Mr. Wilson's War

  BOOKS BY JOHN DOS PASSOS

  Historical Narratives

  THE GROUND WE STAND ON

  THE HEAD AND HEART OF THOMAS JEFFERSON

  THE MEN WHO MADE THE NATION

  MR. WILSON’S WAR

  Contemporary Chronicles

  CHOSEN COUNTRY

  THREE SOLDIERS

  MANHATTAN TRANSFER

  THE 42ND PARALLEL

  NINETEEN NINETEEN

  THE BIG MONEY

  THE MOST LIKELY TO SUCCEED

  ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG MAN

  NUMBER ONE

  THE GRAND DESIGN

  THE GREAT DAYS

  MIDCENTURY

  Mainstream of America Series

  EDITED BY LEWIS GANNETT

  MR. WILSON’S WAR

  Wide World Photos: 1, 16, 26, 37, 47A, 47B, 47C, 47D, 47E

  Culver pictures: 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 24, 25, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31. 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 61

  The Bettman Archives: 2, 21, 60

  Mr. Wilson’s War by John Dos Passos

  Acknowledgement is made to the following copyright holders:

  The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., for excerpts from My Memoir by Edith Boling Wilson. Copyright 1939 by Edith Boling Wilson. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  Dodd, Mead & Company, for excerpts from Leaves from a War Diary by James G. Harbord. Copyright 1925 by Dodd, Mead & Company, Inc. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., for excerpts from Peacemaking, 1919, by Harold Nicolson. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  Ives Hendrick, for excerpts from Life and Letters of Walter Hines Page by Burton J. Hendrick.

  Hillman Press, Inc., for excerpts from The Second Division: American Expeditionary Force in France, 1917–19. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  Houghton Mifflin Company, for excerpts from Journal of the Great War by Charles G. Dawes. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company. Letters and Friendships of Sir Cecil Spring Rice by Stephen Gwynn. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company and Constable and Company, Limited.

  J. B. Lippincott Company, for excerpts from My Experiences in the World War by J. J. Pershing. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  The Macmillan Company, for excerpts from Charles Evans Hughes by Merlo J. Pusey. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.

  Rachel Baker Napier, for excerpts from Life and Letters of Woodrow Wilson by Ray Stannard Baker.

  Mr. Archibald Roosevelt, Mrs. Alice Roosevelt Longworth and Mrs. Richard Derby, for excerpt from Library of Congress collection of the Theodore Roosevelt papers.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-81368-8

  Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 61–12612

  Copyright © 1962 by John Dos Passos

  All Rights Reserved.

  v3.1

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Part One THE SEARCH FOR PEACE 1. T.R. and the Youth of the Century

  2. The Schoolmaster in Politics

  3. The Silent Partner

  4. The New Freedom

  5. The Red Man

  Part Two TRYING TO BE NEUTRAL 6. The Freedom of the Seas

  7. Neutrality in Thought and Deed

  8. The Lonely Man in the White House

  9. Intermediary to the President

  Photo Insert I

  10. He Kept Us Out of War

  Part Three THE BIRTH OF LEVIATHAN 11. The End of Mediation

  12. Organizing to the Utmost

  13. The Turning Point

  14. Innocents Abroad

  15. The Line of Communication

  Part Four FORCE WITHOUT STINT 16. To Mobilize the Mind

  17. The First Blood

  18. The Kaiser’s Last Victory

  19. Ludendorff’s Black Day

  Photo Insert II

  20. To Save the Russians From Themselves

  21. Tout Le Monde A La Bataille

  Part Five MR. WILSON’S PEACE 22. The President’s Pledge

  23. The Peace Table

  24. The Supremest Tragedy

  Notes on Sources

  PART ONE

  The Search for Peace

  Behold a republic, increasing in population, in wealth, in strength, and in influence, solving the problems of civilization and hastening the coming of a universal brotherhood—a republic which makes thrones and dissolves aristocracies by its silent example and gives light to those who sit in darkness. Behold a republic gradually but surely becoming the supreme moral factor in disputes.

  —William Jennings Bryan

  at Canton, Ohio, October 16, 1900

  Chapter 1

  T.R. AND THE YOUTH OF THE CENTURY

  ONE hot dusty afternoon in the first week of September 1901 President William McKinley, accompanied by Mrs. McKinley and his two nieces, arrived for his official visit to the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo. Amid the screeching of whistles and the jangling of chimes and the booming of a twentyone gun salute, the President and Mrs. McKinley were driven slowly around the grounds in a carriage drawn by four well-matched bays.

  The next day had been designated President’s Day. Mr. McKinley delivered an address from a platform decorated with the massed flags of all the American republics to a crowd which the newspapers described as “packed to suffocation” on the esplanade.

  Mr. McKinley was a fine figure of a man, with a high broad brow and a roman nose flanked by searching gray eyes. Under the black neckcloth an ample piqué vest gleamed white between the folds of the long Prince Albert coat. As he stood looking down into the enthusiastic faces, with the cheers and handclapping resounding in his ears, he couldn’t help a feeling of confidence in his country’s destiny and his own which amounted perhaps to complacency.

