My Impressions of America

I was entertained the next day at a private luncheon given by a ladies' club and was glad to be sitting next to dear Mrs. Moore. Observing a single gentleman seated among the company I asked in a whisper who he was; upon being told he was a reporter I said, in an aside to my other neighbour, that for the rest of the meal I would confine my remarks to: "Yes," "No," or "I wonder!" and "How true!" Upon this the unfortunate young man was conducted from the room. He had a peculiarly charming face and when I saw what had happened I said I was afraid I also would have to leave the table, as I could not allow any guest to be insulted for my sake; at which he was allowed to return. I apologised to him, saying that though I had imagined this to be an informal gathering at which no newspapers would be represented, I did not wish him to be treated with any lack of courtesy, and hoped he would not make copy out of any foolish thing I might have said. He was particularly nice and, although I shall probably never see what he has written about me, I am willing to "take a chance" – as they express it over here.

After signing my name twenty-three times – as flattering as it was fatiguing – the Mayor came to fetch me away. Mrs. Moore and two other ladies accompanied us on a motor drive to see the city. The Mayor – who is a big man – sat rather uncomfortably between me and Mrs. Moore, and said that, with the permission of the other two ladies he proposed to put his arm round my waist as, being engaged to speak at a meeting of the Boy Scouts, he would be unable to attend my lecture in the evening. I told him that, after this, nothing but bribery and corruption could re-elect him as the Mayor of St. Louis.

"Then I shall return to my original occupation, Mrs. Asquith; I started life as a bricklayer, and I have not forgotten my trade, at which I am unrivalled."

The ladies said he was much more likely to be returned as their political representative, and after asking "Joe," his chauffeur, to stop and enable him to buy me cigarettes, he took me back to the hotel.

I found a beautiful bouquet of orchids on my table to which was pinned a card from one of the ladies whom I had met at lunch:

"From Mrs. Hocker, with best wishes for a successful evening at St. Louis, to absolutely the most brilliant and interesting woman it has been my privilege to meet either in America or Europe."

I need hardly say that I clung to my bouquet that evening when I was escorted upon the stage by Judge Henry Caulfield, the City Counsellor.

Mr. Anderson of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch returned to talk to us after the meeting, and I can truly say that after "Bruce" – whose real name I never discovered – I found him the most interesting press-man that I have met. I wrote to his editor congratulating him on having such a man upon his staff, and received a grateful reply.

Never having been interviewed till I arrived in this country, I do not know in what way reporters of intellect here would compare with ours, but it passes my comprehension to understand why those that I have met are content to write for papers that seldom print what is either informing or interesting.

One of them said to me:

"We do not publish news, Mrs. Asquith, we concoct it."

XIII: KANSAS CITY AND OMAHA

XIII.

KANSAS CITY AND OMAHA

AMERICAN VOICES RARELY MUSICAL – SEES LOVELY COUNTRY HOME – DISCUSSION ON CHARACTER BUILDING – MARGOT PREDICTS GREAT FUTURE FOR GOVERNOR ALLEN

WE travelled to Kansas City the night of the lecture and were met upon our arrival and taken to the country house of Mrs. Edwin Shields.

After greeting her, I observed her fine tapestries, oriental china, portraits (by Sir Joshua Reynolds), and other old masters, as well as modern French pictures. We ate porridge, eggs and bacon and grapefruit for breakfast, off an oak table with Irish linen napkins, and I observed the refinement of my hostess's little face, and the pretty quality of her voice.

I do not think the voices here are generally musical; they are nasal and a little loud and, though Americans have a great deal of geniality and love of fun, I am so slow at picking up the language, that I probably miss much of the irony and finesse that characterises our better kind of humour. The Canadians, who are of British stock, have a better sense of humour; but it is always a dangerous subject to write about, and when I remember the stupid things that evoke the laughter of the London public in our theatres, I feel I had better walk warily.

I am Scotch, and as a nation we have been accused of lack of humour; I cannot be expected to agree with this, nevertheless I remember being told in my youth of a man who had said:

"Oh! aye; Jock undoubtedly jokes, but he jokes with facility. I joke too, but with difficulty."

