"IT seems as though some great event beyond the power of man has happened, something that in its influence surpasses events hitherto known----"

Such were the words used by the distinguished Premier, Alexandre Ribot, patriarch in appearance as in deeds, before the Chamber of Deputies on April 5, 1917, at the reading of President Wilson's Declaration of War against the Central Powers.

Surely no one reading this great message could help feeling that it was a masterly exposition not alone of the President's views, but of the opinions of the American people to such a degree of unanimity as perhaps never before had been manifested on any important public question.

I felt sure that the strength of the opposition would be absolutely negligible in both the Senate and the House. The very patience and deliberation that the President had shown in dealing with these momentous problems but added strength to the cause which he had so splendidly espoused.

As for France, I had taken the occasion, at a public function in Paris some time before,(1) to say that she needed no propaganda in America to advance her cause. The heroic conduct of her soldiers, the fortitude and spirit of sacrifice exhibited by her people in suffering the loss of their sons, and the cruel and barbarous despoiling of their homes by an invading enemy, had in themselves furnished most eloquent testimony of the justice of the undying principles for which she was fighting.

Hence the President's message gave me the greatest personal satisfaction. France and America were again brothers in arms for the defence of humanity and the liberty of mankind.

The scene at the Chamber was historic and lacked nothing in the elements of the dramatic to make an unforgettable impression upon the minds of all those in attendance. That the Government might on such a memorable occasion---and no event of more far-reaching importance had occurred since the beginning of the war---manifest its gratitude to the United States, I had been especially invited to be present in the Diplomatic Gallery.

Just as the hands of the clock reached the appointed hour, the doors at the right of the Chamber were swung open and the members commenced to file through in small groups. It took but a few moments for the entire body---or at least all those who could be present---to occupy their seats. Here and there, in keeping with the custom established at the very beginning of the war, were the wreaths placed on the desks of members whose vacant chairs told the story of their sacrifice for their country.

The session was opened, and a few moments later the tall form of Premier Ribot, bent at the shoulders just as the storms of years might bend the oak, rose and, mounting the steps of the rostrum, delivered a speech, nearly every sentence of which was punctuated by rapturous applause, on this occasion joined in by every member of the Chamber. Only on one or two other occasions have I seen this repeated, one of them being when President Wilson was accorded the unusual privilege of addressing the Chamber at the time of his first visit to Paris.

As my presence in the Chamber at that moment furnished the only visible means by which the members on the floor below me could render their homage to the United States, the entire membership, rising as by one impulse upon the mention of the name of America by the distinguished Premier, turned toward the diplomatic gallery where I was sitting. Again and again they bowed and cheered. This manifestation was repeated a number of times during the Speaker's discourse.

It was indeed the culmination of a time to which all France had looked in eager, and often yearning, expectancy for nearly two years. A people, not slow to evince their emotions of pleasure and of gratitude, gave vent in the following few days to an unrestrained joy over the turn of events. The masterly manner in which President Wilson had set forth the issues at stake was appreciated by men and women whose natural aptitude and innate ability to comprehend every shade in the manner and use of words are unsurpassed.

Some two weeks later, April 22, a reception was tendered to me by the Municipality of Paris at the Hôtel de Ville in honour of America's entrance into the war, the beautiful Salle des Fêtes of the City Council being used as the audience chamber. Admittance was gained only by invitation, which comprised a number of members of the American Colony as well as many high officials of the Government, including the Premier, M. Ribot.

Outside the building, however, an enormous concourse of people had gathered. In fact, all the way from the Embassy residence on the Avenue d'Eylau, more than two miles away, great crowds of cheering people, numbering no less than one hundred thousand, lined the streets leading to the Hôtel de Ville.

Telegram from Ambassador Sharp to the State Department.

Paris, April 23, 1917.

 . . . . Yesterday the city of Paris held most impressive ceremonies.

The programme consisted of a reception at the American Embassy of Jules Cambon, Secretary-General of the Foreign Office, General Dubail, Military Governor of Paris, together with a committee of distinguished citizens in both the civil and official life of Paris. Afterwards a procession was formed which made its way to the statue of George Washington in the Place d'Iéna, at which place a great throng of people witnessed the laying of a wreath of bronze at the foot of the statue. An eloquent speech was made by Senator Strauss, and the singing of the Marseillaise and the Star Spangled Banner concluded the ceremony. The American flag was hoisted from the mast at the pinnacle of the Eiffel Tower in plain view of the crowd, and aeroplanes circled above the scene waving the French and American flags. It is said that it is the first time the American flag has ever been placed on the Tower.

The Committee then proceeded along avenues densely thronged with people to the Place du Carrousel where, at the foot of the Lafayette monument, similar ceremonies were observed. From here the Committee proceeded to the Hôtel de Ville, where it was received by the Municipal Council promptly at three o'clock in the beautiful Salle des Fêtes. The official ceremonies of the day were then formally held in the presence of a distinguished assembly of French citizens, as well as many prominent in the American Colony. M. Alexandre Ribot, President of the Council, Minister for Foreign Affairs, also honoured the occasion with his presence.

Eloquent speeches were made by M. Adrien Mithouard, President of the Municipal Council of Paris, M, Henri Rousselle, President of the Council General of the Seine, M. E. Laurent, Prefect of Police, M. Marcel Delauney,(2) Prefect of the Seine, all expressive of the highest praise and the most generous sentiments toward the United States and their warm appreciation of its powerful alliance with France and her Allies. Their words were especially eulogistic of President Wilson, and his distinguished services in behalf of the cause of humanity. To these speeches I made brief response.

Everywhere the greatest enthusiasm prevailed and an immense concourse of people remained in front of the square facing the Hôtel de Ville until the departure of those participating in the ceremony, when continuous cheers of "Vive l'Amérique," "Vive la Grande République," went up from the throng in the densely packed streets for a long distance leading therefrom.

Clear skies greatly contributed to the success of this manifestation and added charm to the thousands of waving flags of the Allies, among which that of America was most conspicuous.

Taken altogether, it was a most touching exhibition of real joy of the people of Paris and their heartfelt goodwill toward America.

SHARP.

One could not but be impressed with the sincerity of those who spoke on that occasion. There seemed to be a completeness of understanding of the spirit of the American people toward the issues of the war which came from more than a mere reading of it. Perhaps the appreciation of the real meaning of the sacrifices which they themselves had been called upon to make and endure for so long a time, and in such a terrible measure of its exaction, enabled them the better to understand.

My Military Attaché, Captain---afterwards Colonel---Boyd, was sitting by my side as we rode through the throng. Turning to me he said: "Have you noticed the expression on the faces of these good people? Realizing as I do what it all means to them, the question involuntarily comes to my mind, 'Can we do all that they expect of us?' A new desire comes to me that they may not be disappointed."

"Yes," I replied to the Captain. "I presume that there is not one out of ten of those who thus show their feelings to our country but who has lost some relative at the front." Even at that stage of the war there had been campaigns waged in which in single efforts, involving but a few days of intensive struggle, tens of thousands of young men had given up their lives for the cause.

From that day on, continuing throughout the war, there were many similar opportunities afforded in great gatherings to attest the joy of the French people over the entrance of America into the war. There was, for instance, General Pershing's arrival in Paris, the ride to the Hôtel Crillon, the tremendous crowds that poured out to acclaim him. But in point of enthusiasm and certainly in size of the demonstration, such ovations were not to reach their climax until December of the following year, with the long-heralded event of President Wilson's arrival in Paris.

Soon after our formal declaration of war, I was directed by the State Department to proceed to the Ministry of Finance, to discuss the form of a loan or credit in the United States that would be most helpful to the French Government during the period of the next six months.

The Minister of Finance, M. Joseph Thierry, being absent from the city, I had an audience with the Premier, M. Ribot, who had been Minister of Finance in several previous Ministries.(3) He was therefore presumably as well qualified to speak of the financial needs of his Government as any other man in France. For many months prior to our own entrance into the war, this statesman had been grappling with the great problems of meeting the financial burden imposed upon his country.

Until that time, owing to our neutrality, we could not advance a dollar to the cause.(4) One may therefore well imagine the welcome that was accorded to me on that day when, sitting near him at the desk, I first made known to him the desire and intention of our Government to come forward and assist France in meeting such grave problems at the moment when the succour was the most welcome.

The splendid spirit evinced by our own Government, being indeed in accordance with that which characterized all its actions during all the months to follow, evidently made a strong impression upon the Premier. He expressed very great appreciation of this tender of help on the part of our Government.

In accordance with custom, I made it clear to the Premier that though information was desired as to the probable extent to which the credit to be given would be employed in the purchase of supplies in the United States, it must not be at all implied that the granting of such a loan would be in any way conditional upon such expenditures in our country, but was only desired as it would have a bearing upon the method of financing.

