William Howard Taft – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

A little history helps put the 2020 election in perspective

This $1000 1882 Gold Certificate, Fr. 1218f (PCGS Very Fine 35) – with a vignette of Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the Treasury – realized $293,750 at a January 2014 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

If our past is any guide to the future, I suspect that presidential politics will be a primary source of contention for several electoral cycles. The United States has produced some unusual presidential elections and the 2020 Biden vs. Trump race is not an isolated event that warrants exceptional anxiety.

A little history helps keep it in perspective.

During the 1787 Constitutional Convention, there was a long debate over the method for selecting a president. Among the proposals was whether the chief executive should be chosen by a direct popular election, by the Congress, by state legislators or intermediate electors. Direct election was rejected primarily because of a concern that common citizens would probably lack sufficient knowledge of the character or qualifications of candidates that would enable intelligent choices. Candidates would be spread throughout the 13 colonies and campaigning was not a viable option due to travel difficulties.

Letting Congress decide was quickly rejected since it would jeopardize the principle of executive independence. Similarly, allowing state legislatures to choose was turned down because the president might feel indebted to some states and allow them to encroach on federal authority.

Unable to agree, on Aug. 31, the Convention appointed a “Committee of Eleven” to resolve it. On Sept. 4, a compromise was agreed with each state appointing Presidential Electors, who would meet in their states and cast votes for two persons. The votes would be taken to Congress to be counted, with the candidate receiving a majority elected the presidential candidate and the second highest vice president. Since there was no distinction between which vote was specifically designed by position, the 12th Amendment was ratified 1804 to distinguish individual votes between the two offices.

Now the conventional election of president and vice president is an indirect election in which (only) citizens, who are registered to vote in Washington, D.C., or one of the 50 states, cast ballots for members of the Electoral College. Those electors cast the direct votes and it requires at least 270 electoral votes to win. In 1960, the 23rd Amendment granted D.C. citizens the same rights as the states to vote for electors, but they can NEVER have more votes than the least populous state. To date, they have never had more than three electors. Also, they do not have any rights to vote for senators or amendments to the Constitution.

For more than 200 years, Americans have been electing presidents using the Electoral College, but despite its durability, it is one of the least admired political institutions. Thomas Jefferson called it “the most dangerous blot on our Constitution.” It’s been an easy target for abolishment or modernization and polls consistently report citizens would much prefer a simpler direct election. However, amendments require a 2/3 majority in both the House and Senate or a complicated state ratification convention with 3/4 approval. This process has never been attempted.

This outdated system has led to a number of anomalies at times. In 1836, the Whigs tried a novel approach by running different candidates in different parts of the country. William Henry Harrison ran in New England, Daniel Webster in Massachusetts and Hugh White of Tennessee in the South. By running local favorites, they hoped to subsequently combine on one candidate or force the election into the House. The scheme failed when Democrat Martin Van Buren captured the majority.

Another quirk of fate occurred in 1872 when Democratic nominee Horace Greeley died between the popular vote and the meeting of the electors. The Democrats were left without an agreed candidate. Forty-two voted for Governor Tom Hicks … 18 for Gratz Brown … two for Charles Jenkins and three Georgia electors cast their votes for the dead Greeley (Congress refused to accept them).

In 1912, President William Howard Taft and ex-President Theodore Roosevelt caused a split in the Republican Party that allowed Democrat Woodrow Wilson to become president. On Oct. 14, just before a major speech, a fanatic named John Shrank stepped up, shouted something about a third term and shot T.R. in the chest. Roosevelt yelled at the crowd to stand back and declared “I will make this speech or die. It is one thing or the other!” He went on to make a 90-minute speech before heading for the hospital. The bullet had lodged in the massive chest muscles instead of penetrating the lungs! Wilson won but Taft finished a weak third place.

Lastly, compared to “the Revolution of 1800,” the 2020 election was mild and relatively free of widespread disorder. The 1800 campaign was so bitter that VP Aaron Burr ended up killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel and John Adams and Thomas Jefferson would not communicate with each other for 12 years.

Neither Abigail nor John Adams would attend the inauguration. Sound familiar?

