President Wilson

DESCRIPTION: "Come out Virginia's noble son, We know that you are true, The people of our grand old land They have their hope in you... We'll cast our vote again." "A modest unassuming man." "And we shall win, our cause is just.... it's Wilson's name we hear."
AUTHOR: Words: John J. Friend
EARLIEST DATE: 1916 (Gray-SongsAndBalladsOfTheMaineLumberjacks)
KEYWORDS: political nonballad
HISTORICAL REFERENCES:
1912 - Woodrow Wilson becomes the Democratic nominee for President, and wins when Taft and Theodore Roosevelt split the Republican vote
1916 - Wilson re-elected
FOUND IN:
REFERENCES (1 citation):
Gray-SongsAndBalladsOfTheMaineLumberjacks, pp. 180-181, "President Wilson" (1 text)
NOTES [3201 words]: Presumably a campaign song, but a very strange one, containing neither significant facts nor any real slogans. The only connection with reality that I can see is the mention that Wilson came from Virginia; according to DeGregorio, p. 411, (Thomas) Woodrow Wilson "was born December 28, 1856 at the Presbyteriian manse in Staunton, Virginia."
He wasn't much of a Virginian, however; his parents married in Ohio, then moved to Virginia, where Wilson was born on December 28, 1856. But in 1858, the Wilson family moved to Georgia (Brands, p. 2), and "Tommy" Wilson said that his first memory was when word came in Georgia that Lincoln had been elected President and that war was coming (DeGregorio, p. 411). His family later spent time in South and North Carolina. His father even served in the Confederate army in the Civil War (Brands, p. 2). Wilson regarded himself as a southerner, even though he went to Princeton in 1875 and spent most of his life in the North.
It showed. Chace, p. 43, says Wilson's father had no problems with slavery, and "Woodrow Wilson was in essence a white supremacist." A Black newsletter editor declared, "Both by inheritance and absorption, he has most of the prejudices of the narrowest type of Southern white people against the Negro." His favorite movie was reportedly D. W. Griffith's famous, but famously bigoted, "The Birth of a Nation" (Brands, p. 133). When he became Presient, "Wilson presided over a policy of draconian segregation in the federal government, resulting in a significant loss of black patronage jobs and the extension of Jim Crow laws into federal agencies" (Chace, pp. 243-244). He wasn't much more willing to accept Italians or Poles or Czechs (Chace, pp. 135-136).
Calling Wilson "unassuming" is a bit of a stretch; he didn't think much of his looks, or even of his ability to present himself (DeGregorio, p. 409), but he placed an extreme value on his moral judgment. This even though he had some sort of learning problem and did not learn to read until he was ten years old (Brands, p. 3). "The Wilson historian Arthur Link notes the 'curious limitations in Wilson's intellectual processes.' As he told a reporter in 1916, he hadn't read a serious book through in the fourteen years after accepting the presidency of Princeton." Thus he avoided exposure to anything that might broaden his narrow-mindedness.
Despite this, he became fascinated with writing and debating (Brands, pp. 4-6), and proved surprisingly good at both. Indeed, at times he almost seemed to *be* his rhetoric; he said himself that, by comparison to Theodore Roosevelt, "I am a vague, conjectural personality, more made up of opinion and academic presuppositions than of human traits and red corpuscles" (Chace, p. 3). He had few friends -- and very likely was too easily influenced by seeming friends such as Edward House as a result (Brands, p. 28 -- on p. 64, Brands suggests that he had no friends at all except for his wife, which is one reason why he became deeply depressed when she died, even though he had probably betrayed her not long earlier.)
Because his success was based on words rather than deeds, Wilson become noteworthy at a fairly young age. Jameson, p. 717, sums up the first forty years of his life thus: "Wilson, Woodrow, born in 1856, professor at Princeton College, has become prominent for his writings upon political science. He wrote 'Congressional Government, a Study in American Politics," and 'The State;' also a historical book, 'Division and Reunion, 1830-1880.'"
Wilson had a very unusual career before running for president. He tried law school but couldn't stand it and quit (Brands, p. 9); he did try to practice law, but was not comfortable with it (Brands, p. 10).