When I said that I was sure that the sentiment of my countrymen would endorse this action of their Government's, emulating the example which France had set more than one hundred and thirty years before as evinced in the Treaty of King Louis and our own Franklin, in which the King of France had signified that, if necessary, interest items on prior loans need not be paid by the new Republic across the water, the Premier, thanking me for the expression of such a sentiment, replied: "That is a very generous thought, but my country would accept no favours that it would not agree to pay for. It wants no gifts." He went on to state to me that personally he hoped no resolution would be introduced or debated on the floor of Congress looking to making a gift on the part of our Government to France, though his countrymen might appreciate the sentiment of good will which would prompt it.

This did not deter me, however, from making to my Government at Washington a recommendation to render free from payments, for a period of a given term of years, the interests on France's obligation. I said in substance:

"In view of the action of France in the agreements entered into by Franklin representing our country in the time of our own distress in the years 1782 to 1783, it would, however, if I am permitted to make this suggestion, seem a most generous and gracious thing to do if such an arrangement is feasible, in making a loan to France at this time, to provide that no interest shall accrue or be payable on such loan for the duration of the war and for a limited number of years thereafter."

In the course of this conversation, Premier Ribot had said to me: "I am not prepared to tell you to-day what sums will be needed, nor in what kind of instalments. That is a matter which I will take up with the Minister of Finance and let you know as soon as possible." Later, he gave me a statement showing that the needs amounted to $218,000,000 a month for the next six months(5) to pay foreign countries for the requirements of the French Government.

The money, soon thereafter advanced by the United States Government to France, would have been considered very large in ordinary times, but was increased by successive loans until it exceeded three billions of dollars.(6)

But it was not alone credit, welcome as it was, that France and her Allies needed from the United States. She must have men to take the place of the two million and more of the Allied soldiers on the West Front who had either been killed or hopelessly maimed. With Russia out of the struggle, America was the only hope of such aid.

Everyone had realized that the falling away of Russia from the Allied cause had been a very serious disaster, one that might eventually portend even defeat for the Allies.(7) Happily the accession of the new American Ally, with resources so potential in their might, served to discount the danger from the East.

Interesting details, showing the extent of America's effort, were soon after given me by my friend Congressman Henry T. Rainey, of Illinois, as follows:

Congressman Rainey to Ambassador Sharp.

House of Representatives,            
Washington, D. C.        
September 10, 1917.

MY DEAR MR. SHARP,

We passed through the House September 6 the Emergency Bond Bill---eleven billion dollars in bonds and certificates---the greatest financial transaction in the history of nations. I assisted in drawing the bill. It passed the House without the slightest change except one unimportant change to which the Committee agreed, and it passed unanimously. This indicates that the United States is commencing to think as a unit on the subject of the great war in which we are engaged. The Emergency War Renewal Bill which will carry $2,500,000,000 will pass the Senate to-day. We will be able to quickly agree in conference on them. I will be one of the conferees. We will be collecting this year in taxes, direct or indirect, in all probability, over four billion dollars in addition to the bond issues, which will amount to probably fourteen billion dollars.

The streets of our cities are filled with the new National Army undergoing intensive training. The entire country is united and we are prepared for much larger contributions of men during each year of this war. We expect a long war and are preparing for it. We all know when it will end---it will end when we win it.

Very truly yours,                     
HENRY T. RAINEY.(8)

Two missions of an important nature started from France on their way to the United States soon after America had entered into the war at the side of the Allies.

A military mission, for the purpose of discussing the technical organization of our overseas forces, was headed by M. René Viviani as Vice-President of the French Council of Ministers, accompanied by Marshal Joffre.(9)

Secretary Lansing to Ambassador Sharp.

Washington,            
April 12, 8 P.M., 1917.

AMERICAN EMBASSY,
          PARIS.

Please inform the Foreign office that this Government is deeply gratified to learn of the proposed visit of Viviani, Marshal Joffre and the distinguished party that will accompany them. We should be glad if it were possible for them to arrive at Hampton Roads where they will be met by representatives of this Government and escorted to Washington. It is understood that the party can remain in the United States only ten or twelve days. It is earnestly hoped during this time they will consent to be the guests of the nation. The American people will understand and appreciate the honor done them by the visit of these illustrious Frenchmen who have contributed so largely to the cause which we have now made our own. The welcome of this Government will be merely an expression of the admiration and affection of the entire American people. Cable reply.

LANSING.

At that time there had been some suggestion of our sending a small expeditionary force of volunteers to participate actively in the operations. But this plan was not viewed with favour by Marshal Joffre, who regarded America as the future reservoir of men for the Allies and considered nothing should stand in the way of a thorough organization to make the best of our vast resources.

I have been told that he carried with him no instructions from the French Government, but worked out on the steamer the project he soon after submitted in Washington for raising, training, and equipping an army, if necessary, of several million men.

It was on the Decoration Day following, very soon after his return from that trip, that he came to the Embassy to present his respects.

During his hour's visit at my home, he recounted the many interesting incidents of his journey through the United States. He told me that, while his party had expected to be received as friends and Allies, yet the very spontaneity of the welcome that was accorded on every side quite overcame them. They were treated, he added, as enfants de la Patrie. In our talk at that time, the Marshal told me with no little display of satisfaction, how when he was in Washington, Mr. Henry White,(10) formerly Ambassador to France and later a member of the American Peace Mission, at whose home he was staying, had arranged to entertain various opponents of conscription at little dinner parties to which he had been invited. After dinner, the Marshal, being questioned by them as to the necessity of this measure, had given them his views in such a manner as quite to convert them.

The second mission, of a largely industrial nature bearing upon the prosecution of the war from the point of view of co-ordination in supplies and transportation problems generally, was headed by M. André Tardieu,(11) one of the ablest and best informed men of France upon all economic questions. He was in a position to acquaint our Government with the most pressing needs of the situation as it existed. In a long talk with him before he left, I told him that I knew no better way to carry out to the fullest extent his task than to have completely at his disposition information upon every need of France. I assured him that he had but to ask to receive, in so far as our ability would permit.

In a letter which I addressed to the President, I discussed the general needs of France, notably in facilities for the transportation of cargoes of freight as they arrived at the different ports, where congestion was much complained of. I had had occasion a number of times to visit both Bordeaux and Havre, and I knew there was lack of modern appliances for unloading ships as well as for storing the goods afterwards. I said:

Ambassador Sharp to President Wilson,

Paris, May 5, 1917.

MY DEAR MR. PRESIDENT,

It is my belief that a Commission composed in part at least of men experienced in the operations of hoisting apparatus and the construction of docks, the building of warehouses, etc., would quickly be of very great service in bringing about improvements in those directions.

A Frenchman of wide knowledge of industrial conditions recently admitted to me that his people were woefully deficient in organization when it came to handling big industrial problems.

Naturally, also, the demands upon the railways in the transportation of troops, munitions, etc., and the shortage of men, have greatly depleted railway equipment, thereby adding considerably to the difficulties of quick transportation. Materials, particularly of the nature of locomotive engines, freight cars, hoisting apparatus, travelling cranes, and for warehouses are greatly needed.

This would, of course, have a very direct bearing upon not only the prosecution of the war but upon the supplying of necessary foodstuffs itself. No better illustration could be given of its effect upon some of the economic conditions existing during the past winter, through this lack of transportation facilities, than to point to the very great scarcity of coal, and its consequent increase in price, approximating at times $60 per ton.

France presents an example of a united front and unity of action such as, I am sure, is not to be met with in any other belligerent country.

But it is sore distressed and bleeding, the exhaustion is very great---much greater than the world knows---for no other of her Allies has suffered such a drain in men and resources. What undoubtedly Marshal Joffre and M. Viviani have already told you as to the heartening effect which the presence of American troops on French soil would exert is completely representative of the sentiment everywhere existing among the French people.

As a concluding observation, may I express the hope that our people at home may come quickly to realize that the success of their co-operation in this war depends upon the rendering of the greatest and promptest kind of assistance to the Allied Powers. Germany must no longer be permitted to "break the sticks of the bundle " one by one until all formidable opposition has melted away.

The offensive of the French troops alone last week resulted in the loss to them of more than 90,000 men,(12) one-third of whom I understand were killed; the loss to the German forces was even greater. Horrible as all this is to contemplate, and great as are these losses, yet the ending of the war even by such attrition is far removed. The cry of France is for men ---more men. With a loss in killed of a million and a-quarter of men, and an equal number of prisoners and seriously crippled, France needs active men for ploughing the fields quite as much as she needs them at the front, and to-day a French general told me that a new supply of men was needed in the overworked munition factories quite as much as they were in the trenches.

In the meantime, the work of drawing the teeth of the enemy submarines and, at the same time, of shutting off outside supplies of food from that enemy, is most assuredly the outstanding feature of our task.

With high personal respect and best wishes,                                     
I am, believe me, my dear Mr. President,                 
Most cordially yours,                 
WM. G. SHARP.

General Pershing had landed on the shores of France June 13.

