Part 13

A few days later I obtained from the headquarters my own special photograph of Mr. Harding, duly autographed in the handwriting which was so familiar to me. I remember Miss Harding inspected it closely and said, “Yes, that’s his writing all right,” indicating that he had not given it to a possible copyist to do for him. Could she have known of the thousands of words her brother had written to me! On the bottom of the photograph he had inscribed, “To Miss Nan Britton, with the good wishes of a Marion neighbor and friend, Sincerely, Warren G. Harding.”

_56_

Those were exciting days for Marion, Ohio. I remained in our home town visiting various friends of mine for about two weeks, long enough I remember to harm me physically, for I tried my best to be one of the “devils” into which it seemed that a good many of the younger society people had developed during the campaign period. I was almost back in the weakened condition I had partially pulled myself out of through early-to-bed hours in Chicago. However, I was determined upon proceeding to New York.

While in Marion, I kept the $500 bills in my silver mesh-bag, as I have already stated. This was, I must say, more money than I had ever received from Mr. Harding at one time, but I had told him that I wanted to buy a coat, and that one item might require a goodly part of one of the $500 bills. I remember one night when I was visiting Annabel Mouser Fairbanks, we had been up well into the morning, and when I retired I very carelessly, though not intentionally so by any means, left my mesh-bag downstairs on the chair where I had been sitting during the evening, “keeping it right with me.” Wilfred Schaffner and John Fairbanks, Annabel’s husband, remained up playing cards long after Annabel and I had retired. The next day John said to me, “Say, you are a fine one to leave a bunch of money around like that? You can see right through that mesh-bag! Don’t you know we never lock our doors? What are you going to do with all that money, anyway?” I explained it was money I was to invest for my brother-in-law in stocks when I reached New York.

About the middle of November I reached New York and stayed two weeks with a girl friend, whose apartment was at the Poinciana at Amsterdam and 120th Street, the apartment where Mr. Harding and I went to spend an afternoon in January of 1919.

Although I did look into the matter of positions while in New York, my enthusiasm about actually taking a position waned with my fading strength, and at the end of two weeks, thinking myself in no physical condition to remain in the East alone, and having consulted a doctor who confirmed my belief and ordered me back to Chicago to complete rest for a month at least, I took the train back to that city.

However, I did buy a squirrel coat and some Christmas gifts for my family and for Mrs. Woodlock and her daughter Ruth and Aunt Emma, which shopping expeditions took all my surplus strength.

It seems to me that Mr. and Mrs. Harding and some friends of theirs went South during the month of December, 1920, to visit the Scobeys, returning to Marion about a month later. Of the Scobeys I have already spoken. Mr. Harding and I had discussed them as possible foster parents for our baby who had not been born when we had entertained such thoughts. About the middle of January Mr. Harding wrote to me from Marion, suggesting that we endeavor to hit upon a suitable plan of action in connection with settling more or less permanently the all-important question of Elizabeth Ann. That question had been paramount in my thoughts. It was probably the main cause of my continued physical weakness; and I agreed with him that something would have to be done.

_57_

The latter part of January Mr. Harding sent for my sister Elizabeth to come to Marion to see him. When she returned to Chicago, she repeated to me his almost desperate concern about a final, permanent arrangement for caring for our child. She told me how they had discussed at length the advisability from many angles of her taking Elizabeth Ann, and how Mr. Harding had paced the floor of his office (the same office in the Christian home where he had sat with Mr. Will Hays when his sister and I had beckoned for him to come out) and said, “My God, Elizabeth, you’ve got to help me!” She told me that he had said to her, “Nan is just a child in many ways and must be guarded and guided,” a statement I think I resented just a little because I felt I had thus far engineered our secret safely. Mr. Harding told Elizabeth, “I would not hesitate a minute to give you and Scott $300 or $400 a month to care for Elizabeth Ann if you would adopt her.”

My sister on this occasion had taken with her a picture of Mr. Harding to him to autograph for her. It was one of those for which he had posed at Moffett’s in June of 1920, after which sittings he had rushed out from Moffett’s to see me, and Elizabeth said that when she showed it to Mr. Harding he said he preferred it to all the others taken at that time. His autograph for Elizabeth is as follows:

“With greetings and good wishes to Mrs. Scott A. Willits, with that high regard which goes to the daughter of a valued friend.

WARREN G. HARDING.”

