customers for herself.  Great Britain’s regulations on the blacklist and “bunker coal” had intensified this feeling.  In both these latter questions Page regarded the British actions as tactless and unjust; he had had many sharp discussions at the Foreign Office concerning them, but had not made much headway in his efforts to obtain their abandonment.  The purpose of the “blacklist” was to strike at neutral firms with German affiliations which were trading with Germany.  The Trading with the Enemy Act provided that such firms could not trade with Great Britain; that British vessels must refuse to accept their cargoes, and that any neutral ship which accepted such cargoes would be denied bunker coal at British ports.  Under this law the Ministry of Blockade issued a “blacklist” of more than 1,000 proscribed exporting houses in the United States.  So great was the indignation against this boycott in the United States that Congress, in early September, had passed a retaliatory act; this gave the President the authority at any time to place an embargo upon the exports to the United States of countries which discriminated against American firms and also to deny clearance to ships which refused to accept American cargoes.  The two countries indeed seemed to be hastening toward a crisis.

Page’s urgent letter to Mr. Wilson brought a telegram from Mr. Tumulty inviting the Ambassador to spend the next evening and night with the President at Shadow Lawn, the seaside house on the New Jersey coast in which Mr. Wilson was spending the summer.  Mr. Wilson received his old friend with great courtesy and listened quietly and with apparent interest to all that he had to say.  The written statement to which Page refers in his letter told the story of Anglo-American relations from the time of the Panama tolls repeal up to the time of Page’s visit to Shadow Lawn.  Quotations have already been made from it in preceding chapters, and the ideas which it contains have abundantly appeared in letters already printed.  The document was an eloquent plea for American cooeperation with the Allies—­for the dismissal of Bernstorff, for the adoption of a manly attitude toward Germany, and for the vindication of a high type of Americanism.

Page showed the President the Lusitania medal, but that did not especially impress him.  “The President said to me,” wrote Page in reference to this visit, “that when the war began he and all the men he met were in hearty sympathy with the Allies; but that now the sentiment toward England had greatly changed.  He saw no one who was not vexed and irritated by the arbitrary English course.  That is, I fear, true—­that he sees no one but has a complaint.  So does the Secretary of State, and the Trade Bureau and all the rest in Washington.  But in Boston, in New York, and in the South and in Auburn, N.Y., I saw no one whose sympathy with the Allies had undergone any fundamental change.  I saw men who felt vexed at such an act as the blacklist, but that was merely vexation, not a fundamental change of feeling.  Of course, there came to see me men who had ‘cases.’  Now these are the only kind of men, I fear, whom the Government at Washington sees—­these and the members of Congress whom the Germans have scared or have ‘put up’ to scare the Government—­who are ‘twisting the lion’s tail,’ in a word.”