During January and February, 1916, President Wilson delivered a succession of speeches in Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Chicago, Milwaukee, St. Louis, and other places in the upper Mississippi Valley, emphasizing his conversion to preparedness. Aware that his transformation would be regarded as anti-German and tending to draw the United States into the conflict, he apparently sought out pro-German and pacifist centers, and for the first time utilized something of the traditional "patriotic" style to rouse those citizens who, as yet, failed to appreciate the significance of the international situation. "I know that you are depending upon me to keep the nation out of war. So far I have done so, and I pledge you my word that, God helping me, I will—if it is possible. You have laid another duty upon me. You have bidden me see that nothing stains or impairs the honor of the United States. And that is a matter not within my control. That depends upon what others do, not upon what the Government of the United States does, and therefore there may be at any moment a time when I cannot both preserve the honor and the peace of the United States. Do not exact of me an impossible and contradictory thing, but stand ready and insist that everybody that represents you should stand ready to provide the means for maintaining the honor of the United States." And later: "America cannot be an ostrich with its head in the sand. America cannot shut itself out from the rest of the world.... Do you want the situation to be such that all the President can do is to write messages, to utter words of protest? If these breaches of international law which are in daily danger of occurring should touch the very vital interests and honor of the United States, do you wish to do nothing about it? Do you wish to have all the world say that the flag of the United States, which we all love, can be stained with impunity?" What a transformation from those days of December, 1914, when he believed that military preparation would prove that the American people had been thrown off their balance by a war with which they had nothing to do! And what a revelation of the wounds inflicted by the barbed taunts cast against the President for his patience in the writing of diplomatic notes!
Had the President carried his enthusiasm into actual accomplishment and provided for effective military and naval preparation, his claim to the title of great statesman would be more clear. Unfortunately when it came to forcing Congress to take the necessary steps, he failed. The inertia and reluctance of pacifist or partisan representatives would have been broken by Roosevelt. But Wilson did mere lip-service to the principle of military efficiency. The bills introduced in Congress were denounced by military experts as half-measures likely to produce no efficient result, and the President, who in most matters was determined to dominate, in this permitted congressional committees to have their way. The protests of the Secretary of War, Lindley M. Garrison, led to his resignation; and (most curious development) the President replaced him by a man, Newton D. Baker, who, whatever his capacity, was generally known as a pacifist. Wilson's intelligence told him that military preparation was necessary, if his policy of international service was to be anything more than academic; but his pacific instincts prevented him from securing real military efficiency.
An example of the unreadiness of the United States was furnished in the late spring and summer of 1916, when relations with Mexico became strained almost to the breaking point. President Wilson's handling of the knotty Mexican problem had been characteristic. He had temporized in the hope that anything like a break might be avoided and was resolutely opposed to formal armed intervention. But after refusing to recognize Huerta, who had gained his position of provisional president of Mexico through the murder of Madero, in which he was evidently implicated, the President had ordered the occupation of Vera Cruz by United States troops in retaliation for the arrest of an American landing party and Huerta's refusal to fire an apologetic salute. Huerta was forced to give up his position and fled, but the crisis continued and American-Mexican relations were not improved. The country was left in the hands of three rival presidents, of whom Carranza proved the strongest, and, after an attempt at mediation in which the three chief South American powers participated, President Wilson decided to recognize him. But Mexican conditions remained chaotic and American interests in Mexico were either threatened or destroyed. In the spring of 1916 an attack on American territory led by a bandit, Francisco Villa, again roused Wilson to action. He dispatched General John J. Pershing across the border to pursue and catch Villa. The expedition was difficult, but well-conducted; it extended far south of the frontier and provoked the protests of Carranza. At the moment when Pershing's advance guard seemed to have its hands on the bandit, orders were given to cease the pursuit.
The opponents of the Administration had some excuse for laughing at the "inglorious and ineffectual war" thus waged. It had failed to result in the capture of Villa and it gave rise to serious danger of an open break with Mexico. On the 21st of June an attack at Carrizal by Carranza's troops resulted in the capture of some United States cavalrymen and the mobilization of the national guard troops for the protection of the border. But President Wilson was not to be drawn into intervention. He might be compelled to exercise force in carrying out his ideals of international service against an international criminal like Germany; he would not use it against a weaker neighbor and particularly at the moment when the United States must be free to face European complications. But the Mexican crisis proved definitely the weakness of the military system. Though the regulars who accompanied Pershing proved their worth, the clumsy inefficient mobilization of the National Guard, on the other hand, indicated as plainly as possible the lack of trained troops and officers.
