The Oath

Feilan sat in an inconspicuous seat in the back row, watching the group's profiles, and smiled to himself.

He could already imagine how spectacular their expressions would be in a moment.

"Feilan."

A voice from behind interrupted his thoughts.

Feilan turned and saw Helen walking toward him along the aisle of the stands.

Behind her were members of the Roosevelt Family.

Taddy, following behind, immediately frowned. He stopped and demanded, "Helen, I let the last dinner slide, but can you explain why he's here again?"

The other family members also gave Feilan strange looks.

Feilan knew that look all too well. It was the particular indifference upper-class society reserved for people who were not supposed to exist.

"Taddy, Uncle Franklin invited Feilan here. If you need an explanation, go ask Uncle yourself."

Taddy's brow furrowed even deeper, but he said nothing more.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Feilan?"

Just then, someone approached from another direction.

Feilan looked over. The man was in his forties, of average build, dressed in a meticulously tailored dark gray overcoat. He was none other than Arthur Ballantine, Assistant Secretary of the Treasury Department.

Feilan rose and extended his hand. "Mr. Ballantine, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Mr. Feilan, thank you so much."

Ballantine gripped his hand tightly. Perhaps because of his excitement, the muscles in his face twitched slightly.

Whenever a new president took office, it was only natural for him to dismiss officials from the old administration and install his own trusted men.

Especially now, with the entire United States shrouded in the shadow of a financial crisis, Treasury Department officials were even more anxious. Everyone waited uneasily for judgment on their fate, and Ballantine was no exception.

But several days earlier, William had privately sought him out and personally told him that once the new administration took office, he would remain Assistant Secretary of the Treasury and take part in an important plan.

The news had sent him into ecstasy.

Afterward, he discreetly made inquiries through private channels and learned the truth.

The main reason he had been able to retain his post and gain the opportunity to participate in such an important plan was the strong recommendation of a young man named Feilan Roosevelt.

Although he still did not know what the important plan actually was.

But he knew in his heart that if he could complete it successfully, he would surely earn the new President Roosevelt's favor, and his future would be bright indeed.

"Mr. Ballantine, there's no need to thank me. The country needs you."

"No problem, Mr. Feilan. Of course, no problem."

Ballantine nodded vigorously, just short of uttering the word "loyalty."

Not far away, Taddy and the others stood frozen.

They knew Ballantine. Though he was not among the very highest ranks of power, Assistant Secretary of the Treasury was already a weighty position in Washington.

Why would someone like him grasp a bastard child's hand so excitedly and thank him?

What was going on?

Helen stood to the side without offering any explanation.

Her uncle had said that the matter of the bill needed to remain confidential. So even the family did not yet know about the meeting three days ago.

If Arthur Ballantine's appearance had merely left Taddy and the others confused, then what followed plunged them into complete shock.

At the front of the stands, cabinet members began arriving one after another.

Cordell Hull, the soon-to-be Secretary of State and an elder statesman from the South, slowed slightly as he passed the row where Feilan sat. His gaze crossed the crowd and landed precisely on Feilan's face, then he gave a faint nod.

It was a gesture so subtle that it was almost imperceptible, but Taddy saw it clearly.

Harold Ickes came next.

The Secretary of the Interior, famous for his hard-line manner, still wore his characteristic stern expression.

But his gaze likewise swept in that direction, and the instant their eyes met, he narrowed them slightly. It was the unspoken way old-school politicians acknowledged one another.

Frances Perkins came even closer.

As she passed Feilan, the woman who was about to become the first female cabinet member in United States history even turned slightly and nodded at him.

Then came Henry Wallace, James Farley...

One, two, three...

Taddy and the others kept counting, only to realize that nearly one-third of the cabinet members had acknowledged Feilan.

It was not a curious glance, nor the perfunctory courtesy of a social occasion.

They knew him. There was some definite connection between them, one Taddy and the others could not comprehend.

"Helen."

Taddy finally could not hold back. He turned slightly, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"You'll find out later."

Helen did not answer immediately.

Taddy opened his mouth, wanting to press further, but at that moment, sound surged in from every direction like a tide, instantly engulfing the east plaza of the United States Capitol.

Roosevelt was pushed onto the platform.

For the first time, he was pushed in his wheelchair into the center of public attention before the entire nation.

Before this, the vast majority of people in the United States had not known their new president was disabled.

The media had also tacitly guarded an open secret.

They never photographed Roosevelt standing or walking, and never discussed his physical condition.

So when the crowd saw this scene, some covered their mouths while others stood rooted to the spot.

The ceremony began.

Chief Justice Charles Hughes stepped to the front.

The seventy-one-year-old Republican wore a solemn expression. His voice was steady as he opened the Bible in his hands and began reciting the oath.

Roosevelt placed his left hand on a thick book.

It was a family Bible in Dutch, brought from the Netherlands to New Amsterdam by his maternal Lineage in the 1660s.

"...preserve, protect, and defend the United States Constitution..."

Hughes's voice drifted through the wind.

Roosevelt's lips moved along with the words, but when he reached "preserve," he paused for half a second.

It was brief enough that most people would not notice.

Only Feilan below the platform knew what that half-second meant.

Years later, Roosevelt would explain that pause on some occasion.

He said that at the time, he had been thinking that Hoover had taken the same oath. Hoover had also placed his hand on the Bible, and had also promised God and the people that he would preserve and defend the Constitution.

But that Constitution had not protected the people of this country.

Those children starving in the shacks of Hooverville, those elderly people kneeling outside banks and begging for the savings of a lifetime, those workers cast aside by factories like rags—they had not received any so-called protection.