The summer of 1919

Foreword

NOT long after our return, I was telling a friend some of our experiences in France, and she begged me to write an account of the summer while it was fresh in my mind. I did so with no idea of having it published, intending to have it typewritten as a surprise for Willard, and to preserve what had been a wonderfully interesting experience, one that we could not have had at any other time nor under any other circumstances.

Willard found the story interesting, and suggested that I have it printed for private distribution. I apologize to those friends and relatives whom I have put in a book without their permission, my excuse being that I did not know it was going to be a book; and without them there would be very little interest in my story.

Chapter I

WILLARD was very tired after long years of work. He had not been able to take any holidays, for his position as President pro tempore of the Senate obliged him to be in the Senate when the Vice-President was away. Two years ago, the serious illness of Mrs. Marshall had made it necessary for him to stay in Washington all summer. The following year, the Vice-President, after taking a vacation in July, had a slight sunstroke which prevented his going to work again during the heat, and consequently Willard could not have a holiday.

He had wanted to go off on a long sea voyage immediately after the 4th of March, but was so worn out that he felt unable even to prepare to go, and decided on a trip to Augusta for some golf first, where he stayed for a month. His plan was to go to Australia, but I was very anxious to go to France, where

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all our thoughts had been since the beginning of the war in 1914.

All my friends said it would be very sad and very uncomfortable, but I wanted to go, and he gave way to my wishes on the subject. Owing to his position, he was able to get diplomatic passports, which were a great help and convenience to us all the way through, and the position which he had held made it easier for us to do many things which we could not otherwise have done.

We decided to take a chauffeur, intending to buy a car in France and sell it when we left. This proved to be a very unsatisfactory arrangement, as we arrived in France just as the French government had forbidden the sale of American cars, and we sent our chauffeur home, after he had seen something of Paris and taken a short trip in the devastated country.

When Willard made up his mind to go, he was anxious to sail at once ; but I wanted to wait for a good ship, which delayed us a little longer. We succeeded in getting passage on the Rotterdam, sailing on the 12th of June. Just at that time they were having a strike in the express company, and we left Wilmington on the loth, having sent on our baggage two days before, hoping to find it on our arrival in New York. In spite of a great deal of help from the Customs people, we had difficulty in collecting our trunks, ending by going to the baggage rooms of the railroad company, and finding it ourselves. What a difference there was in the appearance of the docks from that of our previous sailings ! Only those people who were going to sail were allowed on the boat. Before going on board, we were obliged to have our passports viseed, and we went up one by one, showing our papers to the man at the foot of the gangway. Usually at the sailing of a large boat there are messenger boys with boxes of flowers and baskets of fruit, and telegrams, as well as many people on board seeing their friends off. Stewards go about calling, "All persons who are not sailing please leave the boat," and you can scarcely move, there is such a crowd. On this occasion there was nothing. The decks were empty, all the passengers had gone to their staterooms to settle themselves and arrange their belongings. We started oft in silence, with no waving of hands nor demonstrations from the shore.

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I was delighted with my stateroom. It was the most comfortable I had ever had, large, with a very good bath, comfortable chairs, and altogether extremely nice; in fact, I liked the Rotterdam more even than the Olympic, which was, up to that time, the finest boat I had ever sailed on.

We hoped that an old friend. Captain Simpson, would be able to sail with us, and had ordered a chair next to ours on the deck for him, as well as a seat at the table; and just at the last moment, he arrived. (He had been ordered to England on a special mission, which he carried through satisfactorily, and was promoted to be an admiral before he reached America again.) His being with us added very much to the pleasure of our voyage, the more because there were no other passengers on board whom we knew. There were few Americans, excepting those who were going for some special reason in connection with the war. The passengers were from all over the world, many being from Java now taking the first chance to go home to Holland. The boat was slow, and we arrived at Boulogne in ten days.

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Willard had written to our Ambassador in Paris, asking him to reserve hotel accommodations for us, and expected an answer at Falmouth ; but was disappointed. He sent a wireless from there, and should have had a reply at Boulogne, but none came.

