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PORTRAITS OF THE BIG FOUR 
 of the Peace Conference 
 
THE BIG FOUR 
 
 And Others of the Peace Conference 
 
 BY 
 ROBERT LANSING 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 1921 
 

 COPYRIGHT,I93t, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY ROBEKT LANSING 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 - 
 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PORTRAITS OF THE BIO FOUR 
 
 Introduction 3 
 
 I. Clemenceau 10 
 
 II. Wilson 87 
 
 III. Lloyd George 77 
 
 IV. Orlando 104 
 
 IMPRESSIONS OF OTHERS 
 
 Impressions 137 
 
 I. Venizelos 142 
 
 II. Emir Feisul 161 
 
 III. General Botha 178 
 
 IV. Paderewski 197 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The Big Four: Signor Orlando, Mr. Lloyd 
 George, M. Clemenceau, and Mr. Wilson, 
 with the Italian, British, and French 
 Secretaries Frontispiece 
 
 From a Photograph by the United States Signal Corps 
 
 Georges Clemenceau 10 
 
 Woodrow Wilson 88 
 
 David Lloyd George 78 
 
 Vittorio E. Orlando 104 
 
 Eleftherios Venizelos 142 
 
 Emir Feisul 162 
 
 Louis Botha 178 
 
 Ignace Jan Paderewski 198 
 
THE BIG FOUR 
 
 And Others of the Peace Conference 
 
THE BIG FOUR 
 
 And Others of the Peace Conference 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 It is by no means an easy task to analyze and 
 compare the characteristics of the four statesmen 
 who were the leading figures in the Peace Con- 
 ference at Paris, or to state without reservation 
 the part which each played in the negotiations, 
 the motives which inspired his actions, and the 
 success or failure of his efforts. It is therefore 
 with a measure of hesitation that I attempt to 
 judge the personalities of the Big Four and to 
 give to each his proper place of prominence in the 
 proceedings of that great assembly of the masters 
 of political thought. 
 
 It is manifestly difficult to treat the subject 
 impersonally and to avoid the petty influences 
 which ought not to, but so often do, warp in- 
 dividual opinion and a just appraisement of 
 public men. Yet it cannot be denied that traits 
 of character are as frequently shown by trivial 
 incidents as by those of greater moment, though 
 
 f S 1 
 
Introduction 
 
 it is on the latter that popular reputations are 
 founded. It is essential to a true estimate of a 
 man's character to give a right valuation to the 
 small as well as the great acts which go to make 
 up his life. With a lively appreciation of the 
 dangers of error, I enter upon the consideration 
 of the characters of the Big Four. 
 
 Until the President had been in Paris ten days, 
 after his return from the United States, in the 
 middle of March, 1919, the directing body of the 
 Peace Conference — or, more correctly, the Con- 
 ference on the Preliminaries of Peace — was the 
 so-called Council of Ten, which, like the Supreme 
 War Council, was composed of the heads of states 
 and the secretaries and ministers of Foreign 
 Affairs of the United States, Great Britain, 
 France, and Italy, together with two Japanese 
 statesmen of ambassadorial rank. After that 
 time the Council of Ten was divided into two 
 councils — the Council of the Heads of States, 
 known also as the Council of Four, the Big Four, 
 and, by some, as The Olympians; and the Council 
 of Foreign Ministers, commonly called the Coun- 
 cil of Five, or the Little Five — five, because 
 one of the Japanese ambassadors was included. 
 The latter Council w T as subordinate to, and sub- 
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
Introduction 
 
 ject to the direction of, the Council of the Heads 
 of States. 
 
 The Council of Ten consisted of Mr. Lloyd 
 George and Mr. Balfour, M. Clemenceau and 
 M. Pichon, Signor Orlando and Baron Sonnino, 
 Baron Makino and Baron Matsui — or Viscount 
 Chinda — and Mr. Wilson and myself. The 
 Supreme War Council had the same membership, 
 but had to do with the armistice and other 
 matters of a military and naval character. 
 
 Prior to the President's departure for the 
 United States on February 14, 1919, the Supreme 
 War Council and the Council of Ten met thirty- 
 five times. During the month that the President 
 was absent there were eighteen meetings, M. Tar- 
 dieu attending four of them in place of M. Cle- 
 menceau while the latter was recovering from 
 the wound which he received from an anarchist's 
 bullet. Lord Milner also had a seat in the Coun- 
 cil, when Mr. Lloyd George was absent; and Mr. 
 Henry White or Colonel Edward M. House sat 
 as the second American member in the Council 
 when the President was in the United States. 
 After the President's return the Council of Ten 
 met regularly seven times until, on March 24th, 
 it was divided into two councils as I have stated. 
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
Introduction 
 
 Between that date and the President's final de- 
 parture on June 28th there were six meetings of 
 the Council of Ten; and up to my departure on 
 July 12th, ten other meetings. I was therefore 
 present at seventy-six meetings of the Council of 
 Ten or ofj the same body sitting as the Supreme 
 War Council. This gave me opportunity to 
 become acquainted with the four heads of states 
 and to gain some clear impressions as to their 
 personal characteristics, their intellectual force, 
 and their methods. 
 
 Without disparaging the powers of observation 
 of some who have undertaken to analyze or to 
 delineate the characters of the Big Four, I cannot 
 but feel amazement at" their emphatic state- 
 ments, which, so far as actual knowledge is con- 
 cerned, are based upon three or four casual 
 interviews with these statesmen, and not upon 
 frequent intercourse with them. Evidently such 
 writers build their opinions chiefly on hear- 
 say and very little on actual knowledge. It 
 is manifest that their appreciation is super- 
 ficial and should be so recognized by those 
 who are critical in their study of personality. If 
 the knowledge of these authors were equal 
 to the positiveness of their assertions, their 
 
 [6] 
 
Introduction 
 
 word portraits would be almost priceless. The 
 danger lies in the possibility that future genera- 
 tions, assuming that their judgments are drawn 
 from sufficient personal observations, may ac- 
 cept their writings as true and accurate like- 
 nesses of those whom they purport to describe, 
 when, in fact, the prejudice and fancy of common 
 gossip have much to do with their tone and 
 color. In truth, the descriptions of these leaders 
 at Paris which have appeared from time to time 
 have been a chief inducement for me to write 
 these sketches. 
 
 In order that the comments upon the negotia- 
 tions at Paris which appear in the succeeding 
 pages may not be misconstrued, or relied upon 
 to justify those who have opposed a speedy 
 ratification of the Treaty of Versailles, it may be 
 proper to say that, defective as the treaty is in 
 certain particulars, nevertheless, considering that 
 it had gone as far as it had and that the supreme 
 need of the world was an immediate restoration 
 of a state of peace, the situation demanded, in my 
 judgment, its signature and should have secured 
 its prompt ratification by the United States. To 
 have declined to sign the treaty and by doing 
 so to have delayed the peace would, as it seemed 
 
 [ 7 J 
 
Introduction 
 
 at the time, have jeopardized the political and 
 social order in many European countries, and 
 the same peril seemed to arise from the with- 
 holding of senatorial consent to the ratification 
 of the treaty. 
 
 Whatever criticisms may be justly made of 
 the conduct of the negotiations at Paris and how- 
 ever sound may be some of the objections raised 
 as to the terms of the Treaty of Versailles, they 
 appeared in the summer of 1919 insufficient 
 grounds to warrant the refusal to sign or ratify 
 the document. In 1919 there was an almost 
 universal belief that a restoration of peace was 
 imperative. It was then paramount to every 
 other consideration. Even if American interests 
 were adversely affected, the Constitution of the 
 United States seemed to give ample protection 
 from the treaty obligations which were con- 
 sidered to be contrary to America's traditional 
 policies. As President Wilson had definitely 
 made up his mind not to accept any actual 
 modifications of the articles in the treaty relating 
 to the League of Nations, the only expedient 
 course seemed to be to obtain ratification without 
 change of the articles if peace was to be restored 
 prior to 1920. 
 
 [81 
 
Introduction 
 
 When, however, the Senate declined to give 
 its consent to ratification without substantial 
 reservations, and when President Wilson de- 
 clared that the covenant of the League of Na- 
 tions should be made an issue in the presidential 
 campaign of 1920 and that the election should be 
 considered a solemn referendum of the people of 
 the United States as to its acceptance, the chief 
 argument for urging ratification without change 
 disappeared. If peace was to be postponed until 
 the popular will was expressed at the polls in 
 November, 1920, then it was proper and advis- 
 able to consider the rejection of the covenant or 
 amendments and reservations to it which would 
 cure its fundamental defects. With an immediate 
 peace out of the question, revision of the articles 
 seemed wise, as before their acceptance without 
 revision had seemed wise and for the best in- 
 terests of the nations. 
 
 [9] 
 
CLEMENCEAU 
 
 Of the four heads of states M. Clemenceau, the 
 president of the Peace Conference, was, in my 
 judgment, the dominant figure and the strongest 
 man of the many strong men who participated 
 in the negotiations at Paris. Possibly his age, 
 which in no way impaired his keenness of wit or 
 vigor of address, his long and turbulent political 
 career, and the courage and firmness which he 
 had shown during the perils of the German 
 offensive in May, June, and July, 1918, had much 
 to do with the impression which he made upon 
 me. But without the background of accomplish- 
 ment M. Clemenceau possessed a strength of 
 character and a forcefulness which would have 
 raised him above his colleagues. Persistent 
 though patient, he was always ready, when the 
 moment arrived, to use all his skill and cleverness 
 in debate to obtain a decision which would be in 
 the interest of his country. Every question was 
 viewed by him in the light of how it would affect 
 France. He was supremely nationalistic and 
 interpreted international adjustments into na- 
 
 [10 ] 
 
Lupyiiym uy nui i (6 a J^wtity 
 
 [p^^\ 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 tional terms. To advance French interests was 
 his dominant purpose. 
 
 When President Wilson arrived in France 
 about the middle of December, 1918, and was 
 everywhere received with unparalleled enthu- 
 siasm by the people, who believed him to be the 
 apostle of human rights and the uncompromising 
 champion of a just peace, M. Clemenceau doubt- 
 less witnessed the ovations accorded the Presi- 
 dent with a measure of uncertainty as to the man 
 who was thus idolized and who so manifestly had 
 the confidence of the French people. Essentially 
 practical, he looked forward, I imagine, to the 
 time when these first outbursts of enthusiasm 
 would subside and the popular mind would be- 
 come more normal. The shrewd old statesman, 
 familiar from' long experience with every phase 
 of the emotional French nature, and knowing the 
 impatience and instability of popular favor, must 
 have realized that the American leader could not, 
 unless he was indeed the superman many thought 
 him to be, continue to hold the high place in 
 public confidence which he had attained by his 
 declarations as to the fundamentals of peace and 
 by his spectacular arrival in Paris with the un- 
 doubted purpose of forcing their acceptance. 
 
 i n i 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 Judging from the course of events it is not 
 improbable that M. Clemenceau deliberately 
 delayed organizing the work of the Conference 
 until he had an opportunity to learn more of the 
 character and ability of Mr. Wilson. He knew 
 Mr. Lloyd George and Signor Orlando, but the 
 President was practically unknown to him except 
 through his public utterances. Possibly, too, he 
 did not wish to have the Conference meet until 
 the Supreme War Council met on January 11th 
 to extend the armistice, as it would form an easy 
 stepping-stone for him to assume a general direc- 
 tion of the proceedings. 
 
 It was not difficult to cause this delay, because 
 the machinery for arranging the preliminaries 
 was entirely in the hands of the French, as the 
 meeting-place was Paris. It was a foregone con- 
 clusion and in accord with international custom 
 that the Secretary General and most of his active 
 assistants would be French and that M. Clemen- 
 ceau would be able through them to control the 
 proceedings after the Conference was organized. 
 The customary practice would have been for a 
 Frenchman to preside over the Conference, but 
 the presence of President Wilson as a delegate 
 raised a question as to the propriety of any 
 
 [ 12 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 other than the President of the French Republic 
 presiding, and under the system of responsible 
 government in France M. Poincare was not ac- 
 ceptable as a delegate, since he was not fully in 
 harmony with the policies of the Clemenceau 
 ministry. I have an impression that Mr. Wilson 
 had the idea that he would be asked to preside 
 over the Conference and act ex officio as chairman 
 of the committee, commission, or council which 
 would direct the proceedings. But if he was 
 disappointed when this honor went to another, 
 he never showed that he was, accepting the 
 situation with perfect equanimity, and, in fact, 
 nominating M. Clemenceau for the presidency. 
 M. Clemenceau had at the outset perceived 
 that if the President did not sit as a delegate, he 
 would exercise a dominant influence over the 
 negotiations and be in a measure the final arbiter 
 of disputed questions. The natural step, there- 
 fore, was to deprive the President of this superior 
 position by inducing him to sit at the peace table 
 as one of the American delegation, thereby 
 putting him on the same level as the other heads 
 of states present at the Conference. For two or 
 three weeks after the Americans arrived in Paris, 
 M. Clemenceau, aided by his colleagues, exerted 
 
 [ 13 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 his powers of persuasion to obtain the President's 
 consent to act as a delegate. I do not know the 
 arguments used or inducements offered, but, 
 whatever they were, they succeeded, although 
 the President remained long undecided, and ac- 
 ceded, I believe, with hesitation, if not with re- 
 luctance, to their wishes. 
 
 Having persuaded the President to assume a 
 position which placed him on a level with the 
 premiers of the Entente Powers and entitled him 
 to no greater consideration than they received in 
 the conduct of the proceedings, M. Clemenceau 
 could, according to international usage, become 
 the President of the Conference. This he did 
 with the same tact and shrewdness that he had 
 shown in inducing the President to become a 
 delegate* 
 
 When it became necessary to arrange the terms 
 for extending the armistice with Germany, which 
 expired in January, the Supreme War Council 
 was summoned to meet with the Military Coun- 
 cil, on the 12th of the month, at the Ministry of 
 Foreign Affairs. Over this body M. Clemenceau 
 had in the past presided, and he assumed the 
 chair as a matter of course. When the terms of 
 renewing the armistice were settled, questions 
 
 [ 14 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 pertaining to the Conference were taken up and 
 the number of delegates to be allotted to each 
 country represented was determined, as well as 
 the continued control of the proceedings by the 
 Council. Thus without an interruption in the 
 session, except by the withdrawal of the military 
 chieftains, the Supreme War Council was convert- 
 ed into the Council of Ten, and M. Clemenceau 
 continued to preside without any question being 
 raised as to the propriety of his doing so. In fact, 
 no opportunity was offered to object had there 
 been a disposition to make the subject an issue. 
 
 But besides giving M. Clemenceau a superior 
 place in directing the proceedings, this trans- 
 formation of the War Council into the Council of 
 Ten established the policy that the five principal 
 Powers were to have directing control over the 
 Conference and its deliberations. Thus the 
 French Premier gained three points especially 
 advantageous to his country: the oligarchy of 
 the Five Powers, in which France would be in- 
 fluential on account of her military strength; a 
 dominant voice in the Council of Ten through 
 the chairmanship; and direction of the pro- 
 gramme and proceedings of the Conference and 
 Council by means of the Secretariat General. 
 
 [ 15 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 The calmness and ease with which M. Clemen- 
 ceau carried through the plan to hold the 
 management of the negotiations in his own hands 
 and his skillful utilization of a unique state of 
 affairs to that end suggest the movements of a 
 well-oiled piece of machinery. Without noise and 
 without apparent friction he assumed the chair- 
 manship and subordinated the other heads of 
 delegations to less prominent positions, and this 
 in spite of the popular opinion as to the superior 
 qualities of President Wilson and as to the place 
 he should have in the assembled congress of 
 the nations. 
 
 Once in the saddle, Clemenceau, contrary to 
 the public estimate of his nature, did not ride 
 roughshod over his colleagues. As the presiding 
 officer of the Council of Ten his conduct was 
 urbane and considerate, although I cannot say 
 the same of him when he presided over the Con- 
 ference on the Preliminaries of Peace, a position 
 which he assumed with the same assurance with 
 which he had assumed the presidency of the 
 Council. In dealing with the great body of 
 delegates, which met usually in the Salle de 
 l'Horloge of the Palace of the Ministry of Foreign 
 Affairs, he lived up to his reputation. He was, 
 
 [ 16] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 in fact, utterly ruthless in pressing through the 
 programme agreed upon by the Council of Ten. 
 He swept aside objections and suppressed inter- 
 ruptions with little regard for the speakers who 
 dared to challenge his will. The way he forced 
 business forward, ignoring or rebuking a delegate 
 whom he thought opposed to the programme, re- 
 minded one of the methods frequently employed 
 at an American ward caucus a generation ago. 
 His caustic sentences, his fluency of speech, in- 
 creasing in vehemence as he proceeded, and his 
 real or assumed passion simply overwhelmed 
 protest and resistance. It was in such manifesta- 
 tions of fiery temper and intensity of purpose 
 that one understood how the old statesman had 
 won his nom politique, Le Tigre. 
 
 No one who attended a plenary session of the 
 Conference on the Preliminaries of Peace can 
 ever forget M. Clemenceau as he stood with head 
 thrown back between his broad, humped shoul- 
 ders, with the knuckles of his gray-gloved hands 
 resting on the green table in front of him, and 
 with his thick, shaggy brows drawn partially 
 over his dark eyes, which fairly sparkled as he 
 addressed the delegates. He usually began 
 speaking in a deliberate and rather monotonous 
 
 [ 17 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 voice, but with no hesitation or break in the even 
 flow of his words. As he proceeded, he became 
 more and more emphatic, while the rapidity of 
 his utterance increased until it suggested the 
 drumming of a machine gun. He had none of the 
 arts of oratory, but his distinct and incisive 
 delivery compelled attention if not applause. 
 He seemed to hurl his words at his listeners. 
 Only occasionally did he employ a gesture, but, 
 when he did, it was vigorous and wholly French. 
 Having finished a forceful address, he either 
 sank back panting into his great golden chair, or, 
 if he desired to check further debate, he would 
 state the resolution or decision agreed upon by 
 the Council of Ten before the session, and with- 
 out a moment's delay exclaim, "Adopte." He 
 would then, before any one could interrupt, take 
 up the next item on the agenda, or else add, 
 "Ajourne." 
 
 Free debate and actual voting by the delegates 
 had no place in the proceedings with M. Clemen- 
 ceau in the chair. There was an occasional 
 attempt at discussion, but the Clemenceau 
 method discouraged it. After listening with a 
 tolerant manner and with his half-closed eyes 
 turned toward the ceiling, the old French auto- 
 
 [ 18 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 crat would slowly rise from his chair, glare 
 fiercely about the room as if to say, " We have 
 had enough of this," and ask whether any one 
 else desired to speak; and then, before another 
 delegate could collect his wits and get to his feet, 
 he would snap out the inevitable "Adopts." 
 That always ended it. 
 
 This procedure was the easier because the 
 assembled delegates knew that the proposed 
 measures which appeared on the agenda or were 
 read by the President of the Conference or the 
 Secretary General had been considered and ap- 
 proved by the Council of Ten before being sub- 
 mitted. In the face of this united approval of the 
 Five Great Powers opposition crumbled. The 
 possibility of offending the ruling oligarchy or the 
 futility of attempting to reverse their decisions 
 caused most of the delegates to remain silent. A 
 few, more courageous than their fellows, such as 
 Hymans, of Belgium, Bratiano, of Rumania, and 
 Hughes, of Australia, dared to speak their minds 
 until the Old Tiger showed his teeth and growled 
 out, il Adopte. y ' Then they, too, succumbed. 
 
 Altogether a plenary session of the Conference 
 on the Preliminaries of Peace was a farce. It was 
 never a deliberative assembly which reached an 
 
 [ 19 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 agreement by a frank exchange of views. The 
 delegates were called together to listen, not to 
 criticize or object, to the programme of the Coun- 
 cil of Ten. They were there to go through the 
 formality of registering their approval, whatever 
 their real opinions might be. It was medieval 
 rather than modern; despotic rather than demo- 
 cratic. It was in one sense a farce, but in another 
 it was a tragedy. 
 
 To carry through a proceeding of this sort 
 required a masterful man like M. Clemenceau. 
 President Wilson could never have done it. Even 
 his nature, which resents opposition, would have 
 found such methods repugnant to his sense of 
 right and fair play. I doubt if Mr. Lloyd George 
 could have done it. But M. Clemenceau suffered 
 from no qualms of indecision. His fixed deter- 
 mination and driving force were just the qualities 
 needful to crush opposition and to compel sub- 
 mission. He drove toward the goal, heedless 
 of the obstacles in the way, and supremely con- 
 fident in his ability to attain the object sought. 
 These were the characteristics which made him 
 the great War Minister of France even when the 
 German hosts, flushed with successes, were 
 sweeping toward Paris. These were the eharac- 
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 teristics which gained him the applause of the 
 world and the adoration of the French people. 
 It is no exaggeration to say that in the dark days 
 of 1918 the indomitable courage and stern will 
 of M. Clemenceau were the greatest assets of 
 France, for the fire of his spirit ran through the 
 nation, inspiring confidence and determination. 
 But these characteristics, of so great value during 
 the war, were the ones which he unfortunately 
 employed as President of the Conference. They 
 succeeded, but the success was at a sacrifice 
 which was far too great. 
 
 M. Clemenceau, the believer in the primacy of 
 the Great Powers, which he succeeded in putting 
 into practical operation in the Council of Ten, 
 and even more completely in the Council of Four, 
 saw with satisfaction the same idea perpetuated 
 in the Council of the League of Nations. To 
 be the executive of such an oligarchy in the Peace 
 Conference he was specially equipped by experi- 
 ence, by temperament, and by resourcefulness. 
 His nature was that of a despot. 
 
 I imagine that he viewed the sessions of the 
 Conference as expedient in order to satisfy the 
 sentimental idea that every nation which had 
 actually participated in the war against Germany 
 
 [21 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 should have a voice in making peace, but he de- 
 termined that the voices of the small belligerents 
 should be merely echoes of the expressed will of 
 the Great Powers. He manifestly believed that 
 those who possessed the superior military and 
 naval strength had the sole right to make peace 
 with the Central Alliance. He did not propose to 
 hazard the interests of France by submitting 
 the treaty terms to the body of delegates for 
 decision. Having won the war, he did not intend 
 to have France lose the peace. 
 
 Skeptical as M. Clemenceau seemed to be of 
 the actual force of moral obligation and of ab- 
 stract justice in international relations, he con- 
 ceived that the practical way was for the five 
 principal Powers to take and keep entire con- 
 trol of the negotiations and to perpetuate their 
 control by means of a concert of the Great 
 Powers, or, if it made any one happier, by a 
 Council of a League of Nations, which was the 
 same thing if it recognized the primacy of the 
 Five Powers. In my judgment that is what 
 M. Clemenceau sought from the beginning, and 
 that is what he obtained. Less far-seeing than he 
 and less appreciative of the great advantages to 
 France of the creation of such an oligarchy, the 
 
 [ 22 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 military element in France, led by Marshal Foch 
 and his political friends, were insistent on making 
 the Rhine the boundary with Germany, the Mar- 
 shal even going so far as to denounce the treaty 
 in a plenary session because this provision was 
 not included. But M. Clemenceau knew that the 
 unity of the Great Powers was a stronger protec- 
 tion to his country than the military occupation 
 of territory whose inhabitants would remain 
 hostile and seek the first opportunity to throw off 
 the yoke of French sovereignty. He knew that 
 if he insisted on the Foch programme it would 
 result in the loss of the unity which he desired 
 and would greatly weaken the influence of France 
 in the Council of the Powers. Wisdom and ex- 
 pediency from the French point of view endorsed 
 the course taken by the French Premier. He 
 endeavored nevertheless to remove all popular 
 opposition aroused by the militarists by nego- 
 tiating treaties of protective alliance with the 
 United States and Great Britain, but in this he 
 was only partially successful, as the extreme 
 militarists continued their demand for the cession 
 of the territory west of the Rhine in spite of the 
 treaties. 
 
 It is not my purpose to repeat the opinions of 
 [ 23 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 the delegates of small nations concerning the 
 organization and procedure of the Peace Con- 
 ference and the way M. Clemenceau conducted 
 the plenary sessions. It is enough to say that 
 they were astonished, indignant, and depressed 
 at their treatment, but dared not publicly com- 
 plain of their wrongs, though in private their 
 bitterness was expressed in strong terms. The 
 invectives were chiefly directed against M. Cle- 
 menceau because of his " brutal and unheard- 
 of conduct " as President of the Conference, 
 though they must have known that he was only 
 the instrument of the arbitrary power which had 
 been taken over by the Councils. The resentment 
 of the delegates increased as weeks lengthened 
 into months while they sat idly cooling their heels 
 and awaiting the decrees of the Great Powers. 
 Having no alternative they assented when they 
 were told to assent, and they also signed when 
 they were directed to sign, the Chinese delegates 
 alone refusing to place their signatures to the 
 treaty of peace. It was a succession of humilia- 
 tions for the independent states, whose delegates 
 sat at the peace table presumably to register the 
 sovereign wills of their respective nations, but 
 in fact to obey the commands of the Great Pow- 
 
 [ 24 ] 
 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 ers under the direction of the forceful old states- 
 man of France. It is true that these nations were 
 represented on various commissions, but the com- 
 missions possessed no authority to decide a ques- 
 tion. That authority rested with the Councils. 
 
 But Clemenceau presiding over the Council of 
 Ten was a different Clemenceau from him who 
 presided over the plenary sessions of the Confer- 
 ence on the Preliminaries of Peace. The Council, 
 except on rare occasions when there were a great 
 number of military and naval experts present, 
 met in the room occupied as an office by 
 M. Pichon, the French Minister of Foreign Affairs. 
 On the south side of this room wide windows, 
 extending from the floor to the lofty ceiling, 
 looked out upon the trees and shrubbery of a 
 small court. The three other sides were cov- 
 ered above the dark wainscoting with richly 
 colored tapestries, which in allegory portrayed 
 events in the life of Henry IV. In the center of 
 the north side two sets of double doors opened 
 into one of the large antechambers facing the 
 Quai d'Orsay. The doors on the inside of the 
 thick wall were connected by brass rods with 
 corresponding doors on the outer side, so that 
 the two opened together. When they were closed, 
 
 [ 25 J 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 M. Pichon's room was practically sound-proof. 
 The council chamber was approximately thirty 
 feet from east to west and over twenty feet wide. 
 Near the western end and several feet from a 
 handsome fireplace, in which a wood fire blazed 
 on cold days, was M. Pichon's ornate desk, or 
 rather table. At this sat M. Clemenceau in a low- 
 backed armchair. Behind him Professor Man- 
 toux, the gifted interpreter of the Conference, 
 sat at a small table. Near Professor Mantoux 
 and toward the south side of the room sat 
 M. Pichon in a high-backed armchair. Along the 
 south side of the room were the other members 
 of the Council, with their backs to the windows, 
 arranged in the following order — the Americans, 
 the British, the Italians, and the Japanese. 
 They sat in great chairs similar to that occupied 
 by M. Pichon, and had in front of them small 
 tables for their papers and maps. Behind the 
 members of the Council, in the embrasures of the 
 windows and also along the east side of the room, 
 were their secretaries and the expert advisers 
 whom they had asked to attend the session. On 
 the north side near the western end of the room 
 sat M. Dutasta, the Secretary General, and three 
 or four French assistants. Also on the north side 
 
 [ 26 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 close to the entrance doors were chairs for 
 delegates, commissioners, and other persons who 
 might be summoned to present their cases or 
 make their reports to the Council. As a rule from 
 twenty to thirty-five people were present at each 
 session, though on occasions all retired except 
 the ten members. 
 
 This is a rude picture of the place of meeting 
 of the Council of Ten over which M. Clemenceau 
 presided. But, as I said, he was a different man 
 from the man who directed the proceedings of a 
 plenary session. Within the council chamber his 
 domineering manner, his brusqueness of speech, 
 and his driving methods of conducting business 
 disappeared. He showed patience and considera- 
 tion toward his colleagues and seldom spoke until 
 the others had expressed their views. It was only 
 on rare occasions that he abandoned his suavity 
 of address and allowed his emotions to affect his 
 utterances. It was then only that one caught a 
 glimpse of the ferocity of The Tiger. But these 
 incidents were very unusual, as M. Clemenceau 
 was generally conciliatory and disposed to find 
 some common ground for compromise. His 
 manifest purpose was to obtain unanimity by 
 mutual concessions. 
 
