Captains and The Kings (79 page)

never revealed any religious interest, any speculative doubts or thoughts. Yet, this was his Missal, wrapped years ago for Joseph. Was it a warning? If so, why? He was suddenly desperately tired. The years do tell, he thought, as the lawyers consoled the bereaved. Charles was to remain for several days in Philadelphia and consult with Harry's possible successor. Joseph was to go to New York. Then, suddenly, he thought of Elizabeth, and longed for her with a starved longing. He returned to Green Hills alone, on the fastest train which roared majestically through the night. Then he felt the pain of his loss, the crouching, waiting pain. Even Kevin's death had not seared him like this, nor the loss of Sean and Regina, nor the destruction of his daughter. For Harry had been more than children, brother and sister. He had been the major part of Joseph's life, and possibly the most eager and full-bodied ;» part, and the youngest. Joseph, through all those years, had doubted everyone else, all he had loved. But he had never doubted Harry. Now Harry had died for his loyalty, and a love Joseph had never suspected. Exhausted by his pain he leaned his head against the window and he dreamed he was in that hot and dusty Washington room of so long ago, burning the papers which concerned Senator Bassett. He heard the senator speaking, but did not see him. "Too late," said the senator. "Too late." A week later, when Charles was on the way home from Philadelphia his train was derailed and partially wrecked. Three men died in it. Charles was one of them. "Christ, Christ," said Joseph, when he received the telegram from Philadelphia. He went upstairs to his study and stayed there three days and nights and did not come out. He never answered the door. lie never touched the trays which were left at it. Whether he slept or not, no one knew. No one ever knew that for the second time in his life he got drunk.
Chapter 48
Joseph was having a long talk with the governor, who was afraid of him but who was not pleased by the conversation. "Rory-and you know how fond of Rory I am, Joe, and know all about his excellent mind and endowments-hasn't exactly distinguished himself in his two congressional terms in Washington. Nothing too bad was ever said about him. He was never really controversial. But nothing positively good was said about him, either. He seemed to think being a congressman was a lark, a continuing social event, something with which a rich man and a rich man's son amuses himself. Galas, parties, garden affairs." Then the governor frowned. "He did vote against a Federal income tax, but that didn't make him more popular. It was said in a lot of newspapers that he had done this for 'selfish' reasons, and that he didn't want his own fortune taxed."
"It is a strange thing," said Joseph, whose thick hair was almost white now, with only here and there a streak of russet. "Mankind is the most selfish species this world has ever spewed up from hell, and it demands, constantly, that neighbors and politicians be 'unselfish' and allow themselves to be plundered-for its benefit. Nobody howls more against 'public selfishness/ or even private selfishness, as much as a miser, just as whores are the strongest supporters of public morality, and robbers of the people extol philanthropy. I've lived a long time, but my fellowman baffles me more and more, which no doubt is naive of me." It didn't hinder you from plundering him, though, thought the governor, unkindly. But the governor owed his office to Joseph Armagh and his money. "And he voted against the Amendment to permit direct election of senators, instead of appointment by the State Legislature. In fact, he delivered a speech, if I remember-notable for surprising eloquence and emotion-that that would be 'redundant,' and that two bodies of government were unnecessary, directly elected. If I remember, he said the Senate served the same purpose as the House of Lords, in England, to control the 'enthusiasm, sketchy consideration, superficial judgments and public exigency' of congressmen, who were directly elected by the people, and 'so subject to the greeds, vagaries, romances, and ignorant pressures of the mobs, under fear of defeat in the next elections. We must have a calm, unpressured, moderate, controlled and judicious body in the government,' he said, 'just as the Founding Fathers had decreed, to control the unseemly, hysterical and uneducated passions of the masses.' That did not endear him to many in Washington, or even in this state. He is now known as the 'Monarchist.'"