Though the announcement of his intended arrival had been made known through the Press of Paris only a few hours before his coming, yet the streets along the line of the procession from the Gare du Nord to the Hotel Crillon became one mass of wildly enthusiastic people. Every window from the big store fronts below, up to those on the mansarde roofs, was filled with people waving handkerchiefs. At the station were waiting a number of Government officials, including M. Martin, Chief of the Protocol, representing the President of the Republic, and M. Painlevé, Minister of War.

My first acquaintance with General Pershing began when I beheld a man lightly swinging off from the steps of the car in which he had come down from Calais. The impression I then formed of his promptness and resolution abode with me as the accurate one, through all the trying months to follow, in the course of long interviews we had in my library, the Red Room I have previously mentioned. There he would discuss the impatience of the French to have his troops get into action, and the complaints against the inevitable slowness of their coming.

More than two thousand prominent residents of Paris, embracing all nationalities, came to the reception I gave for General Pershing and his staff, on that fourth of July, the first following America's entrance in the war. That afternoon a great concourse of people, completely choking the Avenue d'Eylau, had gathered in front of the Embassy to catch a glimpse of the General. Wishing to gratify their desire, I asked him to step out on the balcony leading from the reception salon on the second floor. There, standing between the large French and American flags which I had placed above the shield bearing the coat of arms of the United States, he received a great ovation.

It is true that scarcely a thousand of these uniformed men from another land had as yet come to the side of fighting France,(13) but the significance of it all was that they had come. Everybody knew what it meant---the augury of such an historic scene. As I stood among my diplomatic colleagues who had come to participate in the ceremonies, conspicuous among them being the British Ambassador, it seemed to me as though after the flight of seven centuries the very spirit of the Crusades had been reincarnated into an actual living being.(14) From an even greater distance than the followers of Richard the Lion-Hearted had journeyed, carrying their swords to the Holy Land, had many of these soldiers come from lands across the sea which had then been undiscovered, to fight a battle of right. Soon, too, the very spirit of these Crusades was to take possession of millions of other soldiers from America's shores. What matter if our first contingents were incompletely trained and lonesome strangers in a far-off land? What matter, too, if one of those boys, weary of his long voyage and unacclimated, fell in a faint from the ranks of his comrades as they marched to the Lafayette ceremonies at Picpus Cemetery? Indeed, it was General Pershing himself who, some time later, referring to the scene, laughingly said to me: "Yes, the boys looked and marched all right, but I cannot tell what would have happened if more had been required of them."

But the world knows now the marvellous potentiality that lay in those very men.

Ambassador Sharp to President Wilson.

Paris, August 24, 1917.

MY DEAR MR. PRESIDENT:

Although there has occurred nothing that is startlingly important or out of the ordinary course of events since the arrival of the American troops, yet I have thought, at this time when the actual participation of our forces at the front may soon commence, that I might well give you some of the conclusions which have been forced upon me.

My letter also may serve the purpose of correcting certain false impressions as to conditions affecting the morale of the French people, which I believe grow out of too much generalizing from wholly exceptional incidents. At the outset---in one sentence, may I say to you that America need have no concern as to the steadfast loyalty, co-operation, and fixedness of purpose of France to "stand by her guns" ; enormous losses of men and destruction of property have much weakened her strength, but have not lessened her courage, nor faith in her cause.

Perhaps I may sum up the general situation here by saying that, in all but the satisfaction which decided military successes could give from marked material advances, the conditions here are as favorable as could be expected, after such a supreme and long-endured test as France has stood in the face of such a powerful enemy. If there were strong grounds for the hope that the aggressive attacks of the Allies on the Western Front would, before the end of many months, result in ridding French soil from that enemy, one might indeed well feel free from any sense of concern.

It is true that from time to time Socialistic agitators have, by making a noise, sought to disturb the public confidence in the stability of the Government, and to weaken the purpose of prosecuting the war to a finish(15) also that the influences of such movements have resulted at times in fomenting labor troubles, causing strikes in munition factories and some disaffection among the troops---though in this latter case undoubtedly other causes had much to do with inciting mutinous conduct. All this manifestation was at its height about two months ago. At the time, the influence of German money was suspected, and the presence of pro-German instigators from Spain and elsewhere was well known. Since then, proof positive has been secured of the use of German money to corrupt one of the French journals, which was loudest in its denunciation of the Government and the prosecution of the war, and the arrest of the editor and his suicide in prison are events of the last few days.(16)

Speaking with M. Viviani, Minister of justice, while this agitation was at its height, he told me that it possessed no weight or influence, and that such agitation---to use his own simile---was like the waves of the ocean that, while more or less constantly in action, generally found their level, and the efforts of the advanced Socialistic elements in France would subside because there was no intelligent public sentiment at the back of them.

Certainly everyone---even those not so friendly to the Government---is perfectly willing to agree that general conditions, as they affect not alone the morale of the people but their attitude toward the Government, have much improved during the past few weeks. Undoubtedly the opportune arrival of the American troops under General Pershing had a splendid effect in helping to bring about this result. Arriving as they did, just at the height of this agitation and following the disappointment growing out of the lack of success in the big offensive movement, with heavy losses to the French troops, and especially the gloom succeeding the Russian defection, this event was psychological.

As to the feeling toward the Government itself, it is quite generally predicted that there will be a radical change in the Ministry upon the reassembling of Parliament in the Fall, and according to prevalent opinion, M, Painlevé, the present Minister of War, will take M. Ribot's place as President of the Council.(17)

Happily, despite all jealousies, there has been a remarkable unanimity on the part of Parliament, the Ministry, and the more enlightened class of the people, in favor of prosecuting the war to a successful conclusion, and all factions vie with each other in their patriotic devotion to the country.

However, much could be written of rumors given more or less currency affecting this or that man's public acts, supposed intrigues to displace this or that General, and even the members of the Government themselves are quite free to express their opinion of the lack of wisdom of this or that public measure. But I suppose such conditions are, after all, only the evidence that human nature is working pretty much in the normal way.

I may say for your encouragement that it is my firm conviction that neither the Government, Army, nor people of France will shrink from continuing to face with the utmost courage and unanimity the problems which this war imposes. The Press of Paris, as well as of the entire country, voices this unanimity in defence of a common cause in such a manner, I am sure, as has never been witnessed in the Press of our country. The intervention of the United States in the war has done more than merely give the French people encouragement, it has been accepted by them as the absolutely necessary factor to the success of the Allies. I have myself for a long time past shared that same opinion. A stalemate would have otherwise resulted.

This observation brings me quite appropriately to the second part of my letter, which I will devote to some of my own conclusions growing out of the methods employed by the opposing forces on both land and sea, for I have some strong convictions which, instead of being shaken by all the events that have preceded, have only confirmed me in their accuracy---if I may be pardoned for expressing such conceit.

In a letter which I wrote to you at the beginning of the year,(18) I took occasion to refer to the three chief factors which up to that time had resulted in prolonging the war and which gave promise of continuing it indefinitely, unless one or more of them were modified or wiped out altogether. These were: first, the equality in men and resources of the two contending forces ; second, the resort to trench fighting ; third, the use of the aeroplane, rendering surprise movements by either side practically impossible.

Without going into the consideration of the manner in which they have operated to bring about this result, I can only say that at the end of three years of almost constant activity, particularly on the Western Front, these same conditions are still present and all-important; so much so that if I did not believe that there was a way of overcoming this impasse, created especially by the trench system of warfare, I would become very pessimistic as to the prospect.

Even the augmentation though critically necessary, of several hundred thousand of our own brave boys fighting at the front in those trenches cannot result for a considerable time in doing more than maintain the equilibrium for the Allies. For unhappily, their poor bodies are not any more immune from bursting shells than those of their French and British brothers who fight by their side; and, as it has been almost from the start a machine war, personal valor, dash, and skill have not counted so much as in previous wars. If the first and second line of trenches of the enemy have been taken, it is only to know that back of the third yet to be taken are endless series of other trenches with their barbed wire entangling barriers.

Under past and present methods of waging this war on land, I long ago came to the conclusion that only the practical giving out of Germany's raw material for guns and ammunitions would cause her early defeat. Fortunately, there seems to be some reliable evidence of her serious need in that respect. The food situation in that country, from what I can learn, does not seem to be now any more acute than a year ago, with the harvests of the autumn to tide them over into another year. The line of those trenches cannot, then, be materially changed---though all advances are bound to be in favor of the Allies.

In making this statement, I am aware that the news of the past week or two---not only coming from the Italian Front but also from Verdun, from the French attacks, and from the North of France from the British advance---has been very encouraging, and a considerable number of prisoners have been taken; yet, it is only perhaps from the latter direction, where the British troops are staking everything in a mighty assault on a scale not before attempted in the war, that there seems to be a prospect of material and permanent results.

In this connection Lord Murray told me a fortnight ago that some of his friends, Generals in the British Army, had just informed him while he was at the front that it was to be a supreme test as to whether, with an unprecedented amount of ammunition at their back and the biggest guns, they could force the Germans back and across Belgium; the particular object being to recover Ostend and Zeebrugge, two of the important bases of the German submarines. He said that six or seven weeks of such campaigning must decide the issue for this year's offensive.

