A WREATH FOR THE TOMB OF LAFAYETTE
THE official calls and the ceremonies that were designed both to
recognize formally the full meaning of the entrance of the United States
into the world war and to arouse a fresh enthusiasm in the French people
were almost at an end. General Pershing announced that on the following
day he intended to begin the work for which he had come. Already the
headquarters of the American Army had been established at the Rue de
Constantin and the work there was in full operation.
However, there were two other visits which the American commander
desired to make while he was in Paris. In Picpus Cemetery, Paris, was
the tomb of Lafayette. The friendship of the young marquis, his
enthusiasm for the ideals of democracy and the aid he had given the
colonies in America in their struggles for independence nearly a century
and a half before this time, had made his name as familiar as it was
beloved in the United States. He had been the personal friend of
Washington, his visit to America after the new nation had been formed,
his gifts and his example alike had added to the esteem in which he was
held there. As Lafayette had come from France to help America so now
Pershing had come from America to help France. What could be more
fitting than for the American commander to manifest publicly the
memories of the deep appreciation which clustered about the name of
Lafayette?
Accordingly General Pershing and a half-dozen of his officers were taken
to the tomb in Picpus Cemetery. There the little party was met by the
Marquis and the Count de Chambrun who are direct descendants of
Lafayette. Two orderlies carried a wreath of American Beauty roses which
was to be placed on the tomb of the ardent young Frenchman. There were
no formal or public services--the occasion being more like a token of
the personal feelings of the representative of one great nation for the
honored dead who had been the representative of another. The oft quoted
remark of General Pershing, "Lafayette, we are here," added to the
impressiveness.
General Pershing was welcomed at the cemetery quietly by the two
descendants of Lafayette and by them was conducted to the tomb. The
General and his fellow officers stood at salute while the orderlies were
placing the wreath of roses on the marble slab that marked the final
resting place of the brave and brilliant young French soldier.
In spite of the simplicity of the beautiful ceremony, however, the
enthusiastic people of Paris felt that somehow they must express their
appreciation of the tender and dignified tribute to one of their honored
dead. Great throngs lined the streets through which the party passed,
while a vast concourse assembled in the vicinity of Picpus Cemetery.
Their quickly aroused sentiments had been deeply stirred. A glimpse of
the passing American General was sufficient to deepen this appeal and
the cheers that greeted the Americans were fervent and heartfelt.
The third day was to be the last of the formal ceremonies. General
Pershing paid the formal and official calls expected of him, had
luncheon with Marshal Joffre and then visited the French Senate. As soon
as he and Ambassador Sharp were discovered in the diplomatic box, every
senator sprang to his feet and the cheering was loud and long--"Vive
l'Amerique!" "Vive l'Pershing!" It almost seemed as if the dignified
senators were determined to make their salvos louder and more genuinely
enthusiastic than any that had yet been heard by the distinguished
visitor. Again and again General Pershing bowed in acknowledgment of his
generous reception.
At last when the senators once more took their seats, Premier Ribot
referred to the presence of the soldier from the United States and
called upon M. Viviani to speak in acknowledgment of the event. Eloquent
as Viviani is known to be, it is said that never had his words been
more expressive or appealing than on this momentous occasion. Repeatedly
he was compelled to pause and wait for the applause to cease before he
was able to continue his address. In his final words he referred to his
own recent visit to the United States and in vivid phrases pictured the
conditions as he had found them there. The ideals of civilization, the
rights of free peoples, the heritage received from sires who had dearly
paid for that which they bequeathed their children were to be defended
and upheld. Savagery, brutality, disregard for national and individual
rights were to be overthrown. Because of the ideals under which the
United States had been reared and the freedom the nation had enjoyed the
people were determined to share in the battle for the same privileges to
be enjoyed by all mankind.
The response of the audience was instantaneous. Leaping to their feet
they shouted, "Vivent les Etats Unis!" "Vive l'Amerique!" "Vive
l'Pershing!" Not until after General Pershing once more arose and again
and again bowed in acknowledgment of the soul stirring tribute to him,
and through him to the nation of which he was a part, was quiet
restored. Even then the Senate unanimously voted a recess of a half-hour
to permit the Senators personally to meet and greet the American
Commander. Antonin Dubost, President of the Senate, escorted General
Pershing through the imposing lobby of the Luxembourg and introduced him
to the members of the Senate, one by one. The occasion served as a
fitting climax to three such days as General Pershing never before had
seen and the world never had known.
Of Pershing's coming to France and of his gracious, quiet manner of
receiving the welcome of Paris, and his dignity that fitted every
occasion, the Paris newspapers, made much. The outstanding quality,
however, appeared to be his simplicity. Georges Clemenceau wrote the
following tribute when the three days of welcome passed:
"Paris has given its final welcome to General
Pershing. We are justified in hoping that the
acclamations of our fellow-citizens, with whom are
mingled crowds of soldiers on leave, have shown
him clearly right at the start in what spirit we
are waging this bloodiest of wars: with what
invincible determination never to falter in any
fiber of our nerves or muscles.
"What does France stand for to-day but the most
striking proof of the perseverance of the French
spirit? I can even say that never was such a
prolongation of such terrible sacrifices demanded
from our people and never was it so simply and so
easily obtained.
