My Two Countries

by Viscountess Nancy Witcher Langhorne Astor Astor

IT’S a wonderful thing to feel that you in Plymouth, who gave me my first chance of public service, should be here to-night to thank me for any small service I may have rendered. I know that there are some here who never wanted to give me the chance, some who fought against my getting the chance, but that makes it all the more splendid and generous of them to come to-night. I hope that they will realise that, whenever a really big chance comes, the Member from this glorious old town will strive to do what is right, without party prejudice or partial affection. That’s what I tried to do in America. I never did half as well as I should have liked, but at least I did the best I knew how.

My American trip will always remain a mystery to me. A mystery and an inspiration. As you know, I never went out on a mission; I was not quite so egotistical as that. I went to speak to the League of Women Voters. They asked me, and I realised that, being Virginian born and a British M. P., I might be able to explain to them a little some of the outstanding characteristics of the British. I could stand before them as an emblem of British Justice. You all must know that a certain section of the Irish in America (and only a section—many of the Irish-Americans are among the best and most highly respected citizens) have made hatred of England not only a plank in their religious teachings, which is the greatest of all crimes (for it is a crime to teach hate in the name of God who is Love), but they have also made it a political issue. They are highly organised, and not a silent body by any means. They have grossly misrepresented England, but I think they have over-rated their powers. To hear them talk you would think that England was a monster of greed and injustice. Their propaganda is subtle, but it is not really convincing. I think it is killing itself. It is a poor thing to preach hatred and it is almost suicidal to nourish it. It is a losing doctrine and is bound to lose, if God is true and God is love. I am not afraid of those who preach hate—be it class, national, or international, for I believe that hate is a blind force, and that the truth about everything finally works through, though it takes time. This to me is one of the fundamental facts of civilisation. We are slowly but surely progressing nearer and nearer reality.

However, that is not what I came here to talk about. I am here to try to tell you of my trip. In the first two speeches I made, I spoke of England—her high ideals and desire to help the whole world. I spoke of the common bond between America and Great Britain, that bond I believe to be a common purpose of Peace on earth and good-will toward all men. I reminded them of what a great part the British Navy had played in making what civilisation we have. I don’t believe that any other country in the world but England or America, with the greatest navy in the world, would have used it always for purposes of peace. I’ll admit that before America was settled the navy under Drake was not exactly a missionary society, and yet it did missionary work, and made it possible for English ideals to go forth and spread the whole world over. I told them with as much pride as though I, personally, had bidden godspeed to Francis Drake and seen that his powder was dry.

I should remind you that Drake is as much a part of Virginian history as of England’s.

I spoke of the League of Nations, and how it could never be a real League without America, and that America’s greatness would never be true unless she helped the whole world; in fact, I just spoke out. I would have understood had they said: “This woman talks too freely; we don’t want to hear any more of what she has got to say.” I would have understood that; but they didn’t do that. After my first two speeches we got wires from all over America, from all kinds of associations and people asking us to speak—business men, Chambers of Commerce, colleges, etc.—that’s the wonderful part of the whole thing. I dared speak of England and the League of Nations, and of the pity that America should not be in, and they still wanted to hear. I have always felt that not only are America’s laws Anglo-Saxon, but her ideals are Anglo-Saxon, and I have always felt, too, that until people from other countries brought better laws and higher ideals than my forefathers carried from this country, that those laws and those ideals would be accepted, and would govern and guide all those millions of people from other nations who came to America. For the sake of humanity, one would wish America to accept better laws and better ideals if she could find them. I don’t think she has found them yet. She may have improved them, but the background and bedrock are the same. Virginia did improve them, and I was reminded in Canada that Nova Scotia got her laws from the Virginians, who had improved them to suit a young country, and from these laws a great nation is springing. Let no one forget America’s greatness. She is very young compared to the Old World. She may seem precocious—young people generally are—but she cares about real things, and her heart is as big as her territory. Ask any one who goes there, and they nearly all tell the same story of generous hospitality and a great sense of friendliness. I, being American born of only stout Anglo-Saxon forefathers, would naturally always love the real America, but this time I loved her more than ever, for I saw that my thoughts about her were right, and I loved her for letting me speak of England—how she had suffered, how she fought, and how hopeless she was at ever speaking of herself. I told them that perhaps some of her greatness lay in her reticence. When you do right, you can afford to be reticent. It is only people who are doing wrong who need to be continually talking. I knew that though ten Englishmen were being killed in the war for every two overseas men, to read the papers one would have thought that only the overseas men were fighting. So much was it so, that the German-Americans tried to use it as a proof of England’s selfishness. She saved her own men, they said, and sent the overseas men into the worst places. You and I and the men themselves know better. It was England’s dauntless chivalry which made her give first place in her accounts of the battles to her gallant sons who came so far to help her.