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Couriers through history have toted a staggering volume of items

Alf Landon’s congratulatory postal telegram to Franklin D. Roosevelt on Nov. 4, 1936, realized $7,767 at a June 2008 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The passing of information over great distances is an ancient practice that’s used many clever techniques.

In 400 B.C., there were signal towers on the Great Wall of China; beacon lights or drumbeats also were used to relay information. By 200 B.C., the Han dynasty evolved a complex mix of lights and flags. Speed has always been a priority and took many forms, including at the U.S. Postal Service. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds” is the unofficial motto of the Postal Service (probable source: The Persian Wars by Herodotus).

Authorized by Congress in 1792, the many forecasts of the Post Office Department’s imminent demise appear to be exaggerated. We still get incoming six days a week and a post-office driver delivered a package to my place at 8 p.m. last week … one day after I ordered it from Amazon. The post office – renamed the U.S. Postal Service in 1971 – is now running prime-time ads claiming they deliver more e-commerce packages than anyone.

Through history, postal couriers have toted a staggering volume of items, as well as a few astonishing ones. A resourceful farmer once shipped a bale of hay from Oregon to Idaho. A real coconut was sent fourth class from Miami to Detroit with the address and postage affixed to the hull. Even sections of pre-fab houses have been mailed, delivered and then assembled into full-size homes.

Accounts vary as to where the 53-cent postage was affixed to pre-schooler Charlotte May Pierstorff the day her parents mailed her to see her grandmother in Idaho. In 1914, they had discovered it was cheaper to send her by U.S. mail than the full-fare the railroad charged for children traveling alone. At 48½ pounds, little May fell within the parcel post 50-pound weight limit. She traveled in the train’s mail compartment and was safely delivered to grandma. She lived to be 78 and died in California. She’s featured in an exhibit at the Smithsonian … at the National Postal Museum.

Another cheapskate shipped an entire bank building – 80,000 bricks, all in small packages – from Salt Lake City to Vernal, Utah, in 1916. This time, the postmaster put his foot down … no more buildings! But 9,000 tons of gold bars were transferred from New York to Fort Knox in 1940-41. This time, the post office collected $1.6 million in postage and insurance. My all-time favorite was when jeweler Harry Winston donated the famous Hope Diamond to the Smithsonian in 1958. He kept costs low by sending the 45.52-carat gem in a plain brown wrapper by registered first-class mail. (Note: It arrived safely.)

The quest for speed took a quantum leap on May 24, 1844, when Samuel F.B. Morse sent the first telegraph. Standing in the chamber of the Supreme Court, Morse sent a four-word message to his assistant in Baltimore, who transmitted the message back. Members of Congress watched the demonstration with fascination. At the time, the Supreme Court was housed in the Capitol building. They finally got their own building in 1935 after heavy lobbying by Supreme Court Justice William Howard Taft.

For Americans at the turn of the 20th century, seeing a telegram messenger at the door usually meant bad news. Western Union and its competitors weren’t pleased by the fact that their roles as bearers of bad news had spread. So in 1914, they started emphasizing good-news messages, sending them in bright, cheerful seasonal envelopes. Next were 25-cent fixed-text telegrams that gave senders pre-written sentiments in 50 categories, like Pep-Gram #1339: “We are behind you for victory. Bring home the Bacon!” Forgot Mother’s Day? Use #432: “Please accept my love and kisses for my father’s dearest Mrs.” Next were singing telegrams, but they became passé and in 2006, Western shut down its telegram service.

The message of that first Morse telegraph in 1844 is a question we still ask after every innovation, whether it was faxes, the internet, email or texts: “What hath God wrought?”

Perhaps next is mental telepathy. Who knows? It will be faster and awe us once again.

How does a prosperous continent mobilize for total war?

The U.S. Mint in 2013 issued its First Spouse gold coin commemorating Ellen Wilson.

By Jim O’Neal

In 1912, President William Howard Taft and ex-President Theodore Roosevelt managed to divide the Republican Party to the extent that (Thomas) Woodrow Wilson regained the White House for the Democrats. Even Socialist Eugene V. Debs snared nearly a million votes for his policy to replace America’s capitalist system with a socialized economic system. Wilson was the only Democratic Party president elected between 1892 and 1932.

