Volume II Part 19 (1/2)
Lord Robert Cecil, the son of the late Lord Salisbury,--that same Lord Salisbury whose combats with Secretary Blaine and Secretary Olney form piquant chapters in British-American history--is one of the most able and respected of British statesmen. In his earlier life Lord Salisbury had been somewhat overbearing in his att.i.tude toward the United States; in his later years, however, perhaps owing to the influence of his nephew, Mr. Balfour, his manner had changed. In his att.i.tude toward the United States Lord Robert Cecil reflected only the later phases of his father's career. To this country and to its peaceful ideals he had always been extremely sympathetic, and to Page especially he had never manifested anything but cordiality. Yet it was evident, as Page came into his office this morning, that to Lord Robert, as to every member of the Government, the President's note, with its equivocal phrases, had been a terrible shock. His manner was extremely courteous, as always, but he made no attempt to conceal his feelings. Ordinarily Lord Robert did not wear his emotions on the surface; but he took occasion on this visit to tell Page how greatly the President's communication had grieved him.
”The President,” he said, ”has seemed to pa.s.s judgment on the allied cause by putting it on the same level as the German. I am deeply hurt.”
Page conveyed Mr. Lansing's message that no such inference was justified. But this was not rea.s.suring.
”Moreover,” Lord Robert added, ”there is one sentence in the note--that in which the President says that the position of neutrals is becoming intolerable--that seems almost a veiled threat.”
Page hastened to a.s.sure Lord Robert that no threat was intended.
Lord Robert's manner became increasingly serious.
”There is nothing that the American Government or any other human power can do,” he remarked slowly and solemnly, ”which will bring this war to a close before the Allies have spent their utmost force to secure a victory. A failure to secure such a victory will leave the world at the mercy of the most arrogant and the bloodiest tyranny that has ever been organized. It is far better to die in an effort to defeat that tyranny than to perish under its success.”
On any occasion Lord Robert is an impressive or at least a striking and unusual figure; he is tall, lank, and ungainly, almost Lincolnesque in the carelessness of his apparel and the exceeding awkwardness of his postures and manners. His angular features, sharp nose, pale face, and dark hair suggest the strain of ascetism, almost of fanaticism, which runs in the present generation of his family. And the deep sincerity and power of his words on this occasion made an impression which Page never forgot; they transformed the British statesman into an eloquent, almost an heroic figure. If we are to understand the full tragedy of this moment we must remember that, incredible as it now seems, there was a fear in British officialdom that the United States might not only not pursue a course favourable to the Allies, but that it might even throw its support to Germany. The fear, of course, was baseless; any suggestion of such a policy in the United States would have destroyed any official who had brought it forward; but Lord Robert knew and Page knew that there were insidious influences at work at that time, both in the United States and in Great Britain, which looked in this direction.
A group of Americans, whom Page used to refer to as ”peace spies,” were a.s.sociated with English pacifists, for the purpose of bringing about peace on almost any terms. These ”peace spies” had worked out a programme all their own. The purpose was to compel Great Britain to accept the German terms for ending the war. Unless she did accept them, then it was intended that the American Government should place an embargo on the s.h.i.+pment of foodstuffs and munitions to the Allies. There is little question that the United States, by taking such action, could have ended the war almost instantaneously. Should the food of her people and the great quant.i.ties of munitions which were coming from this country be suddenly cut off, there is little likelihood that Great Britain could have long survived. The possibility that an embargo might shut out these supplies had hung over the heads of British statesmen ever since the war began; they knew that the possession of this mighty power made the United States the potential dictator of events; and the fear that it might be used had never ceased to influence their thoughts or their actions. Even while this interview was taking place, certain anti-British forces in the United States, such as Senator Hoke Smith of Georgia, were urging action of this kind.
”I have always been almost a Pacifist,” Lord Robert continued. ”No man has ever hated war worse than I. No man has ever had a more earnest faith that war can be abolished. But European civilization has been murderously a.s.saulted and there is nothing now to do but to defeat this desperate enemy or to perish in the effort. I had hoped that the United States understood what is at stake.”
Lord Robert went on:
”I will go so far as to say that if the United States will come into the war it will decide which will win, freedom or organized tyranny. If the United States shall help the Germans, civilization will perish and it will be necessary to build it up slowly again--if indeed it will ever appear again. If the United States will help the Allies, civilization will triumph[50].”
