Volume I Part 26 (1/2)
The hotel gave the use of nearly a whole floor. They organized themselves quickly and admirably and got information about steams.h.i.+ps and currency, etc. We began to send callers at the Emba.s.sy to this Committee for such information. The banks were all closed for four days. These men got money enough--put it up themselves and used their English banking friends for help--to relieve all cases of actual want of cash that came to them. Tuesday the crowd at the Emba.s.sy was still great but smaller. The big s.p.a.ce at the Savoy Hotel gave them room to talk to one another and to get relief for immediate needs. By that time I had accepted the volunteer services of five or six men to help us explain to the people--and they have all worked manfully day and night. We now have an orderly organization at four places: The Emba.s.sy, the Consul-General's Office, the Savoy, and the American Society in London, and everything is going well. Those two first days, there was, of course, great confusion. Crazy men and weeping women were imploring and cursing and demanding--G.o.d knows it was bedlam turned loose. I have been called a man of the greatest genius for an emergency by some, by others a d.a.m.ned fool, by others every epithet between these extremes. Men shook English banknotes in my face and demanded United States money and swore our Government and its agents ought all to be shot. Women expected me to hand them steams.h.i.+p tickets home. When some found out that they could not get tickets on the transports (which they a.s.sumed would sail the next day) they accused me of favouritism. These absurd experiences will give you a hint of the panic. But now it has worked out all right, thanks to the Savoy Committee and other helpers.
Meantime, of course, our telegrams and mail increased almost as much as our callers. I have filled the place with stenographers, I have got the Savoy people to answer certain cla.s.ses of letters, and we have caught up. My own time and the time of two of the secretaries has been almost wholly taken with governmental problems; hundreds of questions have come in from every quarter that were never asked before. But even with them we have now practically caught up--it has been a wonderful week!
Then the Austrian Amba.s.sador came to give up his Emba.s.sy--to have me take over his business. Every detail was arranged. The next morning I called on him to a.s.sume charge and to say good-bye, when he told me that he was not yet going! That was a stroke of genius by Sir Edward Grey, who informed him that Austria had not given England cause for war. That _may_ work out, or it may not. Pray Heaven it may! Poor Mensdorff, the Austrian Amba.s.sador, does not know where he is. He is practically shut up in his guarded Emba.s.sy, weeping and waiting the decree of fate.
Then came the declaration of war, most dramatically. Tuesday night, five minutes after the ultimatum had expired, the Admiralty telegraphed to the fleet ”Go.” In a few minutes the answer came back ”Off.” Soldiers began to march through the city going to the railway stations. An indescribable crowd so blocked the streets about the Admiralty, the War Office, and the Foreign Office, that at one o'clock in the morning I had to drive in my car by other streets to get home.
The next day the German Emba.s.sy was turned over to me. I went to see the German Amba.s.sador at three o'clock in the afternoon. He came down in his pajamas, a crazy man. I feared he might literally go mad. He is of the anti-war party and he had done his best and utterly failed. This interview was one of the most pathetic experiences of my life. The poor man had not slept for several nights. Then came the crowds of frightened Germans, afraid that they would be arrested. They besieged the German Emba.s.sy and our Emba.s.sy. I put one of our naval officers in the German Emba.s.sy, put the United States seal on the door to protect it, and we began business there, too. Our naval officer has moved in--sleeps there.
He has an a.s.sistant, a stenographer, a messenger: and I gave him the German automobile and chauffeur and two English servants that were left there. He has the job well in hand now, under my and Laughlin's supervision. But this has brought still another new lot of diplomatic and governmental problems--a lot of them. Three enormous German banks in London have, of course, been closed. Their managers pray for my aid. Howling women come and say their innocent German husbands have been arrested as spies. English, Germans, Americans--everybody has daughters and wives and invalid grandmothers alone in Germany. In G.o.d's name, they ask, what can I do for them? Here come stacks of letters sent under the impression that I can send them to Germany. But the German business is already well in hand and I think that that will take little of my own time and will give little trouble. I shall send a report about it in detail to the Department the very first day I can find time to write it. In spite of the effort of the English Government to remain at peace with Austria, I fear I shall yet have the Austrian Emba.s.sy too. But I can attend to it.