 [ 27 J 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 After a long debate, in which several members 
 of the Council had taken part, M. Clemenceau 
 would turn to the one who had offered the 
 original proposal and ask expectantly in English, 
 "Do you agree? " If the proposer showed that 
 he was not satisfied, M. Clemenceau would gaze 
 at the ceiling and patiently listen to further dis- 
 cussion. If it became apparent that no agree- 
 ment could be reached, he would ask for sugges- 
 tions as to the course to be taken. If, however, 
 the author of the proposal was satisfied with the 
 changes offered in debate, M. Clemenceau would 
 put the same question to others who had taken 
 part in the discussion, and if no objection was 
 raised his face would light up and he would 
 exclaim, "Bien! C'est adcrpU." It was then the 
 duty of the Secretary General and the secretaries 
 of the delegations to reduce the final decision to 
 writing, by no means an easy task if it was a 
 patchwork of debate. 
 
 The proceedings of the Council of Ten were 
 very informal, although an official agenda was 
 prepared for each session, nominally by the 
 secretaries acting together, though in fact it was 
 done by M. Dutasta in consultation with officials 
 of the French Foreign Office. Thus M. Clemen- 
 
 [ 28 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 ceau and his advisers substantially regulated 
 the subjects discussed by the Council of Ten. 
 The truth is that the agenda seldom reached the 
 members of the Council long enough before the 
 session for them to study thoroughly or in detail 
 the subjects listed for discussion. Naturally this 
 gave a decided advantage to the French, who 
 included in the agenda only subjects which they 
 were fully prepared to discuss. It was practically 
 impossible to have placed on the agenda a sub- 
 ject which officials of the French Foreign Office 
 were not ready to consider or which they believed 
 it would be for the interests of France to postpone 
 until certain other matters had been decided. 
 
 Of course M. Clemenceau, alive to everything 
 which worked to the advantage of France and 
 skillful in handling situations of all sorts, 
 succeeded in carrying through the French pro- 
 gramme; and he did it without exciting opposi- 
 tion among his colleagues. They might and, in a 
 few cases, did grumble and complain outside the 
 Council as to the way matters were being 
 handled, but in M. Pichon's room the suavity, 
 good nature, and unfailing courtesy of The Tiger 
 silenced those who were dissatisfied. In the 
 endeavor to match the shrewd old statesman in 
 
 I 29 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 politeness and geniality they failed to use these 
 qualities in the way that he did. He used them 
 to disarm his opponents and prevent vigorous 
 objection. His colleagues used them to soften 
 the blows which they intended to deliver. 
 M. Clemenceau won. 
 
 As a master of the fine art of flattery none 
 could equal the French Premier. It was interest- 
 ing to see how accurately he estimated the per- 
 sonal peculiarities of his colleagues and how 
 tactfully he regulated his intercourse accordingly. 
 With President Wilson he was, at least in the 
 Council of Ten, politely deferential, but never 
 subservient; with Mr. Lloyd George he showed 
 his wit and sometimes his sarcasm; with the 
 Italians he was cynical and caustic and not in- 
 frequently vehement; and with the Japanese, 
 indifferent or patiently tolerant. He had read 
 with remarkable keenness the temperament and 
 the characteristics of each, and seemed to under- 
 stand the best way to deal with each one. 
 
 The personality of M. Clemenceau was dis- 
 tinctly attractive. His genial friendliness, his 
 mental alertness, and his sparkling wit made him 
 always an agreeable companion and an interest- 
 ing conversationalist. It is true that his wit was 
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
Clemenccau 
 
 sometimes biting and cruel. He did not check 
 his fondness for uttering clever sayings because 
 they conveyed unpleasant truths or wounded 
 the sensibilities of those at whom they were 
 directed. But he was always careful to avoid 
 offending one whose power he recognized or 
 whose favor he sought. President Wilson, for 
 example, was never in my presence a target for 
 his sarcastic remarks, while his own officials and 
 military advisers, even Marshal Foch, were often 
 the subjects of jests and rebukes which, delivered 
 before the Council, caused them exceeding 
 mortification and invited in some cases angry 
 retorts. He was at times so harsh and sarcastic 
 in his language that his listeners felt incensed 
 that he took an occasion when they were present 
 to humiliate his subordinates. 
 
 Yet in spite of these exhibitions of temper, 
 embarrassing as they were, one could not but 
 admire the sturdy old veteran, whose political 
 life had been one of continual tumult and strife. 
 No public man in France had had so stormy a 
 career as he. He had not won his high place by 
 making friends with politicians; he had won it 
 by trampling down his enemies. He did not owe 
 his success to a political party or to a faction; he 
 
 [ 31 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 owed it to compelling recognition of his personal 
 strength and ability. He simply reveled in the 
 struggles in which he was constantly engaged to 
 maintain his position. He never hesitated to pick 
 up a gage of battle, and he entered the conflict 
 with all the vigor of youth and all the sagacity 
 of age. 
 
 Whatever may be thought of M. Clemenceau' s 
 policies and methods, it is impossible to deny 
 tribute to his indomitable will and his unwaver- 
 ing optimism as he stood alone and defiant during 
 many of the crises which he as Premier was called 
 upon to face. Even those who disliked him in- 
 tensely could not refuse him unwilling praise for 
 his devotion and service to France, while the 
 enthusiastic shouts of "Clemenceau! Clemen- 
 ceau ! " whenever he appeared in public, testified 
 to a popularity which silenced his enemies and 
 made his premiership secure. 
 
 I cannot better describe M. Clemenceau's 
 personal appearance than to say that he sug- 
 gested in face and figure a Chinese mandarin of 
 the old empire. I say this with all respect for the 
 man whom I would describe. He had the sallow 
 complexion, the prominent high cheek-bones, the 
 massive forehead with protuberant brows, the 
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
Clemenccau 
 
 slant of the dark eyes, the long, down-curving 
 gray mustache, the short neck, the broad, 
 rounded shoulders, and the bulky body. As he 
 sat in the council chamber with his clenched 
 gloved hands resting on the arms of his chair, his 
 eyes with their raised brows and heavy, drooping 
 lids, and his features immobile and expression- 
 less, he might have been the model for a bronze 
 Chinese statue of Buddha. He was a striking 
 type, indicative of intellectual force, of self- 
 mastery, and of cold, merciless will power. 
 Massive, Mongolian, and impassive, he watched 
 the course of events with Oriental stoicism and 
 calculated with the unerring instinct of the West- 
 ern mind where lay the interests of France, to 
 which his thought and energies were consecrated. 
 It is not strange or doubtful, when one dissects 
 the character of this remarkable man, that he 
 dominated the Peace Conference and the Coun- 
 cils at Paris. He possessed the essential qualities 
 of great leadership. He knew when to be defiant 
 and when to placate. He was preeminently 
 practical and material. He was cynical of the 
 real value of the idealism which had been so 
 widely applauded and which many of the dele- 
 gates supported with enthusiasm so long as it did 
 
 [ 33 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 not interfere with the material interests of their 
 countries. He tolerated these ideals because it 
 was the expedient thing to do. He showed, in 
 what he sought and in what he accomplished 
 rather than in what he said, that he believed that 
 selfishness was the supreme impulse with nations 
 as with individuals, and that it was the only real 
 factor to be reckoned with. Altruism was well 
 enough to talk about because it was pleasing to 
 some people, but to construct international so- 
 ciety on such a foundation was to deny human 
 nature. He was in no sense a visionary. 
 
 The League of Nations to M. Clemenceau — if 
 I read his mind correctly — was a Utopian dream 
 of impractical theorists, until a concert of the 
 Great Powers was incorporated in the covenant 
 and the United States and Great Britain agreed 
 to enter into treaties to come to the aid of France 
 in the event that Germany should again attack 
 her. From the time that these treaties of protec- 
 tion were arranged, and his country had no 
 longer to depend for its security upon the un- 
 certain guaranty of the covenant, M. Clemen- 
 ceau supported, or rather did not oppose, the 
 League of Nations. He probably thought that it 
 might have some practical uses in carrying out 
 
 [ 34 1 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 the terms of the treaty. If the authors and 
 sponsors wished to try out their theory, he had 
 no objections, provided there was nothing in the 
 covenant which weakened or lessened the ma- 
 terial advantages obtained for France in the terms 
 of the peace. 
 
 He watched calmly and with little comment 
 the formulation of the League by the Commission 
 on the League of Nations, over which President 
 Wilson presided, but I imagine that he did so 
 with a scornful cynicism for the work of those 
 who, he doubtless thought, were wasting their 
 time on a dream. Had the authors of the cov- 
 enant attempted, however, to modify his pur- 
 poses, there can be little doubt that there would 
 have been an explosion and the covenant would 
 have had a difficult road to travel before it was 
 accepted. 
 
 His fixity of purpose, his practicality, his 
 tolerance of harmless altruism, his mental vital- 
 ity and keenness of perception, together with 
 the other traits of character to which I have re- 
 ferred, made M. Clemenceau the most influential 
 personality in the Paris Conference. He suc- 
 ceeded in nearly everything that he undertook. 
 When it made no difference to France or to 
 
 [ 35 ] 
 
Clemenceau 
 
 French interests, he might argue and debate and 
 finally give up the point; but if the real interests 
 of France, as he saw them, were in the slightest 
 degree affected, he never surrendered. His 
 patriotism like his materialism was extreme. No 
 one can honestly deny the superior influence 
 which the rugged old statesman exerted from 
 first to last over his distinguished confreres. 
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
II 
 
 WILSON 
 
 For obvious reasons it is harder for me to analyze 
 the character of President Wilson as manifested 
 in his conduct at Paris than it is the character 
 of any one of his colleagues in the Council of the 
 Heads of States. It was only as I reviewed the 
 results of the negotiations that I came to a 
 realization of the difficulty, if not the impossibil- 
 ity, of harmonizing his avowed intentions with 
 what seemed to satisfy him. As a consequence, in 
 a character study of this sort, the facts do not 
 always seem to justify the conclusions. Then, 
 too, opinion is often based on deductions which 
 depend more upon impressions than on direct 
 evidence. I may have drawn erroneous conclu- 
 sions and may therefore be wrong in my judg- 
 ments; that I am willing to admit; but it is my 
 earnest purpose to be entirely impartial and to 
 avoid any personal bias in the discussion of a 
 man with whom I was so long and so closely 
 associated. 
 
 A real difficulty in portraying President Wilson 
 f 37 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 as he was in Paris is that certain traits of his 
 character, which had been so prominent in his 
 public career prior to that time, seem to have 
 been suppressed or submerged in the new 
 environment. Whether this was intentional or 
 involuntary I do not know; and really it makes 
 no difference. The fact is that the President 
 appeared changed after he landed in France. 
 Clearly it is difficult not to be unconsciously 
 influenced by impressions gained prior to the 
 Paris days and not to weave those memories 
 into an estimate of Mr. Wilson when he was 
 engaged in the task of negotiating the terms of 
 the treaty of peace with Germany. 
 
 It is not my purpose to discuss the wisdom of 
 the President's attending the Peace Conference 
 and of conducting in person the negotiations. As 
 to that there will always be, I presume, a diver- 
 gence of opinion. There are valid arguments on 
 both sides of the question. I can only say that 
 the day after the armistice was signed, I had a 
 conference with the President in his study at the 
 White House, during which I took occasion to 
 tell him that in my judgment it would be a 
 serious mistake for him to sit at the peace table, 
 and I went fully into my reasons for so advising 
 
 [ 38 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 hiin. Six days later — November 18, 1918 — the 
 President came to my residence and told me that, 
 after considering the matter very carefully, he 
 had determined to go to the Conference, and had 
 given out a public announcement of his intention. 
 My judgment as to the President's personal par- 
 ticipation in the negotiations and his absence 
 from the United States for so long a period is the 
 same now as it was the day I expressed it. I 
 leave others to decide how far it has been justified 
 by subsequent events. At the same time I wish 
 to show that the President's decision to exercise 
 in person his constitutional right to conduct the 
 foreign affairs of the United States was not the 
 result of impulse, but was reached after thought- 
 ful deliberation, and doubtless the manifesta- 
 tions of approval by the French people of his 
 presence at Paris convinced him that he had 
 decided wisely. 
 
 No man ever received a more demonstrative 
 welcome than did Mr. Wilson from the moment 
 that the George Washington entered the harbor 
 of Brest. It was a great popular ovation. His 
 name was on every lip; throngs of admirers 
 applauded him as he entered the special train for 
 Paris, and at the stations en route; and multi- 
 
 [ 39 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 tudes, delirious with enthusiasm, cheered him a 
 welcome as he drove through the beflagged 
 streets of the French capital in company with 
 President Poincare, who met him at the Gare du 
 Bois de Boulogne. It was a reception which 
 might have turned the head of a man far less 
 responsive than the President was to public ap- 
 plause, and have given him an exalted opinion 
 of his own power of accomplishment and of his 
 individual responsibility to mankind. It is fair, 
 I think, to assume that this was the effect on 
 the President. It was the natural one. 
 
 This convincing evidence of his personal popu- 
 larity, which was vastly increased by his sub- 
 sequent visits to London and Rome, doubtless 
 confirmed him in the belief that, with the people 
 of the three principal Allied Powers so unani- 
 mously behind him, the statesmen of those 
 countries would hardly dare to oppose his ideas 
 as to the terms of peace. I think that there were 
 ample grounds for this belief. 
 
 The trouble was that the President was not 
 prepared to seize the opportunity and to capital- 
 ize this general popular support. He came to 
 Paris without, so far as I know, a definite outline 
 of a treaty with Germany. He did have a draft 
 
 [ 40 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 of a covenant of a league of nations, but it was 
 a crude and undigested plan, as is evident by a 
 comparison of it with the document finally re- 
 ported to the Conference on the Preliminaries of 
 Peace. He, of course, had his famous Fourteen 
 Points, and the declarations appearing in his 
 subsequent addresses as bases of the peace, but 
 they were little more than a series of principles 
 and policies to guide in the drafting of actual 
 terms. As to a complete projct, or even an out- 
 line of terms which could be laid before the 
 delegates for consideration, he apparently had 
 none; in fact when this lack was felt by members 
 of the American Commission they undertook 
 to have their legal advisers prepare a skeleton 
 treaty, but had to abandon the work after it was 
 well under way because the President resented 
 the idea, asserting emphatically that he did not 
 intend to allow lawyers to draw the treaty, a 
 declaration that discouraged those of the pro- 
 fession from volunteering suggestions as to the 
 covenant and other articles of the treaty. The 
 President, not having done the preliminary work 
 himself, and unwilling to have others do it, was 
 wholly unprepared to submit anything in con- 
 crete form to the European statesmen, unless 
 
 [41 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 it was his imperfect plan for a league of nations. 
 The consequence was that the general scheme of 
 the treaty and many of the important articles 
 were prepared and worked out by the British 
 and French delegations. Thus the exceptional 
 opportunity which the President had to impress 
 his ideas on the Conference, and to lead in the 
 negotiations, was lost, and he failed to maintain 
 his controlling position among the statesmen who 
 were, as it turned out, to dictate the terms of 
 peace; while his utterances, which had been the 
 foundation of his popularity, suffered in a meas- 
 ure the same fate. 
 
 If the President had adopted the customary 
 method of negotiation through commissioners 
 instead of pursuing the unusual and in fact un- 
 tried method of personal participation, the 
 situation would have been very different. With- 
 out the President present in Paris detailed in- 
 structions would have been prepared, which 
 could have been modified during the negotiations 
 only by reference to him at Washington. In- 
 structions of that sort would of necessity have 
 been definite. There would have been no uncer- 
 tainty as to the objects sought. But with the 
 President on the ground written instructions 
 
 [ 42 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 seemed to him, and possibly were, superfluous. 
 He was there to decide the attitude of the United 
 States and to give oral directions concerning the 
 minutest detail of the negotiations as the ques- 
 tions arose; and since diplomatic commissioners 
 are in any event only agents of the President and 
 subject always to his instructions, the American 
 commissioners at Paris possessed no right to act 
 independently or to do other than follow the 
 directions which they received, which in this case 
 were given by word of mouth. As these direc- 
 tions were meager and indefinite, and as they 
 did not include a general plan, the situation was 
 unsatisfactory and embarrassing for the Presi- 
 dent's American colleagues. 
 
 I doubt if Mr. Wilson had worked out, even 
 tentatively, the application of the principles and 
 precepts which he had declared while the war 
 was in progress, and which had been generally 
 accepted at the time of the armistice as the bases 
 of peace. The consequence was that he must 
 have had a very vague and nebulous scheme for 
 their introduction into the treaty, because many 
 of his declarations required accurate definition 
 before they could be practically applied to the 
 problems which awaited solution by the Con- 
 
 [43J 
 
Wilson 
 
 ference. Naturally there was an atmosphere 
 of uncertainty and a feeling of helplessness in 
 approaching the treaty terms which prevented 
 the American commissioners from pressing for 
 definite objects. The whole delegation, the 
 President included, lost prestige and influence 
 with the foreign delegates by this lack of a 
 programme. 
 
 Here is shown one of the inherent weaknesses 
 of Mr. Wilson which impaired his capacity as the 
 head of a diplomatic commission to negotiate 
 so intricate a settlement as the treaty with 
 Germany. ' He was inclined to let matters drift, 
 relying apparently on his own quickness of 
 perception and his own sagacity to defeat or 
 amend terms proposed by members of other 
 delegations. From first to last there was no 
 teamwork, no common counsel, and no concerted 
 action. It was discouraging to witness this utter 
 lack of system, when system was so essential. 
 The reason was manifest. There was no directing 
 head to the American Commission to formulate 
 a plan, to organize the work and to issue definite 
 instructions. 
 
 It is my belief that this fault in the conduct of 
 the negotiations, so far as the United States is 
 
 [ 44 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 concerned, was responsible in no small degree for 
 some of the more undesirable settlements which 
 were incorporated in the treaty of peace. The 
 other heads of states held long daily conferences 
 with their fellow commissioners and principal 
 expert advisers, at which pending questions were 
 debated at length and opinions were freely ex- 
 pressed as to the attitude which should be as- 
 sumed in view of the national interests involved. 
 Not so the President. He seldom met the Ameri- 
 can commissioners as a body — in fact, only nine 
 times prior to his first return to the United States 
 on February 14th — and then, except in regard to 
 the covenant, the discussions were desultory and 
 of a general character except on two or three 
 occasions. The President at these meetings did 
 most of the talking, seldom asking advice. They 
 left an impression of doubt as to just what he was 
 seeking to obtain. They might have been, but 
 were not, useful. During the entire period of the 
 negotiations President Wilson summoned the 
 i experts to meet as a body with the American 
 Commission only once, on June 3d, when the 
 German and Austrian treaties were completed. 
 
 The President's method of utilizing the knowl- 
 edge of others was this: If he wished advice he 
 
 [ 45 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 called on the individual whom he thought espe- 
 cially qualified to give it — though he sometimes 
 erred in his choice — and discussed the subject 
 with him in a private interview, or else he asked 
 the expert to prepare for him a confidential 
 memorandum. The result of the interview the 
 President did not disclose, but the commissioners 
 sometimes obtained from the adviser an oral 
 account of what took place or a copy of the 
 memorandum which he had furnished. There 
 was, therefore, no consensus of opinion by the 
 commission, and no general discussion of a 
 question. The President, in fact, constituted 
 himself an exclusive repository of all information, 
 opinions, and speculations, to which no one else 
 had access. It was entirely a personal matter 
 with him. It seems to me to be a fair assumption 
 that he argued that, a|Jhe alone had the respon- 
 sibility under the Constitution, it was for him to 
 make up his mind independently as to the course 
 which should be taken, and that it was time 
 enough to tell the other American commissioners 
 what that course would be after he had deter- 
 mined it. Unfortunately, he did not always 
 disclose his decision even when he reached one, 
 though on more than one occasion he seemed 
 
 [46 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 surprised that his colleagues were ignorant of his 
 views, which they could have gained only by 
 intuition or in some cases by deduction. 
 
 The aloofness of Mr. Wilson, his apparent dis- 
 like for consultations until circumstances made 
 them unavoidable, and his manifest desire and 
 purpose to remain isolated were not new traits in 
 his character. They had been recognized and not 
 infrequently commented upon long before we 
 went to Paris, but the circumstances surrounding 
 an international conference of such magnitude as 
 the Peace Conference and the imperative need of 
 close personal intercourse between associates in 
 the conduct of the negotiations emphasized these 
 peculiarities of the President's nature and seri- 
 ously handicapped the activities of the American 
 commissioners. ' 
 
 The foregoing consideration of the President's 
 relations to the other American commissioners 
 explains in a large measure the reason for his 
 failure to retain the first place in the Conference, 
 which he undoubtedly held when he first arrived 
 in France. He was unable to avail himself of the 
 opportunity offered by his unique position be- 
 cause of this defect in his mental attitude toward 
 cooperation. Though he frequently sought the 
 
 [47 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 advice of Colonel House, at least during the early 
 stages of the negotiations, he remained a solitary 
 and secluded man, preferring to bear his burdens 
 alone. 
 
 The consequences were those which might 
 have been expected. M. Clemenceau, and in a 
 lesser degree Mr. Lloyd George, took the initia- 
 tive on practically all subjects requiring settle- 
 ment except as to those before commissions of the 
 Conference, and even in the case of the Com- 
 mission on the League of Nations, of which the 
 President was the presiding officer, the initiative 
 apparently passed from him to General Smuts 
 and Lord Robert Cecil. Thus the United States 
 was forced into the position of following instead 
 of leading in the drafting of the terms formulated 
 in the Council of Four, a position which was as 
 unnecessary as it was unfortunate. 
 
 There can be little doubt that President 
 Wilson expected to find in the principal states- 
 men of Europe, at least in a measure, the same 
 philanthropic and altruistic motives which he 
 possessed to so high a degree. In the correspond- 
 ence during the war the Allies had responded to 
 his appeals and declarations in a tone of lofty 
 idealism similar to that which he had used. I 
 
 [48 J 
 
Wilson 
 
 believe that he assumed that moral right would 
 be the controlling factor in the settlements at 
 Paris, and that even the enemy would be treated 
 fairly, if not generously, in order that the peace 
 might be erected on permanent foundations. 
 Entertaining idealistic motives and unfortu- 
 nately lacking practical experience in international 
 negotiations, the President did not appear to 
 appreciate at the first that the aims of his foreign 
 colleagues were essentially material or to realize 
 that their expressions of high principle were 
 merely an assent to a moral standard which they 
 thought basicly right, but at present impractica- 
 ble. The result was that he assented to certain 
 arrangements before he became aware of the 
 selfishness, if not the greed, which was so evi- 
 dently a frequent impulse of many of the Euro- 
 pean delegates in formulating their demands or 
 supporting those of others. Having once passed 
 his word in regard to a decision, his high sense of 
 honor or possibly an unwillingness to admit his 
 error prevented him from withdrawing it. 
 
 Obsessed with the idea that the organization 
 of a league of nations was the supreme object to 
 be attained at the Paris Conference, the Presi- 
 dent devoted his time, his effort, and his influence 
 
 [ 49 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 to drafting its charter and removing or neutraliz- 
 ing the objections which stood in the way of its 
 acceptance. At the first he conferred with the 
 other American commissioners in regard to the 
 covenant, but on finding them, except possibly 
 Colonel House, more or less skeptical as to the 
 practical operation of the organization which he 
 had planned in collaboration with Lord Robert 
 Cecil and General Smuts, and disposed to offer 
 suggestions materially modifying the plan, he 
 showed that he preferred only the cooperation of 
 those who unreservedly believed in his draft. It 
 was very apparent that he did not desire counsel 
 and criticism, but approval and commendation 
 of the covenant. It was unfortunate for the 
 President and for the League that he took this 
 attitude, as subsequent events proved. 
 
 As the leaders of the Allied Powers, with their 
 practical ideas, came to a realization of the situ- 
 ation and saw that the President was willing to 
 concede much in exchange for support of the 
 covenant, they utilized his supreme desire to ob- 
 tain by barter material advantages for their own 
 nations. From the results of the negotiations it 
 may be deduced that by clever representations 
 they gained concession after concession. The 
 
 [ 50 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 apparent support of the idealism of the President 
 by these statesmen was in my opinion chiefly for 
 a purpose and not out of conviction. They loudly 
 applauded the President's declarations of prin- 
 ciple as the just bases of peace, but they never 
 once attempted to apply them unless their own 
 national interests were advanced. They praised 
 the covenant as a wonderful document, as the 
 Magna Charta of the world, as an eternal 
 memorial to its author, and they subtly flattered 
 the President by confiding to the League every 
 question which could not be immediately solved, v 
 ostensibly to show their faith in the proposed 
 organization, but really to postpone the settle- 
 ment of dangerous disputes. 
 
 M. Clemenceau, who had frankly declared in 
 favor of the doctrine of the balance of power, was 
 satisfied with either General Smuts's plan or that 
 of Lord Robert Cecil, since both provided for the 
 perpetuation of the Supreme War Council as the 
 Council of the League and for the recognition of 
 the primacy of the Great Powers over all in- 
 ternational affairs for the future. Mr. Lloyd 
 George, provided the colonial ambitions and 
 commercial interests of the British Empire were 
 satisfied before the guaranty of the covenant 
 
 [51 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 became operative, complacently gave his support 
 to the document as a means of making more 
 permanent British possession of the ceded ter- 
 ritories. Signor Orlando, assured of the dis- 
 memberment of the Austro-Hungarian Empire 
 and the resulting delivery into the hands of Italy 
 of the economic life of German Austria, and hope- 
 ful of being given substantial control of the 
 Adriatic, and confident of obtaining sovereignty 
 over the Tyrol by insisting on the fulfillment of 
 the Pact of London, rejoiced in a guaranty which 
 seemed to ensure, for a time at least, the widened 
 boundaries of Italy. The Japanese were equally 
 willing to unite in a mutual guaranty on con- 
 dition that their country obtained and was 
 protected in the possession of the German rights 
 in Shantung and in its sovereignty over the 
 German islands in the Pacific Ocean north of 
 the equator, though I am convinced that Japan 
 would never have withdrawn from the Confer- 
 ence or abandoned her position as one of the Five 
 I Great Powers, whatever disposition had been 
 I made of her claims. 
 
 While selfish interest undoubtedly impelled 
 the principal Allied Powers to adhere to the 
 covenant and to become members of the League 
 
 [52] 
 
Wilson 
 
 of Nations, the United States was free from 
 such influences. It had no territorial or trade 
 ambitions to advance. The American people 
 desired a just peace because it would remove 
 causes for war; they desired the creation, of 
 an international organization which would at 
 least hinder, if it could not actually prevent, 
 future wars. 
 
 The ideas of the President, when he left the 
 United States in December, 1918, were undoubt- 
 edly in general accord with the thought and 
 desire of the majority of his countrymen as to 
 the terms of peace. I do not mean that his plan 
 for a league of nations, which he carried with 
 him, but which he had not then made public, was 
 in accord with that thought and desire. It may 
 have been or it may not have been. No one can 
 tell as to that. But I believe that nearly all 
 Americans hoped and expected that some sort 
 of an association of nations would be created at 
 Paris. As to the form and functions of the asso- 
 ciation, public opinion in the United States had 
 not then crystallized.' 
 
 It was not until the covenant as finally re- 
 ported was found to contain a mutual guaranty 
 of territory and independence, together with 
 
 [53 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 other features which were claimed to be contrary 
 to American interests and to the traditional 
 policies of the United States, if they were not 
 actually violative of the Constitution, that the 
 President's interpretation of the popular will was 
 seriously questioned. When, in addition to this 
 opposition to the covenant, — which was seized 
 upon with avidity by Mr. Wilson's personal and 
 political enemies as an opportunity to discredit 
 him at home and abroad, — the injustice of 
 certain settlements in the treaties was manifest, 
 the opposition to a guaranty, which might require 
 coercive measures to enforce such settlements, 
 increased and greatly strengthened the oppo- 
 nents of the covenant, and in fact had much 
 to do with preventing the ratification of the 
 treaty in the Senate of the United States. 
 