The President's determination not to intervene in Mexico probably assured him many votes in the pacifist regions of the Middle West in the presidential election of 1916. That he would be renominated by the Democrats was a foregone conclusion. He had alienated the machine leaders by his strict domination of Congress and the party; if he had permitted certain political leaders to distribute offices for necessary organization interests, he had seen to it, none the less, that the Democratic bosses had no share in the determination of policies. Still they could not hope to prevent his nomination. Whatever chance the party might have in the coming election lay in the personal strength of Wilson with the masses. In the South and the districts west of the Mississippi he was regarded as the greatest Democrat since Jackson. His patience in dealing with Germany, as with Carranza, convinced them of his desire for peace; the slogan, "He has kept us out of war," was a powerful argument in those regions. His attitude towards labor had been friendly, so that the support of the unions in the large industrial centers might be expected. Placards were posted showing a poor man's family with the caption, "He has protected me and mine," in answer to the Republican posters which showed a widow and orphans (presumably of a drowned American citizen) and the caption, "He has neglected me and mine." The remnants of the Progressives, who were not purely Roosevelt supporters, were attracted by Wilson's legislative programme and record of accomplishment. He could look to an independent vote such as no other Democrat could hope for.
Despite this strength, the Republican leaders, if they could succeed in effecting a reunion of their party, awaited the results of the election with confidence. They counted chiefly upon the personal unpopularity of Wilson on the Atlantic seaboard and the normal Republican vote in the industrial centers of the Middle West. His foreign policy, east of the Mississippi, was generally looked upon as anæmic and nebulous. He had permitted, so the Republicans contended, the honor of the country to be stained and Americans to be destroyed, without effective action. His early opposition to preparedness and the half-hearted measures of army reform had proved his weakness, at least to the satisfaction of Republican stump orators. He had won the hearty dislike of the bankers, the manufacturers, and the merchants by his attacks on capitalist interests and by his support of labor unions. The Clayton Act, which exempted strikes from Federal injunctions, and the Adamson Act, which granted, under threat, the immediate demands of the striking railroad employees, were cited as clear proof of his demagogic character. Furthermore, while he alienated the pro-Entente elements in New England and the Eastern States, he had drawn upon himself the hatred of the German-Americans by his attacks upon hyphenates and his refusal to accept an embargo on American munitions.
Had the Republicans been willing to accept Theodore Roosevelt, victory would probably have come to them. He alone could have gathered in the Progressive and independent vote, and that of the Pacific coast, which ultimately went to Wilson. But the Old Guard of the Republicans refused to consider Roosevelt; they could not take a man who had broken party lines four years before; above all they wanted a "safe and sane" President, who would play the political game according to rule—the rule of the bosses—and they knew that were Roosevelt elected they could not hope to share in the spoils. The Republican convention ultimately settled upon Charles E. Hughes, who certainly was not beloved by the bosses, but who was regarded as "steadier" than Roosevelt. The latter, in order to defeat Wilson, refused the offer of the Progressives, practically disbanded the party he had created, and called upon his friends to return with him to their first allegiance.
Hughes did not prove a strong candidate. Whereas Wilson had stated his position on the German-American problem plainly, "I neither seek the favor nor fear the displeasure of that small alien element among us which puts loyalty to any foreign power before loyalty to the United States," Hughes was ordered by his party managers not to offend foreign-born voters, and in his attempt to steer a middle course, gave a clear impression of vacillation. Many of those who had been most thoroughly disgusted with Wilson turned back to him again, as the weeks passed and Hughes more and more sought refuge in vague generalizations. In a campaign in which the issues were largely personal the Republican candidate's failure to evolve a constructive policy greatly weakened him, especially as Wilson had the advantage of the maxim that it is best not to change horses in the middle of the stream. Finally, Hughes did not prove adept in reconciling the Progressives. Indeed it was said to be a political gaucherie on his part, or that of his advisers, which alienated the friends of Governor Hiram Johnson of California and threw the electoral vote of that State to Wilson.
California turned the scale. When on the evening of the 7th of November the first returns came in and it was seen that Wilson had lost New York and Illinois, the election of Hughes was generally conceded. Even the New York Times and the World admitted Wilson's defeat. But the next morning, news from the west indicated that the President still had a chance. Later in the day the chance grew larger; he had won Ohio; Minnesota and California were doubtful. In both States voting was close; if Wilson won either the election would be his. It was not until the 11th of November that the returns from California definitely showed a small Wilson plurality, and only on the 21st that the Republicans finally abandoned hope. Wilson had secured 277 electoral votes to 254 for Hughes. He had been saved by the pacifist Middle and Far West, in combination with the South. But the victory meant something far different from peace at any price.