by Simon Heffer
That morning The Times reported ‘scenes of great excitement’ in Paris once news spread that diplomatic relations had been ruptured between Serbia and Austria–Hungary.119 There was ‘war fever in Vienna.’120 In case British readers were slow on the uptake, its correspondent in Paris added that ‘the imminent possibility of a general European conflagration has come as a bolt from the blue to the French’.121 For the general public, the same was true in Britain. Awareness of a possible European war had grown in the preceding days, and the idea it might involve Britain would now unleash itself. The paper noted a widespread belief in France that the crisis was the result of a ‘German plot’, and that the Belgian minister of war was ‘taking precautionary measures’ by recalling soldiers on leave.
The Times in an editorial that day asked: ‘Surely the EMPEROR FRANCIS JOSEPH, who has given the world so many proofs of his devotion to peace, is not going to jeopardise the safety of his Empire and the tranquillity of Europe because Servia has not at once acceded to the whole of the very humiliating contents of the Note?’ Serbia had made ‘unheard-of concessions for a sovereign state’, and by rejecting them Austria was putting herself very much in the wrong.122 However, the newspaper also raised the question of possible British involvement in the European war it saw as the inevitable consequence of Austria’s pig-headedness: ‘Should there arise in any quarter a desire to test our adhesion to the principles that inform our friendships and that thereby guarantee the balance of power in Europe, we shall be found no less ready and determined to vindicate them with the whole strength of the Empire, than we have been found ready whenever they have been tried in the past.’
Such talk not only alerted the public to the possibilities of a war involving Britain: it also sent the London stock exchange into a precipitate fall, mimicking continental bourses. Grey returned to his office that Monday morning to learn of an Austrian mobilisation. De Bunsen, in two dispatches sent at midnight on 26 July, told him mobilisation was expected to be complete by 31 July and that a concentration of troops would be on the Serbian border by 5 August. The Russian ambassador to Vienna told de Bunsen that his country now believed Austria–Hungary ‘are determined on war, and that Russia cannot possibly remain indifferent.’123 The Russians stepped up pressure on Britain but Buchanan held the line, despite Russian insistence that Germany would only act to call Austria off if Britain publicly allied itself with France and Russia.
Crowe spelled out to Grey that Austria was mobilising; Russia would follow; Germany would then follow too and, given that its own mobilisation would be directed largely at France, France would have to follow at once. Crowe believed Austria had determined on war from the start and at whatever cost. If he was right about that – and he was certain he was – ‘it would be neither possible nor just and wise to make any move to restrain Russia from mobilising.’124 Since restraining Russia from mobilising had been the core of Grey’s policy, taking this advice from his German expert would require the cabinet to agree a profound change of approach. Grey had already reached that point. Once Austria and Russia had both mobilised, it was hard to see what would restrain them, or prevent Germany and France from following.
Crowe continued: ‘This however means that within 24 hours His Majesty’s Government will be faced with the question whether, in a quarrel so imposed by Austria on an unwilling France, Great Britain will stand idly aside, or take sides. The question is a momentous one’. Nicolson, advising Grey on the Serbian reply, said he felt it ‘practically concedes all the Austrian demands, and it is difficult to see how Austria can honestly proceed to hostile operations when Servia has yielded so much.’125 Most of its cavils were requests for clarification. Crowe thought the reply ‘reasonable’ and that ‘if Austria demands absolute compliance with her ultimatum it can only mean she wants a war.’ Thus Grey’s two senior advisers both believed that if the Austrians proceeded against Serbia they would be so in the wrong that Russia would have to mobilise, and Britain would have to choose.
Nicolson was increasingly frustrated that Germany, while professing to want peace, would not use its weight to restrain Austria. France had asked the German ambassador to Paris to urge this on his government, a request met equivocally. Nicolson too grasped that Austria wanted to supplant Russian influence in the Balkans, hence its desire for a war. On the afternoon of 27 July this was confirmed by a telegram from de Bunsen, telling Grey: ‘I believe that Austria–Hungary is fully determined on war with Servia, that she believes her position as a Great Power is at stake, that her note was drawn up so as to make war inevitable, and that she is unlikely to listen to proposals for mediation until punishment has been inflicted on Serbia.’126 He thought the Germans could do nothing, and said he wrote from a country ‘wild with joy’ at the prospect of war. ‘The outlook is bad,’ Crowe noted when he read this. ‘All now depends on what line Germany may be prepared to take.’127
That afternoon, following the foreign secretary’s statement in the Commons, Lichnowsky told him that Germany agreed to a four-power mediation between Austria and Russia, while reserving its right as an ally to help Austria if the latter were attacked. It seems Lichnowsky sincerely believed this to be his government’s view; but whether Berlin had been entirely straight with an ambassador it regarded as excessively Anglophile is far from clear, and Lichnowsky may not have appreciated the force with which the German military high command was pressing for a fight with the country’s rivals, to settle once and for all who ran Europe. Lichnowsky asked Grey, on behalf of the German government, to counsel restraint to Russia. Grey, whose charitable instincts were fading, told Lichnowsky the Serbs had gone further than could have been expected in placating Austria, which he felt was the result of Russian influence in Belgrade. ‘It was really at Vienna that moderating influence was now required.’128 Grey, hardening the line, also let the Russians know that the impression some of them had that Britain would ‘stand aside in any event’ was wrong, and countered by the decision not to disperse the Fleet: though Grey made it clear he was at this point promising no more than diplomatic action, despite this military readiness.