Elizabeth reported to me very graphically that visit with Mr. Harding. I was so upset over the whole situation that I must have listened but dully to the things she said. The above statements are all I can recall now, with the exception of one other. This “one other” stands out clearly above everything else that was told me by Elizabeth. She said that when she entered his office he shook hands with her and remarked with his Harding smile, “You are looking very stunning, Elizabeth!” Knowing his charm when he said complimentary things, I must confess to a tiny bit of jealousy, though I was naturally proud that he found my sister so attractive. I loved Elizabeth very dearly.

Elizabeth and I discussed very fully after that visit the advantage of such an arrangement, both from Elizabeth Ann’s standpoint and from mine. It must have been about this time that Elizabeth told me that she had been obliged to tell her husband, Scott Willits, the truth. Although I resented this further confidence on her part at the time, it was understandable in the light of many mysterious movements both on my part and on the part of my sister, and it was only natural that Elizabeth should take her husband into the secret.

I wanted so much to have the baby with me. To give her up completely through a legal adoption meant the greatest sacrifice of my life. Elizabeth presented the question to me in the light of my helping Mr. Harding at a time when he genuinely needed my co-operation. Of course I wanted to help my darling, but I loved our child with a devotion that was equal in its intensity to the love I felt for her father. I was so profoundly disturbed over the thing that my sleep became nightmarish; my nerves seemed to be gone completely.

Of one thing I was certain in my mind: I would not consent to Elizabeth Ann’s being adopted by anyone, not even my sister and her husband, unless I could have full control over her future, her education and her welfare in general. For some reason my brother-in-law took exactly the opposite viewpoint when we discussed it with him, and resisted such a plan, desiring, as I desired, to have full authority. While I could not understand then his attitude, I can more charitably view it now, for indeed a child with three parents means “a house divided against itself.” Scott Willits, my sister’s husband, was with the Chicago Opera Company then, and they were about to go on tour. Elizabeth and he and I talked and talked but what I agreed to did not seem to be what Scott would agree to, though Elizabeth loved me so much she would have done anything to make it possible for me to control my own child.

_58_

It must have been in early February, 1921, that Mr. Harding wrote to me, telling me he and his family were going to Cleveland to have some dental work done and that I should meet him at the Hotel Statler there. I did so, following his instructions to await a messenger on the mezzanine floor who would bring me a note in his (Mr. Harding’s) handwriting so that I should know it was all right to accompany him to where Mr. Harding would be waiting for me. This messenger, whose name I do not recall, evidently thought I had considerable influence with the President-elect, for he talked to me very earnestly about certain things that Mr. Harding “ought to do,” all of which I listened to without much comment. Then at the appointed time he escorted me upstairs to the room which had been reserved for our interview. Mr. Harding joined me in this room almost immediately and we remained there for an hour or so. Outside the door a guard was stationed.

Mr. Harding looked worn and I asked him if he had had a trying time at the dentist’s, to which he replied, “I’ve been in the chair for four hours straight, Nan,” with a wry smile. I tried to kiss the memory of it away.

I told Mr. Harding how I felt about the adoption, and that I could not bring myself to give our child up to anyone. He said he understood how I felt, but that the time had come when we would have to devise _some_ means of taking care of her and he did not feel the home of the nurse was the proper place.

“How about putting her in a Catholic Home, dearie?”, he inquired gently. I was sitting on his lap and at this suggestion I sat up very straight and looked at him, astounded. “A Catholic Home!” I repeated incredulously. “Why, Nan, they are not bad places--the surroundings are refined, and she would receive excellent care until such time as you or I might be able to take her,” he explained.

But the very idea of a “home” conjured up before me pictures too distasteful for words. I remembered the “orphans’ home” near Marion, which I occasionally used to pass when my father, who practised medicine twenty-five years in Marion, took me with him on calls into the country, and the memory of the pity and sense of fear with which I shrunk from going past that “home” was something akin to the feeling I experienced when Mr. Harding mentioned a “Catholic Home.” Once inside such a place, perhaps one might have to remain--I didn’t know. And it seemed all out of proportion to the character of our own special case to suggest such a home for a President’s child.

I supposed I voiced these things aloud; I don’t remember. But Mr. Harding was entirely sympathetic. “I’ll agree to anything you suggest, dearie,” he said. Of course I had nothing to suggest. I would not listen to his repeated suggestion that he see Mr. Scobey, or even that he talk with his sister, Mrs. Charity Remsberg. I wanted Elizabeth Ann myself, and somehow it seemed to me I would never _never_ see her again if I allowed either of these families to take her, even though Mrs. Remsberg _was_ my sweetheart’s sister.

