During the first years of Roosevelt's Administration he had to
encounter many conditions which existed rather from the momentum
they had from the past than from any living vigor of their own.
It was a time of transition. The group of politicians dating from
the Civil War was nearly extinct, and the leaders who had come to
the front after 1870 were also much thinned in number, and fast
dropping off. Washington itself was becoming one of the most
beautiful cities in the world, with its broad avenues, seldom
thronged, its circles and squares, whose frequenters seemed never
busy, its spirit of leisure, its suggestion of opulence and
amplitude, and of a not too zealous or disturbing hold on
reality. You still saw occasionally a tiny cottage inhabited by a
colored family cuddled up against a new and imposing palace, just
as you might pass a colored mammy on the same sidewalk with a
millionaire Senator, for the residential section had not yet been
socially standardized.
Only a few years before, under President Cleveland, a single
telephone sufficed for the White House, and as the telephone
operator stopped work at six o'clock, the President himself or
some member of his family had to answer calls during the evening.
A single secretary wrote in long hand most of the Presidential
correspondence. Examples of similar primitiveness might be found
almost everywhere, and the older generation seemed to imagine
that a certain slipshod and dozing quality belonged to the very
idea of Democracy. If you were neatly dressed and wide awake, you
would inevitably be remarked among your fellows; such remark
would imply superiority; and to be superior was supposedly to be
undemocratic.
Nevertheless this was a time of transition, and the vigor which
emanated from the young President passed like electricity through
all lines and hastened the change. He caused the White House to
be remodeled and fitted on the one hand for social purposes which
required much more spacious accommodation, and on the other for
offices in which he could conduct the largely increased
Presidential business. Instead of one telephone there were many
working night and day, and instead of a single longhand
secretary, there were a score of stenographers and typists.
Before he left Washington he saw a vast Union Station erected
instead of the over-grown shanties at Sixth Street, and he had
encouraged the laying-out of the waste places beyond the Capitol,
thus adding to the city another and imposing section. His
interest did not stop at politics, nor at carrying through the
reforms he had at heart. He attended with equal keenness and
solicitude to external improvements.
Now at first, as I have suggested, his chief duty was to continue
President McKinley's policies, which concerned mostly the
establishment of our insular dependencies, and the readjustment
of our diplomatic relations. I have described how he closed the
dispute over the Alaskan Boundary, over our joint control with
England over the Isthmus of Panama, and how he circumvented the
attempt of the Colombian blackmailers to block our construction
of the Canal.
We must now glance at a matter of almost equal importance--our
relations with Germany. The German attack on civilization, which
was openly delivered in 194, revealed to the world that for
twenty years before the German Emperor had been secretly
preparing his mad project of Universal Conquest. We see now that
he used all sorts of base tools German exchange professors,
spies, bribers, conventional insinuators and corrupters,
organizers of pro-German sentiment, and of societies of German
Americans. So little did he and his lackeys understand the
American spirit that they assumed that at the given signal the
people of the United States would gladly go over to them. He
counted on securing North and South America by commerce and
corruption, and not by armed force. The reaffirmation of the
Monroe Doctrine by President Cleveland in 1895 seriously troubled
him; for he contemplated planting German colonies in Central and
South America without resistance, but the Monroe Doctrine in its
latest interpretation forbade him or any foreign government from
establishing dominion in either American continent. Still, two
things comforted him: the Americans were, he thought, a loose,
happy-go-lucky people, without any consecutive or deep-laid
policy, as foolish republicans must be; and next, he knew that he
had the most powerful army in the world, which, if put to the
test, would crush the undisciplined American militia at the first
onset. He adopted, therefore, a double policy: he pretended
openly to be most friendly to the Americans; he flattered all of
them whom he could reach in Berlin, and he directed an effusive
propaganda in the United States. In secret, how ever, he lost no
occasion to harm this country. When the Spanish War came in 1898,
he tried to form a naval coalition of his fleet with those of
France and England, and it was only the refusal of England to-
join in it which saved this country from disaster. The United
States owe Mr. Balfour, who at that time controlled the British
Foreign Office, an eternal debt of gratitude, because it was he
who replied to the Kaiser's secret temptation: "No: if the
British fleet takes any part in this war, it will be to put
itself between the American fleet and those of your coalition."