Success in office came easily for Wilson. He was more effective with groups than one-on-one and he broke a tradition that extended back to Thomas Jefferson. He read his State of the Union to Congress rather than submitting a written report. Another change was to keep a sharp line between his public and personal life (a habit developed during his days in academia). Surprisingly, he did not believe in racial equality and some Cabinet organizations were totally racially segregated. His wife Ellen was different. Despite supporting the racial segregation that resulted from the appointment of Southern Senators, she was appalled by the slums that surrounded the White House and became an active crusader to clean up the densely populated, alley blight that was pervasive.

Her failing health was exacerbated when she tripped on a throw rug and fell. She was confined her to bed each day for four hours. In July 1914, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis of the kidneys – a form of Bright’s disease that proved fatal. She died on Aug. 6, 1914. In addition to being stricken with grief, Wilson was dismayed by what would become World War I, when Austria declared war on Serbia after an assassination. The president was grateful that the First Lady was never made aware that the world was crashing into ruin. “It would have broken her heart.”

As the world continued toward a catastrophic war, President Wilson buried himself in work and public appearances were scarce. Newspaper front pages were dominated by the war in Europe and there was a palpable hostility against imperial Germany, despite the president urging for moderation. A European land war did not appear to be a threat to the United States. Our oceans ensured our domestic security.

Occasional positive events punctuated the war clouds, which were growing darker. On Jan. 15, 1915, Wilson hosted a ceremony to inaugurate the first transcontinental telephone call from New York to San Francisco. Ten days later, Germany ominously announced the beginning of submarine warfare around the British Isles. Wilson rushed to mediate (another hopeless gesture), followed by a formal warning reminding Germany of the rights of neutrality for American ships. Sensing a deeper involvement, Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan protested the statement as Wilson remained steadfast.

Sixteen months after Ellen’s death, Wilson remarried and during this interlude the president continued to guide America over the hazardous shoals of neutrality. It was obvious that American involvement could tip the scales of war to either side, but the choice was to avoid war and treat it as rivalry between degenerate political systems. After the Germans sank the RMS Lusitania, the loss of life offended the sense of American justice and extensive war propaganda inflamed it further. The distant war seemed ever so closer.

In the fall of 1916, Wilson produced a message to the warring nations of Europe to lay down their arms, accept American mediation and work together to ensure peace and justice throughout the world. He considered it a masterpiece. “There are some sentences,” he wrote in his diary, “that will live as long as human history.” (Uh, maybe not).

When the United States entered the war, American armies propped up France and England when they were on the brink of collapse. The entire European financial system was crumbling sans U.S. credit.

When Wilson traveled to Paris to pursue his lofty goal of creating a just peace, America’s world prestige and power was at an all-time high. His idealistic 14-point plan was lauded around the world – promising democracy and self-determination for all. Wilson was arguably the most famous man alive. Had he merely presented his plan for a peace framework, his position would have been impregnable. He could have departed and ruled from the safety of the White House. Instead, he stayed and got ensnared by his sharp-elbowed allies, who proceeded to exploit his proximity and inculcate their tribal animosities. Most disastrous was his stubborn inability to compromise.

The ensuing meetings were little short of a disaster and he managed to alienate both his allies and the Germans. Upon his return, he was unable to get even his colleagues to support his plan for a League of Nations; he had a stroke and was unable to govern. It is still a mystery how little was accomplished and how much carnage was suffered. Worse was the planting of seeds guaranteeing a short reprieve followed by a resumption of hostilities.

But then, the First World War was a real mystery … its origins baffling, as were the events that followed. How is it possible for a prosperous continent – a symbol of wealth, global power, at the peak of intellectual and cultural achievement – opt to mobilize for total war, and in the process commit their future to pointless slaughter?

If reincarnated, their first question would likely be, What’s changed?

Yes, Presidential Elections Have Consequences

Chief Justice of the Supreme Court John Marshall is featured on this Fr. 375 Serial Number One $20 1891 Treasury Note, which sold for $114,000 at an April 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In theory, there is no mystery or debate regarding the intention of the Founding Fathers in the selection of members to serve on the Supreme Court.

The Constitution crisply explains, in the second paragraph of Article II, Section 2, that the president shall nominate, and by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, shall appoint judges of the Supreme Court. This provision means exactly what it says and is unchanged by any modifications since its adoption. That includes a simple majority vote of the Senate to grant such consent, to reject or refuse to take action on the presidential nominee.

