TEMPEST IN A TEA POT

 

It was a “Tempest” worthy of William Shakespeare only because Albert Bacon Fall (above) was a scoundrel of Shakespearian proportions, a self made legal sorcerer and a bombastic, selfish, and vulgar cowboy Caliban.  His villainous reputation was established by a mysterious double murder in the New Mexico desert.

But the climax was staged adjacent to a 75 foot tall sandstone butte (above) some thought resembled a tea pot, which gave its name to the scandal which finally brought our reprobate down. But the true scandal was Albert Fall's entire greedy life.

“You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse.”

Caliban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act I, Scene 2

Near the low crest of Chalk Hill (above) the search party found a patch of blood soaked sand and some papers belonging to 57 year old Republican lawyer Albert. J. Fountain.  A hundred yards further on, Mescalero Apache scouts found where a man had knelt in ambush, the casings ejected from his rifle still in the dust. 

The buggy tracks led eastward 12 miles into the Jarillas Mountains (above, bg), where the search party found Fountain's carriage “plundered and abandoned.”  Still in the buggy was a note reading, “If you drop this we will be your friends. If you go on with it you will never reach home alive.” And stuffed under the seat was a kerchief wrapped around some change, belonging to 8 year old Henry Fountain. Neither the father's nor the son's body was ever found.

“The clouds methought would open and show riches, Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's The Tempest, Act III, Scene 2

When he was a Democrat and accused of masterminding the 1896 double homicide of Albert Fountain and his 8 year old son Henry, Albert Fall said it was just Republicans trying to “crucify innocent Democrats”.  Except Fountain had just obtained criminal indictments against Albert Fall and 23 of his clients and friends.  With Fountain's murder, those cases now collapsed. 

In a courthouse jammed with the alleged killer's allies (above), threatened and intimidated witnesses simply failed to show up. There was no chance of a conviction, but Albert Fall still managed to be arrogant and offensive in his one sided victory. The Democrats were both (above, foreground) found not guilty. And then, two years later, Albert Fall switched parties and became a Republican. And all his friends found it profitable to go with him.

“I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island; And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II, Scene 2

After having fought statehood for years as a Democrat, in 1912  when statehood came, newly minted Republican Albert Fall became one of New Mexico's first elected U.S. Senators.  In Washington, D.C., Albert became famous for two things - his alcohol fueled poker parties with Ohio Senator Warren G. Harding, and his unrelenting animosity toward Democratic President Woodrow Wilson. 

When the racist Wilson suffered a stroke in 1919, Albert alleged he had been rendered mentally incompetent, and demanded to test the Democratic President's mental acuity.  At the  October examination, Senator Fall hypocritically assured the bedridden Wilson, “I have been praying for you, Sir.” Looking up at his torturer, Wilson inquired, “Which way, Senator?” Albert joined in the laughter, but in November of 1920 it was Senator Fall's drinking buddy, Republican Warren G. Harding who was elected President over Wilson.

“Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban, Has a new master: get a new man. Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom!”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II, Scene 2

Harding wanted Albert Fall to be his Secretary of State, but party leaders insisted on someone more trustworthy. Said Harding, “If Albert Fall isn't an honest man, I'm not fit to be President of the United States.” When the party leaders refused to back down Harding named Albert his Secretary of the Department of the Interior, a branch of government Albert had been denouncing for decades. Almost the first thing after taking the oath in the spring of 1921 (above), Secretary Fall cajoled Harding into giving him control over the U.S. Naval Oil Reserves in California and Wyoming. 

Fall (above, left)  then quickly granted a no-bid lease for the two reserves in California to oilman Edward Doheny (above, right). 

In December,  Albert (above, left) did the same for oilman Harry Ford Sinclair (above, left), granting him sole access to the Tea Pot Dome field (below) in Wyoming, also known as Naval Reserve Number Three.

“Do that good mischief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-licker.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act IV, Scene 1

In the spring of 1922, the railroad town of Casper, Wyoming, 35 miles south of the dome, was abuzz with rumors and equipment bearing the name Mammoth Oil Company which had suddenly invaded the naval reserve. Competitors like New Yorker James Darden quickly pierced that deception, and certain the lease granted to Sinclair was not legal, Colonel Darden decided to become Sinclair's unofficial partner by drilling his own well sideways, into the same dome. As Fall himself explained, “Sir, if you have a milkshake and I have a milkshake and my straw reaches across the room, I’ll end up drinking your milkshake."

