Springwood
Hyde Park, New York, USA
October 1916
Assistant Secretary of the Navy Franklin D. Roosevelt had been somewhat perturbed by the tenor of his cousin’s message. Although they were distant cousins, Franklin always affectionately called him “Uncle Teddy.” During the phone call that he had received several days before, the former president seemed very subdued and almost secretive in his request to come up to Hyde Park for a private meeting. He specifically requested that this be a private meeting between the two of them. Because Franklin’s family currently resided in Washington, that wouldn’t be a problem. Still, this mysterious behaviour seemed so unlike his perpetually exuberant cousin.
Theodore Roosevelt arrived at Springwood, the Hyde Park estate, exactly on time and Franklin greeted him at the main drive in front of the mansion as the motorcar pulled away. “So nice to see you, Uncle Teddy,” exclaimed the younger man as they shook hands. “Please, come on in. As you wished, none of the family is here.” The elder Roosevelt’s appearance alarmed Franklin. Uncle Teddy looked tired, and his complexion sallow. He had lost weight and just didn’t appear to be the vigorous man that he once was. Everyone knew that he had never really seemed the same after his South American expedition that followed the 1912 campaign.
As they entered the sitting room, Franklin complimented him on a recent article he had published in National Geographic magazine. To Franklin, Theodore looked as if he had aged considerably over the past one to two years. As they sat down, one of the servants brought a tray of sandwiches and iced tea. Franklin thanked him and instructed him to close the doors behind him when he left and not to disturb them.
“So Uncle Teddy, what is this mystery meeting about?” asked Franklin enthusiastically.
“It’s about this,” replied the former president as he reached into his leather document bag and removed a cable that he had received three days prior from London. Handing it to his young cousin, he requested, “Please read this, Franklin, and then we can discuss it.” The young man adjusted his pince-nez glasses and began to read. As he read, his cousin sat there, admiring him. Here he is, thirty-four years old, handsome, athletic, and already an Assistant Secretary of the Navy, thought the older man to himself. His potential is limitless. He is also a savvy politician. It must run in the Roosevelt bloodline. Oh, to be that young again! The elder Roosevelt admitted to himself what he sensed his young cousin could already see. He was no longer a vibrant or well man.
Franklin looked up at his cousin when he finished. He already had a bad feeling about what they were about to discuss. “Uncle Ted, what does this mean? Who is this Double Eagle who has now suddenly resurfaced? Why was this cable sent to you?”
“You can see that the cable envelope is addressed to ‘Former President Theodore Roosevelt: FOR YOUR EYES ONLY,’” offered the older man. “It was sent to me by Sir Mansfield Cumming, the head of the British Secret Service. I am the only person in the United States who knows of this. Double Eagle was an American agent, a young naval officer that I authorized to go on a mission with the British back in 1905.” He detailed the entire affair, from the preparations for the Portsmouth Peace Conference and the visit from Sergei Witte, through the dispatching of Stephen Morrison on his volunteer mission. Franklin listened to every detail, transfixed by the story.
“So you actually authorized a mission to kidnap a foreign head of state?” questioned Franklin.
“Franklin, Witte convinced both the British and me that the Tsar would never agree to a peace treaty. We made the choice we thought was right at the time. Considering the outcome, I’ve regretted the decision ever since, and I’ve lived with the guilt of having sent that young man to Russia. We had heard that he was caught and by all accounts he never revealed his identity nor the fact that he was an American agent on a government assignment. He never broke. We learned that he was hanged in St. Petersburg in October 1905. Now, like a ghost out of the past, I find out that he is alive and in Petrograd. The information given to Cumming was supplied by a British agent in Petrograd. In essence, they are asking my advice on how to proceed.
“Did this Morrison have any family? What were they told?”
“He was recently wed when he left on the mission. A cover story was generated that he was killed in England in some industrial shipboard type accident. He was buried with full military honors at Arlington National Cemetery. I attended the funeral, you know. His father-in-law was a close acquaintance. He was my Secretary of Commerce, the first Jew to ever serve in a cabinet position.”