The Kaiser expressed his real sentiment towards the United States
in a remark which he made later, not expecting that it would
reach American ears. "If I had had ships enough," he said, "I
would have taken the Americans by the scruff of the neck." As it
was, he showed his purpose to those who had eyes to see it, by
ordering the German Squadron under Diederichs to go to Manila and
take what he could there. Fortunately before he could take Manila
or the Philippines he had to take the American Commodore, George
Dewey, and when he discovered what sort of a sea-fighter the
mountains of Vermont had produced in Dewey, he decided not to
attack him. Perhaps also the fact that the English commander at
Manila, Captain Chichester, stood ready to back up Dewey caused
Diederichs to back down. The true Prussian truculence always
oozes out when it has not a safe margin of superiority in
strength on its side.
The Kaiser was not to be foiled, however, in his determination to
get a foothold in America. As the likelihood that the Panama
Canal would be constructed became a certainty, he redoubled his
efforts. He tried to buy from a Mexican Land Company two large
ports in Lower California for "his personal use." These would
have given him, of course, control over the approach to the Canal
from the Pacific. Simultaneously he sent a surveying expedition
to the Caribbean Sea, which found a spacious harbor, that might
serve as a naval base, on an unoccupied island near the main line
of vessels approaching the Canal from the east, but before he
could plant a force there; the presence of his surveyors was
discovered, and they sailed away.
He now resorted to a more cunning ruse. The people of Venezuela
owed considerable sums to merchants and bankers in Germany,
England, and Italy, and the creditors could recover neither their
capital nor the interest on it. The Kaiser bethought him self of
the simple plan of making a naval demonstration against the
Venezuelans if they did not pay up; he would send his troops
ashore, occupy the chief harbors, and take in the customs. To
disguise his ulterior motive, he persuaded England and Italy to
join him in collecting their bill against Venezuela. So warships
of the three nations appeared off the Venezuelan coast, and for
some time they maintained what they called "A peaceful blockade."
After a while Secretary Hay pointed out that there could be no
such thing as a peaceful blockade; that a blockade was, by its
very nature, an act of war; accordingly the blockaders declared a
state of belligerency between themselves and Venezuela, and
Germany threatened to bombard the seacoast towns unless the debt
was settled without further delay. President Roosevelt had no
illusions as to what bombardment and occupation by German troops
would mean. If a regiment or two of Germans once went into
garrison at Caracas or Porto Cabello, the Kaiser would secure the
foothold he craved on the American Coast within striking distance
of the projected Canal, and Venezuela, unable to ward off his
aggression, would certainly be helpless to drive him out. Mr.
Roosevelt allowed Mr. Herbert W. Bowen, the American Minister to
Venezuela, to serve as Special Commissioner for Venezuela in
conducting her negotiations with. Germany. He, himself, however,
took the matter into his own hands at Washington. Having sounded
England and Italy, and learned that they were willing to
arbitrate, and knowing also that neither of them schemed to take
territorial payment for their bills, he directed his diplomatic
attack straight at the Kaiser. When the German Ambassador, Dr.
von Holleben, one of the pompous and ponderous professorial sort
of German officials, was calling on him at the White House, the
President told him to warn the Kaiser that unless he consented,
within a given time--about ten days--to arbitrate the Venezuelan
dispute, the American fleet under Admiral Dewey would appear off
the Venezuelan coast and defend it from any attack which the
German Squadron might attempt to make. Holleben displayed
consternation; he protested that since his Imperial Master had
refused to arbitrate, there could be no arbitration. His Imperial
Master could not change his Imperial Mind, and the dutiful
servant asked the President whether he realized what such a
demand meant. The President replied calmly that he knew it meant
war. A week passed, but brought no reply from Berlin; then
Holleben called again at the White House on some unimportant
matters; as he turned to go the President inquired, "Have you
heard from Berlin?" "No," said Holleben. "Of course His Imperial
Majesty cannot arbitrate." "Very well, " said Roosevelt, "you may
think it worth while to cable to Berlin that I have changed my
mind. I am sending instructions to Admiral Dewey to take our
fleet to Venezuela next Monday instead of Tuesday." Holleben
brought the interview to a close at once and departed with
evident signs of alarm. He returned in less than thirty-six hours
with relief and satisfaction written on his face, as he informed
the President, "His Imperial Majesty consents to arbitrate."
In order to screen the Kaiser's mortification from the world,
Roosevelt declared that his transaction--which only he, the
Kaiser, and Holleben knew about--should not be made public at the
time; and he even went so far, a little later, in speaking on the
matter as to refer to the German Emperor as a good friend and
practicer of arbitration.
Many years later, when Roosevelt and I discussed this episode we
cast about for reasons to account for the Kaiser's sudden
back-down. We concluded that after the first interview Holleben
either did not cable to Berlin at all, or he gave the message
with his own comment that it was all a bluff. After the second
interview, he consulted Buenz, the German Consul-General at New
York, who knew Roosevelt well and knew also the powerfulness of
Dewey's fleet. He assured Holleben that the President was not
bluffing, and that Dewey could blow all the German Navy, then in
existence, out of the water in half an hour. So Holleben sent a
hot cablegram to Berlin, and Berlin understood that only an
immediate answer would do.
