Woodrow Wilson as I Know Him

by Joseph P. Tumulty

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 the Alabama claims in the Civil War. Mr. Page pointed to this Alabama check 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 the Lusitania, 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 the Lusitania. 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 the Lusitania, 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 the Lusitania. 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 the Lusitania and 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."