The Titanic Plan (26 page)

Belle squeezed Archie’s hand. “Not now. It wouldn’t be wise.”

“
Call me when it is wise. I don’t play around either.” Archie released Belle’s hand and stood up. “Goodnight, Miss Greene, and thank you for a stimulating evening.”

CHAPTER 29

T
heodore Roosevelt’s house in Oyster Bay overlooked a long sloping lawn that rolled into a forest of pine and maple trees. Its large, rustic rooms were crowded with heavy furniture and filled with rugs, books, paintings, trophies, flags, rifles, animal skins, western sculpture and assorted bric-a-brac. The home had always overflowed with Roosevelt’s hardy vigor. In the spring of 1911 it felt like a mausoleum. The ex-President spent most of his time alone in his study, wavering between messianic visions of a triumphant return to power to moods of dark despair where he felt like a Cassandra in an American desert. As Taft once observed, Roosevelt needed a good fight to shake him up.

Having good luck on his side for most of his life, luck found Theodore Roosevelt when he was at his lowest point. It came in the form of Congressional investigations launched by Democrats to discredit Republicans. A Kentucky Congressman named Augustus O. Stanley initiated a high profile investigation charging that the
TC&I
deal that was engineered by J. Pierpont Morgan to ostensibly end the Panic of 1907, was really a slick business maneuver that allowed Morgan’s
U.S. Steel
to gain control of the
Tennessee Coal and Iron Company
for pure financial gain. The congressman asserted that Roosevelt was bamboozled by robber barons.

Roosevelt was indignant at the allegation. He contended it was more important to retain the stability of the markets than to stop what may or may not have been a shady merger. Roosevelt’s indignation turned to white fury when it was leaked that the Stanley Committee would subpoena the ex-President to publicly prove he was played the fool by Morgan. The great warrior finally had his fight. Roosevelt started calling old friends and rallying new ones to his cause. He began making speeches and writing opinion articles for newspapers and magazines. With his renewed energy and high profile, it was being whispered that Theodore Roosevelt was chomping at the bit to make one last charge to the Presidency.

* * *

In Washington, the White House was excited about one thing and one thing only: the cherry trees were blossoming. Mrs. Taft had new Japanese cherry trees planted the year before in the Capitol’s Tidal Basin and suddenly they were bursting out in bloom. The swaths of pink-tinged blossoms enthralled the entire city. “Even the President waked from his lethargy to show pleasure in them,” Archie wrote. Other than that brief moment of colorful brilliance, the mood in the Capitol was dark gray. Taft’s political fortunes were going from bad to worse. He appeared paralyzed as the world was disintegrating around him, and distressed by the rumblings that Roosevelt was preparing to make a run for the Republican nomination in 1912.

With the pressures of his office closing in, Taft distracted himself by planning a grand party: the June celebration of his Silver Wedding anniversary to his beloved Nellie. It was to be the largest celebration to take place in the White House since Rutherford Hayes’s Silver anniversary party in 1877. Over eight thousand invitations were sent out. Six thousand people responded that they would attend.

* * *

J. Pierpont Morgan traveled overseas in the spring of 1911. He spent the first leg of his trip sailing up the Egyptian Nile. From there he went to Europe to acquire paintings and medieval tapestries. His only bit of business was with J. Bruce Ismay, who was the managing director of
International Mercantile Marine (IMM)
and chairman of the
White Star Line
, companies Morgan owned and personally controlled, even in his retirement.

Despite Morgan’s apparent hesitancy to commit to Astor and Vanderbilt’s plan, it was always Morgan’s belief that those who controlled commerce, controlled business. His rambling speculation to Astor and Vanderbilt about commerce centers was not as spontaneous as it seemed. Controlling trade was always central to Morgan’s philosophy of how to build a complete business empire. He held a majority interest in several railroad firms and, in 1901, Morgan’s company purchased
International Mercantile Marine. IMM
was an English corporation that owned ships that crisscrossed the Atlantic carrying goods and passengers between Europe and America.

While the purchase made sense for Morgan’s vision of controlling Atlantic shipping lanes, cutthroat competition made
IMM
a continual money drain. Its
White Star Line
was always on the short end of a rivalry with the other English passenger line,
Cunard
. Despite
White Star’s
large money losses, Morgan was determined to make the company profitable. When
Cunard
received a low-interest loan from the British government to build sleek new luxury liners, Morgan approved an accelerated effort for
White Star
to build their own state-of-the-art luxury fleet.

On May 31, 1911, Morgan and Ismay met in Belfast, Ireland, and took part in grand ceremonies that celebrated the launching of the hull of their second new luxury liner. Thousands of people gathered at the Harland and Wolff shipbuilding docks to witness the spectacle. It was a glorious spring day. There were fireworks, music, and then the launch into the water of the massive hull. Morgan vowed to return and sail on that ship’s maiden voyage, which was scheduled for the spring of 1912. As a marketing ploy, all
White Star
ships were to be “Olympic Class Liners” and end with –ic. Thus, the
Olympic
, the
Majestic
, and in the case of the new ship, the
Titanic
.