Poor, servile, old bureaucrat Holleben! The Kaiser soon treated
him as he was in the habit of treating any of his servile
creatures, high or low, who made a fiasco. Deceived by the
glowing reports which his agents in the United States sent to
him, the Kaiser believed that the time was ripe for a visit by a
Hohenzollern, to let off the pent-up enthusiasm of the
German-Americans and to stimulate the pro-German conspiracy here.
Accordingly Prince Henry of Prussia came over and made a
whirlwind trip, as far as Chicago; but it was in no sense a royal
progress. Multitudes flocked to see him out of curiosity, but
Prince Henry realized, and so did the German kin here, that his
mission had failed. A scapegoat must be found, and apparently
Holleben was the chosen victim.
The Kaiser cabled him to resign and take the next day's steamer
home, alleging "chronic illness" as an excuse. He sailed from
Hoboken obediently, and there were none so poor as to do him
reverence. The sycophants who had fawned upon him while he was
enjoying the Imperial favor as Ambassador took care not to be
seen waving a farewell to him from the pier. Instead of that,
they were busy telling over his blunders. He had served French
instead of German champagne at a banquet for Prince Henry, and he
had allowed the Kaiser's yacht to be christened in French
champagne. How could such a blunderer satisfy the diplomatic
requirements of the vain and petty Kaiser? And yet! Holleben was
utterly devoted and willing to grovel in the mud. He even
suggested to President Roosevelt that at the State Banquet at the
White House, Prince Henry, as a Hohenzollern, and the
representative of the Almightiest Kaiser, should walk out to
dinner first; but there was no discussion, for the President
replied curtly, "No person living precedes the President of the
United States in the White House."
Henceforth the Kaiser understood that the United States
Government, at least as long as Roosevelt was President, would
repel any attempt by foreigners to violate the Monroe Doctrine,
and set up a nucleus of foreign power in either North or South
America. He devoted himself all the more earnestly to pushing the
sly work of peaceful penetration, that work of spying and lying
in which the German people proved itself easily first. The
diabolical propaganda, aimed not only at undermining the United
States, at seducing the Irish and other hyphenate groups of
Americans, but at polluting the Mexicans and several of the South
American States; and later there was a thoroughly organized
conspiracy to stir up animosity between this country and Japan by
making the Japanese hate and suspect the Americans, and by making
the Americans hate and suspect the Japanese. I alluded just now
to the fact that German intrigue was working in Bogota, and
influenced the Colombian blackmailers in refusing to sign the Hay
Herran Canal Treaty with the United States, and peered about in
the hope of snapping up the Canal rights for Germany.
Outwardly, during the first decade of the twentieth century, the
Kaiser seemed to be most active in interfering in European
politics, including those of Morocco, in which the French were
entangled. In 1904 the war between Russia and Japan broke out.
Roosevelt remained strictly neutral towards both belligerents,
making it evident, however, that either or both of them could
count on his friendly offices if they sought mediation. At the
beginning of the war, it was generally assumed that the German
Kaiser shed no tears over the Russian reverses, for the weaker
Russia became, the less Germany needed to fear her as a neighbor.
At length, however, when it looked as if the Japanese might
actually shatter the Russian Empire, Germany and the other
European Powers seemed to have had a common feeling that a
decided victory by an Asiatic nation like Japan would certainly
require a readjustment of world politics, and might not only put
in jeopardy European interests and control in Asia, but also
raise up against Europe what the Kaiser had already advertised as
the Yellow Peril. I have no evidence that President Roosevelt
shared this anxiety; on the contrary, I think that he was not
unwilling that a strong Japan should exist to prevent the
dismemberment of Eastern Asia by European land-grabbers.
By the spring of 1905, both Russia and Japan had fought almost to
exhaustion. The probability was that Russia with her vast
population could continue to replenish her army. Japan, with
great pluck, after winning amazing victories, which left her
weaker and weaker, made no sign of wishing for an armistice.
Roosevelt, however, on his own motion wrote a private letter to
the Czar, Nicholas II, and sent George Meyer, Ambassador to
Italy, with it on a special mission to Petrograd. The President
urged the Czar to consider making peace, since both the Russians
and the Japanese had nearly fought them selves out, and further
warfare would add to the losses and burdens, already tremendous,
of both people. Probably he hinted also that another disaster in
the field might cause an outbreak by the Russian Revolutionists.
