Chapter VII: Appendix: I. Report of House Committee on Foreign Affairs 221 (4)

At the moment when that image, veiled by the flags of France
and of the United States, is uncovered, appears to the gaze of
the assembled crowd, the Marseillaise vibrates in the resonant
light. Our American friends and the Canadians present applaud and
cheer. We are deeply moved, we Frenchmen, before this figure,
where we recognize clearly the force and the sweetness of the
mother country, the uprightness of her thoughts, the loftiness of
her sentiments, the nobility of her generous desires. Never has
an artist’s idea better expressed by the sovereign gift of art
all that there is of depth, of rarity, of the unique, in hearts
animated by the imperative desire to maintain the dominion of
France; to enhance her glory. The head of the French delegation,
M. Gabriel Hanotaux, of the French Academy, former Minister of
Foreign Affairs, accompanied by the French Ambassador and the
Governors of the States of New York and of Vermont, delivers that
precious pledge of remembrance and of hope to the friendship of
the American people. His eloquent words are most appropriate to
the occasion which reunites us, to the decorations which astonish
us, to the character of the great man whose admirable work gives
us, at the end of three centuries, the joy of seeing in this place
the infinite results of a French undertaking. The orator, in
reviewing the life and work of Champlain, points out how similar
to Corneille was the soul of that contemporary of Richelieu, and
how this discoverer of new ways, this builder of towns, this
initiator of civilization into the New World, this idealist, prompt
in the realization of his ideas, has succeeded by the power of a
thoughtful desire, preparing his projects far in advance by prudent
thought, wisely conceived, rapidly executed—having, in a word, as a
historian has said in the temperate and forceful language of long
ago, “the intentions of all he did.”

After M. Hanotaux, the Governors of New York and Vermont spoke.
Their excellent discourses, warmly applauded, reminded me again
how well the history of Champlain is known in America. In him they
honor by turns the incarnation of the genius of France; the honor
and chivalry of France. To that explorer, to that colonizer, they
give that beautiful name of “honest man” which our ancestors of
the seventeenth century claimed more passionately than any other
title: navigator, explorer, honest man. * * *

After that moving ceremony we were taken in automobiles to the
ruins of Fort Frédéric, which was constructed in 1731 by the
Marquis de Beauharnois. The whole population of Port Henry comes
with us; they surround us, showing us every courtesy.

In a group of children I see a pretty little boy with blue eyes.

“Doest thou know French”?

“Yes, sir.”

“What is thy name”?

“Henri Pigeon.”

With a name so extremely French one does not need a certificate
of origin. A French priest, Father Guttin, professor in the
College of Saint-Michel at Burlington, on the other shore of Lake
Champlain, told me that Henri Pigeon is one of many children of a
very honorable and hard-working Canadian family. The father of that
child works in the mines at Port Henry.

PLATTSBURGH, Same Day, _May 3, 1912_, 5:30 o’clock.

The train, since leaving Port Henry, has traversed the left bank of
Lake Champlain. As we pass I notice shores of golden sand, hills
thickly shaded by foliage, pines, whose brilliant verdure glows on
the azure of the blue water. Here is the island of Valcour. * * *
What a pity not to be able to stop at all the stations on that
railroad, with its many villages with French names.

Plattsburgh is nearly the last American town before reaching
the Canadian frontier. It is full of remembrances of the War of
Independence. The Federal Government of the United States has
established a strong garrison there. Here again swift automobiles
await us. The owner of one of these brilliant vehicles literally
carries me to the threshold of the station, at a lively pace, and
on the way said to me, in a calm, jolly voice:

“I am French, Monsieur; this is my son Raymond. We have only half
an hour to see our countrymen. And, well, we want to make the best
of it.”

All this was said with a pleasing country accent. It is the accent
we use in our country. * * * The auto stops at the entrance to
a training field, where the Fifth Regiment of Infantry of the
Regular Army of the United States is ranged in order of battle. The
American Government wishes, at that last station in her territory,
to do us great honor, due, no doubt, to the presence as a member of
our delegation of General Lebon, former Commander-in-Chief of our
First Army Corps.

The General takes his place on a platform in front of the
public stand. The regiment band plays the Marseillaise, which
is followed by the solemn notes of the American hymn, the Star
Spangled Banner. The Mayor of Plattsburgh addresses us in
French, bidding us welcome. The procession starts immediately.
A very excellent showing of troops, by a young colonel (Calvin
D. Cowles), who manages a fiery horse most excellently, and who
is surrounded by a body-guard of officers dressed in uniforms
heavily adorned with gold braid and shoulder pieces of blue
silk. A faultless procession; the sections well in line, the
pace lively, the carriage very military. When the starry flag
passed, everybody stood up and removed their hats. This scene
is framed in a background of mountains and the blue line of the
lake, now lighted by the slanting rays of the setting sun. After
the military carriages had passed the colonel, accompanied by
his staff, came and stood before the stand, and with a sweeping
gesture saluted us with his sword. The American nation could not
bid a more magnificent farewell to a delegation in which figure the
descendants of Rochambeau and Lafayette, and who belong to a nation
faithful to the traditions of a memorable fraternity in arms.

SAINT JEAN, Same Day, _May 3, 1912_, 7 o’clock.