The French have a far finer sense of humour than any other nation in the world, and all they say is a constant source of delight to me.

It is pardonable not to laugh at what is amusing, but sudden guffaws at bad jokes is the test of a true sense of humour.

After breakfasting with Mrs. Shields I asked her to show me over her beautiful house. I was reminded of Glen by the freshness of the chintzes, and general feeling of air and comfort which I saw wherever I went.

We started at midday for Omaha, where we arrived in the evening. I felt less sad at parting with my hostess as I knew I was going to spend from 7 a.m. till midnight with her on the 24th. She is coming to Europe this summer where I shall look forward to entertaining her in London, as well as in the country.

After leaving her, Mr. Horton told me she had said to him that till she met me, she felt like a flower that had grown on clay soil, and that I had helped her to break into the sunlight. I was deeply touched, and am encouraged to hope that some day I may be worthy of so rare a compliment.

Upon our arrival at Omaha we were met by an open motor lent by Mrs. Kountze, who had invited us to stay with her in her town house, but fearing that three of us might be embarrassing, we decided to go to the hotel.

Omaha is a lovely city, with avenues of trees on either side of wide boulevards, and within easy reach of stretches of wild and beautiful country. As our hostess had been obliged to go to New York, her kind relations conducted us to see the wonderful views surrounding the town.

After speaking in the afternoon to an encouraging audience, with Mr. Hall, the British Consul, as my chairman, I dined with Mr. and Mrs. Ward Burgess. They were more than hospitable, and had it not been for the severe figure of my secretary standing in the doorway, my jolly host, who had entertained me for two hours at dinner, would have prevented me from catching the midnight train.

We returned to Kansas City early on the morning of the 24th.

On being informed by Mrs. Shields's butler that her maid had already called her, I had a bath and, dressing as quickly as I could, went downstairs.

Her sitting room was a garden of roses, lilies and antirrhinums and I shall always remember our unforgettable tête-à-tête.

We started upon personality, and the difficulty of expressing what was true without hurting anyone, or acquiring character without becoming a character part. The difference between originality and eccentricity; kindness and tenderness; sympathy and understanding; and the delicate grades by which your attempts at goodness may either help or hamper your fellow creatures.

It is an eternal problem; and the morally lenient and socially severe is what you encounter every day of your life. I confessed how much I resented the shortness of life and urged her to realise this, as she appeared to me, in spite of having a genius for friendship, to be self-contained and lonely. She was responsive, and said many encouraging things to me. I said that somewhere or other I had read that Marcus Aurelius had begged us to keep our colour. I was not very sure of the correct text; but that the idea was that some of us were born red, some yellow, and others grey, but that however this might be, the point was to keep it; not so much by contrast or conflict with the other person, but to complement it. Great scientists, mathematicians or philosophers may manage to develop their personality alone, but what they write will not have the key that the writings of men who are nearer the earth are able to present to ordinary human beings.

At one of Abraham Lincoln's great meetings, he had to walk through the crowd to reach the platform. He heard someone say as he passed:

"Is that President Lincoln? Why, what a common-looking fellow!"

At which he turned round and said:

"God likes common-looking fellows or he would not have made so many of them."

I told her how much I had been moved by her remark to my secretary that our friendship would help her to emerge out of clay soil; adding that the desire of my life was to replant myself in a bigger pot every year, and that what she had said would encourage me to go on. After a certain age we were liable to become stationary; and the ravages of war so far from having regenerated, had retarded civilisation.

We were interrupted by Mr. Henry J. Allen, a guest who arrived long before the luncheon hour.

The Governor of the State of Kansas is a man of authority – not only intelligent but intellectual, always a rare combination, and it needs no witch to predict a great future for him. He remained at Mrs. Shields's lovely house in Cherry Street from 11.30 till 6 in the evening, in spite of having an appointment at 4, by which I inferred he could do what he liked.

XIV: THE WAR AND PROHIBITION

XIV.

