Roosevelt gave up. “Will there be a time in the near future, say this year, when you might tell us what the ultimatum contains?”
Hay smiled and allowed that he would. Then he summarized the lengthy document.
Germany needed colonies for what she viewed as the legitimate expansion of the Reich.
Germany was a major world power and the United States was not.
Germany was better suited to govern the hitherto Spanish colonies than the United States. The fact that the United States was talking of freedom soon for Cuba and somewhat later on for the Philippines was a betrayal of the white man’s prerogative to govern the nonwhite races, who were, of course, incapable of governing themselves.
Germany was angry that the United States did not see the logic behind this argument.
Germany ’s invasion was to show the United States the weakness of her position and the strength of the Imperial German military machine and, thereby, to put her in a better mood to negotiate the transfer of the requisite territories.
Germany would take from the United States the following: Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, the Hawaiian Islands, and Guam. From this time forward, Germany would be exempt from the Monroe Doctrine and would establish spheres of influence over the Isthmus of Panama and the republic of Venezuela, which, not coincidentally, owed Germany substantial sums of money and were in default. Of course, any prior arrangements regarding independence for either Cuba or the Philippines were cancelled.
Germany required that the U.S. Navy, upon completion of the hostilities, be reduced to a coastal defense force. Thus all battleships and cruisers were to be either scrapped or sold to Germany for a nominal amount. Germany was not particularly concerned about the size of any American army as, without a navy to transport it, the American army was of no consequence to Germany.
Germany would be paid the sum of one hundred million dollars in gold for the expenses incurred in the actions against the United States.
If Germany did not receive total acceptance of these terms by July 15, 1901, the amount of indemnity would rise by the amount of five million dollars per week.
For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then President McKinley looked up. “Is there any room for negotiation?”
Roosevelt jumped to his feet, his face a furious red. “Negotiate! What the hell is there to negotiate for? We’ve been attacked by a tyrant and a pirate. I say we raise the largest army this country’s ever seen and wipe Germany off the face of the earth.”
“How?” McKinley asked. “You seem to forget we have no army. No navy.”
Before an astonished Roosevelt could respond, Hay spoke. “Mr. President, there may indeed be room for negotiation. I have it on good authority that they really don’t want Cuba or the Philippines, but are dead set on getting Puerto Rico. Of course, that was before they attacked. God only knows what their real minimum demands will be now that blood has been spilled and their sense of greed inspired.”
“Damnit, sir, I say we wage war!” Roosevelt was consumed with rage.
Hay blinked at the anger and fury in Roosevelt ’s voice. As a diplomat he knew how important it was to maintain calmness and rationality in even the most trying of circumstances. Now it was even more important than ever. His country could not afford emotional responses that could be tragic mistakes. “Mr. Roosevelt, I suggest that we wait until today’s meeting with the military leaders to discuss feasible responses.”
“Yes,” said McKinley, rising to his feet. Both men noticed that the president held on to the back of a chair to steady himself. “This afternoon. We will discuss things then. I feel I must rest.” With that he turned and left the two astonished men alone in the cabinet room.
Wherever William McKinley walked, the waist-high grass and crop of young summer corn had been pounded down to nothing. Worse, the sun-baked Maryland field was covered with the dead and wounded from the tragic battle that had just taken place. Even though only a couple of hours had transpired since the guns mercifully ended, the dead were already blackened and bloating, some of them emitting noxious gases as their bodies rejected themselves.
Along with the dead, some of them lying as if asleep and others lying in bloody bits, there were a number of wounded. McKinley had to watch where he placed his feet lest he step on someone and cause even more pain. Or worse, have them reach out and cry for him to help them, which, of course, he could not do. “Mother, mother,” seemed to be the constant but weak chorus. He looked about for doctors, for stretcher bearers. Where were they? They were overwhelmed by the immensity of the day’s events, he realized, and they would be a long time coming, if ever, with their blood-drenched wagons. There was nothing to help them.
His ears took in a heavy buzzing, humming sound and he tried to place it. Then it dawned: flies. All about were flies. Flies by the hundreds, by the millions, by numbers uncountable, a living, moving cloud that hovered a few feet above the ground. They covered every corpse and every living wounded, and buzzed and munched their disgusting way to contentedness.
What horror, he thought as he gazed about. The entire field covered with bodies dressed largely in Union blue, but with a speckling of Confederate gray. Antietam, another name for horror.
“Now this, William, is a war. A real war!” Teddy Roosevelt stood in front of him, his wide-brimmed cowboy hat rakishly back on his head, his face a wide grin. “Not like what I saw against those Spanish pussycats!”
“Theodore, do you actually enjoy this?”
“Certainly, and so do you.”
McKinley was shocked. “No, I hate it,” he said vehemently.
Roosevelt laughed derisively. “Then why do you keep getting us involved in wars?”
“I didn’t start the Civil War.”
“Of course you did. You and millions like you from the North and South who wouldn’t see reason and the reality that the other side would fight. And you are certainly responsible for the Spanish war.”
Sadly, McKinley accepted the latter point. He had allowed himself to be manipulated by yellow journalists like Pulitzer and Hearst, and the other Manifest Destiny warmongers like Roosevelt, into accepting the dubious verdict that the explosion on theMaine was sabotage.
“William, don’t forget the Germans.”
“You blame me for that?”
“William, you are the president, the captain of the ship of state, and the invasion occurred on your watch. Of course you’re responsible.”
“But you’re the vice president!”
Roosevelt shrugged and stepped over an armless corpse. “People will forget. In normal times, the citizenry doesn’t even know, or care, who its vice president is. Besides, would you have listened to me?” McKinley agreed he would not have. “Oh, look,” Roosevelt said, “Spaniards.”
They had walked to a different portion of the field. Now it no longer looked like Maryland. The farm grass had been replaced by thicker and more luxuriant vegetation, more evocative of the Tropics. And these dead wore white and had sombreros and darker, Latin skins. But they were just as dead, just as maimed.
Then it dawned on him. He was dreaming. He laughed. A dream. Of course. Dreams were often terrible things and this certainly was one of the worst he’d had since he’d been a lad in Ohio.
“William, the Germans are coming.”
Despite himself, he started. “Where?” Then he saw the line of men clad in dark gray that was almost black. They wore funny helmets with spear points on the top and they were marching toward him rapidly.
“William, run! Hurry! Run!”
McKinley tried to turn but his legs wouldn’t respond. He knew the unreasoning panic of a nightmare when the evil cannot be avoided. The line of Germans was only yards away, and one man in particular had his bayoneted rifle pointed directly at him. He tried again to run but his legs were leaden and unresponsive. A dream, he thought, it is a dream! This creature, now upon him and grinning, cannot hurt. Despite this thought, he screamed and tried to thrash himself free. It’s a dream, he said, as the bayonet entered his chest. It cannot hurt me.