Elbert Hubbard - Conviction and Pardon

Conviction and Pardon

As the First World War loomed on the horizon, Hubbard published a great deal of related commentary in The Philistine and became anxious to cross the ocean, report on the War and land an interview with the Kaiser himself. However, there was one not-so-slight problem. Hubbard had plead guilty in the court of U.S. District Court Judge John Hazel for violating Section 211 of the penal code back in January 1913. Hubbard was convicted on one count of circulating “objectionable” (or “obscene”) matter in violation of the postal laws. Sentence was suspended on five additional counts during good behavior, but Hazel fined Hubbard $100, and the federal conviction resulted in a revocation of the publisher’s civil rights.

Ever the positive thinker, Hubbard waited just a couple of weeks and boldly requested a presidential pardon from William Howard Taft. Somehow, the administration found the audacity to discard the request as “premature.” When his application for a passport was denied in 1915, Hubbard, being who he was, decided to go directly to the White House to help himself out. There, he pled with Woodrow Wilson’s personal secretary, Joseph P. Tumulty. At the time, the President was in the middle of a cabinet meeting, but Tumulty interrupted and, as a result, the Secretary of State (William Jennings Bryan) and Attorney General Gregory were also able to hear of Hubbard’s situation and need.

Everyone instantly agreed that a pardon would be appropriate, and Elbert Hubbard’s clemency application process lasted exactly one day. Seventy-five percent of those petitioning for clemency in the fiscal year were not nearly so fortunate (or positive in their thinking). Their requests were denied, adversely reported, or no action whatsoever was taken. But Hubbard sailed through the process, and no one felt any need at all to defend the President’s decision in public statements. The Department of Justice conducted no investigation.

Hubbard accepted Wilson’s pardon, obtained a passport and, on May 1, 1915, joined his wife and 2,200 other passengers aboard a luxurious 785-foot British commercial steam ship. Despite the crowd, reporters and photographers had no problem spotting the long-haired Hubbard as he walked up and down the deck in his white suit and Stetson hat, devouring apples and chatting about international politics. The fifty-five year old “sage” (who had often held up the possibility that he would live to be one hundred) planned on sending a “diary” of his travels from London via cable.