One idea discussed, but not acted upon, was Benjamin Franklin’s explanation of the Scottish mode of appointment “in which the nomination proceeded from the lawyers, who always selected the ablest of the profession in order to get rid of him, and share his practice among themselves” – a uniquely clever way to eliminate superior competition.

What has changed is the adoption of the “nuclear option” in 2017, which invoked cloture to end filibustering in the Judicial Committee and forced a vote of the committee either up or down on making their recommendation to the full Senate. House Majority Leader Harry Reid had used it to great effect for all legislation that he allowed to the floor while the Democrats were in the majority. Republicans expanded it to include Supreme Court nominees after they regained the majority in 2016. Neil Gorsuch was elected to the Supreme Court under this new rule with a 54-45 Senate vote, picking up three anxious Democrat votes in the process. It’s widely assumed that current nominee Judge Brent Kavanaugh will be elected to the Supreme Court following a similar path since his opponents appear helpless to stop him.

As President Obama once explained, in not too subtle fashion, “Elections have consequences.”

It now seems clear that the Founding Fathers did not foresee that political parties would gradually increase their influence and that partisan considerations of the Senate would become more prominent than experience, wisdom and merit. This was magnified in the current effort to stymie a nomination when the opposition announced they would oppose any candidate the Chief Executive chose. Period. It may not seem reasonable on a literal basis, but it has gradually become routine and will only get worse (if that’s still possible).

It may astonish some to learn that no legal or constitutional requirements for a federal judgeship exist. President Roosevelt appointed James F. Byrnes as an associate justice in 1941 and his admission to practice was by “reading law.” This is an obsolete custom now – Byrnes was the last to benefit – that proceeded modern institutions that specialize in law exclusively. In Byrnes’ case, it’s not clear that he even had a high school diploma. But he was a governor and member of Congress. He resigned 15 months later (the second shortest tenure) in order to become head of the Office of Economic Stabilization and was a trusted FDR advisor who many assumed would replace Vice President Henry Wallace as FDR’s running mate in 1944. That honor went to the little-known, high-school educated Harry Truman, who would assume the presidency the following year when FDR died suddenly.

Thomas Jefferson never dreamed the Supreme Court would become more than just a necessary evil to help balance the government in minor legal proceedings and would be more than astonished that they now are the final arbiter of what is or isn’t constitutional. The idea that six judges (who didn’t even have a dedicated building) would be considered equal to the president and Congress would have been anathema to him.

However, that was before he met ex-Secretary of State John Marshall when he became Chief Justice of the Supreme Court and started the court’s long journey to final arbiter of the Constitution when he ruled on Marbury v. Madison in 1803. There was a new sheriff in town and the next 40 years witnessed the transformation of the court to the pinnacle of legal power. They even have their own building thanks to President William Howard Taft, who died two years before it was complete. Someday, Netflix will persuade them to livestream their public discussions for all of us to watch, although I personally prefer C-SPAN to eliminate the mindless talking heads that pollute cable television.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

McKinley Skillfully Assumed More Presidential Power

This William McKinley political poster, dated 1900, sold for $6,875 at a May 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

William McKinley was 54 years old at the time of his first inauguration in 1897. The Republicans had selected him as their nominee at the St. Louis convention on the first ballot on June 16, 1896. He had spent several years as an effective congressional representative and more recently the 39th governor of Ohio. Importantly, he had the backing of a shrewd manager, Mark Hanna, and the promise of what turned out to be the largest campaign fund in history – $3.5 million – largely by describing the campaign as a crusade of the working man versus the rich, who had impoverished the poor by limiting the money supply.

In the 1896 election, he defeated a remarkable 36-year-old orator, William Jennings Bryan, perhaps the most talented public speaker who ever ran for any office. McKinley wisely decided he could not compete against Bryan in a national campaign filled with political speeches. He adopted a novel “front porch” campaign that resulted in trainloads of voters arriving at his home in Canton, Ohio.

