White House gossip

by Edna M. Colman

CHAPTER XVI

SECOND ADMINISTRATION OF
WOODROW WILSON

March 4, 1917, to March 4, 1921

ON SUNDAY, March 4th, Woodrow Wilson went to the Capitol, and in the President’s room, in the presence of a small group of officials, took again the oath of office, reconsecrating himself to its obligation. The Bible he used was the one on which he had been sworn in as Governor of New Jersey and as President of the United States at his first inauguration.

On Monday, the public ceremony occurred on the East Portico, as was customary, there being but little deviation from previous programmes. Mrs. Wilson established a precedent by riding to the Capitol with her husband, the first time this had ever been done. Mrs. Marshall followed her example.

The parade was remarkable for the many innovations that were introduced. The first radical departure from the beaten path was that regular army soldiers served as the presidential escort. By the expressed wish of President Wilson, Troops B, C, and D of the 2d Cavalry, stationed at Fort Myer, comprised his escort. This regiment had been closely identified with the growth and glory of our nation. Hitherto, militia from the states of the incoming Executive and his running mate had been given the honour.

Catching the spirit of the people as he went toward the Capitol, President Wilson decided to smash another precedent, and when it came time for him to give his address, he requested the withdrawal of the military immediately in front of the stand so that the public might occupy that space and hear his address. There were more than fifty thousand people massed on the plaza trying to catch his words.

The ride from the Capitol to the White House was made quickly, so that the family luncheon party should see the review. Special arrangements for comfort had been made, the stand having been enclosed in glass, carpeted with a Persian rug, and fitted with large easy chairs.

Just opposite, in the Court of Honour, seventy-five men dressed in uniforms of officers of the Continental Army were stationed as honour guard to the President.

Most significant and novel in the parade was the woman’s section, made up of several thousand women of all sects, beliefs, political persuasions, crafts, trades, and professions. For the first time, a woman had been permitted to serve on the Inaugural Committee, and it was the boast of Mrs. James H. Boggs, the chairman of this section, that all women were welcome, politics and partizanship being submerged in the patriotic efforts to demonstrate what women could do. Her escort, to correspond to that of Colonel R. N. Harper, inaugural chairman, was an equestrian squadron. It was made up of Virginia horsewomen, about three hundred of them, gay and festive in their brilliant red velvet riding jackets, black velvet skirts, and smart black silk beavers. Prominent, also, was the Pennsylvania Women’s Woodrow Wilson League, and the khaki-clad Girl Scouts, of whom there were several hundred. Their sturdy little colour bearers struggled valiantly with their banners against the stiff wind.

A large number of student organizations marched in the parade. With war crashing over Europe, and the United States facing participation, it seemed as though the committee made extra efforts to demonstrate to the assembled units the amount of man power this country was ready to put behind its President.

For the first time in the history of the country, a distinctive part was played in the inauguration by the government departments. By joint resolution of both Houses of Congress, the executive department and various branches of the government in Washington were authorized to give for two weeks an exhibit of their activities and methods of transacting business. The entire project was called “Uncle Sam at Work,” and was arranged and managed by the various chiefs of bureaus, assisted by the Federation of Citizen’s Associations of Washington.

President Wilson had asked his Cabinet to remain with him in the new term. The note to Germany, conflicting with Secretary Bryan’s pacifist views, brought his resignation as Secretary of State. The appointment of Robert Lansing to the post thus left vacant was universally satisfactory. Newton D. Baker succeeded Lindley M. Garrison in the difficult and vitally responsible position as Secretary of War.

In little more than a month after Wilson’s second term opened, all pretence of peace for the United States was thrown aside. The President, following the action of Congress, proclaimed war with Germany on April 7, 1917.

With this act, the Capital City’s aspect changed. Mrs. Wilson closed the White House to visitors and locked the gates to tourists and all except those with definite appointments. To save and produce, she borrowed a flock of twenty blooded sheep from Bel Air farm in Maryland and turned them loose upon the White House lawns to keep the grass in order, in place of a labourer, and, incidentally, to grow a profitable crop of wool. So well did these sheep follow the aim of their distinguished shepherdess that, when the first shearing time came, ninety pounds of wool were cut and two pounds sent to each state to be sold for Red Cross work. More than fifty-two thousand dollars was made. The bidding ran high in some places where there was keen desire to possess White House wool. The next shearing, which proved almost as profitable, was turned over to the Salvation Army for its fund raising.

Mrs. Wilson had no desire for publicity or for doing spectacular things either to promote the popularity of her husband or herself, but she used every personal effort to promote and inspire many of the different phases of war work that the participation of the United States demanded. Every woman of the Cabinet followed her lead.

