THEODORE ROOSEVELT AND HIS SISTERS.* DOUGLAS RosiNsow, the sister of
Mr. Roosevelt, one of the most charming and most cultivated of New York women, gives us an attractive account of her brother. One of the memorable and delightful things about the Roosevelts has always been their downrightness mixed with a distinct gaiety of heart and with a deep family affection. That has been the mark of the generation which is now passing away. It was the mark of the generation before it, and there is every sign that it will be the mark of the family in the future. By the family we mean all those who have Roose- velt blood in their veins. Great-heartedness, enthusiasm, zest in life, and a determination to preserve individual freedom and independence and yet to be helpful to their fellows was the basis of a family freemasonry which grew up among them. We use the word "-freemasonry " advisedly, because the ethos of the Roosevelt family is something quite different from that mere mutual admiration which is often the characteristic of strong families, The Roosevelts admired and loved each other, as this book shows, in a hundred ways, but it was with an admiration of an entirely special nature. It made for a wholesome development of character.
An example of what we mean is shown in Mrs. Robinson's dedication of her book to her well-loved sister, Mrs. Cowles. With the graciousness, as well as the zeal and affection which marks her, Mrs. Robinson speaks of her sister's devotion to her distinguished brother and of that brother's deep and unswerving love and admiration for her. But it must not be supposed from this that Mrs. Cowles was his favourite sister. Mrs. Douglas Robinson held as high a place in his heart.
The cynical reader will, no doubt, find plenty of things in Mrs. Robinson's book which he can call foolish, irrelevant, or even dull, but, all the same, and though we are jealous of any dilution of Mr. Roosevelt's fame, we are distinctly glad that she had the courage to ignore such criticism in advance and to tell the story of her brother's childhood simply and enthusiastically and without that watchful reticence which would have killed the character of the book.
Here is an example of what will be called trivial, Inn it seems to us a story not only touching in itself but exactly characteristic of the President. Mr. Roosevelt was sometimes inclined to talk in a way which made superficial observers regard him as a hard, independent man who would stand no nonsense and no sentiment. Yet all the time he was a man deeply moved and easily moved on the emotional side. The Roosevelt family were in Rome at the end of the 'sixties and played, like other English-speaking children, on the Pincian Hill. While they were playing at leap-frog word was suddenly passed round that the Pope was coming.
" Teedie ' whispered to the little group of American children that he didn't believe in popes—that no real American would ; and we all felt it was due to the stars and stripes that we should share his attitude of distant disapproval. But then, as is often the case, the miracle happened, for the crowd parted, and to our excited, childish eyes something very much like a scene in a story-book took place. The Pope, who was in his sedan-chair carried by bearers in beautiful costumes, his benign face framed in white hair and the close cap which he wore, caught sight of the group of eager little children craning their necks to see him pass ; and he smiled and put out one fragile, delicate hand toward us, and, lo the late scoffer who, in spite of the ardent Americanism that burned in his eleven-year-old soul, had as much reverence as militant patriotism in his nature, • My Brother Theodore Roosevelt. By Corinne Roosevelt Robinson. London and New York : Charles Scribner's Bona. [15s. net.]
fell upon his knees and kissed the delicate hand, which for a brief moment was laid upon his fair curling hair. Whenever I think of Rome this memory comes back to me, and in a way it was so true to the character of my brother. The Pope to him -had always meant what later he would have called -" un- warranted superstitiOn," -but that Pope. Pio None, the kindly, benign old man, the moment he appeared in the flesh brought about in my brother's heart the reaction which always came when the pure, the -good, or the true crossed his path."
That is almost as good a papal story as that of the Pope whom the great Napoleon brought a virtual captive from the Vatican to grace his coronation as Emperor. The Pope, while moving about Paris, was accustomed to give his blessing freely, for he soon became a very popular character. It happened, however, that one day, while going through the galleries of the Louvre, he gave his blessing to a little crowd that contained a fierce, anti-clerical Jacobin and ex-revolutionary. The man showed the greatest disgust and contempt at receiving the Pope's blessing ; but the Pope, with his Italian grace and good manners, -easily got the best of the scowling brows and the muttered curses. He apologized humbly to the man whom he had blessed by mistake. " I do not think, sir, that after all an old man's blessing can do you any harm." Quite as little could Roose- velt's boyish kiss make him a votary to superstition.
All who had the good fortune to see and know the White House during the Roosevelt regime will be pleased to have their memories awakened by Mrs. Douglas Robinson's account of that life and of the way in which her brother'" ran his show." Well may Mrs. Robinson be proud of her brother, and she may feel no doubts as to her countrymen keeping his memory green.
We will go further and say that his fame will grow greater and more firmly established with each year that passes. The preju- dice and the hate will die down and the admiration will grow. Thirty years hence men will blush to think their fathers were his Thee.
Previous page
