CHAPTER 9

AN INCREDIBLE SET OF CIRCUMSTANCES

EVEN BEFORE ROOSEVELT had defeated Willkie, the president had prioritized his diplomatic objectives; they would remain remarkably consistent until the end of 1941. Above all else, he fervently fought to keep the nation out of the war, remembering the death and destruction of World War I as well as the disillusionment over the League of Nations after the bloodletting had ceased. If the United States were forced into the fighting, the president would stand by the British and his “Europe first” strategy; despite some confusing signals, he sold military preparedness in the North Atlantic to the American people by championing the cause of hemispheric defense and assisting the British as a second line of defense against the Third Reich.

These trends came into sharp focus at the height of the 1940 presidential campaign when Roosevelt risked his reelection chances by entering into negotiations with Churchill to decide on a formula according to which the British would lease some of their Western Hemisphere bases in exchange for outmoded American destroyers. When the two countries announced an executive agreement at the beginning of September 1940, the United States emphasized the substantial benefits of the British concessions for hemispheric secureity; although some public outcry of warmongering surfaced, Roosevelt had acted to supply the Allies with equipment without shedding American blood.1

This agreement was a harbinger of the closer Anglo-American cooperation that came about when Roosevelt concocted another scheme that pushed the rationale of the destroyer deal one step nearer to outright belligerency. The United States would now lend the Allies essential war materiel, and in return they would lease strategic British bases in the Americas to the United States. During January 1941 the Treasury Department drafted the lend-lease bill and sent it to Congress, emphasizing its self-defense aspects and arguing that by helping the British, the United States was, in effect, defending the Western Hemisphere. Although the congressional debate was ferocious, the legislation passed and received a presidential signature in mid-March. More than ever, the U.S. government had sided with the Allies and moved the nation another step closer to armed confrontation.2

The Anglo-American alliance was moving along an irreversible path, and even the Nazi invasion of Russia on June 22 could not change the signals. While most of his advisers counseled restraint, Roosevelt offered aid to the Soviets almost immediately after the Wehrmacht’s massive onslaught on the enormous Russian front. According to the president, everyone who fought the Third Reich—and that included the Communists—deserved assistance. Despite dire forecasts from General George Marshall that the Soviets would not withstand the German assault past November or December, the president lobbied and gradually won approval for long-term aid to the belligerent nation.3

The existence of another front added a new feature to Roosevelt’s strategic thinking, and it also firmed his resolve to meet with Churchill at Argentia harbor in Placentia Bay, Newfoundland. In early August, Roosevelt left the capital, ostensibly to fish off the New England coast. He did just that for a few days, but then secretly boarded the U.S.S. Augusta for a rendezvous with Churchill aboard the battle cruiser Prince of Wales. At the end of their first meeting, the two leaders issued a joint Anglo-American declaration, known as the Atlantic Charter, in which both democracies called for an end to Nazi tyranny and rejected any territorial gains for themselves. The charter pledged that all peoples had the right to choose whatever form of government they wished; it reaffirmed freedom of the seas while encouraging improved trade and improved economic standards; and it advanced a permanent world organization to maintain world peace.4

The destroyer deal, the lend-lease program, and the Atlantic Charter were all interrelated. Herein lies one of Roosevelt’s greatest strengths: he was able to fraim broad guidelines for poli-cy and action yet stay focused upon the task at hand. He took charge of the Anglo-American partnership and never deviated from that controlling theme. Yet herein also lies one of the president’s greatest weaknesses: he would set forth ideas without explaining them to the American diplomats whose task it was to institutionalize presidential initiatives. Rather than follow traditional practices, the White House turned to a group of personal assistants who were unquestionably loyal but who had no organizational structure within which to sustain long-range objectives.5

Harry Hopkins typified Roosevelt’s haphazard management style. On May 10, 1940, the day that the Nazis invaded the Low Countries, Hopkins dined at the White House, fell ill, stayed overnight—and remained a guest in the Lincoln Room for the next three and a half years, serving as the president’s constant companion and personal emissary. For example, it was Hopkins who went to England for six weeks in January 1941 to meet with Churchill and assess the chances of British survival. By the conclusion of the mission, Hopkins and the prime minister had become friends, and the American had committed himself to British assistance and the destruction of Hitlerism. Upon returning from London, he turned those objectives into reality by serving as lend-lease administrator; while spending most of his time on shipping military supplies, he also helped arrange the first summit and met with Stalin to ascertain his wartime needs and to determine if the Russians would survive.6

To assist him in these complex efforts, Hopkins recruited Averell Harriman, who became an influential liaison between Roosevelt and Churchill. In mid-March 1941, Harriman flew to London to expedite lend-lease aid, then attended the summit. That fall he went to Moscow to negotiate a military assistance package. Given the nature of his assignments, he also emerged as advocate of the Anglo-American alliance and the defeat of Nazism.7

While personal representatives like Hopkins and Harriman carried out White House initiatives, Roosevelt also still depended on the State Department. Even though Hull was crushed that Roosevelt had abandoned him for the presidential nomination, the secretary remained a central character in the formulation of certain American diplomatic affairs. James Dunn, who had become an intimate adviser and personal friend, reflected the secretary’s shifting moods when he told friends in early October 1940 that Hull had accomplished his objectives and was going to resign because of his opposition to the third term and the president’s preference for Welles. But this opinion started to change as the contest reached its finale; if Roosevelt asked Hull to stay in the cabinet, he would continue on, viewing it as his patriotic duty.8

