Theodore roosevelt for t.., p.15
Theodore Roosevelt for the Defense, page 15
The reporters picked up that phrase, “easy boss,” and pinned it to both Roosevelt and Platt.
Barnum had been matter-of-fact throughout his cross-examination, and for the most part Roosevelt had managed to maintain his composure, even when some of those revealing letters were being read. But glimpses of anger still managed to surface; for example Barnum asked if the correspondence he was reading covered practically all of the important “acts or measures” that took place while Roosevelt was governor. When the Colonel said it did not, Barnum asked what percentage it did cover. When T.R. began mentioning some of the issues left out, Barnum stopped him. Roosevelt shrugged. “I am only trying to help you.”
To which Barnum retorted coldly, “I appreciate it, but I have not asked for your help and do not need it.”
With that, Ivins resumed the questioning. He continued with the readings, although now he began reading the exceedingly friendly correspondence between Roosevelt and Barnes. Among those first letters was a note the Colonel had sent to Barnes in Albany following the 1904 election. “Pray let me thank you most cordially and warmly for what you have done in this election. I appreciate it to the full. With regards to Mrs. Barnes, believe me...”
Jurors have been known to reach their verdict for almost any conceivable reason, but at times it just comes down to a feeling: Who did they like better? Who did they believe? It’s why attorneys try to form some sort of ethereal bond with jurors, and walk a tightrope when questioning a witness between seeming too lax or too tough. The jury listened dispassionately, but the impression left by these letters certainly could hardly have supported the claims of corruption and dishonesty that came later.
At one point Ivins stopped and wondered, “At this time you had not yet discovered that Mr. Barnes was Mr. Hyde, had you?”
“Wasn’t my testimony that I thought that element was in him from the beginning?”
“I don’t think it was.”
“I think it was;” the Colonel corrected. “I think you are in error.”
Suddenly, without laying any preparation, Ivins set off on an entirely new path, seeking to show that Roosevelt was an active participant in the “invisible government,” this alliance between corrupt business and corrupt politicians that he had railed against. He did so by tying together campaign contributions and actions either taken or not taken during his administration. One of the most significant controversies during his administration was the 1907 purchase of the Tennessee Coal and Iron Company by the Steel Corporation. Critics tried to stop that merger, claiming it gave the Steel Corporation a monopoly over the industry. Roosevelt himself had so often taken action against these large corporations, or trusts, that he had become known as the Trust Buster. But during the financial panic of 1907, he assured the president of the Steel Corporation that he would not invoke provisions of the Sherman Anti-Trust Act to prevent his merger of two industrial giants. Many people wondered why he had stepped back, and Ivins offered a suggestion. “Was Mr. Frick one of the contributors to your campaign?”
Henry Frick was a coal baron, a founder of U. S. Steel and one of the wealthiest men in America.
“He was.”
“Was he interested in the Steel Corporation?”
“He was.”
“Was Judge Gary one of the contributors to your campaign, interested in the steel corporation?”
Elbert Gary also was a founder of the Steel Corporation.
“He was.”
“Was Mr. Perkins one of the contributors to your campaign interested in the steel corporation?”
J.P. Morgan banker George Perkins had helped put together the steel corporation.
“He was.”
Ivins asked if the Colonel had considered prosecuting Perkins Harvester Company for violations of antitrust legislation. Roosevelt said he did not remember such a step being discussed, causing Ivins to ask, his words dripping with sarcasm, if contributions figured in the decision not to go after that company.
The inference was obvious: in exchange for real or promised campaign contributions, the Colonel had allowed a merger to take place that furthered a monopoly and ignored other potential violations. This was the ultimate affront to Roosevelt, and the anger showed on his face. He gritted his teeth and with his hands grasping the arms of his chair pushed forward, as if ready to burst out of his seat and pounce.
The defendant’s counsel, Bowers, finally showed spunk, objecting vehemently. “Now they seek to show that contributions were made by certain persons who were interested in the steel corporation. Nothing is suggested that there was any prosecution that ought to have been brought against the steel corporation. Nothing is suggested that any favor was sought for by anybody whatsoever concerning the steel corporation. Not a word is given to indicate any reason why any action should have been brought against the steel corporation. I object to going on with such questions as that leave the assumption of very serious and substantial matters.”
Ivins responded, thumping his table and declaring, “That is not material here.”
“Yes!” Roosevelt shot back, slamming his hand on the bench with equal fury. “It is material.”
It created a dilemma for the judge, who admitted, “The trouble with a good deal of evidence in this case is that I cannot tell at the outset whether it is to be connected to it... Mr. Ivins says he is going to try to. If he does not make it material, I shall strike it out.”
Ivins’s response was modest; with a bow he said, “I suffer from some human limitations, that is that I can only ask one question at a time.”
Bowers countered, “You have only asked one question at a time, but I am inclined to think that the course I have taken in permitting the introduction of evidence of almost every kind and character here has resulted in your having used a great deal of time for a great deal of unnecessary matter.”
After some legal bickering, Judge Andrews accepted Ivins’s plea that he intended to connect all his points in forthcoming testimony, pointing out correctly, “I cannot introduce evidence of that kind in my cross-examination of this witness.”
