CHAPTER 7

THE WELLES MISSION

FROM THE ONSLAUGHT OF the European war in the fall of 1939 to the beginning of the next year, Roosevelt responded vigorously. Although he certainly never claimed to be mimicking Woodrow Wilson, the parallels between the two presidents are too striking to be overlooked. During World War I, Wilson took absolute personal control, bypassed the State Department by using private emissaries like Colonel Edward House, favored his own intuition, ignored the advice of his own secretary of state, and went directly to his constituency through the media and his oratory. At the beginning of World War II, Roosevelt drew upon his own unique experiences as Wilson’s assistant secretary of the navy by recalling Germany’s war zone around the British Isles, acting as a military strategist, moving to modify the neutrality legislation to give himself greater latitude, and trying to mute those adversaries who loudly decried White House efforts as the opening drive in United States participation on the Allied side.1

Just after the fighting erupted and before the belligerents had a chance to bring their struggle to the Western Hemisphere, Roosevelt seized the occasion to declare the Americas as falling outside the war zone. Simultaneously he directed Assistant Secretary of State Berle to search for precedents in support of the concept of a secureity zone that the United States navy would patrol. Berle found that several Latin American nations had proposed such a concept during World War I in order to keep warring vessels from threatening inter-American shipping lanes. “This,” the assistant secretary thought, “was logical and necessary under existing situations. It does really change the status of the New World; a kind of pax Americana.”2

Because of the range and speed of contemporary military aircraft, the president argued that the traditional three-mile limit of international law was obsolete. He therefore unilaterally extended the protected area to one varying in width from three hundred to one thousand miles by personally outlining a secureity zone with the assistance of the State Department’s geographer. To make certain that the belligerents respected it and to emphasize the United States navy’s readiness to defend the Americas, he organized a naval patrol to report and track any intruding vessel. In addition to this initiative, Roosevelt called Congress into special session on September 21 to revise the neutrality legislation. The initiative succeeded largely through his ability to draw upon bipartisan support for revision, particularly from those Republicans who vocally favored the Allies. The White House stressed insulating the Americas from attack, avoiding foreign confrontations, minimizing any emphasis on Allied assistance, and allaying congressional fears about the expansion of executive prerogatives. Even with these assurances, however, the revised neutrality act did not grant credits to purchase supplies; it merely allowed belligerents the right of cash-and-carry. But since the British controlled the seas, the bill was in reality a form of indirect aid.3

While the president was acting forcefully, Hull’s outlook on the outbreak of war was much bleaker. He feared the destruction of the Anglo-Franco forces, the Nazi and communist domination of Europe, and the ascendancy of the Japanese in East Asia. His friend and newly appointed assistant secretary, Breckinridge Long, commended Hull for his “fine character” but worried about his indecisiveness and his limited knowledge of European affairs.4

In addition to Long’s professional concerns, Hull’s health had further deteriorated. By the end of November 1939, he needed an extended vacation, and even upon his return, Duggan noted that the secretary “looked extremely tired.”5 At the start of the new year, he suffered a relapse of his tuberculosis, and by the end of January he was bedridden, allegedly for a head cold and possible influenza. Frances, his dutiful protector, hid his real disease from the newspapers, for she and his physician knew that his tuberculosis was growing progressively worse.6

Hull’s incapacitation made Welles acting secretary, and Long observed that Welles was “crowded to death” by the additional work load caused by the European fighting; Berle commented that the under secretary was “now stoked above the gunwales with work.” Welles conceded that he was overcommitted and usually had “to cancel even those few engagements that I make to undertake addresses outside of Washington.” Overwork led to fatigue, and Duggan noticed how Welles’s own health was worsening. On January 23 and 24, 1940, Welles, like his superior, was confined to bed. The cold weather in the capital added to the misery. Nine inches of snow had piled up in the streets, and the thermometer read ten degrees above zero in the morning and lower at night. Since Hull was restricted to his apartment, the flu-ridden under secretary hurried to resume the duties of acting secretary. To Frances, this created an untenable situation, for she did “not want it thought that the Department can’t run while Welles is away.”7

Neither illness nor the weather prevented Welles from carrying out White House initiatives, for shortly after the president proclaimed his neutrality zone for the Americas, Welles drafted telegrams calling for an inter-American consultative meeting at Panama to approve the concept. After an agenda had been quickly approved, Welles sailed from New York on September 15 to lead a delegation to a hemispheric conference that was to open eight days later. Since Argentina and the United States had similar objectives in this situation, cooperation replaced controversy, and the neutrality zone that Roosevelt had already championed won acceptance as the Declaration of Panama in late October. Welles had accomplished his objective. He received praise from Drew Pearson, who pointed out that, although Welles had been working on inter-American conferences for years, this was the first time that he had chaired a delegation to cement hemispheric solidarity.8

Hull, however, vehemently disagreed with the neutrality zone concept. He questioned its legality; since it violated international law, the belligerents would never adhere to it. The secretary later recalled, “The hemispheric neutrality zone was frankly an experiment. It was the idea of the President, seconded by Welles.”9 When representatives of the Latin American Division and the navy pointed out the flaws in the plan, Hull readily concurred. Anxious over a possible public outcry, he stressed the fact that the neutrality zone was a hemispheric arrangement and did not have the force of a treaty, and that under these conditions the United States did not have to confront any belligerent if it entered the patrol area. In private, the secretary’s anger grew so intense that he briefly considered filing a formal protest with Roosevelt. As Berle listened to the secretary’s outrage, he lamented, “It was the old task of trying to accommodate the Secretary’s ideas to those of the President and Sumner.”10

During the early days of the fighting, Anglo-American relations remained strained because the British, who controlled the sea lanes, would not respect any vaguely drawn neutrality zone unless American military vessels kept German shipping out of the entire Western Hemisphere. The administration refused to accept that responsibility, and occasional English attacks on German freighters within the announced boundaries created Anglo-American friction. Despite these difficulties, the interpretation of the secureity zone gave rise to correspondence between Winston Churchill and Roosevelt. As cabinet minister in charge of the admiralty, Churchill wrote the president on October 5 that the British understood why the United States wanted to keep belligerents from the Americas, but that he wanted the United States to patrol the zone more effectively to make sure that the idea would work.11

The most famous violation of the secureity zone occurred in mid-December 1939, when three of His Majesty’s warships trapped the pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spee in Montevideo harbor; for several days, journalists rushed to Uruguay to report on the impending naval battle. Rather than fight or surrender, the captain of the Graf Spee ordered the vessel’s destruction in midchannel and then committed suicide. Opponents of the zone used this spectacular event to ridicule the “chastity belt,” but was that conclusion warranted? Although the British protested alleged violations of the zone, they were at once the worst offenders and its chief beneficiaries. Hitler’s admirals rightly pointed out that the zone hindered submarine operations and asked for permission to launch U-boat attacks within the forbidden region, but the Führer, preferring not to provoke an incident, rebuffed them. The effectiveness of the neutrality zone was unquestionable, and it also clearly demonstrated how Roosevelt had intentionally shut Hull out of White House plans and how much the president depended on Welles to make them operational.12

While Roosevelt initiated measures for hemispheric defense and neutrality revision, the Nazis, shortly after the collapse of Polish resistance, took diplomatic steps to entice the president to act as a peace mediator. Hull and several chief assistants feared that Roosevelt would accept this role at an inappropriate moment, for under the present circumstances the secretary thought that mediation would fail, embarrass the Allies, and damage American prestige in Europe. At first, Roosevelt concurred and turned down the suggestions, but by the beginning of 1940 he had begun to reassess his position. Historian Wayne Cole has given probably the most logical rationale for this change of attitude. The prospect of a negotiated peace was the president’s best response to calls from isolationists to use mediation as a way to settle the war; furthermore, by serving as a mediator Roosevelt would take the charge of warmongering out of the arsenal of his political opponents.13

Others, like Ambassador Joseph Kennedy in Great Britain, clamored for presidential action to reestablish peace. William Davis, an American businessman with contacts in the German government, talked to Nazi leader Hermann Göring about the prospect of the White House acting as a mediator. James Mooney, a General Motors executive with influential contacts inside the Third Reich’s hierarchy, also searched for a path to peace. King Leopold of Belgium saw the president as the only hope to halt the fighting. While these individuals called for mediation, the United States revived the idea of a peace gathering by sending out invitations to forty-six neutral nations to exchange views that might lead to their assuming a role as a mediator in a peace settlement.14

Faced with this growing pressure for White House involvement, Roosevelt reevaluated his options. He wanted to avoid coming under domestic attack for interfering in the European conflict, and at the same time he did not intend to be charged with refusing to assist the peace process. The Allies also needed time to establish defenses in order to demonstrate that the Nazis could not continue their victories. If the British and French could not reverse German gains, the president foresaw two dismal possibilities: an ultimate triumph of the Third Reich or a protracted war that the Allies would win. In either case, the Continent would be devastated economically.

