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ON THE EVE OF THE TRAGEDY. I

BY RAYMOND RECOULY

[The following is the first of a series of articles, written by the distinguished editor of this review, describing incidents attending the outbreak of the war. The present installment is substantially an interview with Jules Cambon, French Ambassador at Berlin in 1914. The next installment will contain the account by his brother, Paul Cambon, Ambassador at London at the same time, of events in Great Britain during those critical days.]

From La Revue de France, June 15
(PARIS INDEPENDENT CONSERVATIVE SEMI-MONTHLY)

THE Kaiser was at Kiel, on board his yacht, which was sailing in the annual regatta. As usual, he was exceedingly busy, hurrying about hither and thither, giving orders, and trying to manage the whole affair himself. Suddenly a little steam-launch was observed, hastening at full speed toward the yacht, as if to put someone aboard. The Kaiser made a peremptory sign that she was to sheer off. Instead of obeying, however, she continued to approach. When she was but a few yards from the royal yacht, Admiral Müller, who was standing near the steersman, signaled that he had an important message to deliver. He waved a paper, placed it in his cigarette-case, and running alongside the Kaiser's yacht, skillfully threw the case aboard.

A sailor picked it up and handed it to Wilhelm. The latter opened the cigarette-case and unfolded the telegram. Turning pale, he let the paper fall from his hand, ejaculating: 'We must begin all over.' At once he gave orders to turn his boat about and abandon the race.

What had happened at Konopicht when the Kaiser and Archduke Francis Ferdinand met there? No one knows exactly. Probably the Kaiser succeeded in converting the heir of Austria to his own policy and opinions. His influence

over the Hapsburg Crown Prince was very strong, particularly through the latter's morganatic wife, whom the German court had flattered and favored from the first.

I spent the first few days of July in France, returning to Berlin shortly before the fourteenth. During the usual Embassy reception to the French colony on Bastille Day, I found sentiment somewhat agitated. A good deal of strong talk was being heard. However, big talkers are not always the best fighters. We knew absolutely nothing as to Austria's intentions, or the character of the note it was preparing to deliver to Serbia.

My colleagues, the English and the Russian ambassadors, were absent. We had not the slightest hint of the famous Council of War, supposed to have been held at Potsdam on July 5. You know that the Germans are past masters at guarding secrets. None the less, I was disturbed. I saw von Jagow, Secretary of State, almost daily; but I was unable to get an interview with the Chancellor, BethmannHollweg, with whom I had been very intimate, and with whose family my wife and daughter were most friendly. Bethmann was an honest sort of man - he proved that the day he made that famous remark about 'a scrap of

paper' - and possibly feared he might let something slip which would give me a clue to what was preparing.

However that may be, Austria's ultimatum to Serbia came like a thunderclap. My mind was made up the moment I read it. I was convinced that we could not avoid war, but that we must try to do so. We must make every effort to maintain peace. Since Germany was determined to attack us, we must prove to the world that she was solely responsible for the war. This was my animating motive during the days that followed. Above all, I wished to avoid repeating our unhappy blunder in 1870. It was necessary to leave Germany full initiative to place the responsibility for hostilities solely upon her. We must let Germany attack us. Only thus were we assured of England's aid.

ly ironical look: 'You have your reports. We have ours, which are just the opposite. We are certain that England will remain neutral.'

I left him in that way. Before returning home, I stopped as usual to see my English colleague, Sir Edward Goschen, with whom I had a complete understanding. We interchanged information, and by comparing our respective reports, managed to keep very correctly informed. I told him all that had occurred at my visit with von Jagow. I repeated to him word for word our concluding remarks. He said to me: 'So far as the attitude of my country is concerned, I agree with you absolutely. Unhappily I am not authorized to say it.'

That was the great misfortune, the great tragedy, of this fatal week. If Germany had known that she would have to fight England, I believe she would not have risked war. But she flattered herself with the hope that England would either keep out entirely or, if she fought, would not come in until France was crushed. However, we must recognize that England could hardly act otherwise than she did. It is easy for us now to forget the strength of the ties which at that time still united the two courts and the two nations. France had been England's enemy for centuries. Prussia was her historical ally. Religious sympathy reinforced old political traditions. We Frenchmen are habitually prone to undervalue the religious factor in international politics. It is very powerful. We are apt to think that others look at religious questions just as we do. That is not true. Can anyone deny, for instance, that religious sentiment has much to do with the hostility which a certain section of English opinion has very recently exhibited toward Poland? All Nonconformist England, the Von Jagow regarded me with a slight- backbone of the Liberal Party, was