THE WAR AND PROHIBITION

HEATED DISCUSSION ON ENGLAND'S ENTRY INTO THE WAR – OUR GERMAN FRIENDS – AMERICAN VITALITY – MISQUOTED ON PROHIBITION

I sat next to Mr. Heath Moore at lunch and discussed many subjects; among others, the motives that had brought Great Britain into the war. He expressed himself with vigour and frankness, and said that nothing would induce him to believe that our purpose had been moral. That our trade was in danger of being out-rivalled, and the German navy had developed into such a formidable menace, that after France had been defeated, our own shores would have been immediately attacked by the Germans; it was therefore humbug to suggest that our motive had not been one of pure self defence.

As this was the first anti-British note that I had heard since my arrival, it interested me.

I asked him where he imagined our ships would be when the German dreadnoughts sailed into our harbours: and what sort of reception the British people were likely to give the enemy crew, even supposing it could land an army – never a very easy matter – and concluded by saying I had not been kept awake by the fear that the Kaiser would succeed where Napoleon had failed. He stuck to his point and said that but for the violation of Belgium we would not have entered into the war. I answered that no doubt this had made it easier for the party in power – of which my husband was the head – because among the many convictions that divide Liberals from Conservatives is that we believe in freedom, while they believe in force: and that imperialism meant militarism against which we would fight for ever. But, I added, no British Government of whatever party would have watched with folded arms the whole German navy sail down our coast to attack France.

He inquired if my husband had felt any qualms when he took upon his shoulders this great decision. I answered that our Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward now Lord Grey, Lord Crewe, and others, had made up their minds from the first moment; and that in one year – thanks to the Committee of Defence, Lord Haldane and Lord Kitchener – we had produced a large voluntary army; and had he been in England at the time, he would have been struck by the pathos and silence with which men of every class joined up to fight in a war which was not their own, against a foe for whom they felt no hatred.

He asked if England had been disappointed that America had come in so late to help her, I confessed that in a moment of pique I had exclaimed that had I been Christopher Columbus I would have said nothing about the discovery, but that I doubted if Great Britain would have come in any earlier to help the United States had they been in a similar quandary.

Someone asked me privately if I had lost a child in the war. I said that my little boy had been too young to fight, but that both my sisters, my three brothers and my husband had lost their sons; that living in Downing Street in the first years of the war had been an anguish, the depth of which no one could realise.

We had refused to drop any of our German friends in London, and in consequence became targets for the abuse and calumny of our social and political enemies.

It is a subject that rouses me to undying indignation when I remember the manner in which we were persecuted, not only by our opponents, but by some of my personal friends even after we had been defeated in the General Election of 1918. One of the candidates said that she had often been to Downing Street on matters of vital importance during the war and had been struck by the lack of feeling shown by myself and my husband.

Mr. Heath Moore gave me an account of the savage manner with which the German population over here had been treated when America joined the Allies. He told me among other things, that one of his fellow-countrymen in a great recruiting speech had been interrupted by a man in the gallery who was understood to have shouted: "Hurrah for the Kaiser!" At which he was kicked and beaten down the stairs to the street and, but for the intervention of a policeman, would have been killed. When asked what he had done, the unfortunate German said his only son had been killed in the war and that he had shouted: "To hell with the Kaiser!"

This was mild compared to some of the cruelties related.

It is always dangerous to generalise, but the American people, while infinitely generous, are a hard and strong race and, but for the few cemeteries I have seen, I am inclined to think they never die. They thrive in rooms as hot as conservatories, can sit up all night, eat candy and ice-cream all day, and live to a great age upon either social or commercial excitement without leisure.

When I left the room to rest and think over my lecture, I was afraid I had not shown sufficient consideration to Mr. Heath Moore or his opinions, so that I was relieved on being informed that he had proposed himself to return to dinner the same evening. I hope we shall meet each other again, as he is a man of compassion.

I lectured after dinner, and before I had finished I fixed my eyes upon Mr. Heath Moore sitting next to Mrs. Shields and spoke of the moral motives that had made Great Britain enter into the war, apart from her friendship with France. I said that while the French had sacrificed everything and fought magnificently, other countries had been animated by the same motives, and in the end it had been won by a League of Nations.