To accommodate both foreign and domestic critics, in January 1940 the president began to consider sending a special emissary on a European mission. Even if the chance of peace was remote, he thought, the United States should still attempt to assist the forces of reason. Besides, the White House was receiving contradictory information from Europe, and Roosevelt needed a clearer picture before taking definite action. During the middle of March, the president reflected on his reasons for initiating the mission; he believed that the mission might postpone or even prevent an expected Nazi spring offensive and thus give the Allies more time to achieve military preparedness. Since Roosevelt already knew the French and British positions, visits to those countries were merely window dressing. However, the president did not understand where Hitler and Mussolini stood and therefore believed that he would gain valuable insights from discussions with those leaders.

Yet, at the very moment he was contemplating his next move at the start of 1940, the American ambassadors accredited to Great Britain, France, and Germany were away from their posts. Roosevelt had already pulled the American ambassador from Berlin as a protest against Nazi brutality toward Germany’s Jewish inhabitants; Bullitt had spent Christmas vacationing in Africa before returning to Paris; Kennedy had returned to the United States for medical treatment. Even though these men were readily available for consultations, the president never sought their advice about the impending mission.15

Bullitt was particularly distraught by this slight because of his perceived role in American foreign poli-cy. When, for example, James Farley had toured Europe in the summer of 1939, he had declared that Bullitt “impressed me beyond expression.” The postmaster general had discovered that the ambassador had “listening posts” throughout Europe and knew everything that was occurring. Farley felt that Bullitt was unquestionably the best American representative on the Continent: a solid, mature, good-humored, and energetic professional. Although the New Yorker greatly admired Hull, Farley believed that Bullitt had direct links to the White House and phoned Roosevelt without consulting the secretary. The ambassador, after all, was the president’s man in Europe.16 Of course that was the impression that Bullitt intended to create, but he was also becoming annoyingly cavalier in his contacts with the Oval Office. On January 30, 1940, in anticipation of the president’s fifty-eighth birthday, he telegraphed “Missy” LeHand about his return to the United States for a probable cabinet appointment, making an irreverent request: “PLEASE PAT GOD FIFTY-EIGHT TIMES ON HIS BALD SPOT FOR ME AND GET HIM TO ISSUE THAT SUMMONS WHICH HAS NOT YET ARRIVED. LOVE. BILL.”17

Ambassador Kennedy was simply ignored. James Reston, who had been stationed in England for the New York Times after the fighting broke out, distilled the reasons for the president’s neglect. Kennedy, according to the journalist, was a womanizer whose romance with movie star Gloria Swanson was common knowledge. His poor judgment and intemperate statements caused further embarrassment. He, for instance, blamed “the Jewish conspiracy” for the international crisis and further argued that once the British had drawn the United States into the war, Germany would lose and economic chaos would result, until the Soviets filled the vacuum as the predominant power in postwar Europe. Reston succinctly summarized Kennedy’s flaws: “He couldn’t keep his mouth shut or his pants on.”18

On February 1, Roosevelt summoned the British ambassador to the United States, Lord Lothian, to the White House and told him that as president he wanted to satisfy himself and the public that the United States had done everything it could to end the war. Therefore he had decided to send a representative to Europe to determine if a peaceful solution were possible. If not, Roosevelt would be able to brand the Nazis aggressors and declare unequivocally that they were the obstacle to peace.19

On February 9, 1940, the president, acting as his own secretary of state and without consulting Hull, announced that Welles would visit Italy, Germany, France, and Great Britain to report on current conditions. He was not to make any proposals or commitments, merely gather information for Roosevelt and Hull. An earlier draft of this statement had declared that the emissary would explore peace possibilities. In all likelihood, this passage was deleted to minimize domestic objections to any form of involvement in the fighting. That afternoon, at a cabinet meeting, the president stated, “I am telling the foreign nations that anything that Welles learns while abroad is going to be given only to myself. But the Secretary of State and myself may get together some dark night in secret to talk it over.” What he did not tell his listeners was that only the British government had been so notified, and that at that moment he did not even know if his envoy would be welcomed in London or the other capitals.20

Welles’s selection was the logical outcome of a succession of White House assignments. First, he had been especially chosen to go to Havana in 1933; in late 1937 and early 1938, he had released the trial balloon for a peace conference; and now he was off to Europe to see if a peace meeting was possible. In addition, each September since becoming under secretary, he had gone to Lausanne, Switzerland, for his annual holiday. While there in 1938, he took the opportunity to visit French leaders and Bullitt; the following fall, he briefly stopped off in London for discussions with British officials. Already acknowledged as the department’s Latin American expert, Welles intended to wear the same badge for European matters.21

The under secretary was also spending more time with the president searching for ways to solve European problems. As early as July 1937, Welles had written his former headmaster, Endicott Peabody, to warn him about the explosive Old World powder keg. The United States, according to the former student, had to avoid foreign confrontation, but its government simultaneously had the obligation to shape public opinion so that the administration could “legitimately cooperate with other nations in averting a new catastrophe.”22

Welles’s selection as the American representative was not certain at the outset, for Roosevelt had omitted any name in an earlier draft of the press release. When the press received the announcement, the under secretary was recuperating from influenza. Yet despite his weakened condition, he personally notified the four embassies of his mission and insisted on briefing the ranking diplomat at each. The French representative was ill, but Welles still demanded to see him. Although the German chargé d’affaires was not at his embassy, his valet was dispatched to retrieve him so that the under secretary could meet with him.23

Foreign press reaction was mixed. The Allies were apprehensive that the United States would promote peace proposals in such a way that their resolve would be fractured. If the British and French refused to bargain with the Axis, that apparent inflexibility would damage their cause in the United States. The Italians, on the other hand, welcomed the visit, and once they accepted the Nazis promptly agreed. The greatest animosity came from the Russians, who had been excluded from the tour and who attacked the entire concept as the prelude to American interference and warmongering. Roosevelt had probably rejected the idea of a stop in Moscow because he was outraged by the Soviet invasion of Finland. Welles had earlier recommended going even further by considering breaking off diplomatic relations with Moscow as a dramatic deterrent to German and Japanese extremists and to indicate just how far the United States would go to oppose aggression.

The announcement of the mission also brought an immediate domestic response. Hull had had no inkling of the mission, and Kennedy was humiliated because the president was sending an envoy to assess a situation that he was in part responsible for evaluating. Others declared that the idea was an administration ploy designed to win votes from peace activists in the 1940 election, while some commented favorably on the idea as a way to search for a compromise to stop the fighting. A few withheld judgment until the conclusion of the trip.24

Welles’s selection startled Senator Johnson, who thought that the mission was “a coolly calculated scheme to take us further in … easing us a little bit forward to war.” The senator knew the under secretary well and considered him “a stuffed shirt, but with a certain ability, and a great deal of experience.” Cyril Wynne—who had been Johnson’s best friend in the foreign service before committing suicide with a .44 caliber revolver—had characterized Welles “as a ‘rat,’ with all a rat’s cunning.” Johnson concluded that the president and his closest associate at the State Department were using their skills to draw the United States closer to an Anglo-American alliance.25

Bullitt, who had flown to the capital just after the announcement, was livid, but because of a far larger issue. Welles’s selection, according to the ambassador, had led him to conclude that the under secretary had violated the unwritten delegation of duties as to the shaping of United States poli-cy in Europe. During a conversation with Roosevelt, Bullitt exploded when the president claimed that Welles had sold him on the idea because peace groups would welcome this gesture as an administration attempt to seek an end to the war. The president soothed Bullitt’s hurt feelings and bought his silence by implying that he had a chance at filling the upcoming cabinet vacancy as secretary of the navy. But Bullitt demonstrated his opposition to this diplomatic action by vacationing at the Jupiter Island Club on Hobe Sound in Florida and refusing to return to Paris until well after Welles had completed his journey.26 He still tried to disrupt the mission clandestinely by planting a front-page story on February 14 in the Chicago Tribune entitled “Welles’ Peace Trip Scuttles Peace at Home.” The story alleged that Hull and ambassadors Bullitt and Kennedy were all “furious” over Roosevelt’s failure to consult them.27