 If the President had inflexibly demanded that 
 no terms should be written into the treaty which 
 were not wholly just, he would have gone far 
 toward accomplishing the purpose of his mission 
 to Europe. And if he had also advocated a plan 
 for a league of nations which was not open to the 
 charge of establishing a supernational authority, 
 vested to all intents in an oligarchy of the Great 
 Powers, he would have been acclaimed the great- 
 
 [ 54 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 est statesman on earth. Unfortunately for the 
 present generation and for the future peace of 
 the world, he did not pursue this course, but 
 distorted his declared purpose to silence opposi- 
 tion to his ambitious conception of a dominant 
 international organization. The natural con- 
 clusion is that he convinced himself that the 
 covenant as drafted could not be obtained if he 
 insisted on complete justice in all the settlements. 
 He chose the covenant and won support to it by 
 compromise with those who demanded the ma- 
 terial rewards of conquest. 
 
 The courtesy of President Wilson in greeting 
 the members of the Council of Ten and in his 
 intercourse with them during the sessions was 
 unvarying. He never, so far as I can recall, 
 showed anger or impatience. I know, however, 
 that beneath this outward calm the President 
 often seethed with indignation at the way 
 matters progressed, but never by word, ges- 
 ture, or change of countenance did he permit his 
 displeasure or irritation to find open expression. 
 He listened with greater attention to a speaker 
 than did any other man present, and whenever 
 opportunity offered he smiled or told an anecdote 
 which some turn in the debate suggested. He 
 
 [ 55 J 
 
Wilson 
 
 was invariably considerate of the expressed 
 opinions of others, and manifested an open mind 
 in valuing those opinions. 
 
 While these qualities are as a general rule use- 
 ful and admirable in a negotiator, there come 
 times when firmness and frankness are necessary. 
 The failure to insist in certain cases when the 
 conditions of a debate required insistence lost the 
 President an advantage which I am sure he 
 would have otherwise had. Prone to postpone a 
 decision to the last possible moment, he puzzled 
 his colleagues in the Council, who could not 
 understand how so alert a mind needed more 
 time to form an opinion after listening to three 
 hours of discussion. This peculiarity of the 
 President's mental make-up was frequently 
 commented upon by his foreign associates in 
 terms by no means complimentary. 
 
 After a subject had been threshed out by the 
 Council of Ten, often to the point of weariness, 
 M. Clemenceau would often turn to the President 
 and ask his opinion as to the action which ought 
 to be taken. The President would reply without 
 hesitation in precise English, though he usually 
 evaded a decision by a general review of the 
 points made by both sides during the argument. 
 
 [56 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 This he did with clearness and conciseness, show- 
 ing how carefully he had listened to the debate. 
 While I think that the President's presentation 
 showed in a way why he was not prepared to offer 
 a solution to the question, it did not advance the 
 work of the Council. 
 
 When the President ceased speaking, M. Cle- 
 menceau would ask my opinion, then that of Mr. 
 Lloyd George, then that of Mr. Balfour, and so 
 on down the line of members. He would then 
 turn back to the President and ask, " Well, what 
 shall we do? " 
 
 The President frequently answered, " Perhaps 
 it would be well to refer the matter to a com- 
 mittee of experts"; or, "May I ask if any one 
 has prepared a resolution?" 
 
 If the last question was asked, it was apt to 
 bring a response from Mr. Lloyd George, whose 
 secretaries had drafted a resolution while the 
 discussion was in progress. A resolution laid 
 before the Council after a question had been 
 debated was as a rule adopted, at least in 
 principle, though often modified in language. It 
 was therefore a decided advantage to introduce 
 a resolution. The President put aside this ad- 
 vantage by failing to suggest that the same 
 
 [57 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 course be taken by his expert advisers, who were 
 naturally not disposed to follow the practice 
 unless it was at his request. Apparently he felt 
 an independent personal judgment by him was 
 essential and that it would not be independent if 
 he adopted the opinion of others. The conse- 
 quence was that Mr. Lloyd George, who seldom 
 hesitated to accept the views of his experts, in- 
 troduced most of the resolutions other than those 
 prepared by the French, which were generally 
 annexed to the agenda. 
 
 Occasionally, however, M. Clemenceau, after 
 a discussion in which the President had expressed 
 definite views, would ask the latter to draft a 
 resolution embodying his opinion. Mr. Wilson 
 would at once take a pencil and without hesita- 
 tion and without erasures write out in his small, 
 plain hand a resolution couched with exceptional 
 brevity in unambiguous terms. In a proposed 
 measure of this sort the exactness of his thought 
 and his command of language were clearly exhib- 
 ited. Possessing this ability, far surpassing that 
 of any other person attending the Council of Ten, 
 it is all the more deplorable that he did not use 
 it constantly. I do not recall that he prepared a 
 resolution except at the suggestion of M. Cle- 
 
 [58 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 menceau or one of the British delegates. If he 
 prepared one voluntarily, I do not remember the 
 occasion. If he had done so frequently, it would 
 have been he rather than the French or British 
 who initiated action by the Council, and his 
 influence over their decisions would have been 
 marked, which in fact it was not except in a few 
 instances. 
 
 Mr. Wilson during the sessions of the Council 
 of Ten spoke in a low, pleasant voice and without 
 rhetorical effort. As no one rose in speaking, he 
 would lean forward, resting on the arms of his 
 chair, and address his remarks first to one and 
 then to another of his confreres. With fluency and 
 with perfect diction he would present his views 
 in sentences so well rounded that they suggested 
 copper-plate perfection. His accuracy of lan- 
 guage and his positiveness of assertion not in- 
 frequently reminded one of a lecturer imparting 
 knowledge to a class, and gave the impression 
 that he felt that what he said left nothing else 
 to be said. He exhibited the traits of a philoso- 
 pher rather than those of an advocate. He pre- 
 ferred to deal in generalities rather than with 
 facts. His discourses, though essentially aca- 
 demic, were clear and logical. 
 
 [59 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 The one thing that to my mind marred the 
 President's diction was a sort of little chuckle or 
 half laugh which frequently interrupted his flow 
 of language. I never observed this mannerism 
 prior to the first meeting of the heads of states 
 and foreign ministers except on one or two occa- 
 sions. It seemed to be an involuntary act, caused 
 by nervousness or embarrassment. It sounded 
 almost apologetic. Probably those who had not 
 come in frequent contact with the President prior 
 to the Peace Conference never noticed it. To those 
 long acquainted with him it seemed to indicate a 
 loss of some of the assurance and self-confidence 
 which had always been distinguishing charac- 
 teristics of his public career. 
 
 After the division of the Council of Ten into 
 the Council of the Heads of States — the Big 
 Pour — and the Council of Foreign Ministers 
 during the last week in March, 1919, and ap- 
 proximately five weeks before the treaty with 
 Germany was completed, I had little opportunity 
 to see the President's work in conference. That 
 he labored with great industry and took little 
 time for rest and recreation everybody knows. 
 He showed in his face the effect of these unre- 
 mitting efforts. He looked fatigued and worn. 
 
 [60] 
 
Wilson 
 
 Nevertheless he persisted with his characteristic 
 determination. 
 
 The conferences of the Big Four were usually 
 held in the palatial residence on the Place des 
 Etats Unis, which had been provided for the 
 President's use by the French Government. The 
 Four generally met in the library on the ground 
 floor, but if they had several persons present to 
 give them advice on some technical matter, they 
 assembled in the large salon on the second floor. 
 At first the four statesmen met alone. Signor 
 Orlando did not understand English, and Presi- 
 dent Wilson and Mr. Lloyd George had but an 
 imperfect knowledge of French. M. Clemenceau 
 was therefore the only one thoroughly familiar 
 with both languages, and had to act as interpret 
 ter. This was found to be unsatisfactory; so 
 Professor Mantoux was admitted, and later for 
 some reason Sir Maurice Hankey, the secretary 
 of the British War Mission, and also Count 
 Aldrovandi, of the Italian Mission, were per- 
 mitted to be present. Sir Maurice prepared the 
 decisions and the minutes of the meetings. Thus 
 the President, with no secretary present, had to 
 depend on the notes of Hankey if any question 
 arose as to the proceedings. 
 
 [CI ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 Manifestly this was not a safe method of pro- 
 cedure in a negotiation which involved the na- 
 tional interests of different countries and dealt 
 with many complex questions. I do not think 
 that American interests suffered materially, — in 
 fact, knowing the honorable character of Sir 
 Maurice, I am sure that they did not, — but 
 certainly the President took a needless risk in not 
 having an American secretary present to chron- 
 icle the proceedings. It was either a failure 
 to appreciate the importance of having his own 
 record or else it was his inherent tendency to 
 work alone and unaided that induced him to 
 adopt this course, though possibly both influ- 
 enced him. 
 
 * President Wilson entered upon the negotia- 
 tions with a high sense of honor, with altruistic 
 purposes, and with a supreme confidence that 
 his ideals would be written into the treaty of 
 peace. His sense of honor and his altruism he 
 maintained to the very end, in spite of the dis- 
 appointments and discouragements resulting 
 from the spirit of national selfishness which 
 was so controlling in the Conference at Paris. 
 Against this prevailing spirit the President 
 struggled manfully. To an extent he was sue- 
 
 [62 J 
 
Wilson 
 
 cessful, but he not infrequently failed through 
 the secret combinations which were formed 
 against him. At the first his absorption in draft- 
 ing and obtaining assent to the articles relating 
 to the League of Nations caused him apparently 
 to give but superficial consideration to other 
 matters. Everything to his mind, as far as one 
 could judge, depended on completing the cove- 
 nant and on giving to the League an active and 
 therefore a necessary part in carrying out the 
 terms of settlement under the treaty. Agree- 
 ments as to the settlements were apparently of 
 secondary importance to the creation of an 
 agency for the insurance of their performance, 
 and the President's assent seemed to have been 
 secured in certain cases through the menace of 
 opposition to the covenant. 
 
 No doubt Mr. Wilson 'chafed under this 
 method of negotiation, — a method as jold as 
 diplomacy itself, — feeling that he was not re- 
 ceiving the undivided support which he had a 
 right to expect in his efforts to obtain a just 
 peace. His task was arduous and exasperating. 
 If personal toil had been the only thing, he would 
 have been wholly successful. Had he been will- 
 ing to delegate to others the negotiation of some 
 
 [63] 
 
Wilson ' 
 
 of the decisions, important as they were, he 
 would have had leisure to recuperate; but he 
 was not willing. On the contrary, he insisted 
 that everything must be decided by him, that 
 all the threads of the treaty fabric must be in his 
 hands. Others might help him untangle some of 
 the knots and arrange the threads in order, but 
 it was his business alone to weave them into the 
 treaty. He seemed, in fact, to resent any influ- 
 ence exerted upon him to decide a matter in a 
 certain way. He relied on his own judgment, 
 and indicated that suggestion or advice, unless 
 he requested it, was an interference with his 
 freedom of decision and was not acceptable. 
 Whether this attitude was the result of an ab- 
 normal conception of his constitutional respon- 
 sibility for the conduct of international relations, 
 ot of an exaggerated belief in his superior men- 
 tality, I do not pretend to say. 
 
 With the multitude of decisions which had to 
 be rendered, many of which were not only com- 
 plex, but required technical knowledge of a high 
 order, the attempt of a single individual, however 
 gifted, to be the sole arbiter as to the proper 
 American position in regard to them all was at 
 the least perilous. Yet that is what the President 
 
 [ 64 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 tried to be. As he is entitled to credit for many 
 excellent provisions in the treaty because of his 
 steadfastness, so he cannot avoid the blame for 
 the questionable settlements which were in- 
 serted because he failed to object to them or else 
 conceded them through insufficient knowledge 
 or by way of compromise. 
 
 From this general comment I must exclude 
 the financial and economic terms of the treaty. 
 In the adjustment of these difficult questions 
 the American experts took a leading part. It 
 was not an easy matter to find formulae which 
 would harmonize the differences between govern- 
 ments, each of which had its own financial and 
 economic interests to conserve and its own idea 
 as to how this could be done. That an agree- 
 ment was reached, which was accepted by, if 
 not acceptable to, the interested parties, was a 
 notable accomplishment, the credit for which is 
 due in large measure to the Americans on the 
 commissions charged with the discussion and 
 adjustment of these conflicting interests. 
 
 What actually occurred at the meetings of 
 the Council of Four was unknown to the Con- 
 ference as a whole. Nevertheless rumors and 
 reports from time to time sifted through the veil 
 
 [05), 
 
Wilson 
 
 of secrecy which enveloped the proceedings. It 
 is not my purpose to discuss here the secretive- 
 ness of the Council or the impression which it 
 made on the delegates to the Conference and on 
 the public at large. Suffice it for the present 
 to say that the secrecy was well preserved, con- 
 sidering the daily conferences which M. Clemen - 
 ceau, Mr. Lloyd George, and Signor Orlando had 
 with their advisers. The fact is that the Ameri- 
 can commissioners gained practically all their 
 knowledge of the progress of the work of the 
 Council from the gossip of the staffs of other 
 delegations, — as the President, I am informed, 
 declined to let Sir Maurice Hankey furnish any 
 of the American Commission with a copy of his 
 minutes, — or when an American expert or group 
 of experts was requested by the President to be 
 present to discuss technical questions. In view 
 of this ignorance, it would be presumptuous for 
 me to attempt to comment on the traits of 
 character exhibited by the heads of states as they 
 sat in conclave at the President's residence on 
 the Place des Etats Unis. 
 
 That the meetings of the Council of Four were 
 not entirely harmonious may be stated with sub- 
 stantial certainty. On one occasion soon after 
 
 [66 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 the Council was formed, so it was credibly re- 
 ported, the President and M. Clemenceau lost 
 their tempers and the session broke up with a 
 considerable exhibition of feeling. This episode 
 was unpleasant, but it was decidedly human. 
 The wonder is that there were not more incidents 
 of the sort, because some of the members of the 
 Council possessed qualities which were by no 
 means patient under the strain of prolonged 
 deliberations. 
 
 It is my belief that President Wilson's influ- 
 ence had much to do with preserving peace in 
 the Council of Four. Placid and dignified in 
 manner, he impressed upon others a disposition 
 to be calm in expression and to avoid giving way 
 to emotional impulses. In this particular his 
 influence was undoubtedly superior to that of any 
 other man in the Councils or the Conference, and 
 contributed greatly to the amicable settlements 
 of many vexatious disputes which caused per- 
 sonal irritation and which, but for his considerate 
 and temperate attitude, might have ripened into 
 personal quarrels. \ 
 
 The President's foreign colleagues recognized 
 that he was honestly seeking for firm bases for 
 the future peace of the world. Though they 
 
 [07 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 * doubtless thought many of his proposals were 
 impracticable and therefore of doubtful value, 
 they respected their author because of his 
 motives, and each of them in his own way en- 
 deavored to conform his ideas to those of the 
 President in order to gain his moral support.' 
 This was a concession to idealism by the selfish 
 materialism which was so potent in formulating 
 the terms of peace. It bore witness to the general 
 feeling among the delegates to the Conference 
 that Mr. Wilson stood for international morality 
 and justice. 
 
 If the President failed in the full realization of 
 his purposes, it was not out of lack of good inten- 
 tions, but rather because of inexperience in 
 negotiation, of desire to exercise an independent 
 judgment, of exaggeration of the importance of 
 adopting the covenant, and of overconfidence in 
 the motives of others. It was only after the 
 Council of Four had been in session for some 
 time, and after he had committed himself to 
 certain compromises, the justice of which ap- 
 peared to many to be doubtful, that the Presi- 
 dent seemed to awake to the fact that he had 
 overestimated the potency of altruism and of 
 abstract justice in the negotiations. From the 
 
 [68 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 time that lie seemed to come to a realization of 
 the true state of affairs, the statesmen of the 
 Allied Powers found him less pliable and ap- 
 parently less credulous of their announced inten- 
 tions. Up to the end, however, he preserved the 
 geniality of manner and the considerate attitude 
 which had from the first marked his intercourse 
 with the leaders at Paris. 
 
 It was in the plenary sessions of the Confer- 
 ence on the Preliminaries of Peace that the 
 President's personal gifts showed to the greatest 
 advantage. In the presence of the whole body 
 of delegates his ability as a speaker, his attrac- 
 tive and convincing style of expression, and his 
 dignity of manner made a profound impression 
 on his listeners. He was more at home in ad- 
 dressing a large audience, such as he had at a 
 plenary session, than he was sitting at the council 
 table under the cross-fire of debate. He, of all 
 those who addressed the full assembly of dele- 
 gates, was listened to with the greatest atten- 
 tion; and his words carried the greatest weight. 
 To the delegations from the smaller countries 
 he was the uncompromising supporter of the 
 ideals which he had declared, the advocate 
 of equal justice for all, the sturdy defender of 
 
 [69 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 their rights. In him they placed their confidence 
 and hope. 
 
 It is true that, as the terms of peace ap- 
 proached final settlement and as rumors of what 
 the terms were to be spread among the delegates 
 in spite of the secrecy which surrounded them, 
 there grew up in some minds, particularly of 
 those whose national aspirations were reported 
 to be unsatisfied, doubt as to the potential influ- 
 ence which the President had been able to exert 
 over his European colleagues. At first, however, 
 the faith of the delegates in him was unbounded, 
 and he was received by them with enthusiasm, 
 almost with veneration. But after months of 
 waiting in idleness and ignorance of the status of 
 their own national rights, it became noticeable 
 that with the representatives of the smaller na- 
 tions the President's popularity waned more and 
 more; and though he addressed them with the 
 same excellence of language and proclaimed the 
 same devotion to lofty principles, the reaction 
 upon his hearers was different from what it had 
 been in the earlier sessions, and there was an 
 evident disposition to accept his statements with 
 mental reservations, and not at their face value. 
 In fact, it may be said that the disappointed 
 
 [70 1 
 
Wilson 
 
 delegates no longer saw in him a Moses who was 
 to lead the nations to the Promised Land. 
 
 Doubtless this change of attitude, which out- 
 side the assembly hall of the Conference found 
 expression in whispered criticisms and occasion- 
 ally in open complaints, was partly due to the 
 President's failure to do all that the grumbling 
 delegates expected of him, expectations which no 
 mortal man could ever have fulfilled because 
 many of the claims founded on national ambi- 
 tions lapped and overlapped and could never be 
 reconciled so as to satisfy both parties. Thus 
 the President lost favor and prestige through his 
 inability to do the impossible, since with hardly 
 an exception the disappointed delegates blamed 
 him especially for their failure to obtain by the 
 terms of peace th; t which their nations desired. 
 It was one of those unavoidable misfortunes 
 which befall a man who, placed on a pedestal, is 
 idolized as the embodiment of justice by men 
 and by nations whose ideas as to what is just 
 vary, possibly unconsciously, according to their 
 conceptions of what will be of material benefit 
 to themselves. 
 
 The President, as we review his career as a 
 peace commissioner at Paris, stands forth as one 
 
 [71 ] 
 
Wilson 
 
 of the great dominating figures of the Conference, 
 who reached the zenith of his power over the 
 public mind of Europe, over the delegates and 
 over the negotiations at the first plenary session 
 of the Conference. The reasons for his decline in 
 power, a fact which can hardly be questioned, 
 may be one or more of many. First, the loss of 
 his superior position by intimate personal inter- 
 course with the European statesmen, which 
 could have been avoided if he had remained in 
 the United States or if he had declined to sit as 
 a delegate at Paris. Second, his evident lack of 
 experience as a negotiator and his failure to 
 systematize the work of the American Com- 
 mission and to formulate a programme. Third, 
 his seclusiveness and apparent determination to 
 conduct personally almost every phasfe of the 
 negotiations and to decide every -question alone 
 and independently. Fourth, his willingness to 
 arrange all settlements behind closed doors 
 with the three other heads of states present at 
 the Conference. Fifth, his unavoidable lack of 
 knowledge of the details of some of the simple 
 as well as the intricate problems to be solved. 
 Sixth, his insistence on the adoption of the cove- 
 nant of the League of Nations, as drafted, and 
 
 [72] 
 
Wilson 
 
 the overcoming of opposition by concessions to 
 national aspirations, the justice of which was at 
 least disputable. Seventh, his loss of the initia- 
 tive in the formulation of the provisions of the 
 treaties. Eighth, his apparent abandonment of 
 the smaller nations and his tacit denial of the 
 equality of nations by consenting to the creation 
 of an oligarchy of the Great Powers at the Con- 
 ference and in a modified form in the covenant. 
 And, ninth, the impression, which greatly in- 
 creased after his return from the United States 
 in March, that the American people were not a 
 unit in support of his aims as to a league of 
 nations, as those aims were disclosed by the 
 report made to the Peace Conference. 
 
 This list might be extended, but the reasons 
 stated are sufficient to explain much that' oc- 
 curred at Paris and also many of the features of 
 the treaty of peace with Germany which have 
 been the subject of debate', 1 ' censure, and de- 
 nunciation. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at, when the pro- 
 ceedings of the Conference are carefully con- 
 sidered, that the Old Tiger of France, with his 
 materialistic motives, his intense patriotism, and 
 his cynical view of transcendental intern ational- 
 
 [73] 
 
Wilson 
 
 ism, became, as he was, the dominant personality 
 in the Peace Conference and the most potent 
 member of the Council of Four. His shrewd and 
 practical methods of negotiation succeeded bet- 
 ter than the President's idealism. Yet the latter's 
 personal influence upon the delegates and his 
 success in incorporating in the treaty of peace the 
 covenant of the League of Nations, whatever 
 may be thought of its provisions, entitle him 
 to a place second only to M. Clemenceau among 
 the statesmen who directed affairs at Paris. 
 
 The conclusion should not be drawn from the 
 comments which have been made as to the faults 
 in the Treaty of Versailles that the treaty as a 
 whole should be condemned. As a definitive 
 treaty of peace, exclusive of the articles relating 
 to the League of Nations, negotiated in the waj^ 
 and at the time that it was, it would have been 
 difficult to have obtained a better one, consider- 
 ing the numerous conflicting interests and the 
 intemperate spirit of vengeance which then pre- 
 vailed. The treaty has defects, many defects; it 
 has bad provisions which should not have been 
 included; but the wonder is that, in the circum- 
 stances, they are not more general and more 
 glaring. 
 
 [74] 
 
Wilson 
 
 The chief objections raised against the treaty 
 in the United States have been to those articles 
 comprising the covenant of the League of Na- 
 tions and to those dealing with Shantung. The 
 other settlements, though some are admittedly 
 open to criticism, appear to be generally ac- 
 ceptable. 
 
 The interweaving of the League of Nations 
 into various provisions of the treaty, a scheme 
 which raises a question as to the scruples of the 
 author, has, in the opinion of many, tainted the 
 whole document with evil. This is manifestly 
 unjust and evidences a prejudice which results 
 from ignorance or, what is more deplorable, from 
 an unreasonable mental attitude. 
 
 The truth is, as some saw it in Paris and as 
 others have seen it since the negotiation and 
 signature of the treaty, there should have been 
 drafted a preliminary treaty of peace, avoiding 
 as far as possible all controversial and complex 
 questions and restoring a state of peace with little 
 delay. When the great need of the world had 
 been thus satisfied, the negotiation of the defini- 
 tive treaty and the plan for an organization of 
 the nations could have been taken up separately 
 with the care and deliberation to which they 
 
 [75] 
 
Wilson 
 
 were entitled and under conditions more favor- 
 able to the formulation of just and wise settle- 
 ments. 
 
 If this course had been adopted, President 
 Wilson would have been spared the vexations 
 and entanglements which surrounded him in 
 Paris and which were in large measure respon- 
 sible for his failure to hold the first place in the 
 Peace Conference. The drafting of a definitive 
 treaty, including a detailed covenant for the 
 League of Nations, seriously impaired his influ- 
 ence, his prestige, and his reputation. His 
 insistence upon the incorporation of the cove- 
 nant in the treaty lost him the world leader- 
 ship which was in his grasp. 
 
 [76] 
 
Ill 
 
 LLOYD GEORGE 
 
 In Mr. Lloyd George, who, in my judgment, 
 was third in prominence and influence among the 
 Big Four, one finds a very different type of man 
 from either of the two who have been considered. 
 While M. Clemenceau and Mr. Wilson entered 
 upon the negotiations with general objects to be 
 attained, the one national and material, the other 
 international and ideal, Mr. Lloyd George, if he 
 had a prepared programme, which I assume he 
 did from my acquaintance with his learned and 
 able advisers, did not follow it persistently. His 
 course was erratic, and he so often shifted his 
 ground that one felt that he had abandoned his 
 plan, or at least that he did not care to follow it 
 rigidly, preferring to depend on his own sagacity 
 to take advantage of a situation. As questions 
 arose, particularly those affected by changing 
 political and military conditions, he decided the 
 British attitude with characteristic quickness of 
 judgment and with a positiveness which im- 
 pressed one with the alertness rather than the 
 depth of his mind, and with the confidence which 
 
 [ 77 J 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 he felt in his own ability to grasp a subject and 
 decide it in the most expedient way, even though 
 he had not given it the study and thought which 
 other men felt were necessary for a wise decision. 
 Ready as Mr. Lloyd George was to declare a 
 position on any subject, he seemed to be equally 
 ready to change that position on obtaining fur- 
 ther information or on the advice of his expert 
 counselors. He did this with an avowal that he 
 had not previously been in possession of the 
 facts or else with an explanation intended to 
 show that his new attitude was not contradictory 
 of the former one. His explanations were always 
 clever and well presented, but they were not 
 always convincing. The British Premier thus 
 put aside that which had gone before and pro- 
 ceeded to handle the question under discussion 
 as if nothing had occurred to change the course 
 of the debate. Inconsistency never seemed to 
 disturb him or to cause him to hesitate. If he 
 took the trouble to explain a change of attitude, 
 it was out of no sense of obligation to justify 
 himself, but rather in deference to the opinion of 
 others and to prevent complaint. It apparently 
 was a trivial matter to him to change his mind 
 once or twice on a proposed settlement. 
 
 [78] 
 
Copyright by Harris <£• Ewing 
 
 ^~ ?^v 
 
 tv/ft 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 While Mr. Lloyd George was vague as to 
 general principles, which accounted largely for 
 the fluid state of his judgments, he had made 
 certain promises during the parliamentary elec- 
 tions of December, 1918, which he considered 
 binding upon him in the negotiations at Paris. 
 Of these Germany's payment of the costs of the 
 war and the public trial of the Kaiser by an inter- 
 national tribunal of justice attracted the most 
 attention. He was very insistent that the treaty 
 should make these promises good, although he 
 must have known that the first was impossible 
 and the second unwise as well as in defiance of 
 all legal precepts. In addition to his political 
 commitments, he was determined to obtain the 
 cession of the principal German colonies in 
 Africa and the German islands in the Pacific 
 south of the equator, control of Mesopotamia, a 
 protectorate over Egypt, a practical protectorate 
 over Persia in the event that Persian affairs came 
 before the Conference, the destruction of the 
 German naval power and the elimination of the 
 German merchant marine as a rival of Great 
 Britain in the carrying trade of the world. To 
 these well-defined national policies, which were 
 essentially selfish and material, the British Prime 
 
 [79 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 Minister clung tenaciously and was able to obtain 
 nearly all of them by skillful maneuvering. His 
 idea seemed to be that, if these objects were 
 attained, the decisions as to other matters were 
 of relatively little importance unless British in- 
 terests were directly affected, and that to study 
 them thoroughly was a needless expenditure of 
 time and energy. It was very evident to any one 
 who was familiar with the subjects that he 
 counted on his skill as a ready debater and on 
 the promptings of his experts to handle the ques- 
 tions satisfactorily when they were presented to 
 the Council of Four or Council of Ten. 
 