But out of it all there is, in my judgment, a way to inflict such damage upon the German forces as to make it impossible for them to retain their ground. This is pre-eminently through an overwhelming superiority and mastery of the aerial arm of warfare, and nothing has given me more satisfaction than to learn through the despatches during the past few weeks that America has come at last to realize this fact. Could the Allies at this time have 10,000 additional armed aeroplanes, with expert pilots on the Western Front---20,000 would prove still more decisive---I would look for a débâcle amounting to almost a collapse of the opposition, resulting in rapid and marked advances on the part of our forces.

What would follow such a pronounced advantage in our aeroplane strength is too obvious to need any elaboration. This, then, is clearly the most important duty of our Government, and with our abundance of steam power and factory output we ought soon to furnish to our Allies this needed support. The chronicle of every day's fighting emphasizes its importance.

In the same way, though of different application in its use, aircraft can be used to great advantage in naval warfare. It is with the rather vain satisfaction which comes to the man who can say "I told you so" that I recalled to Admiral Cleaves, when he was recently in Paris, my statement made in a speech in Congress five years ago on the first day of this month,(19) upon the future use of the aeroplanes that the cost of one modern battleship would be enough to construct a thousand hydroplanes and he said to me that he would be very glad indeed to trade off one of our battleships for such an aerial fleet.

While Admiral Jellicoe, at the recent Inter-Allied Conference held in this city, expressed to me the greatest appreciation for the efficient help of our cruisers over on this side of the water in protecting the merchant vessels, yet I believe that if the war is to continue well into another year, our American Naval genius will find a way in which to overcome the serious menace caused by the submarine---not merely by convoying ships and protecting them from attack, but in the more effective way of destroying them at their source of egress, or at least preventing them leaving their base. Ingenuity, boldness, and dash---which qualities I am forced to believe the British Navy, with all its superiority in ships, has greatly lacked---will be brought to bear on the problem.(20)

*      *      *      *      *      *      *

In my intercourse with all my diplomatic colleagues it has been a source of exceeding gratification to me to note the unmeasured confidence which they place in the unselfish purpose of America, and the wisdom and strength with which you have set forth her position.

With high personal respect,                               
I am, dear Mr. President,                     
Very sincerely yours,            
WM. G. SHARP.

The Peace Note addressed by Pope Benedict XV to the Belligerent Powers on August 1, 1917, had been unfavourably received. The chief reasons given for the attitude of the French Government were that the Pope in no way recognized the difference, from a moral standpoint, between the aggressor and those who had been so grievously wronged, and that to accept a peace on the general terms proposed by the Pope would be to allow an enemy to remain substantially in full possession of his power and resources, which would offer the temptation, at an opportune moment, to renew hostilities against the weakened countries of the smaller and less powerful Allies. The fact that so much was left unsaid in the appeal, as to defining and confirming the rights of these smaller Powers, also condemned it.

At the Foreign Office I was told that a telegram had been received from the French Ambassador at Petrograd to the effect that Tereschenko, the Russian Premier, had just announced to him his disapproval of the communication of the Pope, and had referred to it in most bitter terms.

The opinion was expressed that the overture was chiefly made through the solicitation of the Austro-Hungarian Government. The Emperor and Empress, being devoted Catholics, naturally felt an additional interest in having the Pope make an intercession, in addition to the fact that the very serious economic conditions of the country were well known. The opinion was further expressed that the German Government would never offer any definite terms of peace until forced by arms to do so but that, consistent with its practice in the past, it would seek to draw out expressions from the Allied Powers, from which course it might gain some possible advantages.

President Wilson's able reply in date of August 29, 1917, therefore exactly met the situation in accordance with the desires of the Allies.(21)

It has been my firm conviction that Germany missed her greatest opportunity to win the war by not striking earlier before the American troops began to land in great numbers. Had the impetuosity and surprising advances of the German forces, made in the Spring of 1918, occurred six months earlier, it is more than likely that a different story of the war would have had to be told. At least Germany would have put herself in such a position of advantage as to make her defeat much more difficult and of much more prolonged effort. Even eight months after our entrance into the war, only a small proportion of those we had landed on French soil were sufficiently trained for actual fighting.

It would almost seem that those in high authority in Germany and in control of her army really believed that America's entrance into the war was not of great importance. And yet, before the last and desperate Spring attacks of the German army had been made, we were already sending upwards of 250,000 men each month---a number which, great as it was, steadily increased in the months to follow. But these attacks, attended as the first few were by sensational gains of territory, had already begun to encounter a new force---our own matchless American troops which distinguished themselves with such undying heroism at Château-Thierry, as also at Soissons, at St. Mihiel, and in the forests of Argonne. I have heard from the lips of no less an authority than Marshal Foch himself that they were necessary to win the war.

It was General Pershing who said to me, some weeks before my leaving Paris, that he could not have our American boys return home with any other thought in their mind than that, with all due praise to the valour of their associates in arms, the French soldiers---and there are no better---and their British brothers, it was to their own valour as well that the winning of the war was due.

FEW on our side of the water, in those critical days, came to realize how close the danger was to Paris. Not at any time within the entire four years following the retreat of the Germans over the battlefield of the Marne, was the enemy at his nearest point of approach more distant from Paris than sixty miles in a bee-line. On a number of occasions, even long after his nearest approach in the early days of September, 1914, he was but little more than half that distance away.

During many months of the war the reproach of Clemenceau, as a member of the Opposition, uttered in criticism of existing war Ministries, that " Noyon is still in the hands of the enemy," became famous. And yet Noyon is not distant from Paris more than an eighty-minutes ride in a motor-car. The armies of Germany were still forming a mighty wedge with its apex pointing to Paris. But the valour of the Allied armies had kept the invading horde away from the capital, along the line of an arc extending in approximately equal distances from Rheims, westerly through Noyon, to Ham.

From back of these lines came often successive nightly raids over Paris from the powerful German air-craft. Later, the amazing achievement of sending over into the city deadly shells, from long-range cannon located upwards of seventy-five miles away, was to startle the world.

While volumes of printed matter have appeared in American papers descriptive of great battles and minor military engagements, yet perhaps less has been made public of these attacks on Paris, both at night and by day, from these two engines of war. The reason is obvious. The censorship, never probably more justified than in such cases, not only prevented more than the merest mention of air-raids and long distance bombardments being made in the Paris Press, but the dissemination of such knowledge abroad by more than the briefest mention was also prohibited. The enemy must not know of the success of his attacks; he must not know to what extent he inflicted damage either to property or life, neither must he learn what particular part of the city was stricken.(1)

The Embassy was kept informed of the truth through the courtesy of the Government, yet the people themselves were permitted to know only the visitation of such attacks as came in their immediate vicinity. For many months Paris was to all intents and purposes in the firing line of battle, though not actually in the front trenches. Only a remarkably active and skilful plan of defensive barrage firing, inaugurated by the military authorities, saved the city from far greater loss of life, and perhaps from destruction of property through conflagrations that would have been appalling.

Particularly deplorable was the raid of German aeroplanes on Thursday night, January 31, 1918, in which approximately fifty were killed and upwards of two hundred wounded. This being the first air-raid over Paris for a long time, people had begun to look upon the city as being quite immune from such danger. The damage to property, the loss of life, exceeded those of any previous raid by Zeppelins or aeroplanes.

The Paris Press was unanimous in not only bitterly denouncing such murderous warfare upon an unfortified place, but the feeling was voiced that such attacks would serve to give new strength and determination to France to carry the war into Germany.

As long as I live I shall never forget the warning alarm sounded by the sirens throughout the city, usually indicating from fifteen minutes to half an hour in advance the approach of these nightships of death. Only the frequency of their visits served in time to rob them of the terror which might otherwise have been inspired. Indeed, familiarity with such dangers came to breed the proverbial contempt for them. But that it was a contempt often born of imprudence, the long list of fatalities to those who lingered in the streets or in open doorways, or who persisted in refusing to leave top-story apartments, amply proved. While appeals of warning appearing in the Press gave repeated instructions to the people as to what precautions to take after the alarm was sounded, yet they were only too often unheeded.

The siren call quite generally was the signal for a hasty retreat on the part of the prudent to the thousands of "abris" ---basements or cellars of residences---throughout the city. This means of safety was systematized to such an extent that, adjoining all outside entrance-ways to retreats recommended because of their safety were posted placards showing the number of people they would accommodate. Even under such stress of enforced imprisonment and danger, human nature asserted itself in providing for amusements of various kinds, including a liberal supply of gramophones and the irrepressible joker.

That the enemy had in contemplation a much more destructive plan, to be put into execution through these nightly air raids, seems to admit of no doubt. More powerful machines capable of carrying greater-sized bombs were being constructed. The feelings which Lord Reading, in a speech on one occasion, so graphically described as existing among the people of London, who breathed a sigh of relief at the coming of cloudy and stormy nights as the only safe protection from these murderous air-raids, had their counterpart in Paris.

