One day after we had been married less than a year my husband came home looking so studiously unconcerned that I knew at once he had something to tell me.
"Nellie, what would you think," he began casually, "if I should be appointed a Judge of the Superior Court?"
"Oh, don't try to be funny," I exclaimed. "That's perfectly impossible."
But it was not impossible, as he soon convinced me. My father had just refused the same appointment and it was difficult to believe that it could now be offered to my husband who was only twenty-nine years old. It was a position made vacant by the retirement from the Bench of Judge Judson Harmon who was my husband's senior by more than a decade.
One of the most prominent and prosperous law firms in Cincinnati was that of Hoadley, Johnston and Colston, and both Mr. Hoadley and Mr. Johnston had been invited to go to New York and become partners of Mr. Edward Lauterbach who was then doing an enormous business.
They went, and the old firm in Cincinnati being broken up, Mr. Colston asked Judge Harmon, who was then on the Superior Court, to take Mr. Hoadley's place. Mr. Harmon decided to do so, but he was anxious to resign his judgeship in such a way as to leave a long enough vacancy to attract a good man. It was an elective office and the law provided that a vacancy occurring within thirty days before election could not be filled by an election until the following year. Judge Harmon resigned so as to make the appointment for a period of fourteen months. After my father declined it, the choice lay between Mr. Taft and Mr. Bellamy Storer. Mr. Taft always thought that but for his opportunity in the Campbell case Judge Harmon would not have recommended him and Governor Foraker would not have appointed him. That is why he says he traces all his success back to that occasion. Mr. Foraker was opposing counsel in the Campbell case, but he had a lawyer's appreciation for a lawyer's effort.
After the first pleased surprise at the honour which came to us so unexpectedly I began to think; and my thinking led me to decide that my husband's appointment on the Bench was not a matter for such warm congratulation after all. I saw him in close association with men not one of whom was less than fifteen years older than he, and most of whom were much more than that. He seemed to me suddenly to take on a maturity and sedateness quite out of keeping with his actual years and I dreaded to see him settled for good in the judiciary and missing all the youthful enthusiasms and exhilarating difficulties which a more general contact with the world would have given him. In other words, I began even then to fear the narrowing effects of the Bench and to prefer for him a diverse experience which would give him an all-round professional development.
He did not share this feeling in any way. His appointment on the Superior Court was to him the welcome beginning of just the career he wanted. After serving the interim of fourteen months he became a candidate for the office and was elected for a term of five years. This was the only elective office Mr. Taft ever held until he became President.
My own time and interest during that winter was largely spent on my house. We had been very particular about the plans for it and had fully intended that it should combine outward impressiveness with inward roominess and comfort. It was a frame structure, shingled all over, and with certain bay window effects which pleased me exceedingly. In fact, with our assistance, the architect had made a special effort to produce something original and, while I don't claim that the result was a conspicuous architectural success, to my mind it was anything but a failure. And our view of the Ohio River and the surrounding country was really superb.
But I was not destined to enjoy my satisfaction with my surroundings very long. The section had been at one time a stone quarry, and the man who had levelled off the land and filled in the gulches made by the quarry operations, took as a part of his compensation two building lots which happened to be just across the street from ours. He forthwith proceeded to put up a sort of double house which looked more like a gigantic dry-goods box than anything else, and I felt that it quite robbed the neighbourhood of the "tone" which I had confidently hoped our house would give it. The double house had just one quality and that was size.
I think the owner, whose name was Jerry something, lived in one side of it, and he had a tenant in the other who hung clothes out of the front windows. But tastes in architecture differ, as we soon found out.
We were paying taxes on our house at an assessed value of $4000 and the undervaluation had been troubling my husband's conscience for a long time, in spite of my assuring him that tax collectors ought to know their own business. Some men from the board of equalization were to call one day to make a new appraisement and I had very much hoped that my husband would not be at home. But he was; he was there to welcome them and give them every possible assistance. Without waiting for an examination of the premises, he addressed one of them, an Irishman named Ryan.