As a result, in 1883, he went to the new John Hopkins graduate school and studied political science (Brands, p. 11; Chace, p. 45). He went on to be a professor, lecturer, and author, not a politician (DeGregorio, p. 414). Ironically for the president in history's greatest war up to that time, he had no military experience at all -- he and his predecessor, William Howard Taft, were the only Presidents since Fillmore to have no military background at all when they became President. Wilson did apply for a State Department post in 1887, but didn't get it. His only political experience before becoming President, therefore, was his single term as governor of New Jersey (1911-1913) -- although he had also been President of Princeton for eight years (DeGregorio, p. 414). In that post, he spent most of his time cracking down on student behavior and trying to adjust the academic standards to meet his criteria (Chace, p. 39). (He had also changed what he called himself, ceasing to go by "Tommy" or "Thomas" and instead using the name "Woodrow"; Brands, p. 12).
Although sometimes regarded as a reformer, he was ultimately conservative -- he wanted to clean things up but not change things much, and "advocated one goal above all others -- social order" (Chace, p. 44). He generally did not side with unions and unionism, e.g. (Chace, p. 51), and supported "individual liberty" (Brands, p. 21), which would certainly be called a right-wing position today. He opposed a minimum wage (Chace, p. 206). "His treatment of crises in American History from Shays' Rebellion to the Pullman strike and the Haymarket affair was in the conventional ruling-class vein.... Wilson was not nearly so critical of the business community as of Populists and trade unions" (HofstadterTradition, p. 316).
Plus his Presbyterianism was fairly hard-line -- and very self-serving; he once told off a colleague to whom he owed a great deal that "God ordained that I should be the next president of the United States," In other words, he claimed that he could do what he wanted, including ignoring his political debts, because God had arranged that it would be so (Brands, pp. 24-25).
Stokesburt, p. 309, says of Wilson, "As a fervent believer in the most complete kind of democracy, he yet had a Cromwellian ability to conclude that whatever he himself wanted was what democracy wanted.... Wherever he went [during the post-World War I peace negotiations], he was haiied as a modern messiah, and he tended to take this as no more than his due."
Chace, p. 46, comments that he "was lucky to have a wife who catered to his violent mood swings." Among other things, she let him go to Bermuda, alone, in 1907. Where it seems likely that the Great Moral Leader had an affair (Chace, pp. 46-47; Brands, p. 63). Later, he would send the woman, Mary Hulbert Peck, a gift of $7000 (Chace, p. 250). Details of what happened are few, but there isn't much doubt that Wilson left himself open to major scandal in this period.
Ironically, when Theodore Roosevelt learned of Wilson's transgression, he refused to use it as a campaign issue, saying, "Nothing, no evidence could ever make the American people believe that a man like Woodrow Wilson, cast so perfectly as the apothecary's clerk, could ever play Romeo" (Chace, p. 206).
Ellen Axson Wilson died of kidney disease in 1914, which would affect Wilson's future behavior (Brands, p. 63; Chace, p. 250, says that it was specifically Bright's Disease), but of course no one could know of that in 1912.
He also had health problems. As early as 1896, he might have had a slight stroke, and another, perhaps worse, in 1906, along with a burst blood vessel in his eye. In 1908, he briefly lost the use of his right hand (Brands, pp. 122-123; Chace, pp. 45, 268).
By 1910, his attempts to bring changes to Princeton had aroused such opposition that he had little choice but to give up his post. He was fortunate that George Harvey wanted him to move to politics; this let Wilson resign with dignity to run for Governor of New Jersey (Chace, p. 50).
Wilson was very lucky to be nominated President. To give him his due, he did a good job of cleaning up the mare's nest of New Jersey politics (Morison, p. 839). But that was hardly enough to earn him a Presidential nomination -- except that the party was divided. It had "Bryan Progressives," it had Easterners (often immigrants), and it had the conservative South (Morison, p. 839). In 1912, a majority of the delegates were pledged to Champ Clark of Missouri. But the party required a two-thirds supermajority to nominate. And Clark could not achieve that, although he came very close -- so close that Wilson nearly dropped out of the contest. William Jennings Bryan, seeing that he could not earn the nomination himself, decided to back Wilson (Nevins/Commager, p. 405; Brands, p. 20; Chace, p. 155; for more details both on Clark and the Democratic nomination process, see the notes to "The Hound Dog Song").
It still took 46 ballots to nominate Wilson. Bryan gave Wilson his support on ballot #14; Wilson finally gained a majority on ballot #28, but still had only a slight lead on ballot #45, when suddenly everyone seemed to get tired and turn to him (DeGregorio, p. 415).
