Chapter 16

THE SIGNING OF THE PEACE

The great day of the signing of the Peace was drawing near, and I worked hard to get the centre window in the Hall of Mirrors reserved for the artists. In the end, the French authorities sanctioned this. They also promised to do a lot more things which would have made the ceremony much more imposing, but these they did not do. It is a strange thought, but surely true, that the French as a nation seem to take, at present, little interest in pomp and ceremony. The meetings of the delegates at the "Quai d'Orsay," the handing over of the Peace Terms to our late enemies, were all rather rough-and-tumble affairs, and, in the end, the great signing of the Treaty had not as much dignity as a sale at Christie's. How different must the performance have been in 1870! One man, at least, was there who knew the difference--Lord Dunraven, who attended both ceremonies.

I drove out in the morning to Versailles with George Mair and Adam, and we all had lunch at the "Hôtel des Reservoirs." When we started to go to the Palace I found they had yellow Press tickets, by which they were admitted by the side gate nearest the hotel; but I had a white ticket, and had to enter by the main front gate. When I went round towards this gate I found that all the way down the square, and further along the road as far as the eye could see, the route was (p. 117) lined with people, about one hundred deep, with two rows of French cavalry in front. These people had all taken their places, and they would not let me through. I thought for sure I was going to miss the show, and the sweat of nerves broke out on me. By great luck I met a French Captain, to whom I, in my very broken French, explained my plight. He was most kind, took my card, made a way through the crowd, explained and showed my card to the military horsemen, and I was let through. Then the sweat began to run. I found myself about three-quarters of a mile away from the entrance to the Palace, all by myself in this human-sided avenue--thousands of people staring at me. I expected every minute to be arrested. Naturally, no one else entered on foot. They all drove up in their cars. Guards at the gates scanned my dripping face, but not a word was uttered to me, no pass was asked for--nothing!

The marble staircase was most imposing, lined on each side by Municipal Guards, but the Hall of Mirrors was pandemonium, a mass of little humans, all trying to get to different places. In the end I got to the centre window. It was empty. I was the first artist to arrive, and very satisfied I was to have got there safely. Suddenly, up walked a French Colonel, who told me to get out. I showed him my card and told him this was the window reserved for artists. He explained that this had been changed, and that the next window was reserved for them, and led me off there. There I found all the French and American artists huddled together. As soon as the Colonel left, I crept back to the centre window. I was turned back again. This creeping to the centre window and being turned back continued till I spoke to M. (p. 118) Arnavon, who advised me to stop in the artists' window till just before the show started, and then to go to the middle window. Just before the beginning there was great excitement. A stream of secretaries came up the Hall, two carrying chairs, and with them two grubby-looking old men. The chairs were placed in the centre window, and the old chaps sat themselves down. They were country friends of Clemenceau's, and he had said that morning that they were to have the centre window, and that artists could go to--somewhere else. When the proceedings commenced I slipped in behind their chairs, and, except for a glare from "Le Tigre," I was left in peace.

Clemenceau rose and said a few words expressing a desire that the Germans would come forward and sign. Even while he was saying these few words the whole hall was in movement--nothing but little black figures rushing about and crushing each other. Then, amidst a mass of secretaries from the French Foreign Office, the two Germans, Hermann Müller and Doctor Bell, came nervously forward, signed, and were led back to their places. Some guns went off on the terrace--the windows rattled. Everyone looked rather nervous for a moment, and the show was over, except for the signatures of the Allies. These were written without any dignity. People talked and cracked jokes to each other across tables. Lloyd George found a friend on his way up to sign his name, and as he had a story to tell him, the whole show was held up for a bit, but after all, it may have been a good story. All the "frocks" did all their tricks to perfection. President Wilson showed his back teeth; Lloyd George waved his Asquithian mane; Clemenceau whirled his grey-gloved hands about like windmills; Lansing drew his pictures and Mr. Balfour slept. It was all over. The "frocks" had won (p. 119) the war. The "frocks" had signed the Peace! The Army was forgotten. Some dead and forgotten, others maimed and forgotten, others alive and well--but equally forgotten. Yet the sun shone outside my window and the fountains played, and the German Army--what was left of it--was a long, long way from Paris.

After seeing some of the great little black-coated ones leave, amidst great cheering, George Mair, Colonel Stroud Jackson and I went to the aerodrome and saw the Press photographs sent off to the waiting crowds in the British Isles. Then back to Paris. Paris was very calm, not the least excited. I remember Mair gave some of us dinner at Ciro's that night. When the band played the Marseillaise, we stood up on our chairs, held hands and sang and cheered, but no one else moved, so in the end we got down, feeling damned fools. It was all rather sad!

The next great show was the triumphal march through the Arc de Triomphe. It was fine! But it must be admitted that the Americans scored. They had picked men trained for months for this march, and along they came in close formation, wearing steel helmets. It was a fine sight!