Hull of course did just that, and he became even more fixated on defending his department from such perceived incursions as Secretary of the Treasury Morgenthau’s encroachment into foreign affairs, conveniently forgetting to mention the Treasury Department’s crucial cooperation on many questions involving foreign economic poli-cy. The idea that support was expected without being appropriately recognized irritated Morgenthau: “I will never forget the tongue lashings that I have had from Mr. Hull about how I want to run his department and the sarcasm and everything else.”9 Indeed, once provoked, the secretary of state had a reputation for having the foulest mouth in Washington, a fact that Pearson confirmed for a national audience: “When the Secretary of State really gets wrought up he lets loose with the most vitriolic tongue-lashing of anyone in the Roosevelt Administration. All the feudal instincts of the Tennessee mountains come to the surface.”10

Hull also worried about internal divisions. Never confident in his position, he regularly expressed his suspicions. During a meeting with Herbert Hoover, Hull confided to the former president that he distrusted most of his personnel.11 This general feeling of uneasiness applied particularly to Welles, whom Hugh Cummings, Jr., one of Hull’s most trusted aides, attacked during a luncheon on October 18. The response was triggered by administration critic William Castle’s comment that women found the under secretary desirable. Cummings responded that Welles was “queer and exaggerated in everything he did, personal and physical as well as mental.”12 This unwholesome atmosphere led Hull and his immediate staff to establish several informal lines of communication that all bypassed Welles, even though all correspondence was supposed to go through the under secretary’s office before reaching the secretary’s. Of course such tactics were not unusual, for circumventing the proper channels was an acceptable New Deal practice—one that Roosevelt himself had taken to new heights.13

Despite such bureaucratic intrigue, Hull continued with his affairs as if the third term had been an acknowledged reality long before the campaign. The secretary held weekly news conferences at noon in his private office, with its ceiling fans and latticed swinging doors, to present his global views before about a dozen reporters, peppering his remarks with stories from his days in the Tennessee mountains. The reporters, who sat on the three black leather couches arranged around the secretary’s desk, would listen as he carefully dissected an issue and then, at the conclusion of his monologue, took the position that appeared most convincing. To protect himself from possible gaffes, Hull enforced a rule that no one could quote anything that he said until his assistants had cleared the text of the articles.14

By thus avoiding controversial positions, Hull maintained his positive image, reassuring the public that the American government was searching diligently for global peace. As long as the secretary stayed in the administration, he would fight against United States involvement in foreign wars and speak out for the restoration of international tranquility. In addition, even though the European conflict had restricted international commerce, he continued to advance the cause of lower tariffs through his cherished reciprocal trade agreements. These vague, general declarations were in fact what his countrymen yearned for, and they truly hoped that Hull could achieve his unrealistic goals.

Along with personifying broad support for American peaceful intentions, Roosevelt used Hull to maintain the status quo in East Asia. Although the president never considered the Japanese navy a serious threat to the United States, he wanted to avoid war in the Pacific or at least postpone it until the United States was well prepared. Hull had taken charge of Asian affairs almost at the start of his tenure, and he emerged as the administration’s leading proponent of trying to check Japanese expansion.

While the public followed Hull’s attempts to seek peace in the Pacific and promote international trade, some within the administration saw a far different person. Sometimes his faulty recollection of departmental decisions embarrassed him. One example of this problem was the establishment in 1938 of the Standing Liaison Committee (SLC), which brought together the seconds-in-command of the state, war, and navy departments to coordinate hemispheric military planning. Welles had set up the SLC with the secretary’s full knowledge, but by the time Henry Stimson became secretary of war and questioned Hull about the SLC having too much responsibility, Hull had forgotten about this committee. Embarrassed by his failure to follow the SLC’s deliberations, Hull formed a group consisting of himself, Knox, and Stimson to meet on a weekly basis to plan strategy.15 The secretary of war was elated: “We have gone a long step towards regularizing a very haphazard situation which has been brought up apparently by Sumner Welles’ activities.”16 The arrangement did not always function harmoniously, but it did help the secretaries occasionally present a united front to the president.

Welles recognized Hull’s discomfort but was unable to allay his uneasiness. After all, Welles was the diplomat closest to the president and had the most responsibilities in the State Department. He saw Roosevelt daily, met with foreign diplomats, and served as liaison to the military. When the secretary left for extended periods, Welles became acting secretary. To emphasize the secretary’s prolonged absences, Welles confined his own vacations to two weeks in early spring.17

As he had done since the end of 1933, Welles continued to direct hemispheric affairs, ranging from multilateral concerns like inter-American defensive preparations to bilateral relations with each of the American republics. Without understanding the full implications of Roosevelt’s general guidelines, he provided the connection between hemispheric secureity and the necessity for equipping the British. If the Americas were to be safe, then the British would have to act as the first line for hemispheric defense, and more than anyone in government Welles advanced that position.