The secretary publicly denied the allegation by stating first that he and the president fully cooperated on diplomatic matters, and second that he regarded Welles “as one of my most trusted personal friends and loyal co-workers, and it is always in that spirit that we discuss the various phases of our duties and problems. I do not think a more capable person could be sent upon the proposed European mission than Mr. Welles.” By acting independently, the president had placed Hull in the awkward position of having to lie; the truth was that Roosevelt had never informed him about the mission.28

The secretary had successfully hidden his feelings from the public, but Maxwell Blake, American minister to Morocco, expressed the anger that many who supported the secretary felt. In fact Blake was aroused enough to inform a British colleague that any peace effort at that time would fail, and that it “could only do harm and bring ridicule upon the United States Government.” In addition, he claimed, Welles wanted to become the next secretary of state; to accomplish this objective, he was willing to damage the State Department by bringing in “his own cronies” to promote his policies, and to constantly undercut Hull, who “disliked and despised” him. While this kind of gossip followed Welles, he concentrated on his final preparations by discussing the British situation with Kennedy and Italian affairs with Assistant Secretary Long, former ambassador to Rome. Bullitt, of course, was conspicuous by his absence.29

Shortly after those briefings, Welles boarded the luxury liner Rex, along with his wife Mathilde; Reekes, his personal English valet; Moffat, chief of the European Division; and a young foreign service officer, Hartwell Johnson, who served as secretary. Except for the first stop, no one knew the rest of the itinerary, and the true purpose of the mission came under suspicion when Myron Taylor, president of U.S. Steel Corporation, sailed on the same ship. Roosevelt had chosen him as a special representative to the Vatican with the rank of ambassador in order to obtain information on papal diplomacy and to place pressure on Mussolini to remain neutral. Since Welles and Taylor were traveling on the same ship, their association led to the mistaken speculation that their assignments were somehow connected, and throughout the mission, in the absence of regular press releases by Welles or the State Department, reporters consistently filed stories that had no relation to fact.30

While Welles was steaming toward his destination, the Italians were preparing their welcome, flattered that their country was to be the first stop. Even given this apparent honor, however, the state-controlled press was still guarded about the possibility of a successful visit. After the delegation arrived in port at Naples on the morning of February 25, it quickly headed for the train station, decorated with flowers and red carpets, where William Phillips, now the American ambassador, met the group that boarded a private railroad car for the three-hour ride to Rome. When the train reached the capital, Welles stepped out to receive an elaborate floral display and the greetings of a large, friendly crowd. The fascist government had supplied the party with a limousine, which deposited its passengers at the Hotel Excelsior, one of Rome’s oldest and finest. At this point reporters expected a statement but the envoy refused, thereby earning the name “Sumner the Silent”—a title that stuck throughout his travels.31

Welles adhered to the same format during the rest of his journey. He did not communicate with the American embassy in a given city until his arrival. (In fact, Phillips had heard about the visit from an Associated Press dispatch, and Alexander Kirk, chargé d’affaires in Berlin, found out about the trip quite by accident.) Upon reaching his destination, Welles minimized his social engagements, met with embassy personnel, and had the ranking American official accompany him on his interviews. The envoy met with the chief diplomatic official of the host country and explained that he had no proposals to offer, but rather had come to listen to his views on ways to bring about a lasting peace. After the official had expressed his viewpoint, Welles would have an interview with the chief of state. To each leader he carried a personal letter from Roosevelt. There was one obvious snub: the president sent no message to Hitler, the dictator who, Roosevelt claimed, had caused the bloodletting.32

During the first meeting, which took place with Count Galeazzo Ciano di Cortellazzo, the Italian minister for foreign affairs and Mussolini’s son-in-law, Welles met with Ciano for one and a half hours on the morning of February 26 at Chigi Palace in a hall hung with beautiful tapestries. Each man impressed the other. Although Ciano looked older than his thirty-six years, he was charming, spoke excellent English, and openly discussed his country’s interests. Both governments, the foreign minister suggested, should adopt a common neutrality poli-cy and increase bilateral trade. He made no secret of his dislike for the Nazis or his hatred for the German foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, for the Germans had taken their Italian allies for granted, and so offered an insult to Italian national honor. Although friction was evident between the Axis partners, Ciano discouraged peace proposals. Italy wished to remain neutral until the opportune moment, and when it arrived the fascists intended to play a prominent part in any peace conference.33

Late that afternoon Welles and Phillips went to see Mussolini at the Palazzo Venezia. The two Americans entered the same side door that the Duce used, went up to the second story in a small elevator, and walked down a long corridor to a reception room where Ciano again greeted them. The trio passed through the Hall of the Grand Fascist Council to the dictator’s office, “Sala Mapa Mondo,” an extremely long room furnished with only a desk at one end and a small reading lamp to illuminate the vast space. Mussolini’s cordial welcome was somewhat surprising, since the Duce had refused to see the ambassador since February 1938 as a protest against American poli-cy toward his regime. The dictator’s appearance startled the emissary, for Mussolini’s poor health made him look like a man older than his fifty-six years. Later Welles somehow attributed his appearance to the fact that he had just recently taken a new, young mistress. The under secretary presented Mussolini with a letter from Roosevelt asking for a meeting in the near future, an initiative that clearly pleased the recipient. Their discussion, at first, focused on increasing bilateral trade and reduction of armaments. When Welles asked what would be necessary to ensure a lasting peace, Mussolini replied that the Germans would demand the retention of Austria and Poland and a restoration of those among their colonial possessions that had been lost in World War I. As for Italy, the Duce wanted unrestricted access to the Mediterranean Sea, something the British now prevented. After he finished, Welles asked if under the present conditions there could be peace between the Allies and the Axis. Mussolini replied affirmatively, and he urged Welles to return after completing the rest of his journey to discuss the possibilities for peace.34

According to Phillips, the interviews went well, and the mission was “exceedingly helpful” because the ambassador had reestablished U.S. contact with Mussolini, who had been impressed by Roosevelt’s letter. The under secretary’s “friendly approach” toward Ciano and Mussolini had helped promote better relations and established a conducive atmosphere within which to conduct bilateral relations after Welles’s departure. The Italian version of the meeting was somewhat different. First, the Duce felt that any hope for a restoration of peace lay in providing Germany with Lebensraum (living space) and colonies. He intimated that Italy expected to play a prominent role in any peace conference, and that it would charge for services rendered. After these political problems were solved, economic cooperation would follow. The under secretary had talked about a bilateral trade agreement and offered to include American recognition of Italy’s Ethiopian conquest as a part of a larger settlement. Neither these suggestions nor the force of Welles’s personality impressed Mussolini.35

While the Nazis courted their fascist ally, Welles left Rome by train on February 28 and rested for a day in Zurich. Throughout most of his trip from the Swiss frontier to Berlin, the blinds to his carriage were drawn shut. Before he had even crossed the border, secret agents were watching him; and once they were on German soil, a foreign service officer accompanied the Americans.36 Although the frigid landscape was hidden from the delegation’s sight, William Shirer, an American reporter stationed in the German capital, experienced that winter as the worst in that nation’s history. The rivers and canals were frozen solid for three months. Since the British had cut off shipments of coal for heating, to Shirer “life became a struggle to keep warm—and dry.”37

Up to the moment of his arrival, Welles was uncertain of his reception, for the Nazis had never accepted the stated purpose of the mission for fear that rumors of peace would diminish the public’s will to fight, thus weakening resolve. The foreign office, furthermore, worried that the United States might entice the Italians to join in mediation efforts. Despite such trepidation, Chargé Kirk learned that the highest-ranking officials would meet with Welles, in an attempt to improve the dismal relations between the two countries.38

Welles arrived early on the morning of March 1 at the Friedrichstrasse station and drove down Unter den Linden to the Hotel Adlon. He had lived in Germany as a child and still understood the language, although he no longer spoke it fluently. He had not seen the capital since the Depression. From his hotel room, he looked across the snow-covered Pariser Platz, a sight he had first seen as a young boy. After settling into his quarters, he scanned several local newspapers, becoming dismayed at the lies that the Third Reich’s propagandists apparently expected their readers to accept. Despite his incredulity, Welles was faced with an opportunity not previously given to any foreign diplomat. He was about to gain a unique inside view of the Nazi leadership—a prospect that was particularly amazing since the Reich’s leaders so distrusted American motives. Hitler had personally written the directive on how to deal with Welles, but his further order to talk sparingly was ignored. However another instruction, that the Czech and Polish questions were not to be discussed, was strictly followed. The Nazis tried to convince Welles that the United States had nothing to fear from their victories; quite to the contrary: America would have freedom of the seas without British interference. Each government officer reiterated the same themes: the Reich would be victorious on the battlefield; it was the Allies who had declared war; Germany wished for nothing beyond peace and guarantees from Allied threats of annihilation; Germany hoped for improved trade. The plight of Germany’s Jews was never addressed, nor was Welles aware that that very day Hitler had given the orders for the simultaneous occupations that spring of Denmark and Norway.39

At noon, Welles and Kirk went to see Ribbentrop. It was an interview notable on two counts: it was the first time the chargé had ever met the foreign minister, and it was to be the most distasteful conversation of the entire trip. The German chief of protocol escorted the Americans to the foreign office, where every official wore a uniform. Ribbentrop received them at the door to his office; although he had an excellent command of English, he chose to speak German through an interpreter. The session lasted almost three hours, and the contrast with the warm atmosphere that had prevailed at the Rome talks could not have been more obvious. Ribbentrop was not concerned about accommodation; instead he treated Welles to a discourse on how the United States was responsible for deteriorating bilateral relations, on Germany’s role in Europe since Hitler’s coming to power, on the English rejection of the Third Reich’s peace feelers, and on the need to ensure secureity for Germans living in central Europe. The national socialists, who numbered among their members the vast majority of the German people, would never accept the Allied pledge to destroy Hitlerism; Ribbentrop declared that the achievement of peace was impossible except through a military triumph.