"See here, Mr. Ryan," he said, "I understand that Jerry, my neighbour across the street, has his property assessed at $5000. Now I don't think that's fair. I'm assessed at only $4000 and I'm sure my house cost a good deal more than his. As a matter of fact it cost over $6000. Now I'm a Judge of the Superior Court; I get my income out of taxes and I certainly have no disposition to pay any less than my share."
"Well, Judge, your Honour," said Mr. Ryan, "that is a sentiment very befitting your Honour. Now I'll just be after goin' over and lookin' at those houses of Jerry's, and then I'll come back and look at yours."
I watched them as they went over to the other houses; then I saw them go up the street a way and down the street a way, looking us carefully over from every possible viewpoint. When they came in they wore a very judicial aspect and I expected to see taxes go up with one wild leap.
"Well, Judge, your Honour," began Mr. Ryan, "I think you're givin' yourself unnecessary concern. We assess houses for what they're worth and not for what they cost. While your house no doubt suits your taste, it has a peculiar architectural style that wouldn't please very many people, and certainly it ain't to compare with those houses of Jerry's. There's a modern polish about those houses that will rent, Judge, your Honour."
My son Robert was born in this house on McMillan Street in September, 1889. In the following February an interruption occurred in our peaceful existence which was welcome at least to me. President Harrison offered the appointment of Solicitor General of the United States to Mr. Taft and he, with a few regretful glances at his beloved Bench, accepted it. I think that once again it was Major Butterworth who suggested my husband's name to the appointing power. I was very glad because it gave Mr. Taft an opportunity for exactly the kind of work I wished him to do; work in which his own initiative and originality would be exercised and developed. I looked forward with interest, moreover, to a few years in Washington.
Mr. Taft made his first official arrival in Washington alone. My baby, Robert, was only six months old and I concluded to remain in Cincinnati until my husband could make arrangements for our comfortable reception. His description of his first day in Washington is, in the light of later events, rather amusing.
He arrived at six o'clock on a cold, gloomy February morning at the old dirty Pennsylvania station. He wandered out on the street with a heavy bag in his hand looking for a porter, but there were no porters. Then he stood for a few moments looking up at the Capitol and feeling dismally unimportant in the midst of what seemed to him to be very formidable surroundings. He wondered to himself why on earth he had come. He was sure he had made a fatal mistake in exchanging a good position and a pleasant circle at home, where everybody knew him, for a place in a strange and forbidding city where he knew practically nobody and where, he felt sure, nobody wanted to know him. He lugged his bag up to the old Ebbitt House and, after eating a lonesome breakfast, he went to the Department of Justice to be sworn in. After that ceremony was over and he had shaken hands with the Attorney General, he went up to inspect the Solicitor General's Office, and there he met the most dismal sight of the whole dismal day. His "quarters" consisted of a single room, three flights up, and bearing not the slightest resemblance to his mental picture of what the Solicitor General's offices would be like. The Solicitor General's stenographer, it seemed, was a telegrapher in the chief clerk's office and had to be sent for when his services were required. Altogether it must have been a very disheartening outlook.
As Mr. Taft sat looking over briefs and other papers, and trying to get some definite idea about his new work, a messenger brought in a card.
"Mr. Evarts, New York," it read.
Evarts was a well-known name, of course, but it was hard for Mr. Taft to believe that the William M. Evarts, leader of the American Bar and then Senator from New York, could be calling on the Solicitor General of less than a day. He knew that Wm. M. Evarts had known his father.
Mr. Evarts entered.
"Mr. Taft," he said, as he gave my husband's hand a cordial grasp, "I knew your father. I was in the class of '37 at Yale and he had graduated before I entered; but he was there as a tutor in my time and I valued his friendship very highly."
Then the visitor came straight to the point.
"Mrs. Evarts and I are giving a dinner to-night for my former partner and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Choate. Mr. Choate is in Washington for a short time to argue a case before the Supreme Court. Now, unfortunately, one of our guests has sent word that he can't come and I thought, perhaps, considering my long-standing friendship with your father, you might consent to waive ceremony and fill the place at our table at this short notice."
My husband accepted the invitation with almost undue alacrity, and when his guest left started in on his new duties feeling that, after all, Washington might afford just as friendly an atmosphere as Cincinnati, once he became accustomed to it.