I dwelt at length upon the cruelty with which the Germans had been treated in the United States and at home, and was cheered when I said that had Christ come down among the civilian population at any time during the war His sense of justice and compassion would have earned for Him the title of pro-German.

We went back to Cherry Street before taking the midnight train.

I was introduced to several people of the City of Kansas at supper, all of whom I found interesting. One man said to me:

"I knew you had charm and personality, Mrs. Asquith, but you must have spoken on a hundred platforms to have acquired such courage and eloquence."

I gazed at him dumb with surprise.

When I left I promised to write to my hostess and Mr. Moore.

* * * * * * *

We changed at St. Louis, on our way to Indianapolis, and were met there at 7 a.m. the next morning by Mr. Paul Anderson; we all had breakfast at the station together, and I was sorry to say good-bye to him.

I read quoted from a London paper that Mr. Balfour – the greatest living Commoner – had been made a Knight of the Garter.

We were met upon our arrival in the afternoon at Indianapolis by Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, and accompanied to their house by a reporter, I was surprised to see in the papers next day that I had said among other things that in Scotland we were not only highly educated, but able to study in our schools both the French and Spanish languages, and were I the Queen of America I would restore drink.

I began to fear that, though uncrowned, I must have in a fit of absence usurped some of the powers I had indicated ought to be restored to the United States.

After travelling all day on the 26th, we arrived in sousing rain at night to hear there were no porters at the station. On enquiring if they were on strike, I was told that there never had been any porters at Kalamazoo.

Loaded with luggage, we paddled like ducks in the mud to an inferior hotel.

As we had lunched at midday and there was no dining car on the train, we were annoyed to hear that no one could get any food after 8.30 p.m., but luckily for us there were still ten minutes before the restaurant closed, so we devoured what we could. On the next day I was told by reporters and other people that an eminent divine had said in a sermon that, thanks to my belief in intemperance, I was not a fit and proper person to give a lecture, and in consequence, my audience of the evening was not all that I could have desired. I had something to say about bearing false witness against your neighbour, but the few that were there were more than enthusiastic, and I was embraced by a woman from Peebleshire.

I was grateful to have the following cutting posted to me:

"Can't stand the Tone of a Morning Contemporary in Reporting Mrs. Asquith's Address,

"Editor, Evening Telegram:

"Sir, – I am a busy man, and have not much time to write letters, but I can't stand the sneering, cheap remarks of the Globe in their account of Mrs. Asquith's summing up of 'prohibition.'

"Mrs. Asquith did not give stories of a 'vulgar nature,' 'depicting an individual half-stupid with drink.' Note the hard Pharisaical way in which they gloat over the word 'drink.' Reminds me of the cheap old-fashioned 'temperance' poems. Mrs. Asquith quite properly and honestly called attention to the farce of prohibition laws, and merely voiced the opinion of ninety per cent of all honest people when she decried the unjust and unconstitutional 'blue laws' which the bigoted and ignorant minority of the Canadian and American people are trying to enact and enforce on the unwilling majorities – the real taxpayers.

"Would to goodness we had more such women, fearlessly candid, broadminded, and un-hypocritical like the same Margot Asquith. England, with all her faults, will never pander to the few fanatics who are the real oppressors, depressors and joy-killers.

"F. J. Paget."

XV: NEW YORK IDEAL CITY

XII.

NEW YORK IDEAL CITY

LIFE AND AIR AND GAIETY IN NEW YORK – LETTER FROM GOVERNOR ALLEN – MARGOT MEETS ARTHUR BRISBANE – PRINCESS BIBESCO'S BOOK

AFTER travelling two days and a night we arrived in New York on the evening of the 28th to find Elizabeth and her husband waiting for the elevator to take them to a play; they were ready to throw this over but I told them I was too exhausted to talk and only longed to get to bed.

I have not been to San Francisco, but if I were an American I would live in New York City. St. Louis, Syracuse, Omaha, Washington, are more beautiful because of their environment; but there is life in the air, and a general atmosphere of gaiety and movement which I find infinitely stimulating in New York.