Bryan would lose again to McKinley in 1900, ducked Teddy Roosevelt in 1904, and then lose a third time in 1908 against William Howard Taft. The three-time Democratic nominee did serve two years as secretary of state for Woodrow Wilson (1913-15) and then died five days after the end of the Scopes Monkey Trial in 1925.

William and Ida McKinley followed Grover and Frances Cleveland into the White House after Cleveland’s non-consecutive terms as the 22nd and 24th president. Cleveland’s second term began with a disaster – the Panic of 1893 – when stock prices declined, 500 banks closed, 15,000 businesses failed and unemployment skyrocketed. This significant depression lasted all four years of his term in office and Cleveland, a Democrat, got most of the blame.

His excuse was the 1890 Sherman Silver Purchase Act, which required the Treasury to buy any silver offered using notes backed by silver or gold. An enormous over-production of silver by Western mines forced the Treasury to borrow $65 million in gold from J.P. Morgan and the Rothschild family in England. Since Cleveland had been unable to turn the economy around, it virtually ruined the Democratic Party and created the era of Republican domination from 1861 to 1933, with only Woodrow Wilson winning in 1912 when squabbling between Roosevelt and Taft split the vote three ways.

It’s common knowledge that McKinley was assassinated in 1901 after winning re-election in 1900, but there’s little attention paid to the time he spent in office beginning in 1897. 1898 got off to a wobbly start when his mother died, leading to a full 30 days of mourning that canceled an important diplomatic New Year’s celebration. Tensions between the United States and Spain over Cuba had electrified the diplomatic community and it was hoped that a White House reception would have provided a convenient venue to discuss strategic options.

Spain had mistreated Cuba since Columbus discovered it in 1492 and in 1895, it suspended the constitutional rights of the Cuban people following numerous internal revolutions. Once again, the countryside raged with bloody guerilla warfare; 200,000 Spanish troops were busy suppressing the insurgents and cruelly governing the peasant population. American newspapers horrified the public with details that offended their sense of justice and prompted calls for U.S. intervention. Talk of war with Spain was in the air again.

On Feb. 9, two days before a reception to honor the U.S. Army and Navy, the New York Journal published a front-page article revealing the details of a Spanish diplomat denouncing McKinley as a weakling, “a mere bidder for the admiration of the crowd.” The same day, the Spanish minister in Washington retrieved his passport from the State Department and boarded a train to Canada.

A rapid series of events led to war with Spain, including $50 million that Congress placed at the disposal of the president to be used for defense of the country, with no conditions attached. McKinley was wary of war due to his experience in the Civil War, but he carefully discussed the issue with his Cabinet and key senators to ensure concurrence. This was the first significant step to war and ultimately the transformation of presidential power. On April 25, Congress formally declared war on Spain and the actual landing of forces took place on June 6, when 100 Marines went ashore at Guantanamo Bay.

McKinley’s skillful assumption of authority during the Spanish-American War subtly changed the presidency, as Professor Woodrow Wilson of Princeton University wrote: “The president of the United States is now … at the front of affairs as no president since Lincoln has been since the start of the 19th century.” Those who followed McKinley into the White House would develop and expand these new powers of the presidency … starting with his vice president and successor Theodore Roosevelt, who had eagerly participated in the war with Spain with his “Rough Riders at San Juan Hill.”

We see their fingerprints throughout the 20th century and even today as the concept of formal declarations of war has become murky. Urgency has gradually eroded the power enumerated to Congress and there is almost always “no time to wait for an impotent Congress to resolve their partisan differences.”

The Founding Fathers would be surprised at how far the pendulum has swung.

Presidential Politics Always Filled with Strange Twists and Turns

This rare 1902 Oklahoma Territorial Red Seal, with a vignette of President William McKinley, sold for $16,450 at an April 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The 56th Congress (1899-1901) had assembled in a spirit of tranquility. For the first time since 1883, Republicans were in control of every branch of government and they rejoiced in an exceptional unity. It was the third and fourth years of President William McKinley’s presidency and included one African-American, George Henry White of North Carolina – the last black member of Congress until 1928 and the last one from the South until 1972.

McKinley was in the midst of a dramatically expanding era of foreign trade and the entire nation was applauding U.S. Secretary of State John Hay’s negotiations for the “Open Door Policy” into China. Republicans were also free to take action on the president’s policy to establish a temporary government in Porto Rico (the name was changed by Congress in 1931), with free trade between the islands and the United States. In addition, they needed to provide a territorial government for newly acquired Hawaii.