“I will have none on't: we shall lose our time, And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villanous low.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act IV Scene 1

The problem for Secretary Fall was the “low down son-of-a-bitch” Darden “was an old friend of President Harding. So on a Saturday afternoon, while the Secretary of the Navy was out of the office, Fall told the the Acting Secretary that Harding wanted “squatters” thrown off the dome. Fall added there was ample legal precedent for using U.S. Marines for this duty. There was none, but Fall never showed reluctance in lying to make a profit. 

Within the week Captain George K. Shuler and four enlisted marines were slapping “No Trespassing” signs and padlocks on Colonel Darden's well. And because this was done in front of reporters, Albert Fall had finally taken one step too far.

"I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him."

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act II Scene 2

Long annoyed by Fall's arrogance, the Senate majority Republicans allowed a Democrat from Montana, Senator Thomas Walsh  to investigate the oil leases. 

And when Walsh's investigating committee (above) issued it's first subpoena for documents, Fall responded by burying Walsh in a literal truck load of paper. 

It slowed Walsh, but Darden's complaints finally caused President Harding (above) to separate himself from his old drinking buddy. In March of 1923, Albert Fall was forced to resign from the cabinet, first going to work for Harry Sinclair and then returning to his own 750,000 acre New Mexico ranch, which he called "Three Rivers".  

And then, in August of 1923, President Harding dropped dead of a heart attack. The new President, an honest prig named Calvin Coolidge (above), looking over the looming disaster, decided to make Albert  the fall guy, sacrificing him to the growing public outcry over the massive fraud that had been the Harding/Coolidge administration.

“How does thy honor? Let me lick thy shoe.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

The truck load of documents supplied to Senator Walsh provided enough heat to keep the scandal simmering for two years. Called before the committee three times Albert swore under oath - once in writing - that he had done nothing illegal.  But late in 1925 questions began to be asked about how Fall had paid for the many improvements to his Three Rivers ranch.  

When put under oath Albert's own son-in-law, M.T. Everhard, was forced to admit he had accepted $198,000 in federal bonds from Harry Sinclair's own hand,  and delivered them to Secretary Fall's own hand. There was also a no interest “loan” of $36,000 from Sinclair, and one of $100,000 in cash from Edward Doheny, the little black bag delivered to "Three Rivers Ranch"  by Edward Doheny's son Ned, and his "friend and body guard" Hugh Plunket.  

In 1927 the Supreme Court ruled the leases on all naval oil reserves were invalid, and control and profits went back to the U.S. Navy.

“First to possess his books; for without them He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command: they all do hate him, As rootedly as I — burn but his books.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III, Scene 2

When the federal case went to trial in Los Angeles in 1930. humorist Will Rodgers cracked that Doheny's defense team took up three full Pullman railroad cars. The first car was “Just for the little lawyers...to carry the brief cases.” In the third car, said Rodgers, were “the big ones that were in real touch with Mr. Doheny.”  Harry Sinclair's defense team in his Cheyenne, Wyoming trial, took up at least four Pullman cars, according to Rodgers.

Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my valiant monster would destroy thee: I do not lie.

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

Edward Doheny paid a high price for his involvement with Albert Fall. In 1929, under pressure by prosecutors for one of them to flip, Ned Doheny and Hugh Plunket died in what appeared to be a murder/suicide. Still, the next year, Edward was found not guilty of bribery. The jury even broke into song after rendering their decision. One disgusted U.S. Senator was prompted to observe, “It is impossible to convict a million dollars in the United States“   But the old oil man did not have the heart to celebrate. 

Edward Doheny (above) served just 3 months for contempt of Congress, but he never recovered from the death of his only son. He died in September of 1935, still one of the richest men in Southern California. The mansion built for the young Doheny and where the murder/suicide occurred, still stands empty in Beverly Hills, as a state park and is often used as a location for movies. 

“I'll not serve him, he is not valiant.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act III Scene 2

In Wyoming, Harry Sinclair (above) received a mistrial after it was discovered his private detectives had been shadowing members of the jury. He was never retried for the bribery, but he was sentenced to six months for contempt of court, which he served in the District of Columbia city jail. He also died one of the richest men in Southern California, in January of 1949

“What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god And worship this dull fool!”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act V Scene 1

Albert Bacon Fall was the only member of an administration awash in bribes, arrogant enough and clumsy enough to be convicted of accepting a bribe. He remains the only cabinet member in American History (so far) to be sentenced to prison for crimes committed while in office. He served nine months. When he was released in May of 1932 (above), Doheny repossessed Fall's beloved Three Rivers ranch for not repaying the bribe, for which Doheny had been found “not guilty” of paying him.