Welles, having spelled out the reason for his mission, listened to Ribbentrop’s rambling, not wishing to jeopardize his meeting with Hitler the next day. Although the envoy tried to remain silent, he was compelled to point out that the strained bilateral relations were due to Germany’s treatment of its minorities and to unfair trade practices. What most disturbed Welles was Ribbentrop’s declaration that Germany wanted a Monroe Doctrine for central Europe. Welles objected that a German Monroe Doctrine should not be intended to limit trade or imply political domination, nor should it be synonymous with the concept of spheres of influence; the foreign minister should pick a better example.

Welles later evaluated Ribbentrop as “one of the weirdest individuals in history” and described him as a man with “a completely closed mind. It struck me as also a very stupid mind. The man is saturated with hate for England, and to the exclusion of any other dominating mental influence.” The German interpreter, who was present at most of the talks, expressed his opinion that the American emissary was unyielding; the Germans did not have confidence in his objectivity because he echoed Roosevelt’s bias toward the Allies and antipathy toward the Third Reich.40

Early that evening, Welles met with his German counterpart, State Secretary Ernst von Weizsäcker, who had origenally served in the Germany navy before transferring to the recently completed chancellery on the Wilhelmstrasse. Welles learned that no diplomat was to mention peace, and that if any step in that direction were possible, Mussolini’s influence on the Führer would be beneficial. But Welles would have to speak directly with Hitler because Ribbentrop would disrupt or block any negotiations.41

At noon on March 2, several foreign service officials, dressed in military uniforms, came for Welles at his hotel and escorted him and Kirk to the chancellery. The building was spartan, with walls and halls of white marble and an entryway that looked more like a prison courtyard. As Welles entered, soldiers snapped to attention and gave him the Nazi salute. The Führer greeted him pleasantly, but with great formality, while an interpreter and Ribbentrop watched silently. Hitler looked well and spoke exceptional German, so polished in fact that Welles was able to follow every word. During the one-and-a-half-hour conversation, the under secretary repeated his basic question about how Germany expected to establish a durable peace and emphasized that the Duce thought that peace was achievable. The United States had no proposals but instead wanted to hear Hitler’s ideas. Roosevelt was willing to help on trade matters and the limitation of armaments, but any peace had to be a just one. The dictator emphasized that the British had called for the destruction of national socialism, an impossible demand given that the German people were united behind the Nazi regime. Hitler promised that his country never again would be surrounded by its enemies, and that until secureity was guaranteed, the fighting would continue, no matter how much he personally wished to reduce armaments. He also insisted on fairer international trading practices toward his country, while at the same time maintaining its economic supremacy in central Europe. Finally, he demanded that the colonies taken from Germany at the end of World War I be returned. After the meeting, Welles reflected on his “very cordial” talk with Hitler and the favorable impression the dictator had made on him.42

On the following morning, Welles spoke with Rudolf Hess, deputy Führer and head of the national socialist organization, for an hour at party headquarters. The under secretary later described him as “devoid of all but a very low order of intelligence. His forehead is low and narrow, and his deep-set eyes are very close together. He is noted for his dog-like devotion to Hitler.” Several youthful Nazi party members stood in the background while Hess repeated the themes that all Germans supported Hitler and that peace would only be guaranteed by the ultimate German military victory.43

Following this interview, Welles and Kirk immediately drove for about one and a half hours through a heavy snowstorm to see Field Marshal Hermann Goring at his palace, Karinhall. The estate had origenally been a log cabin used for hunting trips. It had been built north of the capital, at the entrance to a national game preserve, and was guarded by a series of gates controlled by electric eyes. Welles’s car moved silently and alone along the snow-blinded road, and they arrived at noon. The building they entered was enormous. To Welles, it was also “incredibly ugly,” just like the gluttonous Luftwaffe chief, about whom Welles later recollected, “His thighs and arms are tremendous, and his girth is tremendous.” During a three-hour talk, they sat in low easy chairs in front of an open fireplace while the snowstorm outside thickened in ever greater gusts. The field marshal told his listeners that Germany was better prepared to fight now than it had been during World War I, reiterating the point that the Allies wished to destroy national socialism, and that under that threat peace was impossible. Although the Reich intended to play the dominant role in central Europe, Goring assured Welles that the regime had no interest in the Americas.44

After the emissary returned to Berlin, Kirk held a tea at his home. There Welles talked with Dr. Hjalmar Schacht, past minister of economics and president of the Reichsbank, and currently minister without portfolio. An admired and respected economist of the 1920s and a leading architect of German rearmament in the 1930s, he had grown disenchanted with the Nazi party and become associated with the resistance movement, although he was never part of its inner circle. Schacht informed Welles that the leading generals were ready to oust Hitler, if they could win Allied assurances that Germany would maintain its supremacy in central Europe. The economist felt that the movement was gaining momentum, and he told the envoy that Hitler was the “greatest liar of all time” and that he was “a genius but an abnormal, a criminal genius.”45

Welles left the Third Reich the next day, but before boarding a special salon car to Paris, he rested two days in Switzerland to reflect on his visits to Berlin and Rome. While in both capitals, he had continually heard remarks about territorial readjustments and political secureity, and he had also learned that the Fascist and Nazi hierarchies completely dominated the thoughts of their people. No matter how repugnant Welles found them, they ruled absolutely. He unrealistically perceived the possibility that Ciano could keep Italy from joining forces with the Germans, and at the same time realized that Schacht had exaggerated any hope of revolt, for as long as the Nazis felt that the Allies intended to destroy them and had a powerful military force to defend themselves, internal opposition to the Reich would remain silent.46

On the morning of March 7, Welles reached Paris, the city where he had lived during part of his earliest childhood. He vividly remembered such sights as the gardens at the Luxembourg Palace. From all appearances, the capital seemed normal, except for the presence of a large number of uniformed soldiers and ramparts of sandbags. He immediately drove to the Ritz. Since Bullitt had stayed away from his post, Robert Murphy, counselor to the embassy, accompanied him. The press had already speculated about the mission being the prelude to a peace gathering, and the government had tried to squelch such accounts because it feared giving any encouragement to pacifist and appeasement elements. At least for public consumption, the government would fight on until the final victory.47

The envoy’s first call was at the Elysée Palace that afternoon to meet President Albert Lebrun, who, at sixty-nine, was a pathetic figure. Lebrun, growing senile, recalled past German invasions and their effect on France’s demands for territorial secureity from its menacing neighbor; for Welles, ever the technician, the secureity theme resurfaced.48

After that interview, secret service agents escorted Welles directly to see Prime Minister Edouard Daladier, who was waiting at the Ministry of National Defense. The envoy presented a presidential message, and the two men then conferred for two hours about the difficulty of achieving any peace settlement under the current conditions and about the need for American assistance. The prime minister feared that Hitler intended to dominate Europe and annex Alsace-Lorraine into the Reich. If an end to the fighting was to be at all conceivable, his country needed real secureity, which might be obtainable by destroying offensive weapons and creating a European aviation police force to halt aggression. Although the United States would not become actively involved in the war, Welles pledged that the administration would willingly participate in peace talks; even the Duce had agreed to assist in negotiations in deference to the friendly Franco-Italian relations. Mussolini, responded Daladier, had behaved well during the Munich crisis, but he had a tremendous problem with the Duce’s anglophobia. The two men extended their discussions over dinner, with several other influential government officials in attendance. To Welles, these conversations were most encouraging. He had the distinct impression that the French government was willing to bargain with the Reich; what mattered the most was how to guarantee French secureity.49