 Mr. Lloyd George had a pleasing- personality 
 and a hearty manner of address, which won him 
 friends even among those who were disposed to 
 charge him with vacillation. Of him it may be 
 said that he possessed personal magnetism. He 
 was short in stature, and rather thickset. His 
 complexion, which was ruddy and almost as clear 
 as a child's, was set off by an abundance of 
 silvery-white hair brushed back from his broad 
 forehead, and by a short white mustache which 
 curved over his lips. His eyes were keen and 
 twinkling, and when he smiled the wrinkles at 
 the corners were very marked. He would enter 
 
 [80 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 the council chamber at the Ministry of Foreign 
 Affairs, generally late, with a quick step, which 
 on account of its length made it a bit swaggering, 
 and greet his colleagues with a genial smile and 
 a bluff heartiness which were attractive. 
 
 On taking his seat in the great brocaded arm- 
 chair between Mr. Balfour and me, he would 
 usually lean back and ask his secretary in an 
 audible undertone if there were any notes on the 
 agenda. If any were handed to him, he would 
 put on his eyeglasses, examine the papers in a 
 hasty, offhand way, ask a few questions of the 
 secretary leaning over the back of his chair, and 
 then, putting the papers down on the table in 
 front of him, lean back with his weight on his 
 right arm and wait composedly the opening of 
 the session. His manner conveyed the impression 
 of a man who was satisfied that he had obtained 
 all the information that he needed to deal with 
 the several subjects to be discussed by the Coun- 
 cil. One could not but admire the complacency 
 which he showed as to his own ability. In the 
 conferences of the Council, Mr. Lloyd George 
 disclosed that his training was that of a parlia- 
 mentarian rather than that of a diplomat. He 
 did not speak in the calm, deliberate, and precise 
 
 181 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 manner in which President Wilson spoke, nor in 
 the analytical and closely reasoned style of 
 Signor Orlando when arguing a point. The 
 British statesman was very much of a rough-and- 
 tumble debater, quick to seize upon the weak 
 points of an opponent and to attack them vigor- 
 ously, sometimes with sarcasm and ridicule, and 
 often with flat denials of fact. His logic, if one 
 could so call it, was that of an opportunist, and 
 not at all sound or convincing. He was better in 
 attack than in defense, as the latter required 
 detailed knowledge of every phase of the ques- 
 tion, while in attacking he could choose his own 
 ground. He did not hesitate to interrupt a 
 speaker with a hasty question or comment, and 
 sometimes, if he seemed to be getting the worse 
 of an argument, he assumed a scoffing and even a 
 blustering manner which did not harmonize with 
 the sedateness of the Council of Ten, though it 
 did seem to fit into the portrait of the famous 
 Welsh politician. 
 
 While during a debate he was thus prone to 
 interfere with others, Mr. Lloyd George showed 
 displeasure or annoyance if he was interrupted 
 when speaking or if his statements were chal- 
 lenged. He had held his place in the British 
 
 [ 82 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 House of Commons by constant forensic battles. 
 He had used all the arts of a popular political 
 leader to maintain his position, and he had suc- 
 ceeded more by reason of his dynamic personality 
 and by fearlessly defying his enemies than by 
 the superiority of his learning or the strength of 
 his position. All people admire fearlessness and 
 instinctively follow a leader who takes the offen- 
 sive instead of standing on the defensive. They 
 seem to care far more for this trait than they 
 do for depth of knowledge or soundness of logic. 
 His appreciation of this quality of human nature 
 and his constant exploitation of it in his political 
 career made Lloyd George the Prime Minister 
 of Great Britain. Nothing daunted him. No 
 antagonist was too strongly entrenched to dis- 
 courage him. His quick wit, his ready tongue, 
 and his self-confidence made him what he was, 
 a great parliamentary leader. In some ways his 
 attainments as a politician were not dissimilar 
 to those of M. Clemenceau, though the latter 
 appeared to be more constant and — to use 
 a vulgar term — less shifty than his British 
 colleague. 
 
 In the Councils at Paris these qualities of mind 
 were by no means so effective as in the House of 
 
 [83 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 Commons or on the political platform. M. Cle- 
 menceau sagaciously cast them aside, but Mr. 
 Lloyd George could not. They were his heavy 
 artillery. He would have been lost without them. 
 In the negotiations conducted by the heads of 
 states and foreign ministers of the Five Great 
 Powers, accurate knowledge counted and intel- 
 lectual ability claimed first place. Without Mr. 
 Balfour's aid and without the constant advice 
 of his subordinates, Mr. Lloyd George would, I 
 fear, have been decidedly outclassed. As it was, 
 his truculence of manner when hard pressed in 
 debate, his attempts to ignore substantial argu- 
 ments which he was not prepared to answer, and 
 his frequent efforts to enhance the importance of 
 a fact by emphatic declaration were methods 
 that certainly did not carry conviction. 
 
 Yet nobody could come into intimate associa- 
 tion with Mr. Lloyd George without falling under 
 the spell of his personal charm. One might dis- 
 like his methods as those of a politician; one 
 might even feel a measure of contemptuous 
 surprise that he dared to discuss a question of 
 territory without knowing exactly where the 
 territory was; and there might be a feeling of 
 irritation that he changed his mind whenever it 
 
 [84 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 seemed to him expedient; but with it all one 
 liked the man; it was simply impossible not to 
 like him. His cheeriness, his vivacity, his never- 
 failing good nature, and his delightful humor 
 were assets which counted greatly in his favor. 
 
 There was one deplorable phase of the pro- 
 ceedings at Paris for which, I think, Mr. Lloyd 
 George was chiefly though by no means entirely 
 responsible. That was the secrecy which pre- 
 vailed as to the work of the Council of Ten and 
 later as to that of the Council of Four. Of course 
 a certain measure of secrecy as to individual 
 opinions was necessary while questions were un- 
 decided: otherwise there would have been no 
 frankness in the discussions; but to keep deci- 
 sions hidden even from the delegates of countries 
 whose national rights and interests were affected, 
 until the German treaty was in final form and 
 printed, was certainly contrary to the spirit of 
 open diplomacy and of common justice. Yet this 
 is what actually happened by order of the heads 
 of states. 
 
 The creation of the Council of Four was prob- 
 ably due to this desire to shut more tightly the 
 door upon the deliberations of the statesmen 
 who had the last word as to the terms of peace. 
 
 [85] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 Not that it was the sole reason, but that it was 
 the principal one seems to be the fact. That the 
 idea of splitting the Council of Ten into two 
 bodies originated with Mr. Lloyd George I 
 believe, but do not positively know. The at- 
 tempt to make President Wilson responsible for 
 it, and to assign as a reason certain attempted 
 actions by the Council of Ten during his brief 
 visit to the United States in February, is absurd, 
 as no action was attempted contrary to his 
 wishes while he was absent. As I have said, my 
 belief is that Mr. Lloyd George was the origi- 
 nator of the plan and probably the author of the 
 announced reason, which was that two councils 
 could cover more ground than a single council, a 
 reason which, though to an extent true, was not 
 the real one. 
 
 The British Premier throughout his sojourn 
 in France was in daily touch with the state of 
 affairs in Parliament as well as in Great Britain 
 i at large. Never for a moment did he take his 
 hand from the political pulse at home. Though 
 he had been victorious in the December elections, 
 his position was none the less precarious, de- 
 pendent as it was on a coalition of parties, which 
 is always more or less unstable. Constantly fac- 
 
 [86] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 ing the possibility of a crisis in his government, 
 Mr. Lloyd George's attitude on various ques- 
 tions arising in the negotiations was undoubtedly 
 affected if not determined by British popular 
 sentiment as it was disclosed from day to day 
 and by the advices which he received from his 
 political lieutenants in London. 
 
 While there is a natural disposition to criticize 
 him for his attempts to follow the fluctuations 
 of public opinion rather than to follow a rigid 
 policy, it should be remembered that the tenure 
 of office of a British cabinet is dependent on the 
 will of the House of Commons and that unless 
 a majority supports the Government they are 
 forced to resign. M. Clemenceau and Signor 
 Orlando, though less openly responsive to public 
 opinion than their British colleague and more 
 successful than he in disguising their motives, 
 were nevertheless constrained to consider the 
 wishes of their respective Chambers of Deputies. 
 President Wilson alone was untrammeled by do- 
 mestic considerations of that nature. He alone 
 was free to act without fear of being deprived of 
 his authority. Unless the three European states- 
 men watched vigilantly the trend of politi- 
 cal opinion in their respective countries, and 
 
 [87] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 trimmed their sails to meet the shifting winds of 
 that opinion, which in the months following the 
 armistice were tempestuous and uncertain, any 
 one of them was liable to be deprived of his 
 premiership and to be recalled from Paris. This 
 actually happened later when the Italian Min- 
 istry was defeated and Signor Orlando was 
 superseded in the Peace Conference by Signor 
 Tittoni as the head of the Italian delegation. 
 
 Not only did this watchfulness of public 
 thought at home affect the points of view of the 
 European leaders on many of the pending ques- 
 tions, but it induced a desire for secrecy as to the 
 progress of the negotiations. If the proceedings 
 were not published, there would not be a con- 
 stant heckling of the negotiators by their politi- 
 cal enemies. At least so they reasoned, although 
 they ran the risk of acting contrary to an in- 
 telligent public opinion and of deferring popular 
 judgment until it was too late to reverse their 
 action. 
 
 It is evident that so far as the Europeans were 
 concerned, there was a reason for their favoring 
 secret negotiations; but when they went to the 
 extent of depriving the delegates from the small 
 countries — who were vitally interested in the 
 
 [88] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 terms of peace — of all knowledge of the proceed- 
 ings of the Councils, they aroused bitter dissatis- 
 faction among those who felt that their national 
 interests and in some cases the sovereign rights 
 of their countries were at stake. It is true that 
 the various delegations were accorded hearings 
 before one or the other of the Councils and per- 
 mitted to plead their cases, but in the delibera- 
 tions at which the settlements were decided they 
 were not given an opportunity to participate. If 
 the interests of one of the countries unrepre- 
 sented on the Councils were in conflict with 
 the interests or the policies of one of the Five 
 Powers, what chance had the small nation to 
 obtain full justice? Then, too, the representa- 
 tives of Serbia, Rumania, Greece, and others 
 of the lesser states, which had been active 
 belligerents in the war, received practically the 
 same treatment as the unofficial delegations of 
 Armenians, Syrians, and Zionists who appeared 
 before the Council of Ten. Though the former 
 represented independent states and had seats 
 in the Conference, their national rights were de- 
 termined without their assent by the principal 
 delegates of the Great Powers, who assumed 
 supreme authority and whose determinations 
 
 [89] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 were kept secret so far as was possible until 
 the treaty was finally drafted. 
 
 There is no doubt that the method adopted 
 was essential to the practical control of the pro- 
 ceedings by the Great Powers, and that it also 
 expedited the negotiations, but in my opinion 
 the sacrifice of the principle of the equality of 
 nations and of the fundamental right of every 
 independent state, the little as well as the large, 
 the weak as well as the powerful, to have a voice 
 in the determination of its own destiny, was too 
 great a price to pay for the advantages gained. 
 The basic principle recognized in international 
 intercourse prior to the war was that before the 
 law all independent nations are equal. That 
 principle has been seriously impaired if not 
 entirely discredited by the proceedings at Paris, 
 and this revival of the old doctrine that even in 
 times of peace the strong shall rule has been so 
 woven into the structure of the League of Na- 
 tions that it will be a difficult task to resurrect 
 the doctrine of equality and restore it to its place 
 as the first maxim of international law, the funda- 
 mental principle of international relations. The 
 hope for such restoration lies in giving first place 
 to legal justice, applied through the medium of 
 
 [90] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 international courts, independent of any political 
 or diplomatic international body which may be 
 formed. 
 
 It cannot be doubted that President Wilson 
 in agreeing to, if he did not advocate, the primacy 
 of the Great Powers at Paris lost an advantage 
 which he could easily have held had he opposed 
 it. Supported as he was by most if not all of the 
 smaller states represented in the Conference, — • 
 at least at the first, since they looked upon him as 
 their firm friend, — he could have maintained his 
 superior position if he had held strictly to the 
 rule of equality and insisted that, if the terms of 
 peace were to be definitive, they should be con- 
 sidered and drafted by general commissions 
 whose reports should be discussed and passed 
 upon in full sessions of the Conference. Even 
 when that normal and customary way was 
 abandoned, he lost another opportunity. Sup- 
 ported as he was by the people of nearly every 
 country, he could have brought tremendous 
 pressure upon his three principal colleagues if he 
 had resisted the policy of extreme secrecy which 
 was followed. He failed to perceive, or else he 
 feared to seize, these chances, and therefore must 
 share the blame with his associates. 
 
 [91 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 I have stated that Mr. Lloyd George, in my 
 opinion, was principally responsible for the se- 
 crecy of the proceedings of the Councils. I know 
 that he showed the greatest perturbation over 
 publicity and most strenuously demanded that 
 the discussions and settlements should be held 
 strictly secret. Though the meetings of the 
 Council of Ten were considered confidential, 
 only an official communique being given out after 
 a meeting, there frequently appeared in the 
 Parisian press reports of the proceedings which 
 were no doubt embarrassing to the British Gov- 
 ernment, since they became the subject of in- 
 terpellation and discussion in Parliament. As 
 nearly all the cases of these unauthorized reports 
 seemed to be in a measure helpful to the French 
 Cabinet in the Chamber of Deputies, it was 
 presumed, not without reason, that the informa- 
 tion came from the official group who, independ- 
 ently of the Minister of Foreign Affairs, control 
 in large measure the acts of the Foreign Office in 
 Paris, and who were in constant touch with the 
 proceedings of the Peace Conference. 
 
 These published statements greatly annoyed 
 Mr. Lloyd George and caused him to use some 
 very plain and vigorous language about the way 
 
 [92 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 news leaked out. He implied rather broadly that 
 since the French Government maintained com- 
 plete control of the press through its censorship, 
 the publication of this news was for political 
 purposes, and asserted that he, for one, would 
 not stand it. M. Clemenceau listened to these 
 complaints with apparently unruffled temper and 
 replied that he was as desirous as his distin- 
 guished confrere to preserve the absolute secrecy 
 of the proceedings, that he deplored the fact that 
 anything had occurred which caused him annoy- 
 ance, and that he would take steps to prevent 
 further publicity, though he was sure that the 
 source of the information was not the French 
 officials, who were always discreet and honorable. 
 With M. Clemenceau's assurances Mr. Lloyd 
 George had to be satisfied, at least for the time, 
 but as the French journals, after a brief silence, 
 began again to print inside information con- 
 cerning the Council, he renewed his complaints. 
 The French Premier expressed deep concern and 
 repeated his assurances that he would do every- 
 thing that he could to stop the leak. At the same 
 time he pointed out that the London press was 
 publishing reports of the proceedings of the 
 Council which were very disturbing to him and 
 
 [ 93 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 his Government and invited the attacks of his 
 enemies in the Chamber of Deputies. Mr. Lloyd 
 George blustered about this insinuation that his 
 people were doing the very thing of which he 
 complained, and declared that this improper 
 publicity was the result of having so many per- 
 sons present at the sessions of the Council, and 
 that the only way to check it was to reduce the 
 number. In truth, M. Clemenceau and Mr. 
 Lloyd George were equally desirous for political 
 reasons to have certain matters made public, 
 but each of them wished to decide what those 
 matters should be. 
 
 The result of these conditions was the organ- 
 ization of the Council of the Heads of States. 
 There is no question but that the new method of 
 conducting business was in the main effective as 
 to secrecy. Only the most fragmentary informa- 
 tion came through the closed doors of the Presi- 
 dent's residence, where the Big Four sat in 
 conclave. Not only the public, but the delegates 
 to the Conference as well, remained in ignorance of 
 the proceedings. Though the general discontent 
 increased, and the mutterings — ■ particularly 
 of the representatives of the press assembled 
 in Paris — grew louder and more bitter against 
 
 [94 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 this policy of silence and mystery, Mr. Lloyd 
 George did not appear to be disturbed. On the 
 contrary, he was even more insistent that the 
 seal of secrecy should remain unbroken. 
 
 The climax of this dislike — or possibly I 
 should say, this fear — of publicity on the part of 
 the British statesman came at a meeting of the 
 Council of Ten held at the President's house 
 about the middle of April, which, according to 
 the notice, was summoned to consider the pub- 
 licity to be given to the terms of peace before 
 the treaty was delivered to the Germans, but 
 which was, in fact, summoned to devise means 
 to prevent the terms from becoming public. 
 The meeting was one of the most extraordinary 
 ever held in connection with a great international 
 congress, most extraordinary as to subject, dis- 
 cussion, and result. 
 
 I do not feel that I can give a detailed account 
 of what occurred at this meeting, but it may be 
 said that Mr. Lloyd George held the opinion — 
 an opinion which he freely expressed outside the 
 Council — that in order to keep secret the terms 
 of the treaty as long as possible the delegates of 
 the lesser co-belligerent states, who had been 
 excluded from all participation in the drafting of 
 
 [ 95 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 the document, ought not even to see the full text 
 before the Germans saw it, and that all delegates, 
 friends and foes alike, should simply be directed 
 to "sign here." This opinion — which was evi- 
 dently based on the assumed right of the Great 
 Powers to dictate to the Conference — was 'ap- 
 parently made with the idea that it would be 
 too late to propose changes in the treaty after 
 the terms had been imposed on the Germans, and 
 that the terms could not become the subject of 
 political attack or public criticism at home while 
 the Germans were considering them and formu- 
 lating objections to them. 
 
 The result of the meeting was a decree or order 
 by the Council of Four that a summary, and not 
 the text, of the treaty should be laid before the 
 delegates on the afternoon preceding the delivery 
 of the document to the German representatives, 
 and that no delegate should be permitted to de- 
 bate the terms unless it was in a perfunctory 
 manner, and in no event to attempt to amend 
 them. The conduct of the proceedings being 
 in the hands of M. Clemenceau, the programme 
 was certain to go through. Altogether this was 
 the most amazing and most indefensible exhibi- 
 tion of the despotism of the Five Powers that 
 
 [96 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 was given at the Conference. It was in utter dis- 
 regard of the legal rights of sovereignty in times 
 of peace, a reversion to physical might as the 
 measure of authority. The impression made 
 upon the delegates of the smaller nations can 
 be imagined. They were aghast at such treat- 
 ment, as well they might be, but without an influ- 
 ential leader what could they do? Some of them 
 said frankly that they expected nothing less of 
 M. Clemenceau and Mr. Lloyd George, but that 
 they had confidently believed that President 
 Wilson would not permit such unjust treatment, 
 that they were in despair at his desertion of them, 
 and that they were convinced that he was not the 
 strong man they had thought him, since he had 
 surrendered to those who favored the primacy of 
 the Five Great Powers. Mr. Wilson from that 
 time forward lost the commanding position 
 which he had held with the lesser nations. They 
 no longer had confidence in his courage and in- 
 fluence. 
 
 The fact is that the two leading European 
 statesmen were secretive through fear of the 
 effect of publicity on their political fortunes, and 
 the President was secretive by nature. As for 
 Signor Orlando, he belonged to that school of 
 
 [97 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 statesmanship of which a cardinal principle is 
 and always had been secretiveness as to dis- 
 cussions, agreements, and alliances, national and 
 international. His training and experience in 
 government made his approval certain. With 
 the Japanese, secretiveness is a racial charac- 
 teristic. 
 
 Yet, in my opinion, Mr. Lloyd George went 
 further than any of his colleagues would have 
 gone in advocating the suppression of informa- 
 tion, and he urged it with a frankness which 
 showed an utter lack of regard for, or possibly 
 lack of appreciation of, the attributes of sov- 
 ereignty. Had there been a trained legal mind 
 among the Big Four, other than that of Signor 
 Orlando, it might have been different. Unfor- 
 tunately, the three principal statesmen of that 
 powerful group were without such training, 
 although both Mr. Wilson and Mr. Lloyd 
 George had begun life as members of the legal 
 profession. They were unable to think in terms 
 of international law or to model their procedure 
 to conform to the custom and usage of nations. 
 The rights and liberties of independent states 
 were in peril. They needed a jealous guardian to 
 protect them from invasion. There was none. 
 
 [98] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 It was a serious defect in the constitution of the 
 Council, which was reflected in other phases of 
 its proceedings. 
 
 The insistence of the British Prime Minister 
 on secrecy at Paris was one of the manifestations 
 of that opportunism which has distinguished 
 his public career. Expediency controlled in a 
 marked degree his actions during the negotiations 
 as it had done his policies and acts as leader of the 
 Government in Parliament. He did not accept 
 a principle, or at least showed no disposition to 
 apply it, unless it appeared to lead to some prac- 
 tical advantage to his Government, and if he 
 found that his anticipation as to the result was 
 wrong, he unhesitatingly abandoned the prin- 
 ciple and assumed another. 
 
 When one reviews the unusual political career 
 of Mr. Lloyd George, and sees how successfully 
 he managed to hold his own with the conserva- 
 tive element of the British people and to placate 
 the radicals — even those of the more advanced 
 type — by meeting them part way or by appearing 
 to acquiesce in their extreme views, his shrewd- 
 ness and sagacity in the management of contend- 
 ing political factions arouse admiration for his 
 ability, though it does not follow that they 
 
 [99 ] 
 

 Lloyd George 
 
 excite the same emotion as to his devotion to 
 principle or to his constancy of purpose. 
 
 More than once, while the negotiations were 
 in progress at Paris, Mr. Lloyd George returned 
 to London and appeared in the House of Com- 
 mons for the purpose of leading the Government 
 in repelling an attack by the Opposition. On 
 those occasions he so adroitly explained the 
 Government's policies and so brilliantly pictured 
 the satisfactory progress of the work of the 
 Peace Conference that the attempted criticisms 
 which followed were feeble and futile. Aggres- 
 sive, sanguine, and cheerfully willing to face his 
 opponents, he successfully combated their criti- 
 cisms. Having routed his antagonists at home, 
 he returned to Paris unquestionably stronger in 
 his own eyes, as well as in the eyes of others, 
 because of his evident mastery of the parlia- 
 mentary situation. 
 
 While opinions may differ as to whether Mr. 
 Lloyd George is a great statesman, no one can 
 truthfully deny that he is a great politician who 
 shows a remarkable insight into human nature 
 and a skill in the manipulation of political forces 
 which have enabled him to hold his place in the 
 most difficult circumstances. Through the criti- 
 
 [ 100 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 cal periods of the war he maintained his ascend- 
 ancy by his ability to play off faction against 
 faction, and by his agility in keeping his equilib- 
 rium on a very flimsy structure built up of dis- 
 cordant and even of hostile elements. Often his 
 position was extremely precarious, but his wit 
 and readiness as a speaker always saved him 
 from defeat in the House of Commons. 
 
 While he brought this cleverness to his aid in 
 the negotiations at Paris, sudden changes of 
 position and the endeavor to divide his opponents 
 by encouraging first one and then another were 
 methods unsuited to the settlement of inter- 
 national differences. They did not work in the 
 same way that they did in the sphere of domes- 
 tic politics. His methods carried the impression, 
 possibly an erroneous one, that he was unreliable, 
 in fact, wabbly. This feeling decidedly impaired 
 his influence in the Councils, as it did among the 
 delegates in general. Though his keenness of 
 mind was fully appreciated, the way in which it 
 was used aroused doubt as to his sincerity, and 
 nothing can be more detrimental to a negotia- 
 tor than to be credited with insincerity. The 
 consequence was that every position taken and 
 every suggestion offered by the British leader was 
 
 [ 101 ] 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 suspected and a hidden purpose was frequently 
 presumed when doubtless there was none. 
 
 But Mr. Lloyd George, always looking at a 
 question from the point of view of expediency, 
 would have been seriously handicapped in the 
 council chamber had he not relied on the experi- 
 ence and knowledge of Mr. Balfour, Lord Milner, 
 and Sir Eyre Crowe, who foresaw whither the 
 expedient might lead him. He accepted the 
 judgment of others unless their judgment came 
 in direct conflict with his political programme 
 for the day, and even then he was willing to 
 modify his views to meet, at least partially, the 
 course which they advised. 
 
 Mr. Lloyd George possessed a wonderfully 
 alert mind which fairly bubbled over with 
 restless energy. He made decisions rapidly and 
 with little regard for details or fundamental 
 principles. If he fell into error through incom- 
 plete knowledge or wrong deductions, he picked 
 himself up with a laugh or a witticism and went 
 ahead as if nothing had happened. In debate 
 he was vigorous and often impetuous. If it were 
 shown that his argument was based on false 
 premises, he unblushingly changed his premises, 
 but not his argument. The audacity with which 
 
 [ 102 1 
 
Lloyd George 
 
 he ignored logic was a subject of frequent com- 
 ment. He, in my opinion, had the quickest mind 
 of the Big Four, but it seemed to lack stability. 
 He gave the impression of a man who through 
 force of circumstances had been compelled to 
 jump at conclusions instead of reaching them 
 through the surer but slower processes of reason. 
 By many he was credited with superficial knowl- 
 edge and careless judgment. This opinion was 
 a natural result of the way in which he pressed 
 forward, showing impatience that others were not 
 willing to render decisions on evidence which he 
 deemed entirely sufficient, but which his col- 
 leagues considered questionable. 
 
 Vivacious, good-tempered, and possessing a 
 strong sense of humor, Mr. Lloyd George was 
 socially an attractive person, while in debate his 
 cleverness in finding the weak spots in an op- 
 ponent's armor and his utter indifference to his 
 own errors made him a dangerous antagonist. 
 He attacked with vigor and he defended by 
 attacking. But this unusual man possessed none 
 of the arts of diplomacy. He was not by nature 
 a negotiator. His successes at Paris — and they 
 were not a few — were largely due to the ex- 
 cellent advice which was given him, and which 
 he wisely received. 
 
IV 
 
 ORLANDO 
 
 Signor Orlando possessed physical and mental 
 characteristics which have left pleasant memories 
 of intercourse with him. Short and rotund in 
 person, with thick white hair worn pompadour 
 and a white mustache partially covering his 
 rather full lips, he was not in personal appear- 
 ance typical of Italy. His shortness of stature, 
 which was about that of Mr. Lloyd George, was 
 emphasized by his usual custom of wearing a 
 close-fitting sack coat, which he generally kept 
 tightly buttoned. With a friendly eye and a 
 smile which dimpled his cheeks, one knew at a 
 glance that he was of a kindly nature and not 
 disposed to quarrel without a sufficient provoca- 
 tion. His clear complexion and unwrinkled face 
 indicated good health and a capacity to enjoy 
 life. 
 
 The mentality of Signor Orlando was moulded 
 on different lines from those of any other member 
 of the Council of the Heads of States. It had 
 been trained and developed in the field of juris- 
 prudence, and possessed the precision of thought 
 
 [ 104 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 and clearness of expression which are the attri- 
 butes of a mind accustomed to the exactness 
 of legal expressions. In some ways it was harder 
 to judge accurately the mental qualities of the 
 Italian statesman than those of his confreres 
 because his inability to speak or to understand 
 English debarred him in a measure from the 
 informal discussions of the Council, which were 
 generally conducted in that language out of con- 
 sideration for President Wilson and Mr. Lloyd 
 George. With the aid of Professor Man toux, how- 
 ever, he was able to participate more than might 
 have seemed possible in the circumstances. 
 
 It is fitting to digress for a moment and to say 
 a word of Professor Man toux, who wore a French 
 captain's uniform, and was inherited by the 
 Council of Ten from the Supreme War Council. 
 No interpreter could have performed his onerous 
 task with greater skill than he. Possessing an 
 unusual memory for thought and phrase, he did 
 not interpret sentence by sentence, but, while an 
 address or statement was being made, he listened 
 intently, occasionally jotting down a note with 
 the stub of a lead pencil. When the speaker had 
 finished, this remarkable linguist would translate 
 his remarks into English or into French as the 
 [ 105 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 case might be, without the least hesitation and 
 with a fluency and completeness which were 
 almost uncanny. Even if the speaker had 
 consumed ten, fifteen, or twenty minutes, the 
 address was accurately repeated in the other 
 language, while Professor Mantoux would em- 
 ploy inflection and emphasis with an oratorical 
 skill that added greatly to the perfectness of the 
 interpretation. No statement was too dry to 
 make him inattentive or too technical for his 
 vocabulary. Eloquence, careful reasoning, and 
 unusual style in expression were apparently 
 easily rendered into idiomatic English from the 
 French, or vice versa. He seemed almost to take 
 over the character of the individual whose words 
 he translated, and to reproduce his emotions 
 as well as his thoughts. His extraordinary at- 
 tainments were recognized by every one who 
 benefited by them, and his services commanded 
 general admiration and praise. 
 
