked nothing so much as to sit and stare into space, but Parker, Roosevelt quickly sensed, needed careful handling. Fortunately the Democrat seemed to prefer working behind the scenes. Immaculate of trouser-leg, dark and glossy of beard, he would loll in his chair with fingers intertwined, smiling easily and often. He projected an air of fashionable languor, coming to work late, leaving early, not bothering to attend many board meetings; yet there was a certain "sinister efficiency"40 about the way he got things done that Roosevelt greatly admired. "Parker is my mainstay," he wrote Lodge. "He is able and forceful, but a little inclined to be tricky. Andrews is good but timid, and 'sticks in the bark.' Grant is a good fellow, but dull and easily imposed on; he is our element of weakness." about the way he got things done that Roosevelt greatly admired. "Parker is my mainstay," he wrote Lodge. "He is able and forceful, but a little inclined to be tricky. Andrews is good but timid, and 'sticks in the bark.' Grant is a good fellow, but dull and easily imposed on; he is our element of weakness."41 Roosevelt found his new duties "absorbingly interesting,"42 and threw himself into them with animal vigor. His daily arrival at Mulberry Street became a ritual entertainment for the stoop-sitters of No. 303. About 8:30 he would come around the corner of Bleecker Street, walking with a springy tread, goggling his spectacles enthusiastically at everything around, about, and behind him. There was a rapid increase in pace as he drew near Police Headquarters, followed by a flying ascent of the front steps. Ahead of him in the lobby, a uniformed porter would step into the waiting elevator and reach for its controls; but by that time Roosevelt, feet blurring, was already halfway up the stairs. Arriving on the second floor with no perceptible rise or fall of his chest, he would scurry across the hallway into his office overlooking the street. Here, one morning, a reporter was on hand to note that "He swings the chair, sits down, and takes off his glasses and his hat, all so quickly that he appears to be doing [everything] at once." and threw himself into them with animal vigor. His daily arrival at Mulberry Street became a ritual entertainment for the stoop-sitters of No. 303. About 8:30 he would come around the corner of Bleecker Street, walking with a springy tread, goggling his spectacles enthusiastically at everything around, about, and behind him. There was a rapid increase in pace as he drew near Police Headquarters, followed by a flying ascent of the front steps. Ahead of him in the lobby, a uniformed porter would step into the waiting elevator and reach for its controls; but by that time Roosevelt, feet blurring, was already halfway up the stairs. Arriving on the second floor with no perceptible rise or fall of his chest, he would scurry across the hallway into his office overlooking the street. Here, one morning, a reporter was on hand to note that "He swings the chair, sits down, and takes off his glasses and his hat, all so quickly that he appears to be doing [everything] at once."43 Replacing the glasses with pince-nez, Roosevelt would "fling his attention" at the first document in front of him. Read, digested, and acted upon, the item would be given to his "girl secretary" Replacing the glasses with pince-nez, Roosevelt would "fling his attention" at the first document in front of him. Read, digested, and acted upon, the item would be given to his "girl secretary"44 for filing, or, often as not, dispensed with in Rooseveltian fashion, i.e., crushed into a ball and hurled to the floor. By the end of the day the area around his desk was ankle-deep in paper jetsam. for filing, or, often as not, dispensed with in Rooseveltian fashion, i.e., crushed into a ball and hurled to the floor. By the end of the day the area around his desk was ankle-deep in paper jetsam.45 "I wonder he does not wear himself out," sighed Commissioner Grant. "I wonder he does not wear himself out," sighed Commissioner Grant.46 On 13 May, Roosevelt admitted to Bamie (who was now on an extended stay in London, and had rented him her house at 689 Madison Avenue) that "I have never worked harder than in these last six days." In subsequent letters he altered the clause to read, "the last two weeks," and "the last four weeks."47 Hard as it was to familiarize himself with every detail of police bureaucracy, there was the intense, additional frustration of finding himself without real administrative authority. "I have to deal with three colleagues, solve terribly difficult problems, and do my work under hampering laws," he wrote, in one of his perennial cries for power. "...I have the most important and corrupt department in New York on my hands. I shall speedily assail some of the ablest, shrewdest men in this city, who will be fighting for their lives, and I know how hard the task ahead of me is. Yet, in spite of all the nervous strain and worry, I am glad I undertook it; for it is a man's work." Hard as it was to familiarize himself with every detail of police bureaucracy, there was the intense, additional frustration of finding himself without real administrative authority. "I have to deal with three colleagues, solve terribly difficult problems, and do my work under hampering laws," he wrote, in one of his perennial cries for power. "...I have the most important and corrupt department in New York on my hands. I shall speedily assail some of the ablest, shrewdest men in this city, who will be fighting for their lives, and I know how hard the task ahead of me is. Yet, in spite of all the nervous strain and worry, I am glad I undertook it; for it is a man's work."48 Being congenitally unable to function unless he had some symbols of evil to attack, Roosevelt looked about him for an opponent. As usual he selected the biggest and nearest. "I think I shall move against Byrnes at once," he told Lodge on 18 May. "I thoroughly distrust him, and cannot do any thorough work while he remains. Being congenitally unable to function unless he had some symbols of evil to attack, Roosevelt looked about him for an opponent. As usual he selected the biggest and nearest. "I think I shall move against Byrnes at once," he told Lodge on 18 May. "I thoroughly distrust him, and cannot do any thorough work while he remains.49 The Chief of Police was not afraid of righteous persecution. He had survived threats against himself, and against "the business," as policemen were wont to call their profession, many times before. "It will break you," he warned Roosevelt. "You will yield. You are but human."50 Yet, for a Colossus, he toppled with surprising ease. Nine days after Roosevelt's declaration, Byrnes was out. The same law which had so recently elevated him to supreme command of the force, also permitted him to retire on full pension, along with any other officer who had served twenty-five years and wished to escape embarrassing questions from the reform Board. Threatened with public investigation, he handed in his resignation on 28 May, and strode heavily out of Police Headquarters. "Men stopped and stood to watch him go, silent, respectful, sad," wrote Lincoln Steffens, "and the next day, the world went on as usual."51 A second symbolic departure in the last week of May was that of Inspector "Clubber" Williams. This notoriously brutal officer had earned his nickname cracking skulls on the Lower East Side, while also earning a fortune which he solemnly ascribed to real-estate speculation in Japan. Williams was the pet peeve of Steffens, who told Roosevelt he would love to see him fired. "Well, you will" was the answer.52 A few days later [24 May] TR threw up his second-story window, leaned out, and yelled his famous cowboy call, "Hi yi yi." He often summoned Riis and me thus. When we poked our heads out of my window across the street this time, he called me alone."Not you, Jake. Steffens, come up here."I hurried over to his office, and there in the hall stood Williams, who glared as usual at me with eyes that looked like clubs. I passed on in to TR, who bade me sit down on a certain chair in the back of the room. Then he summoned Williams and fired him; that is to say, he forced him to retire. It was done almost without words. Williams had been warned; the papers were all ready. He "signed there," rose, turned and looked at me, and disappeared.53 According to Commissioner Andrews, the resignations of Byrnes and Williams "shook the force from top to bottom." Men in the ranks felt puzzled and insecure in the power vacuum that followed. They hesitated to accept Roosevelt's authority until Acting Chief Peter Conlin, a quiet, colorless ex-inspector, revealed whose side he was on. In the meantime there could be no doubt that the president of the Board had scored a double personal triumph.

Roosevelt boasted publicly that "the work of reforming the force was half done, because it was well begun." The World World agreed with him. "More than half the difficulty of police reform lay in the principle of corruption inherent in the old machine organization, and firmly established by years of toleration...the removal of [Byrnes and Williams] renders the further work of improvement comparatively easy." agreed with him. "More than half the difficulty of police reform lay in the principle of corruption inherent in the old machine organization, and firmly established by years of toleration...the removal of [Byrnes and Williams] renders the further work of improvement comparatively easy."54 Roosevelt now turned his attention to questions of efficiency and discipline in the force. With shrewd flair for melodrama, he chose to begin his investigations at night.55

SHORTLY AFTER 2:00 A.M. on 7 June 1895, a stocky, bespectacled figure emerged from the Union League Club and stood on the steps overlooking Fifth Avenue. Although the night was warm, he turned the collar of his evening coat up and pulled a soft hat low over his eyes. Presently a shaggy man in dark green glasses joined him, and the pair began walking eastward along Forty-second Street. Some suspicious club attendants, accompanied by a night watchman, followed them until satisfied that whatever mischief they planned was going to take place somewhere else.