There is just one incident in connection with the dinner party which Mr. Taft adds to his account of that day. As he sat down to dinner the ladies on either side of him leaned hastily forward to see what was written on his place-card. "The Solicitor General"—that was all. Of course neither of them knew who the new Solicitor General was and it didn't occur to him to enlighten them until it was too late to do it gracefully. So he allowed them to go on addressing him as "Mr. Solicitor General" while he, having them at an advantage, addressed them by the names which he had surreptitiously read on their place-cards. They were Mrs. Henry Cabot Lodge and Mrs. John Hay.
When my husband had been in Washington two weeks _-_photograph_-_page_26.jpg)
MRS. TAFT, WITH ROBERT AND HELEN, WHEN MR. TAFT WAS SOLICITOR-GENERAL
Washington society was much simpler then than it is now. Since that time a great many people of very large means have gone to Washington to live because of its unusual attractions and its innumerable advantages as a residential city. They have changed Washington, by their generous hospitality, into one of the most brilliant social centres in the world, where large dinner parties, balls, receptions, musicals and other entertainments are of daily and nightly occurrence throughout the season. The very character of the streets has changed. The small, red brick houses, closely grouped together and neighbouring, even in fashionable quarters, on negro shacks and cheap tenements, are being everywhere replaced by marble and granite residences of great beauty and luxury.
In 1890 Society in Washington still consisted, chiefly, of the "best families" of the old city, the Diplomatic Corps and the highest among the government officials. A dinner party of twelve was still considered large, and only a few people had weekly evenings At Home. There were occasional big receptions, but for nobody was society the mad rush that it is to-day. We ourselves lived very simply even for those simple days.
My daughter Helen was born in 1891, so for the last year in Washington I had two small babies to care for. In order that he might get a little much needed exercise Mr. Taft bought a horse and, fortunately, for us, he secured a most adaptable creature. He was supposed to be a riding horse, but he didn't mind making himself generally useful. The Attorney General lent us a carriage which he was not then using—a surrey, I think it was called—and we hitched him to that; and the whole Taft family drove out of a Sunday afternoon to the Old Soldiers' Home, which was the fashionable drive in those days, or up the aqueduct road to Cabin John's bridge. My sister Maria who visited us used always to speak of our steed as "G'up," a name suggested by Bobby's interpretation of his father's invocations to the good-natured and leisurely beast. Poor old "G'up"! I suppose with his "horse sense" he finally realized that he was leading such a double life an no respectable horse should lead; he gave up and died before we left Washington.
The justices of the Supreme Court and the Attorney-General, the men with whom Mr. Taft came most in contact, were, with their wives, very kind and attentive to us, including us in many of their delightful parties. Chief Justice Fuller was then the head of the court and I have the pleasantest memories of his and Mrs. Fuller's hospitality. Justice Grey had married a Miss Matthews, a daughter of Mr. Justice Matthews. I had known Mrs. Gray in Cincinnati before her marriage.
During the course of my first weeks in Washington . Mr Taft had taken special pains to impress on me many times the necessity for my calling on Mrs. Grey without any delay. Much importance attached to the formality of first calls and I was the newest of newcomers who had to call on the wives of all my husband's official superiors before they noticed me. Still, it was a full month before I had time to go to Mrs. Grey's and I was considerably worried about it. But when, finally, I did go and had been most kindly received, I explained at once that the settling of myself and my small baby in a new house had, until then, kept me too busy for any calls. Mrs. Grey hastened to assure me that she understood my position perfectly and had not thought of blaming me.
"Indeed, my dear," she said, "I knew that you had a small baby in the house and that you must be kept constantly occupied. As a matter of fact I should have waived ceremony and come myself to welcome you to Washington except for one thing which I could not very well overlook, and that is—that Mr. Taft has not yet called on Mr. Justice Grey."
I think I have rarely seen anything more satisfactorily amusing than the expression on my husband's face when I told him this.
But, in spite of the friendliness of the Justices and others, we really went out very little. On one occasion when my sister Maria had been visiting us for several weeks we went for a Sunday night supper to the house of a lady whom Maria had known very well in Cincinnati. She was living that winter in Washington and seemed to be rather well pleased with her social success. She talked loftily throughout supper, and during a good part of the evening, about the dinner parties she had attended and the grand people she had met. Then just as we were about to start home she turned to my sister and said:
"And have you been much entertained, my dear Maria?"