The most beautiful moonlight nights, indeed, came to be looked upon with a feeling of the gravest concern. Rarely, if ever, were such nights free from the aerial raids of the enemy. Time and again I have seen, from the large windows of my sleeping apartment facing the north-east, the most brilliant pyrotechnic display from exploding shells of the barrage fire from a hundred guns, accompanied by the signal light of our Allied machines, rivalling at times in brilliancy an electric headlight of a railway locomotive. Strange, weird beyond description amidst the roar of cannon, were those never-to-be-forgotten scenes. Now and then a heavier and more earthshaking detonation would be heard, and I knew that that sound came not from cannon, but from one of the great explosive bombs dropped from some German machine at great height. I knew also that the chances were at that instant largely in favour of some building being in whole or in part destroyed, with its occupants writhing in the pains of death. As many as sixty hostile bombing machines have come over Paris in a single night. While a few never returned to the German lines, yet a large percentage of them did, unfortunately, leaving behind them a trail of destruction and death. Within fifteen minutes of such raids, I have seen the horizon lighted up for miles about with the great conflagrations caused by the explosion of inflammatory bombs.

But great as was this method of destruction by night, by far the gravest concern, if not the most real danger, was caused by the shells of the long range guns---or "Big Berthas," as they came to be called.

Clearly one of the most unique incidents which occurred, during a war so crammed full of strange situations, was the sudden appearance in the midst of the Parisians of this new instrument of death, even if it did not lead to any considerable events from a military point of view. Very much as though some strange visitation from the planet Mars, bringing death in its pathway, had suddenly intruded upon the streets of the city, fell the first shell of this great German gun. People were stupefied at what, in its very suddenness and the terror of its work, only differed from some horrible apparition in that it could not be seen. By those who later at different times happened to be very near the places where these shells fell, it was stated that there was not the slightest sound made by them in passing through the air. They simply dropped from space like some huge meteorite, without its warning trail of light, which had been charged with the highest explosives that the science of man could invent. Such testimony would certainly seem to be borne out in part by the shape of the shell, which had a much-elongated funnelled nose, equal in length to half of that of the entire shell.

On that momentous twenty-third of March, explosions as of bombs of unusual size were heard in Paris at frequent and fairly regular intervals, from about eight o'clock in the morning until about the middle of the afternoon. Certain lines of the trainways stopped and many stores were closed. The general explanation was that German air-raids were in progress over Paris by daylight, for the first time since the beginning of the war. The bombs dropped in different parts of the city were reckoned at thirty at least, there being a number of killed and wounded.

The explanation was given in a communiqué published at 5 p.m. by Le Temps, among other papers. I telegraphed to Washington as follows:

Ambassador Sharp to the State Department.

March 23, 1918.

The following remarkable official communication appeared in the Paris Press of this evening: "The enemy has fired on Paris with a long-distance gun, since eight this morning, every quarter of an hour, and forty shells have reached the capital and suburbs. There are ten dead and about fifteen wounded. Means to combat the enemy gun are in the course of execution."

Below this official communication in brackets follows this comment: "Let us add to the official explanation which has just been read, that the shortest distance from the front to Paris is more than one hundred kilometers."

As I am dictating this telegram, a night raid is again in progress. If this official communication states the truth, it would appear undoubtedly that the German aeroplanes seen at a great height over Paris to-day were for observation purposes to see the effect of the firing of the big gun and to determine the accuracy of its range. Also if the communication is accurate it marks the events of this day in warfare among the most remarkable and interesting that have occurred since the beginning of the war, and puts the south coast of England within easy range of similar big guns that may be located near Ostend.

While the whole thing seems incredible, yet the War Office confirms the fact that the shells were fired by a great gun located at Crépy, fully 120 kilometers from here or over 75 miles. The War Office states further that it has been known for some time past that emplacements were being built there for some kind of gun.

SHARP.

There were many indeed who believed, for some hours after those shells first began to fall, that they came from cunningly concealed positions of the enemy at not more than twenty or twenty-five miles from the city. Just how and by what assumption they came to be located fully forty miles within the known line of the nearest enemy trenches, they did not attempt to explain. It is safe to say, however, of such people that horrible thoughts of underground tunnels, ingeniously constructed by Germans, and, even worse yet, a traitorous betrayal of confidence, must have taken possession of them. Indeed, in a conversation with me at dinner, the night of the first day of this new kind of bombardment, one French gentleman, who had been entrusted by the Government with important duties connected with the "camouflage" service, ridiculed the idea that it could come from guns located upwards of seventy-five miles away. "Such a thing is impossible!" he exclaimed with much vehemence. He was sure that the shells had been fired from concealed positions comparatively near the city.

Another belief, quite as current as it was unfounded, was that invisible aeroplanes or other aircraft had dropped bombs upon the city from a great height. Indeed, by many this was at first accepted as an almost necessary conclusion, so astounding was the theory that these messengers of death, coming in the form of high explosive shells of several hundred pounds in weight, could be fired by any cannon, however great the calibre, from a distance of four score miles. And yet the skies were unusually clear that day, and no semblance of any aircraft was seen.

Having in mind the results of the longest range guns heretofore known to even the most modern conceptions of ballistic theories, the record of range being multiplied nearly three times was something too far beyond the average mind to conceive. Of course, as was to be expected, there were not those lacking to come forward almost immediately and assert that, after all, there was nothing in this achievement beyond the possibilities already known to science. One was complacently told that given a gun large enough, with a sufficient charge of high explosives, the proper form of rifling, and a certain shape of projectile, there was really nothing remarkable about it; an assurance, under the circumstances, more enlightening than comforting.

There would seem to be little doubt that the faith of the Germans in being able to cast terror among the people of Paris, thus impairing their morale for resistance, was quite as great as their exultation over springing such a surprise upon their Allied foes. But their hopes were as though built on shifting sands. Aged men, women, and children were mangled, bleeding, and dying there in numbers who, but a moment before, had been in the full enjoyment of life. But the continuance of such scenes served only to intensify the feelings of abhorrence among the people of an unfortified city so exposed to indiscriminate slaughter. It all only tended to steel their determination not to yield. That, however, a feeling of depression pervaded the city, not lessened by the belief in the probability of a more intensive long-distance bombardment by the emplacement of many additional guns, cannot be denied. With these shells dropping through the day, and night raids by bombing aeroplanes, the enemy, during those critical months from March to July, 1918, was surely resorting to his last desperate means for forcing France to capitulate through a demoralization of her people.

Their repetition at regular and frequent intervals soon awakened the Paris population to the fact that they had a new element of danger against which it was impossible to offer any resistance, unless in some manner the means were forthcoming to destroy the guns themselves.

That at least one or two of them---for it is doubtful if more than a half-dozen of such long-range guns were used by the enemy---were destroyed or put out of commission by Allied airmen seems to be certain. For the next four months, however, this new terror had to be reckoned with.

When this intensive bombarding, in the manner I have described, had brought the populace again face to face with a peril which their remaining in the city could in no way mitigate, there began again an evacuation by great numbers of women and children, as in the early days of the war. This movement was given impetus by the success of the first and second advance of the German Armies when they again, by the degree of their successes, seriously threatened the ability of the Allied troops to hold Paris. How great was the concern at that time, the outside world knew but little. Indeed, the greatest secrecy as to the Government's plans was maintained by those in authority, lest an unwarranted panic should take possession of the populace.

Just what political advantages might also be grasped by those in opposition to the Government was another thing to be reckoned with. To add to the danger, for months there had been rumours of intrigue, and even treason. Men of one-time prominence in the Government were under suspicion. Others had already been arrested. But for the fixedness of faith in the ultimate strength of the Allied coalition, that anxiety would have resulted, at this crucial hour, in dismay bordering on panic. But somehow, from the man in the street up to the highest official of the Government, there was a faith, deeply implanted, that the power that would be opposed to the enemy, should he seek to make the final lap in his advance, would be all-sufficient. That was before Château-Thierry. After that epochal event, everybody knew that the enemy's greatest effort to reach Paris had irretrievably failed. The initial effort of America's might had at last been brought into play. I have wondered whether the full significance of this fact was perceived first by our Allies or by the enemy.

At no time during the war were there displayed in a more favourable light the poise and stability of those in the French Government. They were constantly prepared to meet every emergency.

While the crisis was most acute, I cabled to the State Department as follows:

"I would say on the whole that the morale of the people is all that could be desired. It is indeed incredible that a hostile force of not less than 500,000 men massed in one sector but forty miles away on a restricted battlefront, desperately seeking to break through to attain the goal, the result of which they must believe would win the war, excites so little alarm. The confidence which the people have come to repose in the strategy of General Foch explains this, as do also the bravery of his soldiers and the crowning element of confidence in the splendidly demonstrated valor of the American fighters, used so effectually within the past fortnight to help block the passes to Paris. I may not be stating it too strongly when I say that it has come to be a settled conviction that these are the factors in this war against which the Germans can never prevail."