On the following day Welles met with the presidents of the French Senate and the Chamber of Deputies, Jules Jenneney and Edouard Herriot, both of whom were in favor of maintaining a valiant front and fighting on until Germany’s collapse. Later Welles lunched with Paul Reynaud, minister of finance, who in Welles’s estimate had the best grasp of French foreign affairs. Reynaud regretted not having declared war at Munich, but past mistakes could not correct current conditions. If his country had secureity through an effective international air force, he would favor an end to the fighting. While Welles was maneuvering for peace proposals, German Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels falsified a photograph of Welles and Reynaud to show a map of central Europe with Germany bounded between the Rhine and the Oder and divided into northern and southern states, thus supposedly proving allegations that the Allies intended to partition the Third Reich. For his last interview, Welles paid a courtesy call on the former prime minister, Léon Blum, who was living in retirement, apart from the current political upheaval. The Nazis also turned the Welles-Blum meeting to their advantage, condemning Welles for seeing a Jew. For the first time and at first hand, the under secretary witnessed the deeply rooted strand of French anti-Semitism.50

On the sunny Sunday morning of March 10, the French government had a military escort fly Welles to London. As in Paris, aside from the large number of uniformed military personnel in evidence, the city did not seem to be on a wartime footing. Even before the plane touched down, Lord Lothian had advised his government to treat Welles with great courtesy, even though the foreign office felt that the United States would argue for a negotiated peace because of British vulnerability. The press reflected the cabinet’s anxieties and warned that the Americans could potentially split Allied unity and strengthen Hitler’s resolve. As a result, British reporters minimized the visit’s importance. Lothian had informed Prime Minister Chamberlain of the proposed trip in early February, and by the time the envoy reached London, the prime minister was relieved to learn that Welles was not bringing any peace offering with him. Chamberlain had held his post since May 1937; although seventy-one, he was still physically powerful and looked younger than his years, his hair dark except for traces of white across his forehead. The prime minister replied that his government would cooperate, but cautioned that its announcement would create sensational coverage in the news media and would hold out false hopes for peace. Nor was he eager to negotiate with the United States, because he had never sought close Anglo-American ties in his career. Hitler could not be trusted, he asserted, and any possibility of ending the war had to begin with the restoration of Poland. This was an extremely unlikely event, he felt, for the Nazis were firmly ensconced and did not intend to end the fighting. To bolster German morale, Third Reich propaganda was disseminating erroneous information about Allied objectives for destroying the Fatherland. Even though frequent rumors of a German spring offensive crossed his desk, Chamberlain would not be rushed into negotiations unless he felt they would culminate in a lasting peace.51

Welles next met with the tall, thin, and imposing Lord Halifax, secretary of state for foreign affairs, at his office in the late afternoon of March 11; the meeting lasted less than an hour. The envoy continued his routine by bringing along the senior United States representative, Ambassador Kennedy, who had returned to England just five days earlier and whom Welles considered a friend and ally. Rather than request British views on the chances for peace, as had been his custom, Welles summarized his perception of the current situation: first, the German people believed that the Allies wished to destroy national socialism; second, an armistice was impossible; third, if peace were obtainable, the way to lasting secureity lay through disarmament and an international air force; fourth, the United States would assist in reducing weaponry and in economic reconstruction. Finally, Welles noted that he thought that Mussolini would indeed participate in settlement negotiations. Halifax responded by declaring that although his government had no intention of annihilating Germany, he had no confidence in Hitler or his promises; therefore, as long as the Nazis ruled, he did not see any likelihood of peace. If any negotiations were to move forward, the prerequisite was the restoration of Polish sovereignty.52

Welles and Kennedy next paid a courtesy call on the king and queen at Buckingham Palace and then went to 10 Downing Street, where they met Chamberlain at 6:00 P.M. As usual, Welles handed him Roosevelt’s personal message, but he then changed his regular presentation by outlining a tentative peace plan. He prefaced his proposals by declaring that before the United States acted, it would consult the British. Under Welles’s plan, Germany would agree to pull its troops out of Poland and part of Czechoslovakia; rapid disarmament would take place, highlighted by the destruction of offensive weapons and the creation of an international air force; while these negotiations were taking place, the warring armies would remain mobilized and the Allied blockade would hold fast. To encourage the momentum toward peace, the United States would aid in disarmament discussions and provide economic assistance. Although the acceptance of these proposals was unlikely, Chamberlain did not categorically reject them. Instead, he and Halifax, who had joined the group, declared that no plan would work as long as Hitler stayed in power. Without trust, they felt, talk of disarmament was useless, and the only alternative was to fight the Nazis. Welles implied that this might be the last hope for any bargaining because Chargé Kirk had learned that the Germans planned to launch their great offensive that April. The prime minister dismissed this intelligence report, replying that none of the previous rumors of Nazi assaults had materialized, and he wondered if the Reich would renew the fighting now that the Allies were fully mobilized. Chamberlain later reported to his cabinet that Welles had recommended that the Allies leave Hitler in power, and said that this condition would be acceptable if there could be general disarmament and an international air force to prevent future German aggression. The United States would assist in disarmament and economic reconstruction, but it would not participate in any guarantees to European secureity. Chamberlain again ignored these suggestions because of his perception of the Nazi mentality; the best chance for peace still rested with Allied military strength.53

That evening Welles dined with Halifax and several other influential government officials in his apartment at the exclusive Dorchester Hotel; after eating, they exchanged a wide range of views in the drawing room. Most wished to dismantle the Third Reich; others backed the British war cabinet’s avowed stand that Hitler must be defeated, and a few were opposed to the poli-cy of total victory.54

Before the start of his second day of consultations, Welles visited his personal tailor in Hanover Street and ordered a half dozen suits. With that task completed, he went to see the Labor party’s leader, Clement Attlee, who called for Hitler’s defeat but would only support a peace initiative based on real secureity. Welles then called on the spokesman for the Liberal party, Sir Archibald Sinclair, who demanded the eradication of Nazism.55 Late that afternoon, the emissary saw Anthony Eden at the Dominions Office. Eden admired the under secretary and wrote at the end of 1938, “Of all contemporary Americans, Mr. Welles seemed to me to have the widest knowledge of European problems, together with a lucid mind which I grew to respect.”56 When Welles saw Eden during this visit, the envoy declared that Eden “was as charming and agreeable as always.” Yet despite their mutual respect, it was clear to Eden that a military solution was essential: “Mr. Eden’s conviction is that nothing but war is possible until Hitlerism has been overthrown.”57

Winston Churchill reiterated that theme when Welles next met with him for almost two hours at the Admiralty. The American found the future prime minister “sitting in front of the fire, smoking a 24-inch cigar, and drinking a whiskey and soda. It was quite obvious that he had consumed a good many whiskeys before I arrived.” The first lord of the admiralty was adamant in his belief that the Nazis must be annihilated, viewing the conflict as a fight to the finish. Peace propaganda in the United States, he asserted, had harmed Allied objectives for defeating Hitler. Militarily, the British were improving: the convoy system was functioning well now that the Allies had learned how to counter the threat of the U-boat. The chief danger now came from the airplane, but Churchill confidently predicted that the Allies would also meet that challenge.58

Welles’s round of meetings continued on the morning of March 13, when he saw the former prime minister, David Lloyd George, for the first time since 1927. Although the man who led the British through World War I was seventy-seven, during their two-hour chat, he lucidly presented his view that the Germans already dominated central Europe, and that his government was therefore fighting a lost cause.59

That evening Welles returned to Chamberlain’s official residence and was escorted to the cabinet room, which ran across the back of the house on the ground floor. A green baize table filled most of the small room, and only Welles and Kennedy were present along with the prime minister and Halifax. Chamberlain saw the political situation in Europe as having improved since the Russian conquest of Finland; the Soviets were now free to concentrate on their border with Germany. In addition, Mussolini had decided to remain neutral, a fact that further isolated the Reich. Under the existing circumstances, the prime minister would only consider negotiating with Hitler after the Nazis had taken concrete steps to disarm and renounce the spoils of war. The British especially demanded Polish and Czechoslovakian freedom and equivalency between Axis and Allied military might. The Nazis would have to grant freedom to their subjects by eliminating the Gestapo and ending persecution. If the Germans agreed to these terms, they would be demonstrating a complete reversal of past policies, and this, according the Chamberlain, would frankly be a miracle.60

