Mark Twain and the Colonel: Samuel L. Clemens, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Arrival of a New Century

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Overview

For most of a decade Mark Twain lived in Europe, returning at last to America and a joyous welcome on an October night in 1900. Ten years later, in the spring of 1910, he returned once more, only days before his death, carried down the gangway as reporters on the New York piers waited, yet again, to welcome him home a final time.

In those two decades—last of the nineteenth and first of the twentieth—our modern nation was formed. Men whose names have become legendary—Rockefeller,...

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Mark Twain and the Colonel: Samuel L. Clemens, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Arrival of a New Century

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Overview

For most of a decade Mark Twain lived in Europe, returning at last to America and a joyous welcome on an October night in 1900. Ten years later, in the spring of 1910, he returned once more, only days before his death, carried down the gangway as reporters on the New York piers waited, yet again, to welcome him home a final time.

In those two decades—last of the nineteenth and first of the twentieth—our modern nation was formed. Men whose names have become legendary—Rockefeller, Carnegie, Edison, Wright, Ford—exemplified the great changes taking place in America at the time. But only one name rivaled Mark Twain’s in the love of his countrymen. Theodore Roosevelt dominated the politics of the era just as the author of Huckleberry Finn dominated its culture. The celebrities were well acquainted, and in public neither spoke ill of the other. But Roosevelt once commented in private that he would like to skin Mark Twain alive, and the humorist recorded his own opinion (although not for public consumption until later) that Roosevelt was “far and away the worst President we have ever had.”

Philip McFarland’s Mark Twain and the Colonel describes the prickly relationship between these beloved figures by focusing on two tumultuous decades of abiding relevance, decades to which no Americans were more responsive than Colonel Roosevelt of San Juan Hill and the humorist Mark Twain.