On the day of our arrival in Boulogne we were routed out early in the morning, ate an early breakfast, and then prepared to show our passports. We stood about and waited until we were tired. The first thing to be done was to be investigated by the quarantine officers. After that we stood in line, and, one by one, were obliged to go before the officials who examined our passports. Even the babies and little children had to do this, and it was very tiresome.

It was quite late in the morning before we landed at Boulogne, and there was a great rush for seats in the special boat train. We succeeded in getting two seats in a car in which there were a young American lady with her French husband, and a Red Cross American man. The train should have taken four hours to go to Paris, but we were held up all along the road by trains of soldiers. They were evidently young English boys going or returning from a leave. We were ten hours going from Boulogne to Paris. I had nothing to eat or drink, from seven in the morning until half past ten that night except a small package of caramels which the Red Cross man very kindly gave me, as I did not like the looks of some bread Willard was able to get.

The journey did not seem long to me, as I was so much interested in what I saw. Very soon we began to see the effects of shell-fire, although nothing to compare to that which we were to see later, and we saw graveyards along the road with little white crosses, and the poppies were blooming, reminding us of "In Flanders Fields" —

"In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place ; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly, Scarce heard amidst the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow. Loved and were loved — and now we lie In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe! To }'^ou, from falling hands, we throw The torch. Be yours to hold it high ; If ye break faith with us who die, We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields."

The train was held up at Amiens for quite a little while, and from there on we saw a good deal of the destruction caused by shell-fire, and one pleasant sight, that of trains and trains of German freight cars, the names of German towns on each one.

We had heard that it was almost impossible to get accommodations in Paris, because the Allied Governments had taken the hotels for their offices, and hundreds of persons working on the Peace Treaty who were in Paris had taken some of the hotels; so that we were very anxious to hear from the American Embassy about our rooms. As it was, we arrived in Paris at ten o'clock at night, without any reservations. We decided to try the Hotel Plaza-Athenee, where I had stayed six years before. It is not a very large hotel, and we had little hopes, the American lady In the car, of whom I spoke, telling me that It was a good place to stay, but she did not think we could get in.

Instead of the great number of porters whom one usually finds in foreign stations, there were very few. We secured one, however, but at that moment Miss Betty Adler, a newspaper correspondent who had a letter of introduction to Willard, rushed up and said she would go with us (her relatives not having met her), making it necessary for our porter to go for a barrow for the baggage. He disappeared behind the train, and as he reappeared he was seized upon by an American, who, although I said to him, "This is our porter," threw his baggage on the barrow. The porter did not know what to do. Fortunately at this moment there arrived a companion of this man with a barrow of his own, and we succeeded in getting rid of the unmannerly creature. We and our baggage at last arrived at the street. This delay caused us great difficulty in finding a taxi, several refusing to go as far as the Champs Elysees, which is very unlike the usual conditions in Paris. It was a poor little taxi and I feared would not hold all our baggage and ourselves, but we crowded in and at last drove up in front of the Plaza- Athenee Hotel.

To my great delight, I recognized the manager of the hotel standing at the front door. I rushed up to him, and said, "I am Mrs. Saulsbury. I stayed here six years ago. Do you remember me?" He said, "Oh, yes, Mrs. Saulsbury, I remember you very well," which Willard says was only his French politeness. He said they would take care of us, and I can assure you it was a great relief. They gave us comfortable rooms, and promised better ones in a few days, and also gave us some supper, although the cook had gone home and everything was closed up in the dining-room.

The next morning we had to sign certain papers, in order that the hotel be allowed food for us.

The manager, Mr. Ambrewster, who had lost one of his two sons in the war, showed the effects of his anxieties and sorrow, looking much older and not so erect as when I had seen him last. He told us that when the Germans were so close to Paris, arrangements were made to burn the great department stores, like the Louvre, Galleries LaFayette, Bon

Marche and others, in order to prevent their contents falling into the hands of the Germans.

He decided, on account of his daughters, to leave Paris, had taken his bonds from the bank and such things as he could carry in an automobile, and with his family was prepared to leave as soon as he could get permission to do so. At last word came that a gate would be open for fifteen minutes at a certain hour, and they rushed off. He had hardly time to reach the gate. They fled to Orleans, but were unable to get shelter, as it was already full of refugees, and they drove from town to town for several days, sleeping at night by the roadside, before they were able to find quarters.

