Saturday, December 31, 2016

Grover Cleveland (No. 24) - Bourne, MA



October 29, 2016

Portrait of Grover Cleveland by Anders Zorn
A 138-foot-long, iron-hulled yacht bobs slowly at anchor in Long Island Sound. Below deck a man, clad only in underwear, is sprawled unconscious on a wooden chair, his head thrown back, his mouth gaping. Several men loom over him. Finally one man digs a metal tool into the unconscious man’s mouth. There is blood everywhere. 

The man in the chair is President Grover Cleveland. The year is 1893. The man with the cruel tool is Dr. Joseph Bryant, of New York. He and a team of five doctors are removing a cancerous growth from the roof of Cleveland’s mouth. 

But why on a boat and not a hospital?

Because Cleveland did not want anyone to know he had cancer. The public had recently witnessed the very public suffering and eventual death of former President Ulysses S. Grant from throat cancer.  Cleveland thought that if the public knew he had cancer, it would weaken him politically. 

And the summer of 1893 was a sensitive time. 

The Panic of 1893 struck shortly after Cleveland’s second election in 1892. The overbuilt railroad industry bubble had popped and 119 railroads were in or about to enter bankruptcy. Prices were falling and unemployment was rising — eventually to 20%.  There was also a gold shortage.

Cleveland had called for a special session of Congress on Aug. 7 to consider repealing former President Benjamin Harrison’s Silver Act.  Because silver could be redeemed as gold one to one, and because silver was much more available than gold, there were fears that gold reserves would fall below $100 million. This squeezed the money supply, further depressing prices.

Matthew Algeo describes the surgery and its aftermath in his excellent book:  The President is a Sick Man: Wherein the Supposedly Virtuous Grover Cleveland Survives a Secret Surgery at Sea and Vilifies the Courageous Newspaperman Who Dared Expose the Truth. In late June 1893, Cleveland rode a special Pullman car attached to the end of the New York Express from Washington, D.C., to New York City. He boarded a launch in Lower Manhattan and was carried to the Oneida, a swift racing yacht supplemented by a steam engine, owned by his friend, Elias Benedict.  

The Oneida sailed into Long Island Sound, and Cleveland was prepared for the surgery.  Fortunately for Cleveland, Joseph Lister had recently convinced doctors to sterilize their medical instruments and wash their hands before surgery so there was now less danger of infection than in the time of President Garfield. (It was infection, not the bullet itself, that finally killed Garfield two months after the assassination attempt in 1881.)

At around noon on July 1, the doctors seated Cleveland in the wooden chair and administered nitrous oxide to knock him out.  The doctors wanted to avoid using ether, a more powerful anesthetic, because it was more dangerous for the overweight Cleveland and because the fumes from ether were highly flammable, especially in the confined space below deck.  But nitrous oxide did not keep the president unconscious for long and the doctors had to switch to ether.  The operation, which included removing part of Cleveland’s upper left jaw, took about 1.5 hours. Cleveland recovered on the boat until July 5 and finally arrived at his summer home on Buzzards Bay near Bourne, Mass.  The home was called Gray Gables. 

* * *
Entrance to Gray Gables Community

In the autumn of 2016, we traveled to Bourne to find Gray Gables. We knew that the original summer home had burned down in 1973 and that a residential home, similar but smaller, had been built on the site. As we rolled into town, we saw signs pointing us to Gray Gables.  It turns out that Gray Gables is now a residential community.  At the entrance to the community we found a rock with a plaque telling us that the town had built a train station specifically for Cleveland’s use on this site.  All that remains is a pump with the date “1892” inscribed on the concrete base. The train station had been moved. 

Gray Gables
Gray Gables View of Buzzard's Bay
We finally found the house on – surprise – President’s Road. The house, which faces Buzzard’s Bay, is quite a bit smaller than the original that burned down in 1973. The sign on the front said it was for sale and that a contract had been signed. It also told us to “Keep Out.”  We hopped the barrier anyway.  The house didn’t look occupied. Tom edged up to the house and took some photos.



* * *

Cleveland didn’t inform his vice president, Adlai Stevenson, who was opposed to the repeal of the Silver Act, about the surgery. Dan Lamont, his secretary of war and a close friend, knew. Lamont told reporters that Cleveland had suffered an attack of rheumatism. Rumors of a tumor in his mouth did arise, but reporters were told he had a toothache.

