Grandmère

by David B. Roosevelt

  Cousin Alice never met her grandmother, but remembered stories about her being told by her grandfather Theodore Sr. and her father, Theodore:

  My grandfather Roosevelt’s marriage to my Southern grandmother introduced some new blood, and the subsequent conflicts between the Dutch, New England, and “Georgia cracker” sides of our personalities have been rewarding.

  … From her pictures, and from what little I learned from Auntie Bye, she was extremely beautiful, with great charm of manner when she wanted to exercise it. She also seems to have been moody, temperamental, and, like most hypochondriacs, she enjoyed poor health. One heard stories of her covered with veils and dust coat venturing forth in the summer heat and with cuffs of brown paper to prevent even the slightest speck of dust besmirching her…. I know very little about her except one of her Bulloch ancestors was the first president of the Provincial Congress of Georgia.7

  Of all the examples provided by Grandmère’s forebears in establishing her own life philosophy, perhaps the one most apparent is provided by her grandfather Theodore in a letter to his daughter Corinne: “Remember that almost everyone will be kind to you and love you if you are willing to receive their love and are unselfish. This, you know, is the virtue that I put above all others and, while it increases so much the enjoyment of those about you, it adds infinitely to your own pleasure.” Theodore had a strong sense of personal obligation to society, one passed along to his children and grandchildren alike, and this sense of obligation was perhaps most pronounced throughout the life of his granddaughter Eleanor.

  All four children of Mittie and Theodore were quite remarkable in their own right, the most notable of course being TR Jr. Anna, the eldest daughter, assumed from a young age a controlling role in the family, encouraging the boys’ lives and ambitions, and once they were all grown up became a font of wisdom for both TR and Elliott, and later for their daughters Alice and Eleanor, who called her Auntie Bye. In recognition of Bye’s influence in their lives and in those of other family members, both women would later agree that had Bye been a man, she would have been president, not TR. Eleanor said of both her aunts, Auntie Bye and Auntie Corinne, that they were “two women never to be forgotten, whose influence will live as long as any of us who knew them can transmit to later generations a quality which we hope will long be preserved in our family.”8

  But it was my great-grandfather Elliott, Grandmère’s father, who was often described as the most lovable of all the Roosevelts. When writing about her father almost forty years after his death, Grandmère stated that her father had been “the one great love of my life as a child; and in fact like many children I have lived a dream life with him; so his memory is still a vivid, living thing to me.”9

  The Roosevelt children were all schooled at home, as was the custom in such families of position, and when Elliott was nine Theodore took the entire family on a twelve-month grand tour of Europe, followed the next year by an even more extended journey to Egypt, then regarded as part of the Ottoman Empire, the Holy Land, and south-eastern and central Europe. Such extended travels were not uncommon among the wealthy of the time, but were seen as a natural extension of the children’s education. Indeed, they opened the young Roosevelt children to a world of culture, the arts, and languages, and created in my great-grandfather a fascination with foreign cultures, a fascination that was unquestionably inherited by his daughter.

  I should interject here that throughout her life Grandmère traveled extensively the world over and, in her later years, whenever possible, she would include one or more of her grandchildren on these trips. These were exciting opportunities for my generation, since we not only experienced first-hand many exotic places but were often in the company of some of the world’s foremost leaders.

  My great grandfather, Elliott Roosevelt, with his dogs.

  Everywhere she went, Grandmère was not only immediately recognized but also usually treated with great deference and respect. While she might have desired a bit less notoriety on her travels, we of course thought the attention accorded was tremendous! My sister, Chandler, remembers that Grandmère would be regularly stopped by everyday people on the street who would talk to her as if she were a friend who would understand their problems:

  My cousin Nina Roosevelt with Abba Schwartz when they accompanied Grandmère on her trip to Israel in March 1959.

  I remember on (a) trip and in New York City also the many people who would stop her in stores and on the street and tell her of some personal problem… She would devote her complete attention to them and ask that they please write her and that she would do what she could. She had just an amazing interest in other people, particularly in difficulties they might have. But abroad people would come up to her. I didn’t have the feeling at all during the war that other people were grateful for the part our country had played in the war, but all through Europe I remember people coming up and saying, “You don’t know what your husband meant to us.”10

  In 1959 my cousin Nina, my uncle John’s eldest daughter, accompanied Grandmère on a trip to Israel and Iran, and she remembers it as a tremendous educational experience for a girl in her teenage years:

  … she seemed to really enjoy sharing things with me in a teacher kind of relationship, particularly on our trip to the Middle East. She would ask questions of other people (to) which I knew very well she knew the answers, but she wanted it said for my benefit, which is a perfect teacher kind of way of doing things because you don’t tell your pupil everything. Then she would share feelings about things with me… She would point things out for me to look at. I’m sure she knew how valuable reading aloud is for one’s education. Of course, at the time I didn’t know; I thought she was doing it just to amuse us, and she certainly did. When I got older I realized it does wonders for your attention span… For instance, on the Fourth of July she would read the Declaration of Independence. She would often send clippings that were particularly appropriate for something. If you were talking to her about something, she would then suggest a book to read. She had me read Exodus before I went to Israel… So there was definitely the teacher about her, which was fun.11