But there were great moments when Foch passed, and when Haig passed at the head of his men, and the roars that came from the "Astoria" must have been heard a long way off. The "Astoria" was the hotel reserved by the Kaiser for his friends to witness his triumphal entry into Paris, so we had a good view. He chose well.

I remember during the war, when a "frock" visited some fighting zone, he was always very well looked after and entertained by whatever H.Q. he visited, and I was amazed on this day to find Field-Marshal Lord (p. 120) Haig and General Sir John Davidson lunching alone at the "Majestic." Lord Allenby was also lunching at another table and General Robertson at another. To me it was ununderstandable. These representatives of the dead and the living of the British Army, on the day of its glory, being allowed to lunch alone, much as they might have wished it.

As far as I remember, Lord Derby gave a dinner in their honour that evening, but I am certain the "frocks" did nothing. After all, why should they fuss themselves? The fighting was over. The Army was nothing--harmless! Why should they trouble about these men? Why upset themselves and their pleasures by remembering the little upturned hands on the duckboards, or the bodies lying in the water in the shell-holes, or the hell and bloody damnation of the four years and odd months of war, or the men and their commanders who pulled them through from a bloodier and worse damnation and set them up to dictate a peace for the world?

The war was over, the Germans were a long, long way from the coast or Paris. The whole thing was finished. Why worry now to honour the representatives of the dead, or the maimed, or the blind, or the living that remained? _Why?_ In Heaven's name, _why not_?

I remember one day, during the Peace Conference in the "Astoria," asking a great English General about the delegates and how things were getting on, and he said: "I wish the little 'frocks' would leave it to us--those who fight know best how to make peace. We would not talk so much, but we would get things settled more quickly and better." Surely that was the truth!

INDEX (p. 121)

_(The Arabic figures refer to the pages of the Text; the Roman figures to the Plates.)_

Adam, George, 100, 108, 112, 113, 116. Aikman, Captain T. T., 12, 55. _Albert_, 20, 37, 40, 79, 80, 86; XXXVII. Allenby, General Lord, 120 _Amiens_, 16 ff., 40 ff., 59, 70, 71, 76, 79, 82, 92, 96; XXXV, XL. _Ancre, Valley of the_, 38. Antoine of Bourbon (Prince), 65. _Armentières_, 31. Arnavon, M., 118. _Aveluy_, 39.

_Bailleul_, 33, 95. Balfour, A. J., 100, 105, 119; XLV. _Bapaume_, 20, 70. _Bapaume Road_, 18, 48; II. Baring, Maurice, 19, 29 ff., 50, 69. Barnes, G. N., 109; XCII. _Bazentin-le-Grand_, 20. _Bazentin-le-Petit_, 20. Beatty, Admiral Lord, 107; LXXXIX. _Beaumont-Hamel_, 20, 23, 48. Beaverbrook, Lord, 42, 67, 70, 95. Bedelo, Signor, 56. Belfield, Colonel, 45, 56. Bell, Dr., 118. _Bertangles_, 80, 81. Birdwood, General, 19; LIII. Bloomfield, Major, 50 ff., 86. Borden, Sir Robert, 106; XCVI. Botha, General Louis, 102; XLIV. _Boulogne_, 12, 31, 42, 57, 67, 71. Brickman, Captain, 56. Brooks, Lieutenant, 99. Buchan, Colonel John, 20. Burstall, General, 49; LXXI.

_Cambrai_, 61. Carstairs, Carroll, 46, 61, 87. Carton de Wiart, General, 110; XCIV. _Cassel_, 31 ff., 42 ff., 51 ff., 93; XI, XII, LX, LXXIV. _Caudry_, 90. Charteris, General, 14. _Château Thierry_, 70, 76. Clark, Lieutenant, 38. Clemenceau, M., 76, 100, 103, 110, 118; LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII. _Clermont_, 55. _Corbie_, 37. _Cough-drop, the_, 20, 48. Courage, Ernest, 45, 56, 64. _Courcelette_, 20; LII. Cowans, General Sir J. S., 99; XLII. Currie, General, 49, 67.

Da Costa, Senhor, 106. Dark, Sidney, 100. Davids, Lieutenant A. P. Rhys, 50; XX. Davidson, General Sir John, 63, 72, 120. Derby, Lord, 109, 112, 120; L. _Dieppe_, 35. Dillon, Dr. E. J., 105. _Douai_, 91; XXXVIII. Douglas, Captain, 75. _Doullens_, 96. Du Cane, General Sir J., 77. Dunraven, Lord, 116.

Elles, General, 62; LXXVII. Ellis, Admiral Heaton, 108. _Estre Blanche_, 50.

Fane, Major F., 17, 25. Feisul, Emir, 105; LXXXVII. Fletcher, Colonel, 28, 63, 72. Foch, Marshal, 76 ff.; XXXIII. Forsyth, Dudley, 75. Freeman, Colonel, 29. French, Field-Marshal Lord, 31.