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Editorial Reviews

Jerome Loving
A magnificent storyteller, Philip McFarland has told the story of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century America through the intertwined lives of two of its most memorable and colorful figures: Mark Twain and Theodore Roosevelt. Impeccably researched, beautifully written, Mark Twain and the Colonel will delight anyone interested in American history, literature, or culture.
Justin Kaplan
Philip McFarland’s new book, the latest in his distinguished series of American biographies and histories, fuses two vivid stories set around the first decade of the twentieth century. One touches on the astonishing career of President Theodore Roosevelt, an eastern patrician sometimes derided as a “cowboy” and saber-rattler. He speeded the emergence of modern America from a frontier nation to a world power with far-flung interests. The second of McFarland’s stories follows the comparably astonishing career of the democrat and westerner Mark Twain, who came east from the closing western frontier and became famous as author, humorist, and universal sage. More than a century later, these two flamboyant personalities, each a distinctly native production and neither at a loss for words on every issue of their time, continue to occupy a formative place in the American style and imagination.
Justin Kaplan
Philip McFarland’s new book, the latest in his distinguished series of American biographies and histories, fuses two vivid stories set around the first decade of the twentieth century. One touches on the astonishing career of President Theodore Roosevelt, an eastern patrician sometimes derided as a “cowboy” and saber-rattler. He speeded the emergence of modern America from a frontier nation to a world power with far-flung interests. The second of McFarland’s stories follows the comparably astonishing career of the democrat and westerner Mark Twain, who came east from the closing western frontier and became famous as author, humorist, and universal sage. More than a century later, these two flamboyant personalities, each a distinctly native production and neither at a loss for words on every issue of their time, continue to occupy a formative place in the American style and imagination.
Publishers Weekly
Though America's most famous satirist and the 26th president seldom came into direct contact, here McFarland (Loves of Harriet Beecher Stowe) presents the duo as dynamic foils, indicative of the social and political growing pains of the country. Differences in background and beliefs abounded: Roosevelt was an expansionist; Twain was a staunch anti-imperialist. The politician "spurned idleness, to an extent that amazed those who knew him;" the humorist embraced "the gypsy-like leaving behind of responsibilities." Perhaps most telling of their disparate social roles is their handling of racial issues-while Twain grew vocally outraged at "The United States of Lyncherdom," Roosevelt fretted about losing the Southern vote. McFarland doesn't shy away from the complex notions each man had of the other-Twain called Roosevelt "one of the most likeable men that I am acquainted with," and also "far and away the worst president we have ever had." In addition to being a compelling duel biography, McFarland makes full use of Twain and Roosevelt's specific moment in time, using their opinions, vitriol, and praises to explore varying sides of issues that belabored the United States at the turn of the 20th century. Photos.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Wall Street Journal
Philip McFarland delivers hundreds of pages of solid anecdotes with quotes and details of life at the turn of the century....By the final page, the reader will know a lot about Twain as writer and man and much about Roosevelt's key policies, and will have toured a vanished America. One of his subjects wanted life to be "strenuous" and "dutiful"; the other wanted to mock those exhortations and light up another stogie and rack up some more billiard balls.
New York Post
The interplay between the two gargantuan lives leads biographer Philip McFarland to some fascinating trivia and unexpected role-reversals.
The Birmingham News
In Mark Twain and the Colonel, Philip McFarland tells the story of the rich years of American history between 1890 and 1910 through the fully engaged involvement of two of its most vital participants.
ForeWord Reviews
No two men captured the zeitgeist of Gilded Age America more than Mark Twain, the cultural icon, and Theodore Roosevelt, the political one, claims the author in this dual biography and narrative history of 1890-1910....McFarland, the author of two novels and five nonfiction works, offers here a captivating investigation of the similarities and differences between Twain and Roosevelt presented against a backdrop of politics, imperialism, commercialism, and racism of these decades....General readers already familiar with Twain and Roosevelt or those who know little about either man will be fascinated by this illuminating, comparative biography/history that displays their significance to this tumultuous era.
The Washington Times
Philip McFarland's book "Mark Twain and the Colonel" is a hybrid biography of two of the most colorful figures of their era and a fascinating look at America at the beginning of the 20th century....Readers of Mr. McFarland's very well-written book, filled with wonderful anecdotes, can judge for themselves who is the better man.
CHOICE
Independent historian McFarland (The Brave Bostonians: Hutchinson, Quincy, Franklin, and the Coming of the American Revolution, CH, Oct'98, 36-1163) has pieced together the lives of two 19th- and early-20th-century icons, both of whom contributed greatly but differently to the nation's history. Most are aware of Roosevelt's accomplishments in the Spanish-American War, how he came to the presidency upon the assassination of William McKinley in the fall of 1901, and his subsequent accomplishments during his administration. McFarland describes Roosevelt as a man whose "name [is] shining among the brightest in our presidential firmament." Not all would agree. To the author's credit, however, he adorns Roosevelt with virtues (progressivism) and flaws (racism and imperialism). Clemens, the satirist and novelist, did not take to politicians. He was critical of Roosevelt's quest for empire. As McFarland suggests, Clemens, as a product of pastoral America, found it difficult to accept imperialism and industrialism and what both portended for the nation's future. In short, this book contributes to two different perspectives of the Gilded and Progressive eras. Summing Up: Recommended. All levels/libraries.
Kirkus Reviews
What did two of the most famous Americans of the early 20th century have in common? In this interesting if overlong dual biography of President Theodore Roosevelt (1858–1919) and Mark Twain (1835–1910), McFarland (Loves of Harriet Beecher Stowe, 2007, etc.) seems bent on challenging the conventional wisdom as to which of these two Gilded Age giants had the better progressive credentials. In one corner stands Roosevelt, the war hero and manly man who busted the Standard Oil monopoly, protected national lands, and worked to improve labor conditions. He was also a defiant imperialist who thought it was the duty of America to spread civilization to backward, pagan countries, whether they wanted it or not. In the other corner stands the genius writer and humorist Twain, who helped expose the moral evil of slavery and thought the United States had no business helping "liberate" the Philippines from Spain. He was also a wealthy venture capitalist whose best friends were oil barons and thought government had no business telling John Rockefeller what to do. Roosevelt and Twain were alike in many ways: voluminous writers, beloved celebrities, wealthy men who enjoyed great success and suffered terrible personal tragedy and who opposed slavery but not white supremacy. McFarland's story is both personal and political, focusing on the lives and philosophies of both subjects. Though his thematic, nonchronological approach highlights differences, it also leads to a lot of repetition of facts, quotes and stories. The still-relevant contrast between these two American powerhouses is well told. Both men were consumed by domestic and international problems that continue to reverberate.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781442212275
  • Publisher: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.
  • Publication date: 1/16/2014
  • Pages: 520
  • Sales rank: 431,056
  • Product dimensions: 9.40 (w) x 11.50 (h) x 4.10 (d)