Turning down Third Avenue, Roosevelt and his companion, who was none other than Jacob Riis, walked south as far as Twenty-seventh Street without seeing a single policeman. Second Avenue was better patrolled, in that at least one officer was on the beat. But as the hours wore on, and the searchers continued to prowl around the East Side, it became apparent that New York's Finest were also among its rarest. Roosevelt and Riis were standing outside an all-night restaurant when the owner came out, rapped the sidewalk with a stick, and gazed angrily up and down the deserted street. "Where in thunder does that copper sleep?" he asked, unaware that he was addressing the president of the Police Board.56 Later Roosevelt swooped incognito upon a roundsman and two patrolmen conversing outside a corner liquor store. "Why don't you two men patrol your posts?" The loiterers seemed inclined to respond violently until he introduced himself, whereupon they marched off in a hurry.57 Elsewhere Roosevelt discovered an officer snoring on a butter-tub, and another "partly concealed," as the Elsewhere Roosevelt discovered an officer snoring on a butter-tub, and another "partly concealed," as the Tribune Tribune discreetly put it, "by petticoats." discreetly put it, "by petticoats."58 The result of this expedition was that the Commissioner had six names and numbers entered in his pocketbook by 7:15 A.M. 7:15 A.M., when he returned to Mulberry Street to begin the next day's work. A reporter noted that he looked "tired and worn" as he strode up the steps of Headquarters. Yet he was obviously in a good humor-so much so he could not bring himself to punish the offenders when they were brought before him at 9:30. However he announced afterward that "I certainly shall...deal severely with the next roundsman or patrolman I find guilty of any similar shortcomings."59 Newspaper coverage that afternoon and the following morning was everything he could have desired. "ROOSEVELT AS ROUNDSMAN" one headline declaimed. "Policemen Didn't Dream the President of the Board Was Catching Them Napping," read another. "He Makes the Night Hideous for Sleepy Patrolmen," reported a third. Even more gratifying were fulsome editorials of praise, in other cities as well as New York. It was generally agreed that "a new epoch" had begun in the Police Department, and that Roosevelt, not Peter Conlin, was its real Chief.60 The The Brooklyn Times Brooklyn Times rejoiced that wanton clubbing of New Yorkers would now decline; no cop would wish his nightstick "to collide with the head of the ubiquitous Theodore." The Washington rejoiced that wanton clubbing of New Yorkers would now decline; no cop would wish his nightstick "to collide with the head of the ubiquitous Theodore." The Washington Star Star suggested that all members of the force should memorize Roosevelt's features, so as to be prepared for trouble whenever teeth and spectacles came out of the darkness. suggested that all members of the force should memorize Roosevelt's features, so as to be prepared for trouble whenever teeth and spectacles came out of the darkness.61 On his next "night patrol," which took place in the small hours of 14 June, Roosevelt was accompanied by Commissioner Andrews and Richard Harding Davis, the roving correspondent of Harper's Monthly. Harper's Monthly.62 The three young men entered the Thirteenth precinct, on the Lower East Side, soon after midnight, and began a systematic search of its clammy caverns. This was distinctly ghetto territory: ill-lit, badly sanitized, the air around Union Market heavy with the smells of The three young men entered the Thirteenth precinct, on the Lower East Side, soon after midnight, and began a systematic search of its clammy caverns. This was distinctly ghetto territory: ill-lit, badly sanitized, the air around Union Market heavy with the smells of schmaltz schmaltz and blood-soaked kosher salt. Roosevelt, who as president of the Police Board was also a member of the Board of Health, made a note to hasten the closing of the long-condemned slaughterhouse. and blood-soaked kosher salt. Roosevelt, who as president of the Police Board was also a member of the Board of Health, made a note to hasten the closing of the long-condemned slaughterhouse.63 What policemen could be seen wandering through pale orbs of gaslight were all doing their duty conscientiously. "You are to be congratulated, sir," said Roosevelt, materializing in front of a startled sergeant at 1:55 A.M. 1:55 A.M., "this precinct is well patrolled."64 He visited the station-house men's room and emerged laughing: its graffiti included a sketch of himself prowling the streets. He visited the station-house men's room and emerged laughing: its graffiti included a sketch of himself prowling the streets.65 Clearly the message was getting through to the ranks. The only delinquent discovered on the whole East Side that night was Patrolman William E. Rath, who forsook his beat for an oyster saloon on upper Third Avenue. Here, according to the Excise Herald Excise Herald, the following dialogue took place: ROOSEVELT R RATH.

(entering) (entering) Why aren't you on your post, officer? Why aren't you on your post, officer? (deliberately swallowing oyster) (deliberately swallowing oyster) What the--is it to you? What the--is it to you?

COUNTER M MAN.

You gotta good nerve, comin' in here and interferin' with an officer. You gotta good nerve, comin' in here and interferin' with an officer.

ROOSEVELT.

I'm Commissioner Roosevelt. I'm Commissioner Roosevelt.

RATH.

(reaching for vinegar bottle) (reaching for vinegar bottle) Yes, you are. You're Grover Cleveland and Mayor Strong all in a bunch, you are. Move on now, or- Yes, you are. You're Grover Cleveland and Mayor Strong all in a bunch, you are. Move on now, or- COUNTER M MAN.

(in a horrified whisper) (in a horrified whisper) Shut up, Bill, it's His Nibs, sure, don't you spot his glasses? Shut up, Bill, it's His Nibs, sure, don't you spot his glasses?

ROOSEVELT.

(authoritatively) (authoritatively) Go to your post at once. Go to your post at once.

(EXIT patrolman, running) (EXIT patrolman, running)66

At 3:00 A.M 3:00 A.M. the night-walkers retired to Mike Lyon's all-night restaurant on the Bowery for steaks, salad, and beer. Little notice was taken of them at first, until an alert reporter identified the two Commissioners, and word spread quickly from table to table. Even the chef came out to stare. Roosevelt was obliged to hold an impromptu press conference before he could proceed with his steak.67 Refreshed, he escorted his companions over to the West Side for a tour of the Fifteenth and Nineteenth precincts-the latter being the notorious Tenderloin district. Here things were much less satisfactory. No fewer than seven patrolmen were found to be off their posts, including three who had literally to be awakened to a sense of their duties. Roosevelt jotted down their names and numbers in his pocketbook, and, much later in the day, handed the list to Chief Conlin, saying, "This time there will be no mercy." At the disciplinary hearing he himself appeared as complainant.68 These and subsequent nocturnal jaunts delighted the citizens of New York, who for years had been starved of entertaining municipal news. No such eccentric behavior by a public official had ever been recorded. The somnambulant Commissioner was nicknamed Haroun-el-Roosevelt, after the caliph who liked to stalk unrecognized through Baghdad after dark. Cartoons were published of policemen trembling before drugstore displays of false teeth and spectacles.69 One enterprising peddler showed up on Mulberry Street with a sackload of celluloid dentures, each equipped with a toy whistle and wire tooth-grippers. "This is the way Roosey whistles!" the peddler cried, clipping on a set and hissing convincingly at passersby. The dentures sold as fast as he could fish them out of the bag, and Mulberry Street began to resound with shrilling noises. One enterprising peddler showed up on Mulberry Street with a sackload of celluloid dentures, each equipped with a toy whistle and wire tooth-grippers. "This is the way Roosey whistles!" the peddler cried, clipping on a set and hissing convincingly at passersby. The dentures sold as fast as he could fish them out of the bag, and Mulberry Street began to resound with shrilling noises.70 Whether "Roosey" heard the racket in his second-floor office is unknown, but a Captain Groo quickly emerged from headquarters and arrested the peddler for doing unlicensed business. Whether "Roosey" heard the racket in his second-floor office is unknown, but a Captain Groo quickly emerged from headquarters and arrested the peddler for doing unlicensed business.71 Roosevelt inspected the teeth later and allowed that they were "very pretty."72 With his instinct for public relations, he must have known that the merchandising of one's features, even those most regrettably prominent, is a sure sign of popular acceptance. He had won a wide reputation before, of course, but only in the sense that a few thousand editors, columnists, political observers, and sophisticated newspaper readers across the country knew who he was and what he stood for. But here, in his hand, was the first tactile proof that his "image" was working its way into the folk consciousness of America. These celluloid teeth grinned cheerful news, and he could not but delight in them. With his instinct for public relations, he must have known that the merchandising of one's features, even those most regrettably prominent, is a sure sign of popular acceptance. He had won a wide reputation before, of course, but only in the sense that a few thousand editors, columnists, political observers, and sophisticated newspaper readers across the country knew who he was and what he stood for. But here, in his hand, was the first tactile proof that his "image" was working its way into the folk consciousness of America. These celluloid teeth grinned cheerful news, and he could not but delight in them.

The exact number of midnight patrols Roosevelt took in the summer of 1895 is a mystery. Certainly there were others. But for some reason, after the first two or three, he discouraged the press from publicizing them. Avery Andrews mentions one expedition which Lincoln Steffens was allowed to attend on condition that he did not write about it.73 Possibly Roosevelt wished to keep the tactical advantage of surprise, knowing that a retinue of reporters would inevitably spread word of his coming and going around the precincts. In any case his daytime activities were by then so controversial as to preclude every inch of available column-space. Possibly Roosevelt wished to keep the tactical advantage of surprise, knowing that a retinue of reporters would inevitably spread word of his coming and going around the precincts. In any case his daytime activities were by then so controversial as to preclude every inch of available column-space.