Mrs. Marshall was a host in herself. The home life of the Marshalls had become traditional for the devotion between the genial, humorous Vice President and his wife. In all of the twenty-odd years of their married life, they had not allowed themselves to be separated overnight. Mrs. Marshall had always kept a bag packed ready to depart upon a moment’s notice for any trip the one-time Hoosier governor might elect to take. She campaigned with and for him, and her understanding and support aided him not only in his election, but also in his filling the very difficult rôle through eight years as understudy to President Wilson.

Mrs. Marshall infused a delightful spirit in the group of Senatorial wives over which she presided. Their weekly luncheons became informal clearing houses for all of their individual problems, and developed into an institution of force and achievement. Their work in volume and quality during the war was an example to the women of the land, when “Do your bit” had become a household slogan.

None of the ladies of the Cabinet gave more royally of her time and energies than Mrs. Robert Lansing, wife of the Secretary of State. She had been known, trusted, and loved since her girlhood in the Foster home when her father was a Cabinet Minister. Her chairmanship of a measure insured its success. She was head and shoulders in the Red Cross, the Y. W. C. A., and every other organized relief measure where her personal interest and backing might count. No snarl of red tape or personal friction in any of the great projects was too complicated for her diplomatic wisdom to adjust.

Mrs. Herbert Hoover gave her time and strength to one of the great weak spots—the care of the government workers—the planning for accommodations for housing and feeding in a city that tripled its population almost overnight without the facilities or the expert knowledge of expanding to meet the growing demand. From her experiences with her husband during the Boxer uprising, where he obtained his first fame as a food administrator, and during his work on the Belgian and other relief councils upon which she had served with him, Mrs. Hoover had learned skilfully to combat hardships imposed by war. With practical common sense she set to work to convert available empty houses, when such could be obtained, into dormitories with the simplest of necessities and a few of the comforts of home, for the thousands of young women who flocked to Washington to enlist in clerical service. As men were released for war service, women had to take their places. Mrs. Hoover began in her husband’s Food Conservation Bureau and gradually found herself in demand for a problem of army proportions.

Mrs. Josephus Daniels, wife of the Secretary of the Navy, sister of Worth Bagley, of Spanish War fame, was the good angel for the men of the navy, while Mrs. Newton D. Baker, wife of the Secretary of War, was tireless in her promotion of the welfare and comfort of the soldiers. Recreation seemed to be the big necessity. Mrs. Baker sang as often as her strength would allow, and gave her executive powers to promoting the organization of community service.

Mrs. William Gibbs McAdoo worked in the interest of Liberty Loans. She and Mrs. Longworth were conspicuous in this type of activity. Later, when the terrible scourge of influenza hit the Capital and war workers died like flies, Mrs. McAdoo, wife of the Secretary of the Treasury, came to the rescue with a diet kitchen to supply all of the invalids connected with the Treasury Department with broth and nourishment. This work was enlarged and continued through the utilization of trained Girl Scouts until the last of the dependent convalescents no longer needed it.

Mrs. Albert Sidney Burleson found a stupendous task in looking after the many employees of the Postmaster General’s department, and the same was true of the wife of Attorney General Gregory.

This record does not begin to sum up the contribution these women and all other women workers made to the war cause, but is given as an illustration of the serious attitude toward the war taken by the First Lady of the Land and her official family.

Mrs. Wilson, from the day of her marriage, submerged her life in that of her husband and spent herself upon her end of the presidential job. In the first days of their life together, they were given to horseback riding. Democrat and Murat carried them through the highways and byways of the District. As the weight of war bore down upon the President with its crushing cruelty, however, the task of keeping him physically and mentally fit required all her energies.

She it was who had to buoy him up, infuse the brightening bit of humour, and shore up with her courage a frame all unconsciously beginning to sag. No longer was the mercurial temperament of college-professor days able to rebound at the whip lash of his Irish wit. The elasticity of the mental processes of the Governor of New Jersey, which had fitted a limerick-making contest with his daughters in between matters of state and political campaigning, still manifested its amazing control in his methodical grasp of public matters, but the capacity to shut the doors of his mind on grave problems and turn instantly to humorous relaxation was gone. President Wilson’s power of concentration which enabled him to dispose of question after question with such amazing celerity was the wonder of his Cabinet. Accuracy and precision of method he required of those about him. His own mind grasped the essentials and presented conclusions with a rapidity that amounted to genius, enabling him to observe the schedules he set for his official appointments in the forenoons. Delegations and commissions from abroad seeking financial help all had to be received and entertained. France, England, Italy, Russia, Belgium, Japan, and Serbia sent over their premiers and great statesmen. The White House extended its welcome to Mr. Balfour, Marshal Joffre, M. Viviani, Prince Udine, Signor Guglielmo Marconi, Viscount Ishii of Japan, and M. Vesnitch of Serbia, during the period between late May of 1917 and January of 1918.