During the most critical of these days, as I was the Dean of the Diplomatic Corps, a number of my colleagues came to consult me as to the best course to pursue. I learned that the British Embassy, some days before, had taken occasion to warn all British subjects living in Paris to leave the city as soon as possible. The citizens of neutral countries alone felt any degree of immunity from harm in case of the taking of the city. But even they were powerless to escape in the event of active bombardment by the enemy. On more than one occasion, rumours were in circulation that the diplomatic representatives of these countries had been warned of an impending bombardment by the Germans. If so, I can vouch for the fact that the secret was well kept.

The responsibility placed upon me towards the Americans still sojourning in considerable numbers in Paris in such an emergency can be well imagined. It became a question how to pass the word to those whose services were not necessarily employed, in one way or another, in needed relief work. Manifestly, it would not do to give the slightest intimation through the Press, even if it would pass the censorship. Such action would tend to provoke a panic, and besides, serve to apprise the enemy of the state of feelings in the city. Neither did it seem advisable to send out personal letters to those American residents whose names and addresses we could ascertain.

At a time when no one knew what another hour might bring forth, I called in a number of prominent Americans connected with organizations of one kind or another, including both my Military and Naval Attachés. I laid before them the situation, and asked for suggestions as to the best way of informing our countrymen of the true situation. Tentative steps were at the same time taken to provide hotel accommodation in cities to the south for those who might, through limited time, be unable to secure them. One of my most capable aides, as he was also my much esteemed friend, was the late Lieutenant-Commander Chas. O. Maas, of the Naval staff of my Embassy. He had been a prominent member of the New York bar, and had left a lucrative practice to give his services to his country. Brave as a lion himself, he seemed, nevertheless, very greatly concerned over the fate that might await those Americans who tarried too long in Paris. Hardly a day passed without his coming to my office to tell me of the increasing need of getting notice to our people to leave the city. On one of these occasions he said:

"Mr. Ambassador, I suppose you have carefully weighed the chances of the Germans getting into Paris, but it seems to me no time should be lost in notifying our fellow-Americans to leave the city." Then followed a declaration which, understanding his big-heartedness and good will toward me as I did, I knew he disliked to make: "The British Ambassador, several days ago, caused notice to be sent out to every British subject in Paris to leave the city as soon as possible. I have heard that they have already chartered boats down the Seine to Havre."

Months afterwards he came into my office and, referring to the anxiety which he had felt in those days, he said: "I want to take off my hat to the coolest man in Paris, when so many about him seemed to have lost their heads."

It was a great sadness for me, a number of months after I had returned to America, to learn of the untimely death of Lieutenant-Commander Maas, from a sudden attack of pneumonia while in the midst of a most useful work in France. By direction of Secretary Daniels, his body was brought to America and buried in Arlington with all naval honours.

In a comprehensive account written for the Navy Department, giving the history of the Naval Attaché's work in Paris during the war, the Lieutenant-Commander has made a valuable contribution to the Government's archives, Referring to the grave situation confronting the Embassy in the most critical time resulting from the great German advances, he has written:

"The particularly critical period which marked the summer of 1918 was accentuated by the intensifying of the relations between the Ambassador and this office. When hundreds of thousands of people left the city of Paris in June of that year, when the city was being scorched every night by enemy air-raids and blistered every day by enemy shells, when the morale was growing lower and lower, when the French Government and the French banks had removed their important papers and securities, when it looked every day as if the siege of Paris was imminent, Ambassador Sharp at no moment lost his fine sense of the fitness of things, nor did he at any moment regard the situation except with the utmost confidence, and in the firm belief that the Germans would never desecrate with their presence this beautiful capital . . . . It is interesting to note how some Americans viewed the situation on the question of their departure, and particular reference is made to some of the ladies who were seen. Many of them insisted that the last thing they would do in all their lives would be to leave the city, as they would never care to look the world in the face again after having thus been branded as cowards. One elderly lady, whom the writer saw, refused to leave upon the ground that her canary-bird had just given birth to a young one and that it would be worse than murder to leave the mother and bird, even at this critical period."

At the height of the crisis, when it became apparent that the ensuing forty-eight hours might decide the fate of this last desperate attempt of the Germans to take Paris, Major Barclay Warburton, Military Attaché of the Embassy, came in to confer with me as to the best means for securing military motor-trucks to transport to a place of safety the records and other documents making up the archives of the Embassy.(2) The relations between the Embassy and General Pershing had always been such that every reasonable request had only to be made, to be granted. I told Major Warburton that I would be very pleased to lay his request before the General.

In making this promise, I had the purpose in mind to acquaint General Pershing with my own views of the situation, and to get his in return. While stating in my letter the possible need of action of the promptest kind, and seconding Major Warburton's request, yet I assured the General that my own personal opinion was that no such need would arise, as the Germans would never enter Paris. Within the briefest conceivable time, I received a very cordial reply from General Pershing, promising that in event of actual need of the camions, I had but to call for them to have them at my service. But best of all, I was pleased to receive from him the assurance that he concurred fully in my own views of the situation. At the same time, he fully approved of the precautions being taken by me.

Happily, an event transpired which gave the coveted opportunity of passing the word to many Americans living in Paris without creating any alarm, and free from any publicity. The Department of State had cabled that it was desirous of having a new register secured of all Americans sojourning in France. The primary object was to obtain a safeguard against the issuance of passports to suspicious persons. By thus giving public notice to all Americans to present themselves at the Passport Bureau, between certain hours on the specified days for the purpose of registration, an opportunity was afforded for the members of the staff to suggest diplomatically that, if there were no special reasons demanding their presence in Paris, it might be advisable, under the circumstances, to leave the city for a time. I had directed those whose duty it was to meet persons who came to register to allow them first to introduce the subject which would naturally be uppermost in the minds of everybody at that time---that of the wisdom of leaving the city. In the majority of cases, I learned afterwards that this very thing happened; most of the callers lost no time in raising the question themselves.

The intensified bombardment of the city, which was being carried on night and day, made it seem to many that a new advance by the enemy at any moment was not at all improbable. It should be remembered that nothing had as yet occurred to forecast a decisive check to his attacks. On the two previous advances, he had planted his positions well in front of those previously held by him. A third attack was known to be imminent ; everything seemed to point to its being directed toward Paris rather than Calais.

I have yet to recall a single instance where there was an attempt on the part of any American to misuse the knowledge imparted to him. Each visitor who came to the Passport Bureau was made to understand the gravity of the situation and the necessity for a calm attitude. It is true that now and then one was encountered whose presence in the city was perhaps the least needed of all, who, nevertheless, asserted his or her determination to stick it out to the last moment. Such people seemed unmindful of the fact that, if many others were of the same frame of mind, it would be impossible to find conveyances to take them from the city at a moment when hundreds of thousands would be seeking the same gates of egress. I was told on good authority that at one time as many as ten thousand trunks had accumulated in one of the great stations whose routes led to the south. Every outgoing train was crowded to the limit with passengers.

Already the Government had taken steps to remove from the city some of the most important war industries. Too late, the mistake had been realized of locating in Paris more than fifty per cent. of such factories. M. André Citroën, one of the proprietors of a great shell industry, told me that he had informed the Government, in answer to its question as to his ability to move his works, that it would require three thousand railway cars to transport the machinery alone. The time was so pressing that this would mean, he said, the necessity of placing at his disposal two hundred cars a day. Doubtless the same conditions existed among many other munition plants about the city.

Added to this concern was that caused by the tremendous explosion at La Courneuve, in the early afternoon of March 15, where great quantities of munitions had been stored. Two heavy concussions, one quickly following the other, had shaken the whole city. When I visited the scene the next day, it looked as though a cyclone had swept over nearly a square mile of territory, the buildings having caved in like so many eggshells. The loss of many lives and the complete destruction of the property had resulted. It was said that the careless dropping of hand grenades by some of the workmen had produced the detonation which had caused the catastrophe. But if this were true, what might not a series of bombs from an invading squadron of aeroplanes do over a great city, where many other such magazine stores and factories existed?

It was M. Loucheur,(3) at the time Minister of Armaments, who declared to me that such a condition ought never again to menace his country in time of war. I know from conversations with him that for weeks following the first advance of the enemy in the Spring of 1918 he had busily engaged himself in taking measures to remove quickly much of the valuable machinery in the munition plants about Paris. Tentative plans had also been made for the removal of important bureaus of the Government, and even the entire Government itself, if necessary, to the south of France. Clermont-Ferrand was the location most favourably looked upon if such action became imperative.

In a previous chapter,(4) I have told my readers of the unhappy scenes at the Louvre during the memorable days of the battle of the Marne. A duplication of such scenes was now, after four years, again taking place in some of the public buildings, and indeed in some of the finest private homes in Paris.

