that, indeed, an argument can be madernthat Watergate most certainly madernthem worse.rnWhile it is Republican Presidentsrnwho ha’e come under the scrutiny ofrnimcstigations, committee hearings, andrnspecial prosecutions searching for impeachablernoffenses, it is perhaps thernDemocrats (more specifically, Jimmy-rnCarter; honeymooning Bill Clintonrndoesn’t vet count) since Watergate whornhave paid the greatest price for this congressionalrncoup. As Professor Ambrosernpoints out, while being run up a tree byrnWatergate Nixon offered welfare reform,rncampaign reform, universal health insurance,rndetente with the Soviets (thankrnCod we didn’t get that), and peace inrnthe Khddie East. Congress still wouldn’trncall off the dogs. In his epilogue, ProfessorrnAmbrose notes what we couldrnhave had had Nixon not resigned, andrnhe offers the thought that, as a directrnresult of the resignation, we got RonaldrnReagan a few ears down the road and arnmuch more conservative political clinraterninstead. Ambrose misses the point.rnIt was not until the first term of the Reaganrnpresidency that the executive branchrnreachiced self-governance. It didn’trnlast, as Iran-Contra—a very dubious inquisitionrninto presidential “law-breaking”rn—was to prove in the second term.rnMeanwhile, a post-Watergate, “reformed”rnCongress expanded its privileges,rnraised its wages, and lined itsrnpockets with huge contributions fromrnpolitical action committees. If Congressrnsaw no incentie in making a deal withrnRichard Nixon to cure the nation’s illsrnin return for forgiving—or at least forgettingrn—Watergate, then what in thernworld would lead one to suppose thatrnCongress would give in to a less vulnerablern—e’cn Democratic—President, underrnwhom it could feed even more offrnspecial interests and maintain gridlock?rnThis is the continuing story of Watergate,rnof why it is so difficult—evenrnwith a Democratic administration comingrnto power—to ‘icw it as history. Asrnfor Richard Nixon, the enigma remains.rnOne hopes that Roger Morris, anotherrnNixon biographer, will give us in futurernvolumes more insight about the manrnand less inside baseball about the scandalrnthat wrecked not only his presidencyrnbut perhaps our separation of powers asrnJames 11 ill is editor of the Perspectivernsection of the Arizona Republic.rnGolden Days of Yorernby H.W. Crocker IIIrnThe Reporter Who Would Be King: ArnBiography of Richard Harding Davisrnby Arthur LubowrnNew York: Charles Scribner’s Sons;rn438 pp., $25.00rnRichard Harding Davis exemplifiedrnthe all-American ideal of Anglo-rnSaxon manhood—a chivalrous adventurerrnof spotless character and intentions,rnsporting, always in favor of thernunderdog, not too intellectual, and neverrnwithout a clean starched shirt and arnportable bathtub, no matter where hisrncareer as an intrepid reporter and warrncorrespondent might take him.rnAt the turn of the century he was thernmost celebrated war correspondent inrnthe country. He was also a successfulrnshort-storv writer, novelist, and playwright,rnas well as the square-jawed malerncounterpart to the Gibson Girl. As arnstar reporter he crafted rather creativerncrime stories, was on the scene at thernJohnstown flood, immortalized TeddyrnRoosevelt’s charge up San Juan (actuallyrnKettle) Hill and was captured andrnnearly sentenced to death by the Germansrnat the start of the First Worid War.rnDavid also covered the Boer War—arnwar that brought out much of his characterrnin fine form. Though Davis hadrnmany English friends and idealized thernEnglish country gentleman, he sidedrnwith the Boers. Not only were the thernunderdog, but, as his biographer pointsrnout, Davis saw the war “as a clash of cultures,rnand characteristically, he favoredrnthe old-fashioned and picturesque oerrnthe brutally modern.” The war alsorntouched his sense of chivalry. Thoughrnthis might not shock our coarser naturesrntoday, Davis believed, “It is not becomingrnthat the British army should fightrnagainst women even if they are goodrnshots.” Of course, Davis had never metrnour old bore Patricia Sehrocder.rnNevertheless, the all-American boyrnand his close-knit family had their sharernof woe. Davis never consummated hisrnmarriage with his first wife, who, the authorrnhints heavily, was a lesbian, and hisrnsecond wife was insecure and jealous.rnDais’s sister, who was a close friend ofrnhis first wife, married a homosexual Anglicanrnpriest, and Davis’s brother, tornwhom he was devoted, died without issue.rnDavis himself fathered one daughter,rnbut he died before she was two yearsrnold.rnWe honor and remember some ofrnDavis’s contemporaries—like FredericrnRemington and Stephen Crane—whilernneglecting the golden boy of war correspondents,rnat least in part because wernno longer share his all-American ideals.rnIndeed, those ideals were coming underrnattack even in the twilight hours of hisrnown day. As one satirist mocked himrnin 1915, the year before Davis’s death:rn”A perfect day, for Mr. Davis, wouldrnconsist of a morning’s danger, taken as arnmatter of course; in the afternoon a littlernchivalry, equally a matter-of-course to arnwell-bred man; then a motor dash fromrnhardship to some great city, a bath, arnperfect dinner nobly planned. Shrapnel,rnchivalry, sauce mousseline, and sornto work the next morning. . . . RichardrnCoeur-de-Lion would not have dislikedrnsuch a day, once he was used to thernshrapnel.” But the satirist continues on:rn”Ha’e vou never, although ‘ou may bernrather chivalrous yourself, in a modestrnway, risen from the perusal of Mr. Davisrnon chivalry with a determination neverrnagain, no matter how infirm the womanrnstanding in front of you might be, orrnhow heavy-laden, to rise from your seatrnin the ear for her sake?” Well, if you have,rnyou’re a cad. But then again, that’s whatrnwe’re supposed to be nowadays, aren’trnwe? James Dean, Jack Nicholson, AxlrnRose—need one say more?rnAlmost everything about Davis cutsrnagainst the grain of modern insensibilityrn—not just his chaste, knightly ideals,rnbut his lack of pruder} about tobacco.rnNot only did he campaign repeatedlyrnfor more tobacco supplies for hardpressedrnservicemen (he thought tobaccornshortages were no small hardship), butrntobacco was the point of one of his mostrnmoving passages about the Boer War.rnAt the relief of Ladvsmith, Davis camernacross two drawn, tired, but stiff upperlippedrnEnglish officers of the sort he stillrnadmired even while cheering on thernBoers. He gave them each a cigar.rn”They lit the cigars and at the first tasternof the smoke—and they were not goodrncigars—an almost inhuman expressionrnof peace and good-will and utter abandonmentrnto joy spread over their yellowrnskins and cracked lips and fever-lit eyes.rnThe first man dropped his reins and putrnhis hands on his hips and threw back hisrnFEBRUARY 1993/33rnrnrn