Meet the Author

Philip McFarland is the author of five earlier works of nonfiction: Sojourners, Sea Dangers: The Affair of the Somers, The Brave Bostonians: Hutchinson, Quincy, Franklin, and the Coming of the American Revolution, Hawthorne in Concord, and Loves of Harriet Beecher Stowe. He has also published two works of fiction.
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Read an Excerpt

Mark Twain and the Colonel

Samuel L. Clemens, Theodore Roosevelt, and the Arrival of a New Century
By Philip McFarland

Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4422-1226-8


Chapter One

Return to America

Open to page 3 of the New York Times for October 16, 1900. Along the right-hand margin are advertisements for carpets, eyeglasses, whiskey, silvercraft, and Steinway pianos. The column at the far left, beginning at the top, furnishes a lengthy account of Governor Roosevelt's activities yesterday in Covington, Kentucky. Equally prominent on the page, four columns in, is a report on the arrival, at the downtown piers during that same lively long-vanished yesterday, of a newsworthy passenger aboard the Atlantic Transport Line's S.S. Minnehaha. "MARK TWAIN HOME AGAIN," the headline blares. "Writer Reaches America After His Prolonged Stay Abroad. GREETED BY MANY FRIENDS. Talks Freely of His Travels, His Experiences, and His Triumphs—In the Best of Health."

Yesterday, at ten in the evening and after nearly a decade away, America's favorite humorist had been kept busy at the Manhattan docks in the course of a jubilant homecoming: wife and daughters accompanying him; all those welcoming friends to greet; trunks and hampers to lay claim to. "Mr. Clemens"—the private name of a world-famous public pseudonym, the census-taker's name that signed Mark Twain's checks and booked his hotel rooms—"Mr. Clemens never looked better," readers of the article were assured, "was in a splendid humor, and greeted his friends with the most affectionate cordiality." Yet the Times makes clear it was not Samuel Langhorne Clemens whom the throng had gathered to welcome, but rather "the writer and lecturer, Mark Twain, who attracted to the pier so many friends and associates of former days."

He was sixty-four years old on that autumnal Tuesday, just weeks short of turning sixty-five. The bulk of his last nine years Samuel Clemens—Mark Twain—had spent in self-imposed exile, for the most part in Europe. Now here he was, home to stay, finally, joyfully, exchanging salutations with friends and well-wishers while some dozen newspapermen hovered nearby. As soon as the traveler turned their way, the reporters pressed him to tell them what he had been up to over so extended an absence from his native land.

"Now, that's a long story," the notable answered obligingly in his characteristic Missouri drawl, "but I suppose I must give you something, even if it is in a condensed form."

Of course he would give them something. Clemens had been a newspaperman himself, had started out as a journeyman printer, years before had written for newspapers in various parts of the country and even—briefly—co-owned a newspaper, in Buffalo. To this day, besides contributing to magazines, he often as Mark Twain sent to the papers opinions that were widely quoted. Moreover, in a long, varied, and colorful career, he had granted hundreds of interviews like this one, always taking care to promote a distinctive, much-loved public image of the Mark Twain that Samuel L. Clemens had created thirty-seven years before.