This condition was mournfully brought home to me on one occasion when, being ushered into one of the salons at the Foreign Office, I saw workmen in the act of taking down the great Gobelins tapestries which adorned the walls. I had been in those rooms a hundred times before, waiting sometimes a few minutes, and at other times longer, for an audience with the Minister for Foreign Affairs. I had come to look upon the scenes portrayed by those tapestries, of such exquisite workmanship, as something real and a part of my life in Paris. To this day I can recall with great minuteness those figures representative of French life of a hundred or more years ago. It seemed indeed as though something peculiarly precious to me was being taken out of my life, As I entered the room, neither M. Pichon nor I could refer to the incident; in itself it was all too plain an evidence of the concern which so heavily lay upon everybody's mind. Happily, with the turning of the fortunes of war in a few weeks I again saw these tapestries restored to their former place.

A more personal realization of the gravity of this crisis came when my landlord, M. Bartholoni, called at the Embassy to see if I would be willing to permit him to remove a few of the choicest of his paintings, that they might be taken to a place of greater safety. For some weeks following, in my own salons at the Embassy, there were large vacant gaps here and there on the walls, marking the places where had hung, in their pride, these splendid paintings, among others a Lawrence, a Boucher, and a Greuze,

At a time like this, one's thoughts involuntarily turned to those who from their environment would be most helpless in the face of such appalling dangers. The strong and resourceful could take care of themselves. But what of the children and the invalids who were in the position of being public charges?

It was for the need of such help that my attention was called one day to the hundred or more little children of the Orphelinat des Arts, housed in the environs of Paris under the protecting care of Madame Poilpot---one of God's noblest women. Some months before, in learning of the splendid work which she, though almost blind, was doing for these orphans of the war, I had made a visit with Mrs. Sharp to this interesting place.

It was to me, therefore, that Madame Poilpot's thoughts turned when the possibility of German occupation of Paris, aside from the constant menace from the bombardments by day and night, had reached their height. Quickly plans were made for the removal of the Orphelinat to the seashore. I arranged through American officers for the transportation of these little ones to the train which would take them to their place of safety. I am sure that never was a request of mine, always generously granted by our military officers, more cheerfully complied with than in this case.

Perhaps if one were to analyse the sense of awe, inspired by a feeling of dread rather than of fear, which the frequent visitation of the shells of the long-range guns produced, it would be found that in the unexpectedness and suddenness, as well as the uncertainty of the place of their fall, lay the greatest cause of apprehension. It is true that there was considerable regularity in the length of intervals between the firing when once it commenced, but at what hour would it be renewed, and in what section of the city would the next shell fall? Only their actual coming could tell. At first, a zone varying not greatly in width, covering but one section of the city and extending across the river from the Hotel de Ville, was the scene of operations. For a number of days, no spot in that ill-fated quarter was immune from these visits of death.

On one occasion, Mrs. Sharp and I had received invitations to a luncheon given by General and Mrs. Spears of the British Army. Their home was in the very centre of the bombarded district. As the guests assembled---for none would stay away because of such a trivial matter as the possibility of a German shell falling in their midst---probabilities as to when the next bombardment would open up were the subject of conversation.

On our return, I requested my chauffeur to stop at a place where one of these great shells had struck the day before, not far from the place where we had but just lunched. Fortunately, it was one of the few that had exacted no toll of death. Burying its fragments deep at the roots of a large tree, it gave but little evidence of the damage it had inflicted; only the fronts of buildings had been in places gouged out by the bursting fragments.

However, the everyday life of the people had to continue. Except for provision being made to remove school-children to safer localities, there was no interruption of the daily stream of people which thronged the streets. Everyone knew that if these shells could be fired at such a tremendous distance, so as to fall with considerable accuracy within a certain prescribed territory, other sections of the city could likewise be commanded. Such expectation was quickly to be realized.

Within a fortnight after the first series of shots had been fired, those residents living in the section of the city a mile or so to the westward, extending from the vicinity of the Arch of Triumph to the Trocadéro, were to receive their share of attention. In this quarter of the city both the American Embassy and the Chancery were located.

On more than one occasion during a day's bombardment, desiring to minimize the danger as much as possible, I would wait before leaving the Embassy until, hearing the familiar sound of the explosion, I knew a shell had struck somewhere. Knowing that it would be fifteen minutes before another would fall, I utilized this interval in getting to my office, making a practice of walking rather than riding when the weather would permit. As this required about nine or ten minutes, I usually had left some little margin between shells, so to speak.

On one morning after they had been falling at the usual interval of fifteen or twenty minutes, I received my closest call. Within a few minutes after I had reached the Chancery and had begun the work of the day, I heard a terrific explosion, so violent as to lead me to believe that it had occurred in the closest proximity---perhaps in the very building which our offices occupied. As a matter of fact, a portion of the shell had actually fallen at the curbing directly in front of my office, where a United States Marine stood on guard. Quickly going to the street below, I saw, on looking up the rue de Chaillot, on which the Chancery is located, a crowd of people hurrying along the street. The shell had fallen but a block away.

The harrowing scenes consequent upon the bursting of the shells were never mentioned in the Press, and the public never knew the number killed. One read, however, that after each one of such horrors, President Poincaré, and sometimes M. Clemenceau, would go on errands of mercy to visit the suffering at their homes and in the hospitals. But as I was walking along the narrow street that day I was for the first time brought face to face with the gruesomeness of the situation.

Along the sidewalk and crossing the street I saw aged men and women with little children, hurrying with blanched faces. There was the stillness of death, because indeed there was the reality of death in its most horrible form. Scarcely a word was uttered by those passing by. They seemed to be going away rather than toward the stricken place. Every window was broken in all the stories of the buildings located at the intersection of the two streets where the shell had fallen. Even the massive frames of the big store windows on the corners had been smashed in by the concussion. On the side of the street opposite me a coachman, wounded unto death, was being carried by four men. He had been driving along the street at that moment, and his horse had been disembowelled. Behind him I saw the sidewalk literally running with the blood of others, who had been similarly helped away from this scene of carnage. Among the unfortunates were British soldiers who had been instantly killed as they were passing by. The exact number of killed and wounded I was unable to learn. But that it was a repetition of the terrible experience attending the falling of a large majority of these long-range shells in other sections of the city was undoubtedly a fact. Later the same day, another of these huge missiles fell into a busy market place but three blocks away from my office. A number of women attending the stalls were killed and passers-by seriously injured.

One of my servants, walking in front of the Invalides, had seen two soldiers beheaded by one of these shells.

Many of those who, at the first approach of the enemy's bombing machines, fled to their basements, soon compromised with their fears by going down to the first floor of the buildings; then later to the second floor, finally contenting themselves by merely going to the windows of their apartments, and looking out from the top floor at the barrage fire of the Allied guns. The same was true later with the coming of the long-range shells. Yet the danger was always greatest, and the damage most severe, in the upper stories.

On one occasion, finding myself near the Hôtel de Ville just as a terrific explosion was heard from the other side of the river, I asked my chauffeur to proceed as rapidly as possible in the direction whence came the noise. A few minutes later I arrived near the spot where one of these shells had fallen. The street---the Boulevard St. Germain---was densely crowded with people who had been attracted by the explosion. All traffic had been suspended. At the point where the shell had struck, gas from a large main supplying the city was escaping with a great roar, the shell having broken it into many fragments. While the shell had fallen into such a busy thoroughfare, quite miraculously no one had been struck. Yet there was not one of the great throng that did not realize that at almost any moment another shell might strike within their very midst.

The bomb-throwers from the air were equally indiscriminate in their selection of places of attack throughout the city. No section was immune from their visits. That there was, however, a definite intent and purpose to destroy certain monuments as well as buildings, there can be no doubt. This was particularly true of the Ministry of War, where M. Clemenceau had his office. The Cathedral of Notre Dame had also been struck by an airman's bomb, and in the very earliest days of the war huge airships had tried to drop bombs upon the Arch of Triumph.

Social functions, such as the propriety of the times permitted, were also sadly disturbed by the nightly air-raids.

One day in the midst of these attacks, I received the following carte pneumatique from my colleague M. Dorn Y de Alsua, Minister from Ecuador:

Minister Dorn Y de Alsua to Ambassador Sharp.

Paris, March 24, 1918.

The Minister of Ecuador presents his warmest compliments to his Excellency, the Ambassador of the United States of America, and begs him to accept his excuse in not having come to the meeting arranged for yesterday at 3.30. He was at the gare du Nord, and because of the bombardment was not able to find any means of locomotion. He is very annoyed and holds himself at the disposition of his Excellency, Mr. Sharp, for the day and the hour which may suit him.

No less valid was the excuse of my colleague Mr. Matsui, the Japanese Ambassador, who within the week following wrote me in his own hand, in excellent English:

Ambassador Matsui to Ambassador Sharp.

7 avenue Hoche,
30th March, 1918.

DEAR MR. AMBASSADOR:

When I wrote to you the other day for the luncheon at this Embassy, I did not expect the great event now occurring at the front. But now in view of the great anxiety which everybody feels in regard to the outcome of the pending struggle, I do not think it possible to have a pleasant gathering and if you and Mrs. Sharp will kindly permit me to do so, I want to put off the luncheon for some other better occasion. I have hesitated to write you before but I trust you will kindly understand my sentiment.

I remain,                  
              Yours very sincerely,
            K. MATSUI,

On one occasion, March 11, I had given a dinner in honour of the Prince of Monaco. A few minutes before the departure of my guests, the unwelcome sound of the alerte was heard. To leave the Embassy at that time was to take the chance of death in the streets, while even to remain in the large salons, where we were, was by no means free from danger. After waiting a few minutes, when the defensive barrage fire had gotten under full sway, my guests went down to the floor below, that the danger might be lessened as much as possible. The attack lasting an unusually long time, one guest after another took his departure, and with it his chance of getting safely home.

So full was each day's account of tragic events during this period of the war in particular, that nothing, however unusual in its every phase, seemed to startle Paris. The most notable exception to this. statement was the horror of Good Friday, the twenty-ninth day of March, 1918, at the church of St. Gervais, which was occasioned by a shot from one of the long-range guns. The loss in life was indeed so great, the circumstances so tragic, that, in addition, because of the sacred character of the day itself, I felt impelled, in giving an account of this event to the Department of State, to characterize it as the most destructive of any single shot that had been fired by the enemy during the war. It was at the same time most costly in consequences, for it had its echo throughout all Christendom. As the details of this horrible catastrophe came to be known, the list of the dead mounting to nearly one hundred, a wave of indignation and horror swept over the city.

Visiting the church with Mrs. Sharp as soon thereafter as we were permitted, I beheld a scene of wreckage such as would seem inconceivable for a single shell to cause. Striking at a point high in the vaulted roof near the front of the sacred edifice, an almost incredible displacement of the heavy stones of solid masonry, of which the columns and arches were constructed, had resulted. Many stones from this débris had fallen upon the heads of the congregation. The destruction of life was appalling, and the scene was that of a veritable shambles. Though all the bodies of the poor unfortunates had by that time been removed, yet in many places on the floor were blood stains of the innocent victims ; in places the gruesome sight of human brains could be seen. Rich and poor had gathered there that afternoon, not alone for purposes of worship, but also to hear the organ music for which the church was famed. Among those who lost their lives that day were a number of Americans. The full meaning of the horror was brought nearer to us because some of them at different times had been our guests at the Embassy. One of these, Madame Landon, was a niece of former Vice-President Levi P. Morton, who, in the early '80's, was American Minister to France.

The fact that the Counsellor of the Swiss Legation, M. Stroehlin, together with his wife, met their death at that time created a marked impression upon the public mind. He was not only in the diplomatic service of a neutral Power, but was then engaged in looking after German interests. Many years before, he had been a Secretary of the Swiss Legation at Washington. He was very popular in Paris, and his taking away in this cruel manner came as a great shock to those in diplomatic circles. So horrible indeed had been some of the circumstances connected with the death of M. and Madame Stroehlin, that not until many hours thereafter were the mangled remains of the wife discovered beneath a great pile of fallen stone.

On calling a day or two later upon my colleague, M. Dunant, the Swiss Minister, to express my sympathy, he voiced the greatest indignation at such an act. I am sure that in so doing he echoed the sentiment of not alone the Allied Powers, but of all neutrals. The answer of the German Government, that of necessity it could not direct its shots so as to avoid places of worship, contained in itself its own condemnation. The fruits of such a crime could only in the slightest and most indirect manner be of any military advantage.

A few days later, I attended, with my colleagues of the diplomatic corps, the funeral services of these distinguished victims in the Protestant church of the Oratoire. The President of the Republic and Madame Poincaré, and all the Ministers of the French Government, were present. At no similar service during the war had so many representatives of foreign Powers been gathered together. They came to voice by their presence their abhorrence of such methods of warfare, quite as much as to attest their sincere sorrow over the loss of a highly esteemed colleague. The very cause which brought them together united in a common sympathy, for that hour, neutral and Ally.

Similar manifestations of sympathy were made at the services in the rue de Berri Church, at which the pastor, the Reverend Chauncey Goodrich, feelingly spoke in memory of the Americans who had met their death in this sad manner. Some of them had been his own parishioners.

As reflective of the German mind upon this atrocity, one needs but to read comments of the German Press at that time. A few days after this occurrence, there were sent over to me from the Ministry of War, among other despatches taken from the German wireless station at Nauen, for I regularly received such messages, a quotation evidently for purposes of propaganda from one of the leading German papers. After having pointed out that Paris was a fortified camp of primary importance, it had stated:

"It is not bombarded with the object of frightening the civil population, but for military motives. When a fortified town is bombarded every quarter of an hour in the course of the operations of war by enemy artillery, and is thus exposed to damage which makes it necessary to make subterranean shelter for the population, and causes, according to the Parisian papers, the departure of thousands of the wealthier inhabitants, and the Government cannot make up its mind to divest the town of its military character, then it is criminal to allow a population of non-combatant inhabitants to remain in a city from which they cannot make up their minds to depart. When a Government through sheer obstinacy will not remove the seat of authority, and thus exposes the lives of neutral diplomats, it thereby assumes full responsibility for what occurs and should at least have sufficient decency not to make use of misfortunes brought about by its own fault for the purposes of propaganda."

A display of arrogance only equalled by the unfeeling absence of any regret for such a tragedy, even though the lives of her own friends were sacrificed in its toll!

It was my good fortune, a year later, to see the emplacement on which one of these huge guns had been erected. Returning in a military car from Rheims to Paris one afternoon, I learned that by making a slight détour, I could visit this interesting place on my way to Château-Thierry and Paris. While there were other similar emplacements on which these long-range guns had been erected, located a considerable distance apart, yet the one which I was now to see was the last which had been put into position. It was undoubtedly the one which had caused the damage to the section of Paris in which I lived, as that was the last part of the city subjected to its fire.

Cunningly placed at the edge of a forest, the site had been selected with the least inconvenience possible for the transportation of this mighty piece of armament. Along the standard gauge railway had been constructed a siding which required, at that particular point, an extension of but a few rods to carry it into the forest. At the end of this siding, and but a short distance from the highway on which I had left my motor, I beheld a remarkable sight.

The first impression was that of the ordinary railroad turntable placed in front of so many of our American railway "roundhouses." Everything was of massive steel construction. Upon the structure resembling the turntable had been placed a superstructure in which were many steel ball-bearings ; each ball had a diameter of about seven or eight inches. On this steel framework, standing to a height of several feet above the main platform, the mighty gun had been mounted. Unfortunately, those in charge of it had still sufficient time in which to carry the gun away before the final retreat of their forces. The removal, however, of the emplacement was a different matter. While an attempt had been made to dynamite it, judging from two or three heavy fractures of portions of the steel structure, yet it stood before me in practically all its original completeness. The diameter of the turntable, if such it may be called, was approximately thirty-six feet. The massiveness of the riveted steel work was so apparent that one could readily understand the strain which must have been placed upon it each time the gun was fired. It had naturally been pointed exactly in the direction of Paris, which from that point---considerably nearer than that for which another emplacement had been found in the forest of St. Gobain---was estimated to be between fifty-five and sixty miles distant in a bee-line.

Everywhere about the place was seen the thoroughness which characterized German preparation for military operations. Near the gun had been placed extensive underground passageways and apartments which might have accommodated a large staff of artillerymen. Steps from the surface led deep down to these quarters, and once they were gained there was perfect immunity from danger or harm. The utmost detail of the art of camouflage had been observed in concealing the location of the gun from Allied airmen. That even the small open space which had been rendered necessary in laying the track into the forest might be concealed as far as possible, trees with their mass of foliage had been cut down and then placed in holes which had been dug along the railway tracks as near the gun itself as was practicable. It would be a keen observer who could detect from any considerable height anything unusual in the appearance of this spot. To such observers it must have appeared as an unbroken forest.

In discussing a few days later the subject of these emplacements with Marshal Joffre, he told me that he had examined them with great interest. He commented upon the infinite patience and prodigious amount of labour which must have been required by the Germans in constructing such massive works.

How many of my readers realize that, during the memorable siege of Paris in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871, there were fewer people killed and less destruction of life in the city of Paris than that caused by the air-raids and the shells from the long-distance guns during the Spring and Summer months of 1918? While in former days German guns were placed at St. Cloud and St. Germain just outside of the city limits, yet in the Great War, from an average distance of fifty miles that enemy was enabled, through the developments which I have just mentioned, to rain by day and night destruction upon the people of the city.

The very fact of the execution of such destruction by such means has furnished in passing the best argument for the ending of all wars. We all know that for many years past it has been claimed that the development of science, especially in the means of destruction by the use of great warships, the submarines, air-planes, and the great guns, had become such that war would become impossible, that the side that got the first shot would annihilate the other. Yet in the face of those predictions we witnessed a war which lasted four years which resulted in the loss of ten million lives of the best blood of Europe; and of ruin of property which the world cannot pay for in another fifty years.