Naval Physicians in Service to Presidents and Congress

COVID-19 controversies have felled a Navy Secretary and continue to mire top medical officials, making it instructive to look at how two canny admirals weathered scandals and crises when they ran health care for the White House and Congress during much of the early 20th century.

Rear Admiral Cary Grayson, White House physician to Presidents Theodore Roosevelt, William Taft, and Woodrow Wilson; and Vice Admiral George Calver, Congress’s attending physician for the post’s first 38 years, both drew frontpage censure as they rose from obscurity to build or run empires.

Grayson hid President Wilson’s disabling stroke and, alongside the First Lady, largely ran the administration for its final two years. Calver parlayed a parttime House detail into a lifetime appointment as physician to all of Congress, replete with expansive offices, staff, and perks, even as his patients died at a rate of one a month. Both doctors sparked furor by jumping from midgrade officers to flag rank.

Backgrounds

Grayson and Calver came from similar backgrounds, the mid-Atlantic sons of doctors. Each married well—Grayson to an heiress, Calver to an admiral’s daughter. Each ensconced himself as a friend and confidante to national leaders. Each projected a humble, folksy air and stressed preventive medicine, especially exercise. And each was a better politician than doctor; they left wakes of dead and broken patients that changed history. 

Cary Grayson grew up in rural Culpeper, Virginia, a descendant of founding father George Mason. He was small, affable, and ruggedly handsome with black hair over bushy eyebrows; dark, deep-set eyes; and a long, straight nose. A gifted raconteur, he spewed often self-deprecating yarns in a Southern drawl.

After Grayson entered the Navy medical corps in 1903, a family friend and mentor, Rear Admiral Presley Rixey, Navy Surgeon General and White House physician to President Theodore Roosevelt, brought him into executive circles.¹ Grayson, a skilled equestrian, cemented Roosevelt’s favor by joining the old Rough Rider on grueling horseback runs. After Grayson completed a tour on the USS Maryland (ARC-8) in 1907, Roosevelt requested his assignment to the White House.

Grayson in the White House

Grayson stayed at the White House through a cordial transition from Roosevelt to his chosen Republican successor, William Howard Taft. In 1913, Grayson kept his post after Democrat Woodrow Wilson beat both Roosevelt and Taft in the 1912 election through an accident Grayson said he considered providential. 

On inauguration day 1913, Wilson’s sister, Annie Josephine Wilson Howe, slipped on a marble White House staircase and split her forehead. Grayson stitched and tended her for a few days, endearing himself to the new first couple and sparking what Wilson biographer A. Scott Berg called “the most constant and intimate relationship the president had with a man for the rest of his life—a unique affiliation characterized by trust beyond that of any official.”²

Grayson’s ministrations were not always so successful. When the First Lady fell ill shortly into Wilson’s presidency, Grayson failed to diagnose nephritis, a kidney disorder. Instead, he blamed a nervous breakdown from overwork.³ She soon died.

Relationships

Grayson also seemed adept at relationships with women. He was rumored to have seduced a long line of damsels in the White House, including Taft’s daughter Helen. A chief White House usher called Grayson “the attentive little doctor.”⁴ In 1915, Grayson introduced Wilson to his soon-to-be second wife, Edith Bolling Galt. In 1916, Grayson married 25-year-old heiress Alice Gertrude Gordon, a friend of the new First Lady.

That summer, Grayson—a 37-year-old lieutenant commander—asked Wilson to nominate him for rear admiral. Wilson considered Grayson’s request “indelicate and objectionable,” but agreed out of personal loyalty.⁵ The naval examining board, which included Grayson’s mentor Rear Admiral Rixey, approved. The nomination, over 137 more senior medical officers, sparked “a considerable furor both in the Senate and throughout the country,” as one newspaper put it.⁶ The Senate Naval Affairs Committee and then the full Senate confirmed Grayson on party-line votes.

In the White House, Grayson essentially served one patient. He said he found that Roosevelt over-exercised, Taft overate, and Wilson overworked. He made Roosevelt slow down—a little. He made Taft stop eating three dinners a night. And once he had Wilson sleep in a tent in the rear of the White House so that breezes and frogs’ croaking would lull him to sleep.⁷

Grayson grew closest to Wilson, both professionally and personally, until the two were nearly inseparable. Grayson prescribed golf, daily motor rides through Rock Creek Park, and weekly outings to the theater, and joined Wilson on all of them.

