XVIII A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR - Revision history

Rdh7 at 06:56, 8 February 2009

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	[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''		[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''
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Hirgen at 22:34, 18 January 2009

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Hirgen at 22:30, 18 January 2009

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	<br><br>.		<br><br>.

−	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending the service at St. Paul's<BR> in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I>(<A NAME="n147"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#147">147</A>)	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending the service at St. Paul's<BR> in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I>(<A NAME="n147"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#147">147</A>)</center>
	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>American Embassy, London.		<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>American Embassy, London.
	<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)		<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)

Hirgen at 22:30, 18 January 2009

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	<br><br>.		<br><br>.

−	~~<BLOCKQUOTE>~~	+
−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Arthur W. Page</FONT></I>	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Arthur W. Page</FONT></I></center>
−	<br><br>Bournemouth<BR>	+	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>Bournemouth<BR>
	May 22, 1916.		May 22, 1916.
	<br><br>DEAR ARTHUR:		<br><br>DEAR ARTHUR:
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	that course! It's almost a three hour task to follow my slow		that course! It's almost a three hour task to follow my slow
	ball around it. I suggested we play with howitzers instead of		ball around it. I suggested we play with howitzers instead of
−	clubs. Good night!	+	clubs. Good night!</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<BLOCKQUOTE>	+
−	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>	+	<BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<br><br>.	+	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Frank N. Doubleday and	+	<br><br>.
−	Others</FONT></I>	+
−	<br><br>Royal Bath and East Cliff Hotel, <BR>	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Frank N. Doubleday and Others</FONT></I></center>
		+	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>Royal Bath and East Cliff Hotel, <BR>
	Bournemouth, May 29, 1916.		Bournemouth, May 29, 1916.
	<br><br>DEAR D. P. & Co.:		<br><br>DEAR D. P. & Co.:
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	<br><br>And believe me, dear D. P. & Co. with affectionate greeting		<br><br>And believe me, dear D. P. & Co. with affectionate greeting
	to every one of you and to every one of yours, collectively and		to every one of you and to every one of yours, collectively and
−	singly,	+	singly,</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<BLOCKQUOTE>	+
−	<br><br>Yours heartily,	+	<BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>	+	<br><br>Yours heartily,
−	<br><br>.	+	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending	+	<br><br>.
−	the service at St. Paul's<BR>	+
−	in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I>(<A NAME="n147"></A><A	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending the service at St. Paul's<BR> in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I>(<A NAME="n147"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#147">147</A>)
−	HREF="Pagenotes.htm#147">147</A>)	+	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>American Embassy, London.
−	<br><br>American Embassy, London.	+
	<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)		<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)
	the popular hero and (2) the Cabinet Minister with whom it was		the popular hero and (2) the Cabinet Minister with whom it was
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	comes home and marries and, of course, goes straight back---especially		comes home and marries and, of course, goes straight back---especially
	the young officers. You see weddings all day as you pass the		the young officers. You see weddings all day as you pass the
−	favourite churches; and already the land is full of young widows.	+	favourite churches; and already the land is full of young widows.</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<br><br>.	+	<br><br>.
−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Edwin A. Alderman</FONT></I>(<A	+
−	NAME="n148"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#148">148</A>)	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Edwin A. Alderman</FONT></I>(<A NAME="n148"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#148">148</A>)</center>
−	<br><br>Embassy of the U. S. A., <BR>	+	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>Embassy of the U. S. A., <BR>
	London, June 22, 1916.		London, June 22, 1916.
	<br><br>MY DEAR ED ALDERMAN:		<br><br>MY DEAR ED ALDERMAN:
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	<br><br>My love to Mrs. Alderman. Please don't quote me---yet. I have		<br><br>My love to Mrs. Alderman. Please don't quote me---yet. I have
	to be very silent publicly about everything. After March 4th,		to be very silent publicly about everything. After March 4th,
−	I shall again be free.	+	I shall again be free.</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<BLOCKQUOTE>	+
−	<br><br>Yours always faithfully,	+	<BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>	+	<br><br>Yours always faithfully,
		+	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
		+	<hr>

		+	<references/>

	<hr>		<hr>
	<p align="right">		<p align="right">
	[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''		[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''
−	</p~~><hr~~>	+	</p>

Rdh7 at 18:36, 17 January 2009

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		+	[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''
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	<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">CHAPTER XVIII</FONT></center><br><br>		<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">CHAPTER XVIII</FONT></center><br><br>

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	<br><br>Yours always faithfully,		<br><br>Yours always faithfully,
	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>		<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
		+
		+
	<hr>		<hr>
		+	<p align="right">
		+	[[Main Page \| WWI Document Archive]] > [[Diaries, Memorials, Personal Reminiscences]] > [[The_Life_and_Letters_of_Walter_H._Page\|Walter H. Page]] > '''Chapter XVIII'''
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Hirgen at 11:34, 5 January 2009

