Foraker Joseph Benson - Taking on Theodore Roosevelt: how one Senator defied the President on Brownsville and shook American politics

I begin by expressing my gratitude and thanks to the archivists and librarians who guided me through their collections. From tips about a folder, box of letters, newspaper clipping or keepsake that might prove worthwhile to helping me thread the microfilm through the microfilm reader (no two readers work the same way, and most do not work at all), their assistance was invaluable. One in particular stands out. It has been said that no narrative on Theodore Roosevelt could have been written over the past thirty or more years without Wallace Dailey, former curator and fierce protector of the Theodore Roosevelt Collection at Harvard University, and I believe it. Future Roosevelt scholars may never know how immeasurably more difficult their tasks will be because he now enjoys the retirement he so deserves.

Unexpectedly, one of the most nettlesome, frustrating, and time-consuming tasks I encountered was obtaining the book's illustrations. There are no words to describe the patience, helpfulness, and friendliness of people across the country who held my hand and soothed my frustrations as they guided me through their collections and secured what I needed. Special thanks to John Anderson of the Texas State Library and Archives in Austin, Kia Campbell of the Library of Congress in Washington, Jillian Carney of the Ohio History Connection in Columbus, curator Heather Cole of the Theodore Roosevelt Collection at Harvard, Ayla Jaramillo of the Brownsville Historical Association, and Nicole Joniec of the Library Company of Philadelphia. One man, the photographer of the photo of the elderly Dorsie Willis, has become a friend. Boyd Hagen, you deserve a medal.

At a conference in Chicago the exceptionally talented writer and historian David McCullough recommended I speak to the Roosevelt family genealogist Timothy Beard, who then was kind enough to see me at his home in the most beautiful town in Connecticut and share with me what he knew. Archibald Grimk biographer Dickson D. Bruce cordially and candidly spoke to me about Grimk and about the research room at Howard University. His Honor Judge James Cissell of the Hamilton County (Ohio) Probate Court invited me to his chambers to talk about the Forakers and to help with the Foraker probate file, long filed away and forgotten. Professors Emeritus Lewis Gould in Austin and John M. Blum in New Haven shared their insights on Theodore Roosevelt and the world of politics in the early twentieth century. They could not have been more gracious and helpful to a stranger whose only endorsement was a love of history.

James and Marjie Pehta, wonderful friends from the Theodore Roosevelt Association, remembered so often to give me encouragement. Fred Bateman, Doug Callander, and Rabbi Tom Liebschutz read chapters and were unafraid to point out the many parts that needed improvement. Heather Pudvin talked to me about the book, brightened many a day, and, on my Book Mondays devoted only to Brownsville, nourished me with her delicious treats. She is a special friend to me and my family.

To very dear friend Joanne Harrison, who read drafts of more chapters than anyone other than my wife and my editors and always asked for another, I give uncommon thanks and my special love. Her telephone calls to my favorite writer made the writing itself easier.

My family in Florida, Lee and Claire Hager, did more than encourage, although they did that too. The three weeks of solitude and concentration at their place in North Carolina gave me what I needed to surge, and it was there the narrative turned the corner. Without it there would have been no book. My brother Fred Lembeck, the first of us to write a book, was an inspiration.

Agent Don Fehr and Prometheus Books editor in chief Steven L. Mitchell took a chance on me when others would not.

From syntax to spelling to style sheet, my editor Jennifer Peterson. What the practice of law lost when she turned to editing is my and the book's gain. As I told my friends Sam and Lisa Olens, who were our matchmakers, Wow, what a find! Thanks, Jennifer. Together, Mariel Bard, my copyeditor at Prometheus Books, and I weathered the perfect storm as cascading events fell upon us during the final editing. Together we got through it.

To my children and grandchildren, from now on there will be no more Little League games not gone to, family get-togethers postponed, memories not made because there will be no more Grandpa's writing his Brownsville book.

Fourteen years ago the love of my life, my wife, Emily, told me I had a book in me and I should write it. After a few years she convinced me to get started, cheered me on, supported me throughout and comforted me by never failing to say at those times I needed to hear it the most, Oh, this part is really good. For twenty-seven years she has given me all the love any man would want and has inspired me to be my best in all I do. As she is in all she does. This book is Emily's from cover to cover; she is on every page. For whatever value the book has, the credit is hers, and I accept its failures and lapses as my own. As its writing ends I dedicate Taking on Theodore Roosevelt to her with all my love.

Harry Lembeck

A BIZARRE BROWNSVILLE CONFESSION, believable because of its source, was never heard by the Senate committee or anyone else since it was not disclosed for twenty years, and then it was ignored. It comes by way of two men rarely mentioned in any Theodore Roosevelt narrative.

JAMES AMOS'S FATHER WAS a black policeman in Washington, DC, with a beat in Rock Creek Park, where President Roosevelt enjoyed riding his horse. Roosevelt would occasionally stop to chat with the senior Mr. Amos, who felt at ease enough with Roosevelt to ask one day if there might be an opening for his son at the White House. Roosevelt told him to send the boy to see the steward. The younger Mr. Amos, then in his twenties, was given charge of handling the exuberant Roosevelt children and did the job so well that eventually Roosevelt asked him to be his own valet. He would be with Roosevelt day and night, traveling with him, even carrying Roosevelt's daily pin-money allowance from Mrs. Roosevelt.

In his memoirs of his service to Roosevelt, Amos wrote of what he called the Brownsville Shooting Affair. He recalled big Republican leaders warning Roosevelt he was making a mistake, but Roosevelt told them he knew he was right.

According to Amos, Roosevelt had good reason to know he was

THE LIEUTENANT FORTESCUE TO whom Amos referred was Granville Roland Fortescue, and he was indeed a Roosevelt relative as Amos said, though no one seemed to know just how. As a young adult, stories about his bad-boy escapades made news, and he was described as Roosevelt's relative, sometimes his distant relative, occasionally his nephew, even as related through Mrs. Roosevelt. He was in fact Roosevelt's first cousin, who grew up in New York close to where Roosevelt lived as a boy. Because of their eighteen-year age difference they were not close in those days, but they were good friends when Roosevelt was in the White House.

Fortescue's mother was Minnie O'Toole Fortescue. His father was Robert Roosevelt, Theodore's Uncle Rob, the family Democrat, who, with his wife and family, lived in a mirror-image townhouse next door to the one Theodore grew up in.

But the family next door was not the family Uncle Rob had with Minnie O'Toole Fortescue. She was his longtime mistress, with whom he had a second family, and Granville Roland Fortescue, known as Roly, was one of their five children. There never was a Mr. Fortescue. Uncle Rob made him up to give Minnie cover for her (and his own) children. Like an espionage agent fleshing out a counterfeit identity by salting his life with enough detail to make it plausible, he decided that she needed a husband, so he made one up for hera lawyer named Robert F. Fortescue. And Granville Roland Fortescue may have had a grandly British name, but there was not a lick of the Brit in him. His mother, Minnie O'Toole, immigrated from Ireland, and his father, Robert Roosevelt, was of Dutch descent.