Grayson wrote in his journal, “He treated me as an older man might treat his son . . . There were long stretches when he and I alone occupied the great house,” often when Wilson sent his family away during sweltering Washington summers.⁸

Grayson worked reporters like a press secretary. As one newspaper wrote in 1916:

On the whole, the practice of medicine on the president of the United States is the least of Grayson’s tasks. He’s a sort of confidential family adviser to President Wilson, and he also regulates the president’s office hours—and sometimes his statements to reporters. When the president is away from Washington, Grayson is oftentimes the sole connecting link between the head of the American nation and the representatives of the American press.⁹

Grayson grew his portfolio. As the Washington Star diplomatically put it: “Admiral Grayson’s influence enlarged as the President broke with one after another of his advisers.”¹⁰

Those breaks were not always coincidence. Grayson disparaged Edward House, Wilson’s top foreign-affairs adviser, and then traveled with Wilson to the Versailles peace talks as adviser, not doctor. Soon afterward, Wilson cut off House and other senior aides, convinced they had deceived him.¹¹

Wilson’s Stroke

On an October morning in 1919, Grayson stepped into Wilson’s car to find him sitting, the left side of his face slack and dead, his tongue struggling to make words, and tears running down his cheeks.¹² The President had suffered a stroke.

Medical records released decades later “make it clear for the first time that Wilson, on October 2, 1919, suffered a devastating trauma, one so extensive that it would be impossible for him ever to achieve more than a minimal state of recovery,” the editors of The Papers of Woodrow Wilson wrote.¹³

Grayson hid Wilson’s illness from the public—and from Congress, the cabinet, and the Vice President—and blamed nervous exhaustion. Grayson claimed the president’s mind was unimpaired. He refused to certify Wilson as incapacitated, which would have put Vice President Thomas Marshall in charge. 

Instead, Grayson and the second Mrs. Wilson, with help from presidential aide Joseph Tumulty, secluded Wilson and ran the administration. “Grayson does not desire him [Wilson] to have questions submitted which require constructive thought,” Secretary of State Robert Lansing told another cabinet secretary.¹⁴ Grayson, who had long spoken for Wilson, now also deduced or fabricated the president’s views. 

Observers decried Grayson’s coverup. Harvey’s Weekly called Grayson’s conduct “an impropriety and an injustice so gross and at the same time so stupid as to defy temperate description.”

Republicans who controlled Congress refused calls to elevate Vice President Marshall, preferring an incapacitated Wilson in the White House.

Grayson’s approach later helped spur the 25th Amendment, which elevates the vice president to succeed a president deemed incapacitated.

Grayson retired from the Navy in December 1928, just as Commander-select Calver was going aboard in Congress.

Calver’s Arrival on Capitol Hill

Calver arrived on Capitol Hill in answer to a crisis. In December 1928, one congressman fell dead, and two others collapsed from apparent heart problems, an ongoing plight. The House decided it needed an on-site doctor. Since Thomas Jefferson’s presidency, the White House and Congress had turned to the nearby Naval Dispensary for its doctors, who were considered “federal physicians.” The Speaker asked the Navy to send Calver, who had treated members at the Dispensary and won fans.¹⁵ The Navy detailed him to the House for three years.

At 41, Calver already exuded a kind and caring paternal vibe. A Washington, D.C., native and George Washington University graduate, he described himself as “just an old-fashioned doctor” who happened to have a family of 600 to 700 patients to look after. A daily walker, he was usually trim.

Calver had clearly developed political skills early that helped him navigate feuding factions in Congress. As a lieutenant (junior grade) in 1915, he inspected a Philippine leper colony and found the lepers had grievances against each other and against the officials who had sent them there. Calver recommended issuing the lepers more leather to make sandals, a few more bars of saltwater soap, ship’s biscuits, and plugs of tobacco. He urged increasing rations in such a way that did not suggest favor for Guam lepers, already the best tended.¹⁶

Ten Commandments of Health

Calver’s first official congressional act was to reject the basement offices the House gave him. He moved into the House Democratic cloakroom until the Capitol architect found him suitable ground-floor quarters.

In his first days on the job, Calver plastered Capitol elevators and hallways with blood-red “Warning” placards. Below, he offered his “Ten Commandments of Health:” “Do not use common drinking cups, towels, or tableware,” “Keep away from people who are coughing or sneezing,” and other basics. He would issue his “Commandments” annually.