2009-01-05T11:34:10Z

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	<br><br>Yours always faithfully,		<br><br>Yours always faithfully,
	<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>		<br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
−	<~~/BLOCKQUOTE>~~	+	<hr>
−		+
−	~~<P ALIGN=CENTER><HR>~~	+
−		+
−	~~<BLOCKQUOTE>~~	+
−	~~<br><br><FONT SIZE="+1"><IMG SRC="thumbnails/2b.gif" WIDTH="25" HEIGHT="24"~~	+
−	~~ALIGN="MIDDLE" BORDER="0" ><A HREF="Page12.htm">Chapter~~	+
−	~~Nineteen</A></FONT>~~	+
−	~~<br><br><FONT SIZE="+1"><IMG SRC="thumbnails/2b.gif" WIDTH="25" HEIGHT="24"~~	+
−	~~ALIGN="MIDDLE" BORDER="0" ><A HREF="PageTC.htm#TC">Table~~	+
−	~~of Contents</A></FONT>~~	+
−	~~</BLOCKQUOTE>~~	+
−		+
−	~~</BODY>~~	+
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Hirgen at 11:33, 5 January 2009

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−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER~~><A NAME="ch18"></A~~><FONT SIZE="+2">CHAPTER XVIII</FONT>	+	<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">CHAPTER XVIII</FONT></center><br><br>

−	<~~P ALIGN=~~CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR</FONT>	+	<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR</FONT></center>

	<br><br>THE beginning of the new year saw no improvement in German-American		<br><br>THE beginning of the new year saw no improvement in German-American

Hirgen: New page:
CHAPTER XVIII
A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR

THE beginning of the new year saw no improve...

2009-01-04T09:55:09Z

New page: <A NAME="ch18"></A>CHAPTER XVIII A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR THE beginning of the new year saw no improve...

New page

<A NAME="ch18"></A>CHAPTER XVIII

A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR

 THE beginning of the new year saw no improvement in German-American
relations. Germany and Austria continued to violate the pledge
given by Bernstorff after the sinking of the Arabic---if
that shifty statement could be regarded as a "pledge."
On November 7, 1915, the Austrians sank the Ancona, in
the Mediterranean, drowning American citizens under conditions
of particular atrocity, and submarine attacks on merchant ships,
without the "warning" or attempt to save passengers
and crew which Bernstoff had promised, took place nearly every
day. On April 18, 1916, the Sussex was torpedoed in the
English Channel, without warning and with loss of American life.
This caused what seemed to be a real crisis; President Wilson
sent what was practically an ultimatum to Germany, demanding that
it "immediately declare and effect an abandonment of its
present methods of warfare against passenger and freight-carrying
vessels," declaring that, unless it did so, the United States
would sever diplomatic relations with the German Empire. In reply,
Germany apparently backed down and gave the promise the President
had demanded. However, it coupled this concession with an expression
of its expectation that the United States would compel Great Britain
to observe international law in the blockade. As this latter statement
might be interpreted as a qualification of its surrender, the
incident hardly ended satisfactorily.

 .