 In addition to the information obtained 
 through the excellent interpretations of Pro- 
 fessor Mantoux, Signor Orlando had the aid of 
 Baron Sonnino, the Italian Minister of Foreign 
 Affairs, who spoke English without an accent 
 and understood it perfectly. The Baron, white- 
 
 [ 106 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 haired and white-mustached, with a florid 
 complexion and a genial smile, which was a bit 
 saturnine, belonged to the diplomats of the old 
 school, and was disposed to practice their 
 methods. Practical and deliberate in urging his 
 views, which were little affected by idealistic 
 considerations, he sought always to secure ma- 
 terial benefits for his country. It was clearly 
 national interest rather than abstract justice 
 which controlled his mind. In appearance at 
 least he impressed one as superior to his leader. 
 Possibly he was; but then, the same might have 
 been said of Mr. Balfour, who, in addition to 
 his dignity of appearance, was recognized to be 
 the intellectual superior of Mr. Lloyd George. 
 This latter superiority could not, however, be 
 attributed to Baron Sonnino. Signor Orlando 
 was intellectually as well equipped as he. 
 
 The Italian Premier possessed certain qualities 
 of mind which were of an exceptional order and 
 which marked him as a statesman rather than a 
 politician. In fact, his political instinct seemed 
 to be deficient, and events proved him by no 
 means skillful as a political leader. As an 
 opportunist he was a failure. But when we 
 analyze his statesmanlike qualities, which were 
 [ 107 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 clearly in'evidence at Paris, I think that it is not 
 going too far to say that no member of the Coun- 
 cil of Four, or of the Council of Ten for that 
 matter, was his superior in presenting a clear, 
 concise, and comprehensive argument during the 
 course of an extemporaneous debate. 
 
 Signor Orlando's mind seemed to work auto- 
 matically in analyzing, classifying, and arranging 
 the points in a controversy. Having stored away 
 each essential fact or reason in the proper com- 
 partment of his brain, he called it forth at just 
 the right place in his argument and impressed it 
 with just the right value. He did not exaggerate 
 the importance of a fact or ignore the strength of 
 an adverse argument. When he had finished 
 debating a question, one had to admit, whether 
 he agreed with him or not, that he had made as 
 logical a presentation of his side of the case as it 
 was possible to make, and that there was nothing 
 to add. As for the effectiveness of Signor Or- 
 lando's arguments, that is another matter, in 
 view of the preconceived ideas and natural bias 
 of his listeners, but no one heard him without 
 realizing his strength as an advocate. The fact 
 is, however, that the way to succeed in the Coun- 
 cil was to offer some form of compromise which 
 
 [ 108 J 
 
Orlando 
 
 would harmonize conflicting positions. When he 
 attempted this, he showed to less advantage. 
 
 I believe that the excellent character of the 
 arguments made by Signor Orlando was in a 
 measure due to his experience as a jurist and to 
 the analytical method of thinking which he had 
 acquired. His colleagues in the Council of Four 
 were not so well equipped as he for discussing a 
 legal question or preparing a legal formula. This 
 is an important attainment in a negotiator when 
 one considers that a treaty is essentially a law 
 and that its preparation requires technical legal 
 knowledge and experience. As was too often 
 manifest, the value of logic and evidence was not 
 so fully appreciated by M. Clemenceau, Presi- 
 dent Wilson, and Mr. Lloyd George as it was by 
 the learned Italian jurisconsult. With him no 
 time was wasted on side issues or in announcing 
 generalities which sounded well, but could not be 
 concretely applied. In speaking he did not grope 
 about for something to say. He knew where lay 
 the strength and where the weakness of his case. 
 He pressed the former with vigor and assurance, 
 and he defended the latter with skill. 
 
 Occasionally in the heat of debate, especially 
 if interrupted by M. Clemenceau with some 
 
 [ 109 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 caustic comment, as happened more than once, 
 Signor Orlando's Latin temper would flame. His 
 eyes would flash; his voice would rise as if sur- 
 charged "with emotion; his hands would add 
 emphasis to his words; and his sentences would 
 pour forth like a torrent. Yet, even under the 
 spur of indignation or anger, the logical trend of 
 his argument was never interrupted or divert- 
 ed. His intellect functioned normally, however 
 strongly he was stirred by his emotions. And the 
 Old Tiger, whose ferocity of manner was, I am 
 sure, often assumed from the mere love of bait- 
 ing an opponent, would lean back in his chair 
 with half -closed eyes and immobile countenance, 
 watching the effect of his words, doubtless hoping 
 that he had disconcerted the speaker. If he did 
 cherish that hope in the case of his Italian 
 colleague, he cherished it in vain. 
 
 Signor Orlando enjoyed a joke and relished a 
 good story, particularly if it was illustrative of a 
 matter under discussion or was concerning some 
 well-known character, living or dead. He was 
 always jovial and seemingly in a good humor. 
 When an afternoon session of the Council of Ten 
 was ended, and the attendants brought a large 
 tea-table into the chamber from an adjoining 
 
 [HO] 
 
Orlando 
 
 room, he always remained to gossip and enjoy 
 the society of the men who had been present. 
 But during the discussion of a question in the 
 Council, Signor Orlando never interlarded his 
 remarks with anecdotes and witty sayings, 
 evidently considering that to do so would weaken 
 his argument and would be out of harmony with 
 the dignity of so serious a business as that in 
 hand. 
 
 In my opinion the Italian statesman was 
 entirely right in not imitating the seeming 
 flippancy of some of his colleagues, who appeared 
 to think that an informal and jocular manner was 
 an actual aid in the settlement of a question 
 which might involve the sovereignty over an 
 extensive territory or even the life of a nation. 
 Under certain conditions a humorous remark, if 
 tactfully introduced, may avoid a quarrel or 
 prevent a regrettable incident in a discussion 
 which has reached a point where tempers are 
 aroused and near the explosive point; but the 
 constant interjection of witticisms, though they 
 may be received with smiles and laughter, de- 
 tracts materially from the influence of the one 
 who utters them. 
 
 My impression is — though it is only an im- 
 [ HI ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 pression — that Signor Orlando came to Paris 
 with the definite purpose of obtaining, so far as 
 the Adriatic was concerned, the territorial con- 
 cessions laid down in the Pact of London, and 
 that the inclusion of the city of Fiume in the 
 Italian claims was originally advanced for the 
 purpose of bargaining with the Jugo-Slavs, who 
 were putting forward excessive claims for por- 
 tions of the territory conceded to Italy by the 
 London Agreement. But the reason for the 
 inclusion of Fiume in the Italian demands is of 
 little importance compared with the reason for 
 the subsequent insistence with which the demand 
 was pressed. Introduced as something with 
 which to barter in the event that the Italian 
 claims along the Dalmatian coast were curtailed 
 in the interest of the Jugo-Slavs, an argument in 
 favor of annexation to Italy was built up on the 
 principle of self-determination, that phrase which 
 has aroused so many false hopes and caused so 
 much despair since it was coined, and which is a 
 continuing source of discontent and turmoil in 
 the world. He especially emphasized the prepon- 
 derance of Italians in the population of Fiume 
 because he was led to believe that the President 
 would support this principle. 
 
 [ 112 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 Signor Orlando, soon after his arrival in Paris, 
 found the situation such that he came to the 
 conclusion that if he remained firm in his claim 
 for the port he would succeed in obtaining it for 
 Italy. This course naturally appealed to him, 
 since success would strengthen his political posi- 
 tion at Rome, which was endangered by the 
 probability that the full grant under the Pact of 
 London could not be attained. Thus the claim 
 was converted from one put forward to surrender 
 in a compromise, if I am correct in my surmise, 
 to one which it was possible to secure. 
 
 Convinced of the substantial certainty that 
 the President would in the end consent to the 
 cession, and feeling assured that the British and 
 French would not object, a propaganda in favor 
 of Fiume for Italy was begun at Rome, so that 
 when the annexation actually took place the 
 Italian people would acclaim Signor Orlando and 
 his statesmanship, and he would reap the full 
 political benefit of the achievement. Possibly, 
 too, it was thought that a strong manifestation 
 of national feeling would make certain the Presi- 
 dent's favorable decision. 
 
 The trouble was that the policy adopted was 
 based on a false belief as to the President's 
 
 [ H3 1 
 
Orlando 
 
 ultimate agreement that the city should come 
 under Italian sovereignty. When Signor Orlando 
 and Baron Sonnino awoke to the fact that they 
 had been misled, and that the President was 
 adamant in refusing to admit Italy's claim to 
 Fiume in spite of the rule as to self-determina- 
 tion, they were in a sad predicament. They had 
 started a fire of sentiment among the Italian 
 people which had spread beyond their control. 
 They had no alternative but to continue to 
 struggle for Italian control over the little city, 
 hoping that they might through some compro- 
 mise succeed in obtaining what all Italy was 
 clamoring for, because failure meant the over- 
 throw of the Orlando Ministry. One can imagine 
 the feelings of the Italian delegation toward 
 those who had encouraged them to assume a 
 position from which there had been left no way 
 to retreat. 
 
 The negotiations had continued through con- 
 fidential channels and in the Council of Four 
 until the time approached when the Germans 
 were to receive the treaty of peace. As a last 
 resort Signor Orlando let it be understood that, 
 unless the Council conceded Italy's right to 
 Fiume, the Italian delegation had no other course 
 
 [ 114 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 than to withdraw from the Conference. It was, 
 I think, a threat made in desperation and was 
 never intended to be carried out. It, however, 
 had the opposite effect on Mr. Wilson from that 
 which was intended. It aroused his ire and 
 made him stubborn. He determined to meet it 
 in a way which was most unusual. 
 
 On the evening of April 23d the President 
 issued a public statement on Fiume and Italy's 
 unjustifiable claim to the city, which was in fact 
 if not in purpose an appeal to the Italian people 
 over the head of their Government. The state- 
 ment was temperate, well-balanced, and logically 
 sound, but, issued at a time when feeling in Italy 
 was at fever heat, it caused a tremendous 
 sensation. Doubtless President Wilson, remem- 
 bering the unparalleled enthusiasm of his recep- 
 tion in Italy when he visited that country in 
 January, believed that his popularity was suffi- 
 cient to change the tide of public sentiment and 
 that the Italian people would perceive the in- 
 justice of the claim to Fiume because he declared 
 that it was unjust. The storm of abuse and insult 
 with which the statement was received from one 
 end of Italy to the other must have opened the 
 President's eyes to the fact, which had not been 
 
 [115] 
 
Orlando 
 
 hidden from others, that his popularity with the 
 peoples of Europe was rapidly receding, and that 
 they were no longer willing to accept his declara- 
 tions as the utterances of the inspired leader 
 of international thought, the apostle of a new 
 gospel. 
 
 Signor Orlando was very angry at this attempt 
 to rouse Italian public opinion against his Fiurne 
 policy, for so he interpreted Mr. Wilson's state- 
 ment. He issued a counter-statement, and on 
 the 24th departed from Paris for Rome, as did 
 Baron Sonnino. However, the Italian statesmen, 
 after their anger had cooled, and after they had 
 had time to consider the possible consequences 
 upon Italian interests of their continued absence 
 from the Conference, swallowed their pride and 
 returned to Paris. Convinced that Italy was 
 solidly behind him, and that the President had 
 failed in his appeal and was no longer in favor 
 with the Italian people, Signor Orlando resumed 
 his seat in the Council, giving no evidence that 
 anything had happened to mar the cordial 
 relations which existed between him and his 
 associates. 
 
 This incident showed the volatile tempera- 
 ment of the Italian Premier more clearly than 
 
 [ H6 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 anything else that occurred at Paris. Possessed 
 of the emotional intensity of his race, the sudden 
 and extraordinary action of the President, which 
 he construed as a personal affront, made him 
 furious, as it might have done a man of a more 
 phlegmatic nature. On the impulse of the mo- 
 ment, he left Paris, intending undoubtedly not 
 to return. Then, as his rage subsided under the 
 soothing influence of popular approval, and as he 
 reviewed more calmly the situation, he decided 
 that it would be impolitic to remain away from 
 the council table where the terms of peace with 
 Austria were to be drafted or to be absent when 
 the treaty was delivered to the German pleni- 
 potentiaries. It is said that added pressure was 
 exerted on the Italians by a threat to abandon 
 entirely the terms of the Pact of London unless 
 they returned immediately to Paris. I have no 
 doubt, however, that Signor Orlando inwardly 
 burned with indignation at the President and at 
 those who had, during the early days of the 
 negotiation, encouraged the belief that the Presi- 
 dent would assent to the cession of Fiume. 
 
 All the clandestine interviews and intrigues 
 had come to naught; and when the Italian del- 
 egates returned to Paris, they were not resumed. 
 
 [ 117 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 Signor Orlando and Baron Sonnino were too sa- 
 gacious to pursue again a course which had ended 
 so disastrously. As an eminent Italian diplomat, 
 one of the Premier's close friends, said to me: 
 "We know now that we dealt from the first with 
 the wrong people. They held out false hopes. 
 They did not tell us the truth. We relied on their 
 advice, and now see where we are! We won't 
 make that mistake again." 
 
 However, the damage had been done and 
 could not be undone. The public mind in Italy 
 had been so inflamed that nothing but Italian 
 control of Fiume would satisfy the nation. With 
 that practically impossible, in view of the un- 
 compromising attitude of the President, the 
 overthrow of the Orlando Government was only 
 a question of time unless something unforeseen 
 occurred to affect the situation. But by neither 
 word nor manner did Signor Orlando show his 
 feelings. Even up to the time when the defeat 
 of his Government was certain to take place 
 within a few days, and it was substantially 
 settled that Signor Tittoni would succeed him 
 at Paris as the head of the Italian delegation, 
 the cheerfulness and good humor of the retiring 
 Premier never forsook him. He accepted his ap- 
 
 [118] 
 
Orlando 
 
 proaching political overthrow with a fine spirit. 
 In these trying circumstances he was the same 
 pleasant, smiling gentleman that he had been 
 during the early sessions of the Council of Ten. 
 
 Just how far Signor Orlando was influenced in 
 his policy as to Fiume by Baron Sonnino, I do 
 not know. There were many competent ob- 
 servers who were disposed to lay the responsi- 
 bility for it on the latter's shoulders, as he was 
 a past-master in arranging settlements through 
 secret agreements. No one in the Council of Ten 
 was so adept as he in negotiations of that sort. 
 Persuasive and plausible, with a manner that 
 impressed his listener with the sense of being 
 the specially favored recipient of important 
 information, Baron Sonnino was unquestionably 
 successful in winning to his support those who 
 were susceptible to this species of flattery, and 
 who had a generous opinion of their own 
 importance. Where the Baron failed was in his 
 overvaluation of the support which he won in 
 this way. Had that not been the case, the Italian 
 plan in regard to the Adriatic would have been 
 successful and the Orlando Government, of which 
 Baron Sonnino was so influential a member, 
 would have been stronger than ever at Rome. 
 
 [ H9 1 
 
Orlando 
 
 What has been said of Baron Sonnino is 
 not by way of criticism of him as a man, but of 
 the school of diplomacy to which he belonged. 
 The pity is that all the intrigues and secretive- 
 ness, from which the Peace Conference suffered 
 so grievously, did not end as the Fiume affair 
 ended. If the Conference had done nothing else 
 than discredit diplomacy of that sort, it would 
 have been well worth while. Unfortunately, 
 others who practiced similar methods were able 
 to form combinations and make bargains to the 
 mutual and material advantage of their coun- 
 tries. Baron Sonnino's reputation as a clever 
 diplomat and negotiator who was credited — I 
 think unjustly — with hiding his real objects did 
 not help him, while other statesmen, less known 
 in diplomacy and possibly less frank in purpose, 
 engaged in the same practices that he did with 
 impunity and with frequent success. 
 
 The fact is, when one who knows what went on 
 in Paris outside the recorded proceedings con- 
 siders the months during which the Conference 
 was in session, he cannot deny that there was a 
 lot of hypocrisy practiced, a lot of pretense about 
 doing things openly and stating things candidly 
 when secrecy and intrigue were only too evident. 
 
 [ 120 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 One might not like Baron Sonnino's policies and 
 might feel that they flouted the conscience of the 
 nations and were out of harmony with the spirit 
 of the times, but no one could charge him with 
 being a hypocrite. He was in fact far less blame- 
 worthy than some who criticized him. Whatever 
 may have been thought of the Italian Minister 
 of Foreign Affairs by these self-righteous negotia- 
 tors, he was a more reliable man than they, a 
 better man with whom to deal. He was without 
 question an able diplomat, possessing poise and 
 sagacity, while as a companion he was all that 
 could be desired. 
 
 Neither Signor Orlando nor Baron Sonnino 
 took as active a part in the debates on general 
 questions which came before the Council of Ten 
 as did the representatives of the United States, 
 France, and Great Britain. Signor Orlando was 
 always ready to give his opinion on such subjects 
 when asked, and he did it with the clearness of 
 statement and logical presentation of reasons 
 of which he was master. 'When, however, the 
 question was one which had to do with the 
 national interests of Italy, he appeared to be 
 eager to express his views, and seized the first 
 opportunity to address the Council. It was also 
 
 [ 121 1 
 
Orlando 
 
 observable that in any discussion which touched 
 his government or people even so remotely as 
 the establishment of a precedent or policy which 
 might be later invoked against them, Signor 
 Orlando spoke with greater earnestness and much 
 more emphatically than he did on other occa- 
 sions. 
 
 This was evidence of a fact, already mentioned, 
 that the Italian statesmen concentrated their 
 entire effort on the advancement of the material 
 welfare of their country. It is impossible to deny 
 that Italy, however favorably or sympathetically 
 her course may be viewed, entered the war on 
 conditions which in the event of victory by the 
 Allies ensured her future territorial and economic 
 expansion. She sought a good bargain, and Great 
 Britain and France, in view of the conditions 
 existing in April, 1915, were forced to accede to 
 her terms. That same dominant purpose was 
 apparent throughout the negotiations at Paris. 
 Having secured to a large extent the rewards 
 promised a month before Italy declared war 
 against Austria-Hungary, which were embodied 
 in the Pact of London, the Italian representatives 
 at the Peace Conference sought further advan- 
 tages by advancing new claims. Of course these 
 
 [ 122 J 
 
Orlando 
 
 claims were selfish and not based primarily on 
 international justice, but in that they did not 
 differ from the claims of other Allied Govern- 
 ments. The difference lay, as I see it, in the fact 
 that the Italians urged their claims frankly and 
 without subterfuge, while others, seeking to hide 
 their nationalistic purposes, demanded that their 
 claims should be recognized on the ground that 
 to do so would make for the future peace of the 
 world and for the welfare of the inhabitants 
 of the territories the possession of which they 
 coveted. 
 
 While Signor Orlando had taken part in secret 
 negotiations as to Fiume and had endeavored to 
 obtain his object by bringing personal influence 
 to bear on others, it always seemed to me that 
 the secretive method employed contradicted the 
 frankness and openness which he otherwise dis- 
 played. He was certainly not by nature disposed 
 to deceive as to his purpose. Possibly he, and 
 Baron Sonnino as well, was too frank, from the 
 point of view of expediency. In any event, ap- 
 parent frankness, seasoned by assertions of high 
 moral purpose and garnished with unctuous 
 precepts and platitudes, succeeded where real 
 frankness failed. To admit openly that one was 
 
 [ 123 1 
 
Orlando 
 
 impelled by selfish motives was an offense to 
 those who proclaimed their own altruism, what- 
 ever their true motives might have been. It was 
 not playing the game according to the rules. 
 The truth is there was at Paris too much lip 
 virtue and too little heart virtue in the settle- 
 ments that were reached. 
 
 The Italian aspirations conflicted more with 
 those of France than with those of any other of 
 the Great Powers. In the Balkans, and to an 
 extent in Asia Minor, they came into direct con- 
 flict in the endeavor of each country to extend 
 its sphere of commercial influence in those re- 
 gions. It was when these questions were being 
 considered that M. Clemenceau and Signor 
 Orlando crossed swords in debate. While I 
 think that The Tiger's domineering manner and 
 sarcastic comments had a subduing effect on the 
 Italian, he replied with vigor and defended his 
 position with skillful parry and counter-thrust, in 
 spite of the interruptions of the older statesman, 
 who was or pretended to be very much out of 
 temper. 
 
 As a rule the impression made by the debate 
 was that for logic and force of reasoning Signor 
 Orlando had the better of the argument. He 
 
 [ 124 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 seemed to know his case more thoroughly and to 
 present it more convincingly than did his French 
 adversary. In fact, if, the latter had not been 
 the great personality that he was, he would often 
 have been forced to acknowledge defeat. But he 
 never did. Clemenceau defeated was unthink- 
 able to Clemenceau, and that attitude had un- 
 questionably a potent influence on his associates. 
 As a consequence Signor Orlando did not triumph 
 as frequently as he otherwise might have done 
 in his word combats with the fierce old cham- 
 pion of France, who treated him — I believe 
 intentionally — with far less consideration than 
 he did Mr. Wilson and Mr. Lloyd George. 
 
 Though Signor Orlando possessed admirable 
 traits of character and exhibited a skill in debate 
 which none of his confreres excelled, he was 
 nevertheless the least influential of the Big Four 
 and had the least to do with formulating the 
 terms of peace with Germany. This was doubt- 
 less due in large measure to the relative military, 
 naval, and financial strength of the Great Powers 
 represented in the Council of Four. Comparison 
 by this standard — which, it is to be regretted, 
 was the principal standard in weighing influ- 
 ence at the Peace Conference — tended to place 
 
 [ 125 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 Italy in the background and to subordinate the 
 views of her statesmen. I know also that some 
 felt that the Italian Government had driven too 
 sharp a bargain with the Entente in 1915, and 
 was now demanding more than its pound of 
 flesh, in spite of the small part, which the more 
 critical in Europe asserted, Italy had taken in 
 the later months of the struggle. There seemed 
 to be a disposition to repudiate the Italian claims 
 or at least to reject many of them. It was with 
 evident reluctance that France and Great Britain 
 conceded their treaty obligations. Neither of 
 them vigorously supported Italy when her 
 claims were urged. The attitude seemed to be 
 that of tolerance for a nation which had not won 
 by arms a right to a voice in the decisions, but 
 was by agreement entitled to it. It was therefore 
 especially fortunate for the Italian people that 
 they had in Signor Orlando so well-trained a 
 statesman, so talented an advocate, and so keen 
 a logician to represent them at the Conference. 
 He could not be and was not ignored. Another 
 representative less able might have been. 
 
 A review of the foregoing estimate of the 
 personalities of the four statesmen composing 
 
 [ 12G ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 the Council of the Heads of States, in whose 
 hands, it may be said, rested the political and 
 economic future of the world, shows that they 
 each possessed qualities of mind which fitted 
 them to be leaders of men, but which did not 
 necessarily equip them to act as negotiators. I 
 think candor compels one to admit, however 
 much he may admire the superior attainments 
 of the Big Four, that it was a misfortune for 
 the nations that the actual formulation of the 
 treaty with Germany was assumed by them. 
 
 In the first place, the only one of them who 
 had the legal or diplomatic experience necessary 
 for such a task was Signor Orlando, the least 
 influential of the Council, and the one who was 
 handicapped by not knowing English, in which 
 language the proceedings were chiefly conducted. 
 Of the others, President Wilson thought like a 
 professor advocating a pet theory and expanded 
 his philosophic ideas in a series of epigrams, 
 which sounded well, but which were difficult of 
 practical application, if not of definition. Mr. 
 Lloyd George, who lacked the background which 
 only a thorough student of history could have, 
 was an opportunist, who jumped to conclusions 
 without going through the reasoning processes 
 
 [ 127 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 which are necessary for wise statesmanship. 
 Careless in thought, he was equally careless in 
 speech. Accuracy of expression, so essential in 
 the final settlement of an international question, 
 was not one of his attainments. M. Clemenceau 
 never bothered himself with the actual wording 
 of a decision. The general principle was all that 
 interested him. The technical phraseology he 
 left to the Secretariat General, directing them to 
 send the decisions of the Council of Ten to the 
 drafting committee. A more unsystematic and 
 loose way of conducting business of such mo- 
 ment can hardly be imagined. To term it in- 
 expert is a mild characterization. 
 
 To other delegates, appreciative from previous 
 experience of the importance of exact and definite 
 expression, this lax and haphazard procedure 
 caused grave concern, though it did not seem to 
 disturb any members of the Council of Four. 
 Fortunately, the drafting committee included 
 such trained international jurists as Dr. James 
 Brown Scott, for the United States; Mr. — now 
 Sir — Cecil J. B. Hurst, of the British Foreign 
 Office; and M. Henri Fromageot, of the French 
 Ministry of Foreign Affairs. To their legal 
 knowledge, carefulness, and industry are due the 
 
 [ 128 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 phraseology of the majority of the articles of 
 the treaty and their orderly arrangement. One 
 dreads to think what the document would have 
 looked like if it had not passed through their 
 experienced hands. 
 
 If I were asked to state the strongest motives 
 influencing the conduct of each member of the 
 Council of Four during the Peace Conference, I 
 would state them as follows: M. Clemenceau 
 — protection of France from future German 
 attack, indemnification for her war losses, and 
 the perpetuation of her international power in 
 the world ; President Wilson — the creation of a 
 league of nations to make permanent the terms 
 of peace, to prevent war, and to supervise inter- 
 national relations in the future; Mr. Lloyd 
 George — the satisfaction of British public opin- 
 ion, measured in terms of political success and 
 commercial advantage; and Signor Orlando — 
 the expansion of Italy's territorial sovereignty 
 and economic power. 
 
 Of these controlling motives that of President 
 Wilson was on a higher ethical plane than that 
 of any of his colleagues. He unquestionably 
 felt that a great moral duty rested on the victori- 
 ous nations to make great wars impossible for 
 
 [ 129 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 the future. He believed that this could be done 
 by organizing the peoples of the world into a 
 league of nations. It was an idea which appealed 
 to his intellectual conception that he was devoted 
 to the welfare of mankind, and to his firm convic- 
 tion that he was destined to be the leader of the 
 nations, the commanding figure in this feder- 
 ation of the world. The theory of the proposed 
 organization was an appealing one. There was 
 little that could be urged against the general 
 principle of union for the sake of peace. It was 
 in the application of the principle and in attempt- 
 ing to make the theory workable in practice that 
 the difficulty lay. The President should have 
 realized — possibly he did — that unless the 
 Great Powers subordinated their selfish and 
 materialistic interests to the altruistic purposes 
 which impelled him to concentrate his efforts 
 on the drafting and adoption of the covenant, 
 their support of the League would be merely the 
 expression of a moral sentiment, provided it did 
 not constitute a practical agency to protect them 
 in settlements which satisfied their selfish desires. 
 Consider and answer these questions, which 
 are significant as to the spirit which prevailed 
 among the Great Powers: Why did the French 
 
 [ 130 1 
 
Orlando 
 
 statesmen hesitate to accept the covenant until 
 an added guaranty against German aggression 
 had been substantially agreed upon with Presi- 
 dent Wilson and Mr. Lloyd George? Why did 
 Italy threaten to withdraw from the Conference 
 and not to become a member of the League until 
 a favorable settlement as to Fiume had been 
 reached, even though it had nothing to do with 
 the treaty with Germany? Why did the Japanese 
 let it be known that they would not join the 
 League unless the German rights in Shantung 
 were ceded to their empire? 
 
 The manifest answers to these questions show 
 that selfish motives were superior to moral 
 obligations with the European Powers and with 
 Japan. The attitude seems to have been: Give 
 us all that we demand and we will aid in building 
 a wall for the protection of that which we have 
 obtained. 
 