"Oh, I've been enjoying myself tremendously," was the answer.
"Well, with whom have you dined, dear?" persisted our hostess.
"Why, we've dined with the Andersons, with the German Ambassador, with the Chief Justice, and with the Maurys, and with the French Ambassador,—and with, oh, a number of other people."
Our hostess was visibly impressed.
"Why! you really have been very gay, haven't you, dear!" she exclaimed.
When we got into our cab to go home Maria turned to my husband and said:
"I had my eye on you all the time I was talking, Will Taft. I was perfectly certain that your terrible sense of fact would overcome you and that you would blurt out that I dined with all those people on the same evening at the same dinner party!"
President Harrison, in March, 1892, appointed my husband on the Federal Circuit Bench, so once more I saw him a colleague of men almost twice his age and, feared, fixed in a groove for the rest, of his life. However, he was greatly pleased and very proud to hold such a dignified and responsible position at the age of thirty-four. I think he enjoyed the work of the following eight years more than any he has ever undertaken.
We moved back to Cincinnati. Mr. Taft's circuit included parts of Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Michigan—reached in fact, from Lookout Mountain to Marquette, and he was much away from home. My own life during those years in Cincinnati was very busy, for, in addition to my occupation with family and friends, I became interested in a number of civic movements.
My principal work was the organisation and management of the Cincinnati Orchestra Association. I found, at last, a practical method for expressing and making use of my love and knowledge of music.
We had not had a good symphony orchestra in the city since Theodore Thomas left, but with our music-loving population it was only necessary that somebody should take the initiative and arouse definite enthusiasm and keep it going, in order to establish and maintain such an institution. There were many public-spirited citizens, some of them true music-loving Germans, and I saw no reason why I should not get strong popular support for my project. I was not disappointed. From the first the response was general and generous and we did not have much difficulty in raising the necessary funds for financing the orchestra, although in addition to our box-office receipts, we had to secure $30,000 a year for six consecutive years. It could not have been done had it not been for such liberal friends as my brother and sister, Mr. and Mrs. Charles P. Taft, Mr. Charles Krippendorf, Mr. M. E. Ingalls, Mr. and Mrs. L. A. Ault, Mrs. Charles Fleishmann, Mr. J. G. Schmidlapp and others.
For the first year we had three different directors, Mr. Seidl, Mr. Schradick and Mr. Van der Stücken, who came to Cincinnati and led two concerts each. Then we secured Mr. Van der Stücken as a permanent leader and he remained with the orchestra ten years.
I think I regretted the Cincinnati Orchestra Association more than anything else when we left for the Philippines, but I left it in good and well-trained hands. Mrs. C. R. Holmes, who succeeded me as President of the Association, had taken a great part in the original work of organisation and management, as had my sister-in-law, Mrs. Charles P. Taft, and others. Through their efforts the orchestra has been enlarged and improved and it is still a source of great pride and satisfaction to the city of Cincinnati. Mrs. Charles Taft is now the President and through her interest, activity and generosity it has been enabled to grow in ex- cellence.
Except for the orchestra, our life was tranquil; quite too settled, I thought, and filled with the usual homely incidents connected with housekeeping and the entertaining develop- ment of small children. My youngest child, Charles, was born in 1897, and my family was thus complete.
I come now to the years which we gave to the Philippine Islands and I must say that I wonder yet how our lot hap- pened to be so cast.
There had never been any unusual interest in our family as to the results of the Spanish-American War. Like most patriotic Americans we had been greatly excited while the war was in progress and had discussed its every phase and event with a warmth of approval, or disapproval, as the case might be, but it did not touch us directly, except as citizens, any more than it touched the vast majority of the people of the United States. And yet, it came to mean more to us personally, than any other event in our times. The whole course of my husband's career was destined to be changed and influenced by its results.
