The peace-loving Czar promptly telephoned two of his generals and in a three-cornered conversation cancelled the order for general mobilisation, insisting instead on partial mobilisation which meant only calling up the troops in the four southern districts. A messenger was rushed to the Post Office and at 9 p.m. managed to stave off the fateful telegram which was on the verge of being dispatched to the far-flung Russian Empire. Once again Europe tottered back from the precipice.
That same day, July 29th, the Kaiser and Bethmann-Hollweg waited all day for an answer to their “peace-pledge” proposal of the night before. Telegrams, however, took many hours to go and come, for they had to be put into cypher, transmitted, and decoded the other end. By the end of the day the only news from Vienna was a dispatch from Count Tschirschky, written the day before, which ended: “Count Berchtold is in very good spirits, and is proud of the countless telegrams of congratulations that are coming to him from every portion of Germany!”
The Kaiser’s nerves were nearly at breaking point. All day he had paced the floor at the New Palace. As the tension mounted he began to lash out wildly against his Chancellor for his incompetent handling of the crisis; now that things were going wrong he blamed him bitterly for allowing the Austrians to get the bit between their teeth, and for not having kept control in German hands. When Admiral von Tirpitz visited him that evening he found him complaining excitedly that he did not know what Austria wanted; the Serbs had conceded everything but a few bagatelles; since July 5th the Austrians had refused repeatedly to declare their aims. Admiral Tirpitz agreed that Bethmann was at fault and advised the Emperor, even at this late date, to appoint a new Chancellor, but William II replied that it would be a mistake as Bethmann enjoyed the confidence of Europe. The truth was that the Kaiser was so rattled he did not know what to do.
However, there was one bright spot on the horizon. The Emperor’s brother, Prince Henry, had arrived at Kiel the day before from a short stay in London. He sent the Kaiser a letter telling him that he had had a conversation with George V. “Georgie,” he wrote, was eager to see the struggle between Austria and Serbia localised and hoped that Germany could accept the mediation of the four powers “in order to restrain Russia.” The Prince continued: “He said further, to quote his own words, ‘we shall try all we can to keep out of this and shall remain neutral.’ I am convinced that this statement was made in all seriousness, as was also that to the effect that England would remain neutral at the start; but whether she will be able to keep so permanently I am not able to judge, but doubt it on account of her relations with France.”[382]
A fierce new hope leapt up within the Kaiser’s breast. It may seem extraordinary that William II, the son of an English princess who prided herself on her knowledge of British parliamentary rule, could have placed such reliance on the casual remark of a constitutional monarch made three days earlier. One must remember, however, that the Kaiser had looked upon Edward VII as a political force, not as a figurehead, and no one could say that he was wrong; but as a result he made the mistake of exaggerating the role of George V. When Admiral Tirpitz cautioned against placing too much reliance on the monarch’s remark, the Kaiser drew himself up and replied: “I have the word of a king; and that is sufficient for me.”[383]
George V would have been amazed if he had known the commotion his brief conversation with Prince Henry was causing at Potsdam. Before he went to bed on the night of July 26th he had written laconically in his diary: “Prince Henry of Prussia came to see me on Sunday July 26 at 9.30 a.m. and asked me if there was any news. I said the news was very bad and it looked like a European war and that he better go back to Germany at once. He said he would go down to Eastbourne to see his sister [The Queen of Greece] and he would return to Germany that evening. He then asked what England would do if there was a European war. I said: ‘I don’t know what we shall do, we have no quarrel with anyone and I hope we shall remain neutral. But if Germany declared war on Russia, and France joins Russia, then I am afraid we shall be dragged into it. But you can be sure that I and my Government will do all we can to prevent a European war.’ He then said — ‘Well, if our two countries shall be fighting on opposite sides, I trust that it will not affect our own personal friendship.’ He then shook hands and left the room, having been with me about eight minutes.”[384]
That night, while the Kaiser’s head was full of George V’s “promise of neutrality” as he now called it, Bethmann-Hollweg arrived at the New Palace. According to Admiral Tirpitz he, too, was nearing a state of collapse, for at last he realised that his policy of localisation would not work. At 9 p.m. a telegram had arrived from London couched in the strongest terms, clearly indicating that if a European war broke out it was improbable that England would stay out. Sir Edward Grey had called Prince Lichnowsky to him and told him that he did not want their warm personal relations to lead the Ambassador astray; he also wished to spare himself later the reproach of bad faith by making the position as clear as possible. Opinion in London, he said, which at first had been favourable to Austria and recognised that she must have satisfaction, now had altered because of Austria’s stubbornness and turned “completely to the other side.” Nevertheless, Britain probably would continue to be neutral if the conflict remained confined to Austria and Russia. But if Germany and France should be drawn in, as was much more likely, “then the situation would immediately be altered, and the British Government would, under the circumstances, find itself forced to make up its mind quickly. In that event it would not be practicable to stand aside and wait for any length of time…”