Although the nights of vigilance wearied him (each involved going without sleep for about forty hours), he took great pride in them and saw many things that broadened his social understanding.74 Tramping along what must have been hundreds of miles of silent avenues lit only by corner lamps and the occasional flickering torch of an oyster-cart, he could sense, if not feel, the ache of homelessness and poverty. In alleys and courtyards to left and right, he could gaze through open windows at the hot intimacies of tenement life, and listen to the bedlam of alien conversation. Italian changed to Chinese, German to Yiddish, Russian to Polish as he moved from block to block, until it was a relief to hear even a few words of broken English. Sometimes he cast about for pearls of street wisdom, as when he asked an Italian fruit vendor what possible "monish" could be made selling his wares on a deserted street at dead of night. The vendor cheerfully agreed it was no way to prosper. "W'at I maka on de peanut I losa on de dam' banan'." Tramping along what must have been hundreds of miles of silent avenues lit only by corner lamps and the occasional flickering torch of an oyster-cart, he could sense, if not feel, the ache of homelessness and poverty. In alleys and courtyards to left and right, he could gaze through open windows at the hot intimacies of tenement life, and listen to the bedlam of alien conversation. Italian changed to Chinese, German to Yiddish, Russian to Polish as he moved from block to block, until it was a relief to hear even a few words of broken English. Sometimes he cast about for pearls of street wisdom, as when he asked an Italian fruit vendor what possible "monish" could be made selling his wares on a deserted street at dead of night. The vendor cheerfully agreed it was no way to prosper. "W'at I maka on de peanut I losa on de dam' banan'."75 "These midnight rambles are great fun," Roosevelt wrote. "My whole work brings me in contact with every class of people in New York...I get a glimpse of the real life of the swarming millions."76 As always when he was learning something new, he visibly swelled with pleasure and satisfaction. The waiters and patrons at Mike Lyon's Bowery restaurant got used to seeing him drop in at two or three in the morning, tired and hungry yet wreathed in smiles. "It was 'Hello Teddy,' 'How are you Roosevelt?' all over the room," one regular recalled many years later. "Beaming, buoyant, blithe...really happy he was in those days."77

ROOSEVELT'S HAPPINESS did not remain unalloyed for long. He very soon came up against "an ugly snag" in his efforts on behalf of municipal reform. This was the Sunday Excise Law, a thirty-eight-year-old statute which forbade the sale of intoxicating liquors by saloons on the Sabbath. did not remain unalloyed for long. He very soon came up against "an ugly snag" in his efforts on behalf of municipal reform. This was the Sunday Excise Law, a thirty-eight-year-old statute which forbade the sale of intoxicating liquors by saloons on the Sabbath.78 The law had been reaffirmed in 1892 by a Democratic Legislature, as a gesture to New York State's large but mainly rural temperance vote. The law had been reaffirmed in 1892 by a Democratic Legislature, as a gesture to New York State's large but mainly rural temperance vote.79 In the city it was always honored more in the breach than the observance. Some New York mayors, including William Strong, had threatened total enforcement, In the city it was always honored more in the breach than the observance. Some New York mayors, including William Strong, had threatened total enforcement,80 but gave up in alarm when they felt the passions any such action aroused. Resistance came from all classes. Slum-dwelling workers were not to be denied their weekend refreshments, after six days and fifty-seven hours of grimy labor. To the large, prosperous German community, a but gave up in alarm when they felt the passions any such action aroused. Resistance came from all classes. Slum-dwelling workers were not to be denied their weekend refreshments, after six days and fifty-seven hours of grimy labor. To the large, prosperous German community, a stein stein of lager after of lager after Kirche Kirche was more than a pleasure: it was a folk ritual, hallowed by centuries of tradition in the Old World. As for the "dudes" and "swells," quaffing champagne in the privacy of Fifth Avenue clubs, they could only sympathize with tenement kids scampering through the streets with buckets of ale for the family. was more than a pleasure: it was a folk ritual, hallowed by centuries of tradition in the Old World. As for the "dudes" and "swells," quaffing champagne in the privacy of Fifth Avenue clubs, they could only sympathize with tenement kids scampering through the streets with buckets of ale for the family.

Nevertheless the law existed; it was on the statute books, and Roosevelt, as New York City's chief law enforcement official, sooner or later had to define his attitude toward it. He was not a prohibitionist-although he might well have been, given his own abstemious nature, and the frightful death of Elliott Roosevelt still fresh in his memory. As long ago as 1884, he had warned in the Assembly "that no more terrible curse could be inflicted on this community than the passage of a prohibitory law," and by his deciding vote had killed just such a measure.81 His objection was practical rather than moral. "It is idle to hope for the enforcement of a law where nineteen-twentieths of the people do not believe in the justice of its provisions." The Sunday Excise Act was only partially prohibitory, but he still considered it "altogether too strict." His objection was practical rather than moral. "It is idle to hope for the enforcement of a law where nineteen-twentieths of the people do not believe in the justice of its provisions." The Sunday Excise Act was only partially prohibitory, but he still considered it "altogether too strict."82 Yet suddenly, on 10 June 1895, the President of the Police Board called in his officers and instructed them to "rigidly enforce" the closing of all New York City's saloons between midnight Saturday and midnight Sunday. "No matter if you think the law is a bad one; you must see that your men carry out your orders to the letter."83 Announcing his policy to the press, Roosevelt brushed aside suggestions that it was bound to fail and bound to make him personally unpopular: I do not deal with public sentiment. I deal with the law. How I might act as a legislator, or what kind of legislation I should advise, has no bearing on my conduct as an executive officer charged with administering the law...If it proves impossible to enforce it, it will only be after the experiment of breaking many a captain of the police...Moreover, when I get at it, I am going to see if we cannot break the license forthwith of any saloon-keeper who sells on Sunday...I shall not let up for one moment in my endeavor to make the police understand that no excuse will be permitted on their part when the law is not observed, and that Sunday by Sunday it is to be enforced more and more rigorously.This applies just as much to the biggest hotel as to the smallest grog-shop.84 It was a declaration of war, harsh and uncompromising, expressed throughout in the first person singular-with the exception of one "we," suggesting that at least a majority of Roosevelt's Board backed him up. As a matter of fact, all four Commissioners believed that the law should be enforced. Roosevelt was particularly gratified by the public support of "my queer, strong able colleague Parker...far and away the most positive character with whom I have ever worked on a Commission."85 Parker appeared to like him, and Roosevelt was by nature inclined to like everybody at first, so the two men got on excellently. They had many long discussions of the law at Headquarters, often continued over dinner in a nearby restaurant, and Roosevelt never doubted Parker's sincere dedication to municipal reform. Yet something about the affable lawyer made him uneasy. "If he and I get at odds we shall have a battle royal."86

ALL HOPES THAT Roosevelt might have been indulging in excise rhetoric evaporated on Sunday, 23 June, when astonished saloonkeepers throughout the city found their premises being invaded and warrants served on them when they refused to close. Even the notorious "King" Callahan, an ex-Assemblyman with powerful political connections, was ordered by a rookie to lock up his establishment on Chatham Square. Callahan liked to boast that he had thrown his front door key into the East River the day he opened for business, and he assumed his visitor was joking. But the rookie, whose name was Bourke, decisively repeated the order; whereupon Callahan knocked him down. Patrons of the saloon joined in stomping the figure on the floor, but Bourke was a wiry youth, and rose to lay out all comers with his nightstick. The King was duly served with a summons to appear in Tombs Police Court. Roosevelt might have been indulging in excise rhetoric evaporated on Sunday, 23 June, when astonished saloonkeepers throughout the city found their premises being invaded and warrants served on them when they refused to close. Even the notorious "King" Callahan, an ex-Assemblyman with powerful political connections, was ordered by a rookie to lock up his establishment on Chatham Square. Callahan liked to boast that he had thrown his front door key into the East River the day he opened for business, and he assumed his visitor was joking. But the rookie, whose name was Bourke, decisively repeated the order; whereupon Callahan knocked him down. Patrons of the saloon joined in stomping the figure on the floor, but Bourke was a wiry youth, and rose to lay out all comers with his nightstick. The King was duly served with a summons to appear in Tombs Police Court.87 The seriousness of this gaffe-and Roosevelt's real motive in ordering the saloons closed-became evident when Bourke arrived at the courthouse a couple of days later and found the chamber packed with professional politicians. A Congressman and State Senator stood ready to testify on Callahan's behalf; senior police officials were conspicuously absent. Lincoln Steffens urgently sought out Roosevelt at Headquarters. "Pat Callahan is a sacred person in the underworld, a symbol," he warned. Roosevelt must defend his rookie-even promote him, if the judge found Callahan guilty.88 Roosevelt immediately left for the courthouse, but word of his coming preceded him, and Callahan's defense collapsed. Patrolman Bourke was upheld; the witness waived examination and was remanded for trial on two charges of violation and assault. Overjoyed, Roosevelt pumped his rookie by the hand. "Bourke, you have done well. You have shown great gallantry...the Board is behind you." He promised to make him a roundsman at the first opportunity.89 For weeks thereafter Roosevelt boasted about the downfall of King Callahan, with what one reporter described as "a castanet-like ecstasy of snapping teeth." For weeks thereafter Roosevelt boasted about the downfall of King Callahan, with what one reporter described as "a castanet-like ecstasy of snapping teeth."90

IT SOON BECAME CLEAR that Roosevelt's order to close the saloons had very little to do with temperance principles. It was the logical consequence of his mandate-as he saw it-to root out corruption in the police force. that Roosevelt's order to close the saloons had very little to do with temperance principles. It was the logical consequence of his mandate-as he saw it-to root out corruption in the police force.91 Ill-advised as such a crusade against "nineteen-twentieths of the people" might seem in retrospect, his basic reasoning was in the public interest. Ill-advised as such a crusade against "nineteen-twentieths of the people" might seem in retrospect, his basic reasoning was in the public interest.