Fall died a bitter old man,  at the end of November, 1944 in his El Paso Texas mansion, still arguing to the last that his conviction was just political payback. 

I doubt that Albert and the young Henry Fountain (above), still lying decomposed somewhere out there in the New Mexico desert, would agree.

“Flout 'em and scout 'em, And scout 'em and flout 'em, Thought is free.”

Caloban - Shakespeare's “The Tempest” Act V Scene 1

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SMOKE AND MIRRORS

 

I miss the old smoke filled rooms – sometimes - when there were no passionate amateurs willing to bring on doomsday, just to shake things up. The process was dispassionate, calculated and handled by people who saw politics as a job, aided, of course, by political writers who supplied the passion in print. From such combinations, legends were born.

On April Fools Day, 1920, bland faced Ohio political manager Harry Daugherty (above) was hastily packing his bags in his room at the old Waldorf Astoria hotel on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. Into the room sauntered two reporters seeking a quote. 

They taunted Daugherty on his boastful support for the turgid and mediocre Ohio Senator, Warren G. Harding (above) for President.  Nobody else thought Harding stood a chance. The reporters wanted to know just who were these senators that Daugherty claimed would support Harding at the Republican Convention, come June? 

When Daugherty refused to take the bait, the reporters suggested he must be expecting Harding to win the nomination in some hotel back room with a small group of political managers, “reduced to pulp by the inevitable vigil and travail” of a deadlocked convention. 

Daugherty said nothing, so a reporter suggested further that Daugherty must be expecting the managers to collapse about 2:00 A.M. in a smoke filled room. Weary of the dialog, Daugherty responded off handedly, “Make it 2:11,” grabbed his bags and rushed out to catch the train back to Ohio.

The reporter turned that conversation into this quote, which he stuck into Daugherty’s mouth; “I don't expect Senator Harding to be nominated on the first, second or third ballot, but I think we can well afford to take chances that about eleven minutes after 2 o'clock on Friday morning at the convention, when fifteen or twenty men, somewhat weary, are sitting around a table, some one of them will say, "Who will we nominate?" At that decisive time the friends of Senator Harding can suggest him, and can afford to abide by the result.”

And amazingly, that is almost exactly how it really happened. Except that the back room was a suite of meeting rooms in Chicago’s Blackstone Hotel (above) at the corner of Michigan Avenue and Balboa, room numbers 408 through 410, with Room 404 set aside as the reception room.

The suite had been rented by Will Hays (above), the big-eared big-talking “mighty little ear of corn” from Indiana.  He was the Republican National Chairman, and had hopes of being President himself in 1920. And maybe the greatest compliment you can pay the professional politicians of that era is that they did not let Will Hays become President.

The Republican Convention that June was officially taking place 9 blocks south of the Blackstone hotel, in the old Chicago Coliseum (above) on South Wabash Avenue. This cavern had been home to every Republican Convention since 1904. It is worth noting that the building had originally been constructed to house a prison, Richmond’s Libby prison, bought lock, stock, and barrel by a Chicago candy millionaire and shipped north to form the centerpiece of a Civil War Museum. The museum went bust in 1899, and the owner “re-imagined” the space as a public meeting center.

It was into this den of iniquity that some 2,000 delegates and their alternates marched on Tuesday 8 June  1920, sixty years after Republicans had first met in Chicago to nominate William Seward for President, but instead chose Abraham Lincoln. It was an ominous bit of history to consider if you were General Leonard Wood or Illinois Governor Frank Lowden, as they were considered the front runners for the 1920 Republican nomination.

The dour faced Lowden (above) wanted to be president so badly that when both houses of the Illinois state legislature voted to abolish the death penalty, he had vetoed the bill, proving again that politicians are even willing to kill to win a few votes.

In contrast, Leonard Wood (above) had few political skills. He was a Medal of Honor winner who had then graduated medical school and then risen to Army Chief of Staff, and had even won the New Hampshire primary. And while little Will Hays had not entered any of the twenty primaries held that year, he still had hopes that Wood and Lowden would deadlock, and the convention would turn to the little Hoosier to break the tie.

