View source for XII "WAGING NEUTRALITY"

<center>[[Image: Walter_H._Page_Signature.gif]]</center><br><br> 

<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2" FACE="Times">CHAPTER XII</FONT></center><br><br> 

<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">WAGING NEUTRALITY</FONT></center><br><br> 

<CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">I</FONT>

<br><br>THE foregoing letters sufficiently portray Page's attitude
toward the war; they also show the extent to which he suffered
from the daily tragedy. The great burdens placed upon the Embassy
in themselves would have exhausted a physical frame that had never
been particularly robust; but more disintegrating than these was
the mental distress---the constant spectacle of a civilization
apparently bent upon its own destruction. Indeed there were probably
few men in Europe upon whom the war had a more depressing effect.
In the first few weeks the Ambassador perceptibly grew older;
his face became more deeply lined, his hair became grayer, his
body thinner, his step lost something of its quickness, his shoulders
began to stoop, and his manner became more and more abstracted.
Page's kindness, geniality, and consideration had long since endeared
him to all the embassy staff, from his chief secretaries to clerks
and doormen; and all his associates now watched with affectionate
solicitude the extent to which the war was wearing upon him. &quot;In
those first weeks,&quot; says Mr. Irwin Laughlin, Page's most
important assistant and the man upon whom the routine work of
the Embassy largely fell, &quot;he acted like a man who was carrying
on his shoulders all the sins and burdens of the world. I know
no man who seemed to realize so poignantly the misery and sorrow
of it all. The sight of an England which he loved bleeding to
death in defence of the things in which he most believed was a
grief that seemed to be sapping his very life.&quot;

<br><br>Page's associates, however, noted a change for the better after
the Battle of the Marne. Except to his most intimate companions
he said little, for he represented a nation that was &quot;neutral&quot;;
but the defeat of the Germans added liveliness to his step, gave
a keener sparkle to his eye, and even brought back some of his
old familiar gaiety of spirit. One day the Ambassador was lunching
with Mr. Laughlin and one or two other friends.

<br><br>&quot;We did pretty well in that Battle of the Marne, didn't
we?&quot; he said.

<br><br>&quot;Isn't that remark slightly unneutral, Mr. Ambassador?
&quot; asked Mr. Laughlin.

<br><br>At this a roar of laughter went up from the table that could
be heard for a considerable distance.

<br><br>About this same time Page's personal secretary, Mr. Harold
Fowler, came to ask the Ambassador's advice about enlisting in
the British Army. To advise a young man to take a step that might
very likely result in his death was a heavy responsibility, and
the Ambassador refused to accept it. It was a matter that the
Secretary could settle only with his own conscience. Mr. Fowler
decided his problem by joining the British Army; he had a distinguished
career in its artillery and aviation service as he had subsequently
in the American Army. Mr. Fowler at once discovered that his decision
had been highly pleasing to his superior.

<br><br>&quot;I couldn't advise you to do this, Harold,&quot; Page
said, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder, &quot;but
now that you've settled it yourself I'll say this---if I were
a young man like you and in your circumstances, I should enlist
myself.&quot;

<br><br>Yet greatly as Page abhorred the Prussians and greatly as his
sympathies from the first day of the war were enlisted on the
side of the Allies, there was no diplomat in the American service
who was more &quot;neutral&quot; in the technical sense. &quot;Neutral!&quot;
Page once exclaimed. &quot;There's nothing in the world so neutral
as this embassy. Neutrality takes up all our time.&quot; When
he made this remark he was, as he himself used to say, &quot;the
German Ambassador to Great Britain.&quot; And he was performing
the duties of this post with the most conscientious fidelity.
These duties were onerous and disagreeable ones and were made
still more so by the unreasonableness of the German Government.
Though the American Embassy was caring for the more than 70,000
Germans who were then living in England and was performing numerous
other duties, the Imperial Government never realized that Page
and the Embassy staff were doing it a service. With characteristic
German tactlessness the German Foreign Office attempted to be
as dictatorial to Page as though he had been one of its own junior
secretaries. The business of the German Embassy in London was
conducted with great ability; the office work was kept in the
most shipshape condition; yet the methods were American methods
and the Germans seemed aggrieved because the routine of the Imperial
bureaucracy was not observed. With unparallelled insolence they
objected to the American system of accounting---not that it was
unsound or did not give an accurate picture of affairs---but simply
that it was not German. Page quietly but energetically informed
the German Government that the American diplomatic service was
not a part of the German organization, that its bookkeeping system
was American, not German, that he was doing this work not as an
obligation but as a favour, and that, so long as he continued
to do it, he would perform the duty in his own way. At this the
Imperial Government subsided. Despite such annoyances Page refused
to let his own feelings interfere with the work. The mere fact
that he despised the Germans made him over-scrupulous in taking
all precautions that they obtained exact justice. But this was
all that the German cause in Great Britain did receive. His administration
of the German Embassy was faultless in its technique, but it did
not err on the side of over-enthusiasm.

<br><br>His behaviour throughout the three succeeding years was entirely
consistent with his conception of &quot;neutrality.&quot; That
conception, as is apparent from the letters already printed, was
not the Wilsonian conception. Probably no American diplomat was
more aggrieved at the President's definition of neutrality than
his Ambassador to Great Britain. Page had no quarrel with the
original neutrality proclamation; that was purely a routine governmental
affair, and at the time it was issued it represented the proper
American attitude. But the President's famous emendations filled
him with astonishment and dismay. &quot;We must be impartial in
thought as well as in action,&quot; said the President on August
19th,(<A NAME="n90"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#90">90</A>) &quot;we
must put a curb upon our sentiments as well as upon every transaction
that might be construed as a prejudice of one party to the prejudice
of another.&quot; Page was prepared to observe all the traditional
rules of neutrality, to insist on American rights with the British
Government, and to do full legal justice to the Germans, but he
declined to abrogate his conscience where his personal judgment
of the rights and wrongs of the conflict were concerned. &quot;Neutrality,&quot;
he said in a letter to his brother, Mr. Henry A. Page, of Aberdeen,
N. C, &quot;is a quality ---of government---an artificial unit.
When a war comes a government must go in it or stay out of it.
It must make a declaration to the world of its attitude. That's
all that neutrality is. A government can be neutral, but no man
can be.&quot;

<br><br>&quot;The President and the Government,&quot; Page afterward
wrote, &quot;in their insistence upon the moral quality of neutrality,
missed the larger meaning of the war. It is at bottom nothing
but the effort of the Berlin absolute monarch and his group to
impose their will on as large a part of the world as they can
overrun. The President started out with the idea that it was a
war brought on by many obscure causes---economic and the like;
and he thus missed its whole meaning. We have ever since been
dealing with the chips which fly from the war machine and have
missed the larger meaning of the conflict. Thus we have failed
to render help to the side of Liberalism and Democracy, which
are at stake in the world.&quot;

<br><br>Nor did Page think it his duty, in his private communications
to his Government and his friends, to maintain that attitude of
moral detachment which Mr. Wilson's pronouncement had evidently
enjoined upon him. It was not his business to announce his opinions
to the world, for he was not the man who determined the policy
of the United States; that was the responsibility of the President
and his advisers. But an ambassador did have a certain role to
perform. It was his duty to collect information and impressions,
to discover what important people thought of the United States
and of its policies, and to send forward all such data to Washington.
According to Page's theory of the Ambassadorial office, he was
a kind of listening post on the front of diplomacy, and he would
have grievously failed had he not done his best to keep headquarters
informed. He did not regard it as &quot;loyalty&quot; merely to
forward only that kind of material which Washington apparently
preferred to obtain; with a frankness which Mr. Wilson's friends
regarded as almost ruthless, Page reported what he believed to
be the truth. That this practice was displeasing to the powers
of Washington there is abundant evidence. In early December, 1914,
Colonel House was compelled to transmit a warning to the American
Ambassador at London. &quot;The President wished me to ask you
to please be more careful not to express any unneutral feeling,
either by word of mouth, or by letter and not even to the State
Department. He said that both Mr. Bryan and Mr. Lansing had remarked
upon your leaning in that direction and he thought that it would
materially lessen your influence. He feels very strongly about
this.&quot;