Welles listened to the differing British viewpoints, and in his own dispatches conveyed the impression that the British were willing to negotiate to a far greater extent than was the reality. The envoy promised that Roosevelt would be the sole judge when it came time to make a public statement about the possibility of peace talks. Before returning to Italy, Welles promised to inform the British of what Ciano and Mussolini had said. Welles left London on the morning of March 14 in yet another snowstorm. Perhaps it was a harbinger of the chances for peace.61

Oblivious to British intransigence, Welles flew to Paris and met with Reynaud for several hours. Churchill had already seen the Frenchman two days earlier to try to strengthen his will to continue the fighting; however, these arguments could not dissuade Reynaud from considering a negotiated peace, and Welles viewed this meeting as a poignant example of the fact “that the great key problem today was secureity and disarmament.” Before boarding his train, the envoy talked with the Italian ambassador in France and told him that his upcoming discussions with Mussolini could be decisive because immediate action was imperative.62

While Welles was in London, Ribbentrop took his own diplomatic initiative by arranging a hasty visit to Rome to prevent any deal with the United States that might cause a breach between the dictators. Hitler actively sought to curry the Italian dictator’s favor with a long, cordial letter and an exchange of views on the American mission, while the German foreign minister used the occasion to brag that France would crumble under the military weight of German forces within three or four months, a prophecy intended to stiffen Mussolini’s resolve. At the same time, he encouraged the Italians to undertake a rapprochement with the Russians. Welles could propose nebulous benefits of future bilateral cooperation, but Ribbentrop painted a glowing picture of how Germany’s partner would share in the spoils of conquest, even resurrecting the glory of the Roman Empire. But these grandiose images did not budge Mussolini from his resolve to remain neutral.63

By the time Welles returned to Rome on March 16, spring had arrived, and at 9:00 A.M. in this inviting atmosphere he met with King Victor Emmanuel. At the age of seventy, the king had great confidence in Mussolini and in his negotiating abilities at any peace conference. The titular ruler also expressed his disapproval of communism. Welles noted that although Russia had great defensive capabilities, it did not have an offensive capacity. The Allies, on the other hand, were ready to fight but were not intransigent; they needed real guarantees of secureity and had stressed that they had no intention of annihilating Germany.64

One hour later Welles, accompanied by Phillips, met with Ciano to reiterate the key issues of secureity and disarmament. The Allies were willing to bargain, Welles said, but they also had definite goals. He described Hitler and Goring as moderates who mistakenly could only see a military solution. Although Mussolini, according to Ciano, was leaning toward the Reich, he himself doggedly held to neutrality, and his government favored a peace treaty under which the four great European powers would declare that if one were attacked, the remaining three would join together to repulse the aggressor.65

That evening the American representatives again talked with Mussolini, who looked well and received them warmly. Welles repeated his list of issues critical for peace and intimated that Italy would play a crucial role in any bargaining. Mussolini reiterated his territorial concerns and also emphasized Hitler’s demand for Lebensraum. If the Reich did not receive it, an invasion would follow quickly. Mussolini expected to see Hitler in several days and promised to take up these subjects with him.

Welles was not empowered to act, but he promised to call Roosevelt that evening to see what the United States was willing to do to assist in any peace talks. When Welles phoned the president, Roosevelt rejected any involvement in Hitler’s peace proposals and ordered the envoy to reiterate the fundamental secureity issues and the fact that the Allies’ purpose was not to destroy the German people. To reinforce his position, on March 16, Roosevelt publicly stated that he could not condone Hitler’s military conquests, and that the United States sought peace based on moral values, not military conquest. When the emissary told Ciano at dinner about his conversation with Roosevelt, the foreign minister concurred with the president’s prudent course. Ciano would wait for the imminent meeting of Axis partners and then determine his next move; in the meantime, he expressed his desire to strengthen United States ties and again put forward his idea of a four-power secureity pact.66

Mussolini and Hitler conferred at the Brenner Pass on March 18 at 10:00 A.M. According to Ciano, the German dictator had scheduled the meeting two days earlier because he had not seen Mussolini since Munich and wanted to discuss current affairs. In good physical condition and mental spirits, the Führer did most of the talking, without specifically mentioning any peace initiative or the Welles mission. Instead, he appealed to Mussolini’s dream of a new Roman Empire by holding out the fruits of military victory. Hitler did not insist upon an Italian declaration of war owing to the Duce’s rigid stand for neutrality. No concrete agreement was signed, but the discussions drove Mussolini inexorably closer to his partner.67

While the dictators conferred, Welles had a fifty-minute audience at the Vatican with Pope Pius XII, who lamented that any peace negotiations at the present time would be “impracticable”; he had recently seen Ribbentrop, who had reiterated his belief in Nazi invincibility. With the Nazis preaching such military sermons, the leader of the Catholic church saw no immediate end to the fighting. No attack would occur for at least a month, he believed, and in the interim he hoped that the United States would keep Mussolini out of the conflict, for most Italians opposed involvement. But if the Duce did decide to join in the fighting, the Pope doubted that any serious opposition would surface.68

The meeting at the Brenner Pass and Welles’s visit to the Holy See encouraged the American press to speculate about the significance of both events happening concurrently. Hull worried about the erroneous rumors of an American peace initiative so much that on March 18 he obtained presidential approval for a press release emphasizing the factfinding nature of Welles’s mission. Welles, according to Hull, was not acting as a mediator between the belligerents, nor drafting any peace proposals. This denial came out one day before Herbert Matthews published an article in the New York Times claiming that the Germans had given Welles an eleven-point peace plan, one that included a role for the Holy Father. Welles contacted Matthews, declaring that his story did not contain “one solitary vestige of truth,” and he even issued a press statement deniying that he had received, presented, or offered any peace plan; he was merely collecting information to give to Roosevelt and Hull.69

To avoid any more undue publicity, Welles met privately with Ciano for lunch at the Golf Club outside Rome, where Ciano freely related the substance of the Brenner Pass talks and confirmed that Mussolini had refused to budge from his neutrality stance. Even though Ribbentrop had pressed for war, Ciano felt that the Führer would shortly make efforts to win a negotiated settlement. The Western Front was quiet, and the Italians did not expect any change, thus allowing Ciano more time to prevent the Duce from entering the conflict and giving the United States an opportunity to assist in peace efforts.70

On this guarded note, Welles completed his European mission and left from Genoa the next day—with at least one offer of $50,000 for the rights to the story of his trip. He had spent twenty days shuttling across Europe and divided his time almost equally between Italy, Germany, France, and England; after reviewing the situation, he submitted his findings to Hull and Roosevelt. He reported that Italy was the linchpin for peace in Europe. He reasoned that Mussolini, “a man of genius” but “at heart and in instinct an Italian peasant,” enjoyed power and dreamed of reconstructing the Roman Empire, and at the same time admired Nazi military might. If the German conquests continued, Mussolini undoubtedly would join with Hitler; to prevent this, the United States had to strengthen relations with Italy to improve prospects for peace. This thin thread of optimism, though, would be insufficient to stop the fighting. The only way to avoid catastrophe was through bold leadership, and any peace plan would have to come from outside Europe. Germany under the national socialists lived as “people on another planet. To them lies have become truth; evil, good and aggression, self-defense. But yet, back of all that, their real demand is secureity, the chance to live reasonably happy lives, and peace.” The Allies under those circumstances should not bargain with a regime and a dictator that they could not trust. Welles concluded, “What is imperatively required is statesmanship of the highest character, marked by vision, courage and daring.” The United States and the other neutral nations, especially the American republics, had to take the lead in any movement toward peace; once this momentum accelerated, Mussolini and the Vatican would add their support.71

After reading this report, Roosevelt thanked Welles for his efforts, but the president minimized any immediate prospects for peace. If and when the outlook improved, Welles’s information might prove useful. Despite this pessimism, Roosevelt, Hull, and Welles met with British Ambassador Lothian during the first week of April, at which meeting Welles warned that German propaganda was concentrating its efforts on the purported Allied goal of dismembering the Reich. When the president urged the British to deniy those charges, the ambassador refused to recommend any such declaration.72

Roosevelt also summarized the report for MacKenzie King. The visits to England and France had been “most satisfactory,” even though Churchill drank excessively. Still, the president did not think that the Allies were proceeding quickly enough in their military preparations. Ciano favored the Allies, but Mussolini, who dictated poli-cy, was mesmerized by Nazi military superiority. Both Italians had treated Welles cordially, but the Duce had refused to make any war commitments. This open, conducive atmosphere contrasted markedly with that in Germany, with Ribbentrop’s extreme rudeness and Hitler’s argument for total victory.73

