independence was shortly after forced to give way to the compelling
power of public opinion. On February 15, 1898, by the explosion of a
submarine mine, the Maine, a first-class United States battleship, was
destroyed in Havana harbor, with a loss of 248 officers and men. A
fierce hatred for Spain was thereby added to the sympathy for Cuba, and
war, or the abandonment of Cuba by Spain, became inevitable. A month
after the destruction of the Maine Congress voted the President
$50,000,000 to be used in the National defense. On April 11, President
McKinley, in a message to Congress exhaustively reviewed the Cuban
complications, disclaiming a policy of annexation and arguing for
neutral intervention to enforce peace and secure for the Cubans a stable
government. On the 20th, Congress declared Cuba to be free and
independent, demanded that Spain relinquish her claim of authority, and
authorized the President to use the land and naval forces of the United
States to enforce the demand.
Congress expressly declared: “The United States hereby disclaims any
disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction, or
control over said island, except for the pacification thereof, and
asserts its determination, when that is accomplished, to leave the
government and control of the island to its people.”
From such a lofty plane the United States entered into that brief but
glorious combat with Spain that has rightly been called “the war for
humanity.” On April 23, the President called for 125,000 volunteers. One
of the first who offered the President his services in the war for
“_Cuba libre_” was William J. Bryan. Long before, Mr. Bryan had declared
for intervention, saying, “Humanity demands that we shall act. Cuba lies
within sight of our shores and the sufferings of her people can not be
ignored unless we, as a nation, have become so engrossed in money-making
as to be indifferent to distress.” Mr. Bryan’s proffer was ignored by
the President. He was later commissioned by Governor Holcomb, of
Nebraska, to raise the Third Nebraska regiment of volunteers. This he
did, becoming the colonel of the regiment. General Victor Vifquain, of
Lincoln, a gallant and distinguished veteran of the Civil war was made
lieutenant-colonel.
In the meantime Admiral George Dewey commanding the United States
Asiatic fleet, had set forth from Hong Kong, engaged the Spanish fleet
in Manila bay on May 1, and completely demolished it. Manila was the
capital of the entire Philippine archipelago, with its eight to ten
million inhabitants, then nominally under Spanish sovereignty. The
Filipinos themselves, of whom Admiral Dewey said, “these people are far
superior in their intelligence and more capable of self-government than
the natives of Cuba,” were already in successful revolt against Spain,
battling bravely for their independence. Under the leadership of General
Aguinaldo, and at the invitation of Dewey and the representatives of the
United States state department, the insurgents cooperated as allies with
the American forces from the time of Dewey’s victory until the surrender
of Manila. They were furnished arms and ammunition by Dewey, and were
led to believe that their own independence would be assured on the
expulsion of Spain from the archipelago. During this time they
established a successful and orderly civil government throughout the
greater part of the islands. But at home the United States government
was already beginning to indicate its intention not to grant to the
Filipinos, at the conclusion of the war, the same liberty and
self-government as had been promised the Cubans. Rather, it was becoming
evident it was the purpose of Mr. McKinley and his advisers to hold the
islands as tributary territory, subject to United States’ jurisdiction,
while, at the same time, the inhabitants should be denied the
“inalienable rights” proclaimed by the Declaration of Independence and
guaranteed by our Constitution.
The American people were at a loss what to make of the situation. Their
eyes dazzled by the glories of war and conquest, their cupidity appealed
to by the vaunted richness of the “new possessions,” there still was
latent in their hearts the love for liberty as “the heritage of all men
in all lands everywhere,” and an unspoken fear of incorporating the
government of alien and subject races as an integral portion of the
scheme of American democracy.
Such was the situation when, at Omaha, Neb., on June 14, 1898, Colonel
W. J. Bryan, shortly before the muster-in of his regiment into the
service of the government, sounded the first note of warning against the
insidious dangers of imperialism; the first ringing appeal to the
Republic to remain true to its principles, its traditions, and its high
ideals. In taking his stand on this great question Mr. Bryan acted with
the boldness that has ever characterized him when matters of principle
were at stake. He spoke against the earnest advice of numerous political
friends, who warned him he was taking the unpopular side, and that his
mistake would cost him his political life. Mr. Bryan, because he
believed the policy of the administration to be radically wrong, paid no
heed to all the well-meant protestations, but earnestly warned the
people against the abandonment of the doctrines of the fathers of the
Republic. These were his words:
“History will vindicate the position taken by the United States in the
war with Spain. In saying this I assume that the principles which were
invoked in the inauguration of the war will be observed in its
prosecution and conclusion. If a war undertaken for the sake of humanity
degenerates into a war of conquest we shall find it difficult to meet
the charge of having added hypocrisy to greed. Is our national character
so weak that we can not withstand the temptation to appropriate the
first piece of land that comes within our reach?
“To inflict upon the enemy all possible harm is legitimate warfare, but
shall we contemplate a scheme for the colonization of the Orient merely
because our fleet won a remarkable victory in the harbor at Manila?
“Our guns destroyed a Spanish fleet, but can they destroy that
self-evident truth that governments derive their just powers—not from
force—but from the consent of the governed?
“Shall we abandon a just resistance to European encroachment upon the
western hemisphere, in order to mingle in the controversies of Europe
and Asia?
“Nebraska, standing midway between the oceans, will contribute her full
share toward the protection of our sea coast; her sons will support the
flag at home and abroad, wherever the honor and the interests of the
nation may require. Nebraska will hold up the hands of the government
while the battle rages, and when the war clouds roll away her voice will
be heard pleading for the maintenance of those ideas which inspired the
founders of our government and gave the nation its proud eminence among
the nations of the earth.
“If others turn to thoughts of aggrandizement, and yield allegiance to
those who clothe land covetousness in the attractive garb of ‘national
destiny,’ the people of Nebraska will, if I mistake not their
sentiments, plant themselves upon the disclaimer entered by Congress,
and expect that good faith shall characterize the making of peace as it
did the beginning of war.
“Goldsmith calls upon statesmen:
‘To judge how wide the limits stand
Betwixt a splendid and a happy land.’
If some dream of the splendors of a heterogeneous empire encircling the
globe, we shall be content to aid in bringing enduring happiness to a
homogeneous people, consecrated to the purpose of maintaining ‘a
government of the people, by the people, and for the people.’”
Shortly after this speech Colonel Bryan left Nebraska with his regiment
to go into camp at Tampa, Florida, awaiting orders to Cuba or Porto
Rico. Like most of the other regiments called out by President McKinley,
Colonel Bryan’s was not destined ever to come in sight of a battlefield.
The amazing fact is that while the enormous number of 274,717 soldiers
were mustered into service, only 54,000 ever left American soil up to
the time the protocol was signed, August 12, 1898. The 220,000 were left
through the sweltering summer months in unsanitary camps to broil under
a southern sun. From May 1 to September 30, but 280 American soldiers
were killed in battle, while 2,565 died in fever-stricken camps pitched
in malarial swamps. The entire nation was aroused to the highest pitch
of indignation, and the press, without regard to party, joined in
denouncing the careless, cruel, and incompetent treatment of the
volunteer soldier.
The New York _Herald_ voiced the general feeling when it said:
“’Infamous’ is the only word to describe the treatment that has been
inflicted upon our patriotic soldiers, and under which, despite the
indignant outbursts of a horror-stricken people, thousands of them are
still suffering to-day.” The _Herald_ further declared the soldiers to
be “the victims of job-and-rob politicians and contractors, and of
criminally incompetent and heartlessly indifferent officials.”
For almost six months Colonel Bryan remained with his regiment in camp.