<br><br>Evidently Page did not regard his frank descriptions of England
under war as expressing unneutral feeling; at any rate, as the
war went on, his letters, even those which he wrote to President
Wilson, became more and more outspoken. Page's resignation was
always at the President's disposal; the time came, as will appear,
when it was offered; so long as he occupied his post, however,
nothing could turn him from his determination to make what he
regarded as an accurate record of events. This policy of maintaining
an outward impartiality, and, at the same time, of bringing pressure
to bear on Washington in behalf of the Allies, he called &quot;waging
neutrality.&quot;

<br><br>Such was the mood in which Page now prepared to play his part
in what was probably the greatest diplomatic drama in history.
The materials with which this drama concerned itself were such
apparently lifeless subjects as ships and cargoes, learned discourses
on such abstract matters as the doctrine of continuous voyage,
effective blockade, and conditional contraband; yet the struggle,
which lasted for three years, involved the greatest issue of modern
times---nothing less than the survival of those conceptions of
liberty, government, and society which make the basis of English-speaking
civilization. To the newspaper reader of war days, shipping difficulties
signified little more than a newspaper headline which he hastily
read, or a long and involved lawyer's note which he seldom read
at all---or, if he did, practically never understood. Yet these
minute and neglected controversies presented to the American Nation
the greatest decision in its history. Once before, a century ago,
a European struggle had laid before the United States practically
the same problem. Great Britain fought Napoleon, just as it had
now been compelled to fight the Hohenzollern, by blockade; such
warfare, in the early nineteenth century, led to retaliations,
just as did the maritime warfare in the recent conflict, and the
United States suffered, in 1812, as in 1914, from what were regarded
as the depredations of both sides. In Napoleon's days France and
Great Britain, according to the international lawyers, attacked
American commerce in illegal ways; on strictly technical grounds
this infant nation had an adequate cause of war against both belligerents;
but the ultimate consequence of a very confused situation was
a declaration of war against Great Britain. Though an England
which was ruled by a George III or a Prince Regent---an England
of rotten boroughs, of an ignorant and oppressed peasantry, and
of a social organization in which caste was almost as definitely
drawn as in an Oriental despotism---could hardly appeal to the
enthusiastic democrat as embodying all the ideals of his system,
yet the England of 1800 did represent modern progress when compared
with the mediaeval autocracy of Napoleon. If we take this broad
view, therefore, we must admit that, in 1812, we fought on the
side of darkness and injustice against the forces that were making
for enlightenment. The war of 1914 had not gone far when the thinking
American foresaw that it would present to the American people
precisely this same problem. What would the decision be? Would
America repeat the experience of 1812, or had the teachings of
a century so dissipated hatreds that it would be able to exert
its influence in a way more worthy of itself and more helpful
to the progress of mankind?

<br><br>There was one great difference, however, between the position
of the United States in 1812 and its position in 1914. A century
ago we were a small and feeble nation, of undeveloped industries
and resources and of immature character; our entrance into the
European conflict, on one side or the other, could have little
influence upon its results, and, in fact, it influenced it scarcely
at all; the side we fought against emerged triumphant. In 1914,
we had the greatest industrial organization and the greatest wealth
of any nation and the largest white population of any country
except Russia; the energy of our people and our national talent
for success had long been the marvel of foreign observers. It
mattered little in 1812 on which side the United States took its
stand; in 1914 such a decision would. inevitably determine the
issue. Of all European statesmen there was one man who saw this
point with a definiteness which, in itself, gives him a clear
title to fame. That was Sir Edward Grey. The time came when a
section of the British public was prepared almost to stone the
Foreign Secretary in the streets of London, because they believed
that his &quot;subservience&quot; to American trade interests
was losing the war for Great Britain; his tenure of office was
a constant struggle with British naval and military chiefs who
asserted that the Foreign Office, in its efforts to maintain harmonious
relations with America, was hamstringing the British fleet, was
rendering almost impotent its control of the sea, and was thus
throwing away the greatest advantage which Great Britain possessed
in its life and death struggle. &quot;Some blight has been at
work in our Foreign Office for years,&quot; said the <I>Quarterly
Review, </I>&quot;steadily undermining our mastery of the sea.

<br><br>&quot;The fleet is not allowed to act,&quot; cried Lord Charles
Beresford in Parliament; the Foreign Office was constantly interfering
with its operations. The word &quot;traitor&quot; was not infrequently
heard; there were hints that pro-Germanism was rampant and that
officials in the Foreign Office were drawing their pay from the
Kaiser. It was constantly charged that the navy was bringing in
suspicious cargoes only to have the Foreign Office order their
release. &quot;I fight Sir Edward about stopping cargoes,&quot;
Page wrote to Colonel House in December, 1914; &quot;literally
fight. He yields and promises this or that. This or that doesn't
happen or only half happens. I know why. The military ministers
balk him. I inquire through the back door and hear that the Admiralty
and the War Office of course value American good-will, but they'll
take their chances of a quarrel with the United States rather
than let copper get to Germany. The cabinet has violent disagreements.
But the military men yield as little as possible. It was rumoured
the other day that the Prime Minister threatened to resign; and
I know that Kitchener's sister told her friends, with tears in
her eyes, that the cabinet shamefully hindered her brother.&quot;

<br><br>These criticisms unquestionably caused Sir Edward great unhappiness,
but this did not for a moment move him from his course. His vision
was fixed upon a much greater purpose. Parliamentary orators might
rage because the British fleet was not permitted to make indiscriminate
warfare on commerce, but the patient and far-seeing British Foreign
Secretary was the man who was really trying to win the war. He
was one of the few Englishmen who, in August, 1914, perceived
the tremendous extent of the struggle in which Great Britain had
engaged. He saw that the English people were facing the greatest
crisis since William of Normandy, in 1066, subjected their island
to foreign rule. Was England to become the &quot;Reichsland &quot;
of a European monarch, and was the British Empire to pass under
the sway of Germany? Proud as Sir Edward Grey was of his country,
he was modest in the presence of facts; and one fact of which
he early became convinced was that Great Britain could not win
unless the United States was ranged upon its side. Here was the
country---so Sir Edward reasoned---that contained the largest
effective white population in the world; that could train armies
larger than those of any other nation; that could make the most
munitions, build the largest number of battleships and merchant
vessels, and raise food in quantities great enough to feed itself
and Europe besides. This power, the Foreign Secretary believed,
could determine the issue of the war. If Great Britain secured
American sympathy and support, she would win; if Great Britain
lost this sympathy, and support, she would lose. A foreign policy
that would estrange the United States and perhaps even throw its
support to Germany would not only lose the war to Great Britain,
but it would be perhaps the blackest crime in history, for it
would mean the collapse of that British-American cooperation,
and the destruction of those British-American ideals and institutions
which are the greatest facts in the modern world. This conviction
was the basis of Sir Edward's policy from the day that Great Britain
declared war. Whatever enemies he might make in England, the Foreign
Secretary was determined to shape his course so that the support
of the United States would be assured to his country. A single
illustration shows the skill and wisdom with which he pursued
this great purpose.

