Berg shook his head.

"Not yet."

If General Wood had been able to hurl his army forward in a desperate charge at this moment of German demoralisation it is possible we might have gained a victory, but the risks were too heavy. The American forces were greatly outnumbered and to send them into those chlorine-swept areas was to bring the enemy's fate upon them. Wood must hold his men upon the heights until our artillery and poison gas attack had practically won the day. Then a final charge might clinch matters--that was the plan, but it worked out differently, for, after their first demoralisation, the enemy learned to avoid the descending danger by running from it. They could avoid the slowly spreading chlorine clouds by seeking higher ground and, presently, they regained a great measure of their confidence and courage and swept forward in furious fresh attacks.

Even so the Americans fought for hours with every advantage and our artillery did frightful execution. At three o'clock I sent off a cable to the _Times_ that General Wood's prospects were excellent, but at half-past four our supply of liquid chlorine was exhausted and news came from Niagara Falls that a German spy on Grand Island had blown up the great chlorine supply tank containing 20,000 tons. And the Niagara power-plants had been wrecked by dynamite.

Still the Americans fought on gallantly, desperately, knowing that everything was at stake, and our aeroplanes, with their batteries of machine guns, gave effective a.s.sistance. Superiority in numbers, however, soon made itself felt and at five o'clock the Germans, relieved from the chlorine menace, advanced their heavy artillery and began a terrific bombardment of our trenches.

"h.e.l.lo!" exclaimed Berg suddenly. "What's that coming?"

He pointed to the northeast, where we made out a group of swiftly approaching aeroplanes, flying in irregular order. We watched them alight safely near General Wood's headquarters, all but one marked "Women of 1915," which was. .h.i.t by an anti-aircraft gun, as it came to earth, and settled down with a broken wing and some injuries to the pilot, Miss Ethel Barrymore, and the observer, Mrs. Charles S. Whitman, wife of Senator Whitman.

This was but one demonstration of the heroism of our women. Thousands had volunteered their services as soon as the war broke out and many, finding that public sentiment was against having women in the ranks, learned to fly and to operate radio apparatus and were admitted in these branches of the service. Among the women who volunteered were hundreds of members of the Women's Section of the Movement for National Preparedness, including members of the Council of Women, Daughters of American Revolution, Ladies of the G. A. R. (National and Empire State), United Daughters of the Confederacy, a.s.sociation Opposed to Woman's Suffrage, Civic Federation Woman's Department, Society United States Daughters of 1812, Woman's Rivers and Harbors Congress, Congress of Mothers, Daughters of Cincinnati, Daughters of the Union, Daughters of the Revolution, and National Special Aid Society.

These organisations of American women not only supplied a number of skilled aeroplane pilots, but they were of material help in strengthening the fighting forces, as well as in general relief work.

As the shadows of night approached we were startled by the sudden sweep across the sky of a broad yellow searchlight beam, lifted and lowered repeatedly, while a shower of Roman candles added vehemence to the signal.

"Something has happened. They've brought important news," cried my friend, whereupon we hurried to headquarters and identified most of the machines as separate units in Rear Admiral Peary's aero-radio system of coast defence, while two of them, piloted by Ralph Pulitzer (wounded) and W. K. Vanderbilt, belonged to Emerson McMillin's reefing-wings scouting squadron.

We listened eagerly to the reports of pilots and gunners from these machines, Marion McMillin, W. Redmond Cross, Harry Payne Whitney (wounded), William Ziegler, Jr., Alexander Blair Thaw, W. Averill Harriman, Edwin Gould, Jr. (wounded), and learned that a powerful fleet of enemy aircraft, at least 500, had been sighted over Chesapeake Bay and were flying swiftly to the support of the Germans. These aeroplanes had started from a base near Atlantic City and would arrive within half an hour.