CHAPTER 30

W
hen Archie arrived at his office precisely at 6:50 a.m. every morning, the President’s schedule was always waiting for him on his desk. On June 1, 1911, the schedule had Archie escorting Taft on a morning ride. Archie changed into his riding pants and boots then walked from his office, across the green expanse of the Ellipse, to the White House. The President was still in the breakfast room when he arrived.

“
Good morning, Mr. President,” Archie chirped.

“
Archie,” Taft said lethargically. “Why do you have to be so goddam chipper every morning?”

“
Because it is a time of endless possibilities, sir. One of which is clearing our minds with a nice ride.”

“
I’m not sure I’m up for a ride today,” groaned Taft, who seemed even more listless than usual.

“
It’s a beautiful spring day, sir. I think a good gallop will do us some good.”

“
Tell you what, Archie. You take a ride for us both then report the details back to me. Perhaps I can vicariously share the therapeutic value.”

“
But sir…”

“
That’s an order from your Commander-in-chief,” Taft said, smiling for the first time that day.

The White House stables were located on the west lawn. It was once the hub of the entire White House complex, buzzing with the activity of coachmen, stable hands and grooms. In 1891 there were stalls for 25 horses, a carriage house, tack and harness rooms and a living area for the stable help. When Archie stepped into the stables on that June morning, only six horses remained along with two rarely used carriages. The handsome Victorian building was Archie’s favorite place in the White House. As a horseman, the smell of hay and horseshit were as sweet as the scent of any rose. He had to walk past Taft’s new passions – four gleaming steam powered automobiles – to get to his stallion, General Lee. The General was muscular and tall, sixteen hands high, with a chocolate brown coat highlighted by a perfect white diamond pattern that sat squarely on his forehead. He neighed at the sight of Archie, knowing he would soon get to run.

“
It’s only us today, boy.” Archie said, coming into the stall and patting the General on his rump. “Could be fun, huh? Stretch ourselves a bit.” Archie slipped the horse an apple then saddled him up.

Washington D.C. was still honeycombed with riding trails in 1911. During the Roosevelt years, the President and his entourage could be seen almost daily, galloping exuberantly around the capitol. When Archie joined the White House staff, the rides became even more energetic and competitive. Archie and Roosevelt would race through Washington, both hooting and hollering like teenaged boys on a carefree adventure. Archie would usually let Roosevelt reach the White House grounds first, giving the President a victory.

Riding with Taft was more often an easy saunter. Archie would lead through the gentler trails around Washington while the President talked politics and problems rather than indulging in a vigorous ride. Archie believed the way the two Presidents rode was the way they governed.

Without Taft, Archie crossed the Potomac and headed toward the woodlands on the far side of the river. While the dark clouds of a storm could be seen in the distance, it was perfect weather where Archie was riding. He took a deep breath and drew in the dry, woodsy smell of the trail. At that moment, Archie thought of his mother. It had been over a year and a half since she died, but somehow the dusty scent of this horse trail snapped her to life in his mind. He could see her clearly – her silky, ivory hair; her translucent skin that blushed ever so slightly at the cheekbones; and those eyes, those green eyes that seemed inlaid over pearl. A rush of deep love flooded through him. But his mind was too restless to stay in that pool of contentment. As his mother’s green eyes floated before him, another face appeared and took the place of his mother’s. It was the first time he realized that his mother shared the same exotic eyes of jade green with Belle da Costa Greene. Archie’s body stiffened with the unsettled feeling that always occurred around Belle.

“
Major,” a voice floated from behind. He absently turned and saw a man astride an enormous horse some twenty lengths down the trail. The man was backlit by the sun, blurred in the brightness. Archie’s senses came rushing back to the present. He eyed the silhouette. It appeared as a hulking frame, slightly hunched in a posture that was sloth-like and menacing. Though he couldn’t make out the man’s features in the harsh glare, Archie caught the outline of his face – and his ears: distinctive, protruding ears that stuck out like jug handles.

“
I have something for you,” the man called. An instinctive dread shuddered through Archie. He cracked his riding whip, snapping it on the General’s right haunch. The horse bolted. Archie arched forward, his hands slid along the leather reins to find a steady grip. The General charged up a small hill. Archie looked back to see the man snapping the reins and setting his giant horse into a furious gallop.

The trail hugged the fast moving waters of the Potomac on one side and the lush Virginia woods on the other. No place to get away. Archie smacked the General on his rump again and tried to put some space between the two. It wasn’t working. The horse that carried his pursuer was a monster, stretching out with enormous strides, chewing up ground between them.

“
Come on, General!” Archie yelled, urging his horse on. He looked back to see the man gain with every stride. Archie was shocked. It seemed his horse was standing still. The General could sense it too; there had never been a horse that could keep up, much less overtake him.

The hoof beats behind Archie slammed down and seemed to shake the ground. Archie knew it would be only moments before he was caught. He certainly couldn’t escape into the Potomac. Perhaps the woods? But there was only dense shrubbery and a thicket of trees. The colossal horse pounded its way beside the General.

“
Major, pull your horse up. Now!” the man demanded.

Instead, Archie lashed out with his riding whip, catching the large man across the face. Blood trickled along the man’s cheek. Archie smacked the General one more time, exhorting him to pull away. And the horse did, pounding forward at Archie’s urging.