He was promoting Mark Twain now, in 1900. The homecomer had left America, he reminded the pier-side reporters, in June of 1891 and gone to Aix-les-Bains, France. The reason—although he didn't tell them this—had been in large part because of health, so that he and Mrs. Clemens might benefit from France's therapeutic baths. The family had meant to remain overseas only a few months, while Mark Twain wrote six extended travel letters to pay for the excursion; but circumstances prolonged their stay. Soon they realized how much cheaper it was to live well in Europe than in America, and the Clemenses had need of economizing. Thus, nine years passed before their permanent return home, by which time this interviewee on the New York piers had accumulated a lengthy catalogue to recount to the clustering journalists, of places where the family had stayed during the long interval. After a fall and winter in Aix-les-Bains, for instance—their first stop abroad—they had moved to Berlin, so that Mark Twain could lecture and give readings, then on to the Riviera over three months, then to baths near Frankfurt, then—through most of 1892—in Florence, renting a villa while the author wrote his Joan of Arc and the novel Pudd'nhead Wilson. "For the next two years I was in France," he continued more or less accurately, taking care to reassure his listeners that "I can't speak French yet." Clemens could read the language, though, with ease, as he read Italian and read and spoke German, although his alter-ego, Mark Twain—thoroughly American; a folksy, down-home provincial, long on common sense if short on schooling—neglected to reveal those cosmopolitan skills to the reporters gathered round. He did tell them that in the spring of 1895 (something the whole world knew already) he had started on a lecture tour from England that circled the globe, first across the northern United States, then to Australia and New Zealand, on to Ceylon and India, to South Africa, and finally back to England, where he lingered through another year abroad.

"At this time my family was with me...." But the summary left much out. In London, "I was lecturing, reading, or working hard in other ways, writing magazine stories and doing other literary work." And after London came Vienna, "to which city we went in September 1898."

Actually, it had been in 1897, the family having spent a couple of summer months just before then in Switzerland. But let Vienna serve as a specimen of the traveler's life overseas. Clemens remained in the capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire for nearly two years, arriving after those weeks in the village of Weggis, overlooking Lake Lucerne, and not leaving until twenty months later. Then—to conclude the itinerary—he and his wife and daughters spent additional time in England and in Sweden, again for reasons of health, before returning to England and at last, as of yesterday, in mid-October 1900, disembarking from the S.S. Minnehaha here in New York City.

But about the author's reception in Vienna. From Switzerland he had written ahead to the American Embassy there, an inquiry regarding available accommodations that let word of his intentions get out. Viennese newspapers, of which there were many—forty-five of them—seized on the news; and for a couple of weeks before the Clemenses arrived, the press of that city was writing in high excitement about unser berühmter Gast—our famous guest—coming to live among them. Why he was coming, he would tell reporters when he got there, was to observe and gather material for additional articles and stories—a motive flattering to his hosts, even if it fell wide of the real reason for his choice. Clemens was moving to Vienna so that his daughter Clara, approaching her mid-twenties, might pursue her study of music with the celebrated piano teacher Theodor Leschetitzky, tutor of Paderewski, in hopes of becoming a professional pianist herself.

Thus, soon after arriving, father and daughter called at the maestro's home—heryoungheartpounding—atKarlLudwigStrasse42,andtoClara's amazement were greeted by "an utterly unimpressive, harmless-looking man of small stature," under whose gaze she was soon "stumbling" (her word) through a piece on the piano, while gray-haired eminences—famous pianist and famous author—hovered and listened. The audition disclosed a need for more technical preparation before such a teacher as this could take the young woman on. A disappointed father wondered whether they should even remain in the city, but Herr Leschetitzky assured his visitors that doing so would prove amply worth their while.

Already the Clemenses had found a place to live. Or it found them: the Metropole, an imposing hotel in the center of Vienna, on Franz-Josefs-Kai overlooking the busy Danube canal—fashionable enough that the sister of Germany's Kaiser Wilhelm II was lodging there. So eager had the proprietor of the Metropole been to include Mark Twain among his patrons that for the famous American he reduced his regular rate by 40 percent; and on such attractive terms the Clemens family moved into Suite 62, on the third floor: seven spacious, high-ceilinged rooms and a balcony, with attendants, heat, and meals for five persons as part of the bargain price—meals prepared by the premier chef in the city. All that allowed for pampering enough to keep this visiting celebrity at the Metropole eight months (until he removed to an even grander hotel, its rates also discounted); and at the Metropole very soon, as daughter Clara later remembered, it "came to be a daily habit in the family to receive callers from five o'clock on, and our list of acquaintances augmented so rapidly, representing all circles, that our drawing-room was often called the second U. S. Embassy."