The convention (above) finally got down to the balloting on Friday evening, 11 June , and immediately things started looking up for Hays. On the first ballot Wood led with 285 votes, Lowden showed 211, Senator Hiram Johnson, of California, a Teddy Roosevelt progressive, was third with 133 votes. Far behind was Governor William Spool of Pennsylvania with 84 votes, followed by New York’s Nicholas Butler with 69 votes and Ohio’s favorite son, Senator Warren G. Harding, who had lost in the Indiana primary and could muster just 65 votes. Six other candidates held the remaining 132 delegates.

On the second ballot Wood gained just ten votes, while Governor Lowden’s total grew by 40. But still nobody was close to the 439 votes needed to nominate. General Wood reached his peak on the fourth ballot with 314 votes, then his support started to slip, and Governor Lowden beat him with 311 votes on the fifth ballot. Still, no one seemed to be gathering enough support to win it all. And the longer this went on, the less confidence actual voters would have in the eventual choice. So the professionals stepped in and the convention adjourned for the night. The negotiations shifted to the infamous fourth floor rooms at the Blackstone hotel.

Actually political junkies were meeting all over Chicago that night, but Hays’ rooms at the Blackstone got all the publicity because that was where Associated Press reporter Kirke Simpson was working. He was there to cover Harry Daugherty, because, as you have seen, Harry was always good for a quote, even if you had to spoon feed it to him.

Also present was George Harvey, who ran Harper publishing, and Republican Senators Wadsworth, Calder, Watson, McCormick and Lodge, Utah Senator Reed Smoot, political fixer Joe Grundy, and Lawyer Charles Hillers, counsel to the R.N.C., as well as his client, R.N.C. Chief, Will Hays. Their problem was that none of them could agree upon who the party should rally around, either.

It was, by general agreement, the original “Smoke filled room”, and the 130 pound Hays was the host. Even though he neither smoked nor drank himself, Hays kept the cigars lit and the booze flowing “Neighbor”, he and once said to Herbert Hoover, “I want to be helpful.”  It was his natural instinct.

Harry Daugherty’s (left) natural instinct, on the other hand, was his drive for his man. He said of Harding (right), “I found him sunning himself, like a turtle on a log, and I pushed him into the water. “

Since the top three vote getters were not willing to compromise with each other, the Senators were now looking for “The best of the second raters.”, and Daugherty suggested that Harding was their man. There is no indication that anybody even mention Will Hays - not even Will Hays.

They dispatched a small delegation to Hardings’ room up stairs, and asked the stunned man in his pajamas if there were any embarrassing episodes in his past. Harding swallowed and said, “No”. He was lying, but that would not come out until Harding was long dead.

It wasn't as if the party managers issued orders and the party regulars fell in line. It would take five more ballots before the crowd at the colosseum would give up and hand the nomination to Harding. But as of 2:15 A.M., the decision has been made, just as Daugherty had predicted in the writer's imagination; if nobody seems to be winning, we will rally around Harding and make do.  What a way to pick a president! And it worked.

At 5 A.M. on Saturday 12 June, 1920, Kirke Simpston filed a story that included the following phrase, “Harding of Ohio was chosen by a group of men in a smoke-filled room early today.” And that is how the phrase "smoke filled room" entered the vernacular. The connotation became negative because after Warren G. Harding won in a landslide, he and his “Ohio Gang” - his buddies, including Harry Daugherty - moved to Washington D.C.  There, many of them ended up in jail, or disgraced, or at least spending a lot of the graft they had collected on lawyers.

Harding appointed Harry Daugherty (above) as his Attorney General. And after three heady years, Harry was forced to resign when his chief aide, Jess Smith, was caught taking kickbacks from bootleggers. Harry was taking kickbacks too, but the professional politicians decided not to prosecute him, the important thing was that he had retreated from public view.

Will Hays served as Hardings’ Postmaster General. But after only one year he smelled the impending scandals and got out.  In 1922 Hays took another job, running the Hays Production Code office, which set standards for on- screen morality in the Hollywood film industry. 

It was the Hays Commission which gave us forty years of married couples sleeping only in twin beds, no acknowledgement of drug use, no adultery in marriage without retribution, and endless stories with saccharin sweet "Hollywood" endings.  It was the Hays' Commission that turned Rhett Butler’s exit line as he walked out on Scarlet O’Hara into a major social crises, even though the line already appeared in one of the most widely read books in America, "Gone With the Wind".  

It seemed that Mr. Hays had built his entire career selling smoke and mirrors, and he was not going to get out of that business just because he had gotten out of politics.  But can you imagine what a disaster he would have been as President? 

                                    - 30 -