Cleveland returned to Washington on Aug. 4 in time for the special session of Congress.  He left again on Aug. 11 to go back to Gray Gables to further recover.

In spite of the secrecy, one of the doctors mentioned the operation to a colleague. A young Philadelphia Press reporter named E.J. Edwards picked up the scent and broke the story on Aug. 28. A competitor newspaper, the Philadelphia Times, sought to discredit the story. It reported that the operation was a tooth extraction and nothing more. Cleveland — who once said, “Whatever you do, tell the truth” — wrote a letter to a friend that stated:  “… the story of an important surgical operation is thoroughly discredited.”  It wasn’t until 1917 that the truth finally came out.  That year, one of the doctors (William Williams Keen) published the story of the operation and confirmed that E.J. Edwards’ story of 24 years earlier was correct.

* * *
The Train Station
Peeking in the Window
We accidentally found the train station, which had been moved to the nearby Aptucxet Trading Post site. The station is a small, yellow building with brown trim and a red roof. Unfortunately, it was closed, but we peeked in the window and saw railroad paraphernalia including a sign announcing the one-hour and sixteen-minute commute on the “Cranberry” to Boston. In front of the building is a single section of track, about 50 feet long.  The station was only used during Cleveland’s presidency and included a telegraph line directly to Washington, D.C. After Cleveland’s term ended, the station was used as a flag stop.

We also tried to track down the Cleveland Lighthouse but discovered it was located on top of Cleveland ledge — two miles offshore.

Lunch at the Lobster Trap
For lunch we hit the delightful Lobster Trap restaurant along the water, a long wooden building with exposed beams.  Lobster and other fishing paraphernalia were attached to the beams, including buoys, oars, lobster traps, the frame of a boat and a large ball of rope. Cathy wrestled with the dilemma of having lobster for both lunch and dinner.  She finally settled on a seafood bisque—thick and creamy and full of lobster and shrimp — and scallops. Tom went for the lobster roll, knowing Cathy would try it.

* * *

After his surgery, President Cleveland was able to influence the vote on the Silver Act at full political strength. On Aug. 28, the House voted to repeal the bill. The Senate debate then began, but lawmakers did not hold a vote until Oct. 30 because the pro silver states held the chamber hostage with a 62-day filibuster. The Congressional Record of the debate took up five volumes and 20 million pages.  Nevertheless, the Silver Purchase Act was repealed.  (Notably, William Jennings Bryan, a relatively unknown congressman at the time, gave an eloquent speech on behalf of the pro-silver side and launched a long political career.)

Grover and Frances Cleveland stopped going to Gray Gables after the death of their child Ruth in 1904 when she was only 12 years old. They just couldn’t bear to go there anymore. 

Some other highlights of Grover Cleveland’s second presidency were:

·       In 1893, Cleveland had the opportunity to annex Hawaii when Queen Liliuokalani was overthrown by local planters led by Sanford Dole, but Cleveland refused. Because of that, Hawaiians admire him and have named things after him.  (The next president, William McKinley did annex Hawaii.)

·       Cleveland dealt harshly with the 1894 Pullman Palace Car strike and ordered troops to Chicago to break the strike.

·       On Sept. 9, 1893, Frances had a baby (Esther), the first presidential baby born in the White House.

Cleveland at Princeton
By the end of his second term, Cleveland was very unpopular because of the nation’s continuing economic woes. He spent his final years at Princeton University, where he and Frances bought a home in 1897. He became a beloved figure to the students, who would often parade to his home after games or debates. And he would join the students in their cheers. He died there in 1908 and is buried at Nassau Presbyterian Church.  Frances eventually remarried and died in 1947.

Directions

Bourne is in southern Massachusetts about a one-hour drive from Providence, R.I., or Boston.

References

Algeo, Matthew, 2011.  The President is a Sick Man:  Wherein the Supposedly Virtuous Grover Cleveland Survives a Secret Surgery at Sea and Vilifies the Courageous Newspaperman Who Dared Expose the Truth.  Chicago Review Press, Chicago, IL.

Carter, Graydon.  2010.  Vanity Fair’s Presidential Profiles.  Abrams, New York, NY.

Furgurson, Ernest.  2013.  Moment of Truth.  American History.  October 2013.  pp. 64-68.

Moore, K.  2007.  The American President.  Fall River Press.  New York, New York.