Mrs. Wilson was importuned to join all of the war projects. She always held her interest and membership on the board of a local hospital, and never let her interest in church work lapse. But she had her war mission cut out for her and let nothing infringe upon it. She worked with her hands, knitting, sewing, and writing personal letters to the mothers of soldiers who wrote to her. But first, last, and always, her main job was a watchful care of the President, who was being ground to bits on the wheel of public criticism and opposition and the feeling of his own responsibility to his government.

Chiefly a “home body” in the old-fashioned sense, Mrs. Wilson had never visited the White House during her long residence in Washington until she one time accepted an invitation to tea from Miss Helen W. Bones, the President’s cousin. But when the mansion became her home, she took the most abiding interest in its care. Her taste was everywhere in evidence. But not an unnecessary dollar was allowed to be spent for it after war was declared. The wall coverings became discoloured before the President would consent to new ones, and then the former design was duplicated. The rugs, shabby and worn, were made to answer. Because of expense, only state apartments received any refurbishing.

Although Mrs. Wilson eliminated the regular social activities of normal times, she received daily the distinguished people war brought to Washington. Usually, she merely served tea, charmingly and informally. Often-times, however, as in the case of the visit of Prince Axel of Denmark, a more formal entertainment was required.

In between her war work and golf for the President’s benefit, she turned to selecting and fitting up a billiard room at one end of the ground-floor corridor. Here she beguiled her husband into many hours of relaxation. A large fireplace and some of the President’s favourite possessions made it an attractive spot. She also set aside and fitted a room to hold the historic White House china, which Mrs. Roosevelt had started collecting. Little cabinets were built in the walls in keeping with the architecture of the house. As new china was needed for use in the White House, Mrs. Wilson inveigled the President into helping her plan the new service of 1,700 pieces to be ordered. His suggestion that the seal of the President be embodied in the design instead of the coat of arms of the United States was the basis of the decoration of the ivory and white service known as the Woodrow Wilson design.

The volcano of war was shaking the entire world. America was pouring her measure of manhood and money into the great chasm abroad. The proclamation of war with Austria was followed by conflicts such as the world had never before visioned. Then the armistice was signed. Joy beyond description broke forth over the whole United States.

The President felt he must go to Paris. He had his plan for peace and resolved that he and he alone must win its acceptance in Europe. Despite the uproar of protest, despite every argument and appeal of Congress and his Cabinet, he dashed another time-honoured precedent into smithereens, and left the United States in December, 1918, arriving in Paris December 15th. He remained away two months.

Mrs. Wilson’s memories must be as rich and colourful as the lovely wine-tinted velvets and the purple-shaded brocades and crêpes that she wore on her trips with her husband while he addressed statesmen and received the loud acclaim of the masses. The King and Queen of Belgium paid them every honour, as did all of the other crowned heads, princes, and presidents wherever their journeys took them in their tour of the war-devastated nations. Showers of violets were tossed into their carriage, and every demonstration made to express the unparalleled love and esteem in which the President of the United States was held.

Then he settled himself at the conference table to expound the philosophy and reason in his plan with its fourteen points. While he was honoured by the rulers of Europe, admired for his knowledge, and enjoyed for his wit, his training as an American scholar could not encompass the sophistry and diplomacy of the veteran officials of Europe. Schooled in the wiles of intrigue, with its admissions and evasions, they kept their ears to the ground for the murmur of the American public and fixed a weather eye upon the American Congress at Washington.

In February, the President and Mrs. Wilson, laden with rare and costly gifts and tributes of all descriptions, turned their faces homeward. They were given a tremendous reception in Boston. After taking up the threads of his work at home for a few weeks, the President became convinced that he must return to Europe. Leaving again in March, he gave his whole mind and body to getting the Allied Peace Treaty signed, which was done June 28, 1919. Then he turned to face his most difficult task—to have the Treaty ratified at home with the League of Nations covenant incorporated.

He returned to Washington in July, to be confronted by a bitter struggle with Congress. Determined to win the states by convincing the people at large, he started on his tour of the country on September 3d. Those who travelled with him recall his thoughtfulness of his party and the solace and pleasure he derived from his wife’s presence and her watchful charge of him. She could always coax a smile, and though he was weighted with cares and anxieties, his inherent wit and humour would respond to her effort to amuse him.

She lived in a dread that she had to keep concealed. She knew he was breaking, and when at Wichita the collapse came that cancelled the trip and removed him from the active political stage, it was no more than the culmination of the fear that had haunted her for months.

Throughout the President’s long illness and up to the moment when Warren G. Harding took office, Mrs. Wilson’s life at the White House was full. She was called upon to perform many services for her country far beyond the mere wifely duties of caring for a loved sick one. The iron of criticism burned into her soul when his helplessness, incurred in the line of duty as surely as the wound of any soldier on the field, was turned against him. With an outward stoicism, she busied herself with the job of keeping her husband alive and of getting him well enough to handle the reins of the government himself, before they were tugged out of his limp hand by governmental action.

