Mitchel was always an attractive and frequently an inspiring figure in municipal affairs. A typical American, of fighting stock, the grandson of a man that had battled for free Ireland and the nephew of a politician that had made his mark, Purroy Mitchel, whose face and carriage reflected the latent power of leadership, was one of those young souls at once sensitive and fiery to whom Tammany’s abuse of opportunity becomes a personal affront. More than once our paths had curiously approached each other.
Back in 1908, E. H. Outerbridge had come to my house and, as chairman of the Citizens’ Committee in the current campaign, urged me to accept the fusion nomination for President of the Borough of Manhattan. My answer was:
“President of the Board of Aldermen—yes, but no administrative office.”
“I’m sorry,” said Outerbridge, “but the man for that place has already been determined upon. He is John Purroy Mitchel.”
Had that answer been different, the entire course of my life would have been changed, for the whole Fusion ticket was elected, with the exception of the man at the head of it, Otto Bannard, who was defeated by Judge Gaynor. Mitchel became President of the Board of Aldermen.
Then again, while in that office, his life touched mine.
In 1912, he sought me in much such a quandary as that in which he was to find himself in 1917. He had been offered, and wanted to know whether he should accept, the presidency of a struggling mortgage-guarantee company in Queens County. He was evidently influenced to come to me because I had been prominently identified with the Lawyers’ Mortgage Co. of New York.
This was then my advice:
“It would be a good thing for you to get out of politics for a while and give the next few years to accumulating a competency. After that, you can reënter politics, inspired by business experience and free from money cares, but this mortgage guarantee company is not what you should go into. Your talents and special training as Commissioner of Accounts could be much better utilized in some established industrial enterprise. I think I can arrange to have you made the vice-president of the Underwood Typewriter Company.” I promptly took up the matter and arranged an interview between Mitchel and Mr. John T. Underwood, with the result that the former was offered the vice-presidency I have referred to, with the sole proviso that he must pledge himself to hold the position, and refrain from politics for at least five years. Mitchel hesitated and the old maxim came true: “He who hesitates is lost.” His political acumen informed him that the succeeding autumn would offer him the best if not the only chance to become Mayor of his native city. Devotion to good government and a burning desire to displace Tammany were his ruling passions: he disregarded material considerations, declined the Underwood offer, and remained in politics.
But our fates were not yet divorced. In the spring of 1913 ex-President Roosevelt held a meeting of some leading Progressives at his office to agree on a fusion slate for the next New York Municipal election. It was planned to put forward a candidate who would attract all shades of voters but who was opposed to Tammany Hall. Charles S. Aronstam, who attended the caucuses representing the Progressives of Brooklyn, writes me this account of that gathering: