THE INTERNATIONAL RED CROSS
We sailed on the _Leviathan_, formerly the _Vaterland_. When we boarded
the ship, we found the dock was elaborately decorated for the arrival of
the Secretary of the Navy; the handsome royal suite was reserved for him
and his wife. Josephus Daniels, no longer wearing his customary white
suit, now displayed an admiral’s cap, and was surrounded by admirals and
captains who were under his orders. He was the Secretary of the Navy and
to the chagrin of some of our prominent ironmasters, he had assumed the
exacting supervision of naval armour plate in lieu of his effective
distribution of newspaper boiler plate during the first Wilson campaign.
Other fellow passengers were seven physicians bound, like myself, for
the international conference of Red Cross Societies at Cannes: William
H. Welch, of Johns Hopkins, typifying to us all the wonderful
accomplishments of the Rockefeller Institute; L. Emmett Holt, the
medical foster-father of thousands of American babies; Hermann M. Biggs,
who, in his official capacities, has lifted public hygiene into a
recognized requirement of modern civilization; Colonel Russell, Chief of
the Division of Infectious Diseases in the U. S. Surgeon-General’s
office; Edward R. Baldwin, head of the well-known Saranac Lake
Sanatorium for Tuberculosis; Fritz B. Talbot, of Boston, famous as a
specialist in children’s diseases; and Samuel M. Hammill, head of the
Pennsylvania Child-Welfare Board. With these was Mr. Chanler P.
Anderson, ex-solicitor of the State Department.
We took our meals at the same table and used these often wasted hours to
weave precious strands of friendship that can best be created amongst
people animated by the same aims and sharing the obligations of service.
At my suggestion, we decided to hold daily meetings to prepare for
submission to the Conference a plan which would embody the combined
thoughts of our entire party. Dr. Welch had intended to devote his time
at sea to writing an article on his old associate, Dr. Osler, but rather
regretfully postponed his task and accepted his usual position--that of
chairman. Dr. Holt was elected secretary so that, with Dr. Biggs as
vice-chairman, we transferred to our gatherings the precision and expert
management of the Rockefeller Institute.
Dr. Welch’s first thought has always been of public service. Before our
country entered the war, he went to the President and suggested making
ready our medical practitioners and hospitals for service. Mr. Wilson
appointed him to the Council of National Defense, and some day the
public will be surprised to learn how much he did toward that phase of
preparedness. On the _Leviathan_ he brought out what was best in us and
proved, at the age of sixty-eight, the fallacy of the popular
interpretation of Dr. Osler’s statement about the end of human
usefulness at forty-five.
All of the physicians were animated by this same high motive: not to
commercialize their talents, but to devote much of them to research work
for the benefit of mankind. As all of them were recognized authorities
in their respective fields, they stated their experience and knowledge
in so convincing a manner that it was like reading the last word written
on the subject.
After a few days of strictly medical discussion, I ventured to read them
my conception of the proper future of the Red Cross as published in the
New York _Times_ of March 15, 1919, arguing that this noble
organization ought now to become militant and endeavour to reach with
curative and preventive measures into the innermost recesses of both
hemispheres, where diseases originate and dense ignorance prevails. We
all agreed that we must remedy the intellectual deficiencies as well as
the physical weaknesses of the backward peoples, and, therefore,
prepared a memorandum, later presented to the Conference, recommending a
broad international programme of this character.
We landed at Brest, and hurried to Paris and immediately reported to Mr.
Davison. There I met Mr. Hoover’s secretary, who said that “The
Chief”--a title given Hoover by all his admiring adherents--was anxious
to see me. I found Hoover concerned as to whether our contemplated
organization would conflict with his exclusive authority conferred by
President Wilson to manage all the American relief activities
everywhere. I promptly relieved his mind, assuring him that the League
of the Red Cross Societies had no intention of distributing food or in
any way interfering with the American Relief administration.
Our first Red Cross meeting was held next day in Mr. Davison’s office at
the Regina and then we presented our programme, urging its adoption as
necessary to retain the interest and coöperation of the millions of
adult and junior members of the American Red Cross. But, unfortunately,
Mr. Davison relied largely on Colonel Strong, and his plans were
adopted; they were conventional and confined to a limited field.
A few days later, Mr. Davison gave a dinner at the little old-fashioned
house on the Quai de la Tourelle. The recruits from America were meeting
the scarred veterans just returned from the front-line trenches. Here
were the men that had fought dismay in Italy, typhus in Servia, who had
worked wonders on the Bosphorus, and saved the babies of Roumania. We
heard their modest reports through which their valour and their triumphs
shone like so many pillars of fire. America had done these things: all
non-combatant Americans had faithfully worked to develop the
organization which made them possible; we newcomers from America,
burning with the volunteer spirit and ready with a programme to continue
that usefulness and extend it throughout all the world, were raised, as
we listened, far above the material plane.
War-time regulations were still in force: all lights should have been
extinguished at 9:30, and Frederic himself popped a worried head in at
the door several times to tell Davison so. Therefore, when our host
called on me for the closing speech, he said:
“I regret that you will have only five minutes for it, too. The curfew
has rung three times already.”
In concluding my speech, I said:
“My friends, I have been entranced by the splendid spirit displayed this
evening. I have shared with you the elation of the hour.
“You field workers have inspired us by recounting the blessings that
have been showered upon you by the thousands of grateful recipients of
your services, while we have freshened your drooping enthusiasm and
reinforced your ardour by transmitting from your millions of members at
home their hopes and prayers that you will ‘Carry On.’ The determination
of all the guests to transform these hopes into definite actions seems
to have changed this table into an altar at which to pledge ourselves to
assume this new task of further brothering those who are still crying
for help.”
Next day, on the train for Cannes, when Davison called Chanler Anderson
and myself into conference, I again stated that, as we had the moral,
scientific, educational, and sociological experts of nearly all the
world mobilized and ready for further work, it would be criminal
negligence not to make use of such an unprecedented opportunity. Davison
agreed as to fundamentals, but was afraid that too big a programme would
frighten away the representatives of other nations. We could have the
larger goal in mind, he said, and hope ultimately to reach it, but we
must commence with something concrete in the conventional way to secure
the coöperation of the non-American delegates.
Notwithstanding this, the Cannes Conference was an inspiring experience.
Here we were gathered from all parts of the world, exchanging
condolences for the terrible ravages suffered by the various nations,
watching intently, and waiting with deep fear in our hearts the outcome
of the developments in Paris, hoping and praying that some definite good
would result from this war, bewildered at our inability to recognize any
definite signs of a coming solution, conscious that the old-fashioned
diplomacy was eclipsing the modern thoughts and aims of the progressive,
disinterested members at the Conference. We felt that perhaps true
democracy could only exist, as it did at our Conference, where every man
was chosen on account of his individual merit, and not on account of
birth, or political pull, or influence; and some of us thought that,
perhaps, after all, the improvement of the world would have to be
brought about by a non-political body of men, whose right to serve arose
from their own qualifications, and whose tenure of service would not be
influenced by constant changes in government. It dawned upon us that,
_perhaps_, these millions of members of the Red Cross Societies all over
the world, with the many more millions that would join them, could
undertake to establish a permanent organization that would put into
practical execution all the teachings of religion, science, education,
medicine, hygiene, and sociology. While those in Paris were rearranging
the boundaries, we were trying to develop the universal spirit of
service to all humanity which would recognize no boundaries, or class
distinctions, or religious differences.
Under the presidency of Dr. Émile Roux, the worthy successor of Pasteur,
it became a Congress of Scientists. Leading members of the medical
profession in the Associated Nations were there, and the same tone of
unselfish interest on behalf of humanity that I had found among the
American representatives prevailed. Rivalries, envies, personal
ambitions were totally absent; there was none of the crossing and
double-crossing, scheming and misrepresentation of a political
convention. These fine intellects were making a genuine effort to create
an agency through which all discoveries in medicine and hygiene could be
utilized for the benefit of mankind without thoughts of royalties or
patents. It was a revelation to a practical business man, and I
sincerely wished that more business men could profit by such an
experience with practical idealists.
In private talks some of the delegates from the different countries
responded wonderfully to my suggested plan, but they had been stunned by
the war and were bewildered by the resultant chaos and depended on the
United States to take the lead. Another thing discouraged me: no
representatives were present from the general educational, sociological,
or philanthropic worlds, and the best of men must necessarily see life
through the glasses of their own profession. Consequently, I was not
surprised, though I was disappointed, by the adoption of Colonel
Strong’s programme.
It was what his remarks in Paris had indicated. Early activities were to
be limited to those of an international health and statistical bureau.
The Conference decided that the international societies should deal only
with general hygienic improvement and child-welfare, and that even in
these matters the central organization, instead of doing the actual
work, should leave that to the constituent league members and confine
itself to the development of policies and the collection of statistics.
The question remained: who was to be the executive of this still
potentially important force?
Throughout the Conference Davison was recognized as its organizing and
directing spirit. It was a delight to see him in action, to note his
quick response to suggestions, his prompt absorption of committee
reports, his analysis of technical addresses. Devoting the full measure
of his great ability to the work, he was performing it admirably and
enjoying the performance. Everything depended upon the choice of a
director-general; yet here was the very man to maintain vitality in this
organism: why should he not remain the leader?
The result was a heart-to-heart talk, in which I still clung to my
“Vision of the Red Cross after the War.”
For two solid hours, with all the eloquence and persuasiveness I could
muster, I tried to induce Henry P. Davison to abandon his business
career and devote the rest of his life to this cause. I argued that the
great satisfaction he plainly felt through contact with scientists of
one profession indicated the enjoyment he would experience in bringing
together the leaders in education, sociology, and general philanthropy;
and that the ability which made him successful with the physicians would
completely eclipse that success when he added to these the leaders in
other fields. I told of a discussion I had had in Paris with John R.
Mott, and how thoroughly he regretted that the Y.M.C.A. could not
undertake this great work.
“No president of any republic,” I said, “has ever had such an
opportunity as this. Here is a chance to lead an army that will
eventually really improve the world. You have shown that you possess the
requisite administrative ability and vision. By sterling qualities and
hard work, you’ve reached the top of the business ladder. On it there is
nothing above you comparable to what this new career holds. Until a few
years ago you used your personal magnetism, and all the gifts so
generously bestowed upon you, in finance. Now, you have been using them
with phenomenal success in philanthropy. You must know that the former
is ephemeral, while in the latter, the good to be done is lasting. While
so many are exploiting the masses, you can lead in benefiting them. The
thing that’s needed to cure the ills of man isn’t another compromise
peace treaty. Practical, world-wide philanthropy is the thing that’s
needed, and the man who organizes that will be the acknowledged leader
of modern humanitarianism.”
Davison was really deeply moved. He listened attentively,
sympathetically; he was under the spell of the ideal. But the chords
that held him to materialism were too strong; he was still enmeshed.
“I’ll do everything I can to help make a success of the larger Red
Cross,” he said, “but I can’t devote my entire time to it.”
“That’s not enough,” I answered. “It will be impossible for you to run
an International League of Red Cross Societies the way you’re running
railroads and other enterprises, from the corner of Broad and Wall
streets.”
Then he put his arm around my shoulder and said, in effect:
“I don’t want to make any more money, but I owe a definite obligation to
my firm and the corporations I’m connected with. I wish with my whole
heart that I could go on with the Red Cross, but it’s impossible,
Morgenthau--impossible!”
There being no appeal from his decision, we canvassed other names. The
matter reduced itself to a choice between Franklin K. Lane and General
W. W. Atterbury, and, as the latter was in France, Davison had him come
to Cannes and talk the proposition over, but found that the General
considered it his duty to resume his position as vice-president of the
Pennsylvania Railroad as soon as he was released from the army. We then
turned toward Secretary Lane, and agreed that I should send the
following telegram:
ADMIRAL GRAYSON,
c/o President Wilson,
Place des États-Unis, Paris.
Kindly ascertain and notify by telephone Otis Cutler, Hotel Regina,
Paris, whether President Wilson has any objection to Secretary Lane
being approached to accept the General Directorship of the
Associated National Red Cross. Davison and his advisers, after a
thorough canvass of available material here, have unanimously
concluded that Lane is best equipped for this most important post.
As success of movement is so largely dependent on its management,
we hope President will assent.
(Signed)
HENRY MORGENTHAU.
The reply was another evidence of Wilson’s fine loyalty to his friends:
HON. HENRY MORGENTHAU,
Cannes, France.
The President does not know what the position proposed is, but he
could not see his way to approving anything that would necessarily
involve Secretary Lane’s withdrawal from his position unless the
desire originated with him.