And, in 1912, earning the Democratic nomination meant being elected, because the Republicans were split. William Howard Taft had been Theodore Roosevelt's hand-picked successor in 1908, and in many ways he proved progressive; Nevins/Commager, p. 404, note that "He stepped up the prosecution of trusts; strengthened the Interstate Commerce Commission.... expanded the merit system in the civil service; and sponsored enactment of two amendments to the Federal Constitution -- one providing direct election of Senators, another authorizing an income tax."
But he was a sort of a frumpy liberal; a few measures, such as a tariff he accepted even though he didn't like it (and then absurdly called it the best bill ever passed by the Republicans; Chace, p. 34), caused the progressive to turn against him. At the Republican convention of 1912, Theodore Roosevelt and Robert M. LaFollette both ran against him (it was LaFollette who really began the revolt, in 1911; Nevins/Commager, p. 404). Where popular vote elected the delegates, Roosevelt won overwhelmingly (according to Chace, p. 113, he had taken 278 delegates that way, to 48 for Taft and 36 for LaFollette) -- but the party bosses, who chose most of the delegates, backed Taft, and he became the Republican nominee (Morison, p. 838. There is some dispute about just how "legal" all the maneuvers of the Republican National Committee were, but there is no question but that Roosevelt felt robbed; Chace, p. 116).
Roosevelt wouldn't accept that; he accepted the "Progressive" nomination, although most people called him the "Bull Moose" nominee. Certainly his was the most progressive poitical contention; not only were there Black delegates, the Progressives even allowed women delegates (Chace, p. 161). Taft, unfairly, was "put in the position of the 'conservative' candidate" (HofstadterReform, p. 133).
Wilson, urged on by advisor Louis D. Brandeis, offered his vision of a "New Freedom," by which he did not mean, say, equal rights for women and minorities, or labor rights, but rather a control on monopolies (Chace, pp. 194-195). He openly scorned the idea of "government by experts" (Chace, p. 203), partly no doubt to appeal to populists but also (I suspect) because he had never himself managed to become expert on any subject that required interacting with actual facts.
At least Wilson campaigned. So did Roosevelt. Taft, who didn't like being President, mostly played golf (Chace, pp. 220-221).
In a truly complicating twist, there was an attempt to assassinate Roosevelt. He survived, but would-be assassin John Shrank did put a bullet in him. Roosevelt being Roosevelt, he actually went ahead with his planned speech (Chace, pp. 230-231). But eventually he had to rest. It resulted in a brief halt in the campaign (Chace, p. 235), which I suspect helped Wilson. Later, Taft's vice president James Sherman died (Chace, pp. 235-236) -- though that hardly mattered since Taft wasn't really campaigning anyway.
When the election came, Wilson won a mere 42% of the vote, with Roosevelt taking 27%, Taft 23%, and Socialist Eugene Debs 6% -- the best result ever for a Socialist, although it didn't win him any electoral votes (Chace, p. 238). Thus the two Republican candidates, who had once been close friends, garnered 50% of the total vote -- but Wilson had 435 electoral votes, to 88 for Roosevelt and 8 for Taft (DeGregorio, p. 417; Chace, p. 239). It was the lowest vote percentage for a winning candidate since Lincoln in 1860 (when there was a four-way party split), and America would not see the like until the election of Bill Clinton.
In the period before World War I, Wilson worked on systematic improvements in government. Some would be seen as very modern now, such as the actual implementation of the progressive income tax -- but it was a very small income tax, and it merely offset the reduction in tariffs (Brands, p. 34), which was a conservative proposal. He supported a watered-down version of Clayton Anti-Trust Act, which refined the scope of the older Sherman Anti-Trust Act but was not much different in intent (Brands, pp. 36-38). He founded the Federal Reserve, although it was some time before it really figured out its role (Brands, pp. 35-36). He also created the Federal Trade Commission (Chace, p. 244), but that too was of limited import. The Seventeenth Amendment to the U. S. Constitution, providing for direct election of senators, was approved early in his term, but it had been sent to the states before his election, so his credit for that is slight.
His outlook was quite parochial; he had studied American history, and it was his only real interest. Before his inauguration, he commented, "It would be the irony of fate if my administration had to deal chiefly with foreign affairs" (Brands, p. 42; Chace, p. 243). A year and a half later, said irony came to pass.... Indeed, almost from day one, he had to deal with the problem of a non-democratic Mexican government (Brands, pp. 44-45). His interventions there -- and his decisions to send troops to Haiti in 1915 and the Dominican Republic in 1916 (Brands, p. 50), demonstrate that his commitment to peace was not nearly as great as his supporters thought. But he was probably initially influenced by the pacifist William Jennings Bryan (Brands, pp. 54-55), who was his Secretary of State. All that would change when Bryan quit over the Lusitania sinking and Wilson's response (Brands, p. 62).