Calver blamed most of the congressional deaths on overwork and nervous strain, which became his mantra. But overwork seemed an odd diagnosis in the late 1920s, when Congress was in session only a few months a year. Before the 20th amendment expanded the congressional calendar in 1934 and other reforms passed, legislators routinely also held other jobs.

Calver insisted and persisted. “In all my experience as a physician,” he said, “I’ve never seen a group so high-keyed and unable to relax.”¹⁷ 

Calver continually—and publicly—scolded members for their lifestyles. He urged them, “Give five percent of your time to keeping well, and you won’t have to spend 100 percent of your time getting over being sick.” Congressmen called him “the Streamliner” for pressing them to lose weight.

“If I could get them to spend half an hour a day walking,” Calver lamented, “I’d cut the death rate in two.” Freshman Senator Harry Truman, for one, listened. As President, Truman credited Calver for starting him on a lifelong walking regimen.

A sign in Calver’s anteroom read: “Make a man live well and he will hate but respect you. If you can cure him of the ills resulting from his own folly, he will think you a saint on earth.” Some lawmakers called Calver “Saint Luke,” after the Biblical “beloved physician.”

A High Profile

Calver built a national platform, fed by speeches, radio broadcasts, and radio and print interviews. His high profile sometimes jarred. 

“Staff like that usually stayed out of the spotlight and did their jobs unobtrusively,” said Kathleen Johnson of the U.S. House historian’s office.¹⁸

A Sailor in Name Only

Still, Calver’s Capitol friends looked after his interests. In April 1930, the Senate decided it also needed a medic and extended Calver’s jurisdiction to the upper chamber. The House ignored the Senate’s resolution, but the Navy Secretary instructed Calver to “look after both houses.” His job title changed to “Attending Physician” to Congress, and he moved to larger Capitol quarters.

As Calver’s three-year congressional stint was ending, the Navy wanted to send him back to sea. Congress passed legislation to extend Calver’s detail “until otherwise provided by law,” essentially giving him a lifetime legislative appointment that removed him from Navy supervision.¹⁹

In 1934, lawmakers tried to bump Calver two grades, to rear admiral from commander. Citing Grayson’s jump to admiral, Time magazine wrote, “If Presidents can have their personal physicians promoted over seniors in service, Representatives and Senators saw no reason why they could not do likewise with Dr. George Weynes Calver.”

Calver’s star hit a snag, though, and lawmakers compromised on a one-grade promotion to captain. Still, not everybody was pleased. “The potent Navy lobby is bitterly opposing the jumping of Commander Calver over his seagoing seniors,” Time reported.

Somebody ratted Calver to Congress’s Comptroller General, who ruled Calver’s O-6 promotion illegal, saying that Congress could not legislate specific promotions in the Army and Navy, that only the services could promote military personnel. 

Congressmen began pushing a bill to promote Calver to captain with full pay and benefits, defying the comptroller general. Calver made O-6, and efforts continued to get him a star.

By this time, Calver seemed a sailor in name only. He wore his uniform only on state occasions. “Dr. Calver has virtually withdrawn from naval service because of legislation in his behalf during the last few years,” the New York Times wrote in 1936.²⁰ 

In early 1936, the Senate Appropriations Committee, known as the Favor Factory, snuck a provision into the Senate’s Naval Supply Bill, part of a mammoth appropriations package, to promote Calver to rear admiral. Calver’s champion had a sense of humor; the language was buried in a bill section titled “Care of the Dead.”

The massive bill passed the Senate, but House leaders discovered the provision when the amended bill went back to the House, and they erupted. The New York Times ran a front-page story headlined “Congress’ Doctor is Facing a Storm.”

One top congressman groused to the Times, “He was sent up here just as a courtesy and he was supposed to stay only part-time for emergencies. But he has grown into a bureaucracy.”

Lawmakers ultimately reached a spending deal with only two notable changes: Less money for construction projects and no star for Calver.

Calver finally made flag in 1946. Congress voted him $1,500 annual pay on top of his admiral’s salary.

The Family Bible

Meanwhile, Calver kept burnishing his persona as a caring doctor, friend, and family counselor. But a strategy seemed at work behind his homey aphorisms.

