763.72/10596½
The Ambassador in France (Sharp) to the Secretary of State
My Dear Mr. Secretary: At a time when a stage has been reached in the progress of this great war which marks it as probably the most critical since the early September days of 1914, when Paris all but fell into the grasp of the German armies, I have thought that a survey of the situation as it exists at this moment might be appreciated by you. Reports which deal exclusively and in detail with the military situation must be so readily available to your Department that I shall confine myself almost entirely to the political aspects of conditions to be found here.
Like former ones to you, I have chosen to have this letter partake of a personal nature rather than that of a more official despatch because of its confidential character on account of the use of certain names, as well as quotations from those prominent in public affairs. Such a letter also gives me more freedom than I would feel permitted to employ in telegrams to the Department, regardless of the kind of cipher used.
We are now passing through the third stage of the war, well-defined and quite distinctive from the preceding ones.
The first stage, in its shortness of duration as well as in the pyrotechnic display of its force, was as some brilliant meteor flashing across the skies from the borderlands of the Belgian frontier and dying out almost in the very environs of Paris. Like a flash, the flower of Germany’s troops swept over what should have been the inviolate territory of Belgium, meeting its first check by the heroic defenders of Liège.
I shall always believe that the forced delay of but a few days, before the forts of that doomed city were crumbled by the shells of the great German guns, was, nevertheless, sufficient to enable the Allied forces to oppose the oncoming horde of invaders with the matchless defenders of the Marne.
This first stage of the war, so spectacular in its course, was ended within six weeks after the declaration of hostilities. Both contending forces, given a momentary respite, then burrowed themselves underground along a line extending from the English Channel to the Swiss frontier, and a unique warfare began such as has never in its fullest sense characterized any other war of history. This was the trench system of warfare.
The strongest of man-made forts could be crumbled like powder by the giant shells of modern artillery, but they made little depressions like so many dents on the surface of Mother Earth which, in [Page 132] some places,—particularly in the territory of the famous campaign of Arras—were so numerous as to resemble, when I first saw them, a myriad of miniature valleys among the choppy billows of an ocean. Amidst such scenes one wondered how even a mole could escape alive. But the trenches were deep and whole armies lived within their cavernous protection.
For nearly four years this second stage—pre-eminently the trench stage—of the war ran its course, as we know, until late in the month of last March, with only here and there any material advance, the exception being the marked retreat of Von Hindenburg’s army just a year before in the section extending from Noyon in the south to Arras in the north. This very method of warfare, characterized by the impregnability of the trenches, and the constant watchfulness of the “man up in the air” to prevent any surprise massing of troops on either side, made such conditions fixed and unchanging.
These two stages, however,—the first of but a few weeks’ duration, the second of nearly as many years—have become a matter of history.
The third stage—more important than the preceding ones, because I believe it to be destined to be the final stage of actual warfare—was ushered in by the German attack late in March as abovementioned. It is this stage and the aspects surrounding its advent, in so far as the Paris view is concerned, that just now naturally most seriously engaged the attention of the Allied Powers.
All recognize that the attacks now being made constitute Germany’s supreme effort to win the war;—the “hurry-up” program of her military chieftains, to strike a mortal blow at the French and English armies before those from America can intervene to save the situation. The universal question as to whether they will be able to carry out such purpose, and, if so, of course to end the war, was asked with the greatest concern at the end of the first ten days of the marked gains made by the enemy along the British front.
The final checking of that advance was reassuring only in a limited measure. Everybody naturally expected the second attack, but, unfortunately, not in the place where it was finally launched. Again confidence was shaken in the ability of the Allied forces to withstand these onslaughts for again, as in the preceding attack, a considerable slice of territory including what must be conceded as an enormous booty in supplies, munitions, guns and prisoners of war, fell into the hands of the enemy.
But as the wearing away of the surface of a body that has been constantly more and more compressed becomes more difficult and more retarded in its process, so the mass of the defenders of the important passes leading toward Paris, becoming more compact, [Page 133] was finally able to resist any further advances—nay, more than this, to recover in some places the ground already lost and to inflict upon the enemy what is now quite fully admitted by him to have been an enormous punishment in loss of men.
Having “gotten their hand in”, so to speak, the troops under General Foch have been able, only recently, to hold the enemy in his third successive attack, even though in superior numbers, at a standstill. It is in the last two attacks—particularly in the second one on the sector between Rheims and Soissons—that the American troops first signalled the mighty power upon which, almost in the twinkling of an eye, the weary and discouraged soldiers of the English and French divisions, fighting so desperately all these trying years, have come now to rely so implicitly for deliverance.
The effect upon the people has been magical. To-day America’s stock is quoted in the streets of every hamlet, village and town of France at a highwater mark. Everywhere the American soldier is looked upon somewhat as the big policeman who interposes to protect the passerby against the sudden attack of the murderous thug. Perhaps, excepting that of courage, if I were to signalize the one predominating characteristic—which, after all, is rather generic in its scope—of our American boys in action, it would be that of resourcefulness. It is indeed that one quality which, in my opinion, has been more disconcerting to the enemy than any other one thing, and if I may be pardoned for my conceit—I would rather call it pride—in their achievements, I would say that the German troops are hereafter going to give these boys as wide a berth as possible.
I am only confirmed in the opinion which I expressed in one of my weekly telegraphic reports, that somewhere down the line, before these series of German attacks have ended, the American troops will play a most important rôle in saving a situation which, without them, would surely mean a hopeless defeat. Ere this letter reaches you such an opportunity may present itself, though I would rather believe that the next attack will be directed against the English forces at a point where not many of our American boys are stationed, and probably with such suddenness as to preclude their effective participation for some days.
But, interesting as are these speculations, I set out to write more of political than military matters.
While the above résumé has dealt quite entirely with an account of the military operations, yet, out of certain conditions imposed by them, the status of political affairs now existing in France may be said in a measure to have had their origin.
Anything like an account, however cursory, of the doings of preceding Ministries would be out of place in these busy times when [Page 134] we all have enough to do in dealing only with the problems of the moment—or even in reading of them. As I think I told you in a former letter, since my stay here of a little less than four years, I have seen five ministerial changes, all of them, with the possible exception of the present one, dictated in a large degree by personal considerations—for jealousy, I am persuaded, can be found more fully developed in the public life of France than anywhere else in the world, notwithstanding her thousand and one most admirable qualities.
While having a personal regard for every member of those Ministries, particularly the Premiers and Ministers for Foreign Affairs,—for they have all been and are to-day my good friends—yet I believe that Clemenceau, despite some of his alleged shortcomings—for if must be remembered that he is a man approaching seventy-seven years of age and has received as many blows as he has ever given—is the one man in the public life of France best qualified to meet the present critical situation where the issue, many believe, must be decided on the battlefield. Personally, I do not share that belief. Courage in dealing with one’s friends as well as in facing the enemy is demanded; in addition to this, great energy, determination and singleness of purpose must be qualities possessed by the man who would dominate the situation presented in France to-day. If I know the man—and I have had occasion to talk with him rather frequently and study his temperamental “make-up”—I believe Clemenceau possesses all these qualities.
However, while they give him strength with the people, the usual concomitants of resentment and bitter feeling have not failed to manifest themselves toward him from former powerful leaders in the French Government. Our own well-known saying at home, that “politics makes strange bed-fellows” is well exemplified in French politics, for conservative men who have no socialistic tendencies find a common cause of grievance against the Premier with out-and-out Radical Socialists. He is a veritable “bête-noire” in everything political, to this latter class.
Concerning the influence, quite occult in its bearing, of Mr. Caillaux, and the circumstances growing out of his long incarceration, I make no comment. That it seems to have a mysterious power and reaches out in the most unexpected ramifications is a fact with which the future may have to seriously concern itself.
It is not strange that under such circumstances the Socialists who have had no representatives in the present, nor in the preceding Ministry have at different times sought by their interpellations as to the conduct of the war to weaken Clemenceau’s Ministry; nor that whispered [Page 135] rumors have gained currency from time to time of some unexpected coalition of forces that would restore Mr. Briand to power.
I know that I may repeat to you in confidence what came to me recently from a very distinguished Frenchman of high military rank and very popular here. He said that President Poincaré had recently deplored the fact that they no longer had a Government in France. The Premier’s enemies quite unite in the charge that he is arbitrary, dictatorial and at times whimsical. Undoubtedly he has strong likes and dislikes, and such a man almost always incurs bitter enmities as well as draws to him the loyal affection of others. The picture of Clemenceau is to-day a composite picture of the French Government. His chief element of strength lies in the confidence and trust which the army places in him, and it is upon the army that France looks for her protection.