We have crossed the frontier. The evening falls over the Canadian
fields. From a clock exactly like those in the French parishes
there comes the aerial call of the Angelus. * * * Instantly, in
the station of Saint Jean there is heard a great clamor. “Vive
la France!” Imagine an immense crowd, packed around the train,
preventing it from starting; waving three-colored banners; singing
at the top of their lungs the songs of this land and of the home
land; the songs which, among us, are sung to welcome parents and
friends. Hands are extended; eyes seek other eyes. One might call
it the reunion of a family a long time separated. We are happy to
meet again. We detain each other. * * * There are so many things
to say to each other. * * * Everyone who has been present at this
Canadian welcome will treasure in the depths of his heart the
remembrance of that moment never to be forgotten.

This journey has been fertile in rapid and diverse impressions,
carried away, alas! too quickly by the flight of time. It was at
times like artificial fire; too quickly vanished. * * * But this
here—and I purposely make use of a familiar phrase, which will be
well understood by the French on both shores of the Atlantic—this,
is in truth the bouquet! (Ceci, c’est véritablement le bouquet).

GASTON DESCHAMPS.

VII. THEY VISIT CANADA, NIAGARA FALLS AND SAIL FOR FRANCE. IMPRESSIONS AND COMMENTS BY FRENCH VISITORS ON EXPERIENCES IN AMERICA

Their reception by the Board of Trade and Chamber of Commerce and Citizens Association in Montreal was very hospitable. A banquet was tendered the visiting delegation in the evening of May 4th and on the following day a luncheon was given them by the Franco-American Committee of Canada. Their reception at Quebec on May 6th was also very cordial. They were greatly interested in the city founded three centuries back by Samuel Champlain. They visited its churches, its Parliament buildings, the Heights of Abraham, and placed a wreath of flowers on the tomb of Montcalm. They were pleased with the majestic sweep of the St. Lawrence, the Falls of Montmorency and with the bracing air of Quebec, whose surrounding hills were white with snow. Among the many who united in entertaining them while in Canada were Senator Raoul Dandurand, President of the Franco-American Committee of Canada, Sir Lomer Gouin, Premier of the Province, M. Monk, Minister of Public Works, Lieutenant-Governor Langelier, M. Montagu Allan, Vice-President of the Franco-American Committee of Montreal, Mgr. Bégin of Laval University, Messrs. R. W. Reford and Chaput, Presidents of the Canadian Chambers of Commerce, M. Revol, President of the Montreal Chamber of Commerce, M. Montpetit and M. de Crèvecœur, M. Ferdinand Roy, President of the Canadian Institute at Quebec, and many others. The mental exhilaration of the visitors increased as they moved about amid the French speaking people of the Province, where the descendants of French colonists with French customs dominated its language, its laws and its institutions. On their return to France they spoke very appreciatively of their visit to the Dominion of Canada, its hospitable people and of its possibilities.

On their return from Canada via Niagara Falls, they were met there by Senator Henry W. Hill, Secretary of the Commission, and were entertained at luncheon by General Francis V. Greene, who in faultless Parisian French paid a glowing tribute to their countrymen. He escorted them about the Falls and showed them the power plants on the Canadian shore and took them in a special car around the Gorge Route. They were deeply interested in the Falls, the Whirlpool and power houses. They took the evening train for New York, where they embarked on _La Provence_, May 9th, for France.

Commissioners Howland Pell and Senator James A. Foley and Viscount de Jean of the French Embassy at Washington, Senator Raoul Dandurand of Montreal and others were on the dock to bid them “farewell” and “bon voyage.” Each gentleman of the delegation was presented with a photograph of the Waldorf-Astoria banquet and each lady with a bouquet of La France roses.

All the delegates were charmed with the cordiality of their reception, both in the United States and Canada, and most of them expressed their intention of coming again.

M. Gabriel Hanotaux, former Minister of Foreign Affairs and president of the delegation, in a conversation before _La Provence_ left the quay, said:

I believe that the time has come for closer relations to be
developed between France and America from many points of view.
There is one point beyond doubt. We have seen recently that when
France withdraws her financial support from any international
project the carrying out of the project is at any rate delayed.
France is a rich country, and has money to invest, but she must
first see that her interests are safeguarded. In America the thing
that struck me and most of the delegation was the prodigious
activity everywhere. Everything in the country gives evidence of
unique strength which must play a great rôle in the world. I am
really charmed with my first visit to the United States and Canada
and hope to have an opportunity of coming again. We in France
are convinced that trade can be improved to a great extent. The
present statistics do not, however, give France her proper place,
as a great deal of the French trade passes across the Atlantic
on British, Belgian and German vessels and is credited to the
first port of debarkation, although many of the American exports
eventually go to France.

M. Gabriel Hanotaux, in referring to French literature, said:

The greatest error appears to exist in American and British minds
on the subject of French literature. I myself know that the French
love a pure literature and I am certain that that kind of writing
is the only kind that is profitable in France itself. All the
modern French writers, too, are of the same opinion. The indelicate
French books appear to be written only for the foreigner, for they
have no vogue whatever in France.

On a prior occasion M. Gabriel Hanotaux expressed the pleasure of the delegation at the reception given it in this country, saying that from the moment they had placed foot upon this soil they have been captivated and carried away in a whirlwind of cordiality and good-fellowship. About the reception by President Taft the French statesman said:

The President, despite his overwhelming occupations, received
us at his table; in the very kindest manner he honored, in our
persons, the thought which has brought us here. He was so kind as
to give us personally, in connection with our visit, assurances of
his encouragement and approval; which have been for us an ample
reward. These countless acts of friendship of all kinds we have
looked upon—and rightly so—as being addressed to our beloved mother
country and to the Government of the French Republic which has so
splendidly encouraged and aided us in the accomplishment of our
mission.

On its return from America, the French delegation which had attended the Champlain exercises, was entertained in Paris at a grand dinner, on June 17, 1912. It was a truly brilliant assemblage, presided over by M. Raymond Poincaré, President of the Council, and Minister of Foreign Affairs. Prominent among the large number at the tables were the sculptor, Rodin; Paul Hervieu, of the French Academy; Louis Barthou, deputy and former Minister; General Brugère, former vice-president of the Conseil Supérieur of War, and president of the United States section of the Franco-American Committee; and many others eminent in the official, military, naval, financial, literary and art circles of France. The aviator, Blériot, was a guest, representative of a putative new science. Many ladies also graced the occasion.

Among the Americans in attendance was the American Ambassador, the Hon. Myron Herrick, to whom the presiding officer, M. Poincaré, in his opening remarks, most happily referred as having come “to testify that his country, less near to us by parentage than is Canada, is still just as near at heart.” American hospitality, he said, which surprises and charms the French, whenever they cross the ocean, is but an expression of a constant memory. “As Monsignor Ireland so well says: ‘The United States forget nothing. In learning the history of his own country, an American learns to love France. The Past has not ceased to be felt in the Present. American sentiment is unable to detach itself from France. Emigrants, it is true, arrive in vast numbers on our soil; but there is a something, I know not what, in the air we breathe, that assimilates them in less than a generation. And the new-comers become like the earlier ones.’”

M. Gabriel Hanotaux, of the French Academy, President of the Franco-American Committee, reviewed the experiences of the French delegation in their journey to Lake Champlain, and in his very felicitous remarks, “addressed, across the seas, a salutation of thanks and of gratitude, on the part of France to the United States of America and to the Dominion of Canada, in response to the welcome extended by these two countries, last month, to the French delegation visiting Lake Champlain.” He drew a lively picture of incidents of the journey, especially of the arrival at Ticonderoga:

“It is impossible to express the emotion which we felt when we saw
that there was the goal of our journey; that our feet would tread
in the footsteps of our great compatriots of by-gone ages; that
this little bay was where Champlain embarked, in the Indian canoes,
to go to discover, southwards, the land where sprang up Boston and
New York; that here were those famous passes, defended, later on,
foot by foot by the French heroes of the 17th and 18th centuries;
that these ruins are of Fort Carillon; that these fields, these
hills and woods, were the battle ground where Montcalm had fought
and conquered; and that here, in a word, was the lake toward which
we had fared all these weeks, and where we came to enshrine, at
the foot of the commemorative monument, the image which we had
brought, with precious care—from the land of France, on the ship
_La France_, the image of France!”

The speaker paid graceful tribute to the genius of Rodin; dwelt upon the welcome which the delegation had met with in Canada; thanked all who had contributed to the pleasure and success of the mission, and concluded by proposing the health of the President of the United States, His Majesty George the Fifth, the people of all Latin America, of the delegation’s hosts in the United States and Canada, and of the Franco-American Committee.

He was followed by Senator Dandurand, President of the Franco-American Committee of Montreal, who spoke of Canadian development, and of the relations of Canada and the United States. At the close of his address he was invested with the insignia of the Legion of Honor.

Then followed the address of the Deputy, Louis Barthou, which sparkled with wit and happy hits. The speaker paid particular tribute to M. Hanotaux; dwelt upon the enthusiasm with which their delegation had been met, and made repeated acknowledgment of the courtesies they had received. His Excellency, M. Puga-Borne, Minister from Chili, spoke briefly, and was followed by the American Ambassador, Mr. Herrick, who happily acknowledged the compliments and courtesies bestowed upon him and his country, and closed by proposing the health of the President of the French Republic. The exercises were concluded by a brief address from the presiding officer, M. Raymond Poincaré, who referred to the part which the Franco-American Committee had borne in the carrying out of the Champlain commemorative project.

On May 25, 1912, the newly-appointed Ambassador from the United States to France, Mr. Myron T. Herrick, and Mrs. Herrick, gave a reception at the American Embassy to the French delegation which represented France in the Champlain ceremonies. Some seventy guests were present, and were welcomed by the Ambassador in a felicitous speech, to which M. Hanotaux replied most happily in behalf of the delegation. M. Antonin Dubost also spoke on the unbroken amity so long existing between France and the United States.

The _Courrier des États-Unis_ of November 10, 1912, published an address delivered at the annual meeting of the Five Academies by M. Paul Vidal de la Blache, delegate of the Academy of Moral and Political Science. On the occasion referred to, M. Frédéric Masson, of the French Academy, presided. M. de la Blache said in opening his address:

“_Gentlemen_: In the course of a journey which a French delegation
made last spring, to pay homage to the memory of Samuel Champlain,
there was one day interesting above all others. I am sure none
of our company will lose the memory of it. Many have eloquently
expressed the impression which they cherish. Impressions of travel
are usually fleeting; they become dim by their very multiplicity,
and the daily train of events soon relegates them to the limbo of
the forgotten. However, the memory of this day has not ceased after
several months to spring freshly to mind. Such is the quality of
countries which are stamped by the seal of history. To know the
regions upon which the eyes of Champlain rested, to press under
foot the fragments of palisades upon which was spilled the blood of
the soldiers of Montcalm, is assuredly a moving experience.”