(Signed)
CARY T. GRAYSON.
Davison then cabled one of his partners to see Lane personally and asked
me to cable Lane direct, which was done as follows:
FRANKLIN LANE,
Washington, D. C.
Welch, Biggs, Farrand, Holt, and myself, who have been consulted by
Davison as to choice of Director General, all believe that you are
the best man for the position and that the movement will give you
an unhampered opportunity to utilize your wonderful experience. We
all urge you to give it favourable consideration. Have read
Davison’s cable and it does not fully picture the unlimited scope
of service afforded. It is second to no prior chance to help
suffering humanity.
(Signed)
MORGENTHAU.
If Davison would have taken the director-generalship, or if it could
have been given to Lane or Atterbury, or someone else of their vision
and ability, the organization might have become a very different affair
from what it is to-day. But this was not to be. Accident intervened
before Lane would act, and the International League of Red Cross
Societies added another to the list of the world’s lost chances. This is
what happened:
We had come back to Paris. The Executive Committee was in session at the
Hotel Regina. In an unguarded moment, Davison said:
“If Great Britain can produce a man fitted for the director-generalship,
I shall consent to his appointment.”
Instantly, Sir Arthur Stanley jumped at the offer. He was president of
the British Red Cross and the younger brother of the Earl of Derby, at
that time British Ambassador to France. He has a lame foot, but his
intellect is as agile as any man’s. His bright eyes flashed like
diamonds. Trained fencer that he is, he saw the opening Davison had
given him and took full advantage of it.
“I’ll investigate immediately!” said he.
I went over to Davison and in Stanley’s hearing told him that this was a
mistake; the Americans should name the Director-General, because we
would have to assume the burden of organization and had the resources
to do so properly.
“And the French and Italians will side with you,” I added, “if it is a
choice between England and us.”
Luncheon recess intervened. During it, I spoke to the Latin delegates,
and they confirmed my opinion. They admitted that they had not realized
what the proposition meant, and that they certainly preferred to have an
American. At the afternoon session they proposed, in this hope, that the
selection of a Director-General be left entirely to Davison.
He, however, said that he was committed to his proposition, though he
hoped that Sir Arthur would not be able to find a man equipped for the
post. Two days later, Davison informed me that Sir Arthur had proposed
General David Henderson, and that he (Davison) had had thorough
inquiries made about Henderson and found that his record and standing
were such that no objection could be raised. Henderson became
Director-General.
One last hopeful note was sounded. I had told Mr. Davison to command me
if he thought I could do anything further, and I was pleasantly
surprised when he came and asked me whether my offer included a dinner
to the Governors of the League of the Red Cross Societies. He explained
that he was making this request because a former diplomat could secure
the greatly desired attendance of the diplomatic representatives now
gathered at the Peace Conference.
The result was one of those thoroughly cosmopolitan dinners which could
have occurred only in that city and at that time. In addition to the Red
Cross board, there were present representatives of the twenty-four
different countries that had been invited to join our League. Speeches
were made by Ian Malcolm, speaking for Sir Arthur Stanley and Great
Britain; Count Kergolay, for France; Count Frascara, for Italy;
Professor Arata Nina Gawa, for Japan; Sir Eric Drummond,
Secretary-General of the League of Nations; General Henderson, the newly
chosen head of the Red Cross League; Count Wedel Jarlsberg, of Denmark,
doyen of the Diplomatic Corps in Paris; Dr. Welch, Mrs. William K.
Draper, Mr. Davison, and Dr. William Rappard, acting as interpreter and
also speaking on behalf of the International Red Cross at Geneva. I
presided as toastmaster and, listening to the sentiments of the various
addresses, all pitched in the highest optimistic and philanthropic key,
felt that here was a readiness to coöperate that, if properly directed
into action, might yet launch the organization upon the seas of larger
usefulness.
This hope, however, was never realized. When we failed to retain Davison
as the active leader, or to get somebody of equal ability for
Director-General, I feared that the League of Red Cross Societies would
become a soulless bureau; that it could not undertake any of the broader
activities we had hoped for, and that this wonderful nucleus of millions
of adult and junior humanitarians would never be transformed into that
great army of world welfare-workers which some of us had dreamed about
and that all mankind so sorely needs. Subsequent events have justified
my fears.