A council of war was held immediately and, acting on the advice of aeroplane experts, General Wood ordered the withdrawal of our land and air forces. It would be madness to attempt further resistance. Our army was hopelessly outnumbered, our chlorine supply was gone, our air fleet, after flying all day, was running short of gasoline and its weary pilots were in no condition to withstand the attack of a fresh German fleet. At all costs we must save our aeroplanes, for without them the little remnant of our army would be blind.

This was the beginning of the end. We had done our best and failed. At six o'clock orders were given that the whole American army prepare for a night retreat into the remote fastnesses of the Blue Ridge Mountains. We had made our last stand east of the Alleghenies and fell back heavy-hearted, leaving the invaders in full possession of our Atlantic seaboard.

CHAPTER XXI

THE AWAKENING OF AMERICA

There followed dark days for America. Washington was taken by the enemy, but not until our important prisoners, the Crown Prince and von Hindenburg, had been hurried to Chicago. Baltimore was taken. Everything from Maine to Florida and all the Gulf ports were taken.

Add to this a widespread spirit of disorder and disunion, strikes and rioting in many cities, dynamite outrages, violent addresses of demagogues and labour leaders, pleas for peace at any price by misguided fanatics who were ready to reap the whirlwind they had sown. These were days when men of brain and courage, patriots of the nation with the spirit of '76 in them, almost despaired of the future.

Through all this storm and darkness, amid dissension and violence, one man stood firm for the right, one wise big-souled man, the President of the United States. In a clamour of tongues he heard the still small voice within and laboured prodigiously to build up unity and save the nation.

Like Lincoln, he was loved and honoured even by his enemies.

It was my privilege to hear the great speech which the President of the United States delivered in Chicago, November 29, 1921, a date which Theodore Roosevelt has called the most memorable in American history. The immense auditorium on the lake front, where once were the Michigan Central tracks, was packed to suffocation. It is estimated that 40,000 men and women, representing every state and organisation in the Union, heard this impa.s.sioned appeal for the nation, that will live in American history along with Lincoln's Gettysburg address.

The President spoke first and did not remain to hear the other orators, as he was leaving for Milwaukee, where he hoped to relieve a dangerous, almost a revolutionary situation. He had been urged not to set foot in this breeding place of sedition, but he replied that the citizens of Milwaukee were his fellow countrymen, his brothers. They were dear to him. They needed him. And he would not fail them.

In spite of this stirring cry from the heart, the audience seemed but mildly affected and allowed the President to depart with only perfunctory applause. There was no sign of success for his plea that the nation rouse itself from its lethargy and send its sons unselfishly in voluntary enlistment to drive the enemy from our sh.o.r.es. And there were resentful murmurs when the President warned his hearers that compulsory military service might be inevitable.

"Why shall the poor give their lives to save the rich?" answered Charles Edward Russell, speaking for the socialists. "What have the rich ever done for the poor except to exploit them and oppress them? Why should the proletariat worry about the frontiers between nations? It's only a question which tyrant has his heel on our necks. No! The labouring men of America ask you to settle for them and for their children the frontiers between poverty and riches. That's what they're ready to fight for, a fair division of the products of toil, and, by G.o.d, they're going to have it!"

One feature of the evening was a stirring address by the beautiful Countess of Warwick, prominent in the feminist movement, who had come over from England to speak for the Women's World Peace Federation.

"Women of America," said the Countess, "I appeal to you to save this nation from further horrors of bloodshed. Rise up in the might of your love and your womanhood and end this wholesale murder. Remember the great war in Europe! What did it accomplish? Nothing except to fill millions of graves with brave sons and beloved husbands. Nothing except to darken millions of homes with sorrow. Nothing except to spread ruin and desolation everywhere. Are you going to allow this ghastly business to be repeated here?

"Women of America, I bring you greetings from the women of England, the women of France, the women of Germany, who have joined this great pacifist movement and whose voices sounding by millions can no longer be stifled. Let the men hear and heed our cry. We say to them: 'Stop! Our rights on this earth equal yours. We gave you birth, we fed you at the breast, we guarded your tender years, and we notify you now that you shall no longer kill and maim our husbands, our sons, our fathers, our brothers, our lovers. It is in the power of women to drive war's h.e.l.l from the earth and, whatever the cost, we are going to do it.'"