One of the elevator boys, and he was really a boy, had lost one arm. He was still in uniform and wore several decorations. The head waiter had taught our soldiers artillery practice, and I suppose all the men in the hotel had war records, but they did not speak of them.

The first thing we did was to go to the Embassy, where we found that Willard's letter had not reached them until a short time before, his wireless not at all. They had reserved rooms for us at the Ritz, but as the management of the Plaza had been so polite and nice to us, we decided to remain there.

The next thing that we had to do was to register at Police Quarters for permission to stay in Paris. After some difficulty, we found the place, which was a small temporary building. It was filled with people patiently or impatiently awaiting their turn. We sat there until we were tired, and the office hours were nearly over.

I had noticed a couple of girls in uniform who looked to me like Americans, and I thought perhaps they knew the ropes, so I went up to them and said, *'Are you Americans?" They replied, "We are English." I said, "We have diplomatic passports," which they thought would help. So I put my head in the door of the room into which I had noticed people going, and caught the eye of an official there, and said, "We have diplomatic passports." She looked at me and made some motion that gave me the idea to go in. So I beckoned to Willard, and we both entered, and waited until she had finished with the person on whom she was waiting. She then took down our data, asking us all sorts of questions. We also had to leave our photographs with her.

That ended our formalities with the Police Department, after which we had no trouble in staying in Paris.

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Chapter II

I HAVE French cousins. We are distantly related, having to go back to my great-great-grandfather for a common ancestor (the Marquis de Pelleport), but we are the nearest relations they have on their father's side, and consequently they are more interested in us than they would otherwise be. As I heard Pierre explain to his brother-in-law, '*Les plus proches parents de mon pere." His father was my friend, and died a hero of the war.

Pierre de Pelleport was married in June, 19 14, and after a short honeymoon joined his regiment in the mountains of France. He was a second lieutenant, having graduated from a French military school. His bride went to stay in a little village near where his regiment was, so that she might see him occasionally, and they had expected to have been ordered to Paris in September; but on the ist of August the war broke out.

He was at the front during the entire war, at Rheims, Soissons, Verdun, and so forth, but was only once wounded. He was promoted on the field of battle, is Chevalier de la Legion d'Honneur, and was a captain at the close of the war, although for a time he did the work of a colonel. His regiment was ordered to Paris just before we came to France. In the meantime, he had occasionally seen his wife, but for only a few days' leave at a time, though after a severe illness from influenza he had a little longer leave. All in all, they had seen very little of each other since they were married.

They had three children, two pretty little girls and a boy, the youngest a baby of three months when we arrived; the most fascinating baby I have ever known and whom I call my beloved Kiki. They had bought a small house, 5 Square du Ranelagh, which had a little garden and summer-house, in order that the children might have more freedom than in an apartment. It was furnished very attractively with antique furniture (Empire) from Guillemette's home. Imagine what it meant to this charming young couple, after the cruel separa- [16]

tion during five dreadful years, to have a house of their own for the first time since their marriage in June, 1914.

They welcomed us by sending me a beautiful basket of roses, and then telephoned to make an appointment to come to see us. I had never seen Pierre's wife, and it was a great pleasure to find her very sweet and pretty, very intelligent and companionable. Pierre himself is very tall, over six feet, and she is a little thing. He looked stunning in his uniform, and they made a very good-looking couple.

Rather to my disappointment, the French officers do not wear their uniforms excepting on duty, so that on social occasions he was dressed in civilian clothes. I would like to have shown him off to my American friends in his uniform.

A few days after our arrival. Secretary of State and Mrs. Lansing invited us to dine with them at the de Crillon Hotel, which had been taken by the American Peace Commission. It is in a beautiful situation on the Place de la Concorde. We enjoyed the evening very much.

The French Ambassador and Madame Jusserand were there, whom we had seen just before we left Washington at a reception at the French Embassy in celebration of the changing of the clock at Strasbourg to French time. On this occasion, Madame Jusserand wore her jewels for the first time since the war began, and looked so happy. She holds a unique position in Washington society, and is, I believe, the most popular woman there, combining a charming personality with intelligence and kindness of heart to a remarkable degree. The President and Mrs. Wilson were present, the former making a speech in which he referred to the return to France of the lost provinces, Alsace and Lorraine, as having been his hope since boyhood. The guests were mostly from the Legations. We considered ourselves very lucky to have been invited to such a memorable event.

