Memoirs of MRS. WOODROW WILSON FOREWORD On the train in Washington, D.C, starting to Saratoga Springs, N.Y., August 14,1927. FOR MANY YEARS I have been urged by editors and friends to write of the deep experiences it was my great privilege to share with my husband, Woodrow Wilson, in the White House and during the World War, and, by a caprice of fate, at foreign courts during the Peace Conference of 1918-19. Although I have never written a line for publication, I have decided to yield to these importunities and dedicate a months leisure from home to making a record of facts, many of which I am sure have not heretofore appeared in print. Armistice Day, 1937. That month has stretched itself to more than ten years, for only today has the last word of my memoirs been written. In the interim I have circled the globe, been several times to Europe, and had a delightful sojourn in Mexico City. October 11, 1938. After another year of consideration, and helpful criticism from close friends, I...

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