Riccards, M.P.  1995.  The Ferocious Engine of Democracy.  Madison Books.  Lanham, MD

Smith, Carter.  2005.  Presidents:  Every Question Answered.  Metro Books.  New York, NY.

Videos

History Channel.  2005.  The Presidents:  The Lives and Legacies of the 43 Leaders of the United States.

Websites

www.bournehistoricalsociety.org

http://etcweb.princeton.edu/CampusWWW/Companion/cleveland_grover.html



http://www.ushistory.org/us/44b.asp

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Benjamin Harrison (No. 23) – Indianapolis
June 18, 2016

Introduction
Benjamin Harrison,
President No. 23.

Benjamin Harrison was the centennial president, taking office exactly 100 years after George Washington. The young country had come a long way. The United States had grown from 11 states and 3.8 million people in 1789 to 38 states and 61.5 million people by 1889. Now one of the world’s most powerful nations, the country was just a decade away from the start of the “American Century.”

On a lighter note, Harrison was also the last in a long line of similar-looking bearded presidents. Who can really identify the ancient visages of Rutherford B. Hayes, James Garfield and Benjamin Harrison? They all hid behind thick gray beards. After Harrison, only Grover Cleveland, Teddy Roosevelt and William Howard Taft would have any facial hair at all. 

* * *

Harrison was born on Aug. 20, 1833, in Ohio. He and his new bride, Caroline Scott, came to Indianapolis, a bustling, growing city, in 1854, where young Harrison began a law practice.  

Harrison was religious and became a deacon in the First Presbyterian Church. Guided by his religious views, he believed slavery in any form to be unjust. He soon joined the newly formed Republican Party and moved up its hierarchy. He became secretary of the Republican State Central Committee in 1858 and in 1860 won election as a Supreme Court reporter.

Once the Civil War began, Harrison left his wife and two children (Mary and Russell), enlisted and raised troops to form the Indiana 70th regiment. He was made a full colonel in August 1862. Prior to his troops’ participation in the 1864 Battle of Resaca (GA), which was to include hand to hand combat, Harrison wrote his wife: 

I send up to God this night that should you lose a husband and they a father in the fight that you may find abundant consolation... but let your grief be tempered by the consolation that I died for my country and in Christ. If God gives me strength I mean to bear myself bravely, and come what will, so that you may have no cause to blush for me, though you should be forced to mourn.”  (http://www.presidentbenjaminharrison.org/13-learn/benjamin-harrison/45-civil-war)

After Harrison’s troops participated in General Sherman’s Atlanta campaign, Lincoln  —whom Harrison admired greatly — promoted him to Brevet Brigadier General. Throughout the rest of his life, Harrison preferred to be called General Harrison, because he believed his fight to save the Union in the Civil War was more significant than his presidency.

Once the war ended, Harrison joined an Indianapolis law firm and enjoyed much success.  It was the money that Harrison made as a lawyer that allowed him to spend $28,000 in 1874 — $560,000 in today’s money — to build his family’s 16-room mansion. 

* * *

The Harrison home.
We arrive in Indianapolis on a warm June day and drive our rental car to Harrison’s Italianate-style home on the historic part of Delaware Avenue. At the small visitor’s center/museum adjacent to the home, we tell the middle-aged woman who greets us that we want to learn about the history and politics of Harrison and his accomplishments rather than just about the house’s furnishings, which is the type of information we usually get on tours. She picks up her cell phone and texts her husband, who is at that moment giving a house tour, to let him know our request. She assures us that he is a history buff and will give us a great tour. 

Soon said husband shows up to collect our group of about six people. Before we leave the visitor’s center, he stop in front of a large black and white photograph of dozens of mostly men gathered around the front of Harrison’s home. Harrison can be seen standing by the door. Our guide explains that Harrison was one of the first presidential candidates to use the “front porch” campaign, when he met supporters and gave speeches on his front porch or inside the house. One of the downsides was that the picket fence surrounding the home disappeared because people stole the pickets off the fence as souvenirs following the campaign speeches.

As our group walks the short distance to the front of the house, our guide explains that Harrison built the house in 1874. Then we enter the front door.  He introduces us to another guide, Robin, who takes over our group from him. We had gotten perhaps five minutes of his time. So much for the history deep dive! 

