Topic 31
GERMANS IN AMERICA

THERE is nothing in sound Americanism that will not be endorsed by the preponderating majority of the men and women of German blood in America."

This sentiment Colonel Roosevelt expressed again and again to all who would listen to him before, during, and after hostilities.  He was most emphatic in declaring it after leaving Milwaukee, and again on leaving St.  Louis.

After a meeting in Toledo, largely made up of Germans, he declared they resented only "pseudoAmericanism."

"It is," said he, "only the pseudo-Americanism of Wilson that they object to."

With this declaration went a call for fair play for the Germans in this country and he went out of his way to practice what he preached.

A notable example of this was in St.  Louis, which in addition to a large German population also has a Mayor of German blood — Henry Kiel.

When the Colonel paid his last visit to St.  Louis, he was very sick with erysipelas.  He was insistent on keeping the dates made for him by the National Security League, and, by following his physician's orders to get all possible rest, managed to do so.  In St.  Louis, however, conditions made it necessary that he take a hand in arranging the details of his meeting, lest injustice be done somebody and a bad matter made worse.

This condition, partly political and partly hysterical, arose from the fact that the local committee was not in sympathy with Mayor Kiel, who, according to some of its members, was pro-German.  For this reason Kiel had been overlooked to a large extent in making the arrangements for the Colonel's reception and meeting.  To this meeting the Colonel insisted upon being introduced by the Mayor.  The active members of the committee did not wish anything of the sort, the Mayor was not on hand to speak for himself, and there was no one to speak for him.

In this muddle the Colonel insisted that courtesy and fair play demanded that Kiel be given an opportunity to decline to take part in the meeting, and that every other consideration supported this demand.  If the Mayor declined, it would, he said, be another story.

"Then I'll hang his hide on the barn door," he declared to me; "but I'll not attack him nor any other man until I am sure of my grounds for attacking."

After much backing and filling, Judge Dyer, whom the Colonel, as President, had placed on the Federal Bench, called to leave a card.

" I understand the Colonel is not well, so I won't ask to disturb him," he said.

I asked him to wait until I could learn the Colonel's wishes in the matter.

"By all means," he exclaimed.  "He is the one man in St.  Louis I do want to see."

"The Judge," he told me after the visit, "says Kiel is all right.  He knows.  I’d rather have that old hard shell's opinion than that of any other man here.  These young men on this committee are nice boys, but they don't know.  If they were residents of New York, they would be members of the Citizens' Union, and strong for reform, but they would not know the names of their Assemblymen."

It was, however, not easy to locate Mr.  Kiel; he was not, in fact, located until the Colonel reached the barnlike Auditorium where the meeting was to be held.  Just before we left for the hall, I asked what would be done about Kiel.

"We will do nothing until we find whether or not the Mayor shows up," he said.  " If he does, all right.  If he doesn't, well, I'll preside myself if I have to."

Mayor Kiel was, however, waiting at the hall, a bit nervous, but glad to do the honors.  His brief, clean cut speech was satisfactory even to the Colonel, who was mightily pleased with the way the matter turned out.

"Don't you see," he asked, on the way back to the hotel, " that it was far better to do as we did do? Had we proceeded on the theory that Kiel was all he was said to be, an injustice would be done to the man, the cause for which we all stand would be injured, and we should have gone far toward setting up such another situation as exists in Chicago.  Kiel is not another Mayor Thompson; he is entirely of another type, and he is making the best of a condition that at times must be very difficult for him.

" It is always best to be fair in the extreme in such matters; best to go slow until you have all the facts.  Then if the man is wrong hit him, and hit him hard; show him no mercy.  Had Kiel justified what they had said about him and not taken part in that meeting, I’d have pilloried him.  I 'm glad I did not have to.

"Just think how it would have heartened the enemy abroad and the enemy at home if it had gone broadcast: 'Roosevelt denounces St.  Louis Mayor as Pro-German'; or, 'St.  Louis Mayor refuses to speak at Loyalty Meeting.'

" Did you notice how well the crowd took what I had to say about Germany and straight Americanism? That audience was very largely German — it was full of German types — but they all seemed to like it.  There was one chap there — I wonder if you noticed him, he sat well down front and looked like the German bandsman the funny papers print — he enjoyed it every minute.  If I had time and it were possible I’d like to meet that old fellow and talk with him.  Without knowing a thing about him, I’ll wager that he is one of those Germans who left Germany to escape the' Kultur' we are now fighting to escape."

" I watched Kiel closely during your speech," I said, " and he seemed as well pleased as your German down front did."