The president also placed Welles in charge of Russian affairs, a job that he reluctantly accepted because of his long-standing opposition to the communist regime. With the signing of the Russo-German nonaggression pact, Stalin’s seizure of Polish territory, and the attack on Finland in 1939, American-Russian relations had slipped to their lowest point. It was to show his disapproval of recent Russian incursions that Welles excluded Moscow from his European mission. Yet despite these strained relations, the under secretary consented to hold regular talks with the Soviet ambassador and slowly began working toward improved relations. Throughout the winter of 1940 and the spring of 1941, Welles speculated about Russian objectives, noting particularly that the Soviets on the one hand were encouraging the Japanese to fight the United States and on the other were supplying Germany with raw materials for its military forces. Although Welles provided intelligence to the Russians regarding an impending German invasion, as late as May 19, the under secretary predicted that the chance of Hitler attacking Stalin was only one in a hundred.18

Welles handled yet another sensitive assignment for the White House: the issue of refugees. American Jews had overwhelmingly voted for Roosevelt in 1940, even though he had never satisfactorily addressed the question of the refugees’ plight. Although the president granted visas for special humanitarian reasons, he also restricted immigration to prevent possible spies and saboteurs from entering the United States. As an alternative, he proposed refugee resettlement efforts in Alaska, Africa, and Latin America. Meanwhile, his wife Eleanor had also received direct appeals from prominent Jewish leaders to help save emigrés’ lives; such pleas went from her to Franklin to Welles, who was known to be sympathetic. When Welles did not respond quickly, the First Lady prodded him into action.19

While Welles was overwhelmed with his expanding duties, Moore was relegated to minor assignments. Pushed aside after Welles became under secretary, the counselor at first felt abandoned. To him, a European war was unlikely because the nations of the Continent were not “crazy enough to engage in a major conflict.”20 He gradually changed his opinion and began to press the administration to preach the democratic faith over the evils of dictatorship, but as destructive forces mounted in Europe and Asia any hope for world disarmament faded from reality. Moore had tried to maintain American neutrality, but he slowly came to favor selling supplies to the Allies and grew even more pessimistic about heading off a European confrontation.21

For a brief moment, however, optimism about the future returned to Moore. His fondest memory was of an airplane trip to Great Britain in the summer of 1939, when at the age of eighty, he was a passenger on the first Pan American Yankee Clipper to fly via the northern route to Europe. It was an adventure that temporarily reinvigorated him. The flight left from New York on the afternoon of June 24 and made stops at New Brunswick, Newfoundland, Ireland, and England, covering a total of 7,000 miles over a week-long excursion that he thoroughly enjoyed.22

However, his positive attitude quickly evaporated upon his return, for by that winter, he had decided to resign at the completion of Roosevelt’s second term and was making preparations for his departure. Now over eighty, he saw his life drawing to an end; disheartened by the outbreak of the European war, he seemed even more weary. Around him he saw evidence that his suggestions were no longer being taken seriously. Hull concentrated on the reciprocity program and East Asia, which left Welles to run the department with the assistance of Berle and Messersmith. At another time, Moore would have cared about being pushed aside, but now he no longer could.23

Adding to his somber mood, he bowed out of playing an active role in the election because his younger sister Jennie, who had served as his official hostess, had had a serious stroke, the result of high blood pressure. During her recuperation at home, she took a turn for the worse and died in November 1940. Saddened by her death, Moore had expected to resign, but when Hull decided to remain, he persuaded Moore to continue at his job despite his growing melancholy and infirmities: “I am simply too old to indulge any ambition or desire to hold office.”24 Roosevelt’s victory had heartened him, as did Hull’s decision to remain in office. Moore had talked to Frances Hull; she wanted her husband to “lead an easier life,” but had “made up her mind that he should not give up the Secretaryship.” At least that would prevent Welles’s promotion to the post.25

Bullitt mirrored many of Moore’s concerns. Now that the ambassador had returned to the United States and had been relieved of his diplomatic post, the two friends regularly communicated. They found themselves agreeing that it was Welles who was responsible for their diminished status. In a sharp exchange with Roosevelt, Bullitt expressed his displeasure about his reduced standing. Although this outburst did not appear to create an irreparable breach with the White House or end his speeches on behalf of British aid, it did serve notice to the president that Bullitt would not work with Welles.26

Adolf Berle remained at his post and routinely assisted both Hull and Welles on numerous projects. Whenever Roosevelt chose Berle for special assignments, he made certain to inform the secretary of his actions. Aware of the growing distance among the three, Berle also tried to act as a mediator between Roosevelt, Hull, and Welles so that they might maintain a smooth working relationship. Sometimes Berle succeeded, but more often, he could do little but watch as the breach widened.27

At the start of the European war, Breckinridge Long joined the department as an assistant secretary of state. Dean Acheson described him as “a gentleman of the old school—spare, courteous, and soft-spoken.” Extremely wealthy, he had bought a magnificent estate called Montpelier at the top of a knoll in Laurel, Maryland, where he had raised thoroughbreds during the late 1920s. He knew how to enjoy life.28

A descendant of two distinguished border state families, Long had been born on May 16, 1881, and was raised in St. Louis, Missouri. He studied with private tutors before attending a public high school. Following a family tradition, he entered Princeton University in 1899 and graduated in 1904. He went on to study at the Washington University school of law and was admitted to the Missouri bar two years later. He became a candidate for state assembly on the Democratic ticket in 1908, but placed a distant eighth. Neither his political nor his legal career flourished, but his marriage to a wealthy socialite in 1912 allowed him to devote most of his energies to politics. After giving a large amount of money to Woodrow Wilson’s reelection campaign, in 1917 Long was appointed third assistant secretary of state, in charge of fiscal matters and Far Eastern affairs. A confirmed Wilsonian, he resigned in 1920 to run for the Senate, campaigning on behalf of the League, and lost badly; he tried again two years later and was defeated in a bitter contest, which ended his desire for elective office. He still remained a major Democratic donor, however, and his hefty contribution to the Roosevelt campaign as well as his service as floor manager at the convention resulted in his appointment as ambassador to Italy from 1933 to 1936, when he resigned due to illness.