<br><br>Perhaps nothing in the early days of the war enraged the British
military chiefs more than the fact that cotton was permitted to
go from the United States to Germany. That Germany. was using
this cotton in the manufacture of torpedoes to sink British ships
and of projectiles to kill British soldiers in trenches was well
known; nor did many people deny that Great Britain had the right
to put cotton on the contraband list. Yet Grey, in the pursuit
of his larger end, refused to take this step. He knew that the
prosperity of. the Southern States depended exclusively upon the
cotton crop. He also knew that the South had raised the 1914 crop
with no knowledge that a war was impending and that to deny the
Southern planters their usual access to the German markets would
all but ruin them. He believed that such a ruling would immediately
alienate the sympathy of a large section of the United States
and make our Southern Senators and Congressmen enemies of Great
Britain. Sir Edward was also completely informed of the extent
to which the German-Americans and the Irish-Americans were active
and he was familiar with the aims of American pacifists. He believed
that declaring cotton contraband at this time would bring together
in Congress the Southern Senators and Congressmen, the representatives
of the Irish and the German causes and the pacifists, and that
this combination would exercise an influence that would be disastrous
to Great Britain. Two dangers constantly haunted Sir Edward's
mind at this time. One was that the enemies of Great Britain would
assemble enough votes in Congress to place an embargo upon the
shipment of munitions from this country. Such an embargo might
well be fatal to Great Britain, for at this time she was importing
munitions, especially shells, in enormous quantities from the
United States. The other was that such pressure might force the
Government to convoy American cargoes with American warships.
Great Britain then could stop the cargoes only by attacking our
cruisers, and to attack a cruiser is an act of war. Had Congress
taken either one of these steps the Allies would have lost the
war in the spring of 1915. At a cabinet meeting held to consider
this question, Sir Edward Grey set forth this view and strongly
advised that cotton should not be made contraband at that time.(<A
NAME="n91"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#91">91</A>) The Cabinet
supported him and events justified the decision. Afterward, in
Washington, several of the most influential Senators informed
Sir Edward that this action had averted a great crisis.

<br><br>This was the motive, which, as will appear as the story of
our relations with Great Britain progresses, inspired the Foreign
Secretary in all his dealings with the United States. His purpose
was to use the sea power of Great Britain to keep war materials
and foodstuffs out of Germany, but never to go to the length of
making an unbridgeable gulf between the United States and Great
Britain. The American Ambassador to Great Britain completely sympathized
with this programme. It was Page's business to protect the rights
of the United States, just as it was Grey's to protect the rights
of Great Britain.

<br><br>Both were vigilant in protecting such rights, and animated
differences between the two men on this point were not infrequent.
Great Britain did many absurd and highhanded things in intercepting
American cargoes, and Page was always active in &quot;protesting&quot;
when the basis for the protest actually existed. But on the great
overhanging issue the two men were at one. Like Grey, Page believed
that there were more important things involved than an occasional
cargo of copper or of oil cake. The American Ambassador thought
that the United States should protect its shipping interests,
but that it should realize that maritime law was not an exact
science, that its principles had been modified by every great
conflict in which the blockade had been an effective agency, and
that the United States itself, in the Civil War, had not hesitated
to make such changes as the changed methods of modern transportation
had required. In other words he believed that we could safeguard
our rights in a way that would not prevent Great Britain from
keeping war materials and foodstuffs out of Germany. And like
Sir Edward Grey, Page was obliged to contend with forces at home
which maintained a contrary view. In this early period Mr. Bryan
was nominally Secretary of State, but the man who directed the
national policy in shipping matters was Robert Lansing, then counsellor
of the Department. It is somewhat difficult to appraise Mr. Lansing
justly, for in his conduct of his office there was not the slightest
taint of malice. His methods were tactless, the phrasing of his
notes lacked deftness and courtesy, his literary style was crude
and irritating; but Mr. Lansing was not anti-British, he was not
pro-German; he was nothing more nor less than a lawyer. The protection
of American rights at sea was to him simply a &quot;case&quot;
in which he had been retained as counsel for the plaintiff. As
a good lawyer it was his business to score as many points as possible
for his client and the more weak joints he found in the enemy's
armour the better did he do his job. It was his duty to scan the
law books, to look up the precedents, to examine facts, and to
prepare briefs that would be unassailable from a technical standpoint.
To Mr. Lansing this European conflict was the opportunity of a
lifetime. He had spent thirty years studying the intricate problems
that now became his daily companions. His mind revelled in such
minute details as ultimate destination, the continuous voyage
as applied to conditional contraband, the searching of cargoes
upon the high seas, belligerent trading through neutral ports,
war zones, orders in council, and all the other jargon of maritime
rights in time of war. These topics engrossed him as completely
as the extension of democracy and the significance of British-American
cooperation engrossed all the thoughts of Page and Grey.

<br><br>That Page took this larger view is evident from the communications
which he now began sending to the President. One that he wrote
on October 15, 1914, is especially to the point. The date is extremely
important; so early had Page formulated the standards that should
guide the United States and so early had he begun his work of
attempting to make President Wilson understand the real nature
of the conflict. The position which Page now assumed was one from
which he never departed.

<br><br>.

<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <P ALIGN=CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To the President</FONT></I>
  <br><br>In this great argument about shipping I cannot help being
  alarmed because we are getting into deep water uselessly. The
  Foreign Office has yielded unquestioningly to all our requests
  and has shown the sincerest wish to meet all our suggestions,
  so long as it is not called upon to admit war materials into
  Germany. It will not give way to us in that. We would not yield
  it if we were in their place. Neither would the Germans. England
  will risk a serious quarrel or even hostilities with us rather
  than yield. You may look upon this as the final word.
  <br><br>Since the last lists of contraband and conditional contraband
  were published, such materials as rubber and copper and petroleum
  have developed entirely new uses in war. The British simply will
  not let Germany import them. Nothing that can be used for war
  purposes in Germany now will be used for anything else. Representatives
  of Spain, Holland, and all the Scandinavian states agree that
  they can do nothing but acquiesce and file protests and claims,
  and they admit that Great Britain has the right to revise the
  list of contraband. This is not a war in the sense in which we
  have hitherto used that word. It is a world-clash of systems
  of government, a struggle to the extermination of English civilization
  or of Prussian military autocracy. Precedents have gone to the
  scrap heap. We have a new measure for military and diplomatic
  action. Let us suppose that we press for a few rights to which
  the shippers have a theoretical claim. The American people gain
  nothing and the result is friction with this country; and that
  is what a very small minority of the agitators in the United
  States would like. Great Britain can any day close the Channel
  to all shipping or can drive Holland to the enemy and blockade
  her ports.
  <br><br>Let us take a little farther view into the future. If Germany
  win, will it make any difference what position Great Britain
  took on the Declaration of London? The Monroe Doctrine will be
  shot through. We shall have to have a great army and a great
  navy. But suppose that England win. We shall then have an ugly
  academic dispute with her because of this controversy. Moreover,
  we shall not hold a good position for helping to compose the
  quarrel or for any other service.
  <br><br>The present controversy seems here, where we are close to
  the struggle, academic. It seems to us a petty matter when it
  is compared with the grave danger we incur of shutting ourselves
  off from a position to be of some service to civilization and
  to the peace of mankind.
  <br><br>In Washington you seem to be indulging in a more or less theoretical
  discussion. As we see the issue here, it is a matter of life
  and death for English-speaking civilization. It is not a happy
  time to raise controversies that can be avoided or postponed.
  We gain nothing, we lose every chance for useful cooperation
  for peace. In jeopardy also are our friendly relations with Great
  Britain in the sorest need and the greatest crisis in her history.
  I know that this is the correct view. I recommend most earnestly
  that we shall substantially accept the new Order in Council or
  acquiesce in it and reserve whatever rights we may have. I recommend
  prompt information be sent to the British Government of such
  action. I should like to inform Grey that this is our decision.
  <br><br>So far as our neutrality obligations are concerned, I do not
  believe that they require us to demand that Great Britain should
  adopt for our benefit the Declaration of London. Great Britain
  has never ratified it, nor have any other nations except the
  United States. In its application to the situation presented
  by this war it is altogether to the advantage of Germany.
  <br><br>I have delayed to write you this way too long. I have feared
  that I might possibly seem to be influenced by sympathy with
  England and by the atmosphere here. But I write of course solely
  with reference to our own country's interest and its position
  after the reorganization of Europe.
  <br><br>Anderson(<A NAME="n92"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#92">92</A>)
  and Laughlin(<A NAME="n93"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#93">93</A>)
  agree with me emphatically.
  <BLOCKQUOTE>
    <br><br>WALTER H. PAGE.</BLOCKQUOTE>
</BLOCKQUOTE>