The quarters, the sanitative conditions, and the general arrangements of
the “Third Nebraska” were the pride of the army. Colonel Bryan was at
once “guide, counselor, and friend” to his men, winning the almost
idolatrous love of each and all of them. He gave lavishly of his meager
funds to secure the comfort of the sick and maintain the health of the
strong. His days and nights were devoted to the service of the regiment,
and more than one poor boy, dying of fever far from the wind-swept
Nebraska prairies, passed away holding his Colonel’s hand and breathing
into his Colonel’s ear the last faltering message of farewell to loved
ones at home.
[Illustration]
CHAS. POYNTER SENATOR ALLEN ADLAI STEVENSON MRS.
POYNTER MISS POYNTER C. A. TOWNE
LEWIS G. STEVENSON WEBSTER DAVIS MRS. W. C. POYNTER W.
J. BRYAN GOV. POYNTER
AT THE GOVERNOR’S MANSION, LINCOLN
In joining the volunteer army, as when he delivered the first
anti-imperialist speech, Colonel Bryan had acted against the advice of
many of his closest personal and political friends. Despite his decisive
defeat for the presidency in 1896, he had not only maintained but even
strengthened his position as the recognized leader of the Democratic
party and its allies. Undaunted by the result of the campaign, he had
almost immediately resumed the fight for bimetallism. He had published a
book reviewing the contest under the suggestive and defiant title “The
First Battle.” He had taken to the lecture platform and to the political
hustings, vigorously, hopefully, and earnestly propagating the
principles of democracy, unwavering, unwearying, and undisturbed by the
general depression of his followers and as general exultation of his
opponents. He was the incarnation of the spirit of conservative reform,
and all parties had come to regard him as the prophet and supreme leader
of the new movement back to Jeffersonian principles. His friends feared
to have him accept a commission, not only on the ground that his doing
so might later compel his silence at a time when his voice ought to be
heard, but more largely because they dreaded the possibility of having
his motive impugned. It was evident to them, as to Colonel Bryan
himself, that by taking up the role of colonel of a volunteer regiment,
he had much to risk and lose, and little, if anything, to gain. But the
Democratic leader was not to be dissuaded. Content in his own knowledge
that his motive was worthy and patriotic, he assumed and bore
unostentatiously and yet with dignity the office of military leader of
1,300 of his Nebraska friends and neighbors. He remained faithfully with
his regiment, living the slow and tedious life of the camp, until the
treaty of peace was signed with Spain in December, 1898. That treaty
provided not only for the cession of Porto Rico to the United States and
Spanish relinquishment of all claim to sovereignty over Cuba, but
further for the turning over of the Philippine Islands to the United
States on the payment of $20,000,000. This last concession was wrung
from Spain by the insistent and uncompromising demand of the American
Peace Commissioners, under instructions from the state department at
Washington.
Shortly after the treaty was signed, President McKinley blasted the fond
hopes for independence that had been planted in the Filipinos’ breasts
by issuing this proclamation:
“With the signature of the treaty of peace between the United States and
Spain by their respective plenipotentiaries at Paris on the tenth
instant, and as the result of the victories of American arms, the future
control, disposition, and government of the Philippine Islands are ceded
to the United States. In fulfilment of the rights of sovereignty thus
acquired, and the responsible obligations of government thus assumed,
the actual occupation and administration of the entire group of the
Philippine Islands become immediately necessary, and the military
government heretofore maintained by the United States in the city,
harbor, and bay of Manila is to be extended with all possible dispatch
to the whole of the ceded territory.”
Prior to this time, and later, the President explained his position on
the Philippine question, and we quote from him at some length.
At Chicago, in October, 1898, he said: “My countrymen, the currents of
destiny flow through the hearts of the people. Who will check them? Who
will divert them? Who will stop them? And the movements of men, planned
and designed by the Master of men, will never be interrupted by the
American people.”
At the Atlanta (Ga.) Peace Jubilee in December of the same year, he
said: “That [the American] flag has been planted in two hemispheres, and
there it remains, the symbol of liberty and law, of peace and progress.