Of all the wellsprings of illicit funds in New York City, the corner saloon was the most copious, and the most profitable to all concerned. It profited the liquor sellers with $160,000 worth of "found money" every Sunday. It profited the police, who accepted bribes in order not to enforce the law against them. In particular, it profited Tammany Hall, not only with a percentage of the take, but with a rich harvest of votes upon request-for the saloon was the traditional political center of every neighborhood.92 A Tammany boss could, with a word to his precinct captain, force the Sunday closing of any establishment which failed to support him; arrests of this kind always increased dramatically in the weeks before Election Day. Sometimes, to make the situation more Byzantine, boss and saloonkeeper were one and the same person. Roosevelt never tired of pointing out that "nearly two-thirds of the political leaders of Tammany Hall have, at one time or another, been in the liquor business." A Tammany boss could, with a word to his precinct captain, force the Sunday closing of any establishment which failed to support him; arrests of this kind always increased dramatically in the weeks before Election Day. Sometimes, to make the situation more Byzantine, boss and saloonkeeper were one and the same person. Roosevelt never tired of pointing out that "nearly two-thirds of the political leaders of Tammany Hall have, at one time or another, been in the liquor business."93 In 1895 there were between twelve and fifteen thousand saloons in New York City, most of them occupying corner sites with elaborate displays of mahogany and engraved glass. In thirsty neighborhoods, such as Paddy's Market and Germantown, the saloons often occupied all four sides of an intersection. This architectural phenomenon was directly related to the Sunday Excise Law. A corner site meant that even when the front door was locked on Saturday at midnight, there would be at least one open door down the side-street, ostensibly connected with the saloonkeeper's living quarters. The flow of "friends" through this door on Sundays was prodigious. Policemen pretended not to notice the foam on the mustaches of departing guests, although they would conscientiously rattle the front lock and check that all shutters were drawn. Within, under flickering gaslights, business went on as usual.94

ROOSEVELT WAS NOT the first authority to invoke the law that year. Ex-Chief Byrnes, for example, had arrested a record 334 saloonkeepers on one Sunday in January. But as Roosevelt pointed out, his victims had been chosen carefully: "The law...was enforced with corrupt discrimination." Byrnes would never have permitted the booking of a King Callahan. Now "everybody was arrested alike, and I took especial pains to see...that the big men and the men with political influence were treated like every one else." the first authority to invoke the law that year. Ex-Chief Byrnes, for example, had arrested a record 334 saloonkeepers on one Sunday in January. But as Roosevelt pointed out, his victims had been chosen carefully: "The law...was enforced with corrupt discrimination." Byrnes would never have permitted the booking of a King Callahan. Now "everybody was arrested alike, and I took especial pains to see...that the big men and the men with political influence were treated like every one else."95 As a result, 30 June was voted "the Dryest Sunday in Seven Years."96 Ninety-seven percent of the city's watering-holes were closed, slowing to a trickle the normal Sunday flow of three million glassfuls of beer. Roosevelt bluecoats seemed to be everywhere, waving aside bribes with loathing and writing out summonses at the slightest sign of resistance. Some enterprising saloonkeepers sought to evade the law by serving "meals" with their drinks, in the form of token sandwiches. These were placed on barroom tables, on the tacit understanding they were for display purposes only, and left to curl up at the edges while relays of patrons "washed them down" with liquor. Ninety-seven percent of the city's watering-holes were closed, slowing to a trickle the normal Sunday flow of three million glassfuls of beer. Roosevelt bluecoats seemed to be everywhere, waving aside bribes with loathing and writing out summonses at the slightest sign of resistance. Some enterprising saloonkeepers sought to evade the law by serving "meals" with their drinks, in the form of token sandwiches. These were placed on barroom tables, on the tacit understanding they were for display purposes only, and left to curl up at the edges while relays of patrons "washed them down" with liquor.97 Roosevelt was sternly disapproving, and ordered his plainclothesmen to monitor all aging sandwiches in future. The legal ratio, he said, was one drink per sandwich, and they were meant to be consumed simultaneously. He congratulated an exhausted Chief Conlin on his success in closing so many saloons, and urged him to even greater efforts. "This must be kept up!"98 The following Sunday, 7 July, was not quite so dry, due to a growing awareness of legal constraints placed upon the police. They were forbidden, for example, to search persons or premises without visible evidence of alcohol being drunk and bought. Consequently a strange epidemic of traveling-bags, grip-sacks, and market baskets was observed in the streets of Gotham. Many hundreds of them were carried out of a cigar-store that backed up against Pat Callahan's saloon on Chatham Square. The police knew that a walled, awning-shaded garden connected the two establishments, but they were denied permission to enter. It was announced that the King was entertaining his "friends," and no longer included cops in that category.

In more sophisticated parts of town, coffee-vendors found that a heavy infusion of cognac in every cup greatly increased their sales, while at a German Biergarten Biergarten on Lexington Avenue, requests for "lemon soda," "plain soda," and "cold tea" were met with Rhine wine, gin, and whiskey respectively. on Lexington Avenue, requests for "lemon soda," "plain soda," and "cold tea" were met with Rhine wine, gin, and whiskey respectively.99 Despite all these ingenious evasions, it soon became apparent that Roosevelt's stranglehold on the saloons was beginning to hurt. The Wine, Beer, and Liquor Sellers' Association, until recently the richest organization in New York, reported that one quarter of its members were facing bankruptcy for lack of Sunday sales; The New York Times The New York Times estimated their average weekend loss as over $20,000 each. estimated their average weekend loss as over $20,000 each.100 Economic shock-waves were felt all over the country. "In his eagerness to close the New York saloons," remarked the Economic shock-waves were felt all over the country. "In his eagerness to close the New York saloons," remarked the Chicago Tribune Chicago Tribune, "Mr. Roosevelt has interfered with the hop-raisers of New York and Washington, with the corned-beef ranchers of the plains, the pigs' feet producers of the West, and the barley-growers of the North. He is in a fair way to cost the American people millions."101 Anguished protests came in from Tammany politicians, most notably from ex-Governor David B. Hill, now a United States Senator. In an open letter widely seen as a keynote for the upcoming Democratic state campaign, Hill excoriated New York's "busybody and notoriety-seeking Police Commissioners" for "arbitrary, harsh, and technical" enforcement of the Sunday Excise Law. "A glass of beer with a few crackers in a humble restaurant is just as much a poor man's lunch on Sunday as is Mr. Roosevelt's elaborate champagne dinner at the Union League Club."102 On 12 July a Democratic judge handed down the alarming decision that the law, interpreted literally, forbade the sale of all all drinks on the Sabbath, including milk and lemonade. " drinks on the Sabbath, including milk and lemonade. "ONLY WATER TO DRINK NOW," mourned the Herald. Herald.103 Roosevelt's chance to reply came on 16 July when he faced a large meeting of German-Americans in the Good Government Club at 134 East 115th Street. His audience represented the second-biggest ethnic community in New York City. From Houston Street north to Yorkville, from Third Avenue east to the river, one might walk for miles and not see so much as an English shop-sign. Here lived some 760,000 industrious, beer-drinking burghers, mostly middle-class, sentimentally attached to the Old World, yet fiercely loyal to their adopted country. Economically and politically their votes counted for as much as, if not more than, those of Irish-Americans. Their reaction to Roosevelt's speech-his first major statement as president of the reform Police Board-was therefore eagerly awaited as an indication of how things might go at the next municipal election. Reporters came from as far away as Chicago and Boston to hear it.104 The evening began with a complaint, voiced in garbled, guttural English by City Coroner Hoeber, about the Police Board's attitude to the "Continental Sunday." Commissioner Parker (also on the platform) had said immigrants were "welcome" to obey American laws. "He has not got any business to velcome us! Ve are here by right!" Hoeber's language grew so incoherent, as passion took him, that even his fellow Germans laughed; but Roosevelt listened with grave courtesy. Before giving his own prepared speech, he dispelled the specter of ethnic prejudice quickly and bluntly: "I care nothing for the birthplace of those whom I address...I speak as an American to fellow-Americans." There was a scattering of shocked applause.105 He was always at his best in situations of this kind. Something about united opposition stimulated his adrenaline and accelerated the natural rapidity of his mind. As he launched into the main body of his speech, beginning with a ferocious attack upon Senator Hill, he gave off a clean glow of health and strength. His skin stretched brown and taut around the muscular neck; his eyes shone clear blue through flashing pince-nez; he crouched slightly forward, as if posing for a spring. There was something canine about his eager alertness. A Chicago correspondent, searching for similes, tried "mastiff," but then settled on "greyhound, crossed with a terrier."106 Senator Hill has done me the honor to take me as the antitype of his political methods and political views, and has singled me out for attack in connection with the Excise Law. Senator Hill's complaint is that I honestly enforce the law which he and Tammany put on the statute books...[His] assault upon that honest enforcement is the admission, in the first place, that it never has been honestly enforced before, and, in the next place, that he never expected it to be...It is but natural that he and Tammany should grow wild with anger at the honest enforcement of the law, for it was a law which was intended to be the most potent weapon in keeping the saloons subservient allies to Tammany Hall.With a law such as this, enforced only against the poor or the honest man and violated with impunity by every rich scoundrel and every corrupt politician, the machine did indeed seem to have its yoke on the neck of the people.But we throw off that yoke, and no special pleading of Senator Hill can avail to make us put it on...Where justice is bought, where favor is the price of money or political influence, the rich man held his own and the poor man went to the wall. Now all are treated exactly alike.107 With Commissioners Parker and Andrews nodding approval on either side of him, and applause mounting as his sincerity filled the room, Roosevelt argued that honest enforcement of an unpopular law was the most effective way to bring about its repeal. Legislators should think twice in future about passing laws to favor some voters, then neglecting them to please others. Abuse of the statute-book was a mockery of civilization. Inevitably it led to anarchy and violence. Using one of his typically brilliant, if far-fetched analogies, he compared the excise phenomenon with the lynchings phenomenon in the Deep South. In each case the tyranny of a small, powerful mob had brought about a perversion of the law; in each case the authorities accepted the perversion on the grounds that it represented "popular sentiment." To those who advised him to pay heed to the latter, Roosevelt cried: "My answer is that I have to do with popular sentiment only as this sentiment is embodied in legislation." Insisting that he was not against the Germans, nor the Catholics, but acting on behalf of all good Americans, he concluded emphatically: "It is the plain duty of a public officer to stand steadfastly for the honest enforcement of the law."108 It was a classic Roosevelt performance: aggression, vehemence, frankness, and authority, expressed in sentences a child could understand. The applause was long and respectful, and he sat down looking "exceedingly pleased" with himself.109 Commissioner Parker rose to make a few remarks of support, and the evening ended with three hearty Teutonic cheers for the reform Police Board. The Chicago correspondent went home to report that Theodore Roosevelt was "undeniably the biggest man in New York, if not the most interesting man in public life." Commissioner Parker rose to make a few remarks of support, and the evening ended with three hearty Teutonic cheers for the reform Police Board. The Chicago correspondent went home to report that Theodore Roosevelt was "undeniably the biggest man in New York, if not the most interesting man in public life."110