"Rory puts a lot of faith in the legislature of the state, though it, too, was elected," said Joseph, with not the slightest smile. But the governor laughed nastily and shook his head. "At any rate he was acclaimed as a 'Constitutionalist,' and many of the people are ardent Constitutionalists, so I don't think Rory is too unpopular." Joseph thought of his angry conversations with Rory over these very matters, and his visits to Washington to influence his son. Rory, as always, was smiling and affable, though his lower eyelids relaxed innocently. "Pa," he had said, "I know what the decent electorate wants, in spite of the howling mobs of the Tuileries; pardon me, of New York and Philadelphia and Boston and Chicago, and such. If I am to have any political future at all I will have to rely on the honest men of America." "Don't be a damned fool," Joseph had said. Then he had studied Rory. "Now, no joking, Rory, any longer. You and I know that honest men in any country are very rare. And they are totally impotent. You can't turn back the clock to McKinley's era, Rory. The vast mass of the American people want a Federal income tax, to take revenge on those they call 'the powers that be,' that is, the intelligent who have made money one way or another. If they don't believe, as you have told them, that that tax, will eventually loot them and will be used to enslave them, rob them, and employed to promote wars for empire and tyranny, are they worth fighting for? No. Let them wallow in their own enslavement later, and die in < wars. It is all they deserve." j "At least you're frank, Pa," said Rory. "Coming down to it, you always were. I inherited that from you." "But I don't tell it to the imbecile public," said Joseph, and tried not to smile. "They want to believe in fantasies. Let them. Such fantasies are '» profitable-to us. That was a silly move you made when you quoted Lord V Acton: 'The power to tax is the power to destroy.' Did that make ' i the people think? On the contrary. They shouted that you wanted to be a I 'privileged lord.' Like Lord Acton! That's how the public reasons. I once privately objected when Vanderbilt said, 'The public be damned.' But ( what else does it deserve?" Rory did not answer, but he thought: Pa, it may surprise you. I happenI to love my country, naive though she is, ignorant though she is, gut engrossed though she is, emotional and childish though she will forever be, and thoughtless and rampagious. She still is better than any other country, though some other countries may boast of a more intelligent electorate. But what did that famous intelligent electorate bring other countries, except oppression, the establishment of a vicious 'Elite,' and wars, constant wars? Intelligent electorates are no guarantee against Empire-in fact, they promote it-nor violence, nor tyranny, nor disorder and anarchy. They are usually against all that establishes law and order, tolerance, justice, liberty. It threatens the "Elite's" mania for power. Pa, you shouldn't have let me see the deadly men of Zurich-and other places. Rory had long known that his father was "fey," like all the Irish, and as he was himself, and so he was not too surprised when his father said very quietly, "Rory?" Joseph had stood up then and had said, "Nothing in life brings much lasting pleasure, Rory. But power brings the most. It has an element of revenge in it." Rory had never really pitied his powerful father before but all at once he pitied him so profoundly that he was shaken. He promised himself then that he would do as much as he could to please his father-but not overtly. Their quarrels would be private. Joseph said to the governor, "Let us not be diverted. I want my son appointed as senator by the State Legislature. You knew that in the beginning." "But Joe, you were the most instrumental in the appointment of Lloyd Summers, for that post. You put a lot of pressure on our Party. This will be only his second term. You arranged it. Now you want him scuttled." "Yes. I have nothing against Lloyd. A post in the state government? Yes, you can arrange that easily. But I want my son to be senator. It is that simple. He will be thirty in March. This is February. You have plenty of time, after March, when he will reach the Constitutional age." "What the hell am I going to tell Lloyd?" asked the governor. "Now, Jim. You know damned well that politicians don't have to worry over lies. They are born gifted with them." It had not been very hard at all. Shortly after his thirtieth birthday Rory was delegated as the next appointee of his Party, by the State Legislature, to the august body of the Senate in Washington. His appointment was duly confirmed. Senator Rory Daniel Armagh moved to a finer and more luxurious, if more "refined," house in Georgetown. His wife, elated, said to him, "Rory, if you hadn't been married to me no one would have known about you at all!" Her father was no longer Ambassador to the Court of St. James's. He held a