<BLOCKQUOTE>
To Arthur W. Page
 Bournemouth 
May 22, 1916.
 DEAR ARTHUR:
 I stick on the back of this sheet a letter that Sydney Brooks
wrote from New York (May 1st) to the Daily Mail. He formulates
a question that we have many times asked ourselves and that,
in one way or other, comes into everybody's mind here. Of course
the common fellow in Jonesville who has given most of his time
and energy to earning a living for his wife and children has
no foreign consciousness, whether his Jonesville be in the United
States or in England or in France or in Zanzibar. The real question
is, Do these fellows in Jonesville make up the United States?
or has there been such a lack of prompt leadership as to make
all the Jonesville people confused? It's hard for me to judge
at this distance just how far the President has led and just
how far he has waited and been pushed along. Suppose he had stood
on the front steps every morning before breakfast for a month
after the Lusitania went down and had called to the people
in the same tone that he used in his note to Germany---had sounded
a bugle call---would we have felt as we now feel? What would
the men in Jonesville have done then? Would they have got their
old guns down from over the doors? Or do they so want peace and
so think that they can have peace always that they've lost their
spine? Have they really been Bryanized, Fordized, Janeaddamsized,
Sundayschooled, and Chautauquaed into supine creatures to whom
the United States and the ideals of the Fathers mean nothing?
Who think a German is as good as an Englishman? Who have no particular
aims or aspirations for our country and for democracy? When T.
R. was in the White House he surely was an active fellow. He
called us to exercise ourselves every morning. He bawled "Patriotism"
loudly. We surely thought we were awake during those strenuous
years. Were we really awake or did we only look upon him and
his antics as a sort of good show? All that time Bryan was peace-a-footing
and prince-of-peacing. Now did he really have the minds of the
people or did T. R.?
 If we've really gone to sleep and if the United States stands
for nothing but personal comfort and commercialism to our own
people, what a job you and the patriotic men of your generation
have cut out for you!
 My own conviction (which I don't set great store by) is that
our isolation and prosperity have not gone so far in softening
us as it seems. They've gone a good way, no doubt; but I think
that even the Jonesville people yet feel their Americanism. What
they need is---leadership. Their Congressmen are poor, timid,
pork-barrel creatures. Their governors are in training for the
Senate. The Vice-President reads no official literature of the
war, "because then I might have a conviction about it and
that wouldn't be neutral." And so on. If the people had
a real leadership, I believe they'd wake up even in Jonesville.
 Well, let's let these things go for the moment. How's the
Ambassador?(<A NAME="n146"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#146">146</A>)
And the Ambassador's mother and sister? They're nice folks of
whom and from whom I hear far too little. Give 'em my love. I
don't want you to rear a fighting family. But these kids won't
and mustn't grow up peace-cranks---not that anybody objects to
peace, but I do despise and distrust a crank, a crank about anything.
That's the lesson we've got to learn from these troubled times.
First, let cranks alone---the other side of the street is good
enough for them. Then, if they persist, I see nothing to do but
to kill 'em, and that's troublesome and inconvenient.
 But, as I was saying, bless the babies. I can't begin to tell
you how very much I long to see them, to make their acquaintance,
to chuckle 'em and punch 'em and see 'em laugh, and to see just
what sort of kids they be.
 I've written you how in my opinion there's no country in the
world fit for a modern gentleman and man-of-character to live
in except (1) the United States and (2) this island. And this
island is chiefly valuable for the breed of men---the right stock.
They become more valuable to the world after they go away from
home. But the right blood's here. This island's breed is the
best there is. An Englishman or a Scotchman is the best ancestor
in this world, many as his shortcomings are. Some Englishman
asked me one night in what, I thought, the Englishman appeared
at his best. I said, "As an ancestor to Americans! "
And this is the fundamental reason why we (two peoples) belong
close together. Reasons that flow from these are such as follows:
(1) The race is the sea-mastering race and the navy-managing
race and the ocean-carrying race; (2) the race is the literary
race, (3) the exploring and settling and colonizing race, (4)
the race to whom fair play appeals, and (5) that insists on individual
development.
 Your mother having read these two days 1,734 pages of memoirs
of the Coke family, one of whose members wrote the great law
commentaries, another carried pro-American votes in Parliament
in our Revolutionary times, refused peerages, defied kings and---begad!
here they are now, living in the same great house---and saying
and doing what they darn please---we know this generation of
'em! ---well, your mother having read these two big volumes about
the old ones and told me 175 good stories out of these books,
bless her soul! she's gone to sleep in a big chair on the other
side of the table. Well she may, she walked for two hours this
morning over hills and cliffs and through pine woods and along
the beach. I guess I'd better wake her up and get her to go to
bed---as the properer thing to do at this time o'night, viz.
11. My golf this afternoon was too bad to confess. But I must
say that a 650 and a 730 yard hole argues the audacity of some
fellow and the despair of many more. Nature made a lot of obstructions
there and Man made more. It must be seven or eight miles around
that course! It's almost a three hour task to follow my slow
ball around it. I suggested we play with howitzers instead of
clubs. Good night!
<BLOCKQUOTE>
 W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
 .
To Frank N. Doubleday and
Others
 Royal Bath and East Cliff Hotel, 
Bournemouth, May 29, 1916.
 DEAR D. P. & Co.:
 I always have it in mind to write you letters; but there's
no chance in my trenches in London; and, since I have not been
out of London for nearly two years---since the war began---only
an occasional half day and a night-till now-naturally I've concocted
no letter. I've been down here a week---a week of sunshine, praise