" Probably, though he is in rather a different position.  But the old Judge was all right.  Depend upon men of his type.  He's an old hard shell Republican, on the bench and out of politics, but he knows more than all the nice boys on the committee ever will.  Steve Connell, whom you met today, is another shrewd fellow.  He was with me when I was in the White House — secret service, you know.  He's a fine fellow and I 'm glad to have you meet him.  You'll find him dependable and straightforward."

This visit to St.  Louis was part of an "invasion of the enemy's country," including Milwaukee, and Springfield, Ohio, the latter the seat of Wittenberg College, one of the oldest Lutheran institutions in the country, and Madison, Wisconsin, seat of the State University, which Dr.  Robert M.  McElroy, of Princeton, had reported, after rather an unpleasant experience, "was not one hundred per cent loyal." Proceeding to these places, the Colonel declared it to be his intention to "give them all that is in me."

" In Milwaukee," said he," I shall give them everything I have said anywhere else and, if I can think of it, something more.  Being in what Bryan might call the 'enemy's country' will make no difference with me.  I do not anticipate any bother, but if there is any, we shall have to make the best of it."

Anticipating "bother," secret service men detailed by the management of the St.  Paul road, the Colonel's ever faithful colored valet, James Amos, to whom his last words, "Please turn off the light," were spoken, and I grouped ourselves about him as he left the train.  He broke away from the group to greet a white whiskered old man who walked with a cane.  "General," he exclaimed, "this is almighty good of you to come and see me! I wanted to have a talk with you.  I was going to call at your home.  May I call there or will I see you at the hotel? Which is the more convenient to you?"

"I am surprised you remember me," said the old man.  "It is many years since you have seen me.  I will see you at the hotel."

"Come right up now.  Yes, indeed, come right up with me.  I am glad to see you and you must come to the meeting.  I want you on the platform."

The old man, the Colonel introduced as General Mueller.
"He lost a leg in the Union Army," he told me at the hotel.  "He's the kind of man that has saved the mass of Germans in this country from the infamy some of their number would put upon all: men like him and Adolph Vogel whom you just met.  The General tells me that his grandsons are all in the army and all but one of Vogel's boys are there too.  That one goes next month.

"Vogel tells me they have the largest hall in town and that it's already packed with Germans.  He has no doubt as to my reception.  Neither have I.  But I am going to talk straight at them."

He did.  Among the new notes struck was a hard drive on the teaching of German in grade schools.  To my surprise this was the "hit" of the speech.  I mentioned this surprise to the Colonel.
"That has been a big issue here," he said.

After the meeting a young man, evidently a graduate of some German university to judge by the duelling scars on his cheeks, told me the Colonel's talk was "the sort needed."

"What the Germans here have had, in private talk at least, has been abuse," he said.  "Loyal men have been abused as much as those openly disloyal.  This has tended to increase disloyalty.  The Colonel's talk will weaken the Bergers and strengthen men like Vogel.  Milwaukee is all right."

"The young man is not entirely accurate," the Colonel commented when I repeated his remarks.  "He is quite correct on the matter of abuse.  But he is wrong in saying that Milwaukee is all right.  There is a big element here that is all wrong.  Milwaukee today may be sixty per cent all right, fifteen per cent in the shadow zone, and twenty-five per cent dead wrong.  It cannot be all right with a Socialist Mayor, a Socialist Chief of Police, and a Socialist Sheriff.  Remember, the Socialist Party which elected these men is not an American institution."

Springfield, Ohio, like Milwaukee, is largely populated by persons of German birth or blood.  In addition to Wittenberg College, which, in the commonly used term, is a German school, it had thirteen churches in which German was the only language used and four where both German and English prevailed.  The school had suffered because of its supposed German leanings, and Springfield as a whole was not pleased with the reputation that it was inclined to be pro-German.

Dr.  Hecker, an aggressive type of college president, more the able administrator than the great teacher, was very anxious to overcome the feeling that had been aroused, and as one way to accomplish the desired result invited the Colonel to address the school.  Other interests joined in the invitation.

"I have," said the Colonel, speaking of his decision to accept, "no delusions as to Dr.  Hecker's self interest in inviting me to address the school.  It is natural and proper on his part.  But I won't toe down one bit.

"It is just the sort of place I want to speak, but I am not going to temper my remarks to please anybody.  Of course they say there is no pro-Germanism in that country and that they are poor, much abused, little woolly lambs.  That fools nobody.  They are now trying to run straight.  Very well.  I will help them by giving them the cleanest cut Americanism that is in me.  They have agreed to this and they will get it.