AMONG OTHER SUPERLATIVES lavished on Roosevelt next morning was a telegram from the venerable Senator George F. Hoar, patriarch of the Republican party: lavished on Roosevelt next morning was a telegram from the venerable Senator George F. Hoar, patriarch of the Republican party: YOUR SPEECH IS THE BEST SPEECH THAT HAS BEEN MADE ON THIS CONTINENT FOR THIRTY YEARS. I AM GLAD TO KNOW THAT THERE IS A MAN BEHIND IT WORTHY OF THE SPEECH.

"That was pretty good of the old man, was it not?" Roosevelt exulted to Cabot Lodge. "I was really greatly flattered."111 In the same letter he acknowledged that his uncompromising attitude had sharply polarized the press. For a couple of months virtually every newspaper in the city had eulogized him-but now, almost overnight, "the World, Herald, Sun, Journal World, Herald, Sun, Journal and and Advertiser Advertiser are shrieking with rage; and the [German-American] are shrieking with rage; and the [German-American] Staats-Zeitung Staats-Zeitung is fairly epileptic." He could still count on the support of the is fairly epileptic." He could still count on the support of the Tribune Tribune and and Times Times, and also, to his ironic amusement, E. L. Godkin's Evening Post Evening Post. "However I don't care a snap of my finger; my position is impregnable; I am going to fight whatever the opposition is."112 If the "yellow," or working-man's press was shrieking then, its clamor rose to levels of real bedlam in the weeks that followed, as the weather grew hotter and the Sunday spigots ran drier. The World World and and Herald Herald devoted page after full page to "Teddy's Folly," caricaturing him as a Puritan Dutchman bent on driving innocent citizens out of New Amsterdam. With such active encouragement, about half a million citizens did indeed leave town on Sunday, 21 July, to slake their thirsts in the country pubs of Long Island and New Jersey. devoted page after full page to "Teddy's Folly," caricaturing him as a Puritan Dutchman bent on driving innocent citizens out of New Amsterdam. With such active encouragement, about half a million citizens did indeed leave town on Sunday, 21 July, to slake their thirsts in the country pubs of Long Island and New Jersey.113 They raised their tankards and drank many a bitter toast to Roosevelt's downfall, while Presbyterian ministers and temperance societies sang hymns to his praise. They raised their tankards and drank many a bitter toast to Roosevelt's downfall, while Presbyterian ministers and temperance societies sang hymns to his praise.

Controversy builds political stature, and Roosevelt saw no reason to be alarmed by the extremes of hostility and admiration his name seemed to arouse. Even the Commercial Advertiser Commercial Advertiser saw that "the most despised and at the same time the best-loved man in the country" was destined for higher office. "Will he succeed Col. Strong as Mayor; or Levi P. Morton as Governor; or Grover Cleveland as President?" saw that "the most despised and at the same time the best-loved man in the country" was destined for higher office. "Will he succeed Col. Strong as Mayor; or Levi P. Morton as Governor; or Grover Cleveland as President?"114

INSPIRED BY a midnight prowl on 23 July, which found every policeman on the Lower East Side patrolling with clockwork efficiency, Roosevelt announced that the following Sunday, the sixth of his campaign, would be "the dryest New York has ever known." a midnight prowl on 23 July, which found every policeman on the Lower East Side patrolling with clockwork efficiency, Roosevelt announced that the following Sunday, the sixth of his campaign, would be "the dryest New York has ever known."115 His prophecy proved correct: one newspaper compared the metropolis to the Sahara. A few side-doors were open for privileged customers, but the masses were obliged to go thirsty. Chewing-gum boys reported record sales; bums on the Bowery went into delirium tremens for lack of alcohol; one elderly lady was seen crossing over to Long Island City with an empty beer bucket. Fashionable neighborhoods were deserted as all who could afford to left town for the day. Some well-to-do youths chartered a pleasure-boat, recruited a band and a bevy of girls in white muslin, and cruised off to Idlewild Grove, towing two bargefuls of iced ale. His prophecy proved correct: one newspaper compared the metropolis to the Sahara. A few side-doors were open for privileged customers, but the masses were obliged to go thirsty. Chewing-gum boys reported record sales; bums on the Bowery went into delirium tremens for lack of alcohol; one elderly lady was seen crossing over to Long Island City with an empty beer bucket. Fashionable neighborhoods were deserted as all who could afford to left town for the day. Some well-to-do youths chartered a pleasure-boat, recruited a band and a bevy of girls in white muslin, and cruised off to Idlewild Grove, towing two bargefuls of iced ale.116 Roosevelt, relaxing with his family at Oyster Bay, could not be reached for comment, but Commissioner Grant was in the city, and expressed doubt that the poor were really suffering. "Everybody would get on beautifully in hot weather," he suggested, "if they would drink warm weak tea."117 At midnight a downtown saloonkeeper named Levy, who had studied the statute-book and found that the hour from 12:00 P.M 12:00 P.M. Sunday to 1:00 A.M 1:00 A.M. Monday was not covered by any law, flagrantly opened his doors. Word traveled fast, and for the next hour saloons all over town were brilliant with lights and festivity.118 " "MR. ROOSEVELT IS BEATEN," claimed the Sun Sun next morning, but it was plain he was not. The very scrupulousness with which Levy had observed the letter of the law testified to the efficiency of the Police Department in executing it. next morning, but it was plain he was not. The very scrupulousness with which Levy had observed the letter of the law testified to the efficiency of the Police Department in executing it.

As dry Sunday followed dry Sunday through the heat of August, public resentment of Roosevelt smoldered. The English poet John Masefield, then working as a pot-boy in a New York saloon, "often heard men wondering how soon he would be shot."119 On 5 August a clerk at the post office tore open a suspicious-looking package addressed to Roosevelt, and was startled by "a puff of flame and smoke." Miraculously, all that had exploded was a match-fuse on the wrapper: inside lay a live cartridge embedded in gunpowder. On 5 August a clerk at the post office tore open a suspicious-looking package addressed to Roosevelt, and was startled by "a puff of flame and smoke." Miraculously, all that had exploded was a match-fuse on the wrapper: inside lay a live cartridge embedded in gunpowder.

Roosevelt dismissed the letter-bomb as "a cheap thing," and refused to look at it.120 The campaign went on. The campaign went on.

ROOSEVELT'S ASTONISHING national prestige, so at odds with his unpopularity in New York, continued to grow. "The whole country, it seemed, was talking about Theodore Roosevelt," wrote Avery Andrews. "It liked what he was doing." Word of his exploits spread even to London, where the national prestige, so at odds with his unpopularity in New York, continued to grow. "The whole country, it seemed, was talking about Theodore Roosevelt," wrote Avery Andrews. "It liked what he was doing." Word of his exploits spread even to London, where the Times Times described him as a "police Rhadamanthus" ruling Mulberry Street "with undisputed sway." His three colleagues, especially the excellent Parker, were supporting him to a man, and Acting Chief Conlin, although nominally in independent control of the force, was content to obey his orders. Crimes were down, arrests up, corruption clearly on the wane; described him as a "police Rhadamanthus" ruling Mulberry Street "with undisputed sway." His three colleagues, especially the excellent Parker, were supporting him to a man, and Acting Chief Conlin, although nominally in independent control of the force, was content to obey his orders. Crimes were down, arrests up, corruption clearly on the wane;121 Roosevelt had every reason to congratulate himself, and did not hesitate to do so. Roosevelt had every reason to congratulate himself, and did not hesitate to do so.