Living so long overseas and being so welcomed, Mark Twain had come to see himself as sort of a spokesman for his country: "During 8 years, now, I have filled the post—with some credit, I trust—of self-appointed Ambassador at Large of the U. S. of America—without salary." The author of "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," of The Innocents Abroad, of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, of The Prince and the Pauper—to name the favorites among his works in Europe—the wonderfully amusing author whose writings had been translated into all the major European languages and many less major ones was by this time immensely popular around the globe, a household name on the Continent wherever he settled down. In Berlin, for instance—that other German-speaking metropolis—where the Clemenses had lived earlier in the decade, a "great fuss was made over Father," Clara bore witness, "and Susy and I felt proud to be his daughters. In fact, with satisfied vanity we enjoyed watching people point out our family when we entered a dining-room." At the moment the young women might feign indifference to the attention, but it did lead them to reflect on how odd it must feel to be part of a family in which nobody was famous. As for Mark Twain, he appeared, Clara tells us, "unconscious of the sensation he always created when entering a dining-room or restaurant." Germans actually rose and stood close by to watch the luminary eat, any among them who knew English hoping no doubt to overhear his table talk. "Look at those people, Father! They are getting a fine view of your appetite." The leonine head—well-known shock of untamable gray hair, bushy gray eyebrows, bright eyes, gray drooping mustache—would chuckle then, though apparently unembarrassed at being so closely scrutinized. "And I often wondered," wrote Clara, recollecting, "how the news of his identity could possibly spread around so rapidly. It was also surprising that his popularity should be international. With the exception of France, he seemed equally famous in all countries."

As for France, Clemens cared less for Frenchmen than they for him—his one admitted prejudice: their lax morals; what they did to Joan of Arc; what they were doing to Zola and Captain Dreyfus. Here in Vienna meanwhile, as another example of the goodwill the American humorist inspired just about everywhere, he and his daughters on one occasion couldn't return to their hotel even though guests were awaiting them up there. Around an intervening public square spectators had gathered thick to view the passing of the emperor's cortège. Police were everywhere. The three Americans on foot did manage to press their way through the good-natured crowd; but at its inside edge, just before starting across, they were halted officiously. An armed guard commanded that they stay where they were—Halten Sie! Stehenbleiben!—while at the same moment a policeman on horseback came galloping forward, although "not with the purpose of driving us back, but of reproving the guard: 'For God's sake, let him pass! Don't you see it's Herr Mark Twain?'"

The humorist relished such prerogatives as this that his worldwide fame entitled him to. "My! But that makes me feel d—d good!" he confessed to his daughters as they crossed the emptied square together. Meanwhile his guests at the hotel would likely have been people who mattered in fin-de-siècle Vienna. Many such called on the Clemenses, in addition to an unending stream of reporters, editors, and curious fans of Mark Twain. In fact, the family came to know just about everybody of consequence in the city, fourth largest in Europe and home to individuals whose names retain meaning more than a century later: Gustav Mahler, Sigmund Freud, Ernst Mach, Arthur Schnitzler, Gustav Klimt, Johann Strauss the Waltz King. Clemens as Mark Twain was enjoying friendships among such company, as well as among others comparably celebrated then, before the passing decades dimmed their luster. The American family entertained many new acquaintances; and Mark Twain faithfully attended the all but perpetual round of soirées, balls, receptions, smokers, and dinners to which he was invited. "Dinner at the Embassy"—a single example, from February 1898—"Present, the German Ambassador; Marquis Hoyos; Nigra, Italian Minister; Paraty, Portuguese Minister; Löwenhaupt, Swedish Minister; Ghika, Roumanian Minister, Secretaries &c from the various Embassies—& ladies. 30 guests." No less a personage than the emperor himself, Franz-Josef I, a half century on the Austro-Hungarian throne and desirous of his acquaintance, received the droll visitor from abroad at an imperial audience—Mark Twain bedecked in striped trousers, swallow-tailed coat, silk hat, and white gloves—as the American democrat had earlier been invited to dine with Kaiser Wilhelm and spent a congenial hour with the Prince of Wales.

Moreover, his months in this colorful city—a city famously rife with the pleasures of parks and music and architecture—were proving productive. Here the author wrote "The Man That Corrupted Hadleyburg," much of the Socratic dialogue What Is Man? and The Mysterious Stranger, as well as some of the more movingly vivid reminiscences of his early days that appear in his autobiography and a good bit besides at a level of excellence rarely reached elsewhere in the course of his family's trying, sometimes horrendous years during these same 1890s. In fact, the time in Vienna constituted a last great outpouring in Mark Twain's long career as an author. Through the first decade of a new century that lay ahead he would continue to write, often prolifically, but only a little of it would achieve the quality of what he set down during his months in the Austrian capital.

