Of Reminiscences & Romans

Lyndon Johnson likes to play host in the massive manner. Last week, at three separate White House parties, he and Lady Bird entertained some 3,100 guests.

The first was a reception for delegates to the White House Conference on Natural Beauty (see following story), at which Johnson once again reverted to reminiscing about his Texas boyhood: "All my life I have drawn strength and something more from those Texas hills. Sometimes, in the highest councils of the nation, in this house. I sit back and I can almost feel that rough, unyielding, sticky clay soil between my fingers, and it stirs memories that often give me comfort and sometimes give me a pretty firm purpose."

Quote from the Consul. Next night, on the White House south lawn, the Johnsons greeted about 800 top-ranking military officers and Defense Department officials and their wives. In a jovial mood, the President ambled over to the bandstand, hoisted himself over a railing to shake hands with each band member. Cried an Army general in the audience afterward: "I thought you were going to play all the instruments. Mr. President." Replied Johnson: "I can play 'em all. I'm a switch hitter."

In his brief talk to the brass. Johnson recalled that "a friend of mine, observing some of my problems, recently sent me for my desk a quotation from a Roman consul back in 168 B.C." The consul was Lucius Aemilius Paulus, speaking to the Roman Senate, which had picked him to lead Rome's legions in the Macedonian war, then heaped criticism upon his conduct of that war. Said Paulus: "I am not one of those who think that commanders ought at no time to receive advice; on the contrary, 1 should deem that man more proud than wise who regulated every proceeding by the standard of his own single judgment."

But, President Johnson explained, Paulus went on to say that if anyone did want to give him some free advice, "let him come with me into Macedonia.

He shall be furnished with a ship, a horse, a tent, even his traveling charges shall be defrayed. But if he thinks this too much trouble, and prefers the repose of city life to the toils of war, let him not, on land, assume the office of pilot."

Johnson's choice of quotations was rather enlightening in view of the criticism he has been getting from campus and column-writing armchair generals about his conduct of the Vietnamese war and the Dominican crisis.

Happy Birthday. The week's last party was for some 1,300 House and Senate staffers, and when Johnson emerged to greet them, he had in tow Henry Cabot Lodge, who had been called in to consult with the President about Viet Nam. Johnson praised the bipartisanship of congressional leaders and men like Lodge ("He's here for just one reason, and it isn't because he opposed me for the vice-presidency in 1960"), and reported that the 75 bills, 300 reports and 200 messages that he had sent to Congress since Jan. 4 had been receiving prompt and, he hoped, favorable attention. Recalling his own days as a Texas Congressman's aide, Johnson said that he had "made $268 a month for two years," and that Lady Bird had made him salt away a fixed amount each month to buy "baby bonds." That nest egg, the President added, provided the money for his first congressional campaign.

At that point, Johnson turned to Vice

President Hubert Humphrey, whom he had summoned to the bandstand with his wife Muriel, noted that it was Humphrey's 54th birthday. Said he: "Hubert does most of the things I take credit for, and if some of those votes get split up there he'll get some of the blame." Humphrey laughed, blushed and beamed as the President led the guests in singing "Happy Birthday." With that, Johnson headed for a waiting helicopter for a holiday trip to Texas.

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