God---and people are not after me every ten minutes, or Governments
either; and my most admirable and efficient staff (now grown
to one hundred people) permit few letters and telegrams to reach
me. There never was a little rest more grateful. The quiet sea
out my window shows no sign of crawling submarines; and, in general,
it's as quiet and peaceful here as in Garden City itself.
 I'm on the home-stretch now in all my thoughts and plans.
Three of my four years are gone, and the fourth will quickly
pass. That's not only the limit of my leave, but it's quite enough
for me. I shouldn't care to live through another such experience,
if the chance should ever come to me. It has changed my whole
life and my whole outlook on life; and, perhaps, you'd like to
hear some impressions that it has made upon me.
 The first impression---perhaps the strongest---is a loss of
permanent interest in Europe, especially all Europe outside of
this Kingdom. I have never had the illusion that Europe had many
things that we needed to learn. The chief lesson that it has
had, in my judgment, is the lesson of the art of living---the
comforts and the courtesies of life, the refinements and the
pleasures of conversation and of courteous conduct. The upper
classes have this to teach us; and we need and can learn much
from them.
 But this seems to me all---or practically all. What we care
most for are individual character, individual development, and
a fair chance for every human being. Character, of course, the
English have---immense character, colossal character. But even
they have not the dimmest conception of what we mean by a fair
chance for every human being---not the slightest. In one thousand
years they may learn it from us. Now on the continent,
the only important Nation that has any character worth mentioning
is the French. Of course the little nations---some of them---have
character, such as Holland, Switzerland, Sweden, etc. But these
are all. The others are simply rotten. In giving a free chance
to every human creature, we've nothing to learn from anybody.
In character, I bow down to the English and Scotch; I respect
the Frenchman highly and admire his good taste. But, for our
needs and from our point of view, the English can teach us only
two great lessons---character and the art of living (if you are
rich).
 The idea that we were brought up on, therefore, that Europe
is the home of civilization in general---nonsense! It's a periodical
slaughter-pen, with all the vices that this implies. I'd as lief
live in the Chicago stock-yards. There they kill beeves and pigs.
Here they kill men and (incidentally) women and children. I should
no more think of encouraging or being happy over a child of mine
becoming a European of any Nation than I should be happy over
his fall from Grace in any other way.
 Our form of government and our scheme of society---God knows
they need improving---are yet so immeasurably superior, as systems,
to anything on this side the world that no comparison need be
made.
 My first strong impression, then, is not that Europe is "effete"---that
isn't it. It is mediæval---far back toward the Dark Ages,
much of it yet uncivilized, held back by inertia when not held
back by worse things. The caste system is a constant burden almost
as heavy as war itself and often quite as cruel.
 The next impression I have is, that, during the thousand years
that will be required for Europe to attain real (modern) civilization,
wars will come as wars have always come in the past. The different
countries and peoples and governments will not and cannot learn
the lesson of federation and cooperation so long as a large mass
of their people have no voice and no knowledge except of their
particular business. Compare the miles of railway in proportion
to population with the same proportion in the United States---or
the telephones, or the use of the mails, or of bank cheeks; or
make any other practical measure you like. Every time, you'll
come back to the discouraging fact that the masses in Europe
are driven as cattle. So long as this is true, of course, they'll
be driven periodically into wars. So many countries, so many
races, so many languages all within so small an area as Europe
positively invite deadly differences. If railroads had been invented
before each people had developed its own separate language, Europe
could somehow have been coordinated, linked up, federated, made
to look at life somewhat in the same way. As it is, wars will
be bred here periodically for about another thousand years. The
devil of this state of things is that they may not always be
able to keep their wars at home.
 For me, then, except England and the smaller exceptions that
I have mentioned, Europe will cut no big figure in my life. In
all the humanities, we are a thousand years ahead of any people
here. So also in the adaptabilities and the conveniences of life,
in its versatilities and in its enjoyments. Most folk are stolid
and sad or dull on this side of the world. Else how could they
take their kings and silly ceremonies seriously?
 Now to more immediate and definite impressions. I have for
a year had the conviction that we ought to get into the war---into
the economic war---for the following among many reasons.
 1. That's the only way to shorten it. We could cause Germany's
credit (such as she has) instantly to collapse, and we could
hasten her hard times at home which would induce a surrender.
 2. That's the only way we can have any real or important influence
in adjusting whatever arrangements can be made to secure peace.
 3. That's the best way we can inspire complete respect for
us in the minds of other nations and thereby, perhaps, save ourselves
from some wars in the future.
 4. That's the best way we can assert our own character---our
Americanism, and forever get rid of all kinds of hyphens.
 5. That's the only way we shall ever get a real and sensible
preparedness, which will be of enormous educational value even
if no military use should ever be made of our preparation.
 6. That's the only way American consciousness will ever get
back to the self-sacrificing and patriotic point of view of the
Fathers of the Republic.
 7. That's the best way to emancipate ourselves from cranks.
 8. That's the only way we'll ever awaken in our whole people
a foreign consciousness that will enable us to assert our natural
influence in the world---political, financial, social, commercial---the
best way to make the rest of the world our customers and friends
and followers.
 All the foregoing I have fired at the Great White Chief for