The minority lost no time in seeking revenge. Lacking a constructive program and impotent to prevent legislation on which the majority united, Democratic leaders resorted to opposition in its rawest form: Seek any device to divide or delay the Republican steamroller (sound familiar?). Constitutional questions were raised on a wide range of resolutions, with special attention to matters involving the Philippines, another recent addition courtesy of the Spanish-American War in 1898. They accused the administration of censorship and obscuring facts from the people on a broad set of issues. Anything to slow them down.

Despite furious, intermittent debates, the chairman of the Committee on the Philippines recommended granting the president broad legislative authority, almost carte blanche legal authority to do as he pleased. This further outraged Democrats and even seemed radical to many Republican senators. But the legislation had been carefully constructed by the superbly knowledgeable Senator John Spooner and modeled on the act by which Congress had authorized Thomas Jefferson to govern Louisiana nearly 100 years earlier.

This further emboldened the president and he adopted an even broader assumption of power and established a new commission to “build up from the bottom” and create a central government to be established in Manila, with the head likely to become a civilian governor. For this position, McKinley wanted a man of unusual qualifications, not only administrative and judicial, but moral as well. He wanted someone who possessed the extraordinary tact and patience required to bridge an interim period of joint control with a military government.

In the middle of January, the president telegraphed Judge William Howard Taft of Cincinnati politely asking him to call.

Taft was an affable man of 42; jolly but impressive with a big body, big smile and a bigger judicial brain, serving as judge of the U.S. Circuit Court at Cincinnati for eight years. Though Taft was a prominent jurist and a highly respected Republican, he did not know McKinley well during McKinley’s time as governor of Ohio. Taft had mingled in politics without becoming a typical politician. He was far too fastidious for the compromises and bargains, uneasy with the quid pro quo and backslapping of politics. Further, he did not have a high opinion of McKinley, despite a cordial dinner on the night of the Ohio elections of 1899.

Less than three months later came this unexpected call from the White House, presumably at the urging of Mark Hanna, the ultimate kingmaker.

Taft was perplexed by the call since he had a single all-consuming ambition, to become a member of the Supreme Court, and there had been no talk of a vacancy. When he arrived at the White House, McKinley came straight to the point, asking him to be a member of the Philippines commission and intimating he would head it. Years later when he was president-elect of the United States, Taft recalled the conversation in a speech: “Judge, I’d like you to go to the Philippines.” “Mr. President, I would like to help, but I am sorry we got the Philippines and I don’t want them.” “Judge, you don’t want them less than I do, but we’ve got them and I can trust a man who doesn’t want them more than a man who does!”

So Judge William Taft became governor of the Philippines (a job he didn’t want) and, ultimately, the 27th president of the United States (another job he reluctantly accepted). He finally got his dream job as the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court on July 11, 1921. He would serve until he retired on Feb. 3, 1930. After his death the following month, he was buried at Arlington National Cemetery, the first president and first Supreme Court Justice to be interred there.

Presidential politics took some strange twists and turns along the way … and some things never seem to change.

President Andrew Johnson Narrowly Escaped Removal From Office

A cotton bandanna made to celebrate the end of the Civil War, featuring President Andrew Johnson, sold for $9,375 at a November 2013 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Andrew Johnson was Abraham Lincoln’s second vice president after they won the 1864 election running on the National Union Party ticket (a one-time name change for the Republicans).

After Lincoln’s assassination, Johnson was drunk at his own inauguration and later was the first U.S. president to be impeached. He was acquitted in the Senate by a single vote.

A classic Southern slavery advocate, Johnson was elected to the U.S. Senate after his presidency (a first).

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This William Howard Taft and James Sherman jugate pocket mirror sold for $2,629.

James “Sunny Jim” Sherman was vice president No. 27 under William Howard Taft. He was the first VP to throw the first pitch on baseball’s opening day, and the last VP to die in office.

His death right after the convention on Oct. 30, 1912, didn’t give Taft a chance to select an alternate so Taft campaigned alone (finishing a weak third despite being the incumbent president). Taft and Theodore Roosevelt (who was attempting to make a comeback) split the vote, giving Woodrow Wilson the win.

