In the years that have succeeded his dismissal, a certain dry rot, due to the tendency of the Prussian Government to distribute its diplomatic offices among highborn but incompetent Junkers,—une petite gentilhommerie pauvre et stupide, as Bismarck once described them—had affected the efficiency of German diplomacy. Feebly attempting to walk in the steps of the Iron Chancellor, they wittingly or unwittingly reversed Bismarck’s policy by almost isolating Germany, consolidating its enemies, and then proceeding to attack them simultaneously. This may have been magnificent courage, but it was not wise statecraft. The might of the German sabre was supposed to offset these blundering disciples of Machiavelli.
Russia, England, and France were more fortunate and of their representatives few, if any, shone with greater intellectual distinction or moral courage than M. Jules Cambon. This distinguished diplomat had had exceptional experience in representing his country in various capitals of the world, and the author, who enjoyed the honor of his acquaintance, when he was accredited to Washington, already knew, what the documents in the French Yellow Book so clearly reveal, that Cambon was a diplomat of great intellectual ability. With acute sagacity he grasped the significance of the fateful events, in which he was a participant. To his calm and well-poised intellectuality he added a moral force, resulting from the clear integrity of his purpose and the broad humanity of his aims.
On more than one occasion he spoke “in the name of humanity,” and in his constant attempt to convince the German Foreign Office as to its clear duty to civilization to preserve the peace of the world, he became the representative, not merely of France, but of civilization itself.
In this great diplomatic controversy, one of the greatest in the history of the world, the three representatives, who stand out with the greatest intellectual and moral distinction, are Sazonof, Grey, and Cambon.
The first displayed the greatest sagacity in divining from the very outset the real purposes of Germany and Austria and in checkmating the diplomatic moves, which sought to make Russia apparently the aggressor.
Sir Edward Grey’s chief merit lay in his unwearying but ineffectual efforts to bring about a peaceful solution of the problem and also in the absolute candor—so unusual in diplomacy—with which he dealt on the one hand with the efforts of Russia and France to align England on their side at the beginning of the quarrel, and on the other, to continue friendly negotiations with Germany and Austria, without in any respect unfairly misleading them as to England’s possible ultimate action.
The French Ambassador will justly receive the approval of posterity for the high courage and moral earnestness with which he pressed upon the German Foreign Office the inevitable consequences of its acts.
The first chapter of the French Yellow Book consists largely of communications written from Berlin by M. Jules Cambon in the year 1913. Its most interesting document is his report from Berlin under date November 22, 1913, as to a conversation between the Kaiser and the King of Belgium, with reference to a change in the pacific attitude, which Cambon had previously imputed to the Kaiser.
To the world at large this statement would be more convincing if the source of the information had been disclosed. Those who know M. Jules Cambon, however, will have a reasonable confidence that when he states that he received the record of this conversation “from an absolutely sure source,” more than usual credence can be given to the statement. Reading between the lines, the implication is not unreasonable that the source of Cambon’s authority was King Albert himself, but this rests only on a plausible conjecture.
The fact that so trained an observer as the French Ambassador had seen in the Kaiser a marked change as early as 1913 is significant, and history may justify Cambon in his shrewd conjecture that “the impatience of the soldiers,” meaning thereby the German General Staff, and the growing popularity of his chauvinistic son, the Crown Prince, had appreciably modified the pacific attitude of the Kaiser, which had served the cause of peace so well in the Moroccan crisis. Cambon’s recital of the incident in question, written on November 22, 1913, justifies quotation in extenso.