The speaker found that a visit to places thus endowed with associations, was like reviewing history condensed. He sketched the course of history in the Champlain valley, recalled the scenes of strife between Iroquois and Huron, English and French, English and “Americans of the Union.” “These memories,” he said, “crowded upon our thought and took form as we visited the scene which served to frame them.” The speaker lightly reviewed the varied scene as presented to the French visitors passing northward from New York to Ticonderoga. When he found himself on the battlefield of July 8, 1758, he exclaimed: “How fiction pales before history!” The memories of Montcalm and his army are so vivid that he sees again the memorable conflict of the old days. “This corner of historic earth,” he said, “by turn the property of the State of New York and of Columbia University, in 1818 passed into the hands of an old New York family. The descendants of Mr. William F. Pell honor themselves in preserving the souvenirs of the past, which they have in keeping.” He described the work of restoration which has been done at Ticonderoga, and dwelt with pleasure on the reception accorded the visitors at the old house with its souvenirs, its old furniture, pictures and relics, and with its distinctive portico, or veranda, which M. de la Blache found an interesting feature of Anglo-American Colonial architecture, from New England to Virginia.

Crossing to Crown Point, he reviewed in like strain the scenes and the associations of the place. At Crown Point, the speaker was overwhelmed by the memory that here, in 1609, came Champlain with his Algonquin allies. In a few picturesque sentences, he sketched the first conflict in this region, of white man against Iroquois, not forgetting to emphasize the higher mission which Champlain sought to accomplish.

Of the exercises which were held at this point, where M. Hanotaux delivered a notable address, M. de la Blache spoke at length. It was, he said, a ceremony very beautiful in its simplicity. “Around us familiarly crowded the people of the neighborhood, worthy farmers with something of a Puritan aspect, an attentive throng in which mingled many French Canadians; for we had come near to the actual boundary line of the languages.” “While the orator recalled the expressions by which Champlain described the country which revealed itself to us, our attention sought and found the distinctive features in the setting of this scene. Opposite, on the western shore, reared the massive granite of the Adirondacks, wooded, and partly covered with snow, the silhouette of which recalled, in grander proportion, that of the mountains of Morvan, seen from the south. On the other side, the more distant outline of the Green mountains, bathed in the luminous calm of a spring-time day.”

In similar vein, the speaker described his progress down the lake to Plattsburgh, where he recalled the associations of 1814. Thence on to the first Canadian town of St. John: “The fading day permitted us only to dimly see in the shadows of evening the Grand Isle, Isle La Motte, Isle aux Noix, which Champlain describes as ‘These beautiful islands filled with the finest woods and prairies,’” etc. The speaker passed on in his address to recall his visit to Montreal and Quebec, with tributes to the heroes of France who have made this region famous. “There remains to-day in our minds,” he says, “a sentiment of high regard for those who inspired in 1909 the commemoration of the tercentenary of Champlain’s discovery. Resulting from the initiative of the states of New York and Vermont, and endorsed by Federal authority and later honored by the participation of France, this celebration has taken a more general character than the mere glorification of a great man. It signifies the adoption by America of all the heroes who have contributed to our greatness. This homage was not confined to Champlain; it is shared with Montcalm, it is addressed to La Salle, to Marquette, whose statue appears in the Capitol at Washington; to Maisonneuve, the founder of Montreal, to whom is reared a statue upon one of the city places; to La Clède, whose statue is reared in one of the parks of St. Louis; to Joliet, to d’Iberville, to Hennepin and Duluth, and to many others who, on Lake Champlain, on the Ohio, on the Great Lakes, or on the Mississippi, were the pioneers of a dominion, which should come to be realized some day, but far after them and otherwise than they would have conceived. Doubtless America honors herself in honoring and adopting our glories. With this act of courtesy mingles a strong sentiment of pride. It costs us nothing, however, to associate ourselves with an homage which concerns us, and from which we can draw a sense of consolation.

“The names which I have recalled are more popular in America than in their own country. We show ourselves forgetful of their fame, as if to make their memories bear the blame of our failings. A somewhat pusillanimous feeling makes us neglect this part of our historic inheritance, as one turns aside from painful memories, the bitterness of which he fears. These regrets assuredly are justified. ‘_Sic vos non vobis_’: such is the phrase which springs to the lips. I do not believe, however, that such should be the last word, nor the final sentiment at which we ought to stop. In an address delivered three years ago, July 4, 1909, on the occasion of the Champlain Tercentenary fêtes, Cardinal Gibbons said: ‘We are much indebted to France for the great men whom she has sent to our country.’ Must one see in these words only a passing compliment? Rather do I perceive therein the emphasis of history. These Frenchmen, above all others, had prophetic vision of the extent and dimensions which this continent could afford to political domination. They perceived with larger vision than the tenacious colonists who applied their Puritan virtue and their practical sense to inlaying their settlements, one by one, between the sea and the Appalachians. These were the founders; but we may ask whether, without the perspectives opened by our countrymen, without their example and the emulation which it stimulated, this powerful unity, of which our epoch has seen the accomplishment from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, would be realized. There is a something in the views, the plans, of this generalizing spirit, characteristic of our compatriots. Thinking of France, they have outlived the grandeur of the United States. Since by commemorations and by monuments, America honors herself by reminding us that in her eyes, as happy inheritor, a part of her present grandeur is the work of Frenchmen of other days, it becomes us to take her at her word. In the work of civilization, as it evolves, each bit of metal which the old nations throw into the crucible adds a quality and communicates its own resonance to the ingot which comes out. Doubtless it is to recover this past, which arouses hope within us—something besides the memory of deceit, the sense of having lost what the heroic contemporaries of Richelieu and Colbert caught sight of, for their country. Our American work is not to be summed up as a failure. It is the Americans themselves who recognize this and who say it.”