In late 1915, less than half a year after his first wife's death, Wilson remarried, taking Edith Galt as his second wife in December 1915 (Brands, pp. 67-68).
The song refers to casting "our votes again," implying Wilson is up for re-election, and also speaks of "soldiers coming back once more," implying that World War I has started. Plus Wilson is called "President," not "candidate" or "governor." This implies that Friend's broadside is from 1916, not 1912 -- but it truly does not mention any issues of the 1916 election.
That election was very close; Theodore Roosevelt, who could perhaps have made the Progressive party a permanent institution by running again, instead effectively shut it down by deciding to support the regular Republican candidate Charles Evens Hughes (Chace, p. 252). The Socialists had split, and Eugene Debs wasn't on the ticket, so they weren't a factor (Chace, pp. 254-255; Debs and the Socialists would get 3.5% of the vote in 1920, but it was all downhill from there; Chace, p. 259). Initial reports had Hughes winning the popular vote, and some newspapers thought Hughes had won the election. But late results, especially from the West Coast, let Wilson eke out re-election (Brands, p. 72. WIlson won only 49% of the popular vote, to 46% for Hughes, but Wilson won every state west of the Mississippi except Oregon, South Dakota, Minnesota, and Iowa -- HammondAtlas, p. U-60 -- explaining his late surge).
The irony is that, before Wilson even started his second term, the Germans sent the Zimmerman Telegram to Mexico, and again geared up for unlimited submarine warfare, and Wilson had to decide how much provocation he would accept before he would go to war (Brands, p. 78). He asked for the declaration of war on April 2, 1917 (Brands, pp. 79-80).
In its aftermath came the draft (which Wilson had earlier opposed -- and Champ Clark, we might add, still opposed) and the sedition laws that resulted in the arrest of Eugene Debs among others (Brands, p. 84; Chace, pp. 256-258; Wilson seemed to like the law that muzzled his critics despite its obvious violation of the First Amendment). Wilson, the conservative-at-heart, was becoming a big-government man, though a rather corporate one. In 1918, the Democrats lost control of congress (Brands, p. 99) -- which cost Wilson much of his control over the peace process. His refusal to include Republicans in his negotiating team (Chace, p. 267) left them with no investment in the result, which surely cost the treaty votes. His blindness to others' thinking didn't help, either -- he couldn't keep up with slippery "allies" like Lloyd George and Clemenceau (Brands, pp. 109-111), so he ended up with a League of Nations which was too weak to actually promote collective security but not weak enough to satisfy his congressional opponents. And when he campaigned for it, he was confrontational and treated those whom he needed to convince as if they were opponents (Brands, pp. 118-119).
Wilson revealed some of his own opinions at the time: "'If I didn't believe that I was the personal instrument of God I couldn't carry on.' In contrast, Lloyd George remarked after the peace conference, 'I think I did as well as might be expected, seated as I was between Jesus Christ [presumably Wilson] and Napoleon [Clemenceau]'" (Chace, p. 268). You'd think, if God actually were using Wilson for something, that in addition to the call for the League of Nations, there would have been a message for Wilson not to be a bigot. And, perhaps, to stop being a jerk....
In the aftermath of all that effort, Wilson suffered another and worse stroke -- one so bad that it reportedly changed his personality (Brands, p. 123). But even that was just a foretaste of what was to come. It started with pain and shortness of breath. After hurrying back to Washington (he had been out campaigning for the League), on October 2, 1919, he fell in the bathroom, and thereafter was paralyzed on his left side. (Chace, pp. 124-125). His doctor, his personal advisors, and his wife never revealed how bad it was, but it was bad enough that Wilson never really fulfilled his duties again (Chace, p. 126). And, with the President unable to lobby for the League of Nations, and either unwilling or unable to compromise on the League treaty, the treaty failed (Brands, pp. 127-129; on p. 271, Chace comments that Wilson's "moral rigidity grew worse" after the stroke, which is amazing considering that he was already as ornery as a senile mule). So his best ever idea failed due to his health issue.
The conclusion on p. 131 of Brans is that "Woodrow Wilson lived too long and then died too soon." He lived untll February 3, 1924, but he was never able to do anything after his major stroke (Brands, pp. 133-135). - RBW
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