Bowers was finally unleashed. After another question he deemed pointless, he pleaded, “Now stop please with that. We will be here all summer trying this case.”
“We may,” Ivins said, not the slightest bit deterred. “I cannot tell. We did not start this game.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Yes, you did, Mr. Roosevelt made the first publication.”
The entire courtroom was laughing lightly at the sight of these accomplished lawyers exchanging playground insults. But eventually Ivins got back to his point: Did Roosevelt accept campaign contributions from Perkins who was interested in the American Harvester Company? Was Pierre du Pont of the chemical concern a contributor to his 1904 campaign?
Roosevelt had staked his reputation on being independent, that his influence or power was not for sale, but now Ivins seemed to be promising to produce evidence that the Colonel was duplicitous. If he was successful, Roosevelt’s reputation would be greatly damaged.
Ivins moved from there to relations between his client and the Colonel, which Roosevelt asserted was “entirely pleasant until sometime after February, 1911,” or when Roosevelt decided to run against President Taft. “I opposed him strongly in 1910,” T.R. testified. “But my relations personally were perfectly pleasant.”
Ivins then handed him a speech and asked if he remembered having said anything of this kind? Roosevelt read it and handed it back to him, explaining, “Mr. Ivins, you showed me a speech made by Mr. Barnes and asked if I said it. Of course I didn’t.” The courtroom responded with great laughter.
It got worse. Ivins gave Roosevelt an article from a 1910 edition of the New York Times and asked, “whether you noticed a reported or alleged statement by Mr. Barnes...”
Bowers explained that Ivins wanted to know “whether you see that there now?”
“No, not at all,” Ivins said. “I am not an idiot. I know he sees it now.” Once again, laughter filled the courtroom.
Judge Andrews continued to tread very lightly, explaining to the jury that he was allowing a series of newspaper and magazine articles to be entered as evidence only about the “feeling of the defendant toward the plaintiff” and not to prove the truth of it.
Perhaps the most difficult challenge facing Ivins in order to win any real damages was showing malice, proving that Roosevelt’s libelous words were written with the intent to do harm to Barnes. Doing that in this case required showing the history of the dispute between the two men and the source of Roosevelt’s anger. To begin that task Ivins read an article from the Times in 1912, when the two men were battling over the Republican nomination at the Chicago convention. This was the tipping point that turned what had been a friendship or at least an alliance into an irreconcilable political and personal rivalry. In the article, Teddy Roosevelt, the candidate fighting for the party’s nomination, was introduced to the courtroom and the jurors. And as had usually been the case, he held nothing in reserve: “There are many honest men who have not agreed with me in this contest,” the Colonel was quoted as saying, “and who do not believe that the people are fit to govern themselves. But surely these men must agree with us when we come down to a question of making right and wrong such as it is involved in the effort of Mr. Barnes and his associates on behalf of Mr. Taft to reverse the popular verdict and to nominate at Chicago some man whom the rank and file of the Republican party have declared they do not desire to see nominated...”
The battle to appoint a temporary chairman was significant, as that person would control the convention floor. Roosevelt was adamant that “no man should be chosen as temporary chairman who is put forward by Mr. Barnes and by those men who represent the principles and practices of Mr. Barnes.”
“Did you say that?” Ivins asked his witness.
Roosevelt agreed, “I said that.”
Days later he was again quoted by the newspapers, “The (party) platform and the speeches expounding it...show that it was designed in defense and advocacy of the twin principles for which Mr. Barnes stands—the bosses to rule the people and the supremacy of privilege over the right of humanity.”
“I said that.”
Still later, “Mr. Barnes stands as the representative of the very worst forms of bossism and politics. No progressive delegate can afford to vote for any man supported by Mr. Barnes and his allies, for any such vote is a vote against popular rule and against the basic principles not merely of the Republican party but of decent American citizens.
“Mr. Barnes...states that the doctrines which I have advocated are subversive to our form of government. The doctrines that I have advocated are, first, the right of the people to rule, and second, their duty so to rule as to bring about not merely political but also social and industrial justice... Mr. Barnes thoroughly distrusts the people and says so. He disbelieves in democracy. In his preaching and in practice he embodies boss rule in its most effective form.”
Harsh words. “He distrusts the people and says so.”
“He disbelieves in democracy.” As they were being read, Roosevelt sat upright, paying close attention, occasionally glancing at the jury to make sure they were hearing every word. These articles were much easier for him to absorb than the private letters.
In still another article the Colonel accused Barnes of stealing convention delegates to obtain the nomination for Taft. If there was any concern that jurors were not paying attention or were confused, it was allayed when talesman Walter Zuill suddenly spoke out from the jury box, asking the judge, “Are we to understand that these last three articles are received with the same privilege as the other two?”
It served as a reminder that jurors throughout history had been active participants in trials, permitted to ask questions.
Judge Andrews said his same ruling applied to this article as the others. The intent, he reiterated was to show “the state of mind of the defendant towards the plaintiff prior to the alleged libel.”