<br><br>.

<P ALIGN=CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">II</FONT>

<br><br>The immediate cause of this protest was, as its context shows,
the fact that the State Department was insisting that Great Britain
should adopt the Declaration of London as a code of law for regulating
its warfare on German shipping. Hostilities had hardly started
when Mr. Bryan made this proposal; his telegram on this subject
is dated August 7, 1914. &quot;You will further state,&quot; said
Mr. Bryan, &quot;that this Government believes that the acceptance
of these laws by the belligerents would prevent grave misunderstandings
which may arise as to the relations between belligerents and neutrals.
It therefore hopes that this inquiry may receive favourable consideration.&quot;
At the same time Germany and the other belligerents were asked
to adopt this Declaration.

<br><br>The communication was thus more than a suggestion; it was a
recommendation that was strongly urged. According to Page this
telegram was the first great mistake the American Government made
in its relations with Great Britain. In September, 1916, the Ambassador
submitted to President Wilson a memorandum which he called &quot;Rough
notes toward an explanation of the British feeling toward the
United States.&quot; &quot;Of recent years,&quot; he said, &quot;and
particularly during the first year of the present Administration,
the British feeling toward the United States was most friendly
and cordial. About the time of the repeal of the tolls clause
in the Panama Act, the admiration and friendliness of the whole
British public (governmental and private) reached the highest
point in our history. In considering the change that has taken
place since, it is well to bear this cordiality in mind as a starting
point. When the war came on there was at first nothing to change
this attitude. The hysterical hope of many persons that our Government
might protest against the German invasion of Belgium caused some
feeling of disappointment, but thinking men did not share it;
and, if this had been the sole cause of criticism of us, the criticism
would have died out. The unusually high regard in which the President---and
hence our Government---was then held was to a degree new. The
British had for many years held the people of the United States
in high esteem: they had not, as a rule, so favourably regarded
the Government at Washington, especially in its conduct of foreign
relations. They had long regarded our Government as ignorant of
European affairs and amateurish in its cockiness. When I first
got to London I found evidence of this feeling, even in the most
friendly atmosphere that surrounded us. Mr. Bryan was looked on
as a joke. They forgot him---rather, they never took serious notice
of him. But, when the Panama tolls incident was closed, they regarded
the President as his own Foreign Secretary; and thus our Government
as well as our Nation came into this high measure of esteem.

<br><br>&quot;The war began. We, of course, took a neutral attitude,
wholly to their satisfaction. But we at once interfered---or tried
to interfere---by insisting on the Declaration of London, which
no Great Power but the United States (I think) had ratified and
which the British House of Lords had distinctly rejected. That
Declaration would probably have given a victory to Germany if
the Allies had adopted it. In spite of our neutrality we insisted
vigorously on its adoption and aroused a distrust in our judgment.
Thus we started in wrong, so far as the British Government is
concerned.&quot;

<br><br>The rules of maritime warfare which the American State Department
so disastrously insisted upon were the direct outcome of the Hague
Conference of 1907. That assembly of the nations recognized, what
had long been a palpable fact, that the utmost confusion existed
in the operations of warring powers upon the high seas. About
the fundamental principle that a belligerent had the right, if
it had the power, to keep certain materials of commerce from reaching
its enemy, there was no dispute. But as to the particular articles
which it could legally exclude there were as many different ideas
as there were nations. That the blockade, a term which means the
complete exclusion of cargoes and ships from an enemy's ports,
was a legitimate means of warfare, was also an accepted fact,
but as to the precise means in which the blockade could be enforced
there was the widest difference of opinion. The Hague Conference
provided that an attempt should be made to codify these laws into
a fixed system, and the representatives of the nations met in
London in 1908, under the presidency of the Earl of Desart, for
this purpose. The outcome of their two months' deliberations was
that document of seven chapters and seventy articles which has
ever since been known as the Declaration of London. Here at last
was the thing for which the world had been waiting so long---a
complete system of maritime law for the regulation of belligerents
and the protection of neutrals, which would be definitely binding
upon all nations because all nations were expected to ratify it.

<br><br>But the work of all these learned gentlemen was thrown away.
The United States was the only party to the negotiations that
put the stamp of approval upon its labours. All other nations
declined to commit themselves. In Great Britain the Declaration
had an especially interesting course. In that country it became
a football of party politics. The Liberal Government was at first
inclined to look upon it favourably; the Liberal House of Commons
actually ratified it. It soon became apparent, however, that this
vote did not represent the opinion of the British public. In fact,
few measures have ever aroused such hostility as this Declaration,
once its details became known. For more than a year the hubbub
against it filled the daily press, the magazines, the two Houses
of Parliament and the hustings; Rudyard Kipling even wrote a poem
denouncing it. The adoption of the Declaration, these critics
asserted, would destroy the usefulness of the British fleet. In
many quarters it was described as a German plot---as merely a
part of the preparations which Germany was making for world conquest.
The fact is that the Declaration could not successfully stand
the analysis to which it was now mercilessly submitted; the House
of Lords rejected it, and this action met with more approbation
than had for years been accorded the legislative pronouncements
of that chamber. The Liberal House of Commons was not in the least
dissatisfied with this conclusion, for it realized that it had
made a mistake and it was only too happy to be permitted to forget
it..

<br><br>When the war broke out there was therefore no single aspect
of maritime law which was quite so odious as the Declaration of
London. Great Britain realized that she could never win unless
her fleet were permitted to keep contraband out of Germany and,
if necessary, completely to blockade that country. The two greatest
conflicts of the nineteenth century were the European struggle
with Napoleon and the American Civil War. In both the blockade
had been the decisive element, and that this great agency would
similarly determine events in this even greater struggle was apparent.
What enraged the British public against any suggestion of the
Declaration was that it practically deprived Great Britain of
this indispensable means of weakening the enemy. In this Declaration
were drawn up lists of contraband, non-contraband, and conditional
contraband, and all of these, in English eyes, worked to the advantage
of Germany and against the advantage of Great Britain. How absurd
this classification was is evident from the fact that airplanes
were not listed as absolute contraband of war. Germany's difficulty
in getting copper was one of the causes of her collapse; yet the
Declaration put copper forever on the non-contraband list; had
this new code been adopted, Germany could have imported enormous
quantities from this country, instead of being compelled to reinforce
her scanty supply by robbing housewives of their kitchen utensils,
buildings of their hardware, and church steeples of their bells.
Germany's constant scramble for rubber formed a diverting episode
in the struggle; there are indeed few things so indispensable
in modern warfare; yet the Declaration included rubber among the
innocent articles and thus opened up to Germany the world's supply.
But the most serious matter was that the Declaration would have
prevented Great Britain from keeping foodstuffs out of the Fatherland.