We saw "The Truth about Blayds" and "Kiki," two plays that were wonderfully acted; I enjoyed every moment of "Blayds," and the heroine of "Kiki" would make her fortune in any play.

On Sunday the 2nd of April I went to tea at the studio of my friend Mrs. Komroff. I have known her for many years, when she was Nellie Barnard, and I do not believe there is any artist living who can paint children in water-colour in the manner she does. The room was crowded with friends and artists and the portraits that were displayed filled us with admiration.

Together with many letters from home I received the following from Governor Allen.

"State of Kansas"Office of the Governor"Topeka"March 30, 1922

"The Governor.

"My dear Mrs. Asquith,

"I am taking the liberty of sending you a copy of my book on the industrial question. I hope you will forgive me for intruding it upon you. I have so many delightful recollections of the keen and instructive things you said at Mrs. Shields's house that I now find myself full of regret that the conversation continually drifted into general discussions which robbed us all of an opportunity to hear more of your own conclusions.

"Your generous comment upon Kansas City and the west has made us all happy and as a citizen I want to express my hearty appreciation of your compliments to this growing section of the country.

"I do not wonder that you drew from my remarks the conclusion that I am 'illiberal.' I was stupid not to realise that your definition of the word liberal is different from that which characterises it out here just now. In your world, 'liberal' is an honourable word. Over here it has come through misuse to denote a peculiar class whose reaction is antigovernment. The anarchist, the socialist, the communist and the bolshevist are all put down in one class, and the word liberal is thundered at them by orators and editors. It isn't fair to the word.

"If you have time, I'd be awfully glad if you would look over 'The Party of the Third Part,' because it relates to a program of industrial peace and justice which the President has recently indorsed in a message to Congress and which New York is now trying to write into her state legislation. Doubtless if the law is held to be constitutional by the Supreme Court of the United States several States in the forthcoming legislative sessions will adopt the principle of impartial adjudication of labor quarrels when those quarrels occur in the essential industries of food, fuel, clothing and transportation.

"I am sincerely glad you came to the middle west and I am grateful to Mrs. Shields for the delightful privilege of meeting you. I hope you will have a safe and happy voyage and that some day you will come back to America.

"Yours sincerely,"Henry J. Allen."

I was proud and pleased to sit to Baron Meyer one morning, the greatest photographer that ever lived – poor praise for an artist who can express himself in whatever he touches. If I die on the Mauretania going home, – which is more than likely as the sea seldom forgives bad sailors – I am certain of leaving something to my family that they can look at without repugnance.

On the 3rd of April we read in the papers "Balfour accepts Peerage: will enter Lords as Earl."

We were entertained at lunch by Mr. Arthur Brisbane, a famous journalist and friend of Elizabeth's. I sat between him and Mr. Hapgood and had an excellent conversation. They both spoke in high praise of "I Have Only Myself to Blame." In connection with this I will quote an American review out of the New Republic.

MODERN LOVE

"'I Have Only Myself to Blame,' by Elizabeth Bibesco.

"This book is a collection of pictorial sketches and stories. Its field is restricted. It isn't about life in general. It leaves out religion and science, and illness and wars, animals and politics, and business, and children, and crime. It's only about lovers and loving.

"It is an unsettling book. Just as you have privately made up your mind, perhaps, to be sensible, and be satisfied with what you have – or haven't – and to forget about a oneness with somebody, and are feeling rich enough with much less, this book tells you a story which reaches into some inner part of you that was getting dried up, and makes you feel painfully aware of the things you are missing.

"Here for instance is part of a letter that one woman writes:

"'In a way I don't see why you should ever want to kiss me again. Do you understand what I mean, that I feel so merged, so eternally in your arms that I can hardly believe in the process of being taken into them again and again? Oh my dear, do you notice how one never can use superlatives when they really would mean something? They seem to slink away ashamed of their loose lives. After all we can't "make love" to one another. We both do it too well. This is not an incident, a game, an art; ours is not a love affair, it is life.'