But Robin turns out to be an engaging and informative tour guide. She takes us from room to room on the first floor pointing out interesting items:
Reginaphone and copper
music disk.
·      In the parlor, stands a Reginaphone — a giant music box that plays interchangeable large copper disks. It still plays sweet music as Robin demonstrates the still functional machine.  But she points out that the Reginaphone now has speakers.
·      The kitchen contains an “ice box” that consists of a segmented box with a front swing door. On one side went the ice and on the other, the food. The melted ice needed to be replaced periodically. The fridge has a modern look except it isn’t electric.
Caroline's artwork.
·      The Harrisons were the first family in the White House to have electricity. They liked it so much, Benjamin had it added to the mansion when he returned after the presidency. But the electricity also scared them, so they had a servant whose job it was to turn the lights on and off.
·      Robin also shows us paintings created by Harrison’s wife, Caroline, that now hang on the formal dining room wall. Caroline, who was an accomplished artist, relaxed by painting. She designed the White House china for Harrison’s term, although she did not paint it herself. She was also the first first lady to realize the value of all the stored White House china and was responsible for having it all catalogued.

"Touch the bannisters!"
Robin shoos us up to the second floor. She encourages us to “touch the banisters” and be aware that President Harrison had also touched said banisters. More rooms.

Upstairs museum.
Then we move up to the third floor, which used to be a ballroom but is now a museum. Although the floor is full of more displays than the museum at the visitor’s center, we are given only about 10 minutes to explore it.

* * *

Harrison became a larger presence in Indiana’s Republican Party. During the Republican Convention of 1880, Harrison persuaded the Indiana delegates to back James Garfield for president after more than 30 ballots. The next year, Harrison was elected to the U.S. Senate.

When the election of 1888 rolled around, it was Harrison himself who was nominated on the eighth ballot.  His opponent was Grover Cleveland, running for his second term.

As we mentioned above, Harrison ran a front porch campaign, with groups coming to visit his house to hear him speak. He eventually switched to a nearby park because of the large crowds (and perhaps because his fence had been stolen for souvenirs.)  He gave more than 90 speeches to a total of 300,000 people. The speeches were published in the newspapers the next day.

Giant metal campaign
ball.
The Harrison campaign even re-created grandfather William Henry Harrison’s giant ball covered with campaign slogans to “keep the ball rolling.” Only this time, instead of a paper ball, it was a metal ball — perhaps 15 feet in diameter — with the inscription: 

"Old Allegany in 1840 started the ball for Harrison;
In '88 as they did then, We roll it on for Gallant Ben.
Roll along, Roll away,
Keep the ball in motion;
The spirit of our men is up from Rocky Hills to Ocean."

The election was tight and marred by trickery and fraud. The Republican Party tricked the British minister into supporting Grover Cleveland on the tariff issue. That prompted Irish American voters, who couldn’t stand anything the British did, to vote against Cleveland in New York. There were also allegations of the GOP of buying votes, and the Democrats suppressing black votes in the South.  Just another American election…

It ended up being a close contest that Harrison actually lost by 100,000 votes. But Harrison won more of the big states. He squeaked by in his home state of Indiana by 0.4 percent and in New York by only 1.1 percent. But he clobbered Cleveland in the Electoral College, 223 to 168, which was what mattered. The Republican Party also won both houses of Congress. It was the first time since 1875 that the same party had won the presidency and both chambers.

President Harrison — and the Republican 51st Congress — passed 531 public laws, the most until Teddy Roosevelt’s tenure of 1901-1909. It was known as the lavishly spending “Billion Dollar Congress.” Gone was the conservatism of the Democrats. 

Harrison signed the Silver Purchase Act requiring the Treasury to purchase $4.5 million ounces of silver every month. This was a political move to placate the silver mining interests in the Western states. 

Harrison also signed the Sherman Antitrust Act, the first law to target monopolies that worked to illegally restrain trade or commerce. This law is still in existence and still rigorously enforced.

Because of his service in the Civil War, Harrison was a strong supporter of the veterans. In 1891, he signed a pension-spending bill that raised the cost of pension payments to $144M/year. This was 40 percent of the national budget!

Another contentious issue continued to be tariffs. Harrison and the Republican Party supported tariff-based protectionism. Harrison signed the McKinley Tariff Bill, which helped to bring in money but hit consumers hard in the wallet. (It would also cost the Republicans control of the House in the mid-term elections of 1890.)