a year by telegraph and by mail; and I have never fired it anywhere
else till now. Be very quiet, then.
 No man with whom I have talked or whose writings I have read
seems to me to have an adequate conception of the colossal changes
that the war is bringing and will bring. Of course, I do not
mean to imply that I have any adequate conception. Nobody can
yet grasp it. The loss of (say) ten million men from production
of work or wares or children; what a changed world that fact
alone will make! The presence in all Europe of (perhaps) fifteen
or twenty million more women than men will upset the whole balance
of society as regards the sexes. The loss of most of the accumulated
capital of Europe and the vast burdens of debt for the future
to pay will change the financial relations of the whole world.
From these two great losses---men and money---God knows the many
kinds of changes that will come. Women are doing and will continue
to do many kinds of work hitherto done by men.
 Of course there are some great gains. Many a flabby or abject
fellow will come out of the war a real man: he'll be nobody's
slave thereafter. The criminal luxury of the rich will not assert
itself again for a time. The unparalleled addition to the world's
heroic deeds will be to the good of mankind, as the unparalleled
suffering has eclipsed all records. The survivors will be in
an heroic mood for the rest of their lives. In general, life
will start on a new plane and a lot of old stupid habits and
old party quarrels and class prejudices will disappear. To get
Europe going again will call for new resolution and a new sort
of effort. Nobody can yet see what far-reaching effects it will
have on government.
 If I could make the English and Scotch over, I could greatly
improve them. I'd cut out the Englishman's arrogance and key
him up to a quicker gait. Lord! he's a slow beast. But he's worked
out the germ and the beginning of all real freedom, and he has
character. He knows how to conserve and to use wealth. He's a
great John Bull, after all. And as for commanding the sea, for
war or trade, you may properly bow down to him and pay him homage.
The war will, I think, quicken him up. It will lessen his arrogance---to
us, at least. I think it will make him stronger and humbler.
And, whatever his virtues and his faults, he's the only Great
Power we can go hand in hand with . . . .
 These kinds of things have been going on now nearly two years,
and not till these ten days down here have I had time or chance
or a free mind to think them over; and now there's nothing in
particular to think---nothing but just to go on, doing these
40,000 things (and they take a new turn every day) the best I
can, without the slightest regard to consequences. I've long
ago passed the place where, having acted squarely according to
my best judgment, I can afford to pay the slightest attention
to what anybody thinks. I see men thrown on the scrap heap every
day. Many of them deserve it, but a good many do not. In the
abnormal state of mind that everybody has, there are inevitable
innocent misunderstandings, which are as fatal as criminal mistakes.
The diplomatic service is peculiarly exposed to misunderstandings:
and, take the whole diplomatic service of all nations as shown
up by this great strain, it hasn't stood the test very well.
I haven't the respect for it that I had when I started. Yet,
God knows, I have a keen sympathy for it. I've seen some of 'em
displaced; some of 'em lie down; some of 'em die.
 As I've got closer and closer to big men, as a rule they shrink
up. They are very much like the rest of us---many of 'em more
so. Human nature is stripped in these times of most of its disguises,
and men have to stand and be judged as a rule by their real qualities.
Among all the men in high place here, Sir Edward Grey stands
out in my mind bigger, not smaller, than he stood in the beginning.
He's a square, honourable gentleman, if there is one in this
world. And it is he, of course, with whom I have had all my troubles.
It's been a truly great experience to work and to quarrel with
such a man. We've kept the best friendship--a constantly ripening
one. There are others like him---only smaller.
 Yet they are all in turn set upon by the press or public opinion
and hounded like criminals. They try (somebody tries) to drive
'em out of office every once in a while. If there's anything
I'm afraid of, it's the newspapers. The correspondents are as
thick as flies in summer---all hunting sensations---especially
the yellow American press. I play the game with these fellows
always squarely, sometimes I fear indiscreetly. But what is discretion?
That's the hardest question of all. We have regular meetings.
I tell 'em everything I can---always on the condition that I'm
kept out of the papers. If they'll never mention me, I'll do
everything possible for them. Absolute silence of the newspapers
(as far as I can affect it) is the first rule of safety. So far
as I know, we've done fairly well; but always in proportion to
silence. I don't want any publicity. I don't want any glory.
I don't want any office. I don't want nothin'---but to do this
job squarely, to get out of this scrape, to go off somewhere
in the sunshine and to see if I can slip back into my old self
and see the world sane again. Yet I'm immensely proud that I
have had the chance to do some good---to keep our record straight---as
far as I can, and to be of what service I can to these heroic
people.
 Out of it all, one conviction and one purpose grows and becomes
clearer. The world isn't yet half-organized. In the United States
we've lived in a good deal of a fool's paradise. The world isn't
half so safe a place as we supposed. Until steamships and telegraphs
brought the nations all close together, of course we could enjoy
our isolation. We can't do so any longer. One mad fool in Berlin
has turned the whole earth topsy-turvy. We'd forgotten what our
forefathers learned---the deadly dangers of real monarchs and
of castes and classes. There are a lot of 'em left in the world
yet. We've grown rich and---weak; we've let cranks and old women
shape our ideas. We've let our politicians remain provincial
and ignorant.
 And believe me, dear D. P. & Co. with affectionate greeting
to every one of you and to every one of yours, collectively and
singly,
<BLOCKQUOTE>
 Yours heartily,
 W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
 .
Memorandum written after attending
the service at St. Paul's 
in memory of Lord Kitchener.(<A NAME="n147"></A><A
HREF="Pagenotes.htm#147">147</A>)
 American Embassy, London.
