He was eloquent in his agreement, told me how devoted he was to the French people; and added that he felt quite sure the misunderstandings would gradually pass away.
After signing and giving me a facsimile copy of the message which he had delivered at the close of the Washington Conference, we parted.
I went to the Rock Creek Cemetery with my cousin, Nan Tennant, to see the Adams tomb by St. Gaudens. It is a great work, and clutches at your heart. I sat for some time on the circular marble seat and looked at the beautiful bronze statue. It reminded me of the lines in Richard II:
"Oh! but they say the tongues of dying men
Enforce attention, like deep harmony."
Although the hooded and austere figure takes you far away from all that moves, and is an emblem of Death, the deep and pitying eyes speak to those who will listen both of Love and of Hope. I thought as I looked at it, what a transfiguring effect a statue like that might have, could it be removed to Paris or Berlin.
In the afternoon I visited ex-President Wilson. His wife greeted me with kindness and affection, and immediately showed me into the library where her husband was sitting erect upon a chair near the bookshelves. His eye was bright, his mind clear, and no one looking at his distinguished face could have imagined that he was ill. I could not conceal my emotion when I told him how often we had thought of him. He seemed hopeful about himself, and said he had still much to do, as there was a stern fight in front of him. He asked me if I did not think things were looking better for my husband and "your great party"; adding how closely, and with what hope he and others were watching the present political situation in England. I told him that he had had the one fine idea, and that all the world was fumbling to follow in its track; adding that the League of Nations was applauded upon every Liberal platform. He made me promise to go and see him on my return to Washington, and after a short conversation about nothing in particular, the fear of tiring him made me get up and say good-bye.
I went on to the French Embassy where I spent over an hour with my old friend M. Jusserand. I found him very unhappy: and when he discussed with frankness and without exaggeration the feelings that were animating Paris, I thought he made out an excellent case for what appears, for the moment, to be a lack of reason in his compatriots. He showed me what Lord Lee had said on Naval Limitation in December at Washington, where he misquoted from Captain Castex's French articles on submarine warfare, actually omitting from the context "ainsi raisonnent les Allemands", which surprised me very much.
I said I was quite sure that there had been some mistake, and that our Admiralty would instantly offer a public apology if the affair could be brought to their notice; he said that on January 7 the Quai d'Orsay had explained, but that nothing further had passed. That in the same article of which Lord Lee had reversed the meaning, Captain Castex had made pointed allusion "au rôle de salubrité politique, sauvant la liberté du monde, joué par la Grande Bretagne pendant la guerre".
I told him that we were too far away to know what was happening, and that it was more than probable that Lord Lee had already apologised; that it was a deplorable blunder as the desire of the French to increase their submarines was understood by the average Englishman to be a menace against Great Britain, as presumably his country would never fight Germany on the sea.
He said that every nation would have to maintain for itself some reserve of force since they had agreed to a large diminution of their armies. I begged him to be patient, and to remember that the 1918 election—so painfully encouraging to the natural desire on the part of the French to pursue a policy of revenge—was not a true reflection of British public opinion; that perhaps we were lacking in imagination but we would never believe in crushing a defeated foe, or trying to keep him down forever. That since no one could get rid of the German race, and France had to remain their neighbour, it appeared to be more sensible to try and discourage hate which was unproductive; and that there was little choice for them unless their intention was to prepare slowly and steadily for another war. He disclaimed all idea of revenge, pointing out that we were an island without frontiers, and that twice within the recollection of one generation their industrious and arrogant neighbour had not only killed their people, but laid waste their territory, and added that he and his compatriots did not feel their moral and financial sufferings had been treated either with sufficient sympathy or justice.