At the end of the family's stay there, when it came time to leave, the Clemens daughters were reduced to tears. By then, Clara had abandoned her ambition to be a pianist and would turn instead toward a career as a concert singer. Nevertheless, she had learned in twenty months to love Vienna and the Viennese, so that her heart was grieving on the midmorning in late May 1899 when a van arrived to take away trunks that were being sent directly to London. At two that same afternoon cabs bore the Clemenses, their traveling luggage, and their maid of nineteen years, Katy Leary, to Franz-Josefs-Bahnhof. "Was life," Clara wondered, "to be one long series of farewells?" At the train station a multitude had gathered: the many friends of the daughters, friends of the family, the many grateful friends and admirers of Mark Twain. Well-wishers had already filled the Clemenses' compartment with flowers. To the assembled group the humorist spoke briefly, seriously. In fluent if Missouri-accented German, he addressed the crowd that pressed adoringly close: "Man kann nicht ein paar Jahre in Wien leben," he told them, "ohne durch und durch dem Zauber der Stadt und der Leute zu verfallen. Mann gewöhnt sich bald ein in Wien, ist hier zufrieden und geht nie mehr ganz weg." You can't live a couple of years in Vienna without thoroughly succumbing to the magic of the city and its people. One quickly grows comfortable in Vienna, feels contented here, and never entirely leaves it.

The train wheels began to turn. Handkerchiefs were waving from slow-moving windows as the cars gathered speed. The crowd on the platform receded, "our beloved friends," whose faces, at the commencement of yet another of so many journeys, the Clemenses blowing back kisses knew they were looking on for a last time.

They went to England, to Sweden, again to England, and, a year and a half after leaving Vienna, arrived finally in New York City. Thus ended Mark Twain's long absence from home. And "everybody's glad you're back," reporters greeting the Minnehaha on that mid-October evening in 1900 assured the traveler, "which you know of course," they added—for only the rare American newspaper had failed to take note of so signal and exultant a homecoming.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Mark Twain and the Colonel by Philip McFarland Copyright © 2012 by Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Part I: War
Chapter 1: Return to America
Chapter 2: Celebrity
Chapter 3: Vice-Presidential Candidate
Chapter 4: Warfare
Chapter 5: Imperialist America
Chapter 6: Anti-Imperialist
Chapter 7: Election Results
Chapter 8: The Strenuous Life
Part II: West
Chapter 9: Rural Upbringing
Chapter 10: Urban Upbringing
Chapter 11: Clemens Goes West
Chapter 12: Grand Tours
Chapter 13: Western Writings
Chapter 14: Continental America
Chapter 15: The Philippines
Chapter 16: Pan-American Exposition
Part III: Race
Chapter 17: Yale Bicentennial
Chapter 18: Racial America
Chapter 19: Back to Hannibal
Chapter 20: Roosevelt and Race
Chapter 21: Livy
Chapter 22: Huckleberry Finn
Chapter 23: Roosevelt and the Philippines
Chapter 24: Placating the South
Part IV: Oil
Chapter 25: The Kanawha
Chapter 26: Corporate America
Chapter 27: Roosevelt as Reformer
Chapter 28: The Gilded Age
Chapter 29: Bankruptcy
Chapter 30: In the White House
Chapter 31: Trustbusting
Chapter 32: Our Life Is Wrecked
Part V: Children
Chapter 33: A Seventieth Birthday
Chapter 34: Susy
Chapter 35: America at Home
Chapter 36: Bully Father
Chapter 37: President in His Own Right
Chapter 38: Global Visions
Chapter 39: Bereft and Adrift
Chapter 40: Young People
Part VI: Peace
Chapter 41:Carnegie
Chapter 42: America at Peace
Chapter 43: Late Pleasures
Chapter 44: TR Steps Down
Chapter 45: Jean
Chapter 46: Funerals
Chapter 47: Bull Moose
Chapter 48: Afterward
Chronology
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