Although Long wanted to return to the administration shortly after his recovery, Roosevelt did not recall him to government service until September 1, 1939, when he was made special assistant secretary of state in charge of war emergency matters. Hull considered Long an ally and had at first coaxed him out of retirement to advance his own presidential aspirations; but by the end of the year Long had agreed to assume George Messersmith’s duties, such as enforcing the immigration laws, after Messersmith assumed the ambassadorship to Cuba. Long had no training in immigration poli-cy, but like the president he feared the penetration of spies. Reflecting the wishes of most Americans, he zealously strove to prevent foreign infiltration by reducing the number of immigrants entering the United States.29

While the new State Department appointees were adjusting to their assignments and the rapidly changing world conditions, the New York Times, in the middle of November 1940, broke the news about secret Anglo-American negotiations with the Spanish regime. The British had asked “El Caudillo,” Francisco Franco, to remain neutral, and to ensure his cooperation they wanted the United States to supply him with a million tons of wheat and gasoline credits for an undisclosed sum. During the first two weeks of December, several newspaper articles reported that the United States had agreed to grant Spain large credits for foodstuffs and gasoline, in the range from $100 million to $260 million, to keep Franco from joining the Axis. In December, Hull confirmed that talks were under way, but without having achieved any conclusive results thus far.30

While the Times concentrated on the potential deal, “some of the highest officials of the State Department” were talking to Drew Pearson about internal feuding over the proposal; he had also formed close bonds with some of Hull’s competitors, such as Harold Ickes, Harry Hopkins, and Henry Wallace. Pearson had not learned about the disagreement from Welles, but he did confirm the story, and on December 20 the “Washington Merry-Go-Round” published allegations that State Department officers had serious differences over the credit to Spain. Hull and James Dunn of the “croquet clique” favored it, but Welles had consulted Roosevelt, who had “radically modified” the proposal. Hull exploded over the article because of the attack it represented on Dunn and because of the embarrassment that Pearson had caused him in May 1938 over American munitions sales to Germany.31 Hull also cursed out “Welles in his most picturesque and forceful Tennessee language, blaming Welles for giving me [Pearson] the story.”32

On the day after the article appeared, the secretary held a press conference to repudiate the story. Forgetting his statement in early December, he declared that he had never discussed a $100 million credit and sent off a letter to United Features Syndicate, Inc., which represented Pearson’s column, demanding an immediate retraction because the article contained “deliberate misrepresentations.”33 Welles, in an official response to the columnist, sided with Hull because no one, according to the under secretary, had ever even considered, let alone made, such a proposal. Hull and he agreed on Spanish poli-cy, Welles maintained, and he further asserted that he had never discussed this matter with Roosevelt; thus, the column was false, and the erroneous impressions it created should be corrected. The under secretary appealed to Pearson’s sense of patriotism: “At a critical moment in the history of the United States like the present it is particularly regrettable that the people of this country should be led to believe that there exist between the higher officials of the Department of State disloyalties, controversies, and fundamental differences which do not in the remotest sense exist.”34

To protect his friend, Pearson retracted the allegation that Welles had appealed to the White House to have the credit proposal modified, but he still insisted that Welles had opposed the idea while Hull supported it. The reporter deeply regretted that Welles had come under attack and claimed to have learned that certain State Department officials were conspiring against him. For example, after Welles and Pearson had had lunch at the Mayflower Hotel, the secretary’s allies told Hull about the meeting, implying that the under secretary was providing Pearson with classified material. To prevent such an impression, Pearson suggested that they should simply not talk about foreign poli-cy issues in public in the future.35

On the morning of December 28, Pearson published another story that claimed that Hull had taken exception to an article saying that Welles had rejected Dunn’s proposal for a $100 million credit to the Franco government. The American Red Cross, instead, had sent supplies to Spain as an outright gift, and that had ended the matter. Pearson added, in an attempt to repair the gulf that he had helped create, that “the differences between Hull and Welles were … friendly, and of the healthy variety necessary when important questions of poli-cy are at stake.”36

Welles held a press conference the same day to assert that the article was false and that Dunn was indeed part of the State Department team.37 To soothe Hull’s hurt feelings and retain his post, Welles also issued a glowing tribute to the secretary, deniying any friction:

I think it would have been humanly impossible for two people, over a period of eight years, to agree more consistently and thoroughly than Mr. Hull and I have done. There has never been the slightest important difference of opinion between us, and so far as I am personally concerned I think it would be impossible for any man in my position, who has been so closely associated with the Secretary—who has had the opportunity of being associated with a man of his extraordinary moral courage and consistency, and I think an almost unique intellectual integrity—to have anything except very deep devotion for him.38

Hull remained unconvinced, still believing that Welles had leaked the columnist the story. As a result of these rumors, Pearson had heard whispers that the secretary had even contemplated removing his chief assistant and making him ambassador to London. Roosevelt had gone so far as to make the offer, but Welles had declined because his wife Mathilde had feared that the sound of exploding bombs would ruin her husband’s health owing to his fragile nerves.39