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Franklin Delano Roosevelt ran for the WH five times (for VP in 1920) and was successful four times. His mother, Sara Delano Roosevelt, was the first woman to cast a vote for a son in a presidential election (1920).

Roosevelt famously had White House matchbooks printed with “Stolen from the White House,” perhaps to cut down on souvenir-seeking guests.

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Levi Parsons Morton, the 22nd vice president, missed the chance to be president when he declined James Garfield’s offer to be his running mate in 1880.

Garfield then turned to Chester Arthur, who accepted and became president upon Garfield’s assassination in 1881.

After his term as VP, Morton became the only one to then become a governor (of New York). He lived exactly 96 years – dying on his birthday in 1920 (another first and only).

Fairbanks Never Won the Presidency, But there is That City…

A rare 1904 Theodore Roosevelt and Charles Fairbanks jugate (with a cartoon image by the creator of the Teddy Bear, Clifford Berryman) sold for $8,050 at a June 2005 auction.

“To be, or not to be, that is the question.” – Prince Hamlet in William Shakespeare’s play Hamlet

By Jim O’Neal

Charles W. Fairbanks gave the keynote address at the June 1896 Republican Convention in St. Louis. Following the successful nomination and election of former Governor William McKinley of Ohio, Fairbanks became a U.S. Senator from Indiana.

When 1900 rolled around, Mark Hanna – one of the earliest “kingmakers” in American politics – tried to persuade Fairbanks to run as McKinley’s vice president (Vice President Garret Hobart had died in office). But, Fairbanks thought he had a better chance to become president by staying in the Senate.

Bad decision.

McKinley was assassinated in 1901 and Vice President Teddy Roosevelt became president. Fairbanks recognized his earlier lost opportunity, so in 1904, he accepted the vice presidency with TR in the hope that his shot at the presidency would come in 1908.

Wrong again.

Roosevelt threw his support to friend and colleague William Howard Taft and that squashed Fairbank’s aspirations once again.

Now flash forward eight years to 1916, and we find our old friend Fairbanks running for vice president again, this time with former Governor Charles E. Hughes of New York. Alas, Woodrow Wilson was reelected and Fairbanks finally just gave up.

However, he does have a major city named for him, albeit few people can find it on a map.

Taft Waited Patiently to Fulfill a Dream Beyond the Presidency

An oil portrait of William Howard Taft as chief justice, by Emily Burling Waite (1887-1980), realized $3,883 at a May 2010 auction. The painting originated from the collection of the American Red Cross.

By Jim O’Neal

The election of 1920 brought to the presidency a man universally regarded as less than mediocre: Warren Gamaliel Harding of Marion, Ohio.

He was clearly not up to the job and his scandal-ridden administration was perhaps the worst. It was widely known that he soon became disenchanted. “My God,” he told renowned editor William Allen White, “this is a hell of a job! … My friends, my damn friends, they’re the ones that keep me walking the floor nights!” And in a moment of retrospection, he admitted to Nicholas Murray Butler, president of Columbia University, “I am not fit for this office and never should have been here.”

His associates, dubbed the “Ohio Gang,” and his senate colleagues had chosen Harding, a “presidential-looking man,” possibly because they sensed opportunity. Yet Harding’s public embrace of a “return to normalcy” had widespread popular support and it had been a long eight years since Republicans controlled the White House. But still, the evidence of financial scandals penetrating his administration could hardly be ignored. Although some of the worst, such as the Teapot Dome Scandal (which involved his departments of Interior, Justice and the Navy), did not break until after his demise, he was far from unpopular.

One man who was delighted with Harding’s election was ex-President William Howard Taft, who was obsessed with joining the Supreme Court and had been patiently waiting for another Republican president. However, he made it abundantly clear that it had to be as chief justice and not a mere associate. The sitting chief justice – Edward Douglass White – had been elevated by Taft in 1910, and had purposely delayed his retirement pending a Republican in the WH. He even conveniently died on May 19, 1921, just three months after Harding’s inauguration.