Although Bethmann apparently did not bring a copy of Grey’s telegram with him, he informed the Kaiser of its contents.[385] Admiral Tirpitz says that he “utterly collapsed” and suggested sacrificing the German Fleet in order to keep England out of the conflict. However, we have no accurate report of what went on at Potsdam. All we know is that when Bethmann returned to Berlin he summoned the English Ambassador, Sir Edward Goschen, and made a desperate bid for British neutrality. “Chancellor having just returned from Potsdam,” wired Goschen to London at midnight, “sent for me again tonight and made the following strong bid for British neutrality… as far as he was able to judge the key-note of British policy, it was evident that Great Britain would never allow France to be crushed. The Imperial Government was ready to give every assurance to the British Government provided that Great Britain remained neutral that in the event of a victorous war Germany aimed at no territorial acquisitions at the expense of France. In answer to a question from me, His Excellency said it would not be possible for him to give such an assurance as regards colonies…”[386]
London was astonished by this proposition. Bethmann’s assurance that although France’s territorial integrity would be guaranteed, no similar guarantees could be given about her colonial possessions, struck the British Foreign Office as incredible. “For Britain to make this bargain with Germany at the expense of France,” Sir Edward Grey wired Goschen, “would be a disgrace from which the good name of this country would never recover.” Not only did Bethmann’s suggestion shock London, but it seemed to be the final proof that Germany was determined to go to war.
The situation in Berlin, however, was one of fear and confusion. For the first time Bethmann-Hollweg earnestly endeavoured to apply the brakes to Austria. Between eleven and three in the morning he sent a spate of telegrams; one demanded an instant reply to the peace-pledge proposal; another, based on an earlier communication from Sir Edward Grey, who had passed on news that the Serbians might be willing to swallow all the points in the Austrian ultimatum, said: “Please show this to Berchtold immediately, and add that we regard such a yielding on Serbia’s part as a suitable basis for negotiation along with an occupation of a part of Serbian territory as pledge.” The fourth telegram was sharper. It was in answer to a report from St. Petersburg that Count Berchtold had turned down the idea of direct talks with Russia. “We are ready, to be sure, to fulfil our obligations as an ally
but must refuse to allow ourselves to be drawn into a world conflagration frivolously and in disregard of our advice. Please say this to Count Berchtold at once with all emphasis and with great seriousness.”
The final telegram sent at three in the morning was the strongest of all. Bethmann came to the conclusion that he must put his pride in his pocket and let Austria know that despite all Germany’s bravado and boastfulness she was afraid of a European war. “If Austria refuses all negotiations,” he wired, “we are face to face with a conflagration in which England will be against us; Romania and Italy according to all indications will not be for us, and we shall stand two against four Powers. Through England’s opposition the main blow will fall on Germany. Austria’s political prestige, the military honour of her army, as well as her just claims against Serbia, can be adequately satisfied by her occupation of Belgrade or other places. Through her humiliation of Serbia she will make her position in the Balkans, as well as in her relation to Russia, strong again. Under these circumstances we must urgently and emphatically urge upon the consideration of the Vienna Cabinet the adoption of mediation in accordance with the above honourable conditions. The responsibility for the consequences which would otherwise follow would be, for Austria and for us, an uncommonly heavy one.[387]
But it was all too late. If Bethmann had followed the Kaiser’s instructions thirty hours earlier and told the Austrians bluntly that “no more cause for war exists” his intervention might have been effective. Now, however, the irresponsible Count Berchtold was intoxicated by the role he was playing and refused to take Bethmann’s remonstrations seriously. He replied with almost unbelievable levity that it did not matter whether or not Belgrade swallowed all the points of the ultimatum, it was no longer possible for Austria to negotiate on the basis of the Serbian reply. “It might have been satisfactory before hostilities [the Austrian declaration of war] had begun,” he explained airily, “but now Austria’s conditions must take another tone.” As for the peace-pledge plan, the Count required more time for reflection.