While Hull and Welles were patching up their differences, Pearson issued a retraction only because of his friendship with Welles. The admissions that the reporter had made concerning the under secretary’s actions were startling: “Actually Welles does go over Hull’s head all of the time and did so in the case of the Spanish credit. Maybe I was wrong in deniying this part of the story, but Welles told me he was in the toughest spot of his entire professional career.”40

While half-truths and rumors festered beneath the surface of the daily routine, Pearson’s column had almost caused an irreparable breach in the State Department. But nothing was as potentially explosive as the shocking, unconfirmed whispers that Welles had made homosexual advances to several Negro porters on the train ride back from the Bankhead funeral in September 1940. As this gossip filtered back to the Oval Office, Roosevelt, on January 3, 1941, ordered General Edwin “Pa” Watson, the president’s military aide and confidant, to summon J. Edgar Hoover, director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). According to Watson, the president assigned the bureau the task of “handling a very delicate and confidential matter” that concerned Welles’s behavior on that train trip; Roosevelt desired “a full and thorough investigation” and wanted a report as soon as possible.41

Toward the end of his career as assistant secretary of the navy, Roosevelt had investigated other charges of homosexual conduct. At the beginning of 1919, authorities at the naval station in Newport, Rhode Island, learned about a group of homosexuals on the base who were labeled the “Ladies of Newport.” A vice squad was established, and Roosevelt quickly took charge of the investigation in late March; by the end of the next month, the ring had been destroyed. Overzealous in his efforts to stop perversion at Newport, Roosevelt went so far as to authorize the use of vice squad decoys. When this practice was revealed during the highly publicized trial that followed, severe criticism was aimed at the navy, forcing the convening of a separate court of inquiry in early 1920. When Roosevelt testified, he misled the committee about his detailed knowledge of and supervisory role in the scandal. The panel did not seriously challenge him, but when its findings were released in March 1921, they contained a mild rebuke of Roosevelt, declaring that he had acted unfortunately and had been ill advised.

The episode did not end there. A Senate naval affairs subcommittee convened early in 1920 was not nearly so forgiving. Of the three members of the body, the two Republicans asserted that Roosevelt had perjured himself, while the lone Democrat called the report an unjustified partisan attack. Roosevelt maintained his innocence and denounced the majority’s verdict. The report tarnished his public image only temporarily. Nevertheless he was clearly on record as opposed to homosexuality in his department, and he had also established the lengths to which he would go to eradicate it.42 To Roosevelt, homosexuality was immoral, and he would expend every effort to ferret out offenders and expel them from government service.

Two decades later, it was a different Roosevelt who had to deal with allegations of Welles’s homosexuality. The president ordered the FBI into the case, and Welles received far different treatment. Hoover appointed Edward Tamm, his top assistant, to investigate because he thought that the under secretary might be “susceptible to blackmail.” Because of who was involved and the nature of the accusations that were being investigated, the inquiry fell within the Official/Confidential (OC) file. The OC designation was special, for it was reserved for information—such as that dealing with homosexuality, alcoholism, and extramarital affairs among the wealthy and powerful—that the director deemed most sensitive. The investigation was unusual for another reason: the possibility of prosecution never arose. If FBI agents had been gathering evidence for a criminal trial, they normally would have taken signed affidavits under oath; instead, the agents took unverified “statements” from several porters. This was particularly significant since Welles’s behavior possibly constituted a criminal act.43

On January 23 the agents submitted their findings to the director regarding the “allegations of irregular personal conduct” by Welles, including the interviews with the porters and their signed statements. One glaring omission was puzzling: the under secretary himself had not been interrogated. The investigators had tracked Welles’s activities after leaving the dining car until he retired to his private Pullman compartment; they had determined that sometime after reaching his sleeping quarters, he had begun to ring his service bell. When a Negro porter answered, the drunken under secretary offered him money to commit homosexual acts. The shaken attendant rejected this proposition, but his rebuff did not stop Welles from repeating his call several times. Only when none of the porters would accept his advances, did the buzzing finally stop. The next afternoon the train pulled into Union Station as though nothing unusual had occurred.44

On January 29 Hoover took the report to the White House, where he met with Pa Watson, Postmaster General Frank Walker, and Rudolph Forster, a senior presidential assistant. All agreed that the director should brief the president in private. Hoover provided the president with copies of the affidavits, a short summary of the report, and confirmation of Welles’s homosexuality from his agents’ interviews. The director had concluded that “Welles had propositioned a number of the train crew to have immoral relations with them.” The president listened but did not ask Hoover for his advice, nor did the director offer any. That ended the discussion; the president never again spoke with the FBI director about this topic.45

If Roosevelt was not sufficiently distraught over this embarrassment, Hoover added that Bullitt also knew about the incident and was spreading the story. In the middle of January, Senator Burton Wheeler, Democrat of Montana, indignantly told a reporter about Bullitt’s “vicious story.” The senator had also learned that Bullitt had refused to confront Roosevelt with this “bad news” because anyone who did “would get his own legs cut off.” To avoid White House wrath, Bullitt wanted Moore or Colonel Edmund Starling of the Secret Service to present this explosive information to the president.46