I have not seen his letter--perhaps a copy of it has escaped, in
the Czar's secret archives, the violence of the Bolshevists--but
I have heard him speak about it. I have reason to suppose also
that he wrote privately to the Kaiser to use his influence with
the Czar. At any rate, the Czar listened to the President's
advice, and by one of those diplomatic devices by which both
parties saved their dignity, an armistice was arranged and, in
the summer of 1905, the Peace was signed. The following year, the
Trustees of the Nobel Peace Prize recognized Roosevelt's large
part in stopping the war, by giving the Prize to him.
Meanwhile, the irritation between France and Germany had
increased to the point where open rupture was feared. For years
Germany had been waiting for a propitious moment to swoop down on
France and overwhelm her. The French intrigues in Morocco, which
were leading visibly to a French Protectorate over that country,
aroused German resentment, for the Germans coveted Morocco
themselves. The Kaiser went so far as to invite Roosevelt to
interfere with him in Morocco, but this, the President replied,
was impossible. Probably he was not unwilling to have the German
Emperor understand that, while the United States would interfere
with all their might to prevent a foreign attack on the Monroe
Doctrine, they meant to keep their hands off in European
quarrels. That he also had a clear idea of William II's
temperament appears from the following opinion which I find in a
private letter of his at this time: "The Kaiser had weekly pipe
dreams."
The situation grew very angry, and von Billow, the German
Chancellor, did not hide his purpose of upholding the German
pretensions, even at the cost of war. President Roosevelt then
wrote--privately--to the Kaiser impressing it upon him that for
Germany to make war on France would be a crime against
civilization, and he suggested that a Conference of Powers be
held to discuss the Moroccan difficulty, and to agree upon terms
for a peaceful adjustment. The Kaiser finally accepted
Roosevelt's advice, and after a long debate over the
preliminaries, the Conference was held at Algeciras, Spain.
That Roosevelt understood, or even suspected, the great German
conspiracy which the Kaiser's hire lings were weaving over the
United States is wholly improbable. Had he known of any plot he
would have been the first to hunt it down and crush it. He knew
in general of the extravagant vaporings of the Pan-Germans; but,
like most of us, he supposed that there was still enough sanity,
not to say common sense, left in Germany to laugh such follies
away. Through his intimate friend, Spring-Rice, subsequently the
British Ambassador, he had early and sound information of the
conditions of Germany. He watched with curiosity the abnormal
expansion of the German Fleet. All these things simply confirmed
his belief that the United States must attend seriously to the
business of making military and naval preparations.
Secretary Hay had already secured the recognition by the European
Powers of the policy of the Open Door in China, the year before
Roosevelt became President, but the struggle to maintain that
policy had to be kept up for several years. On November 21, 1900,
John Hay wrote to Henry Adams: "At least we are spared the infamy
of an alliance with Germany. I would rather, I think, be the dupe
of China, than chum of the Kaiser. Have you noticed how the world
will take anything nowadays from a German? Billow said yesterday
in substance--'We have demanded of China everything we can think
of. If we think of anything else we will demand that, and be d--d
to you'--and not a man in the world kicks."*
* W. R. Thayer: John Hay, II, 248.
By an adroit move similar to that by which Hay had secured the
unwilling adherence of the Powers to his original proposal of the
Open Door, he, with Roosevelt's sanction, prevented the German
Emperor from carrying out a plan to cut up China and divide the
slices among the Europeans.
Equally adroit was Roosevelt's method of dealing with the Czar in
1903. Russian mobs ran amuck and massacred many Jews in the city
of Kishineff. The news of this atrocity reached the outside world
slowly: when it came, the Jews of western Europe, and especially
those of the United States, cried out in horror, held meetings,
drew up protests, and framed petitions, asking the Czar to punish
the criminals. Leading American Jews besought Roosevelt to plead
their cause before the Czar. As it was well known that the Czar
would refuse to receive such petitions, and would regard himself
as insulted by whatever nation should lay them before him by
official diplomatic means, the world wondered what Roosevelt
would do. He took one of his short cuts, and chose a way which
everybody saw was most obvious and most simple, as soon as he had
chosen it. He sent the petitions to our Ambassador at Petrograd,
accompanying them with a letter which recited the atrocities and
grievances. In this letter, which was handed to the Russian
Secretary of State, our Government asked whether His Majesty the
Czar would condescend to receive the petitions. Of course the
reply was no, but the letter was published in all countries, so
that the Czar also knew of the petitions, and of the horrors
which called them out. In this fashion the former Ranchman and
Rough Rider outwitted, by what I may call his straightforward
guile, the crafty diplomats of the Romanoffs.