The following day I arrived in New York, being met in Jersey City by a committee headed by the celebrated lawyer, John B. Stanchfield; Clarence Mackay, Herbert Swope (whose splendid articles in the New York World were the first warnings to America and other countries respecting the ruthless submarine warfare), United States Marshal Thomas D. McCarthy, State Senator Foley, James J. Hoey,—a faithful trio of good friends who saw me off for Denmark only a few months before. I was escorted to the City Hall where I was welcomed by the Mayor. In a speech on the steps of the City Hall I said:
"We are standing to-day very near the brink of war, but I want to assure you that if we should be drawn into the conflict it will be only after our President has exhausted every means consistent with upholding the honour and dignity of the United States to keep us from war. I left Berlin with a clear conscience, because I felt that during all my stay there I had omitted nothing to make for friendly relations and peace between the two nations.
"I am very glad to-day to see on the list of this Reception Committee the names of people of German descent. It is but natural that citizens of German descent in the beginning of the war should have had a sentimental feeling toward Germany, that they should have looked back through rose-coloured glasses on that land which, however, they left because they did not have equality of opportunity. We read to-day in the newspapers for the first time that there is a prospect that after the war the Germans will be given an equal share in their own government. I believe that in our hour of trial we can rely upon the loyalty of our citizens of German descent, and if they would follow me I would not be afraid to go out with a regiment of them and without any fear of being shot from behind.
"The nation that stands opposite to us to-day has probably no less than 12,000,000 men under arms. I have seen the Germans take more prisoners in one afternoon than there are men in the entire United States Army.
"Does it not seem to you ridiculous that the two States of New York and New Jersey should have more chauffeurs in them than there are soldiers in our army? My companions from the Twelfth Regiment that have honoured me by coming here to-day, and more men like them throughout the country, have done what they can. But they can't do it all. There must be a public sentiment if we are to maintain ourselves as a nation. If we had a million men under arms to-day we should not be near the edge of war.
"Gentlemen, I have tried in Berlin to be, as the Mayor has told you, an American Ambassador, and I thank you because you, an audience of patriotic Americans, by your presence here set your seal of approval upon my conduct during the last two and a half years."
I have never been able to understand why so many people did not sooner realise what Kaiserism meant for us. But now, at last, the nation understands that we must fight on until this menace of military autocracy has vanished and that not until then will the world enjoy a lasting peace.
Almost as soon as I was settled in New York I was drafted. Drafted by a public curiosity which insisted on knowing something about Germany and the war.
And so for me began a new life—that of a public speaker—I spoke first in New York at a lunch at the Chamber of Commerce—war had not then been declared and I was compelled to be careful—for even then there seemed a fear of Germany, a foolish desire to surrender all manhood to a fat neutrality.