National Affairs: Champagne & Flowers

Whatever may be the other distinctions of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, one is certainly a family quite as colorful as that of his late great cousin, Theodore. Last week the President’s son Elliott was starting a Fort Worth radio chain, his son Franklin Jr. and Du Pont daughter-in-law were honeymooning in Europe, his son James was making an Indianapolis speech that was covered by Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt in her column “My Day,” and the President’s 82-year-old mother was sightseeing in Italy. None of their routine activities, however, constituted the President’s major family distraction of the week. This took place at Cannes, France, whose Mayor Pierre Nouveau almost created an international incident by his description of the conduct of 21-year-old John Roosevelt, the President’s youngest son, at Cannes’ “Battle of Flowers.”

Mayor Nouveau, spying John Roosevelt—or his spitting image—going past in an open carriage, hurried down from his reviewing stand to give the city’s distinguished guest a handsome bouquet, and an eloquent French welcome. The lad picked up a bottle of champagne from the carriage floor, squirted it full in his beaming face. While the gushing stream coursed down over the mayor’s best suit of clothes, the gay youngster, taking the Battle of Flowers in too literal a sense, seized the proffered bouquet and brought it down vigorously on the donor’s head. M. Nouveau’s emotions were inexpressible.

Only notable misdemeanors of John Roosevelt have been arrests for speeding, breaking photographers’ cameras. In Paris, where he went the evening after the Battle of Flowers, Son John sought the diplomatic advice of his father’s friend, Ambassador William C. Bullitt, then explained to the press that he had indeed attended the Cannes fete in a carriage put at his disposal by the proprietor of his hotel, but had not attacked the mayor, remembered nothing of the incident. Said he: ”I never met the mayor of Cannes. There were no speeches. I don’t know anything about it. . . . It certainly must have been somebody else. . . .”

Meanwhile, in Cannes Mayor Nouveau reiterated his story: “. . . I regret to say I am certain now it was Mr. Roosevelt.” Upshot of the Cannes Battle of Flowers was a deluge of French editorials, night-club skits and radio songs; in the U. S. a comment by John Roosevelt’s mother:

“I am sure John told the truth about it when he said he didn’t do it. because I have never known him to tell anything but the truth. He is one of the most dignified of my children. He never did any such thing at home and I can’t imagine him doing any such thing abroad. If it happened. I am sure he didn’t know the identity of the mayor. It is a perfectly understandable thing for any youngster to do, in such a fete, where everyone was throwing flowers and celebrating, if he didn’t know who the mayor was.”