 There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)
the popular hero and (2) the Cabinet Minister with whom it was
impossible for his associates to get along. He made his administrative
career as an autocrat dealing with dependent and inferior peoples.
This experience fixed his habits and made it impossible for him
to do team work or to delegate work or even to inform his associates
of what he had done or was doing. While, therefore, his name
raised a great army, he was in many ways a hindrance in the Cabinet.
First one thing and then another was taken out of his hands---ordnance,
munitions, war plans. When he went to Gallipoli, some persons
predicted that he would never come back. There was a hot meeting
of the Cabinet at which he was asked to go to Russia, to make
a sort of return visit for the visit that important Russians
had made here, and to link up Russia's military plans with the
plans of the Western Allies. He is said to have remarked that
he was going only because he had been ordered to go. There was
a hope and a feeling again that he might not come back till after
the war.
 Now just how much truth there is in all this, one has to guess;
but undoubtedly a good deal. He did much in raising the army,
but his name did more. What an extraordinary situation! The great
hero of the Nation an impossible man to work with. The Cabinet
could not tell the truth about him: the people would not believe
it and would make the Cabinet suffer. Moreover, such a row would
have given comfort to the enemy. Kitchener, on his part, could
not afford to have an open quarrel. The only solution was to
induce him to go away for a long time. Both sides saw that. Such
thoughts were in everybody's mind while the impressive funeral
service was said and sung in St. Paul's. The Great Hero, who
had failed, was celebrated of course as a Great Hero---quite
truly and yet far from true. For him his death came at a lucky
time: his work was done.
 There is even a rumour, which I don't for a moment believe,
that he is alive on the Orkney Islands and prefers to disappear
there till the war ends. This is fantastic, and it was doubtless
suggested by the story that he did disappear for several years
while he was a young officer.
 I could not help noticing, when I saw all the Cabinet together
at the Cathedral, how much older many of them look than they
looked two years ago. Sir Edward Grey, Mr. Asquith, Mr. Balfour,
who is really an old man, Lloyd George---each of these seems
ten years older. And so does the King. The men in responsible
places who are not broken by the war will be bent. General French,
since his retirement to command of the forces in England, seems
much older. So common is this quick aging that Lady Jellicoe,
who went to Scotland to see her husband after the big naval battle,
wrote to Mrs. Page in a sort of rhapsody and with evident surprise
that the Admiral really did not seem older! The weight of this
thing is so prodigious that it is changing all men who have to
do with it. Men and women (who do not wear mourning) mention
the death of their sons in a way that a stranger might mistake
for indifference. And it has a curious effect on marriages. Apparently
every young fellow who gets a week's leave from the trenches
comes home and marries and, of course, goes straight back---especially
the young officers. You see weddings all day as you pass the
favourite churches; and already the land is full of young widows.
 .
To Edwin A. Alderman(<A
NAME="n148"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#148">148</A>)
 Embassy of the U. S. A., 
London, June 22, 1916.
 MY DEAR ED ALDERMAN:
 I shall not forget how good you were to take time to write
me a word about the meeting of the Board---the Board: there's
no other one in that class---at Hampton,(<A NAME="n149"></A><A
HREF="Pagenotes.htm#149">149</A>) and I did most heartily appreciate
the knowledge that you all remembered me. Alas! it's a long,
long time ago when we all met---so long ago that to me it seems
a part of a former incarnation. These three years---especially
these two years of the war---have changed my whole outlook on
life and foreshortened all that came before. I know I shall never
link back to many things (and alas! too, to many people) that
once seemed important and surely were interesting. Life in these
trenches (five warring or quarrelling governments mining and
sapping under me and shooting over me)---two years of universal
ambassadorship in this hell are enough---enough I say, even for
a man who doesn't run away from responsibilities or weary of
toil. And God knows how it has changed me and is changing me:
I sometimes wonder, as a merely intellectual and quite impersonal
curiosity.
 Strangely enough I keep pretty well---very well, in fact.
Perhaps I've learned how to live more wisely than I knew in the
old days; perhaps again, I owe it to my old grandfather who lived
(and enjoyed) ninety-four years. I have walked ten miles to-day
and I sit down as the clock strikes eleven (p. m.) to write this
letter.
 You will recall more clearly than I certain horrible, catastrophic,
universal-ruin passages in Revelation---monsters swallowing the
universe, blood and fire and clouds and an eternal crash, rolling
ruin enveloping all things---well, all that's come. There are,
perhaps, ten million men dead of this war and, perhaps, one hundred
million persons to whom death would be a blessing. Add to these
as many millions more whose views of life are so distorted that
blank idiocy would be a better mental outlook, and you'll get
a hint (and only a hint) of what the continent has already become---a
bankrupt slaughter-house inhabited by unmated women. We have
talked of "problems" in our day. We never had a problem;
for the worst task we ever saw was a mere blithe pastime compared
with what these women and the few men that will remain here must
face. The hills about Verdun are not blown to pieces worse than
the whole social structure and intellectual and spiritual life
of Europe. I wonder that anybody is sane.
 Now we have swung into a period and a state of mind wherein
all this seems normal. A lady said to me at a dinner party (think
of a dinner party at all!), "Oh, how I shall miss the war
when it ends! Life without it will surely be dull and tame. What
can we talk about? Will the old subjects ever interest us again?"
I said, " Let's you and me try and see." So we talked
about books---not war books---old country houses that we both
knew, gardens and gold and what not; and in fifteen minutes we
swung back to the war before we were aware.
 I get out of it, as the days rush by, certain fundamental