Mr. Taft was strongly opposed to taking the Philippines. He was not an anti-imperialist in the sense that he believed the Constitution required us to keep the boundaries of the United States within their continental limits, but he thought the Antipodes rather a far stretch for the controlling hand, and he thought the taking of the Philippines would only add to our problems and responsibilities without increasing, in any way, the effectiveness and usefulness of our government.
Oddly enough, he had expressed himself to that effect when he happened, during the Spanish War, to be dining with a number of judges including Justice Harlan who, although later an anti-imperialist, was at that time strongly upholding the policy of taking over Spanish territory in both oceans.
Mr. Taft knew just about as much about the Filipino people as the average American knew in those days. What he definitely knew was that they had been for more than three centuries under Spanish dominion and that they now wanted political independence. He was heartily in favour of giving it to them.
It was one day in January, 1900, that he came home greatly excited and placed before me a telegram.
"What do you suppose that means?" said he.
"I would like to see you in Washington on important business within the next few days. On Thursday, if possible," it read. And it was signed—William McKinley.
We didn't know and we couldn't think what possible business the President could have with him. I began to conjure up visions of Supreme Court appointments; though I knew well enough that Supreme Court appointments were not tendered in that fashion and besides there was no vacancy. Mr. Taft lost no time in responding to the President's summons as I awaited his return with as much patience as I could muster. In three days he came home with an expression so grave that I thought he must be facing impeachment. But when he broke his news to me it gave me nothing but pleasure.
"The President wants me to go to the Philippine Islands," he said, in a tone he might have used in saying: "The President wants me to go out and jump off the court house dome." "Want to go?" he added.
"Yes, of course," I answered without a moment's hesitation. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I knew instantly that I didn't want to miss a big and novel experience. I have never shrunk before any obstacles when I had an opportunity to see a new country and I must say I have never regretted any adventure.
"The President and Mr. Root want to establish a civil government in the Philippines," said Mr. Taft, "and they want me to go out at the head of a commission to do it." It was only after I had accepted the invitation to go ten thousand miles away that I asked for an explanation.
In answer to the President's proposal, Mr. Taft said that he didn't approve of the acquisition of the Philippines in the first place, and that in the second place he knew nothing about colonial government and had had really no experience in executive work of any kind. But Mr. McKinley did not accept these objections as final. He called in Mr. Root, who was then Secretary of War, and who would be Mr. Taft's chief in the proposed mission to the Philippines, and together they presented the case so strongly that my husband could not help but waver in his decision. Neither Mr. McKinley nor Mr. Root had rejoiced in the taking over of the Philippines for that matter, but that was beside the question; the Philippines were taken, and it behoved the United States to govern them until such times as their people had learned the difficult art of governing themselves.
Mr. Root said:
"The work to be done in the Philippines is as great as the work Livingston had to do in Louisiana. It is an opportunity for you to do your country a great service and achieve for yourself a reputation for the finest kind of constructive work. You have had a very fortunate career. While you are only slightly over forty you have had eight years on the Federal Bench, three years on the State Bench and two years as Solicitor General. These places you have filled well, but they have been places which involved no sacrifice on your part. Here is a field which calls for risk and sacrifice. Your country is confronted with one of the greatest problems in its history, and you, Judge Taft, are asked to take immediate charge of the solution of that problem 7,000 miles away from home. You are at the parting of the ways. Will you take the easier course, the way of least resistance, with the thought that you had an opportunity to serve your country and declined it because of its possible sacrifice, or will you take the more courageous course and, risking much, achieve much? This work in the Philippines will give you an invaluable experience in building up a government and in the study of laws needed to govern a people, and such experience cannot but make you a broader, better judge should you be called upon again to serve your country in that capacity."
My husband promised to consult with me and with his brother Charles and give his answer in a few days. He didn't know whether or not I would be willing to go, but that was a question soon settled.
His resignation of his judgeship was the greatest difficulty. The President told him he did not think it would be at all necessary for him to resign since the work in the Philippines would take only about six months—nine months at the longest—and that he could absent himself from his duties for that length of time, and for such a purpose, without fear of any kind of unfortunate consequences. Mr. Taft's investigation and study of the situation immediately convinced him that Mr. McKinley was wrong in his expectation that the work could be done so quickly. Nor did Mr. Root have any such idea. Even with the meagre information which was then available, my husband at once saw that it would be years before the Philippine problem would begin to solve itself. So he resigned from the Bench; the hardest thing he ever did.