  With the help of his friend Mark Hanna and “the full dinner pail” he had won re-election over William Jennings Bryan, nominee of Populists and Free Silver Democrats, by a plurality of over a million votes.

  A new century was opening. The Spanish-American War was won. Expanding westward to include Hawaii and the Philippines, and southward to dominate Cuba and Puerto Rico, the United States had taken her place among the great powers in the world. After four years and a half of his administration, the nation rejoiced in unexampled prosperity.

  “… This portion of the earth” said Mr. McKinley, and struck a responsive chord in the listening crowd, “has no cause for humiliation for the part it has played in the march of civilization. It has not accomplished everything, far from it. It has simply done its best, and without vanity or boastfulness, and recognizing the valid achievements of others, it invites the friendly rivalry of all the powers in the peaceful pursuits of trade and commerce and will co-operate with all in advancing the highest and best interests of humanity …”

  He spoke of the effect of railroads and swift steamships and of the Atlantic cables in knitting the world together: “Isolation is no longer possible or desirable. The same important news is read, though in different languages, in all Christendom.”

  He called for an increase in the merchant marine to spread the fruits of American prosperity—which he found so great as to be “almost appalling”—to less favored lands, and for increased intercourse with the Latin-American peoples to whom this exposition was dedicated. He demanded the immediate construction of an isthmian canal to join the Atlantic and Pacific oceans and the laying of a cable out into the far Pacific. He spoke with enthusiasm of the development of arbitration treaties between nation and nation which hopeful men were looking for to
eliminate forever the causes of war: “God and man have linked the nations together. No nation can longer be indifferent to any other. And as we are brought more and more in touch with each other, the less occasion there is for misunderstandings, and the stronger the disposition, when we have differences, to adjust them in the court of arbitration, which is the noblest forum for international disputes.”

  After the speech the cheering crowd broke through the ropes and mobbed the stand. Smiling and dignified Mr. McKinley stepped forward and shook more than a hundred hands.

  McKinley was a popular President. His enthusiastic reception wherever he met plain Americans man to man gave the lie to Bryan’s oratorical denunciations of the Republican Party as the party of the trusts and of the oppressors of the working man and the farmer; and to the Labor Day rabblerousers who had been reviving the issues of the campaign.

  Labor Day parades, animated perhaps by the news of the strike in Pittsburgh of seventy thousand steel workers who didn’t seem to appreciate the fullness of their dinner pails, had drawn recordbreaking crowds.

  In Kansas City, preaching to the text: “Muzzle not the ox that treadeth out the corn” William Jennings Bryan had castigated the interests that “would crucify mankind on a cross of gold” and deny a living wage to the working man.

  McKinley’s own Vice President, young Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, speaking at the opening of the Minnesota State Fair, with the glamor of his citations for bravery on San Juan Hill still about him, had, amid the whoops and yelps of his Rough Riders, called for “supervision and control” of the great corporations in the public interest.

  Friday, September 6 was the last day of the President’s visit. In the morning Mr. McKinley, accompanied by the ambassadors of the friendly nations south of the Rio Grande, journeyed to Niagara Falls in a private car. Everyone was captivated by the view of the falls from the International Bridge. After an excellent lunch the party returned to the exposition grounds for a presidential reception, in the old tradition of handshaking democracy, scheduled for four in the afternoon in the Temple of Music.

  Still wearing his long Prince Albert coat, with what the reporters described as “a smile of dignity and benevolence” on his face, Mr. McKinley stood under a bower of greenery and palms at the end of a corridor hung with purple bunting so arranged as to reduce the incoming throng to a single file. Detectives, secretservice men, reporters and members of the diplomatic corps stood in a group behind him. The President was seen to rub his hands in pleased anticipation. Instead of an ordeal it was a pleasure for him to meet the common man.

  When the doors were opened and the people poured in, the enormous organ installed in the building was still blaring forth a Bach sonata which was part of the afternoon concert.

  The secretservice agents carefully scrutinized the men who filed in with outstretched hands. The reporter for the Baltimore Sun thought that one foreignlooking man whom he described as having a bushy black mustache, bloodless lips and a glassy eye, attracted their suspicion. They were so busy watching him that they hardly noticed a tall, boyishlooking smoothfaced fellow who wore his arm in a sling. The organ music had reached a crescendo when Czolgosz, offering his left hand to the President, shoved a pistol at him out of the bandage that swathed his right and shot him in the belly.

  Mr. McKinley was assisted to a bench behind the purple bunting. The guards threw themselves on Czolgosz, who was with difficulty saved from lynching. He was quoted as saying that he was an anarchist and had done his duty. He came of a poor but respectable Polish family in Detroit. His head was said to have been turned by the theories of a young Russian Jewess named Emma Goldman who was inciting working people in Chicago to bring about the triumph of right and justice through anarchy.

  The President was taken to a hospital and then to the home of friends where he was reported to be resting easily.

  The Chicago police arrested Emma Goldman but the judge turned her loose for lack of evidence. Editorials demanded the deportation of foreign anarchists.