The protective tariffs were supposed to protect wages and jobs, but workers did not see those benefits. By 1892, there were strikes throughout the nation. At the Carnegie Steel Works in Homestead, PA, strikers fought with Pinkerton security agents, leaving 12 dead and 60 wounded.

The snowy fields of Wounded Knee,
December 1890.
Harrison’s term saw the end of Indian resistance in a few final tragic bloody spasms. In December 1890, one of the most infamous of these events took place. The Indians on the Sioux reservation in South Dakota began to take part in the “ghost dance,” a ceremony that the Indians believed would bring back their ancestral spirits to help them chase the whites from their land. Nervous Indian agents called out the Seventh Cavalry  But when the Seventh tried to disarm them, some resisted. Firing broke out.  When the shooting stopped, more than 150 Lakota Sioux — men, women, and children — lay scattered in the snowy fields. Twenty-five soldiers also died, many by friendly fire. The location was Wounded Knee Creek. Harrison wrote the commanding general to “relieve responsible officers” for “any unsoldierly conduct.” Instead, 20 soldiers received Medals of Honor. In 1893, the Seventh Cavalry raised money and dedicated a monument to themselves.
— the same cavalry that had lost badly to the Sioux at the Battle of Little Big Horn 14 years earlier. With the imminent arrival of the Seventh Cavalry, many of the Indians fled the reservation to the Badlands of South Dakota. The Seventh pursued. When the cavalry found the Indians, things were initially peaceful.

Adding to the woes, there persisted in the country a strong anti-immigrant sentiment. In 1891, 11 Italian-Americans were lynched in New Orleans by an angry mob that believed them guilty of killing a policeman. It was the largest mass lynching in the United States. In 1892, there was a cholera scare; public officials traced the outbreak to vessels carrying Russian Jews and quarantined all ships coming from Europe into New York Harbor. Nobody wanted the passengers to enter the United States, and they continued to live (and die) aboard the vessels in squalid conditions. Also in 1892, Harrison extended the Chinese Exclusion Act, originally signed by Chester Arthur in 1882, for 10 more years.  (And at this writing in 2016, anti-immigrant sentiment is once again going strong.)

Throughout his life as well as during his presidency, Harrison supported black voting rights. He knew it would take a great deal of time to wipe out the ingrained prejudices of the day. “The prejudices of generations are not like marks upon the blackboard, that can be rubbed out with a sponge. These are more like the deep glacial lines that the years have left in the rock;  but the water, when that surface is exposed to its quiet, gentle, and perpetual influence, wears even these out, until the surface is smooth and uniform,” he said. Toward that end, he appointed the formerly enslaved Frederick Douglass as ambassador to Haiti. But after the 1890 mid-term elections, the Voting Rights election bill that he supported died in the new Democratic Congress.

Harrison loved the outdoors and in 1891 and pushed Congress to pass the Forest Reserve Act. It gave the President the authority to create forest reserves to protect pristine forests from development. He set aside Forest Reserve lands 17 times during his administration.  Harrison also established three national parks and one historical park:  Sequoia National Park, Yosemite National Park, General Grant National Park (now part of Kings Canyon National Park) and Sitka National Historical Park.

To relax, Harrison liked to write to his wife’s niece, Mame Dimick. When she visited — which was often — Harrison and Mame would go for long walks. In 1889 she moved into the White House to help Caroline with her first lady duties. Daughter Mary felt something amiss and resented Harrison’s attention to Mame. In a note to her husband she wrote, “I freely confess that I so thoroughly despise the woman that I can not form an unbiased opinion nor a wise one.”

 

Harrison was renominated by the Republican Party in 1892. But tragedy struck — Caroline became ill with tuberculosis and Harrison didn’t have the heart or energy to campaign much. The nation was concerned with her health. At the house we saw displayed a neatly written letter from 12-year-old Helen Keller sending “tender sympathy” to Caroline. But Caroline did not survive and died on Oct. 25, 1892.


And Harrison lost the election to Grover Cleveland 277-145.

* * *

Lunch at the Penn & Palate.
After the tour, we walk a few blocks to a little restaurant called the Penn & Palate, a play on writers & artists, as well as its location on Pennsylvania St (and 16th).  It is cute, with taupe/purply walls and high ceilings, pictures of the owners’ artist and writer friends on the walls. Cathy devours a turkey melt — turkey was piled high on multigrain, with caramelized onion, homemade apricot preserves and melted brie (but importantly, not too much brie).  Tom works his way through a disappointing “Meridian Bean Salad,” four types of beans with lettuce and a vinaigrette. 