The public was expecting an instant appointment. But President Harding procrastinated and the 63-year-old Taft, filled with anxiety and anticipation, used intermediaries to lobby the president vigorously. Finally, Harding concurred and in June 1921, Taft was confirmed 61-4 as chief justice on the same day he was nominated … without even a committee meeting. In a first, the chief justice was succeeded by the president who had nominated him.

New Chief Justice Taft exulted: “I love judges. I love courts. They are my ideas on earth of what we shall meet afterwards in heaven under a just God.” The greatest aspiration of his life had been fulfilled at last!

Few worked as hard on the court, and his dedication and affection for the court are unparalleled. During his time, he wrote 20 percent of the opinions and provided administrative and technical leadership second to none. His orchestration of consensus, of amassing the court into a majority, was often spectacular. He proved to be a superb judicial leader, even in the face of a seriously divided, backlogged, contentious court – skills rarely displayed for many years.

William Howard Taft served in his beloved center chair until acute circulatory ailments resulted in a series of crippling strokes. The result was a grief-stricken resignation on Feb. 3, 1930. He died one month later and became the first president and the first Supreme Court justice to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

The fat gentleman finally got to sing – and then it was over.

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chairman and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

President Taft Often Bypassed Journalists to Speak Directly to American People

lf9gqa02u2 — A 1910 Chicago Cubs team-signed book presented to President Taft sold for $43,020 at an August 2016 Heritage auction. Two months earlier, Taft launched the “Presidential first pitch” tradition at an opening-day game in Washington, D.C.

By Jim O’Neal

It took William Howard Taft time to actually realize he was president of the United States. He told close friends that anytime someone said “Mr. President,” he would look around expecting to see Teddy Roosevelt. Or when he read headlines that the president and a senator had a meeting, his first thought was, “I wonder what they talked about.”

Of course, anyone who succeeded TR would inevitably seem dull and uninspired, but the 6-foot-2 Taft, with his walrus moustache and 300-pound girth, was so ponderous, it exaggerated the differences. Although Roosevelt had retired, his presence hovered beyond the door of every room, and he was the unseen figure at the conference table when Taft sat in council with his political associates.

During Roosevelt’s years in the White House, the American people had come to expect the president to be in every edition of the daily newspapers. Taft made little effort to promote himself, virtually ignoring the press. When they complained, Taft dismissed it, saying he had been elected by the people, not the press. He intended to give his news in speeches directly to the people, not in releases to journalists. (He would have loved Twitter, like you know who).

That was not the only difference between the presidential styles.

william-howard-taft-oil-portrait-by-emily-burling-waite — William Howard Taft oil portrait by Emily Burling Waite.

Taft was slow and soft-spoken and believed the time had come to work behind the scenes for “affirmative legislation.” Taft also held the law sacred, while Roosevelt had not hesitated to stretch it if necessary. Roosevelt used diplomacy to strengthen national power, while Taft viewed national power as an asset to be used in diplomacy. The “Big Stick” of Roosevelt yielded to Taft’s “Dollar Diplomacy” to help American commerce worldwide.

Suddenly, it was no longer the Roosevelt White House.

Even Mrs. Taft made her mark in a hurry. Helen Herron Taft, born in the first year of the Civil War, was 47 at the time of the election. Quick-witted and energetic, she was less a charmer than him and more of a pusher when it came to having her way. Unlike most other first ladies, she was politically savvy and influenced her husband’s activities in all major decisions.

Mrs. Taft had spent time observing the White House during the Roosevelt years, and knew how to make needed changes. During Taft’s governorship of the Philippines, she had learned at Malacañan Palace, with its 125 servants, that a strong administrative structure would free her from daily household obligations. No previous first lady brought experience of that sort to the White House. She had unlimited personal freedom and used it liberally.

Alas, time zipped by and Taft proved ill-equipped to cope with the political patronage. Worse, he committed the error of angering Roosevelt – the man who had literally put him in the job – and TR wrecked the Republican Party to prevent “Big Bill” Taft from having a second term. Upon leaving the White House, the 55-year-old Taft accepted an appointment as a law professor at Yale and then finally was granted his lifelong dream of being on the Supreme Court (appointed by Warren G. Harding). When Chief Justice Edward White died, Taft was swiftly appointed Chief Justice.

“All’s well the ends well.”

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is President and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as Chairman and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].