But the execution of German military plans demanded that the allied shortage in munitions, upon which the Teutons counted for success in the spring campaigns, should not be replenished from American sources. Failing to budge Wilson on the proposal of an embargo, they launched themselves upon a more reckless course. On February 4, 1915, the German Admiralty issued a proclamation to the effect that after the 18th of February, German submarines would destroy every enemy merchant vessel found in the waters about the British Isles, which were declared a "war zone"; and that it might not be possible to provide for the safety of crew or passengers of destroyed vessels. Neutral ships were warned of the danger of destruction if they entered the zone. The excuse alleged for this decided departure from the custom of nations was the British blockade upon foodstuffs, which had been declared as a result of the control of food in Germany by the Government. Here was quite a different matter from British interference with American trade-rights; for if the German threat were carried into effect it signified not merely the destruction or loss of property, for which restitution might be made, but the possible drowning of American citizens, perhaps women and children, who would be entirely within their rights in traveling upon merchant vessels and to whom the Government owed protection.
Wilson's reply was prompt and definite. "If the commanders of German vessels of war should ... destroy on the high seas an American vessel or the lives of American citizens, it would be difficult for the Government of the United States to view the act in any other light than as an indefensible violation of neutral rights.... The Government of the United States would be constrained to hold the Imperial German Government to a strict accountability for such acts of their naval authorities and to take any steps it might be necessary to take to safeguard American lives and property and to secure to American citizens the full enjoyment of their acknowledged rights on the high seas." It was the clearest of warnings. Would Germany heed it? And if she did not, would Wilson surrender his pacific ideals and take the nation into war?
CHAPTER III
THE SUBMARINE
Early in the winter of 1914-1915 President Wilson apparently foresaw something of the complications likely to arise from the measures and counter-measures taken by the belligerents to secure control of overseas commerce, and sent his personal adviser, Colonel House, across the Atlantic to study the possibilities of reaching a modus vivendi. There was no man so well qualified for the mission. Edward Mandell House was a Texan by birth, but a cosmopolitan by nature. His hobby was practical politics; his avocation the study of history and government. His catholicity of taste is indicated by the nature of his library, which includes numerous volumes not merely on the social sciences but also on philosophy and poetry. His intellectual background was thus no less favorable than his political for the post which he assumed as Wilson's personal adviser. Disqualified by physical delicacy from entering the political arena himself and consistently refusing office, he had for years controlled the political stage in his own State; in 1912, exercising strong influence in the national party organization, he had done much to crystallize sentiment in favor of Wilson as presidential candidate. Slight in stature, quiet in manner and voice, disliking personal publicity, with an almost uncanny instinct for divining the motives that actuate men, he possessed that which Wilson lacked—the capacity to "mix," to meet his fellow mortals, no matter what their estate, on a common ground.
Courteous and engaging, Colonel House was an unexcelled negotiator: he had a genius for compromise, as perfect a control of his emotions as of his facial expression, and a pacific magnetism that soothed into reasonableness the most heated interlocutor. His range of acquaintance in the United States was unparalleled. Abroad, previous to the war, he had discussed international relations with the Kaiser and the chief statesmen of France and England. His experience of American politics and knowledge of foreign affairs, whether derived from men or from books, were matched by an almost unerring penetration in the analysis of a political situation, domestic or European. As a liberal idealist and pacifist, he saw eye to eye with Wilson; his sense of political actualities, however, was infinitely more keen.
But even the skill of Colonel House was not sufficient to induce Germany to hold her hand, and, as spring advanced, it became increasingly clear that she was resolved to carry her threats of unrestricted submarine warfare into effect. The quality of Wilson's pacifism was about to be put to the test. In March a British steamer, the Falaba, was sunk and an American citizen drowned; some weeks later an American boat, the Cushing, was attacked by a German airplane; and on the 1st of May, another American steamer, the Gulflight, was sunk by a submarine with the loss of two American lives. When was Wilson going to translate into action his summary warning of "strict accountability?" Even as the question was asked, we heard that the Germans had sunk the Lusitania. On the 7th of May, 1915, at two in the afternoon, the pride of the British merchant marine was struck by two torpedoes fired from a German submarine. She sank in half an hour. More than eleven hundred of her passengers and crew were drowned, among them one hundred and twenty-four Americans, men, women, and children.
The cry that went up from America was one of anguish, but still more one of rage. This attack upon non-combatant travelers, citizens of a neutral state, had been callously premeditated and ruthlessly executed in cold blood. The German Government had given frigid warning, in a newspaper advertisement, of its intention to affront the custom of nations and the laws of humanity. A wave of the bitterest anti-German feeling swept down the Atlantic coast and out to the Mississippi; for the first time there became apparent a definite trend of opinion demanding the entrance of the United States into the war on the side of the Entente. On that day Wilson might have won a declaration of war, so strong was popular sentiment; and despite the comparative indifference of the Missouri valley and the Far West, he might have aroused enthusiasm if not unity.
But a declaration of war then would, in all probability, have been a mistake. Entrance into the war at that time would have been based upon neither judgment nor ideals, but merely upon emotion. The American people were in no way prepared to bring material aid to the cause of justice, nor did the nation yet appreciate the moral issues involved. It would have been a war of revenge for American lives lost. The President was by temperament disinclined to listen to the passionate demands for intervention, and, as historian, he must have had in mind the error committed by McKinley when he permitted the declaration of war on Spain, after the sinking of the Maine in 1898. Sober afterthought has generally agreed that Wilson was right. But he was himself led into a serious error that produced consequences which were not soon to be dissipated. Speaking three days after the event, when the world looked to him to express the soul of America, and dealing with the spirit of Americanism, he permitted an unfortunate phrase to enter his address and to cloud his purpose. "There is such a thing," he said, "as a man being too proud to fight." The phrase was by no means essential to the main points of his address; it was preceded by one of greater importance, namely that "the example of America must be a special example ... of peace because peace is the healing and elevating influence of the world and strife is not." It was followed by another of equal importance, that a nation may be so much in the right "that it does not need to convince others by force that it is right." These two phrases expressed what was in the President's mind clearly and definitely: the United States was consecrated to ideals which could not be carried into effect through force, unless every other method dictated by supreme patience had failed. But the world did not notice them. All that it remembered was that the United States was "too proud to fight." What did this mean to the average man except that the country was afraid to fight? The peoples of the Entente powers were contemptuous; Germans were reassured; Americans were humiliated.