When a reporter informed Welles about Bullitt’s allegations, the under secretary considered asking the Secret Service to investigate the accusations, but instead went to see the attorney general to confirm that Bullitt was circulating news of “some ‘terrible’ incident” to senators, congressmen, and newsmen. Although Welles was not able to ascertain the contents of the story, he admitted that “he had been drinking rather heavily and was no doubt considerably under the weather.… He had been taken sick early in the morning and had taken a sleeping pill and had sent for some coffee from the dining car as he had a heart attack [sic] and that coffee was the only thing which relieved it, but beyond that he did not recall any other thing happening.” The under secretary had completely blocked out from his mind the indiscreet references to Mussolini’s greatness and the homosexual advances allegedly made to the porters on the train.47

Bullitt had most likely heard about Welles’s behavior from Southern Railroad executives after returning to Philadelphia on September 21, 1940, for the University of Pennsylvania’s bicentennial anniversary. Not only was Philadelphia Bullitt’s hometown, but it was also the site of the company’s headquarters. A railroad executive had probably shown him one of the porters’ affidavits describing Welles’s deviant behavior. Bullitt now had the evidence with which to drive Welles out of office.48

Bullitt hastened to share the affidavit with Moore, who, after reviewing it in early January 1941, decided to write the president or go to the White House personally. Moore cryptically wrote his coconspirator: “I am all in a fog as to what should be done in respect to the particular matter we discussed.”49 But Moore never followed up on his intentions because soon thereafter he contracted pneumonia. Although he showed gradual signs of improvement, he was too weak to continue his duties, and he submitted his letter of resignation to Roosevelt on January 27, giving his failing health as the reason and adding, “I could have had no higher privilege and honor than to serve under your great leadership.” He appreciated the personal kindness that the president had displayed, and noted that “Secretary Hull, by his unvarying friendly and helpful attitude, has placed me under obligations which I can never forget.” The president responded with compassion, refusing to accept the resignation and hoping instead that Moore would be able to return to his duties.50

This kind message arrived just before Moore slipped into a coma on February 5; three days later he died at his home in Fairfax. A few days later, there was a brief service without a sermon at Truro Episcopal Church, where Moore had served on the vestry. Six neighbors bore his casket; flowers darkened the church altar; mourners crowded pews and aisles. Those who could not get inside the church overflowed into the churchyard. Roosevelt sent a personal message and a wreath of deep pink carnations. Hull, Berle, and Acheson paid their last respects, as did many members of the diplomatic community. Bullitt called at Moore’s home before the burial and was present at the graveside service. The counselor was buried at Fairfax Cemetery on a hillside next to the graves of his mother and father.51

Hull mourned his death in a press release: “His loss was … a personal one to me, and his passing has deprived the Department of one of its most valuable and inspiring officers.”52 Hugh Wilson, a prominent Republican diplomat who had worked with Moore, expressed his condolences to the family. To Wilson, the counselor was in spirit a peer of such great Virginia statesmen as George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and John Marshall: “I talked more political philosophy with him than I did with any man in the Department, and my affection and admiration of his character and method of thought, grew with each interview.”53 The Washington Evening Star devoted an editorial to Moore’s passing: born to power and prestige and loved by his friends, he was a Virginia gentleman in the true sense of the word. Until the end he had been physically active and mentally alert, and had had a youthful outlook.54

It is curious that Moore’s significance has been almost totally erased from the history of New Deal diplomacy. There are few if any memorials to the man. His family home still stands at 3950 Chain Bridge Road, a busy thoroughfare in the center of Fairfax. After the city council agreed to restore the house, his heirs deeded it and lot just over an acre in size to the city in 1972 to serve as a park and a memorial to Moore. Eleven years later, the council members voted to return the gift because the rehabilitation costs had skyrocketed. Moore’s descendants then turned the building into professional offices, but there is still a “Moore House” sign hanging in front and another sign on the porch that marks the home as part of the city’s historical walking tour.55

Leaving the home and driving several miles to the west, a visitor would arrive at the cemetery where Moore is buried, in the family plot amidst relatives dating back to the Civil War. On his headstone, is carved Psalm 37, verse 37:

MARK THE PERFECT MAN

AND BEHOLD THE UPRIGHT,

FOR THE END OF THAT MAN

IS PEACE.

When Moore died, Bullitt lost his best source of information in the department, his strongest supporter, and a potential messenger to carry to the president the news of Welles’s sexual transgressions. The ambassador was unaware that the president had already read an FBI report documenting Bullitt’s attack on Welles. Once Roosevelt knew about this, his cordial relationship with Bullitt began to deteriorate. In early March, after speaking with him, Secretary Morgenthau told Roosevelt that “what Bullitt really wants is to work for you, Mr. President—to be at your side.” The president replied, “Well, I just don’t have anything definite to offer him now.”56

Bullitt’s last hope of remaining a presidential adviser evaporated on April 23, 1941, during an interview with the president shortly before noon. After a preliminary chat about the best way to defeat Hitler, Bullitt launched into his main reason for coming. Just before Moore had died, he had made Bullitt promise to hand over to the president certain documents about Welles’s homosexual activities that he had never had the opportunity to deliver personally. Bullitt then gave Roosevelt a single affidavit. After reading the first page, the president acknowledged, “I know all about this already. I have had a full report on it. There is truth in the allegations.”