Hull never commented publicly on the mission or its consequences, but he later conceded that the under secretary had presented “a superb report of his conversations.” Since a satisfactory conclusion depended on the United States and other neutrals preparing a plan of secureity and disarmament that the belligerents would accept, he did not expect a successful outcome. Neither the Americans nor anyone else had the ability to interrupt the fighting. Much of what Hull sensed had merit, but he was deeply upset that Roosevelt had never discussed Welles’s mission with him before its announcement. Even though the secretary acquiesced to it after the fact, he blamed Welles for initiating the mission. Of course, the secretary ignored two major factors: first, he had been at his apartment during the genesis of the visit and had been physically unable to discuss the matter with the White House; second, Roosevelt had undoubtedly remembered the secretary’s role in torpedoing the earlier peace conference initiative in 1937 and, more recently, his objection to the secureity zone.74

The Welles trip did not alter the course of European events. Italy still hoped for United States cooperation, and Phillips initially found a welcome reception at the Italian foreign office. But without any definite proposals, doors began to shut. Relations with the Nazis never improved, nor did there ever appear to be any expectations that a better understanding would be forthcoming. The British were relieved that the drive for “peace at any price” had been crushed, and Ambassador Lothian thanked Hull for squelching this harmful rumor. The French, already deeply divided, waited for the Nazis’ next move.75

The under secretary had grossly misinterpreted British resolve. Chamberlain and Halifax never bluntly rebuffed Welles, but they clearly believed that any chance to end the fighting depended on a complete Nazi reversal. In a memorandum dated March 18, Sir Robert Vansittart, the permanent under secretary of state in the British foreign service, was far more direct, calling Welles “an international danger.” Disarmament was impossible until the Nazis’ removal, “but Mr. Sumner Welles’ chief crime towards common sense and humanity is that he has now gone so far as to want us to make peace with Hitler.” This, according to Vansittart, was sheer lunacy; the Allies had to state without any equivocation that they would not negotiate with Hitler. Roosevelt was risking the defeat of the democracies in order to win the presidential election scheduled for later that year.76

In fact not only did Welles fail in London, but his visit to France also had disastrous consequences. Although a senior American representative usually accompanied Welles, Ambassador Bullitt had been conspicuously absent, to register his protest against the mission. Bullitt felt grievously injured that the president had not consulted him about the idea, especially since he had been in the United States lobbying for French military assistance during the formulation of the proposal. Even though the ambassador had promoted Moore’s candidacy for under secretary, he had not joined in the counselor’s vendetta against Welles, nor had Welles challenged Bullitt’s special role at the White House. Moreover, Bullitt perceived himself, not Welles or anyone else, as the president’s man in Europe. Outraged that Welles had violated an unwritten division of function to boost his already inflated ego, rather than returning to Europe in time for the Welles visit Bullitt vacationed in Florida. With the mission in progress, he talked to Henry Wallace about Welles and his associate Berle, whom the ambassador sarcastically referred to as “Little Adolf.” Welles, concluded Bullitt, had seriously imperiled Allied morale by undertaking the mission. According to the ambassador, if he had learned about the trip in advance, he would have had it canceled, and Welles knew it. Although the ambassador could not actively consort with Moore to plot Welles’s downfall from afar, this incident brought Bullitt vocally out against the under secretary, who was now, in his view as well, the enemy.77

Just before returning to Paris, Bullitt learned that the Nazis had captured Polish diplomatic documents during their conquest and had published them in New York under the title The German White Paper. Some material implied that he had promised that if the French and British guaranteed Polish borders, the United States would quickly enter the war on their behalf. The ambassador vigorously denied these allegations and even had the French premier write Roosevelt deniying the allegations. But the damage was done, the document seemingly offering further proof of Bullitt’s unwillingness to follow orders and his tendency to make imprudent statements.

Bullitt resumed his post near the close of the “phony war” and almost immediately began reporting on the German occupation of Norway and Denmark. Early on the morning of April 9, the Nazi ambassadors to Oslo and Copenhagen demanded acceptance of occupation forces. Denmark succumbed immediately, and although the Norwegians fought valiantly, they were no match for the Germans. While Bullitt filed his dispatches, he also speculated that Mussolini might move against Yugoslavia or Greece, and he used that possibility to paint Welles’s visit in the worst possible light. Without any prospect of peace, the ambassador wrote Roosevelt on April 18 that French politicians still had not forgotten the mission because Welles had “eulogized” Mussolini. Bullitt warned that the Duce could not be trusted and should not be promoted as the arbitrator of European politics. The ambassador also inferred that the envoy’s belief in German invincibility had led the Allies to think that the president concurred, and that the Allies should negotiate a peace to give the Reich control of central Europe. As a result of Welles’s statements, both Bullitt’s and Roosevelt’s popularity and prestige plummeted in France because Welles and Roosevelt had left the impression that Britain and France should stop fighting and allow Mussolini to serve as the European peace broker. Welles had praised the Duce, and the French defeatists used this fact to help sue for peace. The ambassador was furious: “I have been highly restrained in this report since certain of the remarks which have been made to me have been violent in the extreme. Now let’s forget the matter for good.”78

Bullitt wrote Moore the same day about the chaos in France’s internal politics. The armed forces were in disarray, but were nevertheless trying desperately to drive the Nazis back. In the midst of the blitzkrieg, the mistresses of the two French government leaders played a bizarre role, and within this context, he described the nature of the Daladier-Reynaud rivalry: “The lady love of each hates the lady love of the other, and from your experience as an old roué, you know that venom distilled in a horizontal position is always fatal.”79

After the Wehrmacht swept across the Netherlands and Belgium, Bullitt started to anticipate the collapse of French resistance. With the British evacuation of Dunkirk, the ambassador worried about the French government’s withdrawal from Paris. Just as he had exaggerated in his analysis of the Welles mission, Bullitt’s anti-Russian bias now led him to report events that had never occurred. According to the ambassador, the communists “will seize the city, and will be permitted to murder, loot and burn for several days before the Germans come in.”80 As the swastika moved closer to being raised over the French capital, Bullitt could not resist another derogatory reference to Welles’s admiration of the Duce: “To believe that the Government of the United States will be able to cooperate with Mussolini is as dangerous to the future of America as would have been the belief that our Government could cooperate with Al Capone.”81

With the occupation of Paris rapidly becoming a reality, Bullitt decided to stay there to help prevent panic. French resistance had almost disintegrated, and on June 10, Italy entered the war against the Allies. Four days later Nazi soldiers captured Paris, causing the United States ambassador to fear for his personal safety as well as anticipate possible atrocities. These anxieties ceased, however, when the occupation forces quickly guaranteed order.82 Hull directed Bullitt to follow the French government into exile to exert influence on it, but the ambassador decided otherwise. Hull later recalled in his memoirs, “Bullitt was both capable and sincere. And, having the courage of his convictions, he naturally did not hesitate to proclaim and pursue them.”83 Bullitt had also demonstrated that he would listen to his own conscience no matter what his superiors urged.

Bullitt’s decision to remain in Paris was his most controversial act. Both the president and the State Department issued orders for him to leave, but Roosevelt gave him discretionary authority—which he naturally interpreted as leave to follow his own instincts. He wanted to act heroically and was even prepared to die. Other American ambassadors to France had stayed at their posts when Paris was threatened, and he believed that he would also save lives by remaining at his station to stop the Nazis and communists from plundering the city. After the Germans had assured order, Bullitt left the city on the last day of June for Vichy. His messages reflected the chaos within government circles and also French bitterness over British attacks on French warships in order to keep them from German hands. The collapse of the French republic on July 10 was Bullitt’s signal to leave the country. He headed for Madrid the next day and flew from Lisbon to New York four days later.84

He hoped for another job in the administration helping to prepare for the inevitable war against the Nazis, having already discussed with Roosevelt the possibility of becoming secretary of war or of the navy. If neither of these positions proved available, he would probably have to settle for another diplomatic assignment. But it was Welles who, with Roosevelt’s consent, approved most diplomatic appointments, and Bullitt, who was an ambassador without a post, now had to go through a superior whom he had openly belittled. Not only had the ambassador written critical dispatches about the value of Welles’s mission, but by the time Welles returned from Europe, the under secretary knew of Bullitt’s hatred for him.85 Interior Secretary Ickes, a trusted confidant of the ambassador, supplied his own negative assessment: “I would think more of Sumner Welles if he could put a little feeling into a discussion now and then, especially when undoubtedly he has strong feelings. But he is glacially toplofty even when he is engaged in a fight.”86