Who will withhold it from the people over whom it floats its protecting
folds? Who will haul it down?”
At Savannah, a day or two later he said: “If, following the clear
precepts of duty, territory falls to us, and the welfare of an alien
people requires our guidance and protection, who will shrink from the
responsibility, grave though it may be? Can we leave these people who,
by the fortunes of war and our own acts, are helpless and without
government, to chaos and anarchy after we have destroyed the only
government that they had?”
At the Home Market Club, in Boston, on February 16, 1899, he explained
himself more fully, saying: “Our concern was not for territory or trade
or empire, but for the people whose interests and destiny, without our
willing it, had been put in our hands. It was with this feeling that
from the first day to the last not one word or line went from the
Executive in Washington to our military and naval commanders at Manila
or to our Peace Commissioners at Paris that did not put as the sole
purpose to be kept in mind, first, after the success of our arms and the
maintenance of our own honor, the welfare and happiness and the rights
of the inhabitants of the Philippine Islands. Did we need their consent
to perform a great act for humanity? If we can benefit these remote
peoples, who will object? If, in the years of the future, they are
established in government under law and liberty, who will regret our
perils and sacrifices? Who will not rejoice in our heroism and
humanity?”
One more quotation. At Minneapolis, October 12, 1899, President McKinley
delivered himself of this utterance: “That Congress will provide for
them [the Filipinos] a government which will bring them blessings, which
will promote their material interests, as well as advance their people
in the paths of civilization and intelligence, I confidently believe.”
With such phrase-making as this, concealing in sonorous periods the most
un-American of sentiments, Colonel Bryan’s utterance, delivered
immediately after he had resigned his commission, stands out in bold and
pleasing relief: “I may be in error, but in my judgment our nation is in
greater danger just now than Cuba. Our people defended Cuba against
foreign arms; now they must defend themselves and their country against
a foreign idea—the colonial idea of European nations. Heretofore greed
has perverted the government and used its instrumentalities for private
gains, but now the very foundation principles of our government are
assaulted. Our nation must give up any intention of entering upon a
colonial policy, such as is now pursued by European countries, or it
must abandon the doctrine that governments derive their just powers from
the consent of the governed. To borrow a Bible quotation ‘A house
divided against itself can not stand.’ Paraphrasing Lincoln’s
declaration, I may add that this nation can not endure half republic and
half colony, half free and half vassal. Our form of government, our
traditions, our present interests, and our future welfare, all forbid
our entering upon a career of conquest....
“Some think the fight should be made against ratification of the treaty,
but I would prefer another plan. If the treaty is rejected, negotiations
must be renewed, and instead of settling the question according to our
ideas we must settle it by diplomacy, with the possibility of
international complications. It will be easier, I think, to end the war
at once by ratifying the treaty and then deal with the subject in our
own way. The issue can be presented directly by a resolution of Congress
declaring the policy of the nation upon this subject. The President in
his message says that our only purpose in taking possession of Cuba is
to establish a stable government and then turn that government over to
the people of Cuba. Congress could reaffirm this purpose in regard to
Cuba, and assert the same purpose in regard to the Philippines and Porto
Rico. Such a resolution would make a clear-cut issue between the
doctrine of self-government and the doctrine of imperialism. We should
reserve a harbor and coaling station in Porto Rico and the Philippines
in return for services rendered, and I think we would be justified in
asking the same concession from Cuba.
“In the case of Porto Rico, where the people have as yet expressed no
desire for independent government, we might with propriety declare our
willingness to annex the island, if the citizens desire annexation, but
the Philippines are too far away and their people too different from
ours to be annexed to the United States, even if they desired it.”
In making this statement, and in his subsequent active support of the
treaty, Mr. Bryan’s course was again opposed to the wishes and advice of
many of his close political friends. In fact, before Mr. Bryan took his
firm stand probably the majority of Democratic leaders in and out of
Congress were opposed to the ratification of the treaty because of its
Philippine clause. But Mr. Bryan, while as strongly opposed to this
clause as anyone, was anxious to see the war finally ended. He knew that
for the Senate to reject the treaty would prolong the war perhaps a year
or more, and, further, that it might lead to endless and unpleasant
complications. Once the war was ended, he held, the American people
themselves could dispose of the Philippine question.