Roosevelt’s bitter attacks on the evils of the boss system continued after the election. In a speech in Pittsburgh he said, “They stole from the rank and file Republican party the right to govern themselves, to nominate their own candidates and promulgate their own platform... They are foes of decent citizenship. Their political lives depend upon their keeping politics in such condition that decent men cannot succeed them and the ordinary citizen cannot get control of their own government.”
“I said that,” the witness admitted, and court was adjourned.
CHAPTER EIGHT
While the trial continued to dominate the front page of hundreds of newspapers throughout the country, the war in Europe was always lurking in the background. The New York Times headlines read, “Hit at Roosevelt as Trusts Friend;” “Ivins Intimates Campaign Gifts Held Back Steel, Harvester and Other Prosecutions;” “How Colonel Worked Hand in Glove with Platt and Barnes Is Emphasized.” But it was the other stories that seemed more ominous: “Allies at Ypres Take Offensive,” “Allies Battle for A Foothold at Dardanelles” and a small sidebar near the bottom of the page that warned, “Says Poison Gas Killed Canadians.”
The Great War had been raging in Europe for almost a year. In America, a sizable number of immigrants from countries on both sides of the conflict lobbied for support for their nations, but President Wilson pursued the narrow path of neutrality. Roosevelt had spoken out repeatedly and forcefully for America to intervene on the side of England and France. Two months before the trial began he had written, “More and more I come to the view that in a really tremendous world struggle, with a great moral issue involved, neutrality does not serve righteousness; to be neutral between right and wrong is to serve wrong.”
On numerous occasions Roosevelt urged Wilson to begin preparing for war by training soldiers and refitting the navy. But the president had refused, believing there was protection in neutrality.
As the participants entered the Syracuse courtroom on April 28, 1915, news was arriving that a French cruiser, the Léon Gambetta, had been torpedoed by an Austrian submarine and its 529-man crew had perished. The German government also was refusing to compensate the owners of the American sailing ship William Frye, which had been boarded off the coast of Brazil by the crew of the SMS Prinz Eitel Friedrich and subsequently destroyed. The highest profile trial in the country was taking place against the backdrop of increasingly ominous signs that the United States could be dragged into a truly world war.
Ivins resumed his attack by asking Roosevelt if he recalled making a speech after the publication of the statements at issue in a town named Hudson Falls. The Colonel did not, and asked Ivins where Hudson Falls was. The tone of the day was set when the lawyer replied sarcastically, “I have never been Governor and I have not been all over the State and I have not made many speeches. I am not a good geographer of the State.” When the witness suggested he had no doubt he’d made the speech but didn’t remember the place, Ivins asked, “If I were to tell you that it was north of Saratoga would that help?”
Roosevelt cut to the chase: “If you would show me the speech I think I could remember it.”
Ivins quoted a line from the speech, then demanded the Colonel, “Just answer yes or no. Did you make that speech?”
And with that the Colonel threw back at the lawyer his continued demands on precision. “You ask me if I made it at Hudson Falls. I cannot answer that yes or no.”
The essence of the material Ivins wanted in the record was Roosevelt’s belief, as stated in this speech, that the Republican and Democratic bosses often worked together for the good of the political boss system rather than the people. And that his deliberate repetition of this charge both before and after publication of the allegedly libelous article, even after the action against him had been filed and his attention had been brought to it, supports the charge that his intentions were malicious. Instead of rectifying or modifying his statements, he continued to speak out, using words and phrases such as, “What I object to is their going through the form of being in different parties when on the great issues that must concern our whole people they stand together.”
Ivins quoted from the speech: “The principles and practices of politics in which one of them believes are just exactly the principles and practices which the other believes... It is the same type of government that they have been responsible for...”
When that was read to the jury, Roosevelt objected that several sentences had been omitted. From memory, he added, “Such as this, ‘If there were real party distinctions in this state Mr. Barnes and Mr. Murphy would be in the same party and I would not object to that.’”
“It is a sorry jest,” Ivins quoted from another Roosevelt speech. “It is brazen effrontery and hypocrisy for them to assume that they are against Tammany. They are against Tammany before the election if it will help them. They are for Tammany after the election if anything can be put through...”
Roosevelt made similar speeches throughout the state; in Utica and Gloversville and Amsterdam and Norwich and Oneonta and Syracuse and other places, all of them attacking party bosses. “I won’t say their principles are the same because I am not ready to admit myself as to whether they have any principle but their practices are the same. When either is in control of the State government at Albany we get just the same results out of that government...”
Ivins read portions of another stirring speech, this one reprinted in Putnam’s magazine: “There are in the body politic, economic and social, many and grave evils and there is urgent necessity for the sternest war upon them... I hail as a benefactor every writer or speaker, every man who, on the platform or in book, magazine or newspaper, with merciless severity makes such attack, provided always that he in his turn remembers that the attack is of use only if it is absolutely truthful. The liar is no whit better than the thief, and if his mendacity takes the form of slander he may be worse than most thieves. It puts a premium upon knavery untruthfully to attack an honest man, or even with hysterical exaggeration to assail a bad man with untruth...