<br><br>When Mr. Bryan, therefore, blandly asked Great Britain to accept
the Declaration as its code of maritime warfare, he was asking
that country to accept a document which Great Britain, in peace
time, had repudiated and which would, in all probability, have
caused that country to lose the war. The substance of this request
was bad enough, but the language in which it was phrased made
matters much worse. It appears that only the intervention of Colonel
House prevented the whole thing from becoming a tragedy.

<br><br>.

<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <P ALIGN=CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">From Edward M. House</FONT></I>
  <br><br>115 East 53rd Street,<BR>
  New York City.<BR>
  October 3, 1914.
  <br><br>His EXCELLENCY,<BR>
  The American Ambassador, <BR>
  London, England.
  <br><br>DEAR PAGE:
  <br><br>I have just returned from Washington where I was with the
  President for nearly four days. He is looking well and is well.
  Sometimes his spirits droop, but then, again, he is his normal
  self.
  <br><br>I had the good fortune to be there at a time when the discussion
  of the Declaration of London had reached a critical stage. Bryan
  was away and Lansing, who had not mentioned the matter to Sir
  Cecil,(<A NAME="n94"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#94">94</A>) prepared
  a long communication to you which he sent to the President for
  approval. The President and I went over it and I strongly urged
  not sending it until I could have a conference with Sir Cecil.
  I had this conference the next day without the knowledge of any
  one excepting the President, and had another the day following.
  Sir Cecil told me that if the dispatch had gone to you as written
  and you had shown it to Sir Edward Grey, it would almost have
  been a declaration of war; and that if, by any chance, the newspapers
  had got hold of it as they so often get things from our State
  Department, the greatest panic would have prevailed. He said
  it would have been the Venezuela incident magnified by present
  conditions.
  <br><br>At the President's suggestion, Lansing then prepared a cablegram
  to you. This, too, was objectionable and the President and I
  together softened it down into the one you received.
  <BLOCKQUOTE>
    <br><br>Faithfully yours,
    <br><br>E. M. HOUSE.</BLOCKQUOTE>
</BLOCKQUOTE>

<br><br>.

<br><br>In justice to Mr. Lansing, a passage in a later letter of Colonel
House must be quoted: &quot;It seems that Lansing did not write
the particular dispatch to you that was objected to. Someone else
prepared it and Lansing rather too hastily submitted it to the
President, with the result you know.&quot;

<br><br>This suppressed communication is probably for ever lost, but
its tenor may perhaps be gathered from instructions which were
actually sent to the Ambassador about this time. After eighteen
typewritten pages of not too urbanely expressed discussion of
the Declaration of London and the general subject of contraband,
Page was instructed to call the British Government's attention
to the consequences which followed shipping troubles in previous
times. It is hard to construe this in any other way than as a
threat to Great Britain of a repetition of 1812:

<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <br><br><I>Confidential. </I>You will not fail to impress upon His
  Excellency(<A NAME="n95"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#95">95</A>)
  the gravity of the issues which the enforcement of the Order
  in Council seems to presage, and say to him in substance as follows:
  <br><br>It is a matter of grave concern to this Government that the
  particular conditions of this unfortunate war should be considered
  by His Britannic Majesty's Government to be such as to justify
  them in advancing doctrines and advocating practices which in
  the past aroused strong opposition on the part of the Government
  of the United States, and bitter feeling among the American people.
  This Government feels bound to express the fear, though it does
  so reluctantly, that the publicity, which must be given to the
  rules which His Majesty's Government announce that they intend
  to enforce, will awaken memories of controversies, which it is
  the earnest desire of the United States to forget or to pass
  over in silence. . . .</BLOCKQUOTE>

<br><br>Germany, of course, promptly accepted the Declaration, for
the suggestion fitted in perfectly with her programme; but Great
Britain was not so acquiescent. Four times was Page instructed
to ask the British Government to accede unconditionally, and four
times did the Foreign Office refuse. Page was in despair. In the
following letter he notified Colonel House that if he were instructed
again to move in this matter he would resign his ambassadorship.

<br><br>.