Now, however, comes the financial job of wisely using the $300,000 which I shall have to-morrow. I am using Mr. Chandler Anderson as counsel, of course. I have appointed a Committee--Skinner, the Consul-General, Lieut.-Commander McCrary of our Navy, Kent of the Bankers Trust Company, New York, and one other man yet to be chosen--to advise, after investigation, about every proposed expenditure. Anderson has been at work all day to-day drawing up proper forms, etc., to fit the Department's very excellent instructions. I have the feeling that more of that money may be wisely spent in helping to get people off the continent (except in France, where they seem admirably to be managing it, under Herrick) than is immediately needed in England. All this merely to show you the diversity and multiplicity of the job.
I am having a card catalogue, each containing a sort of who's who, of all Americans in Europe of whom we hear. This will be ready by the time the _Tennessee_[62] comes. Fifty or more stranded Americans--men and women--are doing this work free.
I have a member of Congress[63] in the general reception room of the Emba.s.sy answering people's questions--three other volunteers as well.
We had a world of confusion for two or three days. But all this work is now well organized and it can be continued without confusion or cross purposes. I meet committees and lay plans and read and write telegrams from the time I wake till I go to bed.
But, since it is now all in order, it is easy. Of course I am running up the expenses of the Emba.s.sy--there is no help for that; but the bill will be really exceedingly small because of the volunteer work--for awhile. I have not and shall not consider the expense of whatever it seems absolutely necessary to do--of other things I shall always consider the expense most critically.
Everybody is working with everybody else in the finest possible spirit. I have made out a sort of military order to the Emba.s.sy staff, detailing one man with clerks for each night and forbidding the others to stay there till midnight. None of us slept more than a few hours last week. It was not the work that kept them after the first night or two, but the sheer excitement of this awful cataclysm. All London has been awake for a week. Soldiers are marching day and night; immense throngs block the streets about the government offices. But they are all very orderly. Every day Germans are arrested on suspicion; and several of them have committed suicide. Yesterday one poor American woman yielded to the excitement and cut her throat. I find it hard to get about much.
People stop me on the street, follow me to luncheon, grab me as I come out of any committee meeting--to know my opinion of this or that--how can they get home? Will such-and-such a boat fly the American flag? Why did I take the German Emba.s.sy? I have to fight my way about and rush to an automobile. I have had to buy me a second one to keep up the racket. Buy?--no--only bargain for it, for I have not any money. But everybody is considerate, and that makes no matter for the moment. This little cottage in an out-of-the-way place, twenty-five miles from London, where I am trying to write and sleep, has been found by people to-day, who come in automobiles to know how they may reach their sick kinspeople in Germany. I have not had a bath for three days: as soon as I got in the tub, the telephone rang an ”urgent” call!
[Ill.u.s.tration: No. 6 Grosvenor Square, the American Emba.s.sy under Mr. Page]
[Ill.u.s.tration: Irwin Laughlin, Secretary of the American Emba.s.sy at Longon, 1912-1917, Counsellor 1916-1919].
Upon my word, if one could forget the awful tragedy, all this experience would be worth a lifetime of commonplace. One surprise follows another so rapidly that one loses all sense of time: it seems an age since last Sunday. I shall never forget Sir Edward Grey's telling me of the ultimatum--while he wept; nor the poor German Amba.s.sador who has lost in his high game--almost a demented man; nor the King as he declaimed at me for half-an-hour and threw up his hands and said, ”My G.o.d, Mr. Page, what else could we do?”
Nor the Austrian Amba.s.sador's wringing his hands and weeping and crying out, ”My dear Colleague, my dear Colleague.”