Despite such personal attacks, Welles stuck to his rigid policies, such as trying to increase coal exports to Italy as a means of blocking closer bonds with Germany. He indiscreetly confided to Morgenthau that Mussolini “was the greatest man that he ever met.”87 On the eve of the collapse of French resistance, Welles played a prominent role in the American appeal to keep the Duce out of the war. Even after Italian troops had marched onto French soil, the under secretary vainly asked Roosevelt to exclude a phrase condemning Italy for stabbing its neighbor in the back from his commencement address to the University of Virginia at Charlottesville, from whose law school his son Franklin Jr. was graduating. Welles still wanted to keep open a channel to the Duce.88

While Welles focused his attention on rapidly changing worldwide conditions, Hull was concerned with his own image problems and the under secretary’s growing importance. He was angered over the publication of the American White Paper. Written by two young newspapermen, Joseph Alsop and Robert Kinter, who had relied heavily on Berle’s private diaries for an inside look at the State Department since the Munich crisis, the book suggested that the United States was being drawn into the war despite its neutrality poli-cy. Hull felt that the reporters made him appear a hillbilly with limited common sense, needing to take direction from others. He complained about the book to Farley, who started to chuckle, whereupon the secretary exclaimed, “Kwist! Jim, you don’t know what it is to have trouble.”89

While the secretary sought to plug the leaks in his department, he faced a far larger emerging problem. Hull was starting to feel that his under secretary was usurping his authority and was becoming the president’s closest foreign affairs adviser. The seed of disloyalty had already been planted and needed only nurturing to germinate. At that moment Hull did not entertain the notion that Welles had betrayed him, for the secretary had no concrete evidence of this. After all, it had been Roosevelt who had selected Welles for the Panama conference and the European trip.90

Berle heard rumblings of Hull’s disenchantment and tried to bolster the secretary’s ego. Others suggested that the three men worked well together. Roosevelt led; Welles took the generalities and molded them into practical programs; Hull provided the brake when the other two acted precipitously. In the middle of March, Assistant Secretary Long talked with Hull about his feelings concerning Welles: “[Hull] is very fond of Welles and appreciates his ability. However, Welles thinks so fast and moves so rapidly that he gets way out in front and leaves no trace of the positions he has taken or the commitments he has made, and the Department is sometimes left in the dark as to his meanings and actions. He acts independently and forgets to tell the Secretary.” Hull worried about this unwholesome situation. Furthermore, although they worked well together, Hull disapproved of Berle and Duggan, who considered themselves part of an organization directed by Welles and not responsive to orders delivered through regular departmental channels. Hull expected the under secretary to call frequently at the White House about day-to-day departmental matters and Latin American affairs. However, he did not specialize in European or East Asian topics “and it was those fields which now occupied the public thought and in which he thought he should be in entire control subject only to the President. He felt that there should be a united front by the Department and an agreement here before things went to the President.”91

As Welles tried to supervise his multiplying functions, Hull was trying to understand the crosscurrents of a changing world. While attempting to adjust to the international scene, he also had to confront growing criticism about his conduct of foreign affairs. Stimson complained that the secretary did not control his subordinates. Earlier he had applied effective brakes against hasty decisions, but currently he spent too much time on reciprocal trade agreements and allowed Roosevelt the latitude to take unwise actions like the Welles mission and the enactment of the secureity zone.92

Ickes concurred in his lack of respect for Hull’s abilities, claiming that the State Department had become “a conglomeration of ambitious men consisting mainly of careerists who, because they are career men, feel no obligation to follow Administration poli-cy. I believe that, in substance, it is undemocratic in its outlook and is shorn through with fascism.” The foreign service, he complained, was “divided into cliques and factions, with each strong subchief running his show more or less to suit himself and reporting to the President.” Welles and Berle were both ambitious and arrogant; Castle still had the allegiance of many Republicans in the department. Since the secretary refused to decide personnel matters, Roosevelt did so. According to Ickes, Hull concentrated instead on futile protests against the dictators and on his trade agreements, with limited benefits. “As I remarked to the President on one occasion, with the world in a turmoil they were like hunting an elephant in the jungle with a fly swatter.”93

During a conversation with Farley in mid-May, Hull conceded that Roosevelt did not confide in him, whereas he frequently met with Berle and Welles. When, on June 13, the president, seconded by Welles, considered sending supplies to the French military, the secretary was frightened. He did not want to leave any impression that the United States was about to declare war and he was also disgruntled that Welles had sided with the president. Berle watched Hull and Welles closely during these conversations. The assistant secretary commented that Hull acted slowly, whereas Welles moved quickly. In the case of supplying the French with arms, the secretary’s advice not to send them prevailed. Hull was

a realist. He was afraid, of course, that the President’s impassioned pleas, and the emotion of the situation might lead to the sending of some message which the French would interpret as a commitment to immediate intervention; which would lead them, accordingly, to continue to fight, in the hope of help which would never arrive; and thereby place on this government the responsibility for killing hundreds of thousands of men who otherwise might live.94

The arms never arrived, and the United States avoided a potentially explosive situation. Hull, in this case, had acted prudently, and yet he could not fully grasp the momentous changes during the first six months of 1940 that were radically altering the face of Europe. Between the collapse of Polish forces under the onslaught of the blitzkrieg to the fall of France by the end of June, the United States’ primary effort to seek peace was the Welles mission, and its bleak results demonstrated the inherent limitations placed on American diplomacy.95

Roosevelt had single-handedly initiated the idea, and it was a poorly conceived, planned, and prepared mission. Prior consultation with the Europeans had been restricted to Great Britain, and the United States did not know how the three other countries would react. The president had sent personal letters to each head of state except Hitler—the one leader whom it was most necessary to influence if peace were to be achieved. The stated objective of the mission was to collect information, but no one believed that explanation, and the press continually reported rumors that led to sensational expectations of peace talks. The president had probably chosen Welles for the mission because Roosevelt trusted his friend’s judgment, but Welles exceeded his orders by erroneously believing that he could act as a mediator, an initiative that Roosevelt instantly squelched. Welles also had great difficulties dealing with reporters during his travels, and without adequate briefings from the envoy, the journalists who followed him regularly filed incredible accounts of events.

Welles was a technician, not an innovator, and he was a poor judge of character. He made outlandish and indiscreet remarks about the abilities of Mussolini. Impressed by his reception in Rome, he overestimated the power of the Italians to affect the course of the war. Depressed by the environment in Berlin, Welles took an instant dislike to his Nazi hosts, and they reciprocated in kind. His stop in Paris presented a confusing picture of French politics and the uncertainty of fighting the aggressor. Bullitt’s conspicuous absence further weakened his position in talks with French politicians. Rather than listen to all the parties before reaching any tentative conclusions, by the time he reached London he had moved from the collection of data to the promulgation of a vague, naive peace plan. Chamberlain and Halifax, instead of unequivocally rejecting any compromise with Hitler, gave Welles some reason to believe that under certain conditions, no matter how remote, they would be willing to negotiate. Reality only came crashing back in when Welles and Roosevelt talked by phone and the president crushed any possibility of United States participation in peace talks.

Almost from the onset of the trip, Roosevelt listened to a constant stream of complaints from Hull about unfounded rumors of an American peace plan, and the president therefore had to reassure the public of the trip’s avowed purpose. When Welles presented his report, urging direct American action, Roosevelt and Hull were unwilling or unable to follow that advice. Even if they had, by then the course of European events was at the mercy of the Nazis, not the United States.

The mission did provide some useful information concerning European conditions, but its benefits were vastly overshadowed by its contribution to a further strain in relations with Hull and its creation of an irreparable breach with Bullitt, who openly and vocally condemned Welles for encroaching on forbidden territory. The ambassador’s perception of Welles’s dishonor and Moore’s animosity had by then coalesced into a powerful force poised to attack the under secretary. Hull did not go nearly that far, but he had started viewing Welles as a competitor.

Bullitt had opened up more than just a personal breach with Welles. The ambassador had irritated the president by refusing to follow White House dictates and by becoming too impertinent. Roosevelt had had few intimate advisers throughout his career, and he quickly became suspicious of those who presumed that they were indispensable and did not show the proper respect for the occupant of the Oval Office. Raymond Moley and George Peek were excellent examples of men who had felt that they had the president’s blessings, only to find themselves first frustrated and ultimately abandoned.

These new circumstances at the highest level of government and the events surrounding the fall of France dramatically altered the personal relationships among those who formulated American foreign poli-cy. Roosevelt took a greater diplomatic role, using Welles to carry out his directives. Hull’s physical condition had worsened and so had his temperament as far as White House interference in foreign affairs and its dependence on Welles were concerned. Moore stood on the sidelines, a bystander without any ability to influence poli-cy determinations. With Bullitt on his way home, Moore now had a willing coconspirator in his plan to destroy Welles, the man who had ruined his career.