 These incidents, with others which might be 
 cited, are manifestations of the weak influence 
 that abstract justice and the desire for the com- 
 mon good exerted on the Great Powers, and 
 of the impracticability of relying unreservedly on 
 their support of joint action, through an inter- 
 national organization, which was in any way 
 
 [ 131 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 detrimental to their material interests. From the 
 theoretical standpoint of the moral philosopher, 
 good faith and a sense of justice are irresistible 
 forces in the relations between nations, but 
 practically — and we must look to the practical 
 in the world of the present — selfishness is, and I 
 fear will continue to be, the supreme impulse of 
 nations in their dealings with one another, until 
 mankind is morally regenerated. 
 
 If the treaty of peace with Germany 'is criti- 
 cally analyzed in order to determine the motives 
 which found expression in the settlements con- 
 tained in its hundreds of articles, I do not. think 
 the brief statement of these motives which I have 
 made will appear to be prejudiced or unjust. 
 From the treaty terms there is much that can be 
 learned of the psychology of the statesmen who 
 were most influential in formulating them. Such 
 a study, if it is made carefully and impartially, 
 will, I believe, supplement and confirm this re- 
 view of the characters, the aims, the successes 
 and the failures of the Big Four' of the Peace 
 Conference at Paris. In later years, when the 
 results of their labors find actual expression, 
 historians may render a different verdict as to 
 these men, but from the viewpoint of thepresent 
 
 [ 132 J 
 
Orlando 
 
 I can reach no other than that which it has been 
 my endeavor to state without favor and with 
 entire candor. 
 
 The negotiations at Paris may be described as 
 a conflict between altruism and selfishness, be- 
 tween the ideal and the material, between the 
 theoretical and the practical, between principle 
 and expediency; a conflict in which President 
 Wilson, representing the higher standards, was 
 outmaneuvered by the forces of self-interest 
 and opportunism. The consequence was a treaty 
 in which national rather than international 
 interests are emphasized, and through which are 
 scattered seeds of dissatisfaction and discord. 
 No one imbued with the longing for a peace 
 founded on justice can study the treaty of peace 
 with Germany without a keen sense of disap- 
 pointment as to certain of the terms of settle- 
 ment or without a feeling of apprehension as to 
 the future. The treaty restored a legal state of 
 peace among the nations ; in that was its virtue, 
 for it responded to the supreme longing and need 
 of the world. As for the League of Nations, 
 which is to be an instrument of performance as 
 well as the guardian of this great international 
 compact, it is charged with giving permanency 
 [ 133 ] 
 
Orlando 
 
 to settlements which, in view of the nature of 
 some of them, invite modification or annulment. 
 Unless these defects are remedied, unless the 
 principle of the equality of nations is recognized, 
 and unless legal justice is emphasized, the Peace 
 of Versailles will be in many of its provisions 
 temporary and not permanent. 
 
 I 134 ] 
 
IMPRESSIONS OF OTHER STATESMEN 
 at the Peace Conference 
 
• IMPRESSIONS 
 
 A man who has taken a prominent part in public 
 affairs is naturally subjected to critical observa- 
 tion by those who come in contact with him. 
 There exists a popular belief, gained from various 
 sources, as to his character and attainments, 
 which one is curious to test by personal ac- 
 quaintance. What is it that has given this man 
 a reputation for greatness, for shrewdness, for 
 wisdom? Wherein lie his powers of leadership? 
 Has he the traits and qualities with which he is 
 credited? Does he possess weaknesses, of which 
 the man in the street knows nothing? Is the 
 popular judgment concerning him accurate? 
 What is his real personality? 
 
 It is with such questions that one approaches a 
 leader in the world of thought or action. Almost 
 invariably on first acquaintance an impression 
 is formed of the man, which may be strengthened 
 or weakened by subsequent intercourse or by 
 personally acquired knowledge of his purposes, 
 his motives, his mentality, and his mode of 
 action. Such impressions are of value, because 
 unconsciously they are critical unless personal 
 
 [ 137 1 
 
Impressions 
 
 likes and dislikes and the sentimentality of the 
 observer are permitted to control his judgment. 
 Impressions, therefore, seem to be worth record- 
 ing, since they will confirm, modify, or deny the 
 popular estimate of a man by one who at least 
 has had the opportunity of personal contact, 
 through which the little things which enter into 
 character are frequently disclosed, those little 
 tilings which the general public cannot know 
 and so miss an important factor in the valuation 
 of a man's qualities of mind. 
 
 And yet it ought to be remembered that 
 records of this sort are records of impressions 
 rather than of reasoned opinions. They are not 
 based on intimate association with the subject or 
 on long and careful observation. They are not 
 convictions gained by comparison of known facts 
 and personal experiences. They spring from the 
 brain without going through the slow process of 
 analysis and deduction. Personal sentiment, to 
 an extent, is mingled with observation and knowl- 
 edge to produce an impression, and the latter 
 is as fallible as sentiment always is when it forms 
 the basis of opinion. In a sense, therefore, an 
 impression is a psychological phenomenon rather 
 than the product of the reason. It is a "snap- 
 
 [ 138 ] 
 
Impressions 
 
 shot" of a man rather than a "time-exposure" 
 of him. It is an outline lacking the detail of a 
 finished portrait. 
 
 I am not sure how far an impression is affected 
 by preconceived ideas of a man gathered from 
 his record of achievement and his popular reputa- 
 tion for ability, though it is undoubtedly affected 
 by them. Probably the influence varies in each 
 case. But I think that it may be assumed that, if 
 the impression conforms to a previous conception 
 of character, the impression becomes almost a 
 conviction; while, if it differs in marked degree 
 from what one has been led to believe concerning 
 a man's character, the effect is to deepen the 
 personal satisfaction or disappointment, as the 
 case may be, and to cause a feeling that the im- 
 pression approaches nearer the truth than the 
 evidence contradicting it, although the nature of 
 the evidence is an important factor in determin- 
 ing its rejection. 
 
 This tendency to rely more upon an impres- 
 sion gained from personal contact, however 
 slight, than upon popular opinion and knowledge 
 of the previous career and accomplishments of a 
 man, is normal. It may not be the soundest 
 basis for accurately estimating personality, but 
 \ 139 1 
 
Impressions 
 
 it is very human and much more satisfying than 
 the careful weighing of facts which are generally 
 known. Reputations, in any event, are based not 
 so much upon what men think and do, as upon 
 what the world believes that they think and do; 
 and, since a public estimate of a man is founded 
 on belief, it is more easily overthrown by a per- 
 sonal impression than if it rested on proven facts. 
 In many cases the personality of a man, to whom 
 public opinion imputes greatness, assumes heroic 
 proportions as the myth is increasingly accepted, 
 so that a first impression, which does not con- 
 form to the public belief, is a distinct shock 
 and disposes the observer to reject all the evi- 
 dences of greatness when, in fact, only certain 
 ones are contradicted. This is a danger which 
 should be recognized and guarded against in 
 valuing the recorded impressions of men. It 
 would be folly to place them on the same plane 
 as estimates of character founded on an analysis 
 of established facts. They may be contributions 
 to the general knowledge, but their worth is 
 frequently affected by circumstance and the 
 temper of the observer. 
 
 With these comments concerning the nature 
 and value of personal impressions, it is. my pur- 
 
 [ 140 1 
 
Impressions 
 
 pose to state briefly how certain men, who repre- 
 sented their nations at the Peace Conference at 
 Paris, impressed me, leaving to the reader the task 
 of determining the conformity or disagreement of 
 my impressions with the common estimate of 
 the characters of these men, whose careers and 
 public services have made them conspicuous 
 figures in the history of the period in which we 
 live. 
 
 [ 141 
 
VENIZELOS 
 
 No man who attended the Peace Conference 
 aroused more general interest because of the 
 part that he had played in the war or won 
 more friends because of his personality than did 
 Eleftherios Venizelos, the Greek Premier and the 
 actual ruler of the Greek nation. I found that 
 nearly every one was anxious to meet this leader 
 whose personal influence had been persistently 
 exerted until it had turned the scales in Greece 
 against the Germans and in favor of the Allies. 
 There was a natural curiosity to see a man who 
 had been able to accomplish so much in spite of 
 the difficulties that he had to overcome. Success, 
 such as his had been in the field of international 
 politics, confers a distinction which even the more 
 cynical cannot ignore. 
 
 The career of M. Venizelos from his majority 
 to his fifty -fifth year, in which he was when 
 he attended the Peace Conference, had been a 
 stormy one. He had been for a third of a century 
 engaged in one rebellion after another against 
 the Ottoman Empire which had possessed su- 
 
 [ 142 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 zerain powers over his native island of Crete. 
 He had more than once retired to the mountains 
 and from their fastnesses defied the imperial 
 authorities. He had shown a boldness in urging 
 his demands and an inflexible spirit in the face 
 of disappointments which made him preeminent 
 as a patriot and as a revolutionist. Revolution 
 with him was a creed as well as a profession. All 
 his energies and talents had been devoted to 
 winning the political freedom of his countrymen 
 and the unification of the Greek people. 
 
 With the beginning of the World War his 
 sympathies were enlisted on the side of the 
 Allies. Whether this was due to far-seeing 
 statesmanship or to the fact that the Ottoman 
 Empire, against which he had been so long in 
 conflict, was allied to the Central Powers, I do 
 not know, but I believe that his inveterate hatred 
 of the Turk was the chief influence which induced 
 him to become openly active in the endeavor to 
 persuade his country to enter the war on the side 
 of the Allies. If they were defeated, his hope of a 
 Greater Greece would vanish. His success in this 
 endeavor, which he obtained only by revolt 
 against his own Government, gained for him 
 personally the favor of the statesmen of the 
 
 [ 143 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 Allied Powers, so that he was able to count with 
 substantial certainty on their support of his aims 
 at the Peace Conference and to have an in- 
 fluential voice in the inner councils at Paris. 
 The views of M. Venizelos were, I believe, given 
 greater weight by the Big Four than those 
 of any other single delegate at Paris, while the 
 confidence which he inspired made less difficult 
 his task of obtaining the terms which he desired 
 to have inserted in the treaties with Turkey and 
 with Bulgaria. 
 
 In spite of the vicissitudes and hardships 
 which M. Venizelos had endured during his 
 turbulent public life, he did not look the part 
 of a revolutionary leader. His appearance was, 
 on the contrary, that of a sensitive student. He 
 might have been a professor in some great 
 European university spending his days in inter- 
 preting the unearthed treasures of Crete's pre- 
 historic civilization or in poring over faded 
 manuscripts containing the Hellenic philosophies 
 of ancient days. Of medium height and with 
 little superfluous flesh, with hair and beard white 
 and thin suggesting premature old age, M. Veni- 
 zelos was not distinguished in form, feature, or 
 bearing. His complexion was ruddy, his eyes 
 
 [ 144 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 bright and clear, and his mouth gentle with 
 generous mobile lips. He stooped in walking and 
 his attitude in standing was shrinking, almost 
 apologetic. One could hardly avoid the feeling 
 that here was a man too modest, if not too timid, 
 to be a great intellectual force in world affairs, 
 too simple of soul to mingle in the jealousies and 
 intrigues of European politics, and too idealistic 
 in thought to pit his mind against the material- 
 ism and cleverness of the trained diplomats and 
 political leaders assembled at Paris to draw a 
 new map of Europe. 
 
 This mildness of appearance and manner was 
 further enhanced by M. Venizelos's smile and 
 voice. When he smiled, his whole face lighted up 
 with benevolence and friendliness. His smile 
 was his great charm, a charm that was empha- 
 sized by the soft and gentle tones of his voice. 
 Everything about him seemed to diffuse good- 
 ness. He appeared to be living in an atmosphere 
 of virtuous thought and kindly purpose. Imag- 
 ination could easily picture him as patient and 
 enduring, as the unresisting martyr of a great 
 cause, but not as indignant and fiery, not as the 
 intrepid leader of insurgent bands. His whole 
 personality in fact contradicted his record. 
 [ 145 1 
 
Venizelos 
 
 Though these pronounced characteristics in- 
 spired good-will and invited sympathy and sup- 
 port, one could not forget what his life had 
 been. The general impression created by his 
 personality undoubtedly was that here was a 
 man to be trusted implicitly, a man whose sim- 
 plicity of mind and nobility of purpose would not 
 permit him to resort to intrigue. To one, how- 
 ever, familiar with the shrewdness shown by 
 M. Venizelos as Premier of Greece during the 
 Balkan Wars and later as the head of a revo- 
 lutionary government during the World War, 
 there was the feeling that beneath his apparent 
 innocence of craftiness existed a keen perception 
 of strategic advantages and a readiness to seize 
 political opportunities, which were not entirely 
 compatible with the thoughts aroused by per- 
 sonal contact with him. 
 
 It seemed to me during those days at Paris 
 that it was almost heretical to have this feel- 
 ing of uncertainty as to the real character of 
 M. Venizelos in view of the universal esteem and 
 confidence in which he was held. The truth is 
 that I tried to reason myself out of it, for it 
 seemed to be inconceivable that others could be 
 mistaken in their estimate of his qualities. The 
 
 [ 146 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 impression, nevertheless, persisted. His appear- 
 ance and manner seemed to deny the facts of 
 his career, while the knowledge of the facts 
 would not be denied in forming an impression 
 of the man. In a social way intercourse with him 
 was a pleasure, but, when it came to discussing 
 with him questions affecting Greece and to con- 
 sidering the statements on which he based his 
 arguments, there was a suspicion, to say the 
 least, of the plausible and mild-mannered Greek 
 statesman which remained in spite of his personal 
 attraction and the apparent genuineness of his 
 altruism. 
 
 It is very obvious, from an examination of the 
 terms of the Treaty of Neuilly and the Treaty 
 of Sevres, that M. Venizelos was successful in 
 winning, not only the confidence, but also the 
 active cooperation of the negotiators who repre- 
 sented the Allied Governments in the formula- 
 tion of those documents. The settlements were 
 wholly favorable to the Venizelos policy of 
 " Greek unity" and to the desires of the Greek 
 expansionists, favorable to the point of extrava- 
 gance. It is not my purpose to discuss the exten- 
 sive territorial acquisitions obtained by Greece 
 under the treaties except to point out that in 
 [ 147 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 much of the territory the Greek populations were 
 in the minority, particularly in Eastern Thrace 
 and Northern Macedonia, and that there were 
 no compensating economic or geographic reasons 
 for the settlements. During the general dis- 
 cussion of the Turkish and Bulgarian peace 
 terms, in which the American Commissioners at 
 Paris took part, though the United States had 
 not been at war with either country, the Ameri- 
 can position was frankly adverse to the Greek 
 claims, not because of any unfriendliness for 
 Greece or of friendliness for her enemies, but 
 because the cession of areas inhabited by large 
 hostile populations creates conditions which 
 threaten the future peace of the world. That 
 position was sound, as time will demonstrate. 
 
 Except for the personal influence of M. 
 Venizelos, I am convinced that the extension of 
 Greek sovereignty would not have been so great 
 as it was under the treaties. What he asked was 
 granted because he asked it. His personality and 
 the reliance placed on his judgment dominated 
 the negotiations and were sufficient to overcome 
 the practical arguments urged against compli- 
 ance with his wishes. The consequence was the 
 creation of a new and greater Greece embracing 
 
 [ 148 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 within its territory the shores and islands of the 
 iEgean Sea as well as Eastern Thrace, a Greece 
 which, by uniting the Greek cities and settle- 
 ments on the islands and shores of the iEgean, 
 made of it a Greek sea, but a Greece which, by 
 this extension of territorial sovereignty to sepa- 
 rated coasts, became a country impossible of 
 military defense and unstable politically on ac- 
 count of ethnic animosities and of lack of 
 economic interdependence. 
 
 It is possible that my impression of M. Ven- 
 izelos would have changed and been more in 
 harmony with the common opinion of him, had it 
 not been for this apparent appetite for territory. 
 I found it hard to believe that a man of his 
 experience in public affairs, and especially one 
 who had been an active participant in the Balkan 
 quarrels where nationality has always played a 
 most conspicuous part, could be convinced in his 
 own mind that it would make for the future 
 peace and prosperity of Greece to expand her 
 boundaries to so great an extent, since it was 
 sure to arouse the bitter enmity of the Bulgars 
 and Turks and invite them to war against their 
 conquerors at the first favorable opportunity, 
 while the defensive strength of Greece would be 
 
 [ 149 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 materially weakened, unless it became a naval 
 power, which appeared to be substantially im- 
 possible. It seemed to be casting fresh fuel into 
 the Balkan furnace where the fires of war are 
 always smouldering beneath the ashes of past 
 conflicts. 
 
 What was the reason that M. Venizelos, seem- 
 ingly a sagacious and wise statesman who was 
 keenly alive to the dangers of perpetuating the 
 hatreds and jealousies of ambitious nationalities, 
 adopted this policy of over-expansion of Greek 
 territory, which even to the superficial student 
 of world politics appeared to threaten the fu- 
 ture peace of Southeastern Europe and the 
 sovereignty of Greece? I do not know. It is a 
 question which offers a field for speculation as 
 to the motives and intellectual attainments of 
 M. Venizelos upon which one may well hesitate 
 to enter. 
 
 Apostle of " the unification of Greece " as he 
 had always been, and an active agent in throwing 
 off the yoke of alien authority from his compa- 
 triots of the island of Crete, he may have been 
 obsessed with the idea that Greeks everywhere 
 should be joined to the mother country by 
 uniting under Greek sovereignty the territories 
 
 [ 150 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 where they dwell even though they are a minority 
 of the population. The memories of Macedon 
 and Byzantium may have inspired the hope of 
 a new Greek Empire clothed with power and 
 destined to revive the ancient glories of the 
 Greek race. 
 
 „ It may have been that he had made promises 
 and announced policies of an all-inclusive Greek 
 State which he could not revoke or modify with- 
 out losing prestige and political power at home, 
 and that to retain these he was willing to risk the 
 consequences of a course, the wisdom of which 
 was contradicted by the logic of recent events in 
 the history of the Balkans. 
 
 I am loath to accept this latter reason because 
 it is open to the interpretation that M. Venizelos 
 was willing to adopt an unwise policy in order to 
 perpetuate his political control by satisfying the 
 ambitions of the people of " Old Greece" and by 
 gaining the support of the Greek inhabitants of 
 the annexed territories. On the other hand, 
 political promises made under the stress of im- 
 pelling circumstance frequently bind men to a 
 course of action which they would under other 
 conditions prefer to avoid, but which they feel 
 in honor bound to continue. It is one of the evils 
 
 [ 151 1 
 
Venizelos 
 
 of opportunism which an honorable man finds 
 hard to avoid. 
 
 If, however, the motive for the Greek Pre- 
 mier's urgent appeal at Paris for the union to 
 Greece proper of the Greek-inhabited areas about 
 the iEgean Sea and in Macedonia was his con- 
 viction that unification was for the welfare of his 
 nation, the conclusion is that he was less wise and 
 more visionary than he was reputed to be. 
 
 In fact, when one analyzes the record of events, 
 there seems to be only one of two conclusions, 
 either M. Venizelos was an unwise statesman or 
 he was a politician who endeavored to preserve 
 his political life by responding to the impulses of 
 the national pride of his countrymen and of the 
 racial affinity of those of Greek blood. In either 
 case the popular estimate of his character is 
 impaired. 
 
 The part played by M. Venizelos in bringing 
 Greece into the war was made possible by the 
 presence of Allied forces in the Saloniki region. 
 The Greek Government had prior to that time 
 maintained neutrality in the war, and even went 
 so far in avoiding conflict as to permit Bulgarian 
 occupation of Greek territory without resistance. 
 To what extent the influence of King Constantine 
 
 [ 152 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 and his German queen induced this policy is of 
 little importance, though there can be no doubt 
 that the Allies were disposed to credit it with 
 chief importance. Outside of this influence, to 
 which the pusillanimous surrender of territory 
 gave color, the arguments in favor of a policy 
 of neutrality were strong and convincing. Serbia, 
 in spite of the unsurpassed valor and sacrifices of 
 her people, had been occupied by the conquering 
 armies of Bulgaria and Austria-Hungary. The 
 Serbian nation had endured untold agonies at the 
 hands of the invaders. The Allied Governments, 
 though vigorously demanding that the Greeks 
 aid the Serbs in the unequal struggle, would not 
 agree to send troops or munitions to Greece, 
 although that country was insufficiently manned 
 and equipped to conduct a war of magnitude. In 
 these circumstances King Constantine and his 
 advisers declined to depart from their neutral 
 attitude on the ground that Greece was not 
 strong enough without foreign aid to resist the 
 armies of the Central Alliance, and that to make 
 war unaided and without adequate military 
 preparations would mean that their country 
 would suffer the fate of Serbia and the Greek 
 people would undergo the horrors of an invasion 
 
 I 153 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 by an utterly ruthless foe. It would seem that in 
 the circumstances, even if the King had not been 
 a brother-in-law of the German Emperor, the 
 policy adopted was in the best interests of the 
 Greek nation; and apparently the majority of 
 the people favored this policy of neutrality. 
 
 The Allies were deeply, though I think un- 
 reasonably, incensed at this attitude of the Royal 
 Government and sought opportunity to force 
 Greece to take up arms against the Central 
 Powers. Finding that M. Venizelos and his 
 adherents, who were deeply interested in the 
 Greeks outside of " Old Greece," were in favor of 
 the country abandoning neutrality and taking 
 up arms against the Central Powers, the Allied 
 Governments finally sent forces to Saloniki and 
 practically took possession of the port and 
 neighboring territory in conjunction with the 
 Greeks who favored uniting with them in the 
 war. This action on the part of the Allies resulted 
 in the establishment, under the leadership of M. 
 Venizelos, of an independent Provisional Govern- 
 ment for the Saloniki region, which increased its 
 territorial control with the northward and east- 
 ward advance of the Allied lines. The successes 
 of the Allies on the various battle fronts and the 
 [ 154 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 arrival of reinforcements in Greece seemed to 
 prove the wisdom of the Venizelos policy of 
 revolution, which was confirmed by his final 
 return to political power at Athens, and the 
 departure of the royal family from Greece. 
 
 As far as one is able to judge from the progress 
 of events and from the subsequent restoration 
 of Constantine to the throne, the people of " Old 
 Greece," who had witnessed with apprehension 
 the terrible sufferings of the Serbian nation, were 
 never favorable to their country's abandoning its 
 neutrality and becoming a participant in the war. 
 The majority seemed to be opposed to the 
 Venizelos party which held its power by grace 
 of the Allied Governments rather than by will 
 of the Greek nation. However, the defeat of the 
 Bulgars, Turks, and Austrians was so complete 
 that the Venizelos policy was vindicated and his 
 leadership was again accepted by the nation — 
 at least it was assumed to be accepted — and he 
 came to the Paris Conference as the recognized 
 master of the situation. 
 
 While the Cretan statesman, thus in control 
 of the policies of his country through the defeat 
 of the Central Powers, entered upon his duties as 
 a negotiator holding the confidence and friend- 
 
 [ 155 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 ship of the Allies because of his devotion to their 
 cause under doubtful, if not adverse, conditions, 
 he could not have been blind to the fact that 
 good fortune rather than popular favor had been 
 the means of his success, and that there smoul- 
 dered a fire of resentment in " Old Greece " 
 because, to attain his ends, he had depended on 
 foreign troops rather than on the will of the 
 Greek people. To take a conspicuous place in the 
 deliberations at Paris and to employ the good- 
 will of the Allies for the extension of the terri- 
 torial possessions of Greece must have seemed to 
 him a wise course to pursue, as there was reason 
 to believe that attainment of his object would 
 satisfy the national aspirations and win the favor 
 of many who had opposed the abandonment of 
 neutrality and who had resented his revolu- 
 tionary act in forcing King Constantine to 
 abandon his throne. 
 
 The knowledge of M. Venizelos's career doubt- 
 less affected the impression that he made upon 
 me, although that impression was decidedly at 
 variance with the sort of man whom I had ex- 
 pected to meet. In spite of the fact that he had 
 been in repeated revolts against constituted 
 authority and had lived as an outlaw in the 
 
 [ 150 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 mountains of Crete, he was, as I have stated, in 
 appearance, in manner, and seemingly in tem- 
 perament, the opposite of a typical revolutionist, 
 especially of a Greek revolutionist whom popular 
 imagination pictures as a swarthy, passionate 
 brigand bristling with weapons. To accept this 
 mild-mannered, soft-voiced gentleman, whose 
 gentle eyes looked through his gold-rimmed 
 spectacles with a most benignant expression 
 and whose lips curved in the kindliest of smiles, 
 as the stern, inflexible revolutionist, under whose 
 leadership Crete had cast off Moslem rule and 
 the devotees of " New Greece " had arisen 
 against the Government of Athens, seemed to 
 deny the evidence of one's own senses. Thus 
 facts came into direct conflict with the impres- 
 sion which his personality made upon one who 
 had actual intercourse with him and affected 
 the impression in a peculiar way. 
 
 The effect was to cause one to feel that the true 
 Venizelos was hidden; and that his suavity, his 
 modesty, his soft voice and gentleness were not 
 real. The unavoidable impression was that 
 beneath all this apparent simplicity and frank- 
 ness there was a shrewd and clever politician, 
 who, watching from the ambush of outward 
 
 [ 157 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 appearance the progress of the negotiations, was 
 prepared to take advantage of every opportunity 
 to serve the cause of " Greater Greece," of 
 which he sought to be the creator as he was the 
 apostle. 
 
 It is not agreeable to admit this impression 
 of the great Cretan, because it is at variance 
 with the popular judgment of the nobility of his 
 character and the unselfishness of his purpose. 
 In spite of my liking for M. Venizelos, a liking 
 which I am sure was shared by every delegate to 
 the Peace Conference whose national interests 
 did not clash with those of Greece, I could not 
 avoid the impression that, in the endeavor to 
 accomplish his aims for his nation and for his 
 own political future, he was disposed to adopt 
 the methods of Balkan diplomacy, in which he 
 had proven himself an adept, and which are 
 supposed to be by no means as scrupulous and 
 free from deception as the highest standard of 
 statesmanship required of a negotiator. 
 
 Yet, in stating this impression of the character 
 and personal qualities of Eleftherios Venizelos, I 
 cannot deny that it is done with hesitation and 
 with a measure of uncertainty. The sentimental 
 and rational points of view are strangely an- 
 
 [ 158 1 
 
Venizelos 
 
 tagonistic. My impression may be wrong. It 
 would be a real gratification to find that it was, 
 because I would like to feel that the attractive 
 personality of the Venizelos whom I knew was 
 the personality of the real Venizelos, and that 
 there was nothing beneath the surface, nothing 
 hidden in his thought and purpose, which con- 
 tradicted the openness of his manner and the 
 candor of his words. It is not easy with a man of 
 such personal charm to doubt his sincerity of 
 conduct or to question the ideals which seemed 
 to influence him. To do so is to deny the evidence 
 of personal feelings, a denial which a man is 
 loath to make. For that reason it has been a 
 hard task to give my actual impression of the 
 Greek Premier, whose career as a delegate to the 
 Peace Conference was brilliant and successful 
 and whose personal attainments and achieve- 
 ments have won for him universal praise through- 
 out the nations opposed to the Central Powers. 
 While subsequent events have caused amazement 
 and aroused queries as to how far M. Venizelos 
 truly represented the Greek people, the impres- 
 sion which I gained of him during our sojourn in 
 Paris has not been materially affected, though 
 his rejection in the elections of 1921 made me 
 
 [ 159 ] 
 
Venizelos 
 
 feel less doubtful of the correctness of my own 
 thoughts regarding him, which I could not sup- 
 press while I was in Paris or later when the 
 Treaty of Sevres was being negotiated. 
 
 In a way the personality of M. Venizelos re- 
 mains an enigma which cannot be solved until 
 years have passed and one can look back over the 
 history of this period unaffected by the present 
 chaotic state of Southeastern Europe and by the 
 passions unloosed in this World War. Only with 
 these events as a background can the actors 
 stand out in their true perspective. To-day the 
 impression is vivid, but its accuracy or inac- 
 curacy will only be disclosed by time when the 
 critical historian and biographer are uninfluenced 
 by the little things which are so potent in the 
 forming of contemporary opinions of character. 
 