“I guess the only thing is to let Elizabeth and Scott adopt her,” I said resignedly. Then I could be with her at least. “See, here I have Elizabeth’s itemized statement of her expenses if we decide to follow such a course,” and I produced a small piece of paper on which my sister had entered her necessary monthly expenses. Mr. Harding slapped his Oxford glasses on his nose and looked at the final amount at the bottom; he was never much interested in my money items except as a whole. He agreed to the amount, saying if such an arrangement would make me happier than would an arrangement such as he had suggested, whereby later on I or he might take the baby as ours, he was agreeable to it. He tried to impress upon me how I would want to take the baby later on, but I could not see any future possibility of my being able to do so; and would he not be in the White House for four long years?--possibly eight. The adoption by the Willitses seemed to me to be the only thing in sight, regardless of how I deplored the arrangement.

Mr. Harding had met Scott Willits casually, immediately following his nomination in Chicago. This meeting was prearranged by Mr. Harding and me, and took place in the Florentine Room of the Congress Hotel. It was late afternoon when Mr. Harding appeared where others besides Elizabeth, Scott and I were waiting to shake his hand. He came in hatless and the June warmth was in his face. I have never experienced in Chicago, heat surpassing the heat of those exciting days of the Republican Convention in 1920. My brother-in-law had been out of the hospital less than a week where he had undergone a slight operation, and his cheeks were sallow. How healthy Mr. Harding looked! His greeting for all of us was one of such natural cordiality and long-time friendliness that I am sure it did not go unremarked by others in the room. We chatted several minutes, then Mr. Harding said with his good-natured smile, “You know, we folks who run for office sometimes neglect a lot of things--I just happened to think, standing here, that I have had no luncheon!” I looked at the watch which he had given me three years before. “Why, it’s four o’clock!” Mr. Harding looked around cautiously at the others waiting to claim his time. “Yes, and I must go--” I interrupted him. “You’re going _first_ and have some luncheon--please!” I pleaded as he turned to Elizabeth and Scott and held out his hand. I squeezed his fingers, and, as he turned away, called after him again, “Don’t forget to eat!”

Now, on the occasion of my visit with him in the Statler Hotel, he was recalling this meeting with Scott and assuring me that he thought everything would be fine if we decided to proceed with the adoption arrangement. I remember he said, “You love Elizabeth, don’t you, dearie?” And when I sobbed against his shoulder, “Y-e-s, b-u-t,” he said, “Well, I know she will do all in her power to see that you have Elizabeth Ann with you as much as you wish.” I told him then that she had indeed been a peach. “Yes,” agreed Mr. Harding, “I have never known a more beautiful love between two sisters than that which exists between you and Elizabeth.” He knew better than anyone else how I adored my sister.

Then, in an attempt at a gayer mood, which I am sure the work of the dentist and our serious considerations could not have genuinely inspired, Mr. Harding told me how he thought he could have me often in Washington. He promised to send for me just as soon after the inauguration as possible. He gave me sufficient funds to carry me over and to pay Elizabeth and Scott in advance, and urged me to complete the adoption arrangements as soon as I comfortably could.

Then he kissed me goodbye and we parted again.

_59_

But Scott remained adamant. And so the controversy about where the authority should rest which would govern Elizabeth Ann in the future continued. However, Elizabeth and I did seek a lawyer, and I laid before him in confidence my problem, and the three of us--Elizabeth, Scott and I--had a long talk with him. He proved to be a judge--and a Catholic. He pointed out to me the advantages in connection with the Catholic “home” proposition, of course not dreaming he was advising me in behalf of a child that belonged to the President of the United States, or rather the President-elect. But I could not see that. The only thing that seemed to hold out the promise of being with my baby was the adoption.

When Scott left to go on tour with the Chicago Opera Company the final decision had not been reached. But after he departed, Elizabeth wrote to him, finally obtaining his consent to the adoption, which also provided a legal guardianship which would give _me_ full authority over Elizabeth Ann. In this way was the matter consummated, and I wrote to Mr. Harding in Marion, telling him that final arrangements were being made and requesting the necessary $300 which the lawyer said would be his fee. Of course I had told the lawyer I wished the matter kept strictly confidential, and I gave him my name as Nan Britton Christian, though my name in the birth certificate registering our baby as Elizabeth Ann Christian had been Emma Eloise Britton (Christian). Mr. Harding sent me the $300 from Columbus where he was passing through on his way to Washington for the inauguration, enclosing the money in a note to me, the envelope being stamped only with a two-cent stamp and not registered.

The lawyer was very kind to me, though Mr. Harding said upon my first visit to him in the White House that the charge for the adoption papers was exhorbitant. I have often thought that my statement to the lawyer to the effect that Elizabeth Ann might some day have some money, and that I wished to be in a position to take charge of all of her affairs, may have had some influence in the matter of his arriving at so large a fee. I know I did state to him that she would very likely have a small amount to her credit immediately, and he suggested my investing it in government bonds. However, in spite of the fact that Mr. Harding often spoke to me of such a fund, he did not tell me definitely that he had started it, and he died very suddenly, with an ocean between us.