  But back to my great-grandfather. It was in 1873, upon returning from one of the grand tours, while TR Jr. was preparing for his entrance into Harvard, that Elliott began to suffer severe headaches and dizzy spells. He had wanted to go to school at St. Paul’s, an exclusive New England preparatory school, but his father, concerned over Elliott’s health, sent the young man abroad and then to the South for two months in the hopes that the outdoor life would strengthen his constitution. Although homesick, Elliott’s health did improve, and upon his return he entered St. Paul’s in September of 1875. Soon, however, the pressure of school and studies affected his health, and in a letter to his father, whom he called Private, he reported recurring bouts of headaches and nosebleeds… early signs of an affliction that would forever mar his life.

  Private

  Yesterday during my Latin lesson without the slightest warning I had a bad rush of blood to my head, it hurt me so that I can’t remember what happened. I believe I screamed out, anyway the Doctor brought me over to his house and I lay down for a couple of hours; it had by that time recovered and after laying down all afternoon I was able to go on with my afternoon studies… It had left me rather nervous and therefore homesick and unhappy. But I am all well so don’t worry about me. I took some anti-nervous medicine, and I would like the receipt of more…

  P.S. Don’t forget me please and write often. Love from Ellie12

  Doctors could not seem to agree on the nature of Elliott’s seizures, and because his father believed that the best cure was to lead a physically active and Spartan lifestyle, the sixteen-year-old was packed off to Fort McKavett, the well-known frontier outpost in Texas that was home to the famous all-black “Buffalo Soldiers” cavalry troop. Here he learned to shoot, ride, and camp and was generally enthralled by legends from the Mexican War days and stories of Indian skirmishes. The rugged life s
uited young Elliott, who would develop a love of horses and riding and later become an accomplished polo player, sailor, and adventurer. But soon after his return to New York, Theodore Sr. fell gravely ill with what was later diagnosed as colon cancer. His youngest son displayed a supreme devotion to his father and tended to him every day until his eventual death on February 10, 1878, at the young age of forty-six.

  The death of a father is a devastating tragedy for any child, but for young Elliott, so sensitive and dependent upon his father’s towering strength, love, and support, this loss further ruptured his already weakened sense of direction and inner stability. Realizing that his elder brother, Teddy, would soon graduate from Harvard and return home to assume the reins as head of the family, and in part as a drastic measure to curb his own rapidly addictive drinking habit, my great-grandfather decided to undertake an expedition to India, that magic land of mystery, to hunt tigers from astride an elephant and pursue the elusive ibex and the markhor, the fabled animals living in the Himalayan region.

  India during the time of the British Raj was a country full of fascinations and contradictions for a young American adventurer. Elliott puzzled mightily over some aspects of British rule of this enchanted land, and yet not so much that it hindered his ability to enjoy English pastimes in the leisurely afternoons of the Orient, playing tennis and polo, hunting, and encountering for the first time knowledge of an ancient culture so alien to his own. It was while he was away on this adventure that his brother, Theodore Jr., secured election as an assemblyman from the Brownstone District of New York City and wrote his first book, The Naval War of 1812. When Elliott returned from India he was expected to find a direction for his life and to begin work in one of Manhattan’s business institutions, to settle down and put aside his penchant to roam the world on endless adventures. And soon a very special person would enter his life, someone both he and his entire family hoped would help him find contentment even as she might provide the mainstay for the fulfillment of his destiny.

  My great grandfather Elliott, the first seated on the left, with his riding club in 1885.

  Elliott and Anna

  My grandmother remembers her mother as the most beautiful woman she ever saw. (It was said of Anna’s beauty that the poet Robert Browning once asked only to gaze upon my great-grandmother as she sat for a portrait.) Anna Rebecca Hall, the eldest of four of the day’s most stunning debutantes, was descended from two of New York’s most eminent and aristocratic families, the Livingstons and Ludlows, whose Tivoli estate on the banks of the Hudson River had been originally deeded to them by Charles II, James II, and George I. Anna’s imperious mother, Elizabeth Livingston Ludlow, married Valentine G. Hall, a member of one of the wealthiest mercantile families in the nation. My great-grandmother’s childhood can only be described as gothic, austere, and solemn. While her mother could be considered cold and aloof, her father was a fanatically religious despot who ruled the family with an irascible temper and an absolute iron fist. Tyrannical as he may have been, however, he had trained his eldest daughter well, for upon her father’s death when she was seventeen, Anna, and not her mother, assumed full responsibility for the family’s well-being.

  My great-grandmother Anna Rebecca Hall. Center: Her father Valentine G. Hall. Right: Her mother Elizabeth Livingston Ludlow.

  Cameo portraits of the four beautiful Hall sisters. Anna Rebecca is on the left of the first photograph.