"They have also agreed to my terms as to arrangements.  I will be introduced by the President, who is a Lutheran minister of German blood, and the prayer will be by a Roman Catholic priest of German birth, Father Vottman.  He is a major in the regular army, an old chaplain, and a Monsignor in the Church.  He helped immensely in adjusting the Philippine church troubles.

" I propose also to say a word to them on the wisdom of the Lutheran Church making English the church language in this country.  Otherwise, the Lutheran Church, powerful as it now is, must go the way of the Dutch Reformed Church to which I have the honor to belong.  Had it changed to English, it would in all probability be one of the leading churches in New York at least.  But it stuck to Dutch too long; the younger people drifted away until, too late, English was made the church language.  I would very much regret a like fate for the Lutheran Church.  I want it to continue, as it is today, a permanent and powerful factor in American life."

Returning East, Colonel Roosevelt spoke regretfully of the changed position the German found himself in in this country.

"I was," he said, "very sorry at the changes in Milwaukee.  This was my first visit there, you know, since that madman shot me.  Before, when I went to Milwaukee, my German friends were a happy lot.  After a meeting I would go to their club, there would be light refreshments, singing, real good fellowship.  Now all this is changed.  Men like Vogel, real Americans, who are doing their full duty, are saddened by the position some Germans would put all of their kind in America in.  They have no doubt of the out come of the war — they know it must end in Germany's defeat; but, naturally, they fear the reaction on the Germans in this country.  Some of them in Milwaukee have behaved very badly.  I do not refer to Berger and his class.  I mean a higher, and supposedly more respectable, type.

"Some few of the wealthier and more influential ones have been foolish enough to start a sort of boycott.  Take Willett Spooner.  Spooner had a splendid law practice, largely with Germans here.  Overnight almost, I am told, it fell away.  Spooner had given offence by taking a strong American position.  That, of course, is rough on Spooner, but he will survive it.  The very people who tried to hurt him will be glad to go back to him and ask his help when this thing is over.  They will suffer, not he.

"The German in this country has been a good citizen.  He has been thrifty and hard working as a very general rule; he has contributed to the welfare of every community in which he lived.  He has been law abiding — in a word, has met his obligations squarely.  This is particularly true of the older Germans.  Properly handled there would have been very little difficulty with them.  If, from the start, it had been made clear to them that we were at war, not with them, but with the Germans in France and Belgium with guns in their hands trying to impose upon the world the things they left Germany to escape, and that they were expected and relied upon to do their full part just as any other group of citizens were expected to do theirs, there would have been little misunderstanding and very little of this feeling.

"I have absolutely no sympathy with the over zealous patriot who would persecute everybody here with a German name.  It is all wrong.  It is like the case of an old German waiter, Emil — huh, the last name has escaped me.  I knew him when I was Police Commissioner.  Not long since I met him as I was leaving the Metropolitan office.  He spoke and I remembered him.  I asked him how he was getting along.

'' Oh, purty veil,' he said; ' my two boys are gone, one in the army and one in the navy, my son-in-law is gone, and I have his wife and the grandchildren home with me, but still some people call me '' dot damn Cherman."

"I told him he was a pretty good American and that I was proud to know him, and that he should be proud of his two fine sons and his son-in-law.

"Now nothing is made by mistreating men like that poor waiter.  A real American would not do it.  Instead, he'd devote his attention to the men on soap boxes, no matter who they may be, that are preaching peace without victory or praying for the defeat of one of our brave allies."

The question of German immigration after the war coming up, Colonel Roosevelt expressed doubt as to how extensive it might be.

" I am not as sure as some persons seem to be that there will be any great migration of Germans to this country," he said.  "It will all depend, I suppose, on the condition Germany is left in by the war.  For one thing, I would not oppose such immigration, provided the immigrants were of the kind that come here prepared to work.  Most Germans, I have found, have some trade.  Very frequently they are highly skilled along special lines.  Such men should be welcomed.  The other kind should be barred."

Again, in Toledo, this time before we entered the war, and while the Colonel was talking politics, he found that there were many Germans in his audience.  As in every other place his talk was mainly preparedness, emphasized, I thought, because one of the committee expressed the hope that many Germans in it would not take offence at what he might say.

"My dear fellow," said he, "they will not take offence because I am going to talk straight Americanism to them.  They will not object to that.  Why, one of the most wonderful books of the war was written by a German in your town — at least he is of German blood.  It is called 'Their True Allegiance.' His name is Ohlinger.  I'll be obliged to you if you will have him located for me."

"Did you notice that I offended anybody in that audience?" he asked after the meeting.
I assured him I had not.

"I did not think you would," he replied, adding:

"Oh, for a little courage and plain horse sense in the handling of this whole German question! It would make things so much easier."