As to the proposal that the British terms should be conveyed confidentially to Mr. Wilson, Lord Robert said that that would be a difficult thing to do. The President's note had been published, and it therefore seemed necessary that the reply should also be given to the press. This was the procedure that was ultimately adopted.
Startling as was the sensation caused by the President's December note, it was mild compared with that which was now to come. Page naturally sent prompt reports of all these conversations to the President and likewise kept him completely informed as to the state of public feeling, but his best exertions apparently did not immediately affect the Wilson policy. The overwhelming fact is that the President's mind was fixed on a determination to compel the warring powers to make peace and in this way to keep the United States out of the conflict. Even the disturbance caused by his note of December 18th did not make him pause in this peace campaign. To that note the British sent a manly and definite reply, drafted by Mr. Balfour, giving in detail precisely the terms upon which the Allies would compose their differences with the Central Powers. The Germans sent a reply consisting of ten or a dozen lines, which did not give their terms, but merely asked again for a conference. Events were now moving with the utmost rapidity. On January 9th, a council of German military chieftains was held at Pless; in this it was decided to resume unrestricted submarine warfare. On January 16th the Zimmermann-Mexico telegram was intercepted; this informed Bernstorff, among other things, that this decision had been made. On January 16th, at nine o'clock in the morning, the American Emba.s.sy in London began receiving a long cipher despatch from Was.h.i.+ngton. The preamble announced that the despatch contained a copy of an address which the President proposed to deliver before the Senate ”in a few days.” Page was directed to have copies of the address ”secretly prepared” and to hand them to the British Foreign Office and to newspapers of the type of the Nation, the Daily News, and the Manchester Guardian--all three newspapers well known for their Pacifist tendencies. As the speech approached its end, this sentence appeared: ”It must be a peace without victory.” The words greatly puzzled the secretary in charge, for they seemed almost meaningless. Suspecting that an error had been made in transmission, the secretary directed the code room to cable Was.h.i.+ngton for a verification of the cipher groups. Very soon the answer was received; there had been no mistake; the Presidential words were precisely those which had been first received: ”Peace without victory.” The slips were then taken to Page, who read the doc.u.ment, especially these fateful syllables, with a consternation which he made no effort to conceal. He immediately wrote a cable to President Wilson, telling him of the deplorable effect this sentence would produce and imploring him to cut it out of his speech--with what success the world now knows.
An astonis.h.i.+ng feature of this episode is that Page had recently explained to the Foreign Office, in obedience to instructions from Was.h.i.+ngton, that Mr. Wilson's December note should not be interpreted as placing the Allies and the Central Powers on the same moral level. Now Mr. Wilson, in this ”peace without victory” phrase, had repeated practically the same idea in another form. On the day the speech was received at the Emba.s.sy, about a week before it was delivered in the Senate, Page made the following memorandum:
The President's address to the Senate, which was received to-day (January 16th)[51], shows that he thinks he can play peace-maker.
He does not at all understand, (or, if he do, so much the worse for him) that the Entente Powers, especially Great Britain and France, cannot make ”peace without victory.” If they do, they will become va.s.sals of Germany. In a word, the President does not know the Germans; and he is, unconsciously, under their influence in his thought. His speech plays into their hands.
This address will give great offense in England, since it puts each side in the war on the same moral level.
I immediately saw the grave danger to our relations with Great Britain by the Peace-without-Victory plan; and I telegraphed the President, venturing to advise him to omit that phrase--with no result.
Afterward Page added this to the above:
Compare this Senate speech with his speech in April calling for war: Just when and how did the President come to see the true nature of the German? What made him change from Peace-Maker to War-Maker? The Zimmermann telegram, or the February U-boat renewal of warfare? Had he been so credulous as to believe the German promise? This promise had been continuously and repeatedly broken.
Or was it the pressure of public opinion, the growing impatience of the people that pushed him in?
This distressing peace-move--utterly out of touch with the facts of the origin of the war or of its conduct or of the mood and necessities of Great Britain--a remote, academic deliverance, while Great Britain and France were fighting for their very lives--made a profoundly dejected feeling; and it made my place and work more uncomfortable than ever. ”Peace without victory” brought us to the very depths of European disfavour.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 49: ”My Three Years in America,” by Count Bernstorff, p. 294.]