Familiar signs of self-satisfaction appeared in his behavior. He began to talk in private as if he were on a platform, pausing after every sentence to watch its effect on the listener.122 His youthful love of flamboyant dress was revived in a summer outfit, the like of which had never been seen at Police Headquarters. It consisted of a straw English boater, a pink shirt, and a black silk cummerbund whose tasseled ends dangled down to his knees. His youthful love of flamboyant dress was revived in a summer outfit, the like of which had never been seen at Police Headquarters. It consisted of a straw English boater, a pink shirt, and a black silk cummerbund whose tasseled ends dangled down to his knees.123 "Bustling, jocose, and rubicund," he would burst into Board meetings and impulsively sweep up piles of documents awaiting action. "These relate to civil service matters. With the Board's permission I will decide them all." "Bustling, jocose, and rubicund," he would burst into Board meetings and impulsively sweep up piles of documents awaiting action. "These relate to civil service matters. With the Board's permission I will decide them all."124 The word "I" invaded his speeches to such an extent that the The word "I" invaded his speeches to such an extent that the Herald Herald took to reproducing it in bold type: the effect on a column of gray newsprint was of buckshot at close range. took to reproducing it in bold type: the effect on a column of gray newsprint was of buckshot at close range.125 The success of Roosevelt's crusade was helped by his early insistence that he was acting out of duty, not bluenosed morality. But the temptation to preach, always strong in him, became irresistible on 7 August, when he appeared at the Catholic Total Abstinence Union's national convention in Carnegie Hall. Sharing the platform with him were Mayor Strong, Commissioner Parker, and a phalanx of clergymen, headed by Archbishop Corrigan of New York. "Big Tim" O'Sullivan, a State Senator from Tammany Hall, represented the forces of iniquity.126 After a mass chorus of "While We Are Marching for Temperance," sung to the tune of "Marching Through Georgia," Senator O'Sullivan rose to give the first speech. He had not joined in the singing, and proceeded to make plain his contempt for "the Puritan's gloomy Sabbath." To an uproar of hisses and boos, he declared that the Excise Law discriminated against "the orderly citizen who drinks in moderation," while encouraging the real drunkard to lay in supplies of hard liquor, and souse in front of his family.

Roosevelt's face, during this speech, was a study of majestic disapproval. Throwing aside his prepared text, he followed O'Sullivan to the lectern and soothed the raging audience with a full display of his teeth. "I want to express my gratitude to the Catholic Church," he intoned, "because it stands manfully for temperance, and for a day of rest and innocent enjoyment." The next thirty minutes were devoted to a conversational defense of himself and his policies, remarkable for the roars of applause that greeted every quiet cadence. For the most part it was standard stuff, but Roosevelt inserted paragraphs of temperance rhetoric which worked his seven thousand listeners into a frenzy of righteous fervor. Senator O'Sullivan was mentioned only occasionally, in tones of sympathetic sorrow, as a lost sheep to be mourned by the rest of the flock. "Rub it in to him, Teddy," yelled a voice, and Roosevelt swung into his peroration: I hope to see the time when a man will be ashamed to take any enjoyment on Sunday which shall rob those who should be dearest to him, and are dependent on him, of the money he has earned during the week; when a man will be ashamed to take a selfish enjoyment, and not to find some kind of pleasure which he can share with his wife and children.127 "Never in my life," he wrote afterward, "did I receive such an ovation." It was fully five minutes before order could be restored. Commissioner Parker ran over to shake his hand, followed by a score of delighted priests. If the World World is to be believed, Mayor Strong "actually stood up and cheered...while State Senator O'Sullivan looked as uncomfortable as any man could possibly look." is to be believed, Mayor Strong "actually stood up and cheered...while State Senator O'Sullivan looked as uncomfortable as any man could possibly look."128 Reading the text of Roosevelt's speech eight decades later, one is struck, as so often with his oratory, by the ordinariness of the language which aroused such enthusiasm. Yet the words, banal as they are, are arranged with consummate skill. At no point that evening did he espouse the doctrine of total abstinence; he made no specific condemnation of drink; yet somehow he managed to convince seven thousand diehard prohibitionists that he was wholly on their side. Experts in the study of mass-manipulation techniques could only shake their heads in admiration. "You are rushing so rapidly to the front," wrote Henry Cabot Lodge, "that the day is not far distant when you will come into a large kingdom."129

ROOSEVELT WORKED HARDER during the hot months of 1895 than ever before in his life. during the hot months of 1895 than ever before in his life.130 In addition to a grinding routine of ten- and twelve-hour days, interrupted only by rare weekends at Sagamore Hill, he expounded his board's policy "again and again in packed halls on the East Side...with temperatures at boiling point, both as regards the weather and the audiences." Boos greeted his every appearance, but he exuded such charm, vigor, and sincerity (flashing his teeth upon request, and dancing polkas with the girls of the Tee-To-Tum Club) that he usually bowed out to cheers. In addition to a grinding routine of ten- and twelve-hour days, interrupted only by rare weekends at Sagamore Hill, he expounded his board's policy "again and again in packed halls on the East Side...with temperatures at boiling point, both as regards the weather and the audiences." Boos greeted his every appearance, but he exuded such charm, vigor, and sincerity (flashing his teeth upon request, and dancing polkas with the girls of the Tee-To-Tum Club) that he usually bowed out to cheers.131 Meanwhile the Sunday Closing crusade went on. More and more saloonkeepers decided that their side-door business was not worth the risk of heavy fines and/or loss of license. On 23 August the Liquor Sellers' Association, representing some nine thousand of the city's twelve thousand saloons, came out in favor of total observation of the law, and threatened to expel any members who failed to comply. Its motive, of course, was to make political pressure for repeal overwhelming, but nevertheless the announcement was seen as a psychological victory for Roosevelt. Sunday, 1 September, replaced 28 July as the driest on record.132 "There has not been a more complete triumph of law in the municipal history of New York," wrote the London Times Times correspondent. Roosevelt had managed to achieve the impossible by closing the saloons, and getting large crowds of poor people to respect him for it. He himself boasted that he had "never had such a success as in the last four months"-adding the usual disclaimer, "I am not a bit taken in, and...shall not be in the least disappointed when it ends." correspondent. Roosevelt had managed to achieve the impossible by closing the saloons, and getting large crowds of poor people to respect him for it. He himself boasted that he had "never had such a success as in the last four months"-adding the usual disclaimer, "I am not a bit taken in, and...shall not be in the least disappointed when it ends."133 He scored yet another publicity coup on 25 September, when the United Societies for Liberal Sunday Laws staged a protest parade through Germantown, and sent him a cynical invitation to attend. Few imagined that he would accept. When Roosevelt came drumming up the steps of the reviewing stand on Eighty-sixth Street, Herman Ridder, publisher of the Staats-Zeitung Staats-Zeitung, was convinced he was an impostor. "I'll go bail he is the genuine article," laughed the City Comptroller.134 The parade, which took two hours to pass by, was a spectacular demonstration of Teutonic irony.135 Flagstaffs and building facades were draped with purple bunting, symbolizing the death of the "Continental Sunday." The advance guard consisted of a dozen bicyclists with blue noses and bunches of whiskers under their chins, impersonating upstate "hayseed" legislators. Some thirty thousand marchers followed on in leather trousers, Bismarck helmets, and other ethnic paraphernalia. Saloonkeepers rolled by in open carriages, waving bottles of Rhine wine and a poster declaiming, " Flagstaffs and building facades were draped with purple bunting, symbolizing the death of the "Continental Sunday." The advance guard consisted of a dozen bicyclists with blue noses and bunches of whiskers under their chins, impersonating upstate "hayseed" legislators. Some thirty thousand marchers followed on in leather trousers, Bismarck helmets, and other ethnic paraphernalia. Saloonkeepers rolled by in open carriages, waving bottles of Rhine wine and a poster declaiming, "T'AINT SUNDAY." A gilt wagon carried a pretty Fraulein Fraulein veiled in black, as the mourning Goddess of Liberty. She looked bewildered when Roosevelt loudly applauded her. Another float, labeled "The Millionaire's Club," showed three dress-suited toffs-one with prominent teeth and spectacles-swigging champagne, while behind them two policemen arrested a beer-drinker in working clothes. "As this float passed," reported the veiled in black, as the mourning Goddess of Liberty. She looked bewildered when Roosevelt loudly applauded her. Another float, labeled "The Millionaire's Club," showed three dress-suited toffs-one with prominent teeth and spectacles-swigging champagne, while behind them two policemen arrested a beer-drinker in working clothes. "As this float passed," reported the World World, "Mr. Roosevelt looked serious."136 For most of the afternoon, however, he beamed with enjoyment. Since he stood on the most prominent part of the platform, it seemed "as if the whole affair were in his honor."137 Word of his presence spread back down the line, and the paraders twisted their necks to stare at him. One short-sighted veteran peered at the stand and shouted, "Wo ist der Roosevelt?" The Commissioner leaned forward, thumping his chest, and screamed, Word of his presence spread back down the line, and the paraders twisted their necks to stare at him. One short-sighted veteran peered at the stand and shouted, "Wo ist der Roosevelt?" The Commissioner leaned forward, thumping his chest, and screamed, "Hier bin ich!" "Hier bin ich!" At this the marchers, spectators, and everybody on the stand dissolved into helpless laughter. "Teddy, you're a man!" yelled someone in the crowd. At this the marchers, spectators, and everybody on the stand dissolved into helpless laughter. "Teddy, you're a man!" yelled someone in the crowd.138 Afterward Roosevelt told his hosts he had never had such fun. "But," he added, "a hundred parades can't swerve us from doing our duty." With that he left, carrying two souvenir banners for the wall of his office: "ROOSEVELT'S RAZZLE-DAZZLE REFORM RACKET" and "SEND THE POLICE CZAR TO RUSSIA." 139 139

ROOSEVELT'S PUBLIC TRIUMPHS in the summer and early fall of 1895, coupled with his tireless campaigning on behalf of his board and his party, prompted rumors that he was actively working toward the nation's highest office. The in the summer and early fall of 1895, coupled with his tireless campaigning on behalf of his board and his party, prompted rumors that he was actively working toward the nation's highest office. The Commercial Advertiser's Commercial Advertiser's above-quoted suggestion that he might succeed Grover Cleveland as President was taken up by the above-quoted suggestion that he might succeed Grover Cleveland as President was taken up by the Ithaca Daily News Ithaca Daily News, which formally endorsed him for the Republican nomination in 1896. In Brooklyn, a certain Reverend A. C. Dixon proclaimed from the pulpit the hope that Theodore Roosevelt might soon enter the White House, "as he incarnates the principles upon which Government is founded."140 At No. 303 Mulberry Street, Jacob Riis serenely countered all criticism of the Commissioner's high-handed actions with: "Of course! Teddy is bound for the Presidency." What was more, said Riis, Teddy knew it. At No. 303 Mulberry Street, Jacob Riis serenely countered all criticism of the Commissioner's high-handed actions with: "Of course! Teddy is bound for the Presidency." What was more, said Riis, Teddy knew it.