VIII. IMPRESSIONS OF M. RENÉ BAZIN

In the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ for September, 1912, is published a pleasant article by M. René Bazin, of the French Academy, entitled “Paysages d’Amérique,” in which he gives a graphic and poetic account of his American visit as a member of the French delegation, which presented the statue of France for the Champlain memorial. He tells of the voyage, paints vividly his first impressions of New York, chats of his visit to Washington, with many fresh impressions of scenes and people. His article, which is in journal form, brings him to Lake Champlain, May 3, 1912. After noting various incidents of the journey north, he continues:

Since last evening we have traveled by special train to the banks
of Lake Champlain. Early this morning, the sensation of being still
awoke me. I opened the window of the Pullman and saw that we were
stopped on a siding, in the open country. Day was breaking; the sun
had not yet risen. Before me, at the right of the railroad, were
low lands, grassy, wild, like neglected pastures. Further on, a
great house under the elms, and further yet the waters of the lake,
the gleam of which came to me in rays between the white mists which
rolled up. The silence was perfect. It was the season, already past
with us, when the blackbirds at day-break poise themselves on the
top of the trees.

Nothing was lacking. The outlines of the hills beyond the lake and
above the mists, were of a vivid blue, and, suddenly, the globe
of the sun showed itself. Presently a great heron, seeking the
woods, came on wing, his legs like a rudder, and crossed over the
bank. I hear the sound of the beats of his short wings; I hear
the coming of a train on the distant horizon, and the noise is so
sharp that it makes me realize the immensity of the land through
which it spreads. Primitive peace is still here. I go out; I notice
at the left of the line the successive level of wooded hills, the
highest of which have the appearance of mountains. These are the
Adirondacks. They call them “Green Mountains” in the country. But
they look out upon the morning and the myriads of buds massed
together clothe them in purple. Oaks, perhaps; probably maples;
this beautiful maple which has two red seasons.

About eight o’clock automobiles come for us. I get into the first,
with Hanotaux and two others of our companions. We have not a
long road to go. On one side, clear woodland; a short approach,
a turning to the left, a fine descending curve planted with green
trees, and we are before the steps of a great villa on the shores
of the lake. Our hosts for the morning, Mr. and Mrs. S. H. P.
Pell, came to us on the veranda. The automobiles stop and at once
a little boom of cannon is heard ahead of us. We look in the
direction whence the shot comes and we see the grass of the field
all starred with tricolor flags. A second automobile arrives.
It is saluted as were ourselves. In the fine house,—very well
lighted, very white, ornamented with family portraits and with
old engravings representing scenes of other days in this place
so enriched in history, we are greeted with a graciousness and a
knowledge of the world which is manifested through a considerate
and sincere heart. There are some moments in which plain people
and simple actions become arguments in favor of a country. I
shall never again hear the American spirit ill-spoken of without
recalling the hospitality of the Americans of Ticonderoga. The
name is an Indian name of the fortress which was entrusted by
Louis XV. to the Marquis de Montcalm. The French have said, say,
and will say, “Carillon.” At Carillon, July 8, 1758, the Marquis
de Montcalm had only 3,570 regulars, 87 marines, 85 Canadians, and
16 Indians, under his command,—that is to say, 3,758 soldiers.
But he was entrenched in the woods and he had a refuge in case of
need. Abercromby commanded an army of 16,500 men and he came on to
conquer this feeble enemy and to establish finally English dominion
over Canada. The hour was not yet come. Once more, although the
enemy was brave and determined, France with unequal arms was
victorious.

Entering Mr. Pell’s house, we were reminded of this date, these
figures, and of their fine significance. We remembered that in this
forest where we are, Montcalm in early morning, throwing off his
jacket and crouching under the branches of a tree, said to his men
who labored to gather the stones for the intrenchments, “Children,
the day will be hot!” We recall that at evening in the same place,
as the fading light of day was prolonged by the reflection of the
lake, he wrote: “What a day for France! The little army of the King
conquers his enemies. Ah, what troops like ours! I have never seen
their equal!”

In how many parts of the world, among others, cannot memory speak
to us thus softly of the glory of our arms! But what is delicious
here is that a foreign family which entertains us, also remembers,
and that it understands, and that it recognizes something beyond
the mere history.

While they served us with a well-ordered breakfast—there were even
fruits from California and Florida in aromatic wine—our hosts and
the parents of our hosts spoke to us of that France that they know
and love, of Cartier, of Roberval, of Champlain, “father of the
aborigines,” of the missionaries, of Frontenac, of Vaudreuil and
of Montcalm. These names lived again and those of their adversaries.

