Most of the Frenchmen present had expressed in no uncertain terms their idea that the treaty was not drastic enough, and that M. Clemenceau had betrayed his country’s interests. The English, on the other hand, thought it was too drastic. The Americans were divided, but I think the majority shared the British sentiment. The Italians and Japanese and most of the small powers had no particular interest in the treaty. Fearing to be assassinated if they returned home after having put China’s name to such a document, the Chinese at the last minute refused to sign. Of the smaller states only the Belgians, Poles, and Czechoslovaks were vitally interested, and none of these was satisfied. Denmark received back Schleswig, but she had had to remonstrate vehemently with the Allies to prevent them from giving her more than she wanted! Russia, whose consent and coöperation were essential for the enforcement in future years of a treaty of this character, especially the supplementary Polish treaty, was not only absent but had made it known that she considered the treaty null and void. The ceremony was like a funeral; for a consciousness of failure was present among the signatories. And among some was a consciousness of shame. I talked to two of the principal signatories on the eve of the ceremony, and they told me that they felt they were going to do something dishonorable. Another signatory, representing one of the British dominions, told me on the evening of June 28 that it had been the saddest day of his life. But the only delegate who protested openly was General Smuts of South Africa. As I write I hold in my hand his mimeographed statement, which was distributed at the moment he appended his signature. This copy was given to me by Sir George Riddell as General Smuts got up to walk to the table where the treaty lay. Said the general: