A hurried picture of the events of the next seven days is given in the following letter to the President: 

     To the President
     London, Sunday, August 9, 1914.

     DEAR MR. PRESIDENT: 

God save us!  What a week it has been!  Last Sunday I was down here at the cottage I have taken for the summer—­an hour out of London—­uneasy because of the apparent danger and of what Sir Edward Grey had told me.  During the day people began to go to the Embassy, but not in great numbers—­merely to ask what they should do in case of war.  The Secretary whom I had left in charge on Sunday telephoned me every few hours and laughingly told funny experiences with nervous women who came in and asked absurd questions.  Of course, we all knew the grave danger that war might come but nobody could by the wildest imagination guess at what awaited us.  On Monday I was at the Embassy earlier than I think I had ever been there before and every member of the staff was already on duty.  Before breakfast time the place was filled-packed—­like sardines.  This was two days before war was declared.  There was no chance to talk to individuals, such was the jam.  I got on a chair and explained that I had already telegraphed to Washington—­on Saturday—­suggesting the sending of money and ships, and asking them to be patient.  I made a speech to them several times during the day, and kept the Secretaries doing so at intervals.  More than 2,000 Americans crowded into those offices (which are not large) that day.  We were kept there till two o’clock in the morning.  The Embassy has not been closed since.

Mr. Kent of the Bankers Trust Company in New York volunteered to form an American Citizens’ Relief Committee.  He and other men of experience and influence organized themselves at the Savoy Hotel.  The hotel gave the use of nearly a whole floor.  They organized themselves quickly and admirably and got information about steamships and currency, etc.  We began to send callers at the Embassy to this Committee for such information.  The banks were all closed for four days.  These men got money enough—­put it up themselves and used their English banking friends for help—­to relieve all cases of actual want of cash that came to them.  Tuesday the crowd at the Embassy was still great but smaller.  The big space at the Savoy Hotel gave them room to talk to one another and to get relief for immediate needs.  By that time I had accepted the volunteer services of five or six men to help us explain to the people—­and they have all worked manfully day and night.  We now have an orderly organization at four places:  The Embassy, the Consul-General’s Office, the Savoy, and the American Society in London, and everything is going well.  Those two first days, there was, of course, great confusion.  Crazy men and weeping women were imploring and cursing and demanding—­God knows it was bedlam turned loose.  I have been called a man of