convictions, which seem to me not only true---true beyond any
possible cavil---truer than any other political things are true---and
far more important than any other contemporary facts whatsoever
in any branch of endeavour, but better worth while than anything
else that men now living may try to further:
 1. The cure for democracy is more democracy. The danger to
the world lies in autocrats and autocracies and privileged classes;
and these things have everywhere been dangerous and always will
be. There's no security in any part of the world where people
cannot think of a government without a king, and there never
will be. You cannot conceive of a democracy that will unprovoked
set out on a career of conquest. If all our religious missionary
zeal and cash could be turned into convincing Europe of this
simple and obvious fact, the longest step would be taken for
human advancement that has been taken since 1776. If Carnegie,
or, after he is gone, his Peace People could see this, his Trust
might possibly do some good.
 2. As the world stands, the United States and Great Britain
must work together and stand together to keep the predatory nations
in order. A League to Enforce Peace and the President's idea
of disentangling alliances are all in the right direction, but
vague and general and cumbersome, a sort of bastard children
of Neutrality. The thing, the only thing is---a perfect
understanding between the English-speaking peoples. That's necessary,
and that's all that's necessary. We must boldly take the lead
in that. I frankly tell my friends here that the English have
got to throw away their damned arrogance and their insularity
and that we Americans have got to throw away our provincial ignorance
("What is abroad to us?"), hang our Irish agitators
and shoot our hyphenates and bring up our children with reverence
for English history and in the awe of English literature. This
is the only job now in the world worth the whole zeal and energy
of all first-class, thoroughbred English-speaking men. We must
lead. We are natural leaders. The English must be driven to lead.
Item: We must get their lads into our universities, ours into
theirs. They don't know how to do it, except the little driblet
of Rhodes men. Think this out, remembering what fools we've been
about exchange professors with Germany! How much good could Fons
Smith(<A NAME="n150"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#150">150</A>)
do in a thousand years, on such an errand as he went on to Berlin?
And the English don't know how to do it. They are childish (in
some things) beyond belief. An Oxford or Cambridge man never
thinks of going back to his university except about twice a lifetime
when his college formally asks him to come and dine. Then he
dines as docilely as a scared Freshman. I am a D. C. L. of Oxford.
I know a lot of their faculty. They are hospitality itself. But
I've never yet found out one important fact about the university.
They never tell me. I've been down at Cambridge time and again
and stayed with the Master of one of the colleges. I can no more
get at what they do and how they do it than I could get at the
real meaning of a service in a Buddhist Temple. I have spent
a good deal of time with Lord Rayleigh, who is the, Chancellor
of Cambridge University. He never goes there. If he were to enter
the town, all the men in the university would have to stop their
work, get on their parade-day gowns, line-up by precedent and
rank and go to meet him and go through days of ceremony and incantations.
I think the old man has been there once in five years. Now this
mediævalism must go---or be modified. You fellers who have
universities must work a real alliance---a big job here. But
to go on.
 The best informed English opinion is ripe for a complete working
understanding with us. We've got to work up our end---get rid
of our ignorance of foreign affairs, our shirt-sleeve, complaining
kind of diplomacy, our sport of twisting the lion's tail and
such things and fall to and bring the English out. It's the one
race in this world that's got the guts.
 Hear this in confirmation: I suppose 1,000 English women have
been to see me---as a last hope---to ask me to have inquiries
made in Germany about their "missing" sons or husbands,
generally sons. They are of every class and rank and kind, from
marchioness to scrubwoman. Every one tells her story with the
same dignity of grief, the same marvellous self-restraint, the
same courtesy and deference and sorrowful pride. Not one has
whimpered---but one. And it turned out that she was a Belgian.
It's the breed. Spartan mothers were theatrical and pinchbeck
compared to these women.
 I know a lady of title, very well to do, who for a year got
up at 5:30 and drove herself in her own automobile from her home
in London to Woolwich where she worked all day long in a shell
factory as a volunteer and got home at 8 o'clock at night. At
the end of a year they wanted her to work in a London place where
they keep the records of the Woolwich work. "Think of it,"
said she, as she shook her enormous diamond ear-rings as I sat
next to her at dinner one Sunday night not long ago, "think
of it---what an easy time I now have. I don't have to start till
half-past seven and I get home at half-past six !"
 I could fill forty pages with stories like these. This very
Sunday I went to see a bedridden old lady who sent me word that
she had something to tell me. Here it was: An English flying
man's machine got out of order and he had to descend in German
territory. The Germans captured him and his machine. They ordered
him to take two of their flying men in his machine to show them
a particular place in the English lines. He declined. "Very
well, we'll shoot you, then." At last he consented. The
three started. The Englishman quietly strapped himself in. There
were no straps for the two Germans. The Englishman looped-the-loop.
The Germans fell out. The Englishman flew back home. "My
son has been to see me from France. He told me that. He knows
the man"---thus said the old lady and thanked me for coming
to hear it! She didn't know that the story has been printed.
 But the real question is, "How are you?" Do you
keep strong? Able, without weariness, to keep up your good work?
I heartily hope so, old man. Take good care of yourself---very.
 My love to Mrs. Alderman. Please don't quote me---yet. I have
to be very silent publicly about everything. After March 4th,
I shall again be free.
<BLOCKQUOTE>
 Yours always faithfully,
 W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
</BLOCKQUOTE>

