Thereupon Sir Edward Goschen, the British Ambassador in Berlin, called upon the Secretary of State and stated in the name of His Majesty’s Government that unless the Imperial Government
could give the assurance by 12 o’clock that night that they would proceed no further with their violation of the Belgian frontier and stop their advance, I had been instructed to demand my passports and inform the Imperial Government that His Majesty’s Government would have to take all steps in their power to uphold the neutrality of Belgium and the observance of a treaty to which Germany was as much a party as themselves.
Herr von Jagow replied that to his great regret he could give no other answer than that which he had given me earlier in the day, namely, that the safety of the Empire rendered it absolutely necessary that the Imperial troops should advance through Belgium. I gave his Excellency a written summary of your telegram and, pointing out that you had mentioned 12 o’clock as the time when His Majesty’s Government would expect an answer, asked him whether, in view of the terrible consequences which would necessarily ensue, it were not possible even at the last moment that their answer should be reconsidered. He replied that if the time given were even twenty-four hours or more, his answer must be the same. I said that in that case I should have to demand my passports. This interview took place at about 7 o’clock....
I then said that I should like to go and see the Chancellor, as it might be, perhaps, the last time I should have an opportunity of seeing him. He begged me to do so. I found the Chancellor very agitated. His Excellency at once began a harangue, which lasted for about twenty minutes. He said that the step taken by His Majesty’s Government was terrible to a degree; just for a word—“neutrality,” a word which in war time had so often been disregarded—just for a scrap of paper Great Britain was going to make war on a kindred nation who desired nothing better than to be friends with her. All his efforts in that direction had been rendered useless by this last terrible step, and the policy to which, as I knew, he had devoted himself since his accession to office had tumbled down like a house of cards. What we had done was unthinkable; it was like striking a man from behind while he was fighting for his life against two assailants. He held Great Britain responsible for all the terrible events that might happen. I protested strongly against that statement, and said that, in the same way as he and Herr von Jagow wished me to understand that for strategical reasons it was a matter of life and death to Germany to advance through Belgium and violate the latter’s neutrality, so I would wish him to understand that it was, so to speak, a matter of “life and death” for the honor of Great Britain that she should keep her solemn engagement to do her utmost to defend Belgium’s neutrality if attacked. That solemn compact simply had to be kept, or what confidence could any one have in engagements given by Great Britain in the future? The Chancellor said, “But at what price will that compact have been kept. Has the British Government thought of that?” I hinted to his Excellency as plainly as I could that fear of consequences could hardly be regarded as an excuse for breaking solemn engagements, but his Excellency was so excited, so evidently overcome by the news of our action, and so little disposed to hear reason, that I refrained from adding fuel to the flame by further argument....[94]
Here again it is most significant, in view of the subsequent clumsily framed defense by German apologists, to note that the German Secretary of State, Herr von Jagow, and his superior, the German Chancellor, did not pretend to suggest that the invasion of Belgium was due to any overt act of France.
With even greater frankness von Jagow stated the real purpose, which was, “to advance into France by the quickest and easiest way,” and to “avoid the more Southern route,” which, “in view of the paucity of roads and the strength of the fortresses,” would have entailed “great loss of time.”
The damning conclusion as to the guilt of Germany, which irresistibly follows from these admitted facts, is sought to be overborne by a pamphlet entitled “The Truth about Germany,” and subscribed to by a number of distinguished Germans, who are in turn vouched for in America by Professor John W. Burgess of Columbia College. He tells us that they are the “salt of the earth,” and “among the greatest thinkers, moralists, and philanthropists of the age.” To overbear the doubter with the weight of such authority we are told that this defense has the support of the great theologian, Harnack, the sound and accomplished political scientist and economist, von Schmoller, the distinguished philologian, von Wilamowitz, the well-known historian, Lamprecht, the profound statesman, von Posadowsky, the brilliant diplomatist, von Bülow, the great financier, von Gwinner, the great promoter of trade and commerce, Ballin, the great inventor, Siemens, the brilliant preacher of the Gospel, Dryander, and the indispensable Director in the Ministry of Education, Schmidt. (The adjectives are those of Professor Burgess.)
The average American, as indeed the average citizen of any country, when his natural passions are not unduly aroused, is apt to take a very prosaic and dispassionate view of such matters, and when he has reached his conclusion based upon everyday, commonplace morality, he is not apt to be shaken even by an imposing array of names, fortified by an enthusiastic excess of grandiloquent adjectives. The aristocracy of brains has no monopoly of truth, which is often best grasped by the democracy of common sense.
The defense of these notable representatives of German thought seems to be based upon the wholly unsupported assertion that “England and France were resolved not to respect the neutrality of Belgium.”