Then I tried to tell them what English women did—how they bore it all; and just worked and smiled and helped their sons when they came from America. You here in Plymouth know all about that, for you did it so well. You bound many a Yankee with your West Country kindliness. They won’t forget. I went back and reminded them that English Kings found out in 1214 at Runnymede what the Kaiser only discovered in 1918. I reminded them that long before they set sail to settle America, Englishmen were fighting for freedom. They let me say all this, and they listened and were very kind.

And so we travelled far and wide, the two Plymouth M. P.’s of the Upper and Lower Houses. The Member of the Upper House was a far greater success than the member of the Lower House. They were slightly prepared for my democratic outlook, but they were totally unprepared for his. Imagine their surprise when they found him more progressive and democratic than most of the people that they saw about them.

Before I leave America, I must tell you that my welcome in Virginia was best of all—Virginia, England’s first child and my first home. All I can tell you here at Plymouth about Virginia is this: I got a Plymouth man a job in Virginia, and I saw him when I got back home and he said: “Lady Astor, you are right about Virginia. I didn’t feel a bit away from Devon here. It’s just like home.” And so I feel about Plymouth. It, too, to me is just like home. There’s the same sort of naturalness about Virginians as there is about Devonians. We both have fine traditions, and perhaps we are both a little slow. The rest of the countries may pick out many faults in us, but they can also pick out many pages of history that would not have been written without us.

We went from New York to Baltimore, Washington, Philadelphia, Virginia, then Chicago—a wonderful place—and everywhere we found a great spirit of hope. It really seems a land of hope. Then we went to Canada. Everyone in Canada was kind, from the Prime Minister down, and most of my friends were down. They appeared all along the railway on the train from Ottawa to Montreal. When I was trying to rest a bit I heard at a wayside station two familiar voices—“Hurry up and come out, Mrs. Astor, we’ve come a long way to see you.” There they were—two of the Canadian soldiers from the Hospital at Cliveden. Virginia and Canada did give me a very personal kind of welcome; so much so that I can’t really speak of it, but I told them I realised that in thanking me, they were just thanking all the women of England who had worked so hard for their sons.

Now I don’t want you to think that we took this trip for any personal purpose; that wouldn’t have been worth while, and yet it turned out to be for a purpose—a purpose far above anything so small as a personality—things we believed in, not what we had attained. But we saw we had a chance to speak the kind of things that would unite, and we took it; and I firmly believe that some day we shall see the British Empire and America not bound together by any treaty—they may never sign any agreement—that won’t matter, but seeing things as they saw them at Washington. There are so many people in these two countries who are working for what is greater than all nations—Civilisation based on Christianity. I know you may look around and say we have very little civilisation and even less Christianity; yet we have a nucleus, a leaven perhaps, and some day it will leaven the whole. You may rightly say bitter things about America not coming into the League of Nations—no more bitter things than I heard some Americans say. I can’t pretend to say that America will come into this League of Nations. I am no prophet; but I would stake my very life that some day and some hour America will come into some sort of League of Peace—not to protect herself, but to protect the peace of the world. I know that there are hundreds and thousands of men and women in America who are striving for what is best and right in civic, national, and international life. There are people in all countries with vision, and they keep the rest from perishing. America is no more a mere country of business men than England is a nation of shop-keepers. We do business and we keep shops, but we don’t end there. That’s only where we begin. The countries who taunt us with that find, when there’s famine in the world, American business men and English shop-keepers are the first to help.