Our young waitress is covered in tattoos, some self-applied. Apparently it is possible to use a needle and ink and make drawings on your arms. One of the self-applied tattoos reads, “Shining.” Stephen King? On one of her swings to the table, Tom asks her, “Did you move here to be closer to the Benjamin Harrison home?” “No,” she replies, “it’s just one of the perks of living here.”

* * *

Our next mission is to find the Harrison family. We drive a few miles northeast to the Crown Hill Cemetery — huge, beautiful grounds that unfortunately are marred by an ugly and tacky bright blue fountain at the entrance. We finally locate the family buried in a shady plot under a big oak tree halfway up a hill.

The family plot minus
daughter Mary.
Garden and shrubbery, and of course an American flag, border the family plot. Interestingly, Harrison’s burial monument stresses “lawyer and publicist,” then his service in the civil war, then the rest of it, with his presidency last.

Harrison and his second family.
Harrison is buried with his two wives on either side. (Yes, Harrison did marry Mame. It was April 6, 1896.  He was 62 years old and she was 37, one month younger than daughter Mary. They had one daughter.) Each plot is covered with plants on top and surrounded by mulch.

Harrison’s son, Russell, is also buried there, but not Mary — probably because she cut off ties with Harrison following his marriage to Mame. 

* * *

The Canal Walk.
After our house and cemetery visits, we head into downtown Indy to check into our hotel and then explore. We spend an hour at the Eiteljorg Museum of American Indians and Western Art before it closes (conveniently free that day) learning about American Indians and early photography of the Grand Canyon. Then we spend the early evening walking along the city’s Downtown Canal. We find a shady spot and nap while families pedal boats on the canal. Bridal parties and couples stroll along the Canal Walk, a three-mile loop. After our nap, we explore a bit of the nearby White River trail, which Cathy seriously eyes for a run — if only she had more time.

Dinner at the Weber Grill.
Weber Grill!
For dinner, we find the Weber Grill, a restaurant on North Illinois Street a block from Monument Circle featuring all foods charcoaled on Weber grills. We eat outside, so we can enjoy people watching, the nice weather, and the gigantic burnt orange grill attached to the side of the building. We both order tasty Beer Can Chicken, made with Weber spices and coming with a side of garlic mashed potatoes.

We stroll to Monument Circle to gawk at the Indiana State Soldiers & Sailors Monument, an enormous 284-ft tall limestone structure—it’s only 15 feet shorter than the Statue of Liberty. It even has an observation deck accessible by a mix of an elevator and stairs, but it was closed. The base is surrounded by sculptures including two large scenes called “War and Peace.”  Even a statue of Harrison’s grandfather is included.  President Harrison attended the cornerstone laying ceremony on August 22, 1889.   
284-ft. tall Indiana State
Soldiers & Sailors Monument.

Bear hug at the South Bend
Chocolate Cafe.
Monument Circle is a very popular late-night hangout and a fine place to eat ice cream. We hit the South Bend Chocolate Cafe across from the monument for some Cappuccino Crunch and the Indianapolis version of Moose Tracks. All the outdoor seating is taken in front of the cafe, which also features candy, chocolate and hot chocolate, so we walk across the street and sit on the steps of the monument with dozens of others.

Directions and Hours

The Benjamin Harrison Presidential Site is located at 1230 North Delaware Street, Indianapolis, IN 46202.  It is open Monday through Saturday from 10 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. During June and July it is also open on Sunday from noon to 3:30 p.m. 

The admission is $10 for adults and $5 for children.

References

Calhoun, C.W.  2005.  Benjamin Harrison.  The American Presidents.  Arthur J. Schlesinger, Jr., General Editor.  Times Books, Henry Holt Company.  New York, NY.

Current, R.N., T.H. Williams, and F. Freidel.  1975.  American History:  A Survey.  Fourth Edition.  Volume II:  Since 1865.  Alfred A. Knopf.  New York, NY.

Moore, K.  2007.  The American President.  Fall River Press.  New York, New York.

The Top 10 Political Dynasties, American History, April 2016  Vol 51, No 1.  P. 412.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soldiers%27_and_Sailors%27_Monument_(Indianapolis)