"Let's ask him," Lincoln Steffens suggested. The two men dashed across to headquarters and burst into Roosevelt's office. Riis put the question directly. Was he working to be President? The effect, wrote Steffens, "was frightening."

TR leaped to his feet, ran around his desk, and fists clenched, teeth bared, he seemed about to throttle Riis, who cowered away, amazed."Don't you dare ask me that," TR yelled at Riis. "Don't you put such ideas into my head. No friend of mine would ever say a thing like that, you-you-"Riis's shocked face or TR's recollection that he had few friends as devoted as Jake Riis halted him. He backed away, came up again to Riis, and put his arm over his shoulder. Then he beckoned me close and in an awed tone of voice explained."Never, never, you must never either of you remind a man at work on a political job that he may be President. It almost always kills him politically. He loses his nerve; he can't do his work; he gives up the very traits that are making him a possibility. I, for instance, I am going to do great things here, hard things that require all the courage, ability, work that I am capable of...But if I get to thinking of what it might lead to-"He stopped, held us off, and looked into our faces with his face screwed up into a knot, as with lowered voice he said slowly: "I must be wanting to be President. Every young man does. But I won't let myself think of it; I must not, because if I do, I will begin to work for it, I'll be careful, calculating, cautious in word and act, and so-I'll beat myself. See?"Again he looked at us as if we were enemies; then he threw us away from him and went back to his desk."Go on away, now," he said, "and don't you ever mention the-don't you ever mention that to me again."141 Riis and Steffens were so crestfallen that afterward they did not even mention it to each other. Yet Roosevelt himself could hardly ignore the specter they had raised. He could not stop people addressing him-quite correctly-as "President Roosevelt," and he would have been less than human had his heart not lurched sometimes at the sound of that phrase.

THE N NOVEMBER ELECTIONS approached, bringing with them some wintry blasts of political discontent, all seemingly directed at Roosevelt. His anticorruption crusade had been tolerated by the state Republican organization as long as it contributed to the decline of Tammany Hall, but now it began to look as if the reverse effect might be true. There was an ominous contrast between rural and metropolitan voter registrations, the former promising a statewide sweep for the GOP, the latter indicating a Democratic backlash in New York City. Evidently the approached, bringing with them some wintry blasts of political discontent, all seemingly directed at Roosevelt. His anticorruption crusade had been tolerated by the state Republican organization as long as it contributed to the decline of Tammany Hall, but now it began to look as if the reverse effect might be true. There was an ominous contrast between rural and metropolitan voter registrations, the former promising a statewide sweep for the GOP, the latter indicating a Democratic backlash in New York City. Evidently the World's World's constant presentation of Roosevelt as a reformer gone mad was having its effect. The constant presentation of Roosevelt as a reformer gone mad was having its effect. The Staats-Zeitung Staats-Zeitung, ignoring his happy appearance at the Liberal Laws parade, accused him of having "a grudge against Irish-Americans and German-Americans." Republican pollsters computed the potential vote loss in each of these communities and blanched. They were not encouraged by Roosevelt's announced intention to police the election fairly. A less virtuous Commissioner might have been persuaded to influence the voting by a combination of intimidation and selective arrests, but that kind of loyal assistance could hardly be expected from "the Patron Saint of Dry Sundays."142 Accordingly the Republican Convention at Saratoga endorsed the Excise Law in the vaguest possible terms, hoping to offend neither upstate rural prohibitionists nor thirsty urban workers. Pressure began to build on Roosevelt to moderate his crusade, at least through Election Day. His response was unequivocal and publicly expressed. "The implication is that for the sake of the Republican party, a party of which I am a very earnest member, I should violate my oath of office and connive at lawbreaking...Personally, I think I can best serve the Republican party by taking the police force absolutely out of politics. Our duty is to preserve order, to protect life and property, to arrest criminals, and to secure honest elections."143 "I shall not alter my course one handsbreadth," he wrote a worried Cabot Lodge, "even though Tammany carries the city by 50,000."144 This intransigent attitude had immediate personal consequences. Edward Lauterbach, chairman of the Republican County Committee, issued a statement that the party "was not in any way responsible for Rooseveltism." Lemuel Quigg, who had backed him for Mayor the year before, reproached him for "base ingratitude" and said their friendship was at an end. "He is a goose," Roosevelt commented indifferently. Even Mayor Strong, anxious to placate the German-American lobby, said he should either "let up on the saloon" or quit his post. Roosevelt replied that he would do neither. Strong was enraged but powerless.145 Roosevelt put on a cheery front in public, but privately he was depressed by the sudden downturn of his political fortunes. It became increasingly apparent that the city's Republican voters were going to "bolt" in droves, and that he would be held to blame. His support on the Police Board began to erode. "There is considerable irritation," the World World reported, "because Messrs. Parker, Grant, and Andrews have seemingly lost their identity, and...merged into the great and only Theodore Roosevelt." He admitted having some "rough times" with his colleagues. "It has only been by a mixture of tact, good humor, and occasional heavy hitting that I have kept each one in line." reported, "because Messrs. Parker, Grant, and Andrews have seemingly lost their identity, and...merged into the great and only Theodore Roosevelt." He admitted having some "rough times" with his colleagues. "It has only been by a mixture of tact, good humor, and occasional heavy hitting that I have kept each one in line."146 With the abnormal self-control that always restrained his abnormal pugnacity, Roosevelt managed to avoid an open fight with state party leaders. He knew that the organization could not do without his unique talents as a campaigner. Anxious to reaffirm his party loyalty, he stumped for Republican candidates all over the city, speaking two or three times a night, and made side-trips to local hustings in Boston and Baltimore. "I am almost worn out," he wrote on his thirty-seventh birthday. "Thank heaven there is only a week more, and then the exhausting six months will be over, and I can ease up a little, no matter which way the battle goes."147

THE BATTLE WENT to the enemy. Although Republicans won overwhelmingly elsewhere in the state, Tammany Hall saw its full slate of municipal candidates elected by landslide margins. Analysis of the polls showed that 80 percent of the German-American vote, hitherto solidly Republican, had gone Democratic. to the enemy. Although Republicans won overwhelmingly elsewhere in the state, Tammany Hall saw its full slate of municipal candidates elected by landslide margins. Analysis of the polls showed that 80 percent of the German-American vote, hitherto solidly Republican, had gone Democratic.148 There could hardly have been a more crushing indictment of reform in general, and police reform in particular. The contrast between local and state returns only emphasized Roosevelt's unpopularity in his native city. There could hardly have been a more crushing indictment of reform in general, and police reform in particular. The contrast between local and state returns only emphasized Roosevelt's unpopularity in his native city.

He reacted with oblique rage. On 5 November, the same night the returns came in, he wrote to one of his Civil War heroes, General James Harrison Wilson: If I were asked what the greatest boon I could confer upon this nation was, I should answer, an immediate war with Great Britain for the conquest of Canada...I will do my very best to bring about the day...I want to drive the Spaniards out of Cuba. I want to stop Great Britain seizing the mouth of the Orinoco. If she does it, then as an offset I want to take the entire valleys of the St. Lawrence, the Saskatchewan, and the Columbia....149 Next morning he called in his precinct captains and told them that "The Board will not tolerate the slightest relaxation of the enforcement of the laws, and notably of the Excise Law." But for all this bluster, it was plain his authority had been dealt a mortal blow. Even the loyal New York Times New York Times doubted that he would ever again mobilize the police as effectively as he had during the long dry summer of 1895. doubted that he would ever again mobilize the police as effectively as he had during the long dry summer of 1895.150

THE YEAR DREW to a close amid rumors that Mayor Strong had formally asked for Roosevelt's resignation. Both men denied the stories, but Strong was heard to complain at a public banquet, "I thought I would have a pretty easy time until the Police Board came along and tried to make a Puritan out of a Dutchman." The remark was supposed to be jocular-Strong fancied himself as an amateur comedian-but Roosevelt, sitting at the same table, did not find it at all funny. to a close amid rumors that Mayor Strong had formally asked for Roosevelt's resignation. Both men denied the stories, but Strong was heard to complain at a public banquet, "I thought I would have a pretty easy time until the Police Board came along and tried to make a Puritan out of a Dutchman." The remark was supposed to be jocular-Strong fancied himself as an amateur comedian-but Roosevelt, sitting at the same table, did not find it at all funny.151 The pace of his "grinding labor" at Police Headquarters did not slacken. If anything it increased, for he was trying to finish the neglected fourth volume of The Winning of the West The Winning of the West in between appointments, as well as working full-time on it at weekends. "I should very much like to take a holiday," he confessed, but felt too insecure in his job to leave town for long. in between appointments, as well as working full-time on it at weekends. "I should very much like to take a holiday," he confessed, but felt too insecure in his job to leave town for long.