Largely owing to the aid extended the administration by Mr. Bryan, the
treaty was ratified by the Senate. Those senators who were opposed to
the imperial policy of President McKinley supported the “Bacon
resolution” as a declaration of this nation’s purpose toward the
Philippines and Filipinos. This resolution declared:
“The United States hereby disclaim any disposition or intention to
exercise permanent sovereignty, jurisdiction, or control over said
islands, and assert their determination, when a stable and independent
government shall have been erected therein, entitled in the judgment of
the government of the United States to recognition as such, to transfer
to said government, upon terms which shall be reasonable and just, all
rights secured under the cession by Spain, and to thereupon leave the
government and control of the islands to their people.”
The Democratic policy, as outlined by Mr. Bryan, was the support of the
treaty and of the foregoing resolution. The treaty was ratified, but the
resolution, though supported by practically the solid Democratic,
Populist, and Silver Republican strength in the Senate, and by a number
of Republican senators who were opposed to the imperial policy, was
defeated by the deciding vote of Vice-President Hobart. Had the
resolution been adopted, and the Philippines been given the same promise
of independence and self-government as had already been given Cuba, it
is believed that the long, bloody, and costly war in the Philippine
Islands might have been averted, and the abandoned old-world heresy of
the right of one man to rule another without that other’s consent would
not now have regained a footing on the soil of the great American
Republic.
In the meantime the President’s proclamation of December 21, 1898, to
the Filipinos, asserting the sovereignty of the United States over them
and theirs had provoked a veritable hurricane of indignation among that
people.
The characteristic that distinguishes the Filipinos from all other
Asiatic races is their fierce, inherent love for liberty. For three
hundred years they had been intermittently battling with the Spaniard to
regain what they had lost, and the palm of victory was within their
eager reach on the day that Dewey’s guns first thundered across Manila
bay. Knowing as they did that the United States had gone to war to
secure liberty for the Cubans, why should they doubt the securing of
their own liberty as well?
The President’s proclamation came like a thunder clap. General Otis, who
was commander-in-chief of the American forces in the Philippines,
reported its effect as follows:
“Aguinaldo met the proclamation by a counter one in which he indignantly
protested against the claim of sovereignty by the United States in the
islands, which really had been conquered from the Spaniards through the
blood and treasure of his countrymen, and abused me for my assumption of
the title of military governor. Even the women of Cavite province, in a
document numerously signed by them, gave me to understand that after all
the men are killed off they are prepared to shed their patriotic blood
for the liberty and independence of their country.”
The revulsion was complete. Before the proclamation was issued, it is
true, there had been growing among the Filipinos a feeling of distrust
of the Americans, and of doubt whether, after all, they were to be
conceded their independence. For, at the surrender of Manila, although
its capture had been impossible without the aid of the insurgents, they
were studiously excluded from any share of the honor, and thus given the
first intimation of the final treachery of the administration. Later the
Filipinos were refused a hearing at Washington, and again before the
Peace Commission which was to dispose of them like chattels.
Actual hostilities broke out February 4, 1899, and are thus referred to
by President McKinley in his message to Congress December 4, 1899: “The
aggression of the Filipinos continually increased, until finally, just
before the time set by the Senate of the United States for a vote upon
the treaty, an attack, evidently prepared in advance, was made all along
the American lines, which resulted in a terribly destructive and
sanguinary repulse of the insurgents.”
The report of General Otis, reads as follows (page 96): “The battle of
Manila commenced at half past eight o’clock, on the evening of February
4 (1899), and continued until five o’clock the next evening. The
engagement was strictly defensive on the part of the insurgents, and one
of vigorous attack by our forces.”