After sending in his acceptance he went immediately to Washington to discuss with Mr. McKinley and Mr. Root the whole situation and, especially, the names of four other men who were to be chosen to serve with him on the Commission. He had met Mr. Worcester, a member of the first Commission, and had got from him a great deal of valuable data. If Professor Shurman, the chairman of the first Commission, had become a member of the second, he probably would have been at its head, but he did not, and this position fell to Mr. Taft. He was thereafter known as President of the Commission, until civil government was organised in the Philippines and be became governor.
After he had gone to Washington I began at once to make hasty, and I may say, happy preparations for my adventure into a new sphere. That it was alluring to me I did not deny to anybody. I had no premonition as to what it would lead to; I did not see beyond the present attraction of a new and wholly unexplored field of work which would involve travel in far away and very interesting countries. I read with engrossing interest everything I could find on the subject of the Philippines, but a delightful vagueness with regard to them, a vagueness which was general in the United States at that time, and has not, even yet, been entirely dispelled, continued in my mind. There were few books to be found, and those I did find were not specially illuminating.
I gave up my house in Cincinnati and stored my belongings, packing for shipment to the Orient only such things as I thought would be absolutely necessary. We were to leave almost immediately and I had very little time in which to do a great many things. Mr. Taft came back to Cincinnati for a short period and we entered upon a busy season of good-bye hospitality. Everybody we knew, and we knew nearly everybody, wanted to give us a farewell dinner or entertainment of some sort. Mr. Taft, especially, was fêted in a way which proved to him how much more widely he was valued in his native town than he had ever realised. In the opinions of people then we were going, sure enough, to the ends of the earth, and many of our friends were as mournful about it as if they had private foreknowledge that it was to be a fatal adventure.
When the banquets and dinners and luncheons and receptions and teas had all been given; when the speeches had all been made, and the good-byes had all been said, Mr. Taft hastened off to Washington once more to meet his colleagues and make final arrangements, and I was not to see him again until we met in San Francisco a week before the date set for sailing.
I asked my sister Maria to go with me for the first year, and she accepted with delight. So, one morning in early April, with our world waving at us from the platform of the station, we started south to join the Southern Pacific railroad at New Orleans and to make our way from there to Los Angeles and so to San Francisco.
I had with me my three children, Robert, Helen and Charlie. Robert was ten years old, Helen eight, while Charlie, my baby, was just a little over two. It did not occur to me that it was a task to take them on such a long journey, or that they would be exposed to any danger through the experience. They were normal, healthy and very self-reliant little people and I made preparations for their going with_-_photograph_-_page_36.jpg)
CHARLIE TAFT WHEN HE WENT TO THE PHILIPPINES
"Madam, I understand you are going to the Philippine Islands. Now I want to know if you are going to take that great, big, beautiful boy out to that pest-ridden hole and expose him to certain destruction."
I grabbed my great, big, beautiful boy and rushed off to my room, and it was a relief eventually to learn that the awful Philippine climate, at least so far as children were concerned, existed, largely, in people's minds.
We found intense interest in our mission in California and San Francisco. If there were any anti-imperialists there, they successfully concealed themselves. The East was uncomfortably crowded with them in those days, but the evident interest and profit that the West coast would derive from a large Philippine trade may have been responsible for the favourable attitude of the Californians. However, we must not impeach their patriotism, and we ought to attribute some of their enthusiasm in reference to the Philippines, and our assuming control over them, to the natural enterprise of a people who had themselves gone so far in a land of development and hope.
Everything that could be done to make smooth the path of the new Commission was done. At their own request the powers of the Commissioners were carefully defined so that complications with the military government then in force in the islands, might be avoided. They were given equal rank with ministers plenipotentiary in the matter of naval courtesies and precedence; and Mr. Root drafted a letter of instructions, which the President signed, outlining their duties in such precise and correct detail that it was afterward adopted and ratified in its entirety in the act of Congress by which the Philippine government was established.
So—I believed we were going to have "smooth sailing" in every sense, when we started on the long voyage with which began this interesting experience.