Friends worried about his health, emotional and physical. "He has grown several years older in the last month," William Sturgis Bigelow wrote Henry Cabot Lodge. "At this rate it is only a question of time when he has a breakdown, and when he does it will be a bad one.... We shall lose one of the very few really first-class men in the country."152 Roosevelt's spirits sank lower as his reserves of physical strength dwindled. "It really seems that there must must be some fearful short-coming on my side to account for the fact that I have not one New York City newspaper, nor one New York City politician of note on my side. Don't think," he reassured Lodge, "that I even for a moment dream of abandoning my fight; I shall continue absolutely unmoved from my present course and shall accept philosophically whatever violent end may be put to my political career." be some fearful short-coming on my side to account for the fact that I have not one New York City newspaper, nor one New York City politician of note on my side. Don't think," he reassured Lodge, "that I even for a moment dream of abandoning my fight; I shall continue absolutely unmoved from my present course and shall accept philosophically whatever violent end may be put to my political career."153 One person who met him during these dark days was Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula Dracula. After watching Roosevelt in action at a literary dinner table, and afterward dispensing summary justice in the police courts, Stoker wrote in his diary: "Must be President some day. A man you can't cajole, can't frighten, can't buy."154

"A man you can't cajole, can't frighten, can't buy."

Theodore Roosevelt as president of the New York City Police Board. (Illustration 19.2)

CHAPTER 20.

The Snake in the Grass Eric the son of Hakon JarlA death-drink salt as the seaPledges to thee,Olaf the King!

THE ELECTION OF 1895, which cast such sudden shadows over Theodore Roosevelt, threw contrasting beams of light on an old man he had long managed to ignore, but would have to reckon with in future. Thomas Collier Platt was now, after years of powerful obscurity, the undisputed Republican manager of New York State,1 and a major force in the upcoming Presidential contest. and a major force in the upcoming Presidential contest.

"The Easy Boss"-as Platt was known for his patient, courteous manner-had entered politics before Roosevelt was born. In 1856 he had been a "campaign troubadour" for John Charles Fremont, the Republican party's first Presidential candidate.2 He had become a Congressman in 1872, when little Teedie was still stuffing birds on the Nile; he was elected to the U.S. Senate in 1881, about the same time young Theodore first ran up the steps of Morton Hall. Since then the careers of the two men-a quarter of a century apart in age, and diametrically opposed in personality-had intertwined with a closeness remarkable for the fact that they seem never to have actually met. He had become a Congressman in 1872, when little Teedie was still stuffing birds on the Nile; he was elected to the U.S. Senate in 1881, about the same time young Theodore first ran up the steps of Morton Hall. Since then the careers of the two men-a quarter of a century apart in age, and diametrically opposed in personality-had intertwined with a closeness remarkable for the fact that they seem never to have actually met.3 Fortune spotlighted now one, now the other after Roosevelt's election to the New York State Legislature in 1881. Platt was then suffering his darkest hour, having resigned from the Senate in support of Boss Roscoe Conkling's patronage stand against President Garfield. He had failed at reelection, and withdrew into the wings just as Roosevelt took his bow in the Assembly. During the years that followed, Platt worked quietly offstage to assume control of the state Republican organization. In 1884 he had been one of the New York delegates to the Chicago Convention. While Roosevelt campaigned for Edmunds, Platt campaigned for Blaine, seconding his nomination and disbursing large amounts of "boodle" on his behalf. He and Roosevelt had joined forces in making Blaine's nomination unanimous on the final day, but the older man's triumph was the younger man's humiliation. Then it was Roosevelt's turn to retire from public life, while Platt continued his takeover of the organization. Two years later, when Roosevelt ran for Mayor, Platt reluctantly put his machine to work for him. He was disgusted at the "boy" candidate's defeat: like Roosevelt, he preferred not to recall that disaster in later years. Fortune spotlighted now one, now the other after Roosevelt's election to the New York State Legislature in 1881. Platt was then suffering his darkest hour, having resigned from the Senate in support of Boss Roscoe Conkling's patronage stand against President Garfield. He had failed at reelection, and withdrew into the wings just as Roosevelt took his bow in the Assembly. During the years that followed, Platt worked quietly offstage to assume control of the state Republican organization. In 1884 he had been one of the New York delegates to the Chicago Convention. While Roosevelt campaigned for Edmunds, Platt campaigned for Blaine, seconding his nomination and disbursing large amounts of "boodle" on his behalf. He and Roosevelt had joined forces in making Blaine's nomination unanimous on the final day, but the older man's triumph was the younger man's humiliation. Then it was Roosevelt's turn to retire from public life, while Platt continued his takeover of the organization. Two years later, when Roosevelt ran for Mayor, Platt reluctantly put his machine to work for him. He was disgusted at the "boy" candidate's defeat: like Roosevelt, he preferred not to recall that disaster in later years.4

"A decent man must must oppose him." oppose him."

Thomas Collier Platt in the 1890s. (Illustration 20.1) Platt's political luster faded again in 1888, when Benjamin Harrison allegedly promised him a Cabinet post in return for campaign help, only to forget about it after the election. Instead, the Easy Boss had the chagrin of seeing Roosevelt made Civil Service Commissioner, and go on to publicize a cause for which he, Platt, had nothing but contempt.5 For the next six years he had watched Roosevelt's progress with disapproval, tempered by a certain amount of professional respect. For the next six years he had watched Roosevelt's progress with disapproval, tempered by a certain amount of professional respect.

It had been Platt's organization that swept William Strong into office in 1894, and he was none too pleased when the Mayor appointed Theodore Roosevelt as Police Commissioner. Platt wished to use the Police Board (in its capacity as Board of Elections) to gerrymander the city, as he already had the state; but Roosevelt's gritty idealism began to interfere with the smooth workings of his machine. Roosevelt, in turn, declared that he was "astounded" at Platt's success "in identifying himself with the worst men and worst forces in every struggle, so that a decent man must must oppose him." oppose him."6 A confrontation between Boss and Commissioner was therefore inevitable. Both men, in effect, had been preparing for it for eleven years,7 but they waited until the 1895 election to determine who would have the upper hand. Even then, Platt bided his time. With both houses of the Legislature now firmly under control, he was gearing up his organization for the most massive gerrymander in American history-in which the eradication of a Theodore Roosevelt would be merely incidental. Platt's ambition was to combine old New York (Manhattan and the Bronx) with Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island into the metropolis of Greater New York. This would automatically double his powers of patronage. The present Police Department would be abolished, along with those of Fire and Health, and replaced by metropolitan commissions, which he would pack with organization appointees. It went without saying that under such legislation the "side-door saloons" would flourish once more-but on behalf of the Republican party for a change. but they waited until the 1895 election to determine who would have the upper hand. Even then, Platt bided his time. With both houses of the Legislature now firmly under control, he was gearing up his organization for the most massive gerrymander in American history-in which the eradication of a Theodore Roosevelt would be merely incidental. Platt's ambition was to combine old New York (Manhattan and the Bronx) with Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island into the metropolis of Greater New York. This would automatically double his powers of patronage. The present Police Department would be abolished, along with those of Fire and Health, and replaced by metropolitan commissions, which he would pack with organization appointees. It went without saying that under such legislation the "side-door saloons" would flourish once more-but on behalf of the Republican party for a change.8 Roosevelt had no immediate doom to fear from the Greater New York Bill, for the earliest consolidation date would be 1 January, 1898. But then he began to hear rumors that Platt was drawing up a supplementary bill which would legislate him out of office long before that. Unable to stand the suspense, he asked his old friend and organization contact, Joe Murray, to arrange an interview with the Easy Boss.9 Early in the New Year word came back that Platt would see him in the Fifth Avenue Hotel on Sunday, 19 January 1896. Early in the New Year word came back that Platt would see him in the Fifth Avenue Hotel on Sunday, 19 January 1896.

LIKE THE L LORD, Platt was wont to receive the faithful, and hear their supplications, on the Sabbath. This was not due to any messiah complex on his part: Sunday was simply the most convenient day for out-of-town legislators, big businessmen, and overworked Police Commissioners to visit him. Still, there was something quaintly religious about the little knot of worshipers that gathered every seventh day outside his sanctuary; regular attendants like Quigg, "Smooth Ed" Lauterbach, and Chauncey Depew were nicknamed "Platt's Sunday School Class." After seeing the old man they settled on plush sofas at the end of the corridor to await his decisions. This niche was called the "Amen" corner, on the grounds that no other response was possible once Platt had made up his mind. Presidents Lincoln, Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, and Harrison had all sat here, as well as James G. Blaine, who, in Platt's opinion, "ought to have been President."10 Roosevelt might have been excused some feeling of trepidation in following such august predecessors. If not, the sight of the Easy Boss was enough to give any young man pause. Roosevelt might have been excused some feeling of trepidation in following such august predecessors. If not, the sight of the Easy Boss was enough to give any young man pause.