 I 160 ] 
 
EMIR FEISUL 
 
 The impression made by the physical qualities of 
 a man and that made by his intellectual attain- 
 ments are not always easy to dissociate, nor is it 
 easy to give them their relative value in the 
 estimating of character. Undoubtedly a first 
 impression is due to the sense of sight and is 
 modified or removed only when association 
 furnishes opportunity to know and measure a 
 man's mentality and the spirit and motives 
 which lie behind his words and thoughts. 
 
 Physical attractions and agreeable manners 
 may make a favorable impression, but this im- 
 pression may vanish, if beneath the pleasing 
 exterior of a man there is discovered a mind 
 tainted with viciousness, weakness, or unworthy 
 purpose. On the other hand, a man may be un- 
 attractive or insignificant in appearance, without 
 grace of manner, even uncouth, but withal the 
 possessor of lofty sentiments and of intellectual 
 talents which cause one to forget his physical 
 defects and to see only the finer qualities of his 
 nature. 
 
 [101 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 Nevertheless, the influence of visual sensations 
 cannot be ignored in the attempt to analyze an 
 impression of a man's personality. Those sensa- 
 tions, even when denied by previous knowledge 
 or by reason, are apt to persist, and to affect to a 
 degree an opinion founded on more substantial 
 grounds. If the impression, subsequently ac- 
 quired through mental processes, confirms the 
 verdict of the senses, the impression becomes 
 deeper and more certain. When the physical and 
 intellectual qualities seem to be entirely in har- 
 mony, an observer feels that his first impression 
 is a true estimate of character, an estimate which 
 only the most convincing evidence can change. 
 
 This attempt to look back to the sources of 
 impressions, and to determine the standard of 
 relative value to be applied to them, is induced 
 by the thought of the Emir Feisul, the Prince of 
 the Hedjaz. The vivid picture of this distin- 
 guished Arabian that arose in my mind as I 
 thought of him caused me to realize that an 
 unerasable impression had been made upon me 
 by his physical characteristics, his bearing and 
 his dress, as well as the impression made by his 
 mental qualities. From which did I gain the 
 most? Did one impression modify the other? It 
 
 [ 162 ] 
 
Harris & Euing, Washington, B.C. 
 
 ^& $~&J5 
 
 EMIR FEISUL 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 was in analyzing these factors of the problem 
 that I realized that, when they were not at vari- 
 ance, they blended into one which was stronger 
 and deeper because of this unity. 
 
 Of the many prominent representatives of 
 races, nationalities, and creeds, who gathered in 
 Paris to negotiate the treaties of peace and to 
 restore, as far as possible, the political and social 
 order shattered by the war, there was none more 
 striking in appearance than this prince from the 
 Sacred City, where the mysteries of Islam were 
 so long guarded from Christendom by the deserts 
 of Arabia and the fanaticism of the followers of 
 the Prophet. Slender and erect, seeming to be 
 taller than he actually was, his flowing black 
 robe and golden turban, with a richly embroid- 
 ered veil falling gracefully over his shoulders 
 from beneath the turban's edge, enhanced his 
 calm dignity of carriage and the serious expres- 
 sion which never left his face. No one could look 
 at the Emir Feisul without the instinctive feeling 
 that here was a man whom nature had chosen 
 to be a leader of men, a man who was worthy to 
 be a leader of men. 
 
 The features of the Arab Prince were clear-cut, 
 regular, and typical of his race. His hair and 
 
 [ 163] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 beard were black and slightly curling. His lips, 
 which were partially hidden by a small mus- 
 tache, were red and full, but did not indicate 
 grossness or sensuality. His complexion was 
 sallow and slightly mottled like the majority of 
 those of pure Semitic blood. His face was thin 
 and, though with few lines and wrinkles, was 
 strong and earnest in expression. His dark eyes 
 were serene and kindly, but one could easily 
 imagine that they would flash fire under the 
 excitement of conflict or the impulse of violent 
 emotion. Candor and truth were in the straight- 
 forward look from his eyes. He had none of that 
 subtlety of expression, that ill-concealed crafti- 
 ness, which is so often characteristic of the facial 
 lines of the natives of Southwestern Asia. 
 
 The movements of the Emir Feisul were al- 
 ways unhurried and stately. He moved and 
 spoke with deliberation and dignity. One felt 
 his reserve power and his strength of character, 
 while there was the feeling that he possessed a 
 profundity of thought which raised him above 
 the common man. He suggested the calmness 
 and peace of the desert, the meditation of one 
 who lives in the wide spaces of the earth, the 
 solemnity of thought of one who often communes 
 
 [ 164 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 alone with nature. Everything about the Emir 
 commanded respect. In him one seemed to see 
 nobility of character and nobility of purpose. 
 That was the impression that he made upon me 
 when I first saw the picturesque chieftain of the 
 Hedjaz, and that is the impression that remained 
 unchanged when I came to know him better 
 and to appreciate the intellectual force which 
 harmonized so entirely with his physical char- 
 acteristics. 
 
 Though Prince Feisul was comparatively 
 young in years, he showed a maturity of judg- 
 ment and a self-restraint which one does not 
 usually associate with youth, at least not with 
 the youth of our Western World. In appear- 
 ance and address he might have been one of the 
 prophets of ancient days with his burden of 
 foreknowledge and with his divinely imposed 
 task to proclaim it to his fellow-men. There was 
 also about him, though not out of accord with his 
 prophetic type, the suggestion of the chivalry of 
 the days when the wealth and culture of the 
 world were gathered in the cities of Baghdad and 
 Cordova, and when the Saracen Caliphs were 
 the great patrons of art and learning. He 
 seemed to belong to the age when Islam had 
 
 I 105 J 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 attained the zenith of its power and magnifi- 
 cence, as well as to the age of the Israelite kings. 
 
 Yet with the dual suggestion of an ancient seer 
 and a Moslem paladin this Arabian was not 
 wanting in modern thought and ways. He had led 
 his army of one hundred thousand men north- 
 ward from Mecca and Medina, and, employing 
 all the enginery and art of modern warfare, had 
 cooperated successfully with the British against 
 the Turkish forces. He had proven himself a 
 skillful general, a strategist of no mean ability, 
 and above all a master in the control of the rude 
 Bedouin tribes who fought under his banner and 
 to whom the discipline of modern troops was 
 normally distasteful. However wild and un- 
 trained the nomad bands who flocked to his 
 standard, he was able to weld them into a fight- 
 ing machine which was of material aid to his 
 British allies in driving out of Palestine and Syria 
 the veteran forces of the Ottoman Empire, whose 
 excellence as soldiers has long been proverbial. 
 His military record is an enviable one, and in 
 dealing with civilians he exhibited the same 
 forcefulness and sagacity that characterized his 
 career as a martial leader. 
 
 But the achievements of the Arab Prince were 
 I 166 1 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 not due to his ability alone. The task of forming 
 and directing the armies of the Hedjaz was 
 shared by Colonel Thomas Lawrence, the young 
 British archreologist, who, abandoning the re- 
 searches in which he was engaged, became the 
 chief adviser of the Emir in preparing the Arabs 
 to wage war against the Ottoman Empire and 
 his efficient lieutenant in the conduct of military 
 operations. And yet, while Colonel Lawrence is 
 entitled to a generous share in the praise for all 
 that was accomplished, the fact in no way lessens 
 the credit due to the Emir Feisul for the success 
 of the Arab arms. It was about him, a Moslem, 
 that the tribesmen gathered. It was for his sake 
 that they rushed into battle against the Turks. 
 He was the personification of a cause, the living 
 inspiration to Arab unity and independence. 
 Without him success would have been impossible. 
 But success resulted from the combined efforts 
 of these two talented men ; the one, the sagacious 
 Moslem leader of his countrymen; the other, 
 the wise British counselor and faithful friend of 
 the Arabs. 
 
 The Emir Feisul came to the Peace Conference 
 with the purpose, and I believe with the expecta- 
 tion, of founding an Arab kingdom extending 
 
 [ 167 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 northward from the desert wastes of the Arabian 
 Peninsula to the Taurus Mountains and the 
 borders of old Armenia, and from the Euphrates 
 to the Mediterranean. The vast majority of the 
 inhabitants of this region were of Arabian and 
 Aramean stocks and with few exceptions be- 
 lievers in the Koran. The capital of this new 
 state was to be Damascus, the royal city of the 
 ancient Kingdom of Syria, which was so power- 
 ful and important in the time when Samaria was 
 the capital of Israel. The Emir's desire seems to 
 have been to include Palestine within the bound- 
 aries of the proposed state, a not unreasonable 
 desire in view of the fact that nearly nine tenths 
 of the population of that territory are to-day of 
 Arab blood, though I think that he could not 
 have been sanguine of achieving this wish in 
 view of the Zionist Movement which had re- 
 ceived the unqualified support of the British 
 Government. 
 
 He presented the Arab claim and the aspira- 
 tions of the Mahommedans of Syria before the 
 Council of Ten of the Peace Conference. Un- 
 questionably he impressed his hearers strongly 
 with the soundness of his arguments and with 
 the calm and judicial way in which he gave his 
 
 [ 168 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 reasons for the rebirth of Syria as an independent 
 state. Without gestures and without evidence 
 of emotion, yet with an earnestness which gave 
 great weight to his words, the unfamiliar Arabic 
 fell from his lips to be caught up by his skilled 
 interpreters and converted into English and 
 French phrases. The Prince spoke with solemn 
 dignity, perhaps it would be more accurate to 
 say with stateliness, and with an ease of utter- 
 ance which denoted familiarity in addressing 
 public assemblages. One longed to be able to 
 understand the language which he used, for 
 there is no doubt that his sentences lost much 
 through translation, particularly in the vividness 
 of expression where the Arabic idiom found 
 no direct counterpart in the European tongues. 
 But even with this handicap to a perfect sub- 
 mission of his case, his manner of address and the 
 tones of voice seemed to breathe the perfume 
 of frankincense and to suggest the presence of 
 richly colored divans, green turbans, and the 
 glitter of gold and jewels. 
 
 As the slender Arab stood before the Council 
 in his flowing robe and curiously wrought head- 
 dress with his fine features and serene expression, 
 he looked the Oriental monarch that he aspired 
 
 f 109 1 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 to be. One could easily imagine him to be the 
 reincarnation of Haroun al Raschid, one fitted 
 to be the Caliph of the new Caliphate of Damas- 
 cus, who personified the union of our present 
 civilization with the traditions and splendors of 
 a thousand years ago. 
 
 But the Emir Feisul met in Paris forces more 
 powerful and less easy to overcome than the 
 Turkish armies against which he had battled so 
 successfully. There had existed for generations 
 throughout the Christian world an antipathy 
 toward the Mahommedan faith, which had 
 found evil expression in the tyranny of Turkish 
 rule and in the unspeakable atrocities perpe- 
 trated by the Tartars of Asia and the fanatical 
 tribesmen of the Soudan. The savagery and 
 depravity of modern Islam had become intoler- 
 able. The Christian nations only sought op- 
 portunity to free the Christians of those regions 
 from the degraded state to which they had fallen 
 through centuries of Moslem oppression. The 
 collapse of the Ottoman Empire offered this 
 opportunity and the European delegates to the 
 Paris Conference were generally determined to 
 prevent a restoration of the power of the Mussul- 
 man in the territories which had been subject to 
 
 [ 170 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 the sovereignty of the Sultan and a prey to the 
 villainies of Turkish officials. 
 
 This atmosphere of hostility to Moslem rule 
 made the purpose of the Emir Feisul to create a 
 new Kingdom of Syria — which, remember, was 
 to be a new Moslem kingdom — difficult of 
 accomplishment. While it was recognized that 
 there was every reason to believe that there 
 would be a great difference between a Turkish 
 government and an Arab government, the feeling 
 persisted that the teachings of the Koran, inter- 
 preted as they had been by the " unspeakable 
 Turk," offered little promise of toleration of 
 other religions, especially of Christianity. Had 
 it been a question of the revival of the Ottoman 
 Empire within its old frontiers, there would 
 have been no discussion. The Conference was 
 emphatically opposed to such a revival. But the 
 creation of a new Arab state was different. It 
 was a new idea and introduced a new element 
 into the problem of territorial adjustments in the 
 Near East. In fact the important part played by 
 the Arabs in the conflict against the Turks and 
 the antagonism existing between the Kingdom of 
 the Hedjaz and the Sultan's Empire offered the 
 possibility of destroying the unity of the Moslem 
 
 [ 171 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 world and breaking down the movement of Pan- 
 Islamism whieh was a growing menace to the 
 peace of Asia. So appealing was this policy from 
 a political point of view, especially when it was 
 urged by Prince Feisul, whose personality won 
 him friends on every hand, that it might have 
 succeeded in overcoming the common sentiment 
 against the erection of a Moslem-ruled Syria if 
 it had not been for other forces exerted against 
 its adoption. 
 
 These other forces were less worthy than the 
 desire to free the Christians of Syria and the 
 Jews of Palestine from the tyranny and oppres- 
 sion of Moslem governors. They were the ambi- 
 tions of some of the Great Powers and the jeal- 
 ousies which existed between them as to their 
 respective influence and commercial advantages 
 in the Near East. France, the historic champion 
 of the Christians of The Lebanon, had looked 
 forward to obtaining control of Syria when the 
 Turkish Empire was broken up. French senti- 
 ment, as well as the prospect of material benefit, 
 demanded Syria; and this had been agreed to 
 by Great Britain, while France had agreed that 
 the British share of the spoils should be the 
 rich valleys of Mesopotamia and also Palestine, 
 [ 172 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 the proposed national home for the Jews. The 
 acceptance of the idea of an independent Syria 
 under Arab sovereignty would destroy this 
 agreement, and turn the coveted territories over 
 to a government which might prevent the ex- 
 ploitation of their resources by the powers which 
 had long realized their economic possibilities. 
 
 While the British Government might have 
 listened with a friendly ear to the proposals of 
 the Emir except those in conflict with the 
 promises made to the Zionists concerning Pales- 
 tine, the French Government was unequivocally 
 opposed to Arab control. The suggestion of such 
 a disposition of Syria seemed to arouse their in- 
 dignation. They declared that it could not be 
 for a moment considered, that the division of that 
 portion of dismembered Turkey had been defi- 
 nitely arranged during the progress of the war, 
 and that they did not propose to compel the 
 freed Christians to submit again to the fanati- 
 cal oppression and cruelty of Moslem rulers. 
 Though the sentimental reason of protecting 
 Christians was urged with frequency and vigor, 
 it was almost impossible to avoid the suspicion 
 that material interests had a decided effect on 
 the French position. Probably, too, the fact 
 
 [ H3 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 that the Arabs had cooperated with the British 
 forces in the Near East caused the belief that 
 Syria as an independent Arab state would be 
 subject chiefly to British influence and open a 
 field for British enterprise and investment, a 
 field which the French had the anticipation of 
 dominating. A possible conflict of interests, im- 
 pairing a possible benefit, apparently induced 
 France to repudiate the thought of a new King- 
 dom of Syria. 
 
 The emissary of the Arabian people, the 
 spokesman of the Moslems, who so vastly out- 
 numbered the Syrians of other creeds, could do 
 nothing against these influences. He failed in his 
 mission to Paris, and his failure has passed into 
 history. Great Britain and France denied inde- 
 pendence to the Syrian Arabs, and, when Prince 
 Feisul later attempted to assume the throne of 
 Syria, they compelled him by force or the menace 
 of force to abandon the adventure, while they 
 took over the government and nominated them- 
 selves as mandatories under the League of Na- 
 tions in accordance with the Sykes-Picot Agree- 
 ment. 
 
 One cannot look forward to the future of 
 Syria without apprehension or without question- 
 [ 174 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 ing the political stability of the treaty settle- 
 ments. Will the great body of Moslem Syrians 
 remain satisfied and content or will they in the 
 future become ardent supporters of Pan-Islam- 
 ism and rise in rebellion against their Chris- 
 tian rulers, delivering the scepter to the man 
 who so faithfully represented them against their 
 Turkish oppressors and so eloquently advocated 
 Syrian independence before the Peace Confer- 
 ence? Is there to be no more uncertainty, no fur- 
 ther change in the sovereignty? The unbidden 
 thought arises that it may not be long before war 
 again sweeps across the rich valleys and barren 
 wildernesses which lie between the shores of the 
 Mediterranean and the banks of the Euphrates. 
 The seeds of discontent and hatred have been 
 sown in fertile soil; it needs but time and prepa- 
 ration under the direction of a masterful and 
 resourceful leader for those seeds to germinate 
 and to bear the bitter fruit of conflict. 
 
 It may seem that I have gone far afield from 
 the impression made upon me by the Emir 
 Feisul at Paris in setting forth the difficulties 
 and discouragements which surrounded him, but 
 the impression of his personality was materially 
 affected by his attitude in the environment of the 
 
 [ 175 ] 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 Peace Conference, which was so unfavorable to 
 the cause which he represented. The manner of 
 the man in the circumstances was so admirable 
 that his dignity and poise were emphasized and 
 made a deeper impression because he was striv- 
 ing against irresistible forces. It was a test of 
 character and of temperament which enhanced 
 the high regard in which he was held by the 
 delegates to the Conference. 
 
 Prince Feisul made the impression of one who 
 combined the best and finest traits of Oriental 
 character. Nobility and dignity, honesty and 
 candor, reserve and wisdom, were manifest in his 
 conduct and words. Whatever may have been 
 the merits of his claims and purposes, — and as 
 to those merits there may be from the stand- 
 points of principle and policy sincere differences 
 of opinion, — no one who came into personal 
 contact with the Arabian leader could feel aught 
 but regret for him personally in the failure of 
 his mission. He seemed so eminently fitted for 
 success even though he was of a religion that has 
 been a curse rather than a blessing in so many 
 lands. One could not but wonder if Pan-Islam 
 with its perils to international peace would not 
 have been swept away had an independent 
 
 [ 176 1 
 
Emir Feisul 
 
 Kingdom of Syria been erected with a ruler 
 hostile to the Turks and friendly, if not grate- 
 ful, to the Christian Powers. With Feisul on the 
 throne would not the peace of the Near East 
 have been more secure and the menace of the 
 Ottomans been forever ended? 
 
 Note. — Since the foregoing " impression " was written, the 
 British Government holding the mandate over Mesopotamia 
 directed a tribal referendum on the selection of a king over 
 that territory, with the result that Feisul was overwhelmingly 
 elected. He was immediately proclaimed "King of Irak" and 
 formally recognized as such by Great Britain at the city of 
 Baghdad, the capital of the new Arab state. 
 
 I 17? ] 
 
GENERAL BOTHA 
 
 Another delegate to the Peace Conference who 
 made a strong impression upon me was General 
 Louis Botha, the Premier of the South African 
 Union, who with General Jan C. Smuts repre- 
 sented the united colonies in the large group of 
 delegates which participated in the proceedings 
 at Paris on behalf of the British Empire. Un- 
 fortunately for South Africa and for the Imperial 
 Government, General Botha died soon after his 
 return to his country. It is deplorable that he 
 was not spared to carry on the work of racial 
 unity which he had so effectively championed for 
 over a decade and which promises so much for 
 the future prosperity of the white population of 
 South Africa. 
 
 No one could talk with General Botha without 
 being immediately struck by the fact tnat his 
 outstanding mental quality was practical and 
 unalloyed common sense. He was not lacking in 
 imagination or in ideals, — his whole public ca- 
 reer denied such a lack, — but he measured his 
 ideals and constructive purposes by the standard 
 
 [ 178 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 of practicability and valued them accordingly. I 
 am sure that he viewed untried political theories 
 with suspicion and had to be convinced that they 
 could be reduced to working formulae before he 
 gave to them his actual support. In fact he told 
 me so. He was essentially logical and unemo- 
 tional in whatever he said and whatever he did. 
 The enthusiasm of the visionary made no head- 
 way with him. Reason and facts were what 
 appealed to him. 
 
 His knowledge of human nature, gained 
 through twenty years of conflict and in readjust- 
 ment of the relations between nationalities in 
 South Africa, was a great asset to him in the 
 determination of the wise and politic course to 
 pursue. He seemed to know what the effect of 
 adopting this or that policy would be. He looked 
 forward to the final judgment of men and not to 
 the temporary popularity which a policy might 
 gain under the stress of existing conditions or the 
 passing emotions of an aroused public opinion. 
 He possessed that foresight which sees the end at 
 the beginning and prevents the adoption of a 
 course which may be disastrous or unwise or of 
 doubtful expediency. 
 
 I think the impression that most persons 
 [ 179 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 gained of General Botha on first acquaintance 
 with him, unless familiar with his career, was that 
 his mind worked slowly and that he was slow 
 in grasping the essential features of a subject 
 under discussion. It took, however, but a brief 
 time to remove this impression. Any one at all 
 observant soon realized that his mind was excep- 
 tionally keen, though he was deliberate in form- 
 ing his conclusions and cautious in giving his 
 opinions to others. He thought out a problem to 
 the end before he spoke; and when he did speak 
 his words were carefully chosen and expressed 
 his views with exactness. 
 
 Throughout a discourse on a serious subject 
 General Botha exhibited his regard for practical- 
 ity. There was an entire absence of emotion and 
 of levity. He was positive, but never vehement 
 in speaking. He avoided sentimental appeals, 
 but he did not ignore or undervalue the psycho- 
 logical effect of a proposed policy upon others. 
 He appreciated the importance of sentiment as 
 a force in public affairs, but he never apparently 
 permitted his own emotions to be so stirred 
 that they interfered with his forming an opinion 
 based solely upon reason. The impassioned 
 eloquence of an orator did not, in my judgment, 
 
 [ 180] 
 
General Botha 
 
 swerve hini a hair's breadth from the cold logic 
 of actual facts. I cannot conceive him to have 
 been affected by such influences. It would have 
 been contrary to his very nature. He was a poor 
 "subject" for visionaries to attempt to impress 
 with their hypnotic arts. 
 
 This marked characteristic of the South Afri- 
 can leader's mentality had been evinced through- 
 out his public life. It had had much to do with 
 his having attained so high a place among his 
 countrymen and with their recognition of his 
 ability. As one of the younger Boer generals — 
 he was only thirty-six years old at the time of 
 the South African War — he had risen from the 
 ranks to be commander-in-chief of the Trans- 
 vaal armies. With dauntless spirit he had led his 
 sturdy compatriots against the vastly superior 
 forces of the British and in the years of unequal 
 conflict had shown himself a tireless and skillful 
 military leader. When it became evident beyond 
 question that the Boer cause was hopeless, Gen- 
 eral Botha, with the common sense which char- 
 acterized his acts, accepted defeat as final, and 
 labored for peace even though it meant the 
 surrender to the British Crown of the sovereignty 
 of the Boer Republics. This was no easy or 
 
 [ 181 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 agreeable undertaking, for he had to persuade 
 the fierce old chieftain of the Orange Free State, 
 General De Wet, to submit to the inevitable. 
 That he succeeded was due to the cogency of 
 his arguments as to the hopelessness, and, there- 
 fore, the folly, of continuing the struggle against 
 the superior might of the British Empire. Gen- 
 eral De Wet and the crippled but indomitable 
 Steyne, the President of the southern Boer Re- 
 public, sullenly consented to the peace which de- 
 prived their country of its national life, though 
 in their retirement following the war they cher- 
 ished the hope that the future would offer op- 
 portunity to regain their national independence. 
 General Botha, on the other hand, had a 
 different vision and a different hope for South 
 Africa. Realizing that it was for the interests 
 of his own people to live in amity with their 
 neighbors of British blood and that the restora- 
 tion of Boer independence was practically im- 
 possible, even if desirable, he determined to 
 weld the white populations of South Africa into 
 one people independent to all intents, though 
 acknowledging the sovereignty of the British 
 Crown. How well he and those who aided him 
 in this endeavor succeeded is a fact of history. 
 
 [ 182 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 A less broad-minded and far-seeing statesman 
 than the Transvaal general would have kept 
 alive a spirit of revenge among his countrymen 
 and counseled passive resistance to the British 
 authorities, thus making amalgamation between 
 the two nationalities a long and painful process. 
 That would have been a very natural course to 
 take. It would have conformed with the common 
 conception of patriotism and the usual sentiment 
 of the vanquished toward the victors, but it 
 did not conform with General Botha's views as 
 to what was wise and practical. He may have 
 regretted, and doubtless did regret, the outcome 
 of the war, in which he had been a prominent 
 military figure, but he did not permit vain re- 
 grets or false hopes to cloud his vision as to the 
 future or to impair his sound common sense in 
 dealing with new conditions resulting from the 
 British victory. He knew that the South Afri- 
 can Republic and the Orange Free State could 
 never regain their independence. He accepted 
 the fact of defeat with philosophic calmness 
 and exerted all his influence as a popular com- 
 mander in reconciling his fellow-countrymen to 
 their new allegiance. 
 
 His efforts did not cease with inducing the 
 f 183 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 majority of the Boers to adjust themselves to 
 the idea of British rule, for in seeking the welfare 
 of the inhabitants of the conquered republics 
 he began at once the movement for union of all 
 the South African colonies into a self-governing 
 dominion of the British Empire. In this he was 
 aided by the statesmen of Great Britain, who 
 realized the tremendous advantage to be gained 
 by a political union creating common interests 
 and making possible common action by the 
 white race in South Africa. The successful 
 organization of the Union was largely due to 
 General Botha, and his elevation to the premier- 
 ship was a recognition of his wise statesmanship. 
 He was engaged in breaking down the last 
 barriers of hostile feeling between the two na- 
 tionalities, and in working out an ambitious 
 programme of development and expansion for 
 the Union, when the European War broke out. 
 The situation put to the test his loyalty and 
 wisdom and the strength of the unity for which 
 he had labored. The military demands upon 
 Great Britain in Belgium and Northern France 
 and the presence of German troops in Southwest 
 Africa seemed to offer a favorable opportunity 
 to the unreconciled Boers to recover their in- 
 
 [ 184 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 dependence and possibly to occupy Cape Colony 
 and Natal. A less sagacious statesman than 
 General Botha, and one less appreciative of the 
 great issues at stake in the war, would, in the 
 circumstances, have raised the standard of revolt 
 against British rule. But the Boer Premier never 
 hesitated in his decision or faltered in his alle- 
 giance. He preferred a course which did not 
 violate his sense of honor and which did not 
 endanger the political liberty and equal justice 
 enjoyed by all South Africans as British subjects, 
 irrespective of their nationality. He not only 
 supported with his voice the cause of the battling 
 Allies, but he informed the London Government 
 that they might withdraw for service in Europe 
 the troops stationed in South Africa, assuring 
 them that the Colonial Government would be 
 responsible for the loyalty and defense of the 
 territory. The confidence reposed in the in- 
 tegrity of the Boer leader by the British Govern- 
 ment was shown by the advantage which was 
 immediately taken of this offer. The British 
 garrisons embarked for England. 
 
 In spite of the fine spirit shown by General 
 Botha in this crisis, there were many among the 
 Boers who had continued to cherish a feeling 
 
 [ 185 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 of hatred toward the British and to dream of a 
 return to their former state of independence. To 
 this dissatisfied group the occupied energies of 
 the Empire in the Kfe-and-death struggle in 
 Flanders offered a temptation to cast off their 
 enforced allegiance. As a consequence of this 
 spirit and these conditions, an insurrection broke 
 out in the United Colonies, the insurrectionists 
 undertaking to seize the local governments at 
 various points. The colonial forces, which 
 General Botha had organized, were sent against 
 the rebels, and they were, with little bloodshed, 
 overcome and dispersed. At the head of the 
 movement was the veteran commander-in-chief 
 of the Orange Free State, General De Wet, who 
 had never favored the Botha policy of union and 
 who was an inveterate hater of the British. His 
 capture in the deserts of Bechuanaland by loyal 
 troops brought the rebellion to an end, while the 
 amnesty granted the rebels prevented them from 
 becoming martyrs in the eyes of their country- 
 men and destroyed the possibility of a revival of 
 the movement for independence. 
 
 As soon as the rebels at home had been sup- 
 pressed, General Botha led his colonial forces into 
 German Southwest Africa overcoming the garri- 
 
 [ 186 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 sons in that territory and raising over the colony 
 the Union Jack of the British Empire in place of 
 the Black Eagle of Prussia. 
 
