Letters of Franklin K. Lane | Page 8

just after a Cabinet meeting, with the heat of the
discussion still in his veins; others on the paper of the Department of
the Interior, with the symbol of the buffalo--chosen by him--richly
embossed in white on the corner, and other letters, soiled and worn
from being long carried in the pocket and often re-read, by the brave

old reformer who had hailed Lane when he first entered the lists. This
is the part of the record that cannot be transcribed.
Franklin Knight Lane was born on July 15, 1864, on his father's farm
near Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada, the eldest of four
children, all born within a few years. The low, white farmhouse that is
his birthplace still stands pleasantly surrounded by tall trees, and at one
side a huge, thirty-foot hedge of hawthorn blooms each spring. His
father, Christopher S. Lane, was at the time of his son's birth a preacher.
Later, when his voice was affected by recurrent bronchitis, he became a
dentist. Lane speaks of him several times in his letters as a Presbyterian,
and alludes to the strict orthodoxy of his father's faith, especially in
regard to an active and personal devil.
In 1917, when in the Cabinet, during President Wilson's second term of
office, Lane wrote to his brother, "To-night we give a dinner to the
Canadians, Sir George Foster, the acting Premier, and Sir Joseph Polk,
the Under-Secretary of External Affairs, who, by the way, was born in
Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, and says that he heard our father
preach."
But it was from his mother, whose maiden name was Caroline Burns,
and who was of direct Scotch ancestry, that Franklin Lane drew most of
his physical and many of his mental traits. From her he derived the
firmly-modeled structure of his face; the watchful Scotch eyes; a fine
white skin, that weathered to an even brown, later in life; remarkably
sound teeth, large and regular, giving firm support to the round contour
of the face; and the fresh line of his lips, that was a marked family trait.
A description of him, when he was candidate for Governor of
California, at thirty-eight, was written by Grant Wallace. Cleared of
some of the hot sweetness of a campaign rhapsody it reads:--
"Picture a man a little above the average height ... with the deep chest
and deep voice that always go with the born leader of men; the bigness
and strength of the hands ... the clear eye and broad, firm, and
expressive mouth, and the massive head that suggests irresistibly a
combination of Napoleon and Ingersoll."
These two resemblances, to Napoleon and to Robert Ingersoll, were
frequently rediscovered by others, in later years.
The description concludes by saying, "That Lane is a man of
earnestness and vigorous action is shown in ... every movement. You

sit down to chat with him in his office. As he grows interested in the
subject, he kicks his chair back, thrusts his hands way to the elbows in
his trouser pockets and strides up and down the room. With deepening
interest he speaks more rapidly and forcibly, and charges back and
forth across the carpet with the heavy tread of a grenadier." As an older
man this impetuosity was somewhat modified. What an early
interviewer called his "frank man-to-manness" became a manner of
grave and cordial concentration. With the warm, full grasp of his hand
in greeting, he gave his complete attention to the man before him. That,
and his rich, strong laugh of pleasure, and the varied play of his moods
of earnestness, gayety, and challenge, are what men remember best.
Lane's native bent from the first was toward public life. His citizenship
was determined when his father decided to take his family to California,
to escape the severity of the Canadian climate. In 1902, Franklin Lane
was asked how he became an American. "By virtue of my father's
citizenship," he replied, "I have been a resident of California since
seven years of age, excepting during a brief absence in New York and
Washington."
In 1871, the mother, father, and four children, after visiting two
brothers of Mrs. Lane's on the way, finally reached the town of Napa,
California.
"They came," says an old schoolmate of Napa days, "bringing with
them enough of the appearance and mannerisms of their former
environment to make us youngsters 'sit up and take notice,' for the
children were dressed in kilts, topped by handsome black velvet and
silk plaid caps. However, these costumes were soon discarded, for at
school the children found themselves the center of both good--and
bad-natured gibes, until they were glad to dress as was the custom
here." The "Lane boys," he says, were then put into knee-trousers, "and
Franklin, who was large for his age and