On the night of July 31st Jean Leon Jaurès, the famous leader of French Socialists, was assassinated while dining in a small restaurant near the Paris Bourse. His assassin was Raoul Villein. Jaurès had been endeavoring to accomplish a union of French and German Socialists with the aim of preventing the war. The object of the assassination appeared to have been wholly political. On the same day stock exchanges throughout the United States were closed, following the example of European stock exchanges. Ship insurance soared to prohibitive figures. Reservists of the French and German armies living outside of their native land were called to the colors and their homeward rush still further complicated transportation for civilians. All the countries of Europe clamored for gold. North and South America complied with the demand by sending cargoes of the precious metal overseas. The German ship Kron Prinzessin with a cargo of gold, attempted to make the voyage to Hamburg, but a wireless warning that Allied cruisers were waiting for it off the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, compelled the big ship to turn back to safety in America. Channel boats bearing American refugees from the Continent to London were described as floating hells. London was excited over the war and holiday spirit, and overrun with five thousand citizens of the United States tearfully pleading with the American Ambassador for money for transportation home or assurances of personal safety. [Illustration: WHERE THE WORLD WAR BEGAN] The condition of the terror-stricken tourists fleeing to the friendly shores of England from Continental countries crowded with soldiers dragging in their wake heavy guns, resulted in an extraordinary gathering of two thousand Americans at a hotel one afternoon and the formation of a preliminary organization to afford relief. Some people who attended the meeting were already beginning to feel the pinch of want with little prospects of immediate succor. One man and wife, with four children, had six cents when he appealed to Ambassador Page after an exciting escape from German territory. Oscar Straus, worth ten millions, struck London with nine dollars. Although he had letters of credit for five thousand, he was unable to cash them in Vienna. Women hugging newspaper bundles containing expensive Paris frocks and millinery were herded in third-class carriages and compelled to stand many hours. They reached London utterly fatigued and unkempt, but mainly cheerful, only to find the hotels choked with fellow countrymen fortunate to reach there sooner. The Ambassador was harassed by anxious women and children who asked many absurd questions which he could not answer. He said: