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321 14 The President Falls Ill. Red Flag Parade in Paris. Wilson Orders the George Washington to Take Him Home. Italians Threaten to Leave Paris. Peace Conference Near Break Up. APRIL 3 The President fell ill today just after the Council of Four meeting and Admiral Grayson put him to bed. He has a severe cold with fever. The Four had up the Adriatic problems this afternoon, and Signor Orlando refused to be present when the Jugo-Slavs (represented by Ante Trumbić78 ) set forth their case. The Four jumps about from question to question and decides nothing. There is unlimited greedy bargaining, especially by the French and Italians, with only the President, growing grayer and grimmer all the time, standing upon principles of justice and right. He will probably be beaten. I only hope he goes down fighting for his principles. The King of the Belgians flew down from Brussels and came in this afternoon to see the President. He is a tall, blond, youthful-looking man—handsome and engaging. I saw him this morning. All agree that he is frank and honest— and much more moderate in his demands than some of the Belgian delegates. Italian friends of mine rushed around this evening with the story that Orlando and the entire delegation were going to leave the conference if they were not given Fiume. They were all wildly excited—in the Italian way—and indeed Orlando’s government will probably fall unless they do get Fiume. The Italians already have won back their unredeemed provinces with over 1 million Italians and yet they are willing to endanger everything for twenty- five thousand Italians in the wholly doubtful city of Fiume, which, even in the 78. Ante Trumbić (1864–1938) was foreign minister of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia and one of his country’s most prominent Croatian nationalists. 322 | The Paris Peace Conference pact of London, they never claimed. The worst of all the imperialists are the weaker, newer nations—Italy, Poland, Czecho-Slovakia, Jugo-Slavia. I had a long talk this evening with Colonel House, who was sitting on his lounge with a figured blanket over his chilly legs—quite serenely dictating his diary to Miss Denton. More and more he impresses me as the dilettante—the lover of the game—the eager secretary without profound responsibility. He stands, in the midst of great events, to lose nothing. He gains experiences to put in his diary, makes great acquaintances, and plays at getting important men together for the sheer joy of using his presumptive power. He is an excellent conciliator, but with the faults of his virtue, for he conciliates over the border of minor disagreements into the solid flesh of principle. I found him tonight quite cheerful—quite optimistic. He told me that if he had it to do he could make peace in an hour! Were the Italians going home—well and good, let them go. Was Lloyd George going to issue a defense (as I intimated to him) that might compromise the President—all right, let him issue it. I told him of the President’s illness (of which I had just been talking with Grayson) and said that Grayson told me that the President had probably contracted his cold from contact with Clemenceau, who coughs fearfully. “I hope,” said the Colonel genially, “that Clemenceau will pass on the germ to Lloyd George.” Thus, a bright, lively, little man, optimistic in the presence of tragic events —while the great serious man of the conference—gray, grim, lonely, there on the hill—fights a losing battle against heavy odds. The President can escape no responsibility and must go to punishment not only for his own mistakes and weaknesses of temperament, but for the fear and the greed of the world. I do not love him—but beyond any other man I admire and respect him. He is real. He is the only great man here. Clemenceau is serious, but serious for smaller causes, immediate gains. Lloyd George is a poor third, and yet he too is a serious man—who lives for the moment, is pleased with every new compromise, pledges reckless future benefits for each present gain. Orlando is an amiable southern Italian without depth or vision, playing little games of local politics while the world is afire. In the meantime Germany drifts always nearer bolshevism. APRIL 4 If it were not for the feeling that peace must be made, that the peace...

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