Along with all this tragedy come two reverend American peace delegates who got out of Germany by the skin of their teeth and complain that they lost all the clothes they had except what they had on. ”Don't complain,” said I, ”but thank G.o.d you saved your skins.” Everybody has forgotten what war means--forgotten that folks get hurt. But they are coming around to it now. A United States Senator telegraphs me: ”Send my wife and daughter home on the first s.h.i.+p.” Ladies and gentlemen filled the steerage of that s.h.i.+p--not a bunk left; and his wife and daughter are found three days later sitting in a swell hotel waiting for me to bring them stateroom tickets on a silver tray! One of my young fellows in the Emba.s.sy rushes into my office saying that a man from Boston, with letters of introduction from Senators and Governors and Secretaries, et al., was demanding tickets of admission to a picture gallery, and a secretary to escort him there.
”What shall I do with him?”
”Put his proposal to a vote of the 200 Americans in the room and see them draw and quarter him.”
I have not yet heard what happened. A woman writes me four pages to prove how dearly she loves my sister and invites me to her hotel--five miles away--”please to tell her about the sailing of the steams.h.i.+ps.” Six American preachers pa.s.s a resolution unanimously ”urging our Amba.s.sador to telegraph our beloved, peace-loving President to stop this awful war”; and they come with simple solemnity to present their resolution. Lord save us, what a world!
And this awful tragedy moves on to--what? We do not know what is really happening, so strict is the censors.h.i.+p. But it seems inevitable to me that Germany will be beaten, that the horrid period of alliances and armaments will not come again, that England will gain even more of the earth's surface, that Russia may next play the menace; that all Europe (as much as survives) will be bankrupt; that relatively we shall be immensely stronger financially and politically--there must surely come many great changes--very many, yet undreamed of. Be ready; for you will be called on to compose this huge quarrel. I thank Heaven for many things--first, the Atlantic Ocean; second, that you refrained from war in Mexico; third, that we kept our treaty--the ca.n.a.l tolls victory, I mean. Now, when all this half of the world will suffer the unspeakable brutalization of war, we shall preserve our moral strength, our political powers, and our ideals.
G.o.d save us!
W.H.P.
Vivid as is the above letter, it lacks several impressive details.
Probably the one event that afterward stood out most conspicuously in Page's mind was his interview with Sir Edward Grey, the Foreign Secretary. Sir Edward asked the American Amba.s.sador to call Tuesday afternoon; his purpose was to inform him that Great Britain had sent an ultimatum to Germany. By this time Page and the Foreign Secretary had established not only cordial official relations but a warm friends.h.i.+p.
The two men had many things in common; they had the same general outlook on world affairs, the same ideas of justice and fair dealing, the same belief that other motives than greed and aggrandizement should control the att.i.tude of one nation to another. The political tendencies of both men were idealistic; both placed character above everything else as the first requisite of a statesman; both hated war, and looked forward to the time when more rational methods of conducting international relations would prevail. Moreover, their purely personal qualities had drawn Sir Edward and Page closely together. A common love of nature and of out-of-door life had made them akin; both loved trees, birds, flowers, and hedgerows; the same intellectual diversions and similar tastes in reading had strengthened the tie. ”I could never mention a book I liked that Mr. Page had not read and liked too,” Sir Edward Grey once remarked to the present writer, and the enthusiasm that both men felt for Wordsworth's poetry in itself formed a strong bond of union.
The part that the American Amba.s.sador had played in the repeal of the Panama discrimination had also made a great impression upon this British statesman--a man to whom honour means more in international dealings than any other consideration. ”Mr. Page is one of the finest ill.u.s.trations I have ever known,” Grey once said, ”of the value of character in a public man.” In their intercourse for the past year the two men had grown accustomed to disregard all pretense of diplomatic technique; their discussions had been straightforward man-to-man talks; there had been nothing suggestive of pose or finesse, and no attempts at cleverness--merely an effort to get to the bottom of things and to discover a common meeting ground. The Amba.s.sador, moreover, represented a nation for which the Foreign Secretary had always entertained the highest respect and even affection, and he and Page could find no happier common meeting-ground than an effort to bring about the closest cooperation between the two countries. Sir Edward, far-seeing statesman that he was, had already appreciated, even amid the exciting and engrossing experiences through which he was then pa.s.sing, the critical and almost determining part which the United States was destined to play in the war, and he had now sent for the American Amba.s.sador because he believed that the President was ent.i.tled to a complete explanation of the momentous decision which Great Britain had just made.