"No! No!" came a tumult of cries from all parts of the hall.

"We believe in fighting to the last for our national existence,"

cried Mrs. John A. Logan, waving her hand, whereupon hundreds of women patriots, Daughters of the American Revolution, suffrage and anti-suffrage leaders, members of the Navy League, Red Cross workers, sprang to their feet and screamed their enthusiasm for righteous war.

Among these I recognised Mrs. John A. Logan, Miss Mabel Boardman, Mrs.

Lindon Bates, Mrs. Mary S. Lockwood, Mrs. Seymour L. Cromwell, Miss Alice Hill Chittenden, Mrs. Oliver Herford, Mrs. Hobart Chatfield-Taylor, Mrs.

John Temple Graves, Mrs. Edwin Gould, Mrs. George Dewey, Mrs. William c.u.mming Story, Mrs. George Harvey, Mrs. Thomas A. Edison, Mrs. William C.

Potter, Miss Marie Van Vorst, Mrs. Arthur M. Dodge, Mrs. George J. Gould, Mrs. T. J. Oakley Rhinelander, Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, Mrs. John Jacob Astor, Mrs. Peter Cooper Hewitt, Mrs. M. Orme Wilson, Mrs. Simon Baruch, Mrs. Oliver Herford, Mrs. Wm. Reynolds Brown, and Mrs. Douglas Robinson.

When this storm had subsided, Henry Ford rose to renew the pacifist attack.

"It shocks and grieves me," he began, "to find American women openly advocating the killing of human beings."

"Where would your business be," yelled a voice in the gallery, "if George Washington hadn't fought the War of the Revolution?"

This sally called forth such frantic cheers that Mr. Ford was unable to make himself heard and sat down in confusion.

Other speakers were Jane Addams, Hudson Maxim, Bernard Ridder and William Jennings Bryan. The audience sat listless as the old arguments and recriminations, the old facts and fallacies, were laid before them. Like the nation, they seemed plunged in a stupor of indifference. They were asleep.

Then suddenly fell the bomb from heaven. It was during the mild applause following Mr. Bryan's pacifist appeal, that I had a premonition of some momentous happening. I was in the press gallery quite near to Theodore Roosevelt, the next speaker, who was seated at the end of the platform, busy with his notes, when a messenger came out from behind the stage and handed the Colonel a telegram. As he read it I saw a startling change.

Roosevelt put aside his notes and a strange tense look came into his eyes and, presently, when he rose to speak, I saw that his usually ruddy face was ashen grey.

As Roosevelt rose, another messenger thrust a wet, ink-stained newspaper into his hand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, and in his first words there was a sense of impending danger, "for reasons of the utmost importance I shall not deliver the speech that I have prepared. I have a brief message, a very grave message, that will reach your hearts more surely than any words of mine. The deliberations of this great gathering have been taken out of our hands. We have nothing more to discuss, for Almighty G.o.d has spoken!

"My friends, the great man who was with us but now, the President of the United States, has been a.s.sa.s.sinated."

No words can describe the scene that followed. A moment of smiting silence, then madness, hysteria, women fainting, men clamouring and cursing, and finally a vast upsurging of quickened souls, as the organ pealed forth: "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," and forty thousand Americans rose and sang their hearts out.

Then, in a silence of death, Roosevelt spoke again:

"Listen to the last words of the President of the United States: '_The Union! The Flag!_' That is what he lived for and died for, that is what he loved. '_The Union! The Flag!_'

"My friends, they say patriotism is dead in this land. They say we are eaten up with love of money, tainted with a yellow streak that makes us afraid to fight. It's a lie! I am ready to give every dollar I have in the world to help save this nation and it's the same with you men. Am I right?"

A roar of shouts and hysterical yells shook the building.

"I am sixty years old, but I'll fight in the trenches with my four sons beside me and you men will do the same. Am I right?"

Again came a roar that could be heard across Chicago.