 General Jan C. Smuts saw the situation as 
 General Botha saw it. He was the latter's 
 faithful lieutenant in the field as he had been in 
 the movement for union and in the political 
 administration of the country. It was the sound 
 judgment and prompt action of these two Boer 
 statesmen and generals which saved South 
 Africa from a civil war which would have caused 
 much suffering and loss to the colonists and re- 
 awakened all the antipathy and bitterness be- 
 tween the nationalities which had been rapidly 
 disappearing under the leadership of Louis 
 Botha. But their statesmanship went further 
 than that. They looked beyond the boundaries 
 and coasts of South Africa, and without hesita- 
 tion showed that they preferred to stand side 
 by side with the men who, but a few years before, 
 had conquered them and annexed their country, 
 but had given them political liberty, rather than 
 to stand against them and support the Prussians 
 in their designs of world empire. It was a big- 
 hearted, a large-minded, a noble decision. It is 
 an example of the highest type of statesmanship. 
 
 [ 187 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 It makes famous the names of Louis Botha and 
 Jan C. Smuts in the annals of the World War. 
 The conduct of these two great Boers in this 
 critical time should not be forgotten when we 
 recall the acts which excite our admiration and 
 praise and which are worthy to be remembered 
 by posterity. How eminently proper it was that 
 they should represent South Africa at Paris. 
 
 Both General Botha and General Smuts im- 
 pressed me as belonging to the class of men 
 popularly termed " sound and substantial." 
 There was a simplicity of manner, an absence of 
 affectation, a frankness of speech, an intellectual 
 honesty about them, that appealed strongly to 
 one who came in contact with them. You 
 trusted them because you knew instinctively 
 that they were worthy of your trust. They 
 seemed to lack the art of dissimulation, so that 
 they were distinguished from the many adepts in 
 that art to be found among the delegates to the 
 Peace Conference. They spoke their minds 
 freely without attempting to soften the truth or 
 to make it more palatable, and yet their attitude 
 was one of kindliness and consideration. General 
 Botha — and I am disposed to add General 
 Smuts, though with less certainty — belonged to 
 
 [ 188 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 the type of public men who develop under the 
 plain conditions of pioneer life and the constant 
 struggle against primitive nature. It is a fine 
 type; in many ways the finest type. To that 
 type belonged Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 While I have considered General Botha and 
 General Smuts together, because their public 
 lives were to an extent formed by the same 
 experience and consequently possessed many 
 characteristics in common, they were by no 
 means identical in certain of their attributes and 
 attainments. General Smuts, educated at one of 
 the great English universities, was undoubtedly 
 more cultured, and possessed a more far-reaching 
 imagination than his great leader. Some would 
 possibly say that he had a wider vision. I prefer 
 to call it imagination. He worked out, prior to 
 the assembling of the Peace Conference, a plan 
 for a League of Nations which became the basis 
 of the plan adopted in the Treaty of Versailles. 
 This plan furnishes an excellent example of his 
 mental caliber as a constructive political thinker. 
 
 I do not believe that General Botha, with his 
 
 high regard for practicality and his unwillingness 
 
 to adopt a political theory which had not been 
 
 tested by actual application, would have pre- 
 
 [ 189 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 sented a plan like that proposed by General 
 Smuts. He possessed foresight rather than an 
 adventurous imagination. He had his ideals, 
 but he was not an idealist. He had vision, but he 
 was not a visionary. It is hard to explain just 
 the distinction that I would convey between his 
 mentality and that of his colleague. Perhaps it 
 may be stated to be the difference between a 
 theory which is certainly practicable and a theory 
 which is possibly practicable. Perhaps it can be 
 expressed by the difference between the assertion 
 that two and two make four if past experience 
 applies, and the assertion that two and two may, 
 if an unusual theory is accepted, make five. In 
 any event, the attempt to define the distinction 
 between the intellectual processes of these two 
 men involves a subtlety of thought which is 
 difficult to put into exact terms. 
 
 In comparing the impressions made upon me 
 by the two Boer statesmen, I realize that that 
 made by General Botha was much more posi- 
 tive and much stronger than that made by 
 General Smuts. While this was due in no small 
 degree to the fact that I saw General Botha fre- 
 quently and had little intercourse with General 
 Smuts, I think that it was influenced by the 
 
 [ 190 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 belief that General Botha's character seemed to 
 me the stronger of the two. He did not have the 
 vivacity of mind which comes with a restless 
 imagination. He kept his feet on the ground and 
 dealt with certainties rather than with possi- 
 bilities. He did not stumble because he was not 
 constantly gazing at the stars. Some would have 
 called him commonplace. Doubtless many did 
 call him so in thought if not in word. I think 
 that those who so judged him mistook the com- 
 monplace for a plainness born of common sense. 
 
 From his experience of men and things and 
 from his discerning knowledge of that undefin- 
 able but all-pervading quality which we term 
 human nature, General Botha obtained his con- 
 clusions, and on these conclusions he built his 
 judgments or by them guided his course of ac- 
 tion. His sentiments never diverted the current 
 of his reason. It was a steady, uninterrupted flow 
 which was well-nigh irresistible. His logic was 
 cold, exact, and unemotional. The soundness 
 and clarity of his thought carried conviction. 
 
 An example of the way in which General 
 Botha's practical common sense dominated his 
 feelings was furnished by his attitude toward the 
 articles in the Treaty of Versailles providing for 
 
 [191 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 the political trial of the former German Emperor 
 and his officers upon charges of responsibility for 
 beginning the war and for the atrocious and in- 
 human acts perpetrated by the German soldiery 
 during the invasion of Belgium and France. 
 Though he frankly stated his loathing for these 
 men and his indignation at the abominable 
 wrongs committed by their orders or with their 
 apparent approval, he strongly opposed their 
 punishment by the Allies, because he was con- 
 vinced that, if they were punished, the German 
 people would canonize them as national martyrs 
 and cherish in their hearts a spirit of hatred and 
 revenge toward their judges which would ulti- 
 mately bring about another war. The astute 
 South African statesman, who knew from per- 
 sonal experience the spirit and temper of a van- 
 quished people, was willing and in fact intensely 
 anxious to abandon the infliction of just penalties 
 on these violators of international peace and the 
 laws of humanity, because he knew that aban- 
 donment of punishments would make the peace 
 more enduring by removing the incentive to 
 retaliate. So strongly was he convinced of this 
 course that he said to me one day, when we were 
 lunching together, that his conscience and reason 
 
 [ 192 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 told him not to sign the treaty, which had then 
 been delivered to the German delegates, unless 
 the articles providing for penalties were ex- 
 punged. For a long time he remained, to my 
 knowledge, uncertain as to his duty, and he de- 
 termined to affix his signature to the document 
 only when he was convinced that his refusal 
 might produce a greater evil by delaying the 
 restoration of peace and by encouraging the 
 radical elements in the Central Empires to at- 
 tempt to seize the governments at Berlin and 
 Vienna. He was not alone in being compelled by 
 the logic of the situation, which made Bolshe- 
 vism a very real peril, to subordinate his personal 
 convictions and inclinations and to make choice 
 between two evils. 
 
 In this rational attitude toward the danger of 
 perpetuating hatreds and resentments by the 
 terms of peace, General Botha was closely fol- 
 lowed by General Smuts, but I believe that this 
 sane view of the policy which ought to be adopted 
 originated with General Botha. The private 
 conversations which I had with him, concerning 
 the subject of punishing individuals, showed an 
 earnest opposition to such a course, even before 
 the insistence of Mr. Lloyd George, for political 
 
 [ 193 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 reasons, and of the French, out of a very natu- 
 ral spirit of retaliation, had forced the articles 
 on penalties to be written into the Treaty of 
 Versailles. 
 
 Physically General Botha was a large, strongly 
 built man, with a tendency toward heaviness 
 which made him rather slow and clumsy in his 
 movements. He had a decidedly Dutch cast of 
 countenance with roundness of face, high cheek- 
 bones, and few wrinkles. His hair, mustache, 
 and imperial were dark, as were his eyes. His 
 mouth was wide with thick lips. His teeth, which 
 were neither white nor even, were large and very 
 much in evidence when he smiled or talked. His 
 simplicity of dress and manner was conspicuous. 
 In conversation he always spoke in a straight- 
 forward way with little emphasis. There was 
 nothing in his voice which distinguished it from 
 that of the average man. He used a simple vo- 
 cabulary and used it well, speaking, however, 
 with a slight accent. He possessed humor rather 
 than wit. He was an excellent talker, having a 
 fund of anecdotes of South African life and 
 personal experiences which he related in an 
 entertaining manner. When he ventured to 
 speculate on the future and its problems, his 
 
 [ 194 ] 
 
General Botha 
 
 listener could not but feel that his foundation 
 was laid in facts and that he based his deductions 
 on sound premises. There was a practicality 
 about his utterances, an avoidance of extremes, 
 and an accuracy of reasoning which made his 
 deductions of unusual value. 
 
 Louis Botha impressed me as a soldier who 
 hated war and abhorred militarism, and as a 
 statesman without vanity or personal ambition, 
 whose principal characteristics were honesty of 
 purpose, unaffected simplicity of manner, and 
 candor of address. For him to engage in intrigue 
 or to act unjustly was unthinkable. His patri- 
 otism was not of the emotional type which acted 
 on impulse and bubbled over with uncontrolled 
 enthusiasm. It was deeper and more earnest and 
 more useful to his country than the frothy type, 
 for it was founded on an abiding faith in his 
 fellow-men and in a love of humanity which 
 tempered justice with mercy and a sense of 
 personal wrong with a spirit of forgiveness. His 
 long and active public career with its record of 
 achievement is ample justification for any en- 
 comium that may be paid to his memory. 
 Through his death the Union of South Africa lost 
 its greatest statesman and the British Empire 
 
 [ 195 1 
 
General Botha 
 
 one of its wisest counselors and most loyal leaders 
 at a time when his cool and sober judgment were 
 especially needed, and when the universal con- 
 fidence and respect in which he was held by his 
 people would have exerted a powerful influence 
 in bringing into complete unity the two nation- 
 alities in South Africa, to accomplish which had 
 been the ambition of his life, the hope that had 
 inspired his public service. 
 
 [ 196 1 
 
PADEREWSKI 
 
 Among the statesmen who assembled in Paris in 
 December, 1918, to formulate the terms of peace 
 to be imposed on the defeated Powers of Central 
 Europe, Ignace Jan Paderewski, the Minister for 
 Foreign Affairs and the Premier of the new-born 
 Republic of Poland, was a notable figure, not 
 only because of his personality, but because he 
 represented a country which, through its fortitude 
 and faith in spite of the inconceivable agonies 
 which its people endured during the war, had 
 won back its national life and independence torn 
 from it over a hundred years ago by the greed 
 and jealousies of the two Central Powers and 
 Russia. The partition of the ancient Kingdom of 
 Poland, which had been so powerful in Eastern 
 Europe during the seventeenth century, but 
 which had been weakened by internal dissensions 
 and by the foreign intrigues of its political fac- 
 tions, is a dark page in the history of modern 
 civilization. The dismemberment of so large and 
 populous a territory possessing solidarity in race, 
 language, and religion, such as Poland possessed, 
 was an international crime which hardly finds a 
 
 [ 197 1 
 
Paderewski 
 
 parallel in the annals of the past four hundred 
 years. 
 
 In spite, however, of the submergence of the 
 Poles as a nation for a century and the persistent 
 efforts of their conquerors to break their spirit of 
 national entity, they transmitted from genera- 
 tion to generation the hope that they would 
 again be a sovereign people, and that the broken 
 pieces of their country would be reunited so that 
 Poland might again take her place as a member 
 of the family of nations. With this hope a living 
 force in binding the Polish people together, they 
 tenaciously clung to their language, their creed, 
 their traditions, and above all to their hatred of 
 the domination of those who had deprived them 
 of their national existence. 
 
 The result of the World War made possible 
 the realization of this constant hope. The oppor- 
 tunity had come to consummate it. With this 
 supreme end in view, Poland sent to Paris 
 Ignace Paderewski and Roman Dmowski to 
 negotiate the terms to be incorporated in the 
 peace treaties and in a treaty of Poland with 
 the principal Powers. Their task, in spite of 
 the sympathetic attitude of the Allies and the 
 United States, was not an easy one. There were 
 [ 198 1 
 
C_£^" 
 
Paderewski 
 
 very difficult problems to be solved in the de- 
 limitation of the frontiers of Poland, for her 
 territory, while she was an independent state, 
 had been a variable quantity, since her borders 
 had fluctuated with the triumph or failure of her 
 arms in the wars in which the Poles were almost 
 incessantly engaged during the sixteenth, seven- 
 teenth, and eighteenth centuries. At what period 
 in Polish history did the boundaries enclose Po- 
 land proper? What ethnic and economic con- 
 siderations must enter into the determination of 
 the new boundaries? These were questions, the 
 answers to which were vital, not only to the 
 future of Poland, but also to the future peace of 
 Eastern Europe and to the stability of the settle- 
 ments under the treaties. In formulating these 
 answers Mr. Paderewski took a leading part, and, 
 though naturally prejudiced in favor of extending 
 Polish sovereignty to the limit of her historic 
 possessions, he was not unmindful of the great 
 underlying idea that the new Poland must be a 
 state possible of military defense as well as of an 
 independent economic life. 
 
 In looking back over the years of the war and 
 the months succeeding the signing of the armi- 
 stice on November 11, 1918, I realize that I had 
 
 I 199 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 two distinct, and to an extent contradictory, 
 impressions made upon me by Mr. Paderewski. 
 The first impression was that which I gained in 
 the United States while the war was in progress, 
 an impression which was superseded and sub- 
 stantially extinguished by a later impression 
 which resulted from a more intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the Polish statesman and which was 
 confirmed by his record at Warsaw and at Paris. 
 
 My original impression was not one of a 
 complimentary nature in view of the task which 
 he had undertaken in behalf of his country. It 
 was due undoubtedly to the fact that he was a 
 great pianist, the greatest, I believe, of his 
 generation. I felt that his artistic temperament, 
 his passionate devotion to music, his intense 
 emotions, and his reputed eccentricities indicated 
 a lack of the qualities of mind which made it 
 possible for him to deal with the intricate po- 
 litical problems which it would be necessary to 
 solve in the restoration of Polish independence 
 and the revival of Polish sovereignty. 
 
 When the famous musician came to see me in 
 my office at the Department of State, as he did 
 on many occasions after the United States had 
 entered the war, for the purpose of pleading the 
 
 [ 200 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 cause of his country and of obtaining consent to 
 the recruiting of a Polish army in the United 
 States, I could not avoid the thought that his 
 emotions were leading him into a path which he 
 was wholly unsuited to follow. With his long 
 flaxen hair sprinkled with gray and brushed back 
 like a mane from his broad white forehead, with 
 his extremely low collar and dangling black 
 necktie accentuating the length of his neck, with 
 his peculiarly narrow eyes and his small mus- 
 tache and goatee that looked so foreign, he ap- 
 peared to be a man absorbed in the aesthetic 
 things of life rather than in practical world 
 politics. My feeling was that I had to deal with 
 one given over to extravagant ideals, to the 
 visions and fantasies of a person controlled by 
 his emotional impulses rather than by his reason 
 and the actualities of life. I was impressed by 
 his fervid patriotism, and by his intense devotion 
 to the cause of Poland, but it was not unnatural 
 to think that so temperamental a nature would 
 be swayed by sentimentality in the advocacy of 
 a course of action and would give passionate 
 support to his ideas with little regard to logic 
 or practical considerations. 
 
 Holding this impression of Mr. Paderewski, an 
 [ 201 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 impression which I believe was shared by many 
 of those with whom he came in contact in those 
 early days of his active work for his country, I 
 confess that I was not disposed to give the weight 
 to his opinions that I did later. I liked him 
 personally. I was glad to see him enter my office, 
 for I always found pleasure in talking with him. 
 I admired the intensity of his advocacy of 
 Polish independence and the patriotism which 
 had induced him to abandon his musical career 
 so that he might devote his life to the cause of 
 his country. His cordiality of manner and ad- 
 dress was very attractive. He was a likable, I 
 think I may say a lovable man in every sense of 
 the term. Yet at the time of which I am speaking 
 there was the ever-present sense that he lived 
 in the realm of musical harmonies and that he 
 could not come down to material things and 
 grapple with the hard facts of life. It seemed as 
 if he could not realize the difficulties of the part 
 which he had chosen to play in the tragical drama 
 of world affairs. In truth, I thought that he was 
 making a mistake. 
 
 This was my early impression of Mr. Paderew- 
 ski. It was only with time and with a fuller 
 knowledge of the man that I learned how wrong 
 
 [ 202 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 this impression was and how completely I had 
 failed to estimate correctly his attainments and 
 his real mental strength. The new impression, 
 which I feel is the true one, did not at once sup- 
 plant the old. It came by degrees and only over- 
 came the first impression by observation of facts 
 which could not be successfully questioned or 
 denied. Possibly it is erroneous to term this 
 later view an impression, as it is based on 
 substantial evidence. It may be more exact to 
 term it a conviction. 
 
 That the change was not more immediate and 
 did not earlier remove my first impression was 
 due, I think, in no small measure to a mental 
 attitude common to the majority of men in 
 judging personality, and that is the attitude 
 caused by the strength and tenacity of a first 
 impression even when it has little substance in 
 fact on which to rest. The psychology of favor- 
 able and unfavorable estimates of capacity, and 
 of the relative value of apparent contradictions 
 in traits of character, has to do very much with 
 first impressions and with the receptivity of the 
 mind of the observer. In studying these I be- 
 lieve that it will be found to be a rule with few 
 exceptions that first impressions acquired on cas- 
 
 [ 203 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 u al acquaintance sink deep into the mind and 
 are not easy to change or eradicate. 
 
 I found, at least, that this was true in the case 
 of Mr. Paderewski. For a musician of his genius, 
 which necessarily implied a nature sensitive and 
 responsive to emotional influences and to the 
 aesthetic beauties of art, to be transformed, as 
 it were overnight, into a cool, hard-headed states- 
 man dealing wisely with rough and ugly facts, 
 seemed to deny all common experience. It was 
 hard to believe that such a complete change 
 of thought and object in life was real. But, as 
 the Polish hope of independence developed into 
 a certainty, and as Mr. Paderewski became more 
 and more prominent in moulding the policies 
 and directing the activities of the Polish organ- 
 izations in this and other countries, I was com- 
 pelled hesitatingly but very gladly to revise my 
 judgment and recognize that my first impression 
 was wrong; I think that I may say that it was 
 unjust, though excusable. 
 
 My second impression — and it is the im- 
 pression that I still hold — was that Ignace 
 Paderewski was a greater statesman than he was 
 a musician, that he was an able and tactful 
 leader of his countrymen and a sagacious dip- 
 [ 204 J 
 
Paderewski 
 
 lomat, and that his emotional temperament, 
 while it intensified his patriotic zeal and his 
 spirit of self-sacrifice, never controlled or ad- 
 versely affected the soundness of his judgment or 
 his practical point of view. 
 
 The first direct evidence of his capacity as 
 a leader which impressed me was his successful 
 effort to unite the jealous and bickering Polish 
 factions in the United States and to obtain their 
 common acceptance of the authority of the 
 National Polish Council in Paris. Others had 
 attempted the task and failed. Factionalism had 
 been the vice and weakness of the old Kingdom 
 of Poland. With the brightening hope of a Polish 
 republic this national evil seemed to revive. I 
 am convinced that Mr. Paderewski was the only 
 Pole who could have overcome this menace to 
 the cause of Poland, a menace since it seriously 
 impaired the possibility of the recognition of 
 the National Council at Paris by the Allies. His 
 powers of persuasion, which seemed to spring at 
 once into being with his entry upon a political 
 career, his enthusiastic confidence in the resur- 
 rection of Poland as an independent state, and 
 his entire freedom from personal ambition marie 
 him the one man about whom the Poles, regard- 
 [ 205 J 
 
Paderewski 
 
 less of faction, appeared to be willing to rally. It 
 was a great achievement, a triumph of person- 
 ality, a tribute to, as well as an evidence of, the 
 faith of a people in the unselfish patriotism of a 
 national leader, which they confirmed later by 
 choosing him to be the premier of the new gov- 
 ernment. What others, certainly more experi- 
 enced than he in public affairs and credited with 
 greater political shrewdness, failed to accomplish, 
 Mr. Paderewski accomplished. His success in 
 thus harmonizing the Polish factions gave him at 
 once a preeminence in the councils of his nation 
 which other governments were quick to perceive 
 and to respect. 
 
 From the time that Mr. Paderewski assumed 
 a commanding position in the affairs of Poland 
 my early impression of him began to change. I 
 realized that I had failed to appreciate his innate 
 genius for political leadership which proved to 
 be so effective in circumstances that would have 
 tried the sagacity of a man long in public life. 
 Raw amateur though he was in politics — and I 
 mean no disrespect in so characterizing him — 
 nearly everything that he said and nearly every- 
 thing that he did seemed to be the right thing. 
 lie made few mistakes and he never seemed to 
 
 [ 20G J 
 
Paderewski 
 
 be in doubt as to the course which he should 
 take. He was wonderfully resourceful and ap- 
 parently had an instinctive sense of the possible 
 and the practicable. He held his imagination in 
 leash as he did his emotions. He was not carried 
 away with extravagant hopes or unrealizable 
 dreams. His views were essentially sane and 
 logical. 
 
 If I had needed further proofs to induce me to 
 revise my impression of the Polish leader who 
 had done so much for his country in connection 
 with the Polish movement in the United States, 
 where his patriotic fervor was a constant in- 
 spiration to his countrymen, his subsequent 
 conduct in Warsaw and Paris would have been 
 all-sufficient for that purpose. Without change 
 in the simplicity and frankness of his nature or 
 in his unaffected geniality, he showed a poise of 
 character in dealing with subjects vital to the 
 future of Poland, a conservative judgment, and 
 a calm and unexcitable manner of discussing 
 matters of difference, which gave weight to his 
 words and added greatly to his influence as a 
 negotiator. 
 
 The highly developed artistic nature of Mr. 
 Paderewski seemed to be a very weak foundation 
 [ 207 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 on which to build the career of a statesman. It 
 appeared incongruous, almost fantastic, to con- 
 sider it as a possibility. One faced with the 
 amazing fact would, not without reason, declare 
 it to be impossible for a man, whose years up to 
 middle age had been devoted to the developing 
 and perfecting of his ability as a musician, to be- 
 come without other preparation a public official 
 who could effectively take part in the affairs of 
 state. That was, I know, a common judgment 
 concerning Mr. Paderewski's sudden entrance 
 into public life. It was declared openly and 
 frequently. But the judgment was wrong. He 
 abandoned his music, which had been his very 
 life, and threw himself into the work of politics 
 with the same ardor and devotion that he had 
 shown in following the impulses of his incompar- 
 able genius. As thousands had applauded his 
 mastery of harmony, so thousands came to ap- 
 plaud the intensity of his patriotism and the 
 sacrificial spirit with which he laid down his 
 beloved music for the cause of his country. 
 
 How fitting it was that Mr. Paderewski should 
 be the one to sign, in behalf of Poland, the treaty 
 that broke the shackles which she had worn so 
 long and which proclaimed to all the world that 
 
 [ 208 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 Polish independence was an accomplished fact. 
 Imagine, if you can, the thoughts and emotions 
 of the eminent Pole as he advanced to the table 
 in the center of the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles 
 and affixed his signature to the document that 
 bore witness to the triumph of the cause to which 
 he had given his all. The 28th of June, 1919, was 
 a great day to the delegates of the assembled 
 nations, but it was the greatest in the life of 
 Ignace Paderewski. 
 
 What Mr. Paderewski has done for Poland 
 will cause eternal gratitude. What he gave up 
 for Poland will cause widespread regret. His re- 
 sponse to the cry of his country suffering in the 
 throes of its rebirth is one of the finest examples 
 of true patriotism that an historian has ever had 
 the privilege to chronicle. His career is one which 
 deserves to be remembered not only by his coun- 
 trymen, for whom he did so much, but by every 
 man, to whom love of country and loyalty to a 
 great cause stand forth as the noblest attributes 
 of human character. 
 
 As I review in my mind all the circumstances, 
 I think that it was natural that my first impres- 
 sion of Mr. Paderewski was that which I have 
 attempted to describe and that this impression 
 
 [ 209 J 
 
Paderewski 
 
 faded and disappeared as time and events dis- 
 closed, in place of Paderewski the great artist, 
 Paderewski the great statesman of Poland. It is 
 this second impression that lives. The first is an 
 almost forgotten memory. I can to-day think of 
 Mr. Paderewski only as the zealous advocate of 
 Polish independence, as the sagacious statesman, 
 as the tactful negotiator, and as the unselfish 
 public servant who sought only the welfare of his 
 country and of its people. It is a fortunate nation, 
 indeed, which can claim such a man among its 
 sons, and he is a fortunate man who can leave to 
 posterity such a memory of generous service. 
 
 In giving one's impressions of a personality 
 such as I have endeavored to portray, it is 
 difficult not to speak in superlatives. Every- 
 thing about Mr. Paderewski and his career 
 invites the superlative form of expression. The 
 beauty of his character, the fineness of his 
 sentiments, the loftiness of his ideals, and the 
 sensitiveness and modesty of his nature, con- 
 stitute the highest impulses that control human 
 conduct. A man possessing these qualities — 
 and Mr. Paderewski has shown that he possesses 
 them — exercises a deep influence on his fellow- 
 men, deeper than he himself can ever realize. 
 
 [ 210 ] 
 
Paderewski 
 
 Though this recitation of Mr. Paderewski'g 
 characteristics may seem to some to give him too 
 fulsome praise and to exaggerate his virtues and 
 attainments, I would not be candidly expressing 
 my views if I said less. His personality through 
 intimate association excited a sympathetic in- 
 terest which, it is fair to presume, gave color to 
 the impression that it made on my mind. That 
 may be and, I believe, ought to be admitted. 
 But in spite of the favorable interest thus created 
 I do not think that it affected the estimate of Mr. 
 Paderewski's character by unduly magnifying 
 his talents and achievements or by minimizing 
 his faults and failures. An unjustifiable impres- 
 sion, as a rule, grows weaker through continued 
 intercourse with a man and through a fuller 
 knowledge of his intellectuality and his spiritual 
 nature. There was no such experience in the 
 case of the later impression made upon me by 
 this Polish leader. It did not grow weaker; it 
 grew stronger as events justified it and as ac- 
 quaintance gave me a clearer insight into his 
 motives and aims. 
 
 In addition to the attraction of his personality 
 there was an increasing admiration and respect 
 for the man as a leader of public thought and as 
 
 [211 1 
 
Paderewski 
 
 a diplomat who would not resort to deceit or 
 intrigue in seeking to obtain his ends, however 
 laudable those ends might be or however strong 
 the temptation to use any means to attain them. 
 Honesty of means as well as honesty of purpose 
 was evident in his conduct as a negotiator. If he 
 misstated a fact, one felt instinctively that it was 
 the result of incomplete knowledge or erroneous 
 information, and was not an intentional sup- 
 pression or perversion of the truth. Confidence 
 in his integrity was the natural consequence of ac- 
 quaintance and intercourse with Mr. Paderewski, 
 and it was the universality of this confidence 
 that made him so influential with the delegates 
 to the Peace Conference. 
 
 What I have written is the impression which 
 the Prime Minister of the Polish Republic made 
 upon me during our association at Paris and the 
 way that that impression grew and developed in 
 spite of views based on preconceived ideas of his 
 capacity and talents. It has not been as difficult 
 to analyze this change of thought as it has been 
 to account for the radical change in the life and 
 activities of Ignace Jan Paderewski himself. S 
 
 < 
 
 unnatural a conversion of aesthetic genius into 
 a genius for statecraft without going through a 
 
 [ 212 1 
 
 ,JUN 
 
 15 \^5 
 
Paderewski 
 
 gradual process of transformation seems to be an 
 anomaly which defies a satisfactory explanation. 
 That it took place is a fact, an extraordinary 
 fact, that must be accepted for the simple reason 
 that it is fact. In history as in memory the?e 
 will always live two Paderewskis, Paderewski 
 the master of music, and Paderewski the states- 
 man of Poland. 
 
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