  Senator Mark Hanna, who had first heard the news with stunned unbelief at the Union Club in Cleveland, hurried to the President’s bedside, as did members of the Cabinet and Vice President Roosevelt. The early bulletins of the medical men were so reassuring that Colonel Roosevelt decided to take a few days off with his wife and children in the Adirondacks before returning to politics and to Oyster Bay.

  He joined Mrs. Roosevelt and the children at the Tahawus Club up above Keene Valley in the headwaters of the Ausable River. When a messenger arrived announcing that President McKinley’s condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse the Vice President was climbing in the mountains. A guide, set off in search of him, found him towards dusk on the trail down from Mt. Tahawus. He rode all night in a wagon and reached the railroad station at North Creek where his secretary was waiting with a special train to rush him to Buffalo.

  When he reached Buffalo towards midday he found that Mr. McKinley was dead and was immediately sworn in as President of the United States.

  T.R.

  Theodore Roosevelt was the youngest man ever to be President. When he moved into the Executive Mansion, which he preferred to call the White House, he brought with him the romping uninhibited family life of Sagamore Hill, where politics and amateur boxing and a passion for wild creatures and wild country mingled with jingo enthusiasms and a real taste for history and for certain kinds of literature. Since Jefferson, whom T.R. acutely disliked, no American president had exhibited such varied interests, or shown himself so completely to the manor born.

  He was the descendant of six generations of eminent New Yorkers. From his mother, a southern gentlewoman from one of the great plantation homes in Georgia, he absorbed the conviction so general among the daughters of the defeated Confederacy, that if the human race had an aristocracy they belonged to it. This established preconception made for social selfconfidence, and enabled him to deal with King Edward or the Kaiser or Manhattan wardheelers or the cowhands on his ranch or his sparring partners from the Tenderloin, on a basis of courteous give and take between equals. The foundation of his personal magnetism was an ardent fellow feeling for all sorts and varieties of men. A man who could be friends with Sir Cecil Spring Rice and John L. Sullivan at the same time could really boast that nothing human was strange to him.

  In his autobiography he described himself as having been “a rather sickly rather timid little boy very fond of desultory reading and natural history, and not excelling in any form of sport.” As a child he suffered terribly from asthma. Very early he was fascinated by the animal kingdom. He used to say that it was the feeling of romance and adventure he got from the sight of a dead seal laid out on a slab of wood outside of a Broadway market that started him on his career as amateur taxidermist and zoologist.

  His parents worried about his nervousness and timidity, but when he found other kids beating him up he took to developing his muscles with dumbbells and exercises. His father arranged for lessons in boxing and wrestling.

  As he grew older he developed a ferocious energy. Overcompensation with a vengeance. In spite of extreme nearsightedness he became a fair shot. He took to long walks and mountainclimbing. He acquired a good seat on a horse.

  Though he loved life outdoors he had a bookish streak. He wrote fluent and expressive English. While still at Harvard College he started, probably under the influence of his mother’s brothers who had both been officers on the blockaderunner Alabama, a highly technical history of American seamanship in the War of 1812.

  The fall after graduating from college he married a Chestnut Hill girl named Alice Lee whom he had fallen desperately in love with during a country walk. The couple settled down at his mother’s house in New York so that T.R. could study law at Columbia, but he was more interested in the assorted characters he met at the local Republican Club. He took up ward politics as he took up boxing, just to prove that he could do it.

  At twentythree as a representative of the “better element”
he found himself elected to the state legislature from the Twentyfirst Assembly District, known as the Diamond Back District, one of the few safely Republican districts in New York. In spite of the embarrassment of a Harvard drawl, dundreary whiskers and pincenez anchored by a black ribbon, he made such an impression on the assemblymen that he was soon being talked of as a possible minority leader. He was beginning to make a name for himself by exposing a stockjobbing scandal in connection with the financing of one of the new elevated railways when he suffered a crushing blow.

  Hurrying joyfully home from Albany one winter weekend to greet his firstborn child he found his Alice dying and his mother desperately ill with typhoid fever. “There is a curse on this house” his brother Elliott cried. Their mother died during the night and Alice the next afternoon. “… as a flower she grew and as a fair young flower she died … when she had just become a mother, when her life seemed to be just begun, and when the years seemed so bright before her,” Theodore wrote in a memorial which he circulated among the family, “the light went from my life for ever.”

  T.R. was no man to let grief get him down. Spring Rice once described his friend Theodore as “pure act.” After finishing up his duties with the legislature as best he could, he headed for the wild west. His father had left him a moderate income. As he put it, he had the bread and butter but he must earn the jam. His first effort to make himself some money was to invest in a Dakota ranch. In his bereavement he decided to give cowpunching his personal attention.

  He stopped off in Chicago to attend the Republican convention. The nomination of James G. Blaine, whom he considered somewhat less than honest, to run against Grover Cleveland, thoroughly disgusted him. When he was asked whether he was going to make ranching his business he said no but it was the best way to avoid campaigning for Blaine.