We learned that Mr. Pell has sought to buy all the lands around
Ticonderoga where the French and English fought, so that no one
shall build a hotel there and lessen the sacred character of this
landscape. Is it not a fine stroke, and does he belong by chance to
this “material civilization,” of which they have made in respect
to Americans so much reproach, so much hard compliment? We go out
of the house; we cross the field, and, the ground falling away a
little, we are in front of a square fortress of stone, protected
by ditches. The proprietors have restored it, but the great part
of these old stones are truly stones of war, and the black rafters
of the chambers have become brown by the smoke of pipes which were
lighted in the hard winter of this climate by the lost and almost
abandoned children of the regiments of France.

One thinks of the reproaches which they would have made to the
news brought by the Indians, to the wind which howled, to the snow
storm.... The fort is decorated in our honor. On its front, a
bronze plaque bears this inscription: “Germain redoubt constructed
by captain Germain, régiment des Gardes de la Reine, in 1758, by
order of the marquis de Montcalm, in command of the fortress of
Carillon.”

The extent of the old covered way, cut through to-day, brings
us to the interior of the earthworks. Before us, at 500 meters,
high glacis crown the hill and conceal just at the roof line a
construction which would have served as quarters for the officers.
I notice two flags waving at the end of two great flagstaffs, and
more below, like a basket of violets moving, for the wind is brisk,
where they have been planted. But no one explains to me yet what
we have come to see, and Mr. Pell, who walks with me, stooping,
picks a woolly leaf of a wild plant, and says to me: “Keep it
as souvenir. Right here, some years ago, we set out to make an
excavation. At the first stroke of the pick the workmen uncovered
some bodies clothed in trimmed uniforms. They were immediately
ordered to cover them up and not to disturb them.” We were moved. I
continued to ascend the hill. One has to turn a little to find the
entrance into the fortress of Carillon. A dozen cannon outside are
still pointed towards the lake and towards the little neighboring
mountain, “The mount of France” which drew the English artillery.
I enter the enclosure of the fortress. It is trimmed up. It awaits
France. Ah, see who has come—_La France!_ and she sees in front of
the wall of Montcalm’s old quarters, ten silken standards which
the wind lifts and lets fall heavily on the staffs; violet squares
bordered with white, blue panels barred with red, many-colored
banners, all the standards of the regiments of France which were
represented at the battle of Carillon. The victorious colors live
again in the light, and a little above, dominating the broken
walls and the roofs, two great flags protect the others, command
them and explain them; the starry flag of young America and the
banner of ancient France, all white and strewn with Fleur-de-lis.
My eyes fill with tears, and I really think that two tears have
fallen. I am sure that they said, “Long live this American who has
a deep heart.” They say still other things and I feel myself living
wholly in the France of other days.

The house of the fort has become a museum; swords, guns,
ammunition, letters, keys, spades which were broken in throwing
up the entrenchments, engravings of several periods, are there
hung on the walls or arranged in showcases; even an old watch,
which the journal of the fortress, likewise preserved, states, had
been lost among the ruins. We linger there and I notice that our
traveling companions speak less as time passes. But when we have
made the round of the walls of Carillon and when we notice in the
full light of ten o’clock in the morning all the country which
the old fort commands, words come again; joy, also; the ground
descends from there down to the lake, narrow at this point; the
hills rise gradually and the blue of the distance defines itself
in clear lines upon the pale azure of the horizon. Some one says:
“Do you not notice how that resembles the plain of Pau, as seen
from the terrace?” Indeed, if I efface from my memory the image
of blue waters, which the waters of Lake Champlain disturbed by
the melting snows do not at all resemble, and which do not reflect
the sky, the two landscapes have a similarity. Even the atmosphere
is transparent here, revealing the elevated conformation of the
distance. Another of our companions, who soon notices the extended
form of the lake and the color of the trees on the lower level,
says, almost at the same moment, “I believe I see the Vosges with
Retournemer and Longemer.” In other ways we recognize here French
harmonies.

Some hours later, we are on a point of land quite far from the fort
of Carillon, at the foot of a white stone lighthouse. The light
overlooks a stretch of bad rock land, standing in the midst of low
places and fields which stretch out behind it. What a desert this
would be, and from the origin of the world, this spur on which
break the short waves of Lake Champlain!

But to-day the people of the American towns, those who live in
the Adirondacks, those from the other side of the water, miners,
farmers, and various workers, or trout fishers, who have come to
prepare for the coming season, have assembled at Crown Point Forts.
Some horses, picketed, browse in the fields; others are hitched
to the branches of a hawthorne—the remains, perhaps of an old
plantation, set out by the hand of a jealous old French soldier.
Some American carriages, a little seat on four very light wheels;
some wagons, twenty automobiles, are scattered on the grass, while
around the lighthouse, on all the levels of the rock, are seated
upon benches or on the ground a mixed population, intimate,
badly controlling the children who race around like young quail;
listening, understanding—or pretending to understand—the speeches
which glorify Champlain. The bronze medallion which represents
France, the work of Rodin, brought by us, is already set in its
niche in front. The wind blows; it causes to vibrate the ten cords
stretched from the lantern of the lighthouse to the ground in a
crown, and flaps the big canopy and all the flags which ornament
it. And as my mind wanders when the speeches are in English, I
listen to what the flags are saying:

“Do you see them, these people seated in the front row? They don’t
belong here.”

“It’s plain that they don’t belong here. You’re not saying much of
anything: Are they tanned by the open air? Have they the free and
easy way of the American citizen?”