Diplomatic activity in Paris had almost closed down in Poincaré’s absence abroad. Now, however, the president had cancelled visits to the kings of Norway and Denmark en route from St Petersburg and was steaming for home. The acting foreign minister in Paris had seen the German ambassador, Bertie told Grey, but he had put the ball firmly in Russia’s court. Bertie said the French Foreign Ministry ‘look upon this as a bad sign’.129 Crowe thought the Germans were trying to drive a wedge between Russia and France; Nicolson felt Britain would best keep out of the French activity.
That evening Grey heard that Germany had shifted its position on the desirability of a four-power mediation, saying it would amount to a court of arbitration and could not, in Jagow’s opinion, happen other than at the request of Austria and Russia. Jagow had confirmed that Germany would have to mobilise if Russia did in the north; it might not do so if it mobilised in the south. It all appeared too late: Mensdorff arrived at the Foreign Office to tell Grey that ‘as an act of self-defence’ Austria was preparing to use force against Serbia. It felt that, in doing so, it would ‘serve a European interest’, given what an ‘element of general unrest’ Serbia had been.130
Mensdorff said his government felt that ‘they could count on our sympathy in a fight that was forced on them, and on our assistance in localising the fight, if necessary.’ Grey replied that he could not understand the constructions the Austrians had put on the Serbian reply, and had discussed the matter with Lichnowsky; Mensdorff said the reply might seem satisfactory, but in refusing cooperation with Austrian officials and police it would allow further subversion. Grey expressed amazement that Austria seemed to think it could fight Serbia without bringing in Russia; and did not see how the consequences of such a conflict would be ‘incalculable’ – a word used by the German government in its expression of desire for peace. While not threatening British involvement, Grey told Me
nsdorff that the Fleet had not dispersed, as had been planned, because of the ‘anxiety’ the British government felt. He considered Serbia’s reply ‘the greatest humiliation … that I have ever seen a country undergo’, and was disappointed that Austria had merely treated this prostration as ‘unsatisfactory as a blank negative.’
Bertie wrote privately to Grey from Paris on 27 July, saying: ‘I am sure that the French Government do not want to fight and they should be encouraged to put pressure on the Russian Government not to assume the absurd and obsolete attitude of Russia being the protectress of all Slav states whatever their conduct, for this will lead to war.’131 He added that the Paris press was reporting, erroneously, that Germany had threatened France that unless other powers kept out of the quarrel ‘they would have Germany to deal with and the prospect of a general European conflagration.’132 Grey believed Germany’s refusal to talk ‘decided the fate of peace or war for Europe.’133 In 1918 he told Gilbert Murray, Oxford Regius Professor of Greek, that ‘the German veto on a Conference struck out of my hand the only effective instrument I could use for peace.’134 Even after four years of reflection, it seems not to have occurred to him that more active diplomacy on his part – leaving London not for a trout stream but for some European chancelleries, to press on his counterparts the catastrophic possibilities of a Europe-wide conflict involving all its great powers, even if he could not threaten British involvement in it – might have been an even more effective instrument.
The first shots in that conflagration were fired on the night of 27/28 July. Grey learned on 28 July that the Hungarians had captured two Serbian merchant vessels, and two Serbian steamers had been fired on. On his own initiative, Crackanthorpe urged the ‘greatest prudence and moderation’ on the Serbian government. However, from this point onwards every step taken seems irrevocable. Grey learned from Buchanan that Sasonov had become more ‘conciliatory’, but shortly afterwards received a wire from de Bunsen reporting a meeting between the Russian ambassador to Vienna and the Austrian Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.135 The ambassador had said a conflict would be ‘impossible’ to localise, as Russia had given way before on such matters and would not do so again.136 The ambassador asked for talks: but the under-secretary referred to what he described as the ‘skirmish’ on the Danube in which Serbian boats were damaged, though he described the Serbs as the aggressors. However, the Austrians intimated that they would empower their ambassador in St Petersburg to have direct talks with Sasonov: something Crowe welcomed as ‘the first ray of hope’ and Grey as ‘most satisfactory’.137
The hope was short-lived. Grey immediately heard from Benckendorff that Sasonov, in a frank discussion in St Petersburg with the Austrian ambassador, had stupidly told him Serbia could not hope to fulfil what it had promised: a gaffe that enraged Grey, who had told the Germans the opposite. The Russians claimed a mistranslation: but in so febrile an atmosphere, with rumours swirling around the press and the governments of all Europe’s capitals, it was far from helpful. Benckendorff asked Grey for Britain to support Russia and France: Grey could give no such undertaking. That was consonant with public opinion; that day the Neutrality League – the idea of Norman Angell, a former Paris editor of the Daily Mail who would become a Labour MP and win the Nobel Peace Prize – published a manifesto, half a million copies of which circulated, contending that for Britain to support Russia would lead to Russia dominating Europe to the detriment of Germany, a nation ‘racially allied to ourselves and with moral ideals largely resembling our own.’138
The French government agreed to the four-power intervention; but that same afternoon the Germans formally rejected it, following Sasonov’s freelancing gaffe – though Berlin claimed they still wished to pursue peace. The chances of acting in concert appeared impossible; misunderstanