Early in January, 1916, German sympathizers throughout the country began a drive on both Houses of Congress for the passage of a resolution warning or forbidding Americans to travel on passenger ships belonging to citizens or subjects of the belligerent nations. Petitions of various kinds, demanding vigorous action in this matter, began to pour in upon us at the White House from various parts of the country. While these petitions were signed by many devoted, patriotic Americans, it was clear to those of us who were on the inside of affairs that there lay back of this movement a sinister purpose on the part of German sympathizers in this country to give Germany full sway upon the high seas, in order that she might be permitted to carry on her unlawful and inhuman submarine warfare. This movement became so intense that leading Democratic and Republican senators and representatives soon became its ardent advocates, until it looked as if the resolution might pass with only a small minority found in opposition to it. Those of us who were in the Executive offices, and intimately associated with the President, kept in close touch with the situation on Capitol Hill and were advised that the movement for the resolution was in full swing and that it could not be checked. A resolution was finally introduced by Representative McLemore, of Texas, and quickly received the support of Senator Gore of Oklahoma, and Senator Stone of Missouri, chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations. What the attitude of the President should be toward it was the subject of discussion between the President, two of his Cabinet officers, and myself, after a session of the Cabinet early in February, 1916.
The President was advised by the Cabinet officers with whom he conferred regarding the matter that it would be a hopeless task on his part to attempt to stem the tide that was now running in favour of the passage of the McLemore resolution, and that were he to attempt to prevent its passage it might result in a disastrous defeat of his leadership, that would seriously embarrass him on Capitol Hill and throughout the nation.
At the conclusion of this conference the President asked me whether my information about affairs on Capitol Hill and the attitude of the members of the House and Senate toward the McLemore resolution was in accord with the information he had just received from his Cabinet officers. I told him that it was, but that so far as I was concerned I did not share the opinion of the Cabinet officers and did not agree with the advice which they had volunteered, to the effect that it would be useless for him to throw down the gage of battle to those who sought to pass the McLemore resolution. I informed him that regardless of what the attitude of those on Capitol Hill was toward the resolution, he could not afford to allow the matter to pass without a protest from him, and that, indeed, he could afford to be defeated in making a fight to maintain American rights upon the high seas. The discussion between the President, the Cabinet officers, and myself became heated. They were reluctant to have the President go into the fight, while I was most anxious to have him do so. Evidently, what I said made an impression upon the President and he asked me, as our conference was concluded, to let him have as soon as possible a memorandum containing my views upon the subject.
Shortly after the conference, Senator Stone, chairman of the Committee on Foreign Relations of the Senate, asked for an appointment with the President, to confer with him on the next morning, February 25th, regarding the McLemore resolution. I suggested to the President that inasmuch as Senator Stone was to see him in the morning it would be wise and prudent if, in answer to his letter asking for an appointment, the President should frankly state his views with reference to the proposed resolution. The President acted upon this suggestion and the letter was immediately dispatched to Senator Stone.
My letter to the President, advising him of the situation, was as follows:
February 24, 1916.
What I have heard since leaving you this morning confirms me in my belief that now is the time (before the night passes) to set forth your position to the country on the McLemore resolution in terms that no one can misunderstand. In the last hour I have talked with Speaker Clark, Senator Pittman, and Mr. Sims of Tennessee, and have received impressions from them which lead me to conclude: first, that the consideration of this resolution cannot much longer be postponed, as Speaker Clark so informed me, although Congressman Doremus and Senator Pittman say the situation on the hill is quieting down. I am more than convinced that underlying this resolution is a purpose to discredit your leadership, for the forces that are lined up for this fight against you are the anti-preparedness crowd, the Bryan-Kitchen-Clark group, and some of the anti-British Senators like Hoke Smith and Gore. Therefore, I cannot urge you too strongly at once to send an identic letter to both Representative Flood, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee of the House, and Senator Stone, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee of the Senate. The letter, in my opinion, should embody the following ideas:
First, explain in the frankest fashion just what Secretary Lansing attempted to obtain when he suggested to the Entente nations an agreement on the arming of merchantmen, how this government was informed by Germany of her intention to destroy armed merchantmen without giving the passengers a moment of warning, and how, in order to stave off such a contingency, we tried as the friend and in the interest of humanity to get an agreement between both sides that would bring submarine warfare within the bounds of international law.
Second, explain that a possible adjustment of this matter is in process of negotiation right now, and that, of course, while we cannot change international law upon our own initiative, we are still of the hope that some general agreement among the belligerents may eventually be obtained. Explain how embarrassing such a resolution as the McLemore one will be to negotiations now being threshed out between the executive branches of the Government charged with the conduct of foreign relations, and foreign governments.
Third, then say that in the absence of any general agreement, the United States cannot yield one inch of her rights without destroying the whole fabric of international law, for in the last analysis this is what is involved. To yield one right to-day means another to- morrow. We cannot know where this process of yielding on the ground of convenience or expediency may lead us. These laws are the product of centuries. Our forefathers fought to establish their validity, and we cannot afford for the sake of convenience when our very life is threatened, to abandon them on any ground of convenience or expediency.
Fourth, to pass such a resolution at this time would seriously embarrass the Department of State and the Executive in the conduct of these most delicate matters at a time when everything is being done to bring about a peaceful solution of these problems.
Fifth, might you not diplomatically suggest, in your letter to Senator Stone, that to pass favorably upon a resolution of this kind at this time would be showing lack of confidence in the Government, and particularly in its Chief Executive?
The morning papers have outlined the details of the opposition among the Democrats. The afternoon papers are repeating the same thing with emphasis on the fact that Joe Cannon, Jim Mann, and Lodge are going to support you. I would suggest that you insert the following in your letter to Senator Stone:
"I think that not only would such a vote on this resolution be construed as a lack of confidence in the executive branch of the Government in this most delicate matter but if the division continues as I am informed within the ranks of the Democratic party, it will be difficult for me to consider that the majority party speaks the will of the nation in these circumstances and as between any faction in my party and the interests of the nation, I must always choose the latter, irrespective of what the effect will be on me or my personal fortunes. What we are contending for in this matter is of the very essence of the things that have made America a sovereign nation. She cannot yield them without admitting and conceding her own impotency as a nation and the surrender of her independent position among the nations of the world."
Sincerely,TUMULTY.
The letter of the President to Senator Stone was published in the morning papers of February 25, 1916, and is as follows:
February 25, 1916.
I very warmly appreciate your kind and frank letter of to-day, and feel that it calls for an equally frank reply. You are right in assuming that I shall do everything in my power to keep the United States out of war. I think the country will feel no uneasiness about my course in that respect. Through many anxious months I have striven for that object, amid difficulties more manifold than can have been apparent upon the surface, and so far I have succeeded. I do not doubt that I shall continue to succeed.
The course which the central European powers have announced their intention of following in the future with regard to undersea warfare seems for the moment to threaten insuperable obstacles, but its apparent meaning is so manifestly inconsistent with explicit assurances recently given us by those powers with regard to their treatment of merchant vessels on the high seas that I must believe that explanations will presently ensue which will put a different aspect upon it. We have had no reason to question their good faith or their fidelity to their promises in the past, and I for one feel confident that we shall have none in the future.
But in any event our duty is clear. No nation, no group of nations, has the right, while war is in progress, to alter or disregard the principles which all nations have agreed upon in mitigation of the horrors and sufferings of war; and if the clear rights of American citizens should very unhappily be abridged or denied by any such action we should, it seems to me, have in honour no choice as to what our own course should be.
For my own part I cannot consent to any abridgment of the rights of American citizens in any respect. The honour and self-respect of the nation is involved. We covet peace, and shall preserve it at any cost but the loss of honor. To forbid our people to exercise their rights for fear we might be called upon to vindicate them would be a deep humiliation, indeed. It would be an implicit, all but an explicit, acquiescence in the violation of the rights of mankind everywhere and of whatever nation or allegiance. It would be a deliberate abdication of our hitherto proud position as spokesmen, even amid the turmoil of war, for the law and the right. It would make everything this government has attempted and everything that it has accomplished during this terrible struggle of nations meaningless and futile.
It is important to reflect that if in this instance we allowed expediency to take the place of principle the door would inevitably be opened to still further concessions. Once accept a single abatement of right, and many other humiliations would follow, and the whole fine fabric of international law might crumble under our hands piece by piece. What we are contending for in this matter is of the very essence of the things that have made America a sovereign nation. She cannot yield them without conceding her own impotency as a nation and making virtual surrender of her independent position among the nations of the world.
I am speaking, my dear Senator, in deep solemnity, without heat, with a clear consciousness of the high responsibilities of my office and as your sincere and devoted friend. If we should unhappily differ, we shall differ as friends, but where issues so momentous as these are involved we must, just because we are friends, speak our minds without reservation.
Faithfully yours,WOODROW WILSON.
SENATOR WILLIAM J. STONE,United States Senate.
The publication of the letter of the President to Senator Stone worked a complete reversal of opinion on the Hill.
Quickly the effect of the President's letter was seen, and the McLemore resolution was overwhelmingly defeated.
Early in August, 1916, the President took up his residence at Shadow Lawn, New Jersey, and began the preparation of his speech of acceptance. He forwarded me a draft of this speech which brought from me the following comment upon it:
August 22, 1916.
I think the failure to bring out the hyphen question in your speech of acceptance will be vigorously criticized even by our loyal friends. Mr. Hughes will soon be compelled to speak out on this question. Roosevelt's speeches in the main will force him to do this. You might open the subject in that part of your speech in which you discuss neutrality, showing the embarrassments under which you have laboured in trying to keep the Nation at peace. After discussing these embarrassments, consisting of plots against our industries, etc., could you not introduce a sentence like this?: "While I am the candidate of the Democratic party, I am above all else an American citizen. I neither seek the favour nor fear the wrath of any alien element in America which puts loyalty to any foreign power first."
As to Huerta: I believe your reference to him could be strengthened. I think you ought to bring out the fact that the work of assassination shall never receive the endorsement, so far as you are concerned, of this American Republic. I suggest the following: "The United States will refuse, so long as that power remains with me, to extend the hand of welcome to one who gains power in a republic through treachery and bloodshed." (This is not only sound statesmanship but good morals.) "No permanency in the affairs of our sister republics can be attained by a title based upon intrigue and assassination."
Respectfully,TUMULTY.
The President, always welcoming advice, approved and embodied some of these suggestions in his speech of acceptance.
It has often been said by unfair critics that Mr. Wilson was so tenacious of his own opinion and views that he resented suggestions from the outside in any matter with which he was called upon to deal.
As an intimate associate of his for eleven years, I think I was in a position to find out and to know how unfair the basis of this criticism really was. In my contact with public men I never met a more open-minded man; nor one who was more willing to act upon any suggestion that had merit in it. I have seen him readily give up his own views and often yield to the influence of a better argument. I always felt free in every public matter that he discussed and in every attitude which he took on public questions frankly to express my own opinion and openly to disagree with him. In his speeches and public statements he had no pride of opinion, nor did he attempt to hold his friends off at arms' length when they had suggestions of any kind to make.
[Illustration:
Dear Tumulty,
Here is the expurgated stuff. Do what you please with it.
* * * * *
19 Nov., 1916.
Dear Tumulty,
Here is the message. I wish you would read it and give me your impression of it.
And please keep it very carefully from any eyes but your own. It is still in provisional shape only, and there are a number of points I am still keeping under advisement.
Faithfully, (signed) W. W.
* * * * *
17 May, 1916.
Dear Tumulty,
Thank you for the memorandum about peace suggestions. I have read it very carefully and find my own thoughts travelling very much the same route. You may be sure I am doing a great deal of serious thinking about it all.
Faithfully, (signed) W. W.
Some insights into day-to-day affairs at the White House]
In these reminiscences I am including my letters to him, embodying suggestions of various kinds, many of which he acted upon and many of which he rejected, in order that proof may be given of the fact, that despite what his critics may say, he not only did not resent suggestions, but openly invited them.
After the delivery of the speech of acceptance on September 2nd quiet ruled over the Wilson camp at Shadow Lawn. This lull in the matter of politics was intensified by the President's absence from Shadow Lawn because of the death of his only sister, which called him away and for a while took his mind and his energies from the discussion of politics.
On September 11th, the state elections in Maine were carried by the Republicans. The total vote was the largest ever cast in Maine in a state election. The Republican majorities ranged from 9,000 to 14,000. There had been a vigorous contest in Maine by both parties and the Republicans were greatly heartened by the result in the hope that "as goes Maine so goes the Union."
There is no doubt that the result in Maine, which many Democrats were of the opinion was a forecast of the results throughout the nation in November, had a depressing effect. The Republicans accepted it as a harbinger of victory and the Democrats as an indication of defeat. On the night of the Maine elections I kept close to the telephone at the Executive offices and engaged in conferences with two or three practical politicians from New Jersey. It was interesting to watch the effects of the returns from Maine upon these men. When the returns, as complete as we could get them at twelve o'clock on the night of September 11th, came in, James Nugent, one of the leading politicians of Essex County, New Jersey, who was in the room, took from my desk a copy of the "World Almanac", and referring to the returns of previous elections, said: "Of course, the Republicans will hail this as a great victory, but if they will sit down and analyze the gains they have made, they will find no comfort in them, for to me they indicate a Democratic victory in November. If the Democrats make proportionate gains in other states, you can absolutely count upon a Democratic victory in 1916."
This prophecy was verified by the results of the election of November 7th.
It was difficult and almost impossible between the date of the speech of acceptance and the first of October to revive interest in the Democratic campaign and to bring about a renewal of hope of success that had almost been destroyed by the psychological results of the Maine election.
Frequent demands were made upon us at the Executive offices at Asbury Park to get busy and to do something. "Wilson was not on the front page and Hughes was busily engaged in campaigning throughout the West." But the President in his uncanny way knew better than we the psychological moment to strike. He went about his work at the Executive offices and gave to us who were closely associated with him the impression that nothing unusual was afoot and that no Presidential campaign was impending. I made frequent suggestions to him that he be up and doing. He would only smile and calmly say: "The moment is not here. Let them use up their ammunition and then we will turn our guns upon them."
The psychological moment came, and the President took full advantage of it. One afternoon in September the President telephoned me at the Executive offices at Asbury Park to have the newspaper men present for a conference that afternoon; that he would give out a reply to a telegram he had received. With the newspaper group, I attended this conference. It appeared that an Irish agitator named Jeremiah O'Leary, who had been organizing and speaking against the President and trying to array the Irish vote against him, wrote an offensive letter to the President, calling attention to the results of the Maine elections and to the New Jersey primaries, and to his anticipated defeat in November. The President handed to the newspaper men the following reply to O'Leary:
I would feel deeply mortified to have you or anybody like you vote for me. Since you have access to many disloyal Americans and I have not, I will ask you to convey this message to them.
This sharp and timely rebuke to the unpatriotic spirit to which O'Leary gave expression won the hearty and unanimous approval of the country to the President. Nothing like this bold defiance came from Hughes until a few days before the election.
The Democratic campaign, within twenty-four hours after the publication of the O'Leary telegram, was on again in full swing.
At this same newspaper conference the President, who had not seen the newspaper group since his arrival at Long Branch, discussed the campaign, so that they might have what he called the "inside of his mind." His criticism of the campaign that Justice Hughes was conducting contained bitter irony and, sarcasm. Evidently, the petty things to which Mr. Hughes had adverted in his campaign speeches by way of criticizing the President and his administration had cut the President to the quick. One of the newspaper men asked him what he thought of Mr. Hughes' campaign, and he laughingly replied: "If you will give that gentleman rope enough he will hang himself. He has forgotten many things since he closeted himself on the bench, and he will soon find himself out of touch with the spirit of the nation. His speeches are nothing more or less than blank cartridges and the country, unless I mistake the people very much, will place a true assessment upon them."
The newspaper men left this conference heartened by the reply he had made to O'Leary and with the firm conviction that the Democratic candidate was just "playing" with Hughes and would pounce upon him at the psychological moment.
In the delivery of the campaign speeches at Shadow Lawn each Saturday afternoon President Wilson took full advantage of the swing toward the Democratic side which was manifest after the publication of the famous O'Leary telegram. While the Republican candidate was busily engaged in invading the West in his swing around the circle, the Democratic candidate each week from his porch at Shadow Lawn was delivering sledge-hammer blows at the Republican breastworks. As the Republican candidate in an effort to win the West was heaping maledictions upon Dr. E. Lester Jones, the head of the Geodetic Survey, a Wilson appointee, the President calmly moved on, ripping to pieces and tearing to shreds the poor front behind which the Republican managers were seeking to win the fight.
Mr. Hughes campaigned like a lawyer, Mr. Wilson like a statesman. Mr. Hughes was hunting small game with bird shot, Mr. Wilson trained heavy artillery on the enemies' central position. The essential difference between the two men and the operations of their minds was made clear in the campaign. No one would wish to minimize the unusual abilities of Mr. Hughes, but they are the abilities of an adroit lawyer. He makes "points." He pleases those minds which like cleverness and finesse. He deals with international affairs like an astute lawyer drawing a brief. But has he ever quickened the nation's pulse or stirred its heart by a single utterance? Did he ever make any one feel that behind the formalities of law, civil or international, he detected the heartbeats of humanity whom law is supposedly designed to serve? Mr. Wilson was not thinking of Mr. Hughes, but perhaps he was thinking of the type of which Mr. Hughes is an eminent example when he said in Paris: "This is not to be a lawyers' peace."
Every speech of President Wilson's was, to use a baseball phrase, a home run for the Democratic side. They were delivered without much preparation and were purely extemporaneous in character. The Republican opposition soon began to wince under the smashing blows delivered by the Democratic candidate, and outward proof was soon given of the fear and despair that were now gathering in the Republican ranks. With a few short trips to the West, and his final speech at Long Branch, President Wilson closed his campaign, with Democratic hopes on the rise.
The happenings of Election Day, 1916, will long linger in my memory. I was in charge of the Executive offices located at Asbury Park, while the President remained at Shadow Lawn, awaiting the news of the first returns from the country. The first scattered returns that filtered in to the Executive offices came from a little fishing town in Massachusetts early in the afternoon of Election Day, which showed a slight gain for the President over the election returns of 1912. Then followed early drifts from Colorado and Kansas, which showed great Wilson gains. Those of us who were interested in the President's cause were made jubilant by these early returns. Every indication, though imperfect, up to seven o'clock on the night of the election, forecasted the President's reëlection.
In the early afternoon the President telephoned the Executive offices to inquire what news we had received from the country and he was apprised of the results that had come in up to that time. Then, quickly, the tide turned against us in the most unusual way. Between seven and nine o'clock the returns slowly came in from the East and Middle West that undeniably showed a drift away from us.
About nine-thirty o'clock in the evening I was seated in my office, when a noise outside in the hallway attracted my attention and gave me the impression that something unusual was afoot. The door of my office opened and there entered a galaxy of newspaper men connected with the White House offices, led by a representative of the New YorkWorld, who held in his hands a bulletin from his office, carrying the news of Hughes' election. The expression in the men's faces told me that a crisis was at hand. TheWorldman delivered his fateful message of defeat for our forces, without explanation of any kind. To me the blow was stunning, for the New YorkWorldhad been one of our staunchest supporters throughout the whole campaign and yet, I had faith to believe that the news carried in the bulletin would be upset by subsequent returns. Steadying myself behind my desk, I quickly made up my mind as to what my reply should be to theWorldbulletin and to the query of the newspaper men whether we were ready to "throw up the sponge" and concede Hughes' election. Concealing the emotion I felt, I dictated the following statement, which was flashed through the country:
When Secretary Tumulty was shown theWorldbulletin, conceding Hughes' election, he authorized the following statement: "Wilson will win. The West has not yet been heard from. Sufficient gains will be made in the West and along the Pacific slope to offset the losses in the East."
Shortly after the flash from theWorldbulletin was delivered to me, conceding Hughes' election, the President again telephoned me from Long Branch to find out the latest news of the election. From what he said he had already been apprised by Admiral Grayson of the bulletin of the New YorkWorld. Every happening of that memorable night is still fresh in my memory and I recall distinctly just what the President said and how philosophically he received the news of his apparent defeat. Laughingly he said: "Well, Tumulty, it begins to look as if we have been badly licked." As he discussed the matter with me I could detect no note of sadness in his voice. In fact, I could hear him chuckle over the 'phone. He seemed to take an impersonal view of the whole thing and talked like a man from whose shoulders a great load had been lifted and now he was happy and rejoicing that he was a free man again. When I informed him of the drifts in our favour from other parts of the country and said that it was too early to concede anything, he said: "Tumulty, you are an optimist. It begins to look as if the defeat might be overwhelming. The only thing I am sorry for, and that cuts me to the quick, is that the people apparently misunderstood us. But I have no regrets. We have tried to do our duty." So far as he was concerned, the issue of the election was disposed of, out of the way and a settled thing. That was the last telephone message between the President and myself until twenty-four hours later, when the tide turned again in our favour.
An unusual incident occurred about 8:30 o'clock in the evening, shortly after my talk with the President. I was called to the telephone and told that someone in New York wished to speak to me on a highly important matter. I went to the 'phone. At the other end in New York was an individual who refusing to give his name, described himself as a friend of our cause. I thought he was one of the varieties of crank, with whom I had been accustomed to deal at the White House on frequent occasions during my life there; but there was something about his talk that convinced me that he was in close touch with someone in authority at Republican headquarters. In his first talk with me, and in subsequent talks during the night of the election and on the following day, there was a warning to us, in no way, or by the slightest sign, to give up the fight, or to concede Hughes' election. He said: "Early returns will naturally run against Wilson in the East, particularly in Illinois and Iowa," and intimated to me that the plan at Republican headquarters would be to exaggerate these reports and to overwhelm us with news of Republican victories throughout the country. Continuing his talk he said: "The Wilson fight will be won in the West. I shall keep you advised of what is happening in Republican headquarters. I can only tell you that I willknowwhat is happening and you may rely upon the information I shall give you."
All night long the loyal newspaper men and I kept vigil at the Executive offices. As I read over the bulletins that came to me, particularly those from Republican headquarters in New York, I was quick to notice that although the Republican managers were blatantly proclaiming to the country that the fight was over, for some reason or other, the Republican candidate, Mr. Hughes, who was at his headquarters at the Hotel Astor, was silent.
Just about this time there was another message from the mysterious stranger in New York. The message, as I recall it, was as follows: "They [meaning the Republican managers] are trying to induce Hughes to claim the election, but he is unwilling to make an announcement and is asking for further returns. You boys stand pat. Returns that are now coming in are worrying them. Don't be swept off your feet by claims from Republican headquarters. I know what is happening there."
Shortly after this telephone message came a bulletin from Republican headquarters, stating that the Republican managers were then in conference with Mr. Hughes and that a statement from Mr. Hughes would soon be forthcoming. This unusual coincidence convinced me that the man who was telephoning me either was on the inside of affairs at Republican headquarters, or had an uncanny way of knowing just what the managers were doing.
Up to eleven o'clock every bit of news ran against us. Finally, the BrooklynEagle, a supporter of the President, and then the New YorkTimes, our last line of defense, gave way and conceded Hughes' election, but the unterrified Democrats at the Executive offices stood out against any admission of defeat.
The mysterious stranger was again on the wire, saying that there was consternation in the Republican ranks; that George Perkins had just conferred with National Chairman Willcox and had left Willcox's room, shaking his head and saying to one of the attachés of headquarters, that "things were not looking well." A few minutes later a bulletin came from Republican headquarters confirming the story the mysterious stranger had just told over the 'phone.
All the while I was keeping in touch with our headquarters in New York City, and about 10:30 o'clock Robert W. Woolley, the publicity man of the Democratic National Committee, 'phoned me and advised me not to concede anything and assured me that the returns from the West, now coming in greater drifts, indicated Wilson's reelection.
When I left the telephone booth, David Lawrence, the Washington correspondent of the New YorkEvening Post, who a few weeks before had predicted, in a remarkable article, the election of Wilson, and who was my friend and co-labourer during that night (in conjunction with Mr. L. Ames Brown, a noted newspaper man of Washington, connected with the Democratic National Committee) conferred with me, and from a table he had prepared showed me how the small states of the West, which the returns indicated were now coming into the Wilson column, would elect the Democratic candidate, and that under no circumstances must we, by any chance, in any statement, concede the election of Hughes.
All night long telephone messages, very brief, would come from the mysterious stranger in New York, and quickly there would follow bulletins from Republican headquarters confirming everything that he said. These messages came so rapidly that I was soon convinced that this individual, whoever he was, had the real inside of the Republican situation. So convinced was I that I followed up my statement of the early evening with additional statements, claiming the election for Mr. Wilson.
Just about the break of day on Wednesday morning, as David Lawrence, Ames Brown, and my son Joe, were seated in my office, a room which overlooked a wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean, we were notified by Democratic headquarters of the first big drift toward Wilson. Ohio, which in the early evening had been claimed by the Republicans, had turned to Wilson by an approximate majority of sixty thousand; Kansas followed; Utah was leaning toward him; North Dakota and South Dakota inclining the same way. The Wilson tide began to rise appreciably from that time on, until state after state from the West came into the Wilson column. At five o'clock in the morning the New YorkTimesand the New YorkWorldrecanted and were now saying that the election of Mr. Hughes was doubtful.
Without sleep and without food, those of us at the Executive offices kept close to the telephone wire. We never left the job for a minute. The last message from the mysterious stranger came about one o'clock, the day following the election, when he 'phoned me that, "George Perkins is now at Republican headquarters and is telephoning Roosevelt and will soon leave to inform Roosevelt that, to use his own words, 'the jig is up,' and that Wilson is elected." Shortly after, from Republican headquarters came a bulletin saying: "George Perkins is on his way to confer with Mr. Roosevelt."
Some months after the election the mysterious stranger came to the White House offices, and without identifying himself, informed me that he was the individual who on the night of the election had kept me in touch with Republican headquarters, and then astounded me by telling me that in some mysterious way, which he did not disclose, he had succeeded in breaking in on the Republican National Committee wire and had listened in on every conversation that had passed between Willcox, Hughes, George Perkins, Harvey, and Theodore Roosevelt himself during the night of the election and the day following.
Mr. Wilson arose the morning after the election, confident that he had been defeated. He went about his tasks in the usual way. The first news that he received that there had been a turn in the tide came from his daughter, Margaret, who knocked on the door of the bathroom while the President was shaving and told him of the "Extra" of the New YorkTimes, saying that the election was in doubt, with indications of a Wilson victory. The President thought that his daughter was playing a practical joke on him and told her to "tell that to the Marines," and went on about his shaving.
When the President and I discussed the visit of his daughter, Margaret, to notify him of his reëlection, he informed me that he was just beginning to enjoy the reaction of defeat when he was notified that the tide had turned in his favour. This will seem unusual, but those of us who were close to the man and who understood the trials and tribulations of the Presidency, knew that he was in fact for the first time in four years enjoying the freedom of private life.
Mr. Wilson's imperturbability on election night was like that of sturdy Grover Cleveland, though temperamentally the men were unlike. Mr. Cleveland used to tell his friends how in 1884 he had gone to bed early not knowing who was elected, and how he learned the news of his election next morning from his valet, after having first made inquiries about the state of the weather. In 1892 Mr. Cleveland, his wife, and two friends played a quiet game of cards while the returns were coming in. In reciting these reminiscences, the old warrior used to say that he never could understand the excitement of candidates on election nights. "The fight is all over then," he would say, "and it is merely a matter of counting the ballots." Mr. Wilson preserved the same calmness, which appeared almost like indifference. In 1912 he sat in the sitting room of his little cottage in Cleveland Lane in Princeton quietly reading from one of his favourite authors and occasionally joining in the conversation of Mrs. Wilson and a few neighbours who had dropped in. In a rear room there was a telegraphic ticker, an operator, and some newspaper boys who at intervals would take an especially interesting bulletin in to Mr. Wilson, who would glance at it casually, make some brief comment, and then return to his book. One of the guests of the evening who read in a newspaper next day a rather melodramatic and entirely imaginative account of the scene, said: "The only dramatic thing about the evening was that there was nothing dramatic."
While President Wilson was giving his whole thought and effort to the solution of exacting domestic tasks, the European war broke upon him and thus turned his attention and study to the age-long and complicated political struggle between Germany, France, and England.
Fully conscious from the very beginning of the difficulties that lay in his path, he was aware of the eventualities the war now beginning might lead to. As a profound student of history he saw with a clear vision the necessity of neutrality and of America remaining disentangled in every way from the embroilments of Europe. To the people of the country it at first appeared that the war was one more in a long series of European quarrels and that we must play our part in the great conflict as mere spectators and strictly adhere to the American policy of traditional aloofness and isolation, which had been our immemorial custom and habit. Although we were bound to maintain a policy of isolation, Woodrow Wilson from the beginning foresaw its futility, and afterward gave expression to this conviction in a campaign speech in 1916, when he said:
This is the last war [meaning the World War] of its kind or of any kind that involves the world that the United States can keep out of. I say that because I believe that the business of neutrality is over; not because I want it to be over, but I mean this, that war now has such a scale that the position of neutrals sooner or later becomes intolerable.
He knew how difficult it would be to keep a people so variously constituted strictly neutral. No sooner was his proclamation of neutrality announced than the differences in points of view in racial stocks began to manifest themselves in language both intemperate and passionate, until his advice to his country "to be neutral in fact as well as in name" became a dead and spiritless thing.
I have often been asked if the policy of neutrality which the President announced, and which brought a fire of criticism upon him, represented his own personal feelings toward the European war, and whether if he had been a private citizen, he would have derided it as now his critics were engaged in doing.
As an intimate associate of Woodrow Wilson during the whole of the European war, and witnessing from day to day the play of his feelings, especially after the violation of the neutrality of Belgium, I am certain that had he been free to do so he would have yielded to the impulse of championing a cause that in his heart of hearts he felt involved the civilization of the world. But it was his devotion to the idea of trusteeship that held him in check, and the consciousness that in carrying out that trusteeship he had no right to permit his own passionate feelings to govern his public acts.
It would have been a dramatic adventure to accept Germany's assault on Belgium as a challenge to the humane interest of America, but the acceptance would have been only a gesture, for we were unable to transport armies to the theatre of war in time to check the outrage. Such action would have pleased some people in the East, but the President knew that this quixotic knight errantry would not appeal to the country at large, particularly the West, still strongly grounded in the Washingtonian tradition of non-interference in European quarrels.
Colonel Roosevelt himself, who subsequently attacked so strongly the "pusillanimity" of the Administration's course, said on September 23, 1914:
A deputation of Belgians has arrived in this country to invoke our assistance in the time of their dreadful need. What action our government can or will take I know not. It has been announced that no action can be taken that will interfere with our entire neutrality. It is certainly eminently desirable that we should remain entirely neutral and nothing but urgent need would warrant breaking our neutrality and taking sides one way or the other.
It was not the policy of a weakling or a timid man. It was the policy of a prudent leader and statesman, who was feeling his way amid dangers and who as an historian himself knew the difficulties of an imprudent or incautious move.
I recall the day he prepared his neutrality proclamation. At the end of one of the most strenuous days of his life in Washington, he left the Executive offices where he was engaged in meeting and conferring with senators and congressmen, and I found him comfortably seated under an elm tree, serenely engaged with pad and pencil in preparing his neutrality proclamation, which was soon to loose a fierce storm of opposition and ridicule upon him. He and I had often discussed the war and its effect upon our own country, and one day in August, 1914, just after the Great War had begun, he said to me: "We are going through deep waters in the days to come. The passions now lying dormant will soon be aroused and my motives and purposes at every turn will soon be challenged until there will be left but few friends to justify my course. It does not seem clear now, but as this war grows in intensity it will soon resolve itself into a war between autocracy and democracy. Various racial groups in America will seek to lead us now one way and then another. We must sit steady in the boat and bow our heads to meet the storm."
Bound as he was by the responsibilities of trusteeship to adhere to a policy of neutrality, personally he saw that the inevitable results would be only bitter disappointment. "We cannot remain isolated in this war," he said, "for soon the contagion of it will spread until it reaches our own shores. On the one side Mr. Bryan will censure the Administration for being too militaristic, and on the other we will find Mr. Roosevelt criticizing us because we are too pacifist in our tendencies."
Dr. William E. Dodd, in his book "Woodrow Wilson and His Work," has sensed the complicated situation in which the President found himself: "The British blockade, becoming more effective every day, barred the way of American goods to Germany and even neutral countries. Hoke Smith and a score of southern senators and representatives urged him to protest against the blockade. Representatives of the packers of Chicago and the farmers of the Northwest urged him to open the way to hungry markets for their goods. He made his fight during the autumn of 1914 and 1915 against all the more drastic phases of the British blockade, against British interference with our cargoes for neutral ports." Every artificial device for increasing our trade with neutral countries was suggested by those who sought his aid and counsel in the matter. Cotton of all the commodities was the hardest hit. When a friend from Georgia urged action by the President to help in the matter of cotton, the President tried to impress upon him that, with the World War in progress, the law of supply and demand was deeply affected and that the sales of cotton were necessarily restricted by reason of the closure of certain markets to our goods. This friend, in urging his views upon the President, said: "But you, Mr. President, can suspend the law of supply and demand." The President responded fey saying: "If I did, Judge, and you ran your head up against it, you might get hurt."
Every sympathizer with Germany pursued the President relentlessly with insistent demand that England should be brought to book for the unreasonable character of the blockade which she was carrying on against our commerce on the high seas. The President in every diplomatic way possible pressed America's claims against England, but these demands did not satisfy the German sympathizers throughout the country who covertly sought to bring about a real breach between the two countries. Even I felt that we should go further in our demands upon England than the President seemed willing to go.
The pressure upon us at the White House for satisfaction at the hands of England grew more intense with each day. I recall a conversation I had with the President shortly before the Congressional elections when the President's political enemies were decrying his kind treatment of England and excoriating him for the stern manner in which he was holding Germany to strict accountability for her actions. This conversation was held while we were on board the President's train on our way to the West. After dinner one evening I tactfully broached the subject of the British blockade and laid before the President the use our enemies were making of his patient action toward England. My frank criticism deeply aroused him. Replying to me he pitilessly attacked those who were criticizing him for "letting up on Great Britain." Looking across the table at me he said: "I am aware of the demands that are daily being made upon me by my friends for more vigorous action against England in the matter of the blockade; I am aware also of the sinister political purpose that lies back of many of these demands. Many senators and congressmen who urge radical action against England are thinking only of German votes in their districts and are not thinking of the world crisis that would inevitably occur should there be an actual breach at this time between England and America over the blockade." Then looking squarely at me, he said: "I have gone to the very limit in pressing our claims upon England and in urging the British Foreign Office to modify the blockade. Walter Page, our Ambassador to England, has placed every emphasis upon our insistence that something be done, and something will be done, but England, now in the throes of a great war crisis, must at least be given a chance to adjust these matters. Only a few days ago Mr. Page wrote me a most interesting letter, describing the details of a conference he had had with Sir Edward Grey, the British Foreign Secretary, to discuss our protests against the British blockade. Mr. Page described the room in which the conference was held, on the wall of which was hung as a memorial the fifteen-million-dollar check with which Great Britain paid theAlabamaclaims in the Civil War. Mr. Page pointed to thisAlabamacheck and said: 'If you don't stop these seizures, Sir Edward, some day you will have your entire room papered with things like that.' Sir Edward replied: 'That may be so, but we will pay every cent. Of course, many of the restrictions we have laid down and which seriously interfere with your trade are unreasonable. But America must remember that we are fighting her fight, as well as our own, to save the civilization of the world. You dare not press us too far!'" Turning to me, the President said: "He was right. England is fighting our fight and you may well understand that I shall not, in the present state of the world's affairs, place obstacles in her way. Many of our critics suggest war with England in order to force reparation in these matters. War with England would result in a German triumph. No matter what may happen to me personally in the next election, I will not take any action to embarrass England when she is fighting for her life and the life of the world. Let those who clamour for radical action against England understand this!"
While the critics of the President were busily engaged in embarrassing and "hazing" him at every point and insisting upon a "show-down" with Great Britain over the blockade, the world was startled on May 7, 1915, by the news of the sinking of theLusitania, off the coast of Ireland, resulting in the loss of many American lives. A few days later came the news that the German people were rejoicing at the fine stroke of the submarine commander in consummating this horrible tragedy.
The President's critics who, a few days before, were assailing him for his supposed surrender to England, were now demanding an immediate declaration of war against Germany, but not for a moment did the President waver before these clamorous demands. To such an extent did he carry this attitude of calmness and steadiness of purpose that on "the outside" the people felt that there was in him a heartlessness and an indifference to the deep tragedy of theLusitania. At my first meeting with him I tried to call to his attention many of the tragic details of the sinking of the great ship in an effort to force his hands, so to speak, but he quickly checked what appeared to be my youthful impetuosity and said: "Tumulty, it would be much wiser for us not to dwell too much upon these matters." When he uttered this admonition there was no suggestion of coldness about him. In fact, he seemed to be deeply moved as I adverted to some of the facts surrounding this regrettable and tragic affair. At times tears stood in his eyes, and turning to me he said: "If I pondered over those tragic items that daily appear in the newspapers about theLusitania, I should see red in everything, and I am afraid that when I am called upon to act with reference to this situation I could not be just to any one. I dare not act unjustly and cannot indulge my own passionate feelings."
Evidently he saw that his turning away from the topic in this apparently indifferent way did not sit well with me. Quickly he understood my dissatisfaction and said: "I suppose you think I am cold and indifferent and little less than human, but, my dear fellow, you are mistaken, for I have spent many sleepless hours thinking about this tragedy. It has hung over me like a terrible nightmare. In God's name, how could any nation calling itself civilized purpose so horrible a thing?"
At the time we were discussing this grave matter we were seated in the President's study in the White House. I had never seen him more serious or careworn. I was aware that he was suffering under the criticism that had been heaped upon him for his apparent inaction in the matter of theLusitania. Turning to me he said: "Let me try to make my attitude in this matter plain to you, so that you at least will try to understand what lies in my thoughts. I am bound to consider in the most careful and cautious way the first step I shall take, because once having taken it I cannot withdraw from it. I am bound to consider beforehand all the facts and circumstances surrounding the sinking of theLusitaniaand to calculate the effect upon the country of every incautious or unwise move. I am keenly aware that the feeling of the country is now at fever heat and that it is ready to move with me in any direction I shall suggest, but I am bound to weigh carefully the effect of radical action now based upon the present emotionalism of the people. I am not sure whether the present emotionalism of the country would last long enough to sustain any action I would suggest to Congress, and thus in case of failure we should be left without that fine backing and support so necessary to maintain a great cause. I could go to Congress to-morrow and advocate war with Germany and I feel certain that Congress would support me, but what would the country say when war was declared, and finally came, and we were witnessing all of its horrors and bloody aftermath. As the people pored over the casualty lists, would they not say: 'Why did Wilson move so fast in this matter? Why didn't he try peaceably to settle this question with Germany? Why could he not have waited a little longer? Why was he so anxious to go to war with Germany, yet at the same time why was he so tender of the feelings of Great Britain in the matter of the blockade?' Were I to advise radical action now, we should have nothing, I am afraid, but regrets and heartbreaks. The vastness of this country; its variegated elements; the conflicting cross-currents of national feelings bid us wait and withhold ourselves from hasty or precipitate action. When we move against Germany we must be certain that the whole country not only moves with us but is willing to go forward to the end with enthusiasm. I know that we shall be condemned for waiting, but in the last analysis I am the trustee of this nation, and the cost of it all must be considered in the reckoning before we go forward."
Then leaning closer to me, he said: "It will not do for me to act as if I had been hurried into precipitate action against Germany. I must answer for the consequences of my action. What is the picture that lies before me? All the great nations of Europe at war, engaged in a death grapple that may involve civilization. My earnest hope and fervent prayer has been that America could withhold herself and remain out of this terrible mess and steer clear of European embroilments, and at the right time offer herself as the only mediating influence to bring about peace. We are the only great nation now free to do this. If we should go in, then the whole civilized world will become involved. What a pretty mess it would be! America, the only nation disconnected from this thing and now she is surrendering the leadership she occupies and becomes involved as other nations have. Think of the tragedy! I am not afraid to go to war. No man fit to be President of this nation, knowing the way its people would respond to any demand that might be made upon them, need have fears or doubts as to what stand it would finally take. But what I fear more than anything else is the possibility of world bankruptcy that will inevitably follow our getting into this thing, Not only world chaos and bankruptcy, but all of the distempers, social, moral, and industrial, that will flow from this world cataclysm. No sane man, therefore, who knows the dangerous elements that are abroad in the world would, without feeling out every move, seek to lead his people without counting the cost and dispassionately deliberating upon every move."
In a speech delivered at Helena, Montana, he frankly spoke of the "break down" of neutrality in these words:
In the Providence of God, the leadership of this nation was intrusted to me during those early years of the war when we were not in it. I was aware through many subtle channels of the movements of opinion in this country, and I know that the thing that this country chiefly desired, the thing that you men out here in the West chiefly desired and the thing that of course every loving woman had at her heart, was that we should keep out of the war, and we tried to persuade ourselves that the European business was not our business. We tried to convince ourselves that no matter what happened on the other side of the sea, no obligation of duty rested upon us, and finally we found the currents of humanity too strong for us. We found that a great consciousness was welling up in us that this was not a local cause, that this was not a struggle which was to be confined to Europe, or confined to Asia, to which it had spread, but that it was something that involved the very fate of civilization; and there was one great nation in the world that could not afford to stay out of it. There are gentlemen opposing the ratification of this treaty who at that time taunted the Administration of the United States that it had lost touch with its international conscience. They were eager to go in, and now that they have got in, and are caught in the whole network of human conscience, they want to break out and stay out. We were caught in this thing by the action of a nation utterly unlike ourselves. What I mean to say is that the German nation, the German people, had no choice whatever as to whether it was to go into that war or not, did not know that it was going into it until its men were summoned to the colours. I remember, not once, but often, that while sitting at the Cabinet table in Washington I asked my colleagues what their impression was of the opinion of the country before we went into the war, and I remember one day one of my colleagues said to me: "Mr. President, I think the people of the country would take your advice and do what you suggested." "Why," I said, "that is not what I am waiting for; that is not enough. If they cannot go in with a whoop there is no use of their going in at all. I do not want them to wait on me. I am waiting on them. I want to know what the conscience of this country is speaking. I want to know what purpose is arising in the minds of the people of this country with regard to this world situation." When I thought I heard that voice, it was then that I proposed to the Congress of the United States that we should include ourselves in the challenge that Germany was giving to mankind.
On May 10, 1915, he made a speech in Philadelphia, which contained the regrettable and much-criticized phrase, "Too proud to fight." Unfortunately, the headlines of the papers carried only the phrase, "Too proud to fight," and little or no attention was paid to the context of the speech in which the phrase was lodged. As a matter of fact, there was nothing unusual about the character of this speech. The phrase, "Too proud to fight," was simply expressive of the President's policy since the outbreak of the war. It was not a new thought with him. Some weeks before he had said the same thing, only in different words, in a speech delivered at a banquet of the Associated Press in New York: "My interest in the neutrality of the United States is not a petty desire to keep out of trouble. I am interested in neutrality because there is something so much greater to do than fight. There is a distinction awaiting this nation that no nation has ever yet got. That is the distinction of absolute self- control and mastery." The phrase, "Too proud to fight," was simply expressive of the idea that was close to his heart: a reliance upon means of settling our difficulties with Germany other than a resort to war. On our way to Philadelphia on the day of the delivery of this speech I read a copy of it which the President handed to me, and when I ran across the phrase, "Too proud to fight," I scented the political danger in it and warned him, but he declined to be admonished because he was confident in the moral strength of his position, namely, that self-mastery is sometimes more heroic than fighting, or as the Bible states it, "He that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city," and trusted the people to understand his full meaning. The President himself was so above the petty tricks by which politicians wrest words from their context and force upon them unfavourable meaning that he sometimes incautiously played into the hands of this type of foe. Nor did he fully realize that his gift for making striking and quotable phrases added to the danger. It was an unfortunate phrase, "Too proud to fight," but none who thoughtfully read the context with unprejudiced mind could fail to see the moral grandeur of the President's position.
The feelings of the people throughout the country began to be aroused as they witnessed the outlawry of Germany in ruthlessly attacking and wantonly interfering with American commerce on the high seas. The agitation for preparedness to meet a critical world situation was on in full swing. Congress and the President were harassed by conflicting demands from every side immediately to "put our house in order" and to set America safely on the road to national preparedness. Theodore Roosevelt was clamorously demanding universal compulsory military service and was ably aided by General Wood and Admiral Peary, who urged the adoption of conscription. Secretary of War Garrison and Senator Chamberlain, of Oregon, were converted to this radical movement and unwittingly became part and parcel of the Roosevelt-Wood preparedness propaganda. These gentlemen could see only the direct route to the accomplishment of the purpose they had in mind and were alike unmindful of the difficulties and obstacles that lay in the President's path. To them it appeared that all it was necessary for the President to do was boldly to announce his programme of preparedness and serenely to await its approval at the hands of Congress. They were unmindful of the difficulties of the situation and of the consummate tact that Would be required on the part of the President to induce Congress to turn away from the old volunteer system and to put into effect at once a system that overnight would transform America into an armed camp. The President was bound to consider the stern actualities of the situation and to withhold himself as far as possible from a too vigorous insistence on any programme of preparedness that was not traditionally, fundamentally American. It was a case of honest men seeing the same thing in the same way but differing as to the practicable means of accomplishing it. The President early realized that the volunteer system was unsuited to our present needs and that it could not be quickly turned into an active force to answer emergencies, but he was certain, also, that the people of the country must be convinced of this before they would agree to cut themselves away from the volunteer system under which previous American wars had been fought to a successful conclusion. The President felt that the old volunteer system was antiquated and not to be considered, but the duty lay upon him to convince the leaders of the Senate and House and the people that this was a fact. This was no easy task to accomplish. Haste or impetuous action on his part in advocating conscription could only, in his opinion, delay matters and embarrass the very purpose that lay in his mind.
While Roosevelt and Garrison were criticizing Congressional inaction, the President's mind was "open and to let" on the question of what constituted the best means of putting America in a state of actual and aggressive preparedness. As President, he was bound to take cognizance of the deep- seated antagonism on the part of the American people to any system of military preparedness that had a compulsory feature as its basic element. It was the President's opinion that the people of a country so big and varied as America had to be convinced by alternative methods as to what, in the last analysis, was the best means of preparing the country against aggression.
While he was convinced that we had to be prepared and ready to meet any emergency, he was not to be rushed in the matter and was keeping his mind open to find the best and most practical method of accomplishing what he thought the average opinion of the country demanded in the way of preparedness.
I had often discussed the matter with the President and, watching the agitation for preparedness from the side-lines, had stated my views in letters reading in part as follows:
In my opinion, there is left to the Republican party but two available issues for the campaign of 1916,—the tariff and the question of national defense. How we are to meet the enemy on these questions is a subject which we ought thoroughly to consider and discuss in the coming months.
As to National Defense: In this matter we must have a sane, reasonable and workable programme. That programme must have in it, the ingredients that will call forth the hearty support of, first, the whole Cabinet (and particularly the Secretary of War); second, the leaders of the party in the Senate and House; third, the rank and file of Democrats in both Houses; fourth, the Army and the Navy; and last but not least, the great body of the American people.
Successfully to carry through this programme will tax your leadership in the party to the last degree. On the eve of the campaign of 1916, your attitude and accomplishment in this matter will be accepted by the country as the final test of your leadership and will be of incalculable psychological importance to the party; and, therefore, in the carrying out of this programme we cannot afford to hesitate or to blunder, because as election day approaches trivial mistakes will be magnified and exaggerated by the opposition, to the hurt and injury of our party and your prestige as leader.
THE PRESIDENT,Cornish, New Hampshire.
* * * * *
I cannot impress upon you too forcibly the importance of an appeal to the country at this time on the question of preparedness. No matter what the character of the information is that you are receiving, I have it from all sources that there is no enthusiasm on the "hill" for preparedness, and that the country itself is indifferent because of its apparent inability to grasp the importance and full significance of this question. This indifference arises out of two things: first, the attitude of the pacifists whose feelings have been nurtured by the preachings of Mr. Bryan; second, the attitude of those in the country who believe in preparedness and who are frightened because of the big talk of Roosevelt and others on their plan for military conscription.
There is no doubt how the body of the American people feel on this question of preparedness. You can, therefore, with much greater reason, address them on this question and with greater force and earnestness. I am afraid if you delay in this matter, it will be too late to act, because our enemies are already busy and active.
If some unfortunate thing should arise in international affairs or in Mexico within the next few weeks and announcement came then that you were to make an appeal to the country, it would appear as an anti- climax and an attempt upon your part to retrieve yourself. Now is the psychological moment to make your plea for national defense and incidentally to discuss Mexico and our foreign relations. In other words, you must ask the country to accept your leadership or the leadership of others who can't lead. Your voice is the only responsible voice in America that can speak with certainty, authority, and calmness as to the need for preparedness. There is no doubt of the will of a large majority of our people, but it lacks articulate expression. I am sure they will not fail to respond.
Upon conferring with the President in the matter of preparedness, I found that he had been slowly and patiently revolving the whole matter in his own mind and was then considering the advisability of taking a direct message to the people concerning the situation and was only awaiting the psychological moment to strike.
On January 27, 1916, the President commenced his tour of the North and Middle West, assuming the leadership of the movement for preparedness that had been started by his opponents, and called the attention of the country to the critical world situation and to the necessity that America "put her house in order." In St. Louis he declared that America must have comparably the greatest navy in the world. It was noticeable in his speeches that he never employed the term "universal military service" and that he was careful to explain that there was to be no militarism in the country.
When the President returned from his preparedness tour, he found himself at the centre of conflicting views as to method; on the one hand, Representative Hay of the Military Affairs Committee, advocated the use of the National Guard as the new army; on the other hand, Secretary Garrison advocated an increase of the Regular Army to 142,000 men and a new "continental army" of 400,000 men, with reserves of state militia. It was the recurrent conflict between the Army and Congress, between the military department's desire for a strong force and Congress' fear of "militarism." The Garrison plan met with decided opposition in the House, and upon the President's refusal to lend support to his Secretary of War in the programme he had outlined in his report of 1915, Mr. Garrison resigned. Immediately all the enemies of the President centred about the retiring Secretary and proclaimed him a very much abused official. The letter which the President addressed to Secretary Garrison is as follows:
January 17, 1916.
I am very much obliged to you for your letters of January twelfth and January fourteenth. They make your views with regard to adequate measures of preparation for national defence sharply clear. I am sure that I already understood just what your views were, but I am glad to have them restated in this succinct and striking way. You believe, as I do, that the chief thing necessary is, that we should have a trained citizen reserve and that the training, organization and control of that reserve should be under immediate federal direction.