DELIVERY OF THE GERMAN ULTIMATUM TO BELGIUM

By Alfred de Bassompierre, an Eye-Witness.

THE author of this account was a member of the Belgian Government and was present on the evening of August 2, 1914, when the sudden and surprising German ultimatum to Belgium was delivered in Brussels, as here recorded. Preceding this most unexpected challenge, the German Government had been lavish in its assurances to Belgium, repeatedly denying any intention of violating Belgian territory in case of war. It was German policy, during the days of diplomatic strain that followed Serajevo, to keep Belgium in a state of quiet and trust, while the mobilization centers across the frontiers from Liege were filling with German troops. Then came the revelation, the disillusionment, in this ultimatum that was left at the Belgian Foreign Office by the German Minister, von Below-Saleske, as related.

ON August 1 France informed Germany that she would respect the neutrality of Belgium, but might find it necessary in her attitude to protect her own interests if that neutrality were violated by "another power." Germany kept silence. The German Ambassador, von Below-Saleske, had been reminded of German promises: that of Bethmann-Hollweg in 1911, that of von Jagow in 1913. The Ambassador had answered that Germany's sentiments had not changed. He made no answer for Germany, but gave it as his personal opinion that Belgium had nothing to fear from Germany. That day came news from Petrograd that Germany had declared war on Russia.

Then came the report of the invasion of Luxemburg. Belgium was stunned. Would Germany dare break over the Belgian frontier? Or was it true that her troops were marching so as to avoid Belgian soil?

"We tried to cling to this hope," says Alfred de Bassompierre, "as drowning men cling to straws. Suddenly an usher opened the door, and said unceremoniously and excitedly: 'The German Minister has just gone in to see M. Davignon.' It was the night of August 2d-3d, in the Foreign Office.

"We all three understood that the fate of our dear little country was about to be decided at that solemn moment.

"Ten minutes, which seemed hours to us, passed. Then, at 7:30, Herr von Below-Saleske's haughty silhouette appeared on the opposite side of the courtyard, under the glass penthouse in front of the Ministers' anteroom, and the German Emperor's representative passed unmoved into the street, where his motor car was waiting. With one bound we were in M. Davignon's room. It was empty, but at the same moment the Minister, who had gone into the next room to call his chief secretary, Comte le d'Ursel, returned, holding a paper in his hand, and followed by the Count and by M. Costermans, the under-secretary. All three of them seemed to be overwhelmed.

" 'Bad news, very bad news,' said the Minister, who was extremely pale. 'Here is the German note, of which Herr von Below has given me a summary.

They have demanded free passage for the German Army.'

" 'And what answer did your excellency give?'

" 'I took the paper. . . . We have twelve hours for our answer. . . . But I could not restrain my indignation. . . . Germany, who professed to be our devoted friend, proposing our dishonor. Let us translate the note.'

"The whole scene is indelibly printed on my memory the faces of the listeners, the thoughts that raced through my brain, even the look of the paper on which I wrote down in French the sentences of the ultimatum. I do not think that I can ever forget one of these details.

"We had completed about a third of the German note when the Prime Minister entered. He greeted us rapidly, and sat down by M. Davignon. M. de Broqueville crossed his arms, and remained lost in thought, his chin resting on his hand, until the translation was completed.

"When the work was finished, M. de Broqueville asked me to read the note aloud in French, which I did with profound emotion, though I made an effort to preserve the usual tone of my voice.

"A silence, a long tragic silence of several minutes followed the reading of the document. . . . We had just heard the infamous ultimatum for the first time, and we were thinking. . . . In the mind of each of us, perhaps, the tender memory of our beloved country, in its peace and innocence, was succeeded by some vague idea of the horrors that were coming upon it; but the one dominant thought in our minds was undoubtedly the determination to be worthy of our ancestors in the great days of trial. It was evident that the German note simply made use of the alleged intention of France to march upon the Meuse as a pretext, and that the ultimatum was, in the plainest words, a summons to sacrifice our neutrality in the interests of the formidable Germany. Those who had drawn it up had not for a moment imagined that Belgium, a country occupying so small a space upon the map of Europe, would have dared not to yield without protest to the will of our all-powerful neighbor. Those who read it, on the other hand, having a different mentality, immediately, spontaneously, without hesitation knew that only one answer was possible: a peremptory and indignant 'No!'

"The Secretary-General broke the silence. Addressing the Minister of War, Baron van der Elst, he asked him: 'Well, Your Excellency, are we ready?'

"There was a silence, shorter than the first, but not the less impressive. Then M. de Broqueville, very calm, and perfectly master of himself, replied slowly and in measured tones : . Yes, we are ready !' "