very lucrative and gaudy Cabinet post under President Theodore Roosevelt. The post did not demand much of him. But his parties were famous, and so were his women. He confessed that though he had enjoyed the pomp and circumstance of Empire in London, he was devoted to "democracy." He became a member of the Committee for Foreign Studies, in New York, and of the Scardo Society. "All in all," said Mr. Jay Regan, the New York financier, "I think, therefore, that we are well satisfied with President Roosevelt. We had some doubt of him at first, but after I had had a few conversations with him, Joseph, I found him an eminently reasonable man. I think our support of him was justified. "Dear old Teddy," said Joseph, and Mr. Regan laughed. "Are you still bothered about his inroads into South America? Well, wasn't it planned that way? His very outrageous attacks on President Cipriano Castro of Venezuela-his language-inspired the native belligerence of Americans. 'Unspeakably villainous little monkey.' Ah, yes. 'I will show these Dagos that they will have to behave decently.' Indeed. That was truly inspiring-to the American masses. They like strong noisy men, though some of them do call such men 'Caesars.' Lovingly. But, doesn't everyone love Caesar? Yes." "They also like thieves, big thieves," said Joseph. Mr. Regan continued to smile but his eyes fixed themselves on the other man. This Armagh frequently gave the impression, through his tongue, that he was "unreliable," and so he was not completely trusted. He also had a way of baiting his associates, and for this reason alone his son, Rory, was not as yet taken into what was ambiguously called "the Circle." The senator showed every symptom of being tractable and helpful, but there were some in the Committee for Foreign Studies who declared that he appeared to be making "mental notes" which might be "dangerous." Mr. Rockefeller, fof in' stance, had openly declared that he was wary of the young man. "I have a feeling," said Joseph to Mr. Regan, "that we are not inspiring love for the United States in South America. Roosevelt's seizure of Santo Domingo in 1904, for an alleged foreign debt of nineteen million dollars- ; which was not owed to America, not one penny-is not going to do us much good in the future. 'Roosevelt Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine,', indeed. It seems to me that I missed something in our last few meetings, , or perhaps I wasn't told, Jay. I have often suspected, lately, that I am not invited to all the meetings." . "Now, now," said Mr. Regan. "Of course you are. But there are things of dull routine-" "And didn't Teddy just jump for joy when Japan attacked Russia?" said Joseph. "What did he say? 'I was thoroughly well pleased with the Japanese victory, for Japan is playing out game.' I missed that, didn't I? Yes, I know. He finally, recently, intervened and demanded that the two nations make peace. I hear he is going to get the Nobel Peace Prize almost immediately. Who arranged that?" "I am sure I don't know," said Mr. Regan, lighting a cigar. "We have no influence over that." "Hah," said Joseph. "Each of us in the Society owns a senator, who works for our interests," said Mr. Regan. "But who does Rory work for?" "Me," said Joseph. "Now, now, Joe," said Mr. Regan. "I doubt he even works for you. This is the end of his first term, and no doubt he will be reappointed by the State Legislature. Yet, what has he done of value?" "He has acquired a reputation for honesty, which even hostile newspapers can't deny." "Very astute of him. But honesty doesn't serve our private interests, does it? I think there is nothing more valuable for a senator or any other politician to acquire as a reputation for honor and honest)'-for public consumption. That can be done easily, with the help of a few newspapers and a little money and bought critics and lesser politicians, and large donations to the Party. But it is quite another thing when a senator takes himself so seriously that he ignores or refuses to serve-" "His real masters," said Joseph. Mr. Regan smiled. "Now, only a fool believes that the electorate is master over its politicians. 'Serving the people,' Joe-" "I know," said Joseph. "An old nun I knew when I was a young boy used to say 'but that doesn't buy any potatoes,' though I don't think she meant it in this context. Still, it's valid." "Moreover," said Mr. Regan, nodding, "the people are most ungrateful. A politician, as we know, who serves the people, really serves them out of conviction and idealism, is eventually despised by them as a naive imbecile. But a scoundrel of color, who can invent a few deadly aphorisms of his own, and can laugh and twinkle and joke, gets their adoration, and even if he is later exposed for what he is-a thief, a time-server, a liar-the public becomes hysterical at the 'attacks' on him. In fact, the public will attack the outraged attackers of their darling. But, Joe, you know all this. You've been in this business