<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <P ALIGN=CENTER><I><FONT SIZE="+1">To Edward M. House</FONT></I>
  <br><br>American Embassy, London, <BR>
  October 22, 1914.
  <br><br>DEAR HOUSE:
  <br><br>This is about the United States and England. Let's get that
  settled before we try our hands at making peace in Europe.
  <br><br>One of our greatest assets is the friendship of Great Britain,
  and our friendship is a still bigger asset for her, and she knows
  it and values it. Now, if either country should be damfool enough
  to throw this away because old Stone(<A NAME="n96"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#96">96</A>)
  roars in the Senate about something that hasn't happened, then
  this crazy world would be completely mad all round, and there
  would be no good-will left on earth at all.
  <br><br>The case is plain enough to me. England is going to keep war-materials
  out of Germany as far as she can. We'd do it in her place. Germany
  would do it. Any nation would do it. That's all she has declared
  her intention of doing. And, if she be let alone, she'll do it
  in a way to give us the very least annoyance possible; for she'll
  go any length to keep our friendship and good will. And <I>she
  has not confiscated a single one of our cargoes even of unconditional
  contraband. </I>She has stopped some of them and bought them
  herself, but confiscated not one. All right; what do we do? We
  set out on a comprehensive plan to regulate the naval warfare
  of the world and we up and ask 'em all, &quot;Now, boys, all
  be good, damn you, and agree to the Declaration of London.&quot;
  <br><br>&quot;Yah,&quot; says Germany, &quot;if England will.&quot;
  <br><br>Now Germany isn't engaged in naval warfare to count, and she
  never even paid the slightest attention to the Declaration all
  these years. But she saw that it would hinder England and help
  her now, by forbidding England to stop certain very important
  war materials from reaching Germany. &quot;Yah,&quot; said Germany.
  But England said that her Parliament had rejected the Declaration
  in times of peace and that she could now hardly be expected to
  adopt it in the face of this Parliamentary rejection. But, to
  please us, she agreed to adopt it with only two changes.
  <br><br>Then Lansing to the bat:
  <br><br>&quot;No, no,&quot; says Lansing, &quot;you've got to adopt
  it all.&quot;
  <br><br>Four times he's made me ask for its adoption, the last time
  coupled with a proposition that if England would adopt it, she
  might issue a subsequent proclamation saying that, since the
  Declaration is contradictory, she will construe it her own way,
  and the United States will raise no objection!
  <br><br>Then he sends eighteen pages of fine-spun legal arguments,
  (not all sound by any means) against the sections of the English
  proclamations that have been put forth, giving them a strained
  and unfriendly interpretation.
  <br><br>In a word, England has acted in a friendly way to us and will
  so act, if we allow her. But Lansing, instead of trusting to
  her good faith and reserving all our rights under international
  law and usage, imagines that he can force her to agree to a code
  that the Germans now agree to because, in Germany's present predicament,
  it will be especially advantageous to Germany. Instead of trusting
  her, he assumes that she means to do wrong and proceeds to try
  to bind her in advance. He hauls her up and tries her in court---that's
  his tone.
  <br><br>Now the relations that I have established with Sir Edward
  Grey have been built up on frankness, fairness and friendship.
  I can't have relations of any other sort nor can England and
  the United States have relations of any other sort. This is the
  place we've got to now. Lansing seems to assume that the way
  to an amicable agreement is through an angry controversy.
  <br><br>Lansing's method is the trouble. He treats Great Britain,
  to start with, as if she were a criminal and an opponent. That's
  the best way I know to cause trouble to American shipping and
  to bring back the good old days of mutual hatred and distrust
  for a generation or two. If that. isn't playing into the hands
  of the Germans, what would be? And where's the &quot;neutrality&quot;
  of this kind of action?
  <br><br>See here: If we let England go on, we can throw the whole
  responsibility on her and reserve all our rights under international
  law and usage and claim damages (and get 'em) for every act of
  injury, if acts of injury occur; and we can keep her friendship
  and good-will. Every other neutral nation is doing that. Or we
  can insist on regulating all naval warfare and have a quarrel
  and refer it to a Bryan-Peace-Treaty Commission and claim at
  most the self-same damages with a less chance to get 'em. We
  can get damages without a quarrel; or we can have a quarrel and
  probably get damages. Now, why, in God's name, should we provoke
  a quarrel?
  <br><br>The curse of the world is little men who for an imagined small
  temporary advantage throw away the long growth of good-will nurtured
  by wise and patient men and who cannot see the lasting and far
  greater future evil they do. Of all the years since 1776 this
  great war-year is the worst to break the 100 years of our peace,
  or even to ruffle it. I pray you, good friend, get us out of
  these incompetent lawyer-hands.
  <br><br>Now about the peace of Europe. Nothing can yet be done, perhaps
  nothing now can ever be done by us. The Foreign Office doubts
  our wisdom and prudence since Lansing came into action. The whole
  atmosphere is changing. One more such move and they will conclude
  that Dernburg and Bernstorff have seduced us---without our knowing
  it, to be sure; but their confidence in our judgment will be
  gone. God knows I have tried to keep this confidence intact and
  our good friendship secure. But I have begun to get despondent
  over the outlook since the President telegraphed me that Lansing's
  proposal would settle the matter. I still believe he did not
  understand it---he couldn't have done so. Else he could not have
  approved it. But that tied my hands. If Lansing again brings
  up the Declaration of London---after four flat and reasonable
  rejections---I shall resign. I will not be the instrument of
  a perfectly gratuitous and ineffective insult to this patient
  and fair and friendly government and people who in my time have
  done us many kindnesses and never an injury but Carden,(<A NAME="n97"></A><A
  HREF="Pagenotes.htm#97">97</A>) and who sincerely try now to
  meet our wishes. It would be too asinine an act ever to merit
  forgiveness or ever to be forgotten. I should blame myself the
  rest of my life. It would grieve Sir Edward more than anything
  except this war. It would knock the management of foreign affairs
  by this Administration into the region of sheer idiocy. I'm afraid
  any peace talk from. us, as it is, would merely be whistling
  down the wind. If we break with England-not on any case or act
  of violence to our shipping-but on a useless discussion, in advance,
  of general principles of conduct during the war---just for a
  discussion---we've needlessly thrown away our great chance to
  be of some service to this world gone mad. If Lansing isn't stopped,
  that's what he will do. Why doesn't the President see Spring
  Rice? Why don't you take him to see him?
  <br><br>Good night, my good friend. I still have hope that the President
  himself will take this in hand.
  <BLOCKQUOTE>
    <br><br>Yours always,
    <br><br>W. H. P.</BLOCKQUOTE>
</BLOCKQUOTE>

<br><br>.

<br><br>The letters and the cablegrams which Page was sending to Colonel
House and the State Department at this time evidently ended the
matter. By the middle of October the two nations were fairly deadlocked.
Sir Edward Grey's reply to the American proposal had been an acceptance
of the Declaration of London with certain modifications. For the
list of contraband in the Declaration he had submitted the list
already adopted by Great Britain in its Order in Council, and
he had also rejected that article which made it impossible for
Great Britain to apply the doctrine of &quot;continuous voyage&quot;
to conditional contraband. The modified acceptance, declared Mr.
Lansing, was a practical rejection---as of course it was, and
as it was intended to be. So the situation remained for several
exciting weeks, the State Department insisting on the Declaration
in full, precisely as the legal luminaries had published it five
years before, the Foreign Office courteously but inflexibly refusing
to accede. Only the cordial personal relations which prevailed
between Grey and Page prevented the crisis from producing the
most disastrous results. Finally, on October 17th, Page proposed
by cable an arrangement which he hoped would settle the matter.
This was that the King should issue a proclamation accepting the
Declaration with practically the modifications suggested above,
and that a new Order in Council should be issued containing a
new list of contraband. Sir Edward Grey was not to ask the American
Government to accept this proclamation; all that he asked was
that Washington should offer no objections to it. It was proposed
that the United States at the same time should publish a note
withdrawing its suggestion for the adoption of the Declaration,
and explaining that it proposed to rest the rights of its citizens
upon the existing rules of international law and the treaties
of the United States. This solution was accepted. It was a defeat
for Mr. Lansing, of course, but he had no alternative. The relief
that Page felt is shown in the following memorandum, written soon
after the tension had ceased:

<BLOCKQUOTE>
  <br><br>&quot;That insistence on the Declaration entire came near
  to upsetting the whole kettle of fish. It put on me the task
  of insisting on a general code---at a time when the fiercest
  war in history was every day becoming fiercer and more desperate---which
  would have prevented the British from putting on their contraband
  list several of the most important war materials---accompanied
  by a proposal that would have angered every neutral nation through
  which supplies can possibly reach Germany and prevented this
  Government from making friendly working arrangements with them;
  and, after Sir Edward Grey had flatly declined for these reasons,
  I had to continue to insist. I confess it did look as if we were
  determined to dictate to him how he should conduct the war---and
  in a way that distinctly favoured the Germans.
  <br><br>&quot;I presented every insistence; for I should, of course,
  not have been excusable if I had failed in any case vigorously
  to carry out my instructions. But every time I plainly saw matters
  getting worse and worse; and I should have failed of my duty
  also if I had not so informed the President and the Department.
  I can conceive of no more awkward situation for an Ambassador
  or for any other man under Heaven. I turned the whole thing over
  in my mind backward and forward a hundred times every day. For
  the first time in this stress and strain, I lost my appetite
  and digestion and did not know the day of the week nor what month
  it was---seeing the two governments rushing toward a very serious
  clash, which would have made my mission a failure and done the
  Administration much hurt, and have sowed the seeds of bitterness
  for generations to come.
  <br><br>&quot;One day I said to Anderson (whose assistance is in many
  ways invaluable): 'Of course nobody is infallible---least of
  all we. Is it possible that we are mistaken? You and Laughlin
  and I, who are close to it all, are absolutely agreed. But may
  there not be some important element in the problem that we do
  not see? Summon and nurse every doubt that you can possibly muster
  up of the correctness of our view, put yourself on the defensive,
  recall every mood you may have had of the slightest hesitation,
  and tell me to-morrow of every possible weak place there may
  be in our judgment and conclusions.' The next day Anderson handed
  me seventeen reasons why it was unwise to persist in this demand
  for the adoption of the Declaration of London. Laughlin gave
  a similar opinion. I swear I spent the night in searching every
  nook and corner of my mind and I was of the same opinion the
  next morning. There was nothing to do then but the most unwelcome
  double duty: (1) Of continuing to carry out instructions, at
  every step making a bad situation worse and running the risk
  of a rupture (which would be the only great crime that now remains
  uncommitted in the world); and (2) of trying to persuade our
  own Government that this method was the wrong method to pursue.
  I know it is not my business to make policies, but I conceive
  it to be my business to report when they fail or succeed. Now
  if I were commanded to look throughout the whole universe for
  the most unwelcome task a man may have, I think I should select
  this. But, after all, a man has nothing but his own best judgment
  to guide him; and, if he follow that and fail---that's all he
  can do. I do reverently thank God that we gave up that contention.
  We may have trouble yet, doubtless we shall, but it will not
  be trouble of our own making, as that was.
  <br><br>&quot;Tyrrell(<A NAME="n98"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#98">98</A>)
  came into the reception room at the Foreign Office the day after
  our withdrawal, while I was waiting to see Sir Edward Grey, and
  he said: 'I wish to tell you personally---just privately between
  you and me---how infinite a relief it is to us all that your
  Government has withdrawn that demand. We couldn't accept it;
  our refusal was not stubborn nor pig-headed: it was a physical
  necessity in order to carry on the war with any hope of success.'
  <br><br>Then, as I was going out, he volunteered this remark: 'I make
  this guess---that that programme was not the work of the President
  but of some international prize court enthusiast (I don't know
  who) who had failed to secure the adoption of the Declaration
  when parliaments and governments could discuss it at leisure
  and who hoped to jam it through under the pressure of war and
  thus get his prize court international.' I made no answer for
  several reasons, one of which is, I do not know whose programme
  it was. All that I know is that I have here, on my desk at my
  house, a locked dispatch book half full of telegrams and letters
  insisting on it, which I do not wish (now at least) to put in
  the Embassy files, and the sight of which brings the shuddering
  memory of the worst nightmare I have ever suffered.
  <br><br>&quot;Now we can go on, without being a party to any general
  programme, but in an independent position vigorously stand up
  for every right and privilege under law and usage and treaties;
  and we have here a government that we can deal with frankly and
  not (I hope) in a mood to suspect us of wishing to put it at
  a disadvantage for the sake of a general code or doctrine. A
  land and naval and air and submarine battle (the greatest battle
  in the history of the belligerent race of man) within 75 miles
  of the coast of England, which hasn't been invaded since 1066
  and is now in its greatest danger since that time; and this is
  no time I fear, to force a great body of doctrine on Great Britain.
  God knows I'm afraid some American boat will run on a mine somewhere
  in the Channel or the North Sea. There's war there as there is
  on land in Germany. Nobody tries to get goods through on land
  on the continent, and they make no complaints that commerce is
  stopped. Everybody tries to ply the Channel and the North Sea
  as usual, both of which have German and English mines and torpedo
  craft and submarines almost as thick as batteries along the hostile
  camps on land. The British Government (which now issues marine
  insurance) will not insure a British boat to carry food to Holland
  en route to the starving Belgians; and I hear that no government
  and no insurance company will write insurance for anything going
  across the North Sea. I wonder if the extent and ferocity and
  danger of this war are fully realized in the United States?
  <br><br>&quot;There is no chance yet effectively to talk of peace.(<A
  NAME="n99"></A><A HREF="Pagenotes.htm#99">99</A>) The British
  believe that their civilization and their Empire are in grave
  danger. They are drilling an army of a million men here for next
  spring; more and more troops come from all the Colonies, where
  additional enlistments are going on. They feel that to stop before
  a decisive result is reached would simply be provoking another
  war, after a period of dread such as they have lived through
  the last ten years; a large and increasing proportion of the
  letters you see are on black-bordered paper and this whole island
  is becoming a vast hospital and prisoners' camp---all which,
  so far from bringing them to think of peace, urges them to renewed
  effort; and all the while the bitterness grows.
  <br><br>&quot;The Straus incident, produced the impression here that
  it was a German trick to try to shift the responsibility of continuing
  the war, to the British shoulders. Mr. Sharp's bare mention of
  peace in Paris caused the French censor to forbid the transmission
  of a harmless interview; and our insistence on the Declaration
  left, for the time being at least, a distinct distrust of our
  judgment and perhaps even of our good-will. It was suspected---I
  am sure---that the German influence in Washington had un.wittingly
  got influence over the Department. The atmosphere (toward me)
  is as different now from what it was a week ago as Arizona sunshine
  is from a London fog, as much as to say, 'After all, perhaps,
  you don't <I>mean </I>to try to force us to play into the hands
  of our enemies!' &quot;</BLOCKQUOTE>

<br><br>.

<P ALIGN=CENTER><FONT SIZE="+2">III</FONT>

<br><br>And so this crisis was passed; it was the first great service
that Page had rendered the cause of the Allies and his own country.
Yet shipping difficulties had their more agreeable aspects. Had
it not been for the fact that both Page and Grey had an understanding
sense of humour, neutrality would have proved a more difficult
path than it actually was. Even amid the tragic problems with
which these two men were dealing there was not lacking an occasional
moment's relaxation into the lighter aspect of things. One of
the curious memorials preserved in the British Foreign Office
is the cancelled $15,000,000 check with which Great Britain paid
the <I>Alabama </I>claims. That the British should frame this
memento of their great diplomatic defeat and hang it in the Foreign
Office is an evidence of the fact that in statesmanship, as in
less exalted matters, the English are excellent sportsmen. The
real justification of the honour paid to this piece of paper,
of course, is that the settlement of the <I>Alabama </I>claims
by arbitration signalized a great forward step in international
relations and did much to heal a century's troubles between the
United States and Great Britain. Sir Edward Grey used frequently
to call Page's attention to this document. It represented the
amount of money, then considered large, which Great Britain had
paid the United States for the depredations on American shipping
for which she was responsible during the Civil War.

<br><br>One day the two men were discussing certain detentions of American
cargoes---high-handed acts which, in Page's opinion, were unwarranted.
Not infrequently, in the heat of discussion, Page would get up
and pace the floor. And on this occasion his body, as well as
his mind, was in a state of activity. Suddenly his eye was attracted
by the framed Alabama check. He leaned over, peered at it intensely,
and then quickly turned to the Foreign Secretary:

<br><br>&quot;If you don't stop these seizures, Sir Edward, some day
you'll have your entire room papered with things like that!&quot;

<br><br>Not long afterward Sir Edward in his turn scored on Page. The
Ambassador called to present one of the many State Department
notes. The occasion was an embarrassing one, for the communication
was written in the Department's worst literary style. It not infrequently
happened that these notes, in the form in which Page received
them, could not be presented to the British Government; they were
so rasping and undiplomatic that Page feared that he would suffer
the humiliation of having them returned, for there are certain
things which no self-respecting Foreign Office will accept. On
such occasions it was the practice of the London Embassy to smooth
down the language before handing the paper to the Foreign Secretary.
The present note was one of this kind; but Page, because of his
friendly relations with Grey, decided to transmit the communication
in its original shape.

<br><br>Sir Edward glanced over the document, looked up, and remarked,
with a twinkle in his eye,

<br><br>&quot;This reads as though they thought that they are still
talking to George the Third.&quot;

<br><br>The roar of laughter that followed was something quite unprecedented
amid the thick and dignified walls of the Foreign Office.

<br><br>One of Page's most delicious moments came, however, after the
Ministry of Blockade had been formed, with Lord Robert Cecil in
charge. Lord Robert was high minded and conciliatory, but his
knowledge of American history was evidently not without its lapses.
One day, in discussing the ill-feeling aroused in the United States
by the seizure of American cargoes, Page remarked banteringly:

<br><br>&quot;You must not forget the Boston Tea Party, Lord Robert.&quot;

<br><br>The Englishman looked up, rather puzzled.