New lawmakers got a letter from Calver inviting them for a physical and a chat, sometimes before their certificates of election arrived. Calver asked for their health records from their personal doctors, flagging anything that needed watching.²¹

“During the physical examination he gives to new congressmen, he performs various useful and necessary scientific tests,” the Washington Star reported. “But Dr. Calver admits that his real goal during the examination is to make friends.”

“A newly elected congressman comes to Washington from his district or state on the heels of victory and a sense of importance, only to learn that he is on the bottom of the pile in Congress,” Calver said. “Very often the best prescription for this case is a friend.”²² 

As the New York Times reported, “Before the neophyte legislator realizes it, Dr. Calver has learned enough about his condition to put a medical ‘jacket’ under the congressman’s name into the voluminous files at his Capitol office.”²³

“Everybody from the Veep to the chairwoman comes to see me when they are in difficulty,” Calver said in 1952, noting his concern for mental health. “Often the chance to talk things out brings relief.”²⁴

Calver also collected intelligence in the field. He posted in the Speaker’s Lobby to surveil congressmen. He cultivated lawmakers’ wives. He seemed particularly close to Senator Royal Copeland of New York, a homeopath and Tammany hack, and with Copeland’s wife Frances. According to society pages, the Calvers attended the Copelands’ dinner for General Douglas MacArthur and the Copelands weekended at Calver’s house on the Maryland shore. When Frances Copeland broke some bones in an auto crash, she got four handwritten letters from Calver, each addressed to “My dear Frances” and signed “As ever, George.”²⁵

Calver kept all the intelligence and “top secrets” he gathered in a black leather-bound book of several hundred pages that he kept on his desk and called The Family Bible.²⁶ 

The Washington Star reported, “So many senators and representatives have taken Dr. Calver into their confidence that a saying exists on Capitol Hill: “If Doc Calver ever opened up, there wouldn’t be anything sacred left in Washington.”²⁷

Calver’s intelligence and relationships gave him leverage, and he used it. He boasted at one point: “I’m the only man senators and representatives can’t talk back to on Capitol Hill. I can cuss ‘em out, and they take it. I guess I’m the only man in Washington who can get away with it.”

But Calver also made a show of discretion. A sign in his office read: “No talkee, no tellee, no catchee hellee.” And Calver reciprocated, advocating for his patients, whom he called “an overworked, nervous and underpaid Congress.”²⁸

Calver clearly enjoyed the trappings of his power. “The expensive, official automobile used by Dr. Calver is a frequent sight about the Capitol and in Washington streets,” one paper reported. The car, provided by the Navy Department and driven by a government-paid chauffeur, bore Senate license plates. 

Capitol Hospital

Despite Calver’s efforts, he seemed to make little progress on Capitol Hill health. Heart problems raged apace during his first decade, killing an average of one lawmaker a month. Casualties grew so heavy that Calver stood up a “Capitol Hospital” in 1932, borrowing a suite from the House majority leader, and increased his staff. By the 1950s, one sitting lawmaker was dying every other month from causes attributed to heart and arterial disease. Calver kept chanting “Overwork.”

A longtime chief of staff to powerful seven-term senator Carl Hayden, whose tenure eclipsed Calver’s, described Calver as a consummate politician and a lousy medic.

I used to marvel because I swear the only reason that office at that time ran well was because Calver was at least smart enough to get some very, very bright young naval officers who were doing their terms in the military as his assistants over there . . . 

I used to say, Calver probably killed more members than he saved. The only reason that he stayed there was that the guy really understood power and politics, and he kissed both [Speaker Sam] Rayburn’s and Hayden’s a—es. And Calver used to go over there and see Mrs. Hayden after she had her stroke in the late ‘40s and sort of hold her hand. Oh, he was fabulous at that sort of thing.²⁹

By the time he retired in 1966, Vice Admiral Calver had grown his Capitol Hill empire to a staff of seventeen, including two Navy doctors. He occupied nine Capitol rooms, including laboratory, reception room, and physiology room, and ran first-aid stations throughout campus. 

Calver insisted he ignored partisan politics, that there was no difference between a Republican and Democratic bellyache. But he and Admiral Grayson were standout politicians, a seemingly essential skill in their field. As Bureau of Medicine and Surgery historian Andre Sobocinski put it, “Politics is a constant throughout Navy medicine.”