almost as long as I have. See here, Joe, I'm Irish, like you, though Protestant. We have what my Granny used to call 'a sharp tongue on him, an Irish tongue.' More Irishmen have been hanged by their tongues than by ropes. We can't resist being sarcastic or ironic, at the very worst times." "In short, you are warning me, Jay." Mr. Regan, large and fat and rubicund-some said he resembled Mr. Taft-slowly lit one of his enormous cigars, and seemed to be ruminating. Then he said, "No, Joe. I'm just advising you. You want Rory to be the first Catholic President of what Bryan calls 'the Yew-nited States of Ammurrica.' We all know that. You must smooth down your spikes. We, 'the Circle,' know that you aren't devious nor overtly subtle, and that when you saj' something-shall we call it disturbing?-you mean it, and never regret its edge. So, you have a reputation for not being 'quite the gentleman.' In other words, you are not suave and urbane and serpentine, and you have a way of openly jeering at the delicate euphemisms of 'the Circle,' and laugh at its-you call it pretensions?-of 'ultimately serving humanity.' Yes. There is not a murderer who does not feel that he has served some purpose in murdering, nor a thief who does not think he is justified, nor a general who ever deplored a war. Men, even like our colleagues-and we know what they are-desire to be thought political philanthropists, of enormous intellect and understanding, with nothing but peace and harmony and enlightened government as their objectives. I don't care how intelligent a man is, or a country, they love to believe that his, and its, infamies, are committed in the name of a larger benefit to humanity.\ Aristophanes never wrote so broad a comedy, and I am constantly amused." He looked at Joseph who had been listening with a dark expression. y ; "What I am getting at, Joe, is that if you wish Rory to be President you will have to curb your tongue and serve us all, as we serve you, with your whole heart, and stop being sardonic. I confess that I often have your own thoughts but I am wise enough not to utter them. What good does it do, anyway? Does it advance your interests? No. It only heightens mistrust." "I've served them damned well," said Joseph., "Yes, and it sticks in your craw, and it's visible." Joseph stood up and began to pace up and down the enormous paneled. and carpeted office of Mr. Regan, in New York. He said, "Wasn't it Sophocles who said that when a vast force or power enters into the affairs of men, open or secret, it brings with it a curse?" "We've been in business a long time, Joe, our fathers and grandfathersi before us, and our sons will take our place. We have what the Romans I called 'gravitas.' If you think that our growing and tremendous power is a 'curse,' then I cannot agree with you, for I, too, believe that humanity j cannot bear what it calls 'democracy' but must have despotism. It is the '\ Irishman in you which despises any sort of despotism, and you must hold your tongue." . He became annoyed. "Joe, you were to be subpoenaed to Washington\ to answer charges that you are a 'trust.' We helped you to evade that, as we I have helped others to evade it. You show no gratitude." When Joseph did not reply Mr. Regan said, "You have objected; occasionally to our promotion of revolutions throughout the world. Yet you know that revolutions increase the power of the State, and larger revolutions make the State absolute. That is our objective throughout the world. In many ways we are indeed philanthropists. We will remove the uneasy and unstable and hysterical power of the electorate-and it doesn't want the power anyway-and give it a firm, kind, benign government, which, to the relief of humanity, will remove the necessity for judgment, thought-particularly thought-and responsibility. Come on, Joe. You know all this. I am speaking to you as a friend now and not merely as a colleague." But Joseph had been thinking of something else. He said, "Is it true that Roosevelt will not seek the nomination in 1908? He keeps on insisting on that." "He has served his purpose," said Mr. Regan. "A little persuasion- The trouble with Mr. Roosevelt, Joe, is that he began to take himself seriously and to forget who really put him into power. His attack on 'trusts' came too close to the bone in the case of Morgan, Rockefeller, Depew, Mellon, Armour, and you, too. And I. You cannot trust a politician. Build him up, against all his inclinations, as a Benefactor of Humanity, a Warrior for Freedom, and he will eventually believe he is such, and act accordingly. He is working to make William Howard Tail President. Tail is not our man, but he is amiable and trustful and pedestrian." "He will never know who pulls the strings," said Joseph. "We can spare him that, at least." "Joe, it is that sort of remark which antagonizes people. I have warned you before, as a friend. If your plans for Rory are not to collapse, and perhaps you with them, and Rory also, learn a