“Morrison is a Jew?
“Yes, he was the adopted son of Congressman Caleb Morrison of New York. His real father was a rabbi in New York.”
Franklin took a sip of iced tea and started to eat his sandwich. “Please, Uncle Teddy, have a bite to eat.” As the older man began to eat his meal, Franklin became lost in thought. Finally, he said, “So the British are in essence asking you what to do with him now that he’s resurfaced. Good God, how can the man come back to the United States, given his mission and the fact that he’s been legally dead and buried for eleven years? What a conundrum! What are you going to tell Cumming?”
The elder man put his plate on the side table next to him and stood up. Placing his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth as he began to speak. “You can see from the cable, Franklin, the British think he’d be an ideal agent to penetrate the Bolsheviks and get close to this Lenin character, something they have been unable to do. You, of course, realize that if these revolutionaries come to power and destabilize the government, they will pull Russia out of the war and sign a separate peace treaty with the Germans. That would be absolutely disastrous!”
“You have a point. Someone who would spy on the Bolsheviks and report back on their plans would be very valuable indeed. If we can counter their moves with prior knowledge of their intentions, we just may be able to keep Russia in the war.”
The former president stopped pacing and sighed. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been thinking. You know, Franklin, the reason I’m here and telling you all of this is because I want to turn this affair over to you. The truth is that I’ve been wracked with guilt over this Morrison fellow for over a decade, and now I’m in somewhat failing health. I seriously doubt that I can handle this situation anymore. You tell me, Franklin, what should be done in this case? My mind tells me to recommend one thing, but my heart tells me otherwise. I can no longer be objective about this or to be honest, think about it without guilt.”
The young man folded his arms and stared ahead. “Hmmm,” he began and scratched his head. “A most difficult dilemma. It seems that we have an agent in place that could really help the war effort. In addition, the man is believed to be dead already. There doesn’t appear to be much of a down side to the British request that he work as an inside agent.”
“Hasn’t he done enough already? Isn’t a decade in prison enough? I tell you, every time I think of his imprisonment, my heart gets sadder.”
“I’d say let him work with the British and spy on Lenin and the other revolutionaries. As soon as we can be assured that Russia will remain in the war, we can extract him and bring him home, if it is at all feasible. I’m not sure how we’ll do it. Maybe we’ll give him a new identity. But we will certainly try to bring him home. We owe him that much.”
Theodore Roosevelt sat back down. Quietly, he said to his cousin, “Thank you.” He picked up the cable again and said, “That is what my instinct tells me is the right course of action. I suppose I can respond to Cumming — ”
“No, Uncle Teddy, I’ll take it from here. I’ll respond and be the only American at this point who knows of the plan. Let’s see,” he said as he took the cable and re-read it. “It looks like Morrison has a few requests before he would begin working for the British. Hmmm, what about his wife? What has become of her?”
“There’s a complication here. Let me fill you in on it.”
“Right. Don’t worry, sir, as we say in the navy, I’ve got the conn.”
For the rest of the visit, they exchanged pleasantries and some good-natured kidding over the fact that Franklin was a Democrat. As they walked the grounds of Springwood, the athletic young man with a spring in his step couldn’t help but notice how easily the former president became winded, even after a short walk. He’s definitely failing, Franklin thought to himself. So sad to see a man who was once so vigorous now in the autumn of his life.
As the afternoon drew to a close, Theodore Roosevelt’s car arrived to take him to New York City. They wished each other well, and Theodore told him how proud he was of him and his niece Eleanor. They shook hands firmly as they always did, and then the older man surprised Franklin by giving him a bear hug and holding him for a few seconds. “Thank you, Franklin,” he whispered into his ear. The older man got into his car, and it began to drive off. As Franklin waved to him, he hoped his cousin would take it easy. He had a terrible feeling that his Uncle Teddy was worse off physically than even he admitted.
Sitting in the back seat of his motorcar, Theodore Roosevelt laid his head back and closed his eyes. Yes, he thought, Franklin is a decisive, action-oriented leader. He is an adept politician. His potential is limitless.