  Grandmère would recall that although her parents’ families shared the noble privileges of their class, their moral goals were drastically different:

  My father, Elliott Roosevelt, charming and good-looking, loved by all who came in contact with him, had a background and upbringing which were alien to my mother’s pattern… I doubt that the background of their respective lives could have been more different. His family was not so much concerned with Society (spelled with a big S) as with people, and these people included the newsboys from the streets of New York and the cripples whom Dr. Schaefer, one of the most noted early orthopedic surgeons, was trying to cure.13

  Indeed, since the death of Theodore Sr., his four children had upheld the social values, bringing credit to him and the family name and partly responsible for earning them all a reputation as “do-gooders,” a characteristic that although foreign to Anna seemed to make Elliott all the more attractive to her.

  Since my great-grandparents were members of a gracious and elegant society that resembled a small social island, and whose members were in one way or another connected to either the Roosevelts or the Halls, it was almost assured that at some point they would connect. The tall, handsome Elliott was a frequent houseguest at Springwood (the James Roosevelt estate at Hyde Park) and Algonac (the Delano estate), and it was one of these visits that he met the beautiful nineteen-year-old Anna Rebecca. Immediately smitten, he described her as “a tall slender fair-haired little beauty—just out and a great belle.” Soon thereafter, at a Memorial Day house party given by Laura Delano, sister of Mrs. James Roosevelt (FDR’s mother, Sara), the couple became engaged to much outpouring of excitement and affection.

  The Hall family playing tennis in 1890. Socially prominent, the Hall sisters were trained in all the fashionable sports of their time.

  The New York Herald described their wedding ceremony at Calvary Church on December 1, 1892, as “one of the most brilliant social events of the season… The bride was every bit a queen and her bridesmaids were worthy of her.” Being ever practical, if not impetuous, rather than diamonds as a wedding present my great-grandfather gave his new bride a small coupe automobile, something she could drive around town from social engagement to engagement. Since women driving cars was viewed as a novelty to say the least, Anna’s adventuresome nature most surely endeared her even further to Elliott and his family. Following their wedding, the young couple quickly settled into the life of New York society, a life the newspapers called “the swells.” A bit reluctantly perhaps (for it was difficult giving up the life of a bon vivant), my great-grandfather secured work with the Ludlow firm, New York’s premier real estate establishment, conveniently owned by his wife’s relatives. His young bridge likewise settled right in, ordering her fashions from Palmers in London and Worth in Paris. When she would lunch at a club, it immediately became the fashionable place for social gatherings. Indeed, their life became a whirlwind of parties and late-night cotillions, the opera, and a multitude of grand rituals on the seasonal New York social scene. And, of course, attendance at the polo matches and horse races at Meadowbrook on Long Island, Bar Harbor, and Newport were an integral part of their life. Anna’s striking beauty made her an absolute trophy for any man, and Elliott’s ability to entertain with tales of his varied adventures made the young couple much sought after. As one friend said of Elliott, “If personal popularity could have bestowed public honors on any man, there was nothing beyond the reach of Elliott Roosevelt.”

  Portrait of my great grandmother Anna at the time she met my great-grandfather. Below: Elliott and Anna Roosevelt in St. Moritz, Switzerland, during their honeymoon.

  In early 1884 Anna became pregnant with Eleanor, and frail of health she took to bed for much of the summer. Her pregnancy was cause for concern and anxiety throughout the family, for Theodore Jr.’s wife, Alice Lee, had died just two days following the birth of baby Alice. Finally, after months of close attention, Eleanor was born on October 11, 1884, without complications and to everyone’s great relief. No one in the family was more moved or elated by Eleanor’s birth than was her father. As she would write many years later, she had been to her father “… a miracle from heaven.”14

  Grandmère as a very young girl.

  With her father Elliott and her brother Elliott, Jr.

  As I look back, I think probably the factor which influenced me most in my early years was an avid desire, even before I was aware of what I was doing, to experience all I could as deeply as I could.

  Eleanor’s Childhood

  Certain moments of childhood lod
ge in one’s memory, sometimes for incongruous reasons, perhaps their beauty or drama, and their continued influence upon our lives is as persistent as it is unaccountable. For Eleanor, her relationship with her mother was a sum of many such moments, remembered with a certain grief for all of her years. It established a basis, I think, for that driving desire she carried throughout life to help and please others.

  Rather than a joyous occasion, Anna’s pregnancy was marred by fear, anxiety, and depression. The postpartum death of Theodore Roosevelt’s wife, Alice Lee, certainly wasn’t reassuring for a nervous first-time young mother like Anna. Alice Lee had contracted nephritis (Bright’s disease), which had gone unnoticed during her pregnancy but ended her life on February 12, 1884. To compound the family’s loss, Elliott and Theodore’s mother, Martha Bulloch Roosevelt, suddenly died of typhoid fever only hours after Alice Lee. Both deaths were an abysmal blow to the family, plunging both Theodore and Elliott into deep grief. These were the distressing conditions in which Anna began her first term of pregnancy.