"Unless I misjudge America, General Pershing,
fully conscious of the importance of his mission,
has received from the cordial and joyous
enthusiasm of the Parisians that kind of fraternal
encouragement, which is never superfluous, even
when one needs it not. Let him have no doubt that
he, too, has brought encouragement to us, the
whole of France that followed with its eyes his
passage along the boulevards, all our hearts, that
salute his coming in joy at the supreme grandeur
of America's might enrolled under the standard of
right. This idea M. Viviani, just back from
America, splendidly developed in his eloquent
speech to the Chamber in the presence of General
Pershing.
"General Pershing himself, less dramatic, has
given us in three phrases devoid of artificiality
an impression of exceptionally virile force. It
was no rhetoric, but the pure simplicity of the
soldier who is here to act and who fears to
promise more than he will perform. No bad sign
this for those of us who have grown weary of
pompous words, when we must pay so dearly for each
failure of performance.
"Not long ago the Germans laughed at 'the
contemptible English army' and we hear now that
they regard the American army as too ridiculous
for words. Well, the British have taught even
Hindenburg himself what virile force can do toward
filling gaps in organization. Now the arrival of
Pershing brings Hindenburg news that the Americans
are setting to work in their turn--those Americans
whose performance in the war of secession showed
them capable of such 'improvisation' of war as the
world has never seen--and I think the Kaiser must
be beginning to wonder whether he has not trusted
rather blindly in his 'German tribal god.' He has
loosed the lion from its cage, and now finds that
the lion has teeth and claws to rend him.
"The Kaiser had given us but a few weeks in which
to realize that the success of his submarine
campaign would impose the silence of terror on the
human conscience throughout the world. Well,
painful as he must find it, Pershing's arrival in
Paris, with its consequent military action, cannot
fail to prove to him that, after all, the moral
forces he ignored must always be taken into
consideration in forecasting human probabilities.
Those learned Boches have yet to understand that
in the course of his intellectual evolution man
has achieved the setting of moral right above
brute force; that might is taking its stand beside
right to accomplish the greatest revolution in the
history of mankind.
"That is the lesson Pershing's coming has taught
us, and that is why we rejoice."
Another graceful tribute was that of Maurice de Waleffe who wrote:
"'There is no longer any Pyrenees,' said Louis XIV
when he married a Spanish princess. 'There is no
longer an ocean,' Pershing might say with greater
justice as he is about to mingle with ours the
democratic blood of his soldiers. The fusion of
Europe and America is the enormous fact to note.
Henceforth there is but one human race, in the Old
World as in the New, and we can repeat the words
of Goethe at the battle of Valmy: 'From to-day a
new order of things begins.'"
In the evening after his first day of work, at the opera the enthusiasm
of Paris found one more outlet for its admiration of the American
General whose physical strength and bearing, whose poise and kindly
appreciation of his welcome again found expression. The General arrived
at the close of the first act. It was now the turn for the society of
Paris to express itself. The wildest enthusiasm instantly seized upon
the audience as soon as his arrival became known. As he entered his box,
which was draped with the American colors, the orchestra quickly struck
up the national anthem, for the moment drowning even the wild cheering
of the crowded house. The curtain rose and Mme. Richardson, holding
aloft a large American flag as she advanced to the front of the stage,
began in English to sing the Star Spangled Banner. After each stanza the
wild cheering seemed to increase in volume and enthusiasm. Then Mlle.
Marthe Chenal followed and began to sing La Marseillaise. It was now the
turn of the American officers and soldiers present to cheer for France;
and cheer they did. A chorus of soldiers and sailors accompanied each
singer. When General Pershing departed from the opera house the throngs
assembled on the streets joined in another outburst. By this time even
the slowest of Americans must have been fully aware that the French were
glad that the commander of the Army of the United States was in Paris.
The new problem confronting the American General was stupendous. His
recommendations were to be final at Washington. In his duties he was to
have the assistance of Marshal Joffre, whose ability as a soldier and
whose position as the official representative of France would mean much
to General Pershing. The British War Office (May 28, 1917) had said that
including those already serving in French or British armies there
shortly would be 100,000 American soldiers on French soil. Within a year
the number was to exceed 1,000,000 and hundreds of thousands more were
to follow. No such numbers or speed in transporting troops 3,500 miles
had ever been known before. And in France plans must be formed,
organizations made, great buildings must be erected, military measures
must be adopted--and General John Joseph Pershing must be the directing
power. What a task! Small cause for surprise is it that he solemnly said
to a prominent clergyman before his departure from America that he "felt
the need of all the help that could be given him,--human and divine."
Already in France Americans were drilling in preparation for active
fighting. Among these were detachments of college students from Harvard,
Princeton, Yale, University of Chicago, Williams, University of
California, and many other American colleges, but a vast concourse of
men from every class and condition in life in the United States was
making ready to join their fellow soldiers across the sea. From no man
in all the world was more expected than from General Pershing. And the
expectations were resting on strong foundations if the manner in which
he carried himself in the four trying days in London and in the three
days of formal ceremonies in France and then in the beginnings of his
heavy labors in preparing for the demands of Americans who were yet to
come, were indications. By many he was declared to be the
personification of the best type West Point could produce.