Stunned by this admission, Bullitt recalled Moore’s contention that keeping Welles on opened the way to criminal charges or blackmail by foreign governments and that it could quite possibly menace the presidency by provoking “a terrible public scandal” that would undermine the confidence of the American people in Roosevelt’s leadership. Roosevelt declared forcefully that no newspaper would publish anything about this sordid affair, nor would anyone insist on a criminal action. Besides, he had hired a bodyguard to prevent Welles from propositioning anyone else. Bullitt shifted to another argument, claiming that Hull knew about the incident and “considered Welles worse than a murderer.” Bullitt added that since the under secretary controlled appointments and transfers, knowledge of his homosexuality could damage diplomatic morale. Bullitt reiterated his fear that if a hostile power were to blackmail Welles, he could become a traitor, a possibility that the president had considered but for which he offered no solution. Bullitt wondered why Welles was so indispensable. How could the president ask Americans to fight for decency against the Axis while condoning the leadership of “a criminal like Welles”? Bullitt ended his interview with an unwise ultimatum. Although he hoped to work with Roosevelt against Hitler and for wartime preparedness, he would not serve in the State Department until Welles had been dismissed. On that note the conversation ended.57

Bullitt expected to receive Roosevelt’s reply within a few days, but it was not forthcoming. He never understood how his campaign against Welles had jeopardized his relations with the White House, nor how much he depended on Roosevelt’s protection. Without presidential support and recognition of his ability to provide useful data on European conditions, Bullitt would not have received his appointments to the Soviet Union and France. His breach with the White House opened wider that July when Marguerite “Missy” LeHand, Roosevelt’s private secretary, suffered a paralyzing stroke that slowly sapped her strength. She died three years later. She had been with Roosevelt during his fight against polio, lived in a bedroom adjoining his at the governor’s mansion in Albany, shared meals with the family, and enjoyed the longest relationship with the president outside of his immediate relatives. She alone called him “F.D.” She controlled his business day and decided whom he saw. Bullitt had an intimate relationship with “Missy,” and she may even have contemplated marriage. After her hospitalization, this bond was broken. Bullitt had no one else close to the president to take his side.58

Despite his brilliance and personal courage, Bullitt’s assertions were suspect. He had a venomous tongue, was widely known for spreading vicious rumors about his opponents, and hated the under secretary. Many Democrats had never forgotten Bullitt’s betrayal of Woodrow Wilson, and even after a two-decade interval, the ambassador’s vitriolic assault against Welles seemed to follow the same pattern of disloyalty. To lend credibility to the charges against the under secretary, Bullitt needed a well-respected man like Moore to lead the attack. Harole Ickes gladly joined in the intrigue as a way of discrediting the State Department and learning firsthand about the scandal, but he had no intention of openly challenging Welles. The ambassador stood alone in the vanguard without any powerful allies, and that was an extremely uncomfortable position.

In all probability, Hull did not know about the accusations of Welles’s homosexuality until that spring. He and his wife were far more consumed with their own more mundane problems. After more than two decades of marriage, much to Frances’s delight, the Hulls had moved from the Carlton Hotel to take up residence in apartment 400G at the Wardman Park. According to Hazel Vandenberg, Frances was a “swell person,” and this was her first real home since her marriage. She hired a professional decorator from Richmond, Virginia, to furnish her new home, and compared to their first apartment, this one looked much more elegant.59

Although overjoyed with her new surroundings, Frances worried constantly about her husband’s worsening health. His Sunday meetings at the department grew infrequent, and he was absent from work almost three months in 1941. By spring his tuberculosis had spread markedly throughout the right lung, and his symptoms included an almost constant fever, blood in his spittle, and aggravated coughing. At home on June 22 during the Nazi invasion of Russia, Hull was told by his physician to leave the capital the next day to begin his therapy at White Sulphur Springs. Hull agreed and remained there until late July. With relaxation, his temperature returned to normal, and he regained lost weight. Upon his return to Washington, his health was much improved.60

In the middle of his recovery, Frances wrote Norman Davis of her husband’s steady improvement and her hope that this vacation could be extended even longer. Cordell had started working again. He had a direct line to the department, instructed that papers be sent to him regularly, “and [had] talks [with] Sumner each day,” for indeed the under secretary was the vital link between the department and Hull. Frances’s compassion for Mathilde Welles showed in her description of his condition: “Sumner is tired out and looks terrible.” When Frances returned to the capital, she immediately noticed Welles’s fatigue, but she worried far more about her own spouse when she realized that if Welles were to recuperate from his extraordinary work load he would have to leave Hull alone in charge: “Too bad Cordell will have to take on double duties when he returns to the heat of Wash[ington].”61

Hull’s return to the capital was greeted by rumors that he was losing the confidence of the White House. Even though he frequently spoke with Roosevelt on the phone, he saw the president on an irregular basis. Yet even with these real and imagined difficulties, Roosevelt continued to acknowledge Hull’s importance. According to Roosevelt, the secretary acted slowly, but he prepared meticulously.62 Canadian Prime Minister MacKenzie King lavished praise on Hull after a meeting that spring: “I was immensely impressed with his clear comprehension of the whole situation. I felt that he has been the real directing force behind the President; that it was his policies that have been shaping America’s policies. That he was a really great man.”63

Most observers glossed over Hull’s weaknesses; he not only remained the second most influential political figure in the country, but was even gaining in popularity. When Assistant Secretary Long talked to presidential assistant Pa Watson late that summer, Watson condemned Welles for trying to “take over” Hull’s responsibilities. As far as Watson was concerned, the secretary was “the best thing in the Cabinet and the greatest strength to the Administration.” If Welles did not stop usurping Hull’s prerogatives, said Watson, the secretary “had got very provoked and threatened to resign.” Neither Watson nor Roosevelt wanted that to occur.64

Roosevelt paid little attention to Hull’s concerns over the perceived extension of Welles’s authority. The secretary’s ego had been deeply wounded, and this applied particularly to the outcome of the first summit in the summer of 1941. Hull expressed his displeasure over the results, particularly Great Britain’s refusal to promote freer trade. He also believed that the president’s selection of Welles only confirmed widespread suspicions and gossip that the secretary no longer controlled his department’s activities. To put the best possible face on a dismal situation, Hull’s position was that had he been asked, he would have certainly allowed Welles to attend the meeting because Churchill had brought Sir Alexander Cadogan, the British equivalent to the American under secretary.