While Bethmann was sending his frenzied and ineffective messages the Kaiser was having an equally harassing time at the New Palace. At one-thirty in the morning of the 30th, before he had gone to bed, he received a letter from the Czar announcing partial mobilisation against Austria. “The military measures which have now come into force,” wrote Nicholas, “were decided five days ago for reasons of defence on account of Austria’s preparations. I hope with all my heart that these measures won’t in any way interfere with your part as mediator which I greatly value. We need your strong pressure on Austria to come to an understanding with us. Nicky.”[388]
William II did not know, of course, how close Russia had come to general mobilisation; how the Czar had intervened just as the order was about to be sent over the wires and stopped it. Instead of being grateful to Nicholas he flew into one of his rages. “And these measures are for defence against Austria, which is in no way attacking him!!! I can not agree to any more mediation, since the Czar who requested it has at the same time secretly mobilised behind my back. It is only a manoeuvre in order to hold us back and to increase the start they have already got. My work is at an end.”[389]
This news was bad enough; but when he read Sir Edward Grey’s warning telegram forwarded by the Chancellor at eleven o’clock in the morning, his indignation mounted even higher. Grey’s assertion that “it would not be practicable for Britain to stand aside for any length of time” was not at all what the King had said to Prince Henry. The remark that he was speaking plainly “to spare himself the reproach of bad faith” drew from the Kaiser, “Aha, the common cheat.” “England reveals herself in her true colours,” he wrote at the bottom, “at a moment when she thinks that we are caught in the toils and, so to speak, disposed of! That common crew of shopkeepers has tried to trick us with dinners and speeches. The boldest deception, the words of the King to Henry for me. ‘We shall remain neutral and try to keep out of this as long as possible.’ Grey proves the King a liar, and his words to Lichnowsky are the outcome of an evil conscience, because he feels that he has deceived us. At that, it is as a matter of fact a threat combined with a bluff, in order to separate us from Austria and to prevent us from mobilising, and to shift the responsibility for the war. He knows perfectly well that if he were to say one single serious sharp and warning word at Paris and Petersburg, and were to warn them to remain neutral, both would become quiet at once. But he takes care not to speak the word, and threatens us instead! Common cur! England alone bears the responsibility for peace and war, and not we any longer! That must also be made clear to the world. W.”[390]
These outpourings only emphasize that William II, who had the power to rule, was incapable of exercising it; while Bethmann-Hollweg, who had been given the authority to rule, shrank from decisive action. Instead, they both sat back, the one given up to vituperative abuse and the other to futile gestures, and let events take their course. On July 30th, which proved to be the last day that peace might have been preserved, both men knew that Austria was unlikely to agree to mediation; that Russia was determined to fight if Serbia was attacked; and that Germany, France, and Britain would all be drawn into the conflict once it began. Germany did not want a world war. She knew that Vienna could get what it wanted by mediation. Why, then, did she not take matters into her own hand and force Austria to compromise? “Even now,” wrote the famous German historian, Erich Brandenburg, “the decisive word was not spoken, viz. that the terms of the alliance were not considered operative if Austria, by rejecting intervention, appeared the aggressor.”[391]
The truth was that the Kaiser was too hysterical and the Chancellor too incompetent to take charge of the situation. Although the Kaiser had forced Bethmann to urge mediation on Austria he lacked the capacity to follow up his impulse and to see that the command not only was delivered but accepted. He had never really ruled, only interfered, and it was too late for him to alter the habit of a life-time. Bethmann, on the other hand, was too rigid to meet new circumstances. According to Erich Brandenburg he did not dare reverse his stand for fear of alienating Austria. “It was the danger of losing our last ally, which had been like a burden on our statesmen since the formation of the entente…” This argument, however, is not convincing. If Germany needed Austria, surely Austria needed Germany even more. Where was Austria to go? Into the entente, which meant into the arms of Russia? Austria had no alternative but partnership with Germany.