<HR>

<BLOCKQUOTE>
 <IMG SRC="thumbnails/2b.gif" WIDTH="25" HEIGHT="24"
ALIGN="MIDDLE" BORDER="0" ><A HREF="Page12.htm">Chapter
Nineteen</A>
 <IMG SRC="thumbnails/2b.gif" WIDTH="25" HEIGHT="24"
ALIGN="MIDDLE" BORDER="0" ><A HREF="PageTC.htm#TC">Table
of Contents</A>
</BLOCKQUOTE>

</BODY>
</HTML>

← Older revision		Revision as of 22:34, 18 January 2009
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	a real leadership, I believe they'd wake up even in Jonesville.		a real leadership, I believe they'd wake up even in Jonesville.
	<br><br>Well, let's let these things go for the moment. How's the		<br><br>Well, let's let these things go for the moment. How's the
−	Ambassador?(<~~A NAME="n146"~~></A~~><A HREF="Pagenotes~~.~~htm#146">146~~</A>)	+	Ambassador?<ref>A playful reference to the Ambassador's infant grandson, Walter H. Page, Jr.</ref>
	And the Ambassador's mother and sister? They're nice folks of		And the Ambassador's mother and sister? They're nice folks of
	whom and from whom I hear far too little. Give 'em my love. I		whom and from whom I hear far too little. Give 'em my love. I
Line 371:		Line 371:
	<br><br>.		<br><br>.

−	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending the service at St. Paul's<BR> in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I>(<~~A NAME="n147"~~>~~</A><A HREF="Pagenotes~~.~~htm#147">147~~</A>)</center>	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">Memorandum written after attending the service at St. Paul's<BR> in memory of Lord Kitchener.</FONT></I><ref>Drowned on the Hampshire, June 5, 1916, off the coast of Scotland.</ref></center>
	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>American Embassy, London.		<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>American Embassy, London.
	<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)		<br><br>There were two Kitcheners, as every informed person knows---(1)
Line 431:		Line 431:
	<br><br>.		<br><br>.

−	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Edwin A. Alderman</FONT></I>(<~~A NAME="n148"~~>~~</A><A HREF="Pagenotes~~.~~htm#148">148~~</A>)</center>	+	<CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Edwin A. Alderman</FONT></I><ref>President of the University of Virginia.</ref></center>
	<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>Embassy of the U. S. A., <BR>		<BLOCKQUOTE><br><br>Embassy of the U. S. A., <BR>
	London, June 22, 1916.		London, June 22, 1916.
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	<br><br>I shall not forget how good you were to take time to write		<br><br>I shall not forget how good you were to take time to write
	me a word about the meeting of the Board---the Board: there's		me a word about the meeting of the Board---the Board: there's
−	no other one in that class---at Hampton,(<~~A NAME="n149"~~>~~</A><A~~	+	no other one in that class---at Hampton,<ref>Hampton Institute, at Hampton, Va.</ref> and I did most heartily appreciate
−	~~HREF="Pagenotes~~.~~htm#149">149~~</A>) and I did most heartily appreciate	+
	the knowledge that you all remembered me. Alas! it's a long,		the knowledge that you all remembered me. Alas! it's a long,
	long time ago when we all met---so long ago that to me it seems		long time ago when we all met---so long ago that to me it seems
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	of Rhodes men. Think this out, remembering what fools we've been		of Rhodes men. Think this out, remembering what fools we've been
	about exchange professors with Germany! How much good could Fons		about exchange professors with Germany! How much good could Fons
−	Smith(<~~A NAME="n150"~~>~~</A><A HREF="Pagenotes~~.~~htm#150">150~~</A>)	+	Smith<ref>C. Alphonso Smith, Professor of English, U. S. Naval Academy; Roosevelt Professor at Berlin, 1910-11.</ref>
	do in a thousand years, on such an errand as he went on to Berlin?		do in a thousand years, on such an errand as he went on to Berlin?
	And the English don't know how to do it. They are childish (in		And the English don't know how to do it. They are childish (in

XVIII A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR - Revision history

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Hirgen: New page: CHAPTER XVIII A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR THE beginning of the new year saw no improve...

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CHAPTER XVIII
A PERPLEXED AMBASSADOR

THE beginning of the new year saw no improve...