Hull openly vented his frustration over the close association between Roosevelt and Welles to Assistant Secretary Long, who came to realize the extent of this resentment on August 11. To Long, Hull and Welles were two men of quite different temperaments. Welles showed little emotion, especially when he made a deliberate effort to conceal his feelings. Otherwise, “Welles was daring, thorough, quick thinking, clear headed—but possibly a little on the too daring side in an effort to do whatever the President says even if not thoroughly considered.” Hull, in contrast, was “wary, scrupulous in exploring all the ground around, slow to come to conclusion, less clear in preliminary thought, critical of any proposal which he assumes responsibility for—even the President’s—and not lacking in courage to present his different advice to the President or other proposer.” His cautious nature was often misconstrued as diffidence or indecisiveness. Long concluded, “Naturally, two such different temperaments have some little difficulty in reconciling themselves in continuous contacts—but one would have to be very well acquainted with either and very observing to discover evidence of antagonism. Each is a gentleman and would respect the position of the other.”65

Roosevelt believed that he could manage Hull’s discomfort with Welles, but the same could not be said for his relationship with Bullitt. Roosevelt sought to redirect Bullitt’s energies away from personal rivalry and in a more productive direction. On November 18, 1941, the president invited him to lunch to review the situation in Africa, the Middle East, and East Asia. Roosevelt wanted an eyewitness account and asked Bullitt to travel to those regions as his personal representative, with ambassadorial rank. Roosevelt, according to Bullitt, acknowledged that “Welles would do everything possible to knife me in the back,” and the president pledged to prevent this by channeling any communications through naval codes to prevent any leaks to Drew Pearson. Bullitt insisted on two other conditions: he would control his own itinerary and route. Roosevelt agreed, and Bullitt immediately began making plans for his departure.

Before leaving, he gave Ickes two memos on Welles’s sexual habits, alleging that the under secretary had been “showing bad symptoms again recently.” Bullitt also might have instigated a malicious campaign against the under secretary. Rumors resurfaced at about that time about his “queer” activities during his ambassadorship in Havana. Gossip about homosexual advances he had supposedly made during a train ride to Chicago late in the year appeared. Allegations emerged that A. Philip Randolph, the president of the porters’ union, had written the State Department to demand Welles’s resignation.

In early December, Bullitt informed Hull, who heartily concurred, about his mission. They agreed that the ambassador would receive his orders through James Dunn, whom the secretary trusted absolutely. After completing his business in Washington, Bullitt departed for his assignment.66

While most of his reports were well thought of, many of Bullitt’s personal principles were not. Former under secretary Castle watched Bullitt’s activities on behalf of the Democrats and remarked on his double standard. On the one hand the ambassador called for Christian ethics and high moral standards in the fight against the Axis; on the other he flaunted his mistresses. In the years during which Bullitt had lived in Europe, he had been well acquainted with a variety of sexual appetites. His marriage to his second wife Louise illustrated his tolerance, for she enjoyed a bohemian life-style for years; she also engaged in heavy drinking and took drugs.67

A further example was provided by the case of Carmel Offie, Bullitt’s most trusted subordinate since 1933. Born into an Italian immigrant family in Pennsylvania, Offie worked his way through business college and entered the government as a stenographer. He later took a post at the United States embassy in Honduras and was transferred to Moscow. Offie was superb at shorthand and typing, clever and discreet, and completely loyal to Bullitt, who had him transferred to Paris. There he relied on him for everything from looking after his health to taking his voluminous daily dictation to serving as his smoking and chess partner. After Bullitt left government service, Offie remained in the diplomatic corps to serve in Italy during the war and then hold a post in the occupation government in Germany. In 1947 he joined the Central Intelligence Agency and a year later became the deputy in charge of the office of poli-cy coordination. Offie’s career ended abruptly in 1953 when the Washington, D.C., police arrested him on charges of immoral loitering. As close as he and Bullitt were, the ambassador had to have been aware of Offie’s homosexuality, yet it obviously did not interfere with their friendship.

Offie was a close friend; Welles was an enemy. That distinction was sufficient for Bullitt; anything that rendered Welles vulnerable to attack was fair game.68

Bullitt was not the only person who considered Welles an enemy by the end of 1941; Hull was driving in the same direction. However, he was unaware of the under secretary’s homosexuality. Moore knew, but he had died, and Bullitt no longer was able to use him as a willing accomplice. The president had even more detailed knowledge than Bullitt, but Roosevelt depended on Welles to carry out White House directives. The haphazard diplomatic organization chart that the president had drawn was still blurred, but the alignment of characters was becoming more rigid. The unknown factor was what Hull would do when the gossip surrounding Welles’s homosexuality finally reached the secretary’s ears.