A clever diplomat not only could have saved the faces of both Austria and Germany but exploited the situation to their advantage, because of the infinite relief that would have been felt in Britain and France. Instead German diplomacy failed miserably and catastrophically. Escape equipment had been handed to Germany more than once by both Britain and Russia. On July 28th Prince Troubetskoi begged the Kaiser’s personal military representative, General von Chelins, to urge his imperial master to take the dispute to The Hague Court of Arbitration. And the following day, the 29th, the Czar himself wired the Kaiser: “It would be right to give over the Austro-Serbian problem to The Hague Conference. Trust in your wisdom and friendship. Your loving Nicky.”
The fact that The Hague was an untried tribunal and had not yet acquired prestige was beside the point; as we know, the Serbs had already agreed to submit the dispute to The Hague, but far more significant was the fact that since the Court of Arbitration was the Czar’s own creation, it was the one sure way to stop Russian military intervention. William II, however, considered the suggestion almost insulting; that a great power should allow a tribunal to determine its vital interests was ludicrous. “Well, well! Thanks all the same,” he wrote in the margin; and Bethmann-Hollweg commented tersely: “The idea of The Hague Conference will be naturally excluded in this case.” The Kaiser wanted to find a solution, but only on his own terms.
On that same afternoon, the 30th, M. Sazanov drove to the Czar’s palace to urge his imperial master to re-issue the general mobilisation order which had
been quashed the night before in favour of partial mobilisation. The generals were in a state of great agitation for they maintained that it was impossible to call up only the four southern districts and that the whole mobilisation plan would be endangered if the Czar did not change his mind. The artillery bombardment of Belgrade which had taken place the day before had incensed M. Sazanov, and he told General Ianuschkevich, the Chief of Staff, that he would support any military requests he made. Consequently the General telephoned the Czar and tried to persuade him to return to the general mobilisation order. But the Czar was adamant and threatened to break off the conversation; General Ianuschkevich prevented this by saying that M. Sazanov was beside him and had something to ask. Sazanov then requested an immediate audience but the Czar replied that he was “too busy.” After a pause he added: “Is it all the same to you if I receive you at the same time with Tatischchev at 3 o’clock, because otherwise I have not a minute of free time today?” Sazanov thanked the Czar and said that he would arrive at the time suggested.[392]
The generals begged Sazanov to use every argument he could conjure up, both political and military. If he was successful, he was to telephone General Ianushkevich from the Palace, so that he immediately could convert the partial mobilisation into general mobilisation. “After this,” added the Chief of Staff, “I will retire from sight, smash the telephone, and generally take all measures so that I cannot be found to give any contrary orders for a new postponement of general mobilisation.”[393]
Sazanov found the Czar pale and nervous, fully conscious of the awful responsibility resting upon him, for it was understood by all military men that mobilisation meant war.[394] Furthermore, it was bound to provoke similar measures in Germany and once the machine began to move nothing would be able to stop it. “Think of the responsibility which you are advising me to take!” said the Czar. “Think of the thousands and thousands of men who will be sent to their deaths.” Sazanov argued that he would have nothing with which to reproach his conscience as war clearly had become inevitable. Diplomacy had finished its work. It was time for His Majesty to think of the safety of his Empire. The refusal to order general mobilisation would only dislocate the whole Russian military organisation and disconcert Russia’s allies. “It only remains to do everything necessary to meet war fully armed and under the conditions most favourable to us. Therefore it is better without fear to call forth a war by our preparations for it, and to continue these preparations carefully, rather than out of fear to give an inducement for war and be taken unawares.”
The Kaiser Page 39