X
IN KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI
SUNDAY, MAY 6TH
Ladies and Gentlemen:
BEFORE we arrived here my fellow countrymen and I knew the forces of organization and production this city contains. And my first words must go to the laborious patience and courage of the men who inhabit this state: yours are the qualities of tenacity, economy, and courage which are all the annals and the glory of our French peasants' lives. Here to this centre flow the millions of bushels of wheat that make you, I will not say the granary of the United States, but one of the granaries of the world.
And I thank the Mayor of this city for having said just now that you were ready to work for the Allies and for France, for, as he said in admirable words, war is not a matter of munitions and cannon alone, but also of provisions for those who fight in the line of labour behind it.
And in what terms can I express our joy at seeing a town at once so beautiful and so full of evidences of power? Under the spring sunshine which greeted us here we saw your women, your children, your charming young girls, the endless lines of your people all along the roads welcoming, in our persons, France and the Republic. But beneath the warm sun, among all the radiance of spring, we Frenchmen would have felt a sort of shame in our joy, the shame of being thus happy while our land was in mourning and our children are shedding their blood, had we not felt on what mission we came here, and that the vast crowds that hailed us were thrilled with the thought that they, too, were ready to fight the fight for liberty. How can we adequately express what we have seen here, what we have heard here, the sacred, the unanimous communion of all creeds animated by the same thoughts and expressing them in identical words?
For my own part, I can only say how deeply I personally was touched by the spectacle you presented while prayers were being said. I saw the vast sea of heads bowed in reverence, and your eyes uplifted to heaven afterward as if you sought divine justice there. And I wondered how you could implore the God of mercy and pity and in the same breath invoke the God of battles. But you implored the God of battles because the God of pity and mercy cannot but turn away from the bestial rage of men. You cannot forget that in spite of sworn treaties, our adversaries invaded little Belgium, great in history by reason of her courage; you cannot forget they destroyed Louvain and bombarded the magnificent cathedral of Rheims, which was the jewel of our French architecture. But I should be unjust to the splendour of your faith if I supposed for one moment that any individual feeling animated you against the German hordes solely because they had destroyed the sacred temples where your brethren and fellow believers knelt erstwhile in prayer. It is for higher reasons, as the Governor of Missouri said, that you enter into this war. It is because you are resolved this war shall be the last; and, as we are resolved to carry it to the bitter end, our common victory is assured. You said one moment ago that you were ready to give your last man to attain that end. It is an oath.
We have fought for life. For three years France has poured out her blood on the fields of battle: for three years her sons have been in the trenches: during three years thousands and thousands of our children have fallen: all the others are guarding the battle line. Next August, three years will have elapsed since we stayed the German avalanche that was sweeping over French territory. And why have we fought thus? Was it to conquer territories? No. For other ends. You understand that: you understand it so well that all your orators are agreed in giving to this holy war its full meaning and gravest import. It is not a fight between armies, not between men in different uniforms, but between peoples: a fight between democracy and autocracy.
Come then and join us as your speakers asked you just now; when you come to us, it is not to France you come, but to civilization, to humanity.
And here I wish to recall a generous expression that went to our hearts: France is so identified with the liberty of peoples and with civilization that when one looks for Liberty one sees France. It is she who has upheld the banner of Liberty. She it was who in the days of the French Revolution lit a flame in all hearts and souls. From her lips fell the thoughts of freedom which have traversed the whole world, to the icy steppes of Russia where the fire of revolution is kindled even now and where we shall shortly see the new government, in full control of itself and all Russia, lead its soldiers to battle and its citizens to final deliverance.
And it is France which for three long years has fought, wept, bled. She it is who counts the heaviest toll of dead: she it is who has the greatest number of widows and orphans. She has been trampled under foot by her invaders; but step by step they retreat, thanks to the courage of our soldiers, thanks also to our brave English allies. Three years has France been subjected to this life. Come to her now: you will come to the cause of liberty, of civilization. Come to her. There is no better way of making democracy reign in the world, democracy which alone can end all wars.
And since you have deemed that our presence here was worthy to receive a solemn visible consecration, since your Mayor, in the name of your city, has given this Mission this card of gold on which the liberty of your town is inscribed, thus making us your fellow-citizens, let me say that we shall treasure it with deepest gratitude. But let me add also, Mr. Mayor, that in our hearts more precious and pure than purest gold is inscribed the memory of what we owe first to Kansas City, then to the State of Missouri and to all this population and—be not envious—to all the United States, to free America, our Sister Republic, which at the call of its illustrious President, Mr. Wilson, has risen to a man.
Good-bye, my friends. We await you: we know we can rely upon your fidelity and courage. We rest assured that you will never desert your great duty; that the solemn words exchanged to-day have all the force of an oath, and will be carried out to the last syllable. Good-bye: Long live the United States! Long live France!