“I suppose that they are from Paris?”

“You have a very simple way of being sure of it, my dear. Did you
ever hear such a noise! Listen! When they are from Paris, there is
never any lack of talk!”

“—Precisely, the orator proclaims himself; he comes from Paris.”

“Not of great extent, this France?”

“Not very formidable?”

One flag, smoke-blackened, said:

“Not very serious?”

Then, the English flag, which had said nothing, snapped a blow so
sharp that a whip wouldn’t have been better.

“Very serious, my dear. I’ve known the French. I’ve known the
French at a time when you were not such a much, be it said without
offense to you. I have known Champlain. He had a jovial way. He was
usually pleasant. The Indians said of him: ‘We like to hear you
speak. You always have something pleasant to say.’ But, believe me,
I understood him: it was as a colonial and a rough adversary, I
say adversary, because that is the name that one gives to his old
enemies when they have become his friends, you understand?”

“Pretty well.”

I leave the flags, ruffling. I think of this brave man, whose fête
this is, at this moment, in his little sleepy and grass-grown
town of Brouage: of the dreams of glory that were his, all
youthful, like those of a good many men of his time, and which he
accomplished because he had a heart capable of suffering for his
love. For he loved France. He left her, the better to serve her.
He bore with him, to the West Indies, and afterwards to Canada,
a poor companion, a perfect and holy image. Almost alone among
the savages, having carried upon his strong shoulders, oars,
provisions and the blanket for his bed at night, enured to heat,
to cold, to mosquitoes, to long exiles and the perpetual treason
of men, over these identical grounds where we now are, he made his
way to discovery, beholding a new world reveal itself about him,
and giving it to his Lord in heaven, as he gave it to his King,
secretly, hourly, by each glance with which he took possession
of this unknown world. For he says: “Kings should not think of
extending their domination in infidel lands, except to establish
there the reign of Christ.” Commerce was not forgotten. But what
superior humanity! It is still living, only disregarded. Champlain
has passed here. I realize that this landscape has been reflected
in his eyes as it is in mine. This landscape? Is it indeed sure?
Where are the trusty witnesses? Not the meadow, which is new.
Not the trees, too young for him to have known, nor the waters,
which have changed, nor the clouds, nor even the ancestors of the
spectators assembled on this strand. We can scarcely say that the
movement of the sun sang as to-day, the same verse in the hymn
universal.

M. Bazin concludes with a running account of his continued journey to Montreal and Quebec, recalling at length their wealth of historic associations.

IX. COMMENT IN APPRECIATION OF THE VISIT OF THE FRENCH DELEGATION AND HONORS CONFERRED

The mission of the French delegation proved to be of far deeper import, than the mere presentation of the Rodin bust, gratifying to Americans as was that superb gift on the part of its donors. It awakened in the people of this country, quite as much as it did in the members of that delegation, renewed interest in the activities and achievements of the peoples of the two Republics, which are the foremost democracies of the world. M. Hanotaux, a scholar, a statesman and a diplomat and his distinguished colleagues, are among the foremost citizens of France. They represented the several departments of the Government as well as the various trades and professions in the civil life of that Republic. Commerce and industries were represented by M. Antoine Girard, Counsellor of Foreign Commerce. Their reputation had long been established in science, in literature and in the fine arts and also in jurisprudence, in statesmanship and in diplomacy, as exemplified in the genial and charming personality of Ambassador Jusserand. They are among the present day celebrities of the French nation and were invited to become members of the Embassy on account of their individual standing in the official, social and intellectual life of that Republic.

One cannot read their addresses and their reports to Paris of the impressions, which they formed on their visit to America, without appreciating the spontaneity of their tributes to the American people and to their institutions, the warmth of their expressions of good will and generous impulses towards the people of this nation and their gratitude for the deep interest shown by the people of the United States, and especially by those of Vermont and New York, in commemorating the achievements and the character of one of their countrymen.

The unreported addresses of Baron D’Estournelle de Constant, member of the French Senate and the representative of France at the Hague International Peace Tribunal, and of M. Louis Barthou, ex-Minister of Justice and one of the leading Parliamentarians of the Chamber of Deputies, will long be remembered for their urbanity, for the breadth of their views, and for the brilliancy of their eloquent periods. The addresses of M. Hanotaux and others and the foregoing reports of Gaston Deschamps, of M. de la Blache, the geographer of the University of Paris, and of René Bazin, of the French Academy, disclose the character and beauty of the style of the French littérateurs. Wherever the members of the delegation went, they were gratefully welcomed and entertained in stately manner. The social functions taxed the powers of endurance on the part of the visitors to their full extent. They made hosts of friends and gave Americans opportunity to meet them and to become acquainted with gentlemen and ladies possessed of the rare culture and refinement of French life. Their visit was timely and did much to strengthen the ties that bind the peoples of the two Republics in friendly accord. They made an impression on the people of this country that will be quite as enduring as the bronze testimonial of the good will of the people of France towards those of the United States, firmly set in the granite base of the Champlain Memorial at Crown Point Forts and there was voiced by the friends, whom they made in America, the sentiment, _Vive la France_.

Some months after the return of the French delegation to France, Commissioner Walter C. Witherbee was appointed by the President of the French Republic a Knight of the Legion of Honor, which was formally and appreciatively acknowledged by this Commission.