In this connection, interesting stories have been in circulation of late growing out of the possible consequences of a necessary evacuation of Paris. The fear has been expressed that should the Government again leave the city, as it did in September of 1914, there would be a crystallization of the Socialists’ element, the backbone of whose strength consists in the adherence to its principles of the working classes, and which might undertake to make overtures of peace with the enemy—even a revolution might be inaugurated, if necessary, to carry out such purpose.
But it is my opinion that only some dire calamity—some disheartening defeat at the front resulting in the loss of Paris—would make the position of Mr. Clemenceau insecure. With the enemy in tremendous force but forty miles away, the masses of the people will not look with favor upon the weakening or discrediting of a leader who, by his conduct, has symbolized the national resistance to such an invader. And the politicians dare not do so.
Paradoxical and strange as it may seem, the counsel of President Wilson, and his constructive measures, exert a vastly greater influence upon shaping the thought of the socialistic mind in France—sometimes of an iconoclastic tendency—than do any other leaders of the Allied Powers. The reason, perhaps, is not far to seek; it has confidence in his motives. In my judgment, that influence has been a valuable asset, and far more powerful in restraining the radical actions of this particular group, than is generally understood. They have time and again reiterated their own principles as being in full accord with those enunciated by President Wilson, and I would not be at all surprised that coming events would so shape themselves as to give such an unusual situation great weight in harmonizing the discordant elements which will have to be dealt with in making the terms of peace.
[Page 136]While in its broadest application of party names, there is an actual majority in the present Parliament of France—elected before the war—of Socialists, yet probably out of the total number, approximating six hundred, there are not more than 110 or 120 that belong to the out-and-out radical variety. The moderate Socialists include men of marked ability and high standing.
In my opinion, the only danger—and I have never believed it to be great—to wise and safe action, even under adverse conditions, will come from the small group of Radical Socialists. I do not here use the word “Radical” as a party designation but more in its descriptive sense as applied to their views.
While I have expressed the opinion that only under certain conditions which I have named could the Clemenceau Ministry fall, yet I must make the statement with the reservation that as in the instances of one or two Ministries in the past, plans apparently deeply laid have very quickly brought about their fall. Some men in high places have expressed the belief that this was due to happen again. Some unexpected incident may cause such a result.
If I have allowed my observations to center around Mr. Clemenceau, it is not alone because of his official position,—for he is both Premier and Minister of War—but because he typifies the martial spirit of the French people.
I would say something, in my concluding sentences, of the attitude exhibited in this crucial moment by the great mass of the people themselves. If anything like fear or panic finds place in their minds, it would be very difficult to discover it. I sometimes find myself wondering what new phase of danger or depredation could seriously disturb the outward calmness of these people. I must chiefly attribute it to the fact that they have had nearly four years of war and have come to accept as a matter of course any kind of conditions that might be imposed by it. And yet, naturally enough, everybody is intensely concerned over the events now taking place; very few fail to recognize their gravity. Many have indeed quietly left the city as a precaution against any dangers that may come from the expected bombardment.
Last evening I was returning at an early hour from a dinner at the Hotel de Crillon, and, strolling along with some friends by the Place de la Madeleine and the Boulevard Haussmann, it was remarked amongst the members of the party how almost completely deserted were the streets. Not for a distance of eight or ten blocks could be seen a half dozen vehicles or that many people walking along. The crowds that promenade the Champs Elysées at the most frequented hours have also been greatly thinned out, and I should say [Page 137] that in all probability one-half of the people of Paris has left the city during the past month.
I dislike to express my views as to what would happen in the possible contingency of Paris being eventually taken by the Germans. I have two good reasons for not doing so; first, because I have never believed that they could take the city, and, second, because if they did it would be a matter for the commanding officers of the Allied Armies to consider. If Paris in the gay times of peace was the center jewel in the crown of France, it is certainly, in times of war, her heart. For that and all other reasons which such a loss would involve, I hope that it may be the decree of Providence that no such question will have to be considered.
Stranger things have happened than that to the American boys from across the seas may yet come the lasting glory of saving not only Paris but, with it, the Allied cause, for if the enemy cannot take Paris he cannot win the war.
I am [etc.]