Three days after the ultimatum was delivered to Serbia, I had a long interview with von Jagow and said to him, as I was leaving, looking him straight in the eye: 'Will you let me speak to you as man to man?' He nodded assent. 'Well, then, let me tell you that what you are planning will prove a fearful blunder. You will gain nothing and you risk everything. France will defend herself infinitely better than you fancy. England, which made the fearful blunder of letting us be crushed in 1870, will not repeat it. Be sure of that. You may trust my word. I am not speaking lightly. Will you grant that I am one of the ten men in Europe who knows the international situation best? I declare to you that, for both material and moral reasons, England cannot keep out of a conflict. She will be forced to join us. Have you considered the formidable consequences of that? You will find yourself alone, pitted against all Europe, with your only ally a wormeaten decadent empire.'

VOL. 310-NO. 4022

most reluctant to break with Germany. It was most fortunate for us that a Liberal Cabinet was in power. If the Liberals had been in opposition, they might have delayed British intervention. Happily they were responsible for the government. They were completely informed as to the facts. They had to make the decision. They knew from the beginning that their Conservative opponents would not object to an energetic policy, but would rather try to compel them to adopt one. So they acted promptly.

Let me relate, in this connection, a curious anecdote. It was just after the Agadir crisis. I went one day to visit Kiderlen-Waechter. He was a man who had his faults, but he possessed a frankness which at times verged on the brutal. Of all the Germans with whom I have dealt, he is the one with whom, upon the whole, I got along best. So I said to him bluntly: 'Why in the devil have you exploded this Agadir thing on us! What's your purpose? What good will it do? You've compromised the relations of our two countries, run the risk of starting a war, aroused Nationalist sentiment in France, awakened the distrust, and even the hostility, of England; and what do you get by it? Even in Germany, the public is furious with you. The people think they have been humiliated. They are convinced that their country has received a slap in the face. Why did you send that warship to Agadir?'

He pondered a moment and said: 'Good! Since you ask, I will answer honestly. Last spring, our Crown Prince went fox-hunting in England. You know the English, how courteously and cordially they treat their guests. He was shown great attention everywhere. Statesmen, cabinet ministers, men of the world, ladies of high rank, eagerly sought the honor of being introduced to him and of being invited to the recep

tions given to him. Everywhere he heard the most friendly and flattering sentiments expressed toward Germany. This hospitable welcome, prodigal kindness and courtesy, completely turned his head - which is n't very well balanced anyway. He took everything that was told him at its face-value. He came back convinced that he was the most popular prince in England, that all Englishmen are the devoted friends of Germany, and that consequently England would never, under any circumstances, side with France in a conflict with Germany. He repeated all this to the Kaiser, with exaggerations of his own, and there you've got the real cause of the Agadir affair.'

From the first moment the Belgian government, as you know, appreciated the exceptional gravity of the crisis. I was very intimate with its able representative at Berlin, my old friend Baron Beyens. We dealt with each other in absolute confidence. The previous autumn he had informed me, at the order of his sovereign, of a confidential interview between Wilhelm and the King of Belgium, in which the Kaiser said that war with France was inevitable. A few months later, I was able to return this favor. I had dined at the house of von Jagow, then Minister of Foreign Affairs. I recall in that connection that Countess X-, who later married a Pole, chanced to be seated at my side. She grasped my hand under the table and whispered in my ear: 'Aren't you soon going to rid Europe of these Prussian pigs?'

I took advantage of the opportunity to ask von Jagow just what certain overtures, which he had made shortly before to my embassy councilor regarding a railway agreement in Central Africa, amounted to. I was really in favor of such an agreement, which would promote the economic development of that region and possibly lead to the

friendly coöperation of our two countries in other ways. Von Jagow replied that the project was being considered, and that England, Germany, and France would soon have the matter before them.

I said: 'In that case, it will be necessary to invite Belgium, which has an immense African empire, and might justly be offended if not invited to our conference.'

Von Jagow objected: 'I don't agree with you. If an arrangement is made as I hope, it will be at the expense of Belgium. King Leopold's unbounded ambition and avarice made him take on a job altogether too big for his country. Belgium is utterly unable to develop that great territory. It is too big a task for her strength and her resources. Some day she will have to give it up. Furthermore, the day of little governments in Europe is passed. With our growing economic interdependence and the improvement of communication, these petty states are bound to disappear, or at least to be drawn into the orbit of the great powers.'

I at once objected to von Jagow, that France would have nothing to do with such a policy as that. 'Our views are just the opposite. We are seeking to protect and strengthen the little states. That is not a mere caprice of the moment with us. France has been the champion of the small powers for centuries, ever since Henry IV. If you keep on that line, we shall not follow you. You can be certain that England will not follow you either.'

Von Jagow hastened to assure me that he expressed merely his personal views. However, I still attached great importance to his statement. I at once informed my Belgian colleague of his remarks, and he transmitted them to his government.

So Belgium was prepared. From the moment the new crisis arose, the au

thorities there felt that an attempt would be made to involve them. They were on the alert. The Cabinet at once delivered to Germany and France its famous demand that Belgium's neutrality should be guaranteed. France immediately assented, while Germany evaded a reply. If there was to be a war, everything depended on England's aid. Now Belgium was the tenderest point of all for the English.

From the very outset, our agents brought me from every hand reports of Germany's military preparations. They were being carried out on a grand scale, and, what was most disturbing, without much attempt at concealment. On July 26, the German fleet was ordered to leave Norway and return to Kiel. Preliminary arrangements for mobilization began at Thionville, in Baden. The first four classes received orders to be ready for any eventuality. On July 29, our Consul-General at Frankfurt reported to me that important troop-movements were under way. He observed the arrival of regiments in full field-equipment. Bridges and railways were guarded. The General Staff and the army were taking things in hand. It was on the evening of the twenty-ninth that the famous War Council was held at Potsdam, at which the Kaiser presided, and where the General Staff brought all its influence to bear to insist upon immediate mobilization. There the generals overrode the last hesitating resistance of the civilian officers of the government, and it was decided to call the troops to the colors the next day.

Immediately after this meeting, Bethmann-Hollweg hastened in the night to my English colleague. He disclosed to him, in a manner but slightly disguised, the imminence of the catastrophe. If Great Britain would remain neutral, he assured him, 'the imperial government is ready to give

every guaranty that, in case of victory, it will not seek to enlarge its territories at the expense of continental France.' He refused to make a similar engagement regarding the French colonies. In respect to Belgium, Germany's operations would depend on the acts of France.

Mr. Goschen, the British Ambassador, at once informed me of this conversation. My apprehensions were much increased. The following day, July 30, at 12.30, a semi-official daily, the Lokal Anzeiger, published a special edition announcing the mobilization of the German army and navy. A horde of newsboys distributed this paper throughout the capital. The public fairly snatched copies from the venders' hands. An hour later, the edition was suppressed by order of the authorities. Von Jagow himself telephoned me that the report was false, and begged me to notify my government.

I had no faith in this denial. I was convinced that mobilization had been decided upon the night before, but that for certain reasons the telegrams which had passed between the Kaiser and the Tsar, and more particularly England's reservation of complete liberty of action the measure had been postponed.

At this critical moment, when the peace of the world might still have been preserved, the civil heads of the German government, realizing their frightful responsibility, hesitated for a single instant. They tried to rally and to stop the movement of the fearful machine which slowly was getting under way. But the militarists returned to the charge with more energy and determination than ever. They soon swept everything before them. It was just at this moment that one of my foreign colleagues saw Zimmermann, UnderSecretary of State. The latter said that the General Staff insisted on im

mediate mobilization, asserting that 'any delay would constitute a loss for Germany.' Toward the end of the day, von Jagow, whom I went to see, made the same remark to me. He, too, described the vigorous pressure being brought to bear by the army heads. At the conclusion of this interview, I wired Paris: 'My impression is that the chances of peace are less.'

After that I considered all hope lost. We felt as if we were being carried off our feet, picked up, and whirled through space by some dizzy cyclone, where events were hurtling irresistibly onward toward a single goal war.

The next day, July 31, von Jagow summoned me. He said that, to his great regret, he was obliged to report that, in view of the general mobilization of the Russian army, Germany must put herself in a posture of defense. His government had decided to declare a 'state of danger of war' - Kriegsgefahrzustand. He at once demanded that Petrograd demobilize its forces on the Austrian as well as the German frontier, under threat of Germany's mobilization. He added that the German Ambassador at Paris had been directed to inform the French government of this decision, and to ask what attitude France would assume in case of a war between Russia and Germany.

From this moment, my situation became increasingly difficult. The German authorities suppressed telegrams directed to me, so that I was left practically without instructions. In order to impress the British government and to prove that the war was not due to us, I begged Paris not to order me to demand my passports. I said it was better to have the Germans show me the door. The telegram in which Viviani notified me, on August 3, that the German Ambassador had just delivered an official declaration of war and demanded his passports, and that

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