The sensations of most Americans in London during this crisis are almost indescribable.  Washington’s failure promptly to meet the situation affected them with astonishment and humiliation.  Colonel House was confident that war was impending, and for this reason he hurried his preparations to leave England; he wished to be in the United States, at the President’s side, when the declaration was made.  With this feeling about Mr. Wilson, Colonel House received a fearful shock a day or two after the Lusitania had gone down:  while walking in Piccadilly, he caught a glimpse of one of the famous sandwich men, bearing a poster of an afternoon newspaper.  This glaring broadside bore the following legend:  “We are too proud to fight—­Woodrow Wilson.”  The sight of that placard was Colonel House’s first intimation that the President might not act vigorously.  He made no attempt to conceal from Page and other important men at the American Embassy the shock which it had given him.  Soon the whole of England was ringing with these six words; the newspapers were filled with stinging editorials and cartoons, and the music halls found in the Wilsonian phrase materials for their choicest jibes.  Even in more serious quarters America was the subject of the most severe denunciation.  No one felt these strictures more poignantly than President Wilson’s closest confidant.  A day or two before sailing home he came into the Embassy greatly depressed at the prevailing revulsion against the United States.  “I feel,” Colonel House said to Page, “as though I had been given a kick at every lamp post coming down Constitution Hill.”  A day or two afterward Colonel House sailed for America.

II

And now came the period of distress and of disillusionment.  Three Lusitania notes were sent and were evasively answered, and Washington still seemed to be marking time.  The one event in this exciting period which gave Page satisfaction was Mr. Bryan’s resignation as Secretary of State.  For Mr. Bryan personally Page had a certain fondness, but as head of the State Department the Nebraska orator had been a cause of endless vexation.  Many of Page’s letters, already printed, bear evidence of the utter demoralization which existed in this branch of the Administration and this demoralization became especially glaring during the Lusitania crisis.  No attempt was made even at this momentous period to keep the London Embassy informed as to what was taking place in Washington; Page’s letters and cablegrams were, for the most part, unacknowledged and unanswered, and the American Ambassador was frequently obliged to obtain his information about the state of feeling in Washington from Sir Edward Grey.  It must be said, in justice to Mr. Bryan, that this carelessness was nothing particularly new, for it had worried many ambassadors before Page.  Readers of Charles Francis Adams’s correspondence meet with the same complaints during the Civil War; even at the time of the Trent crisis, when for a fortnight Great Britain and the United States were living on the brink of war, Adams was kept entirely in the dark about the plans of Washington[2].  The letters of John Hay show a similar condition during his brief ambassadorship to Great Britain in 1897-1898[3].