<br><br>&quot;But you must remember, Mr. Page, that I have never been
in Boston. I have never attended a tea party there.&quot;

<br><br>It has been said that the tact and good sense of Page and Grey,
working sympathetically for the same end, avoided many an impending
crisis. The trouble caused early in 1915 by the ship <I>Dacia
</I>and the way in which the difficulty was solved, perhaps illustrate
the value of this cooperation at its best. In the early days of
the War Congress passed a bill admitting foreign ships to American
registry. The wisdom and even the &quot;neutrality&quot; of such
an act were much questioned at the time. Colonel House, in one
of his early telegrams to the President, declared that this bill
&quot;is full of lurking dangers.&quot; Colonel House was right.
The trouble was that many German merchant ships were interned
in American harbours, fearing to put to sea, where the watchful
British warships lay waiting for them. Any attempt to place these
vessels under the American flag, and to use them for trade between
American and German ports, would at once cause a crisis with the
Allies, for such a paper change in ownership would be altogether
too transparent. Great Britain viewed this legislation with disfavour,
but did not think it politic to protest such transfers generally;
Spring Rice contented himself with informing the State Department
that his government would not object so long as this changed status
did not benefit Germany. If such German ships, after being transferred
to the American flag, engaged in commerce between American ports
and South American ports, or other places remotely removed from
the Fatherland, Great Britain would make no difficulty. The <I>Dacia,
</I>a merchantman of the Hamburg-America line, had been lying
at her wharf in Port Arthur, Texas, since the outbreak of the
war. In early January, 1915, she was purchased by Mr. E. N. Breitung,
of Marquette, Michigan. Mr. Breitung caused great excitement in
the newspapers when he announced that he had placed the <I>Dacia
</I>under American registry, according to the terms of this new
law, had put upon her an American crew, and that he proposed to
load her with cotton and sail for Germany. The crisis had now
arisen which the well-wishers of Great Britain and the United
States had so dreaded. Great Britain's position was a difficult
one. If it acquiesced, the way would be opened for placing under
American registry all the German and Austrian ships that were
then lying unoccupied in American ports and using them in trade
between the United States and the Central Powers. If Great Britain
seized the <I>Dacia, </I>then there was the likelihood that this
would embroil her with the American Government-and this would
serve German purposes quite as well.

<br><br>Sir Cecil. Spring Rice, the British Ambassador at Washington,
at once notified Washington that the <I>Dacia </I>would be seized
if she sailed for a German port. The cotton which she intended
to carry was at that time not contraband, but the vessel itself
was German and was thus subject to apprehension as enemy property.
The seriousness of this position was that technically the Dacia
was now an American ship, for an American citizen owned her, she
carried an American crew, she bore on her flagstaff the American
flag, and she had been admitted to American registry under a law
recently passed by Congress. How could the United States sit by
quietly and permit this seizure to take place? When the <I>Dacia</I>
sailed on January 23rd the excitement was keen; the voyage had
obtained a vast amount of newspaper advertising, and the eyes
of the world were fixed upon her. German sympathizers attributed
the attitude of the American Government in permitting the vessel
to sail as a &quot;dare&quot; to Great Britain, and the fact that
Great Britain had announced her intention of taking up this &quot;dare&quot;
made the situation still more tense.

<br><br>When matters had reached this pass Page one day dropped into
the Foreign Office.

<br><br>&quot;Have you ever heard of the British fleet, Sir Edward?&quot;
he asked.

<br><br>Grey admitted that he had, though the question obviously puzzled
him.

<br><br>&quot;Yes,&quot; Page went on musingly. &quot;We've all heard
of the British fleet. Perhaps we have heard too much about it.
Don't you think it's had too much advertising?&quot;

<br><br>The Foreign Secretary looked at Page with an expression that
implied a lack of confidence in his sanity.

<br><br>&quot;But have you ever heard of the French fleet?&quot; the
American went on. &quot;France has a fleet too, I believe.&quot;

<br><br>Sir Edward granted that.

<br><br>&quot;Don't you think that the French fleet ought to have a
little advertising?&quot;

<br><br>&quot;What on earth are you talking about?&quot;

<br><br>&quot;Well,&quot; said Page, &quot;there's the <I>Dacia</I>.
Why not let the French fleet seize it and get some advertising?&quot;

<br><br>A gleam of understanding immediately shot across Grey's face.
The old familiar twinkle came into his eye.

<br><br>&quot;Yes,&quot; he said, &quot;why not let the Belgian royal
yacht seize it?&quot;

<br><br>This suggestion from Page was one of the great inspirations
of the war. It amounted to little less than genius. By this time
Washington was pretty wearied of the <I>Dacia</I>, for mature
consideration had convinced the Department that Great Britain
had the right on its side. Washington would have been only too
glad to find a way out of the difficult position into which it
had been forced, and this Page well understood. But this government
always finds itself in an awkward plight in any controversy with
Great Britain, because the hyphenates raise such a noise that
it has difficulty in deciding such disputes upon their merits.
To ignore the capture of this ship by the British would have brought
all this hullabaloo again about the ears of the Administration.
But the position of France is entirely different; the memories
of Lafayette and Rochambeau still exercise a profound spell on
the American mind; France does not suffer from the persecution
of hyphenate populations, and Americans will stand even outrages
from France without getting excited. Page knew that if the British
seized the <I>Dacia</I>, the cry would go up in certain quarters
for immediate war, but that, if France committed the same crime,
the guns of the adversary would be spiked. It was purely a case
of sentiment and &quot;psychology.&quot; And so the event proved.
His suggestion was at once acted on; a French cruiser went out
into the Channel, seized the offending ship, took it into port,
where a French prize court promptly condemned it. The proceeding
did not cause even a ripple of hostility. The <I>Dacia</I> was
sold to Frenchmen, rechristened the <I>Yser</I> and put to work
in the Mediterranean trade. The episode was closed in the latter
part of 1915 when a German submarine torpedoed the vessel and
sent it to the bottom.

<br><br>Such was the spirit which Page and Sir Edward Grey brought
to the solution of the shipping problems of 1914-1917. There is
much more to tell of this great task of &quot;waging neutrality,&quot;
and it will be told in its proper place. But already it is apparent
to what extent these two men served the cause of English-speaking
civilization. Neither would quibble or uphold an argument which
he thought unjust, even though his nation might gain in a material
sense, and neither would pitch the discussion in any other key
than forbearance and mutual accommodation and courtliness. For
both men had the same end in view. They were both thinking, not
of the present, but of the coming centuries. The cooperation of
the two nations in meeting the dangers of autocracy and Prussian
barbarism, in laying the foundations of a future in which peace,
democracy, and international justice should be the directing ideas
of human society--such was the ultimate purpose at which these
two statesmen aimed. And no men have ever been more splendidly
justified by events. The Anglo-American situation of 1914 contained
dangers before which all believers in real progress now shudder.
Had Anglo-American diplomacy been managed with less skill and
consideration, the United States and Great Britain would have
become involved in a quarrel beside which all their previous differences
would have appeared insignificant. Mutual hatreds and hostilities
would have risen that would have prevented the entrance of the
United States into the war on the side of the Allies. It is not
inconceivable that the history of 1812 would have been repeated,
and that the men and resources of this country might have been
used to support purposes which have always been hateful to the
American conscience. That the world was saved from this calamity
is owing largely to the fact that Great Britain had in its Foreign
Office a man who was always solving temporary irritations with
his eyes constantly fixed upon a great goal, and that the United
States had as ambassador in London a man who had the most exalted
view of the mission of his country, who had dedicated his life
to the world-wide spread of the American ideal, and who believed
that an indispensable part of this work was the maintenance of
a sympathetic and helpful cooperation with the English-speaking
peoples.

<P ALIGN=CENTER><HR>

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