Vice President Marshall was approached by men of both parties and pressed to assume the executive duties when it became known in a limited circle that the President had suffered two cerebral strokes and that his death was considered imminent. The Vice President steadily refused to act other than as a substitute in such formal matters as the reception and entertainment of distinguished visitors as in the case of the King and Queen of Belgium. Until the President resigned or some properly constituted tribunal declared the government without a head, he would not assent to any such plan.

Mrs. Wilson adapted herself to her husband’s moods. With the instinct of a loving woman she knew the struggle of this man, dominant, autocratic, and self-sufficient, baffled in his efforts to put his policies into execution. She staged every diversion that would tend toward relaxation.

When the trembling, scraggly signature to the state documents brought forth a fresh attack of criticism and a more determined effort to bring about the transfer of authority which Mrs. Wilson felt would be contrary to her husband’s wishes and the best interests of his following, she managed to secure a type of writing board which supported the weak hand in its work of inscribing the necessary “Woodrow Wilson” in the proper place.

The President’s pleasure in motion pictures resulted in Mrs. Wilson’s having a regular daily show for his benefit in the East Room during 1920 and 1921, until the morning of the 3d of March. Producers everywhere sent films. In all, more than 400 pictures were shown, many of them first productions. When he was able to go about in his wheeled chair, he liked to be taken over the house. The daily trip diverted him. On pleasant days he visited the sun parlour on the roof.

Following his collapse, for five months he lay a shattered wreck, and it was February, 1920, before he was able to make his first motor trip.

President Wilson decided to make his permanent home in Washington, and purchased a commodious dwelling on S Street, where he had as neighbours the family of Herbert Hoover.

As the term drew to a close, Mrs. Wilson personally supervised the moving of their belongings—those from her own house in which she was married, and the new things purchased—so that the President might find his home all settled when he was taken to it from the Capitol after Mr. Harding’s installation. Feeble, worn, white, and thin, his helpless hands and wavering feet were placed for him when he took his seat beside Warren Harding for the ride to the Capitol on March 4th. His appearance brought an ovation, and Mr. Harding’s care of him was a matter of wide comment. Ex-President Wilson did not remain for all of the ceremony, but returned to his home, which became a mecca for pilgrimages of his followers until his death.

Few of our Presidents have dipped more deeply into the well of experience in the short period of eight years than did Woodrow Wilson. His mental processes embraced every variety of emotion in the human category. Circumstance and ambition led a tortuous path through victory, defeat, sorrow, love, courtship, marriage, responsibility for plunging his nation into war, and an even greater one of pulling it out again and establishing it in the ways of peace and order. He knew the alternating triumph of being hailed the saviour of Europe and the god of peace, and of being hissed from people’s esteem; of being applauded as a prophet of a new order and denounced as an autocrat both in his own land and abroad. Hated and loved like Lincoln, he pursued the course he had mapped out, believing he had found the solution for lasting peace. Europe accepted his solution, but his own countrymen refused it.

One of the great war Presidents of our land, he made a place in history a rightful judgment of which is beyond the powers of his contemporaries. It must be left to future generations. But with whatever historians accredit him of honour or censure, they must record his courage and independence in setting aside precedents that hampered his way. When, as President, he left the country, contrary to all established precedent, he was regarded as the saviour of Europe; he wielded power and dictated terms beyond the scope of kings. Under his leadership, the United States abandoned its tradition of isolation and entered the vast mêlée with five million of her men and many billions of her money, and placed an army on a battleline across three thousand miles of sea.

DEMOCRACY AND ROYALTY

Left to right: Queen Elizabeth of Belgium, President Woodrow Wilson,
Mrs. Woodrow Wilson, and King Albert of Belgium

(click image to enlarge)

In the light of his struggle and the opposition that attended it, his last public utterance is of deep interest. He spoke from the porch of his S Street home on Armistice Day of 1923. It was estimated that nearly ten thousand people had assembled in the street to do him honour. He paid tribute to the men who had fought, expressed his pride and pleasure at having been the commander-in-chief at that time, and concluded with the following words, which were spoken after he had turned to reënter his door:

“There is one thing—one—I cannot refrain from saying it. I am not one of those that have the least anxiety about the triumph of the principles I have stood for.

“I have seen fools resist Providence before, and I have seen their destruction, as will come upon these again—utter destruction and contempt. That we shall prevail is as sure as that God reigns.”

The ratification of the Eighteenth and Nineteenth amendments, the Suffrage and Prohibition measures, and the Federal Child Labor Law, important measures long pending, were enacted in this administration.

He died on February 3, 1924, and his tomb in the crypt of the great cathedral at St. Albans draws daily pilgrims.