Knighthood in the Legion of Honor was also conferred by the President of France upon Hon. Frank S. Witherbee, a member of Preliminary Champlain Commission and President of the Lake Champlain Association, which participated in the entertainment of the French delegation at the Waldorf-Astoria banquet on May 1, 1912.

Hon. A. Barton Hepburn, President of the Chamber of Commerce of the State of New York, which entertained the French delegation at luncheon on May 2, 1912, has recently been decorated by the President of France with the honorary rank of Officer in the Legion of Honor.

The French Government has recently presented to Honorable Charles B. Alexander, member of the Society of the Cincinnati, who gave a reception on April 30, 1912, to the French delegation in his beautiful home at No. 4 West 58th Street, New York City, the artistic Sèvres bisque group of national manufacture, known as “Télémaque chez Calypso,” by the sculptor, M. Louis Simon Boizot.

Knighthood in the Legion of Honor was also conferred by the President of the Republic of France upon President John H. Finley of the College of the City of New York, who has taken deep interest in the life of Samuel Champlain and in French colonization in America. His felicitous remarks at the Waldorf-Astoria banquet on May 1, 1912, were genuinely appreciated by Ambassador Jusserand, the members of the French delegation, and all others in attendance. President Finley was the Harvard Exchange lecturer under the Hyde Foundation in 1910 at the University of Paris and at ten other French universities.

In February, 1913, His Excellency, Raymond Poincaré, President of the Republic of France, appointed Henry W. Hill, Secretary of the New York Lake Champlain Tercentenary Commission, a Knight of the Legion of Honor, in recognition of his public, literary and other services in connection with the Tercentenary Celebration from its inception in 1907 to the conclusion of the Final Report of the Commission in 1913.

These delicate and touching expressions of appreciation on the part of President Fallières, President Poincaré, Ambassador Jusserand and the citizens of France of the courtesies shown to the members of the French delegation, while in the United States, are still further evidences of the warmth of the kindly feelings existing between the people of that Republic and those of this nation, and are gratefully appreciated.

Part Two

DEDICATORY CEREMONIES

I. PREPARATION FOR DEDICATORY CEREMONIES, INCLUDING MILITARY FEATURES

The Commission decided to have the dedicatory ceremonies of the Crown Point memorial on July 5, 1912, and of the Plattsburgh memorial on July 6, 1912, the anniversary week of the Tercentenary Celebration. Formal invitations to the dedicatory ceremonies of the Crown Point memorial were sent by the New York and Vermont Lake Champlain Commissions, and to the dedicatory exercises of the Plattsburgh memorial, by the New York Commission, to the President and Vice-President of the United States, to the United States Senators of New York and Vermont, to the members of Congress from the Champlain valley, to the French Ambassador, His Excellency, J. J. Jusserand, the British Ambassador, the Right Honorable James Bryce and to Count and Countess de Peretti de la Rocca and to M. Maugras, members of the French Embassy and to members of the British Embassy at Washington, to the Governors, Lieutenant-Governors and other officials of New York and Vermont, including Hon. William Sohmer, State Comptroller, Hon. Andrew S. Draper, State Commissioner of Education, Hon. Henry W. Hoefer, State Architect, Major-General John F. O’Ryan, Adjutant-General William Verbeck and Hon. James A. Holden, State Historian, Hon. John A. Bensel, State Engineer and Surveyor, to prominent members of the State Legislature, to Justice Charles E. Hughes, former Governor of New York, to Hon. George H. Prouty, former Governor of Vermont, to Col. Calvin D. Cowles, to Hon. Frank S. Witherbee, President of the Champlain Association, to Percival Wilds, Secretary of that Association, to Mr. Stephen H. P. Pell, to Hon. James A. Roberts, President of the New York State Historical Association, to Frederick B. Richards, Secretary of the New York State Historical Association, to Dr. George F. Kunz, President of the American Scenic and Historic Preservation Society, to Hon. Charles B. Alexander, to Hon. McDougall Hawkes, to Carl A. Heber, the sculptor, to Paul Faguet of the French Line, to Hon. William Cary Sanger, to Hon. Francis Lynde Stetson, Hon. Robert Roberts, to Hon. Job E. Hedges, to President Guy Potter Benton, LL. D., of the University of Vermont, to President John M. Thomas, D. D., of Middlebury College, to President Charles H. Spooner, Ph. D., of Norwich University, and to others, in addition to the invitations sent to members of the New York and Vermont Tercentenary Commissions, and to some prominent citizens of Vermont.

The special invitations included in most instances the ladies of the gentlemen so invited and they were present at all the exercises.

The Board of Governors of the Lake Champlain Association through its Secretary, Percival Wilds, sent to its members notice they were invited to the dedicatory exercises and to accompany the guests on the steamer “_Ticonderoga_” through the lake.

President Frank S. Witherbee and many members of the Association were present at the dedicatory ceremonies of the Crown Point and the Plattsburgh memorials. The officers and members of the Lake Champlain Association took a deep interest in the Tercentenary celebration and from time to time rendered assistance to the Tercentenary Commissioners in various ways, and especially so in assuming the responsibility and conduct of the banquet to the French delegation at the Waldorf-Astoria in New York City on May 1, 1912.

In arranging for the dedicatory exercises, no effort was made to augment the attendance, nor to rival in elaboration the programme of the Tercentenary celebration of 1909.