I was distinctly given to understand by my lawyer that my legal guardianship over Elizabeth Ann really constituted me the sole parent in all but name. It was because I desired this statement in writing from the lawyer that early in 1926 I was prompted to write to him, recalling to his memory the circumstances surrounding the adoption and requesting to know my legal status and whether I was obliged to report back to the court in the matter. I told him I was under the impression that it had been fixed up for all time so that such a report from me was unnecessary. In his letter to me, dated June 26, 1926, he states, “Where the appointment is only for the purpose of consenting to her adoption and that having transpired and the accounting having been filed and you having been excused from further accounting and further duty by the court, there is no further necessity for a guardianship, unless she receives some property and if that should happen in Illinois, then you would be the legal guardian to control said property until she becomes of legal age,” a statement widely at variance with the positive one he made to me in 1921, viz., that by the arrangement then made I would be Elizabeth Ann’s legal guardian, fully empowered to act for her in all things, and that this arrangement would be final and for all time. In fact, it was for this service I thought I paid him the sum of $300. When I saw Mr. Harding for the first time in the White House, I told him I was sure my Chicago attorney had been obliged to go outside the regular procedure in cases of adoptions in appointing me legal guardian for all time, thus endeavoring to explain away the charge of $300 which Mr. Harding had termed “exhorbitant.” The statement from my lawyer’s letter which I have just quoted--and the general information contained in the full letter, which is of course in my possession--does not point to the fact that I had at any time during the legal proceedings been made Elizabeth Ann’s legal guardian for all time as I fondly thought; though I may be wrong about this after all. I am sure my sister Elizabeth and her husband both would be very much surprised at this piece of contradictory information for they have never been told by me that I have received such a letter and are, as I was, under the decided impression that I am Elizabeth Ann’s guardian for all time. Whether or not the difference in names given--the birth certificate bearing my maiden name as Emma Eloise Britton (Christian) and the adoption papers made out in the name of Nan Britton (Christian) would in itself annul the adoption and make void even the action taken back in 1921, I do not know. I know little about the law and its intricacies.

In any event, the adoption cards announcing that Mr. and Mrs. Scott A. Willits had adopted Elizabeth Ann Willits were dated March 15, 1921, were mailed out by the Willitses at that time, and Elizabeth Ann (Harding) Christian became legally Elizabeth Ann Willits.

My brother-in-law had been during the war a private in the navy, and after the armistice he very much desired to be released so that he might get back to his musical vocation. He is a violinist, and the duties of a sailor had necessarily done much damage to hands which were entirely unused to manual labor. Through my appeal to Mr. Harding, who was then of course a United States Senator, Scott was given an honorable discharge which enabled him to return to his music. I remember his telling us how the other boys at the Fort sat up and took notice when it was learned that a United States Senator had intervened in his behalf.

Therefore, when Elizabeth Ann became legally a Willits, it was agreed that the story surrounding her adoption should be that her real father had been a friend of Scott in the navy and that her real mother was dead. On the whole it sounded plausible and seemed to “get over” admirably. I found _myself_ unwilling however to state that the mother was dead, and found that in the instances I was approached for an explanation, it sufficed to say merely that the father was a friend of Scott, which was true in the main.

_60_

Before Scott had returned from his Chicago Opera tour, Elizabeth and I had begun to plan for a new apartment. They lived on the South Side in Chicago, which is not generally conceded to be as fashionable or desirable as the North Side, and Elizabeth and I agreed we would prefer to be on the North Side. I was to live with them, of course, and my room and board were included in the amount of money paid to them monthly. This money, Mr. Harding agreed heartily with me, should always be paid to them through me, and it always was, most of the time being all cash, except for a couple of months when I sent them my personal checks from New York. Outside of my board and room, as Mr. Harding stated to Elizabeth during the Marion, Ohio, interview, “I mean, of course, to take care of Nan in the matter of clothes, etc.” and he did, too, liberally. With the first payment to the Willitses which he had advanced, handing it to me in Cleveland upon my visit with him in the Hotel Statler, Elizabeth and I chose some additional furniture for the new apartment, and in a short time selected the apartment itself, which was at 901 Lafayette Parkway. It had a sun porch and a back porch, and even a real back yard, which we could share along with the other five families who lived in the apartment house. We thought the yard ideal for Elizabeth Ann to play in.