The Letters of Franklin K. Lane, Personal and PoliticalLane, Franklin K.
History
The Letters of Franklin K. Lane, Personal and Political
Lane, Franklin K.
United States -- Politics and government -- 1913-1921; World War, 1914-1918 -- United States
My office is a sort of place of last resort for those who are
discouraged elsewhere, for Washington is no longer a city of set
routine and fixed habit. It is at last the center of the nation.
New York is no longer even the financial center. The newspapers
are edited from here. Society centers here. All the industrial
chiefs of the nation spend most of their time here. It is easier
to find a great cattle king or automobile manufacturer or a
railroad president or a banker at the Shoreham or the Willard
Hotel than it is to find him in his own town. The surprising thing
is that these great men who have made our country do not loom so
large when brought to Washington and put to work. ... Every day I
find some man of many millions who has been here for months and
whose movements used to be a matter of newspaper notoriety, but I
did not know, even, that he was here. I leave my office at seven
o'clock, not having been out of it during the day except for a
Cabinet or Council meeting, take a wink of sleep, change my
clothes and go to a dinner, for this, as you will remember, is the
one form of entertainment that Washington has permitted itself in
the war. The dinners are Hooverized,--three courses, little or no
wheat, little or no meat, little or no sugar, a few serve wine.
And round the table will always be found men in foreign uniforms,
or some missionary from some great power who comes begging for
boats or food. These dinners used to be places of great gossip,
and chiefly anti-administration gossip, but the spirit of the
people is one of unequaled loyalty. The Republicans are as glad to
have Wilson as their President as are the Democrats, I think
sometimes a little more glad, because many of the Democrats are
disgruntled over patronage or something else. The women are
ferocious in their hunt for spies, and their criticism is against
what they think is indifference to this danger. Boys appear at
these dinners in the great houses, because of their uniforms, who
would never have been permitted even to come to the front door in
other days, for all are potential heroes. Every woman carries her
knitting, and it is seldom that you hear a croaker even among the
most luxurious class. Well, the dinner is over by half past ten,
and I go home to an hour and a half's work, which has been sent
from the office, and fall at last into a more or less troubled
sleep. This is the daily round.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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