George, Mr. D. Lloyd, 100, 101, 103, 118; LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII. Gibbs, Sir Philip, 32. Glyn, Mrs., 115. _Grandcourt_, 20. Grant, General, 77, 79. Gregory, Robert, 30. _Grévillers_, 19; LIII.

Haig, Field-Marshal Earl, 27, 50, 64, 72, 97, 120; I. Hale, Captain, 18, 56, 64; XXVI. Hankey, Sir Maurice, 113. _Hesdin_, 13, 42, 63. _Highwood_, 20. Hogg, Major, 56. Hoidge, Captain, 50, 51, 86; XXI. Holland, Captain, 76. Hotblack, Major, 62. House, Colonel, 104; LXXXV. Hughes, W. M., 110; XCIII. Hymans, M. Paul, 110; XCV.

Inge, Captain, 56, 64. Inverforth, Lord, 55.

Jackson, Lieut.-Colonel Stroud, 100, 119. Joffroy, M., 39.

Knox, Gordon, 100.

_La Boisselle_, 20, 40, 48, 70; III, XIV, XVIII. Laboreur, M., 26. Lansing, Mr. R., 104, 118; LXXXVI. Lee, Major A. N., 67, 69, 72, 75; XXXII. _Le Havre_, 35, 47. _Le Sars_, 19, 49. Lipsett, Major-General, 49; LXXII. Little, Captain, 30. _Locre_, 95. Lucas, Lord, 29.

MacColl, Captain, 62. McCudden, Major, 53, 69; XXX. McDonnell, Colonel Angus, 90, 98. MacDonough, General, 69. MacDowell, Colonel, 56. Macintosh, Mr., 64. Mahon, Major-General Sir Bryan, 93. Mair, George, 100, 112, 116, 119. Maratray, M. R. D. de, 18, 44; LXIX. Masefield, John, 40, 41. Massey, W. F., 108; XC. Maude, Captain F., 44 ff., 56, 61, 66, 80, 84, 96, 98; XXXV. _Menin Road_, 95. _Miraumont_, 20. _Monchy_, LXXIII. _Montdidier_, 70. _Mont St. Eloy_, 29. Müller, Herr, 118. Munnings, A. J., 65.

_Nieuport_, 31.

O'Connor, Major, 49. Orlando, Signor, 103. Orpen, Captain, 57.

Paderewski, 101. _Paris_, 49, 55, 70, 98. Peace Conference, 98 ff.; LXXXIII. Peace Treaty, 116 ff.; LI. _Péronne_, 20, 37, 70; V, XV. Phillips, Percival, 32. Plumer, General Lord, 93 ff.; XXXIX. _Pozières_, 19, 70; IV.

Rawlinson, General Lord, 80, 81; XXXVI. Read, Mrs., 113. Reading, Lord, 105. Riddell, Lord, 100, 112, 115; XLIX. Riviere, Captain, 98. Robertson, General Sir William, 120. _Roeux_, 28. Rogers, General, 80. _Rollencourt_, 13, 21. _Rouen_, 35.

Sackville-West, General, 107. _St. Denis_, 79; XXXIV. _St. Omer_, 31, 57. _St. Pol_, 26, 67. _St. Quentin_, 90. _St. Valery-sur-Somme_, 72, 75. Sargent, John, 16. Sassoon, Sir Philip, 27, 35, 51, 63. Seely, General, 65, 67; XXVIII. Siongi, Marquis, 100, 108; XLVII. Smuts, General J. C., 108; XCI. _Soissons_, 70, 76. _Somme, the_, 16 ff. Stevens, Captain, 98. Strang, Ian, 67. Stuart, General, 90. Sykes, General, 106.

_Thiepval_, 20, 36 ff.; LXV, LXVI, LXVII. Thomas, Beach, 32. Trafford, Captain Rudolf de, 64, 72. Trenchard, Air-Marshal Sir H. M., 29, 50, 52; IX. Tyl, Colonel du, 80; XXXV.

_Vaux_, 79. Venezelos, M. E., 105; LXXXVIII. _Villers-Bretonneux_, 70, 76. _Villers-Carbonelle_, 81.

_Warlencourt, Butte de_, 19, 49; XIX, LXX. Watson, General, 49. Wester Wemyss, Admiral Lord, 104; LXXXIV. Weygand, General, 77. Williams, Brigadier-General Dame Vaughan, 82. Wilson, Field-Marshal Sir Henry, 102, 112; XLIII. Wilson, President, 100, 103, 104, 106, 107, 118; XLVI, LI, LXXXII, LXXXIII. Woodcock, Colonel, 45, 56.

_Ypres Salient_, 31 ff., 95.

_Zillebeke_, 89. _Zonnebeke_, 95.

End of Project Gutenberg's An Onlooker in France 1917-1919, by William Orpen