We were told that it is etiquette when the ruler of a country is to visit a foreign nation for the ambassador from that country to be there to receive him. It had caused quite a sensation in Washington to hear, one after another, that the ambassadors were leaving, and we thought that they were all resigning, and would not return, so were relieved to hear that they were only going in order to be in their own countries when the President arrived.

At the Lansing dinner also were Colonel and Mrs. House, our Minister to Switzerland, and Mr. Hugh Gibson, who is now Minister to Poland.

Just after we arrived in Paris, the news came that the Germans had accepted the Peace terms, and we heard the sirens which had been used to warn of air raids and had caused people to fly to the cellars for safety now sounded to express the joy of the people at the end of the war.

The news came a day ahead of time, so there were two celebrations; just what happened in America on the acceptance of the Armistice. On the first evening, we went out in an automobile to see the celebration in the streets. There were great crowds in the boulevards, but by that time there was doubt as to the news being true, and the excitement was not very great. The next night, when the news had been confirmed, we went out again. The concierge had warned us not to go into the boulevards, saying that there would be no police, and it would be better for us to keep out of the crowds. He also told the chauffeur, but in some way we did get into a very great crowd at the front of the Opera. Some boys climbed on the top of the car, and rocked it, and some people called to us in French, saying we were lazy and should walk. They were justly provoked to have a car try to get through that crowd. Willard had at the last moment brought a small American flag with him, and he put it out of the window and waved it. Whether that had anything to do with the result or not, I do not know, but we were allowed to go through.

We then went into the quieter streets, where we saw people dancing in the street. Very late that night, Willard heard a great voice coming up the avenue and passing our hotel, singing, "Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here!" I fear that one American at least had celebrated a little too much.

One morning not long after our arrival in Paris we waited for our breakfast, which was always served at nine o'clock in our drawing-room, and usually arrived punctually. At last I rang; no reply, and after several efforts to get a waiter, I went on an expedition of discovery into the hall. No one in sight. At last an elevator boy told me there was a strike of all the waiters in Paris and that the other servants had gone out in sympathy. However, we found a long table in the dining-room, where the head waiter and several of the men from the office were serving bread, butter, and coffee to the guests.

After breakfast, I returned to our apartment, made the beds and straightened up the rooms a little, and we then went out and purchased a stock of provisions, such as chocolate, sardines, canned tongue, biscuits, etc., and prepared for a siege. After all, the cook remained faithful and served a very nice dinner, simple but enough, and most of the waiters returned and waited on table dressed in their everyday clothes. One would scarcely have recognized this motley crew to be the same men who usually served us "spick-and-span" in their evening dress. I understood that the manager was very popular and good to his employees, and the waiters were anxious to help. When we came in late that afternoon, the men were putting up large iron gates at the entrance and said they feared a riot that night and the glass might be broken. However, nothing happened. A meeting of the hotel managers was held that evening and the strike called off next day. One of the demands made by the waiters was to be allowed to wear moustaches. In the morning, the chambermaid, valet, and waiter walked in and without a word about their absence the day before went to work as usual. This was the first time in my life that I had made a bed and I felt rather proud of myself.

I am now going to leave France and go back to Washington to recall some of our experiences there in relation to the war.

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Chapter III

EARLY in the spring of 19 17 came the rumor that Marshal Joffre was coming to Washington, but we heard nothing very definite.

I remember one day in the latter part of March being down town in the morning doing some shopping, when my chauffeur told me there was a rumor that Marshal Joffre was to reach Washington about noon, and he asked if he should try to find a place from which we could see him. We were fortunate in finding a good place for my car on Sixteenth Street, and very soon we commenced to see a few persons gathering, watching and looking down the street. Evidently the great event was not generally known for there was no crowd, just the gradual increase of people looking about as if they were expecting someone. Ladies came out on the steps of their houses on Sixteenth Street, which, as you know, is one of the most

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fashionable dwelling-house streets in Washington. After a time we heard them coming. People left their cars and stood at the curb.

At last they came. An escort of cavalry first, and then, in a red and gold cap, with smiling face, came the Marshal. It seemed almost incredible that I was actually seeing with my own eyes the hero of the Marne. Beside him was sitting a "Blue Devil," a very handsome young fellow, and there were other Frenchmen following in carriages, all escorted by American officials.

He was to be the guest of Mr, Henry White in his beautiful house, 1 624 Crescent Place. Mr. White had been our Ambassador to France, and was a good French scholar. Everyone of course in Washington was very anxious to see Marshal Joffre, and we were very much pleased to be invited to meet him at dinner at Secretary and Mrs. Lansing's. Before I went to dinner, I thought of something to say to him in French, but of course forgot it when the moment came. I had, as I have often had in Washington, the feeling that people expected me to speak French, and that I was a disappointment to my host and hostess in that respect.

Marshal Joffre was so much of a hero at that time that I have forgotten to speak of Monsieur Viviani, who really outranked the Marshal, and who sat at the right of Mrs. Lansing at dinner. My recollection is that the French Ambassador sat on her left. I sat on the Ambassador's left, so was very close to M. Viviani. I regretted very much that as he neither spoke nor understood English, I could not talk to him. He is an unusually handsome man, and looked very much like the Italian Ambassador. I spoke of this likeness to Willard, who did not agree with me; but at a reception given by Mrs. Dimock to the Italian Prince, Willard said to me, "Who is that man who looks so much like M. Viviani?" and I said, "Why, that is the Italian Ambassador."

To return to the dinner, every time I had a chance I looked at the Marshal, who was sitting far down at the other end of the table, and found that he was almost exclusively devoting himself to his dinner. The ladies sitting on either side of him were good French scholars, so that it was not because he did not

1:253 have pleasant people to talk to. One of his suite, the Admiral, spoke English very well, and he acted as an interpreter when it was necessary to have one.

A few days afterwards, Willard was invited to dine at Mr. Henry White's to meet Marshal Joffre. There were present a few of the most prominent members of the Senate and House, I think possibly eight or ten of each. The Marshal was expected at a ball at one of the large houses in Washington, but he remained at Mr. White's, sitting by a big open fire talking to the men until late that night. We were told that the ball was not a success because the great man did not come. The hostess' eyes were fixed on the door, and so were those of the guests, watching for the Marshal.

There were so many other distinguished Frenchmen there belonging to the Mission, that it seemed as if the ball could have been a success even without the Marshal; but apparently the hostess was unable to turn either her thoughts or those of her guests away from the hope of seeing him.

This meeting at Mr. Henry White's was of very great importance. He realized that Marshal Joffre did not come to America for social reasons. It was a very serious period, and extremely important that he should make the leaders in Congress realize conditions in France. I understand that his object was to get our Government to send over as quickly as possible even a few of our soldiers, to encourage the soldiers who had been fighting so long. There was a tense feeling in the air which we had never felt before, and everyone realized that the situation was serious, and I believe it was owing to his representations that the sending over of American soldiers was hurried up. Up to that time, we had thought that the Navy would be of more assistance to the Allies than our Army, and few believed that we would ever send a great army to France.

The French Mission was received in the Senate. Willard had two tickets, which he gave to me, and I took Mrs. Bayard with me. The galleries were packed. The Vice-President named a Committee to meet the French Mission, and to escort them in. M. Viviani and Marshal Joffre were seated next to the Vice-President, and the others had chairs on the floor nearby. M. Viviani spoke in French.

He made a very beautiful speech, and even the people who could not speak French seemed to understand him. There was considerable applause, and at the right moment, which surprised me because I did not realize there were so many people there who would have understood him. There were calls for the Marshal to make a speech. The Marshal hesitated, and then stood up and said, "I-donot-speak-English. Vive la France! Vive les Etats Unisf" I am under the impression that this was the first occasion on which a foreigner had made a speech in the Senate.

After this, all the Senators came up in succession and were introduced to the Mission, followed by the clerks and last of all the pages. Imagine the delight of these boys at having the honor of shaking hands with the great General!