First World War Centennial

XII

AT THE MISSOURI ATHLETIC CLUB, ST. LOUIS, MO.

monday, may 7th

Gentlemen:

ONE of your previous speakers said that the French flag was the first flag that ever floated over this city; but, even before he recalled to our minds that glorious memory, we already had felt something of it in our hearts; it seemed to us that some of the radiance shining over this city was reflected in its folds. For here indeed a special joy was in store for us, here in this great city, where for centuries human tor­rents have flowed, leaving behind them alluvial deposits abundant and generous. Here, beneath the communion of souls, beneath like impulses of heart and conscience, we detected something that brought us nearer to France than we have yet been. And I do not exaggerate when I say that among you we have found the three characteristic features of our own country. For you are endowed with the sturdy self-possession of our northern populations which have met invasion without a minute's discouragement or weakness; and next in your words and demeanour we find the charming gentleness of our province of Touraine, that garden of France whose beauty seems to flower here anew; and thirdly, you have the ardent soul and the enthusiasm of our southern people, of the popu­lations which dwell upon the shores of our warm, luminous Mediterranean Sea. You are the whole people of France here gathered under her flag; for, indeed, whence else could the admirable generosity arise which you have lavished upon our orphans and our wounded? Whence the wonder­ful organization of the Red Cross? It has im­provised ambulances for mobilization and war; it has given to each unit forty thousand medical and surgical first-aid kits; it brings all aid to the French soldiers fighting for liberty. Whence, too, could the magnificent organization of your bazaar have arisen? There, in a very modest way, the films representing the French Army stirred your admiration of its prowess on the battlefield. You were shown the French Army rushing to attack, the French Army defending its trenches, the French Army ready to march upon the enemy, the French Army which you cheered with such fervour that the warmth of your acclamations has reached the very heart of France. Whence else could the attitude of the Press arise, a Press as powerful as it is disinterested and whose conception of journal­ism is the true one, since it educates the cities, States all facts, corrects all errors. It sufficed it should simply say the truth, without courting or flattering any, for France to appear to you as the first of all nations. And what other source in­spired the admirable epigraph which I found on the second page of this document:

O noble France, si fièrement éprise d'idéal, la cité de St. Louis te salue en ce jour et, glorieuse d'être issue de toi, se prepare a te soutenir dans ta lutte héroïque pour la justice, le adroit et la liberté.

(Translation as follows: O, noble France, so proudly wed to all ideals, the City of St. Louis greets thee in this day, and glorying in the fact that she sprang from thee, is ready to stand by thee in thy heroic struggle for justice, right and liberty.)

We will bring back in our hearts this wonderful greeting to France, just as we will bring back in our hearts the motto which faces us now, and which recalls the words of Lafayette, of Napoleon, of the President of our Republic. Yes, the friend­ship between France and America is eternal; yes, your admiration did not miss its goal; it went straight through the traditions of which you have preserved the memory to the France of other days and the France of to-day alike. It was St. Louis who was the patron saint of this city, and you have not forgotten the noble part he played in French history. Times have changed. St. Louis used to mete out justice under the shade of an oak tree: there he settled all conflicts between his quarrel­some subjects; to-day our task is to prepare a better humanity for a world in which nations will mete out justice to one another. But that work is not for to-day; to-day all must join together in action, in a common duty, and in a common struggle. Our task is not to mete out justice, but to avenge it with the sword.

Why did one of your most important newspapers yesterday recall that St. Louis was the patron of this city? Why did it recall that he led the crusaders across the Mediterranean Sea? It was not, I am certain, in order to recall an historical fact which everybody knows, but in order to con­nect the past and the present, to show that the soul of France was the same throughout the ages. For ever since France achieved her national unity, she has held in her hands, and has upborne ever since, the flag of justice; she has shed her blood everywhere, across the Mediterranean with St. Louis; on French soil with the men who stayed the flood of the barbarians; with the armies of the Revolution, which, at the battle of Valmy, not only liberated their own territory, but saved the liberty of other peoples; with Lafayette, the first Frenchman who at the close of a decaying mon­archy came here to bring your great Washington the help of his sword and to shed, side by side with you, French blood on American soil. And the marvellous reception accorded us here proves to me that our blood was not shed in vain; indeed, blood poured out for liberty has never been shed in vain; always from that blood springs an im­mortal seed of which future generations gather the harvest. And it is because Lafayette came here; because he brought here French aid under the French flag to the soldiers who fought for Ameri­can independence, that we find here to-day, after one hundred and forty years, friendly faces, trust­ing hearts and outstretched hands. You have not forgotten your oath of gratitude. Nor do we forget our oath of fidelity to you.

But it is also to the France of to-day that your admiration goes out. Ah, doubtless when the great storm came, when the ground trembled under our steps, although our hearts never trembled, fears were entertained abroad for the safety of France. France was supposed to be a decaying, dissolute, corrupted country. It was thought she would never be able to play her great part and to uphold the flag of France as in past days. People wondered wheth­er she would be able to link the present and the past in a firm bond; whether her people would be worthy of their ancestors; whether they would be able to fight as they had fought; but the first few days of struggle dissipated all doubts, and the forces of our historical tradition burst forth again, manifest to all.

And the soldiers of France, who during the month of August, 1914, underwent heart-breaking hardships, who fought against an enemy five times their number, who were almost isolated in the fields of France, who were there almost alone, hold­ing at arm's length, so to say, an invader whose gradual advance seemed irresistible, why did the soldiers of France fight so magnificently? In sooth because they were the soldiers of France; but also because they were the missionaries of liberty; and, if at times they seemed to waver, it was not through weariness and exhaustion; it was because the burden of the glory which had de­scended on us from out of all the centuries, had fallen on their shoulders, and it was their duty not to fail under its weight.

And, my American brothers, bear this well in mind; our army is a democratic army in which, in spite of the stripes on the sleeves of the officers, all men are equal. It is an army of citizens who willingly submit to discipline and pay willing respect to their superiors, and who follow the voice of their conscience instead of yielding to the voice of compulsion. And this is why they fought as they did. And they were led by Marshal Joffre, standing here, whom you have acclaimed. But do you realize his true title to fame? No doubt, he led the armies of the Marne to victory; he stood an immovable rock amidst the storm. All that is true. But, a few moments ago one of you brought to Marshal Joffre a very plain post card. And his gesture showed how delicately noble are the feelings that prompt your acts, and to quote one of your orators, how deep is not only the friendship, but the affection, the brotherly affection you bring to France, the same in your hearts as in ours. And what do I see on this post card I hold? Oh, may the person that received it, and better still, that kept it, be thanked for his feelings of fidelity toward France. What is it which this card shows us? It is the simple and modest little house where Marshal Joffre was born. He is a son of the people. His parents were poor; they underwent privations in order to pay for his education. He made his way to the highest school in France, the Polytechnic School; he fought his way silently, modestly, asking nobody's help; he rose to the summit of the military hierarchy. And, do you know what he will do to-morrow when he returns to his modest hearth? He will hang against the wall the sword of victory. As he came from the people, so will he return to the people. He will court no street ovations, but will modestly wait until impartial history has placed him forever in the temple of fame, and accurately marked out the signification of the part he played.

Such is the true beauty of France. Soldiers and officers, citizens all, have all come from the people; all alike were prepared to fight, not only for the defence of our territory, but also for the independence of all peoples. You fully realized that: you have marvellously understood that: and it is because you understand that we owe the admirable welcome which you have accorded us. May this welcome ever dwell in our hearts; rest assured that we will bring the remembrance of it back with us to France. And here too, the supreme nobility of this gathering is that it is one of free men, and that the same ideal shines before all our eyes. In other countries, in the Central Empires, they go to battle in order to conquer territory, in order to conquer human bodies. Our only desire is to conquer minds, to conquer souls. We wish to penetrate into the life of other nations in order to bring them the breath of liberty, in order to raise them higher and higher toward the magnificent ideals of democracy. Our desire is that out of this war may come the great lesson, that democracies, when they are organized for fight, are stronger than autocracies. An illus­trious Frenchman, whose words, I am sorry to say, are not often enough quoted even in France, and who long ago visited America, De Tocqueville, once wrote this sentence, which I wish I could see reproduced everywhere, as it so wonderfully ap­plies to the drama of this day:

When a democracy is struggling with an autocracy, if the autocracy is not at once victorious, it is democracy that is sure of the ultimate victory. And why so? Because all autocracy can do is to gather human bodies, while democracy uplifts souls and can alone give to the souls of men the nurture they need; in order to uplift him in battle the soldier must have before his eyes the great flame of human idealism. If he gives his life blood, it is not only for the soil of his native land, but for something less material, less easy to grasp, for a splendour all men can see from whatever point of the earth they look. And it is for that splendour we fight, and that is why to-morrow you will be fighting by our side. Let the sneerers and the sceptical jeer. How often has not France been sneered at by men who professed to be historians! How often has she been accused of having sacri­ficed herself for other peoples; of having reck­lessly squandered her blood over all the earth; our soldiers have been accused of fighting all over the universe in the vain pursuit of visions and un­attainable dreams. It is a lie. Ideals are not only the most lofty of all aims, but also the most useful. When men who carry ideals with them pass over a land, they leave behind them immortal seeds of which, after years and years, future generations reap the harvest. When a people fights for democracy and liberty, its work does not end there; it stirs for years and years within the souls of other men, who, one after another, rise in admiration for a generous nation. It is thus you have acted; it is thus we have acted. In 1776, Washington founded American independ­ence; at that time none could contemplate the general interests of all humanity: at that time in a world full of absolute monarchies, there could be no question of bringing liberty to all. But to-day your President, Mr. Wilson, has fully realized the mysterious aspects, the deep meanings con­cealed in the progress of American history. And, although I am not an American, although I stand more remote from you, more remote than you from the traditions of your country, I am sure that Washington himself would have blessed the work which has been accomplished. He had begun it by establishing American independence. But what would the independence of one people avail if it should fail to bring independence to other peoples in their turn? Liberty, independence, ideals are not treasures which a people should hide as a miser hides his hoard. They are destined to be of profit to all humanity and to all peoples gathered together in a common cause.

And this is why you have remained faithful to your traditions; this is why you have looked the Teutonic aggression full in the face, and have re­fused to allow your great national honour to be humiliated under the insults and the aggressions which have been heaped upon you. But the rea­son for the incomparable scope of your act, the reason why the message of your illustrious Presi­dent will take its place among the loftiest historical documents which the world cherishes, is because after having fully realized your case against im­perial Germany, you declared at the same time your intention to avenge, not only the dead of America, but of all other peoples, to defend the sacred rights of humanity and to fight for democ­racy and civilization.

At last, we are all united. The hour of deliver­ance has struck. Let democracy, more and more, show its radiant face, and let autocracy sink into the darkness of night. As for us, we have already for three years fought hand against hand, breast against breast. And the Imperial Eagle which three years ago was soaring over our provinces, trying to snatch them from the hands of our sol­diers, has now been compelled to descend from its bloody heights, to graze the earth and finally bury itself in the trenches.

Such is the fight we have fought. Come to us to fight the fight for universal deliverance; to fight the fight that democracy may prevail.

But I have already said too much. I am afraid I have overtaxed your patience. Another cere­mony is awaiting us. We are about to go into the streets to greet the population of St. Louis, and to express our unbounded gratitude for the reception and the welcome that have been ac­corded us. Far from our motherland, five thousand miles away from Paris, we are stirred to a deeper emotion by these cheers addressed to France. A few moments ago I said to one of our companions, that if they love France in France, if they are touched by her greatness and her beauty, they do not realize what it means to love France till they are in the midst of an allied and beloved people.

Let us go then to greet your fellow citizens. Let us go and admire the proud demeanour of your soldiers standing erect as we pass by, a solemn and happy omen. Let us go and greet all those who are waiting for us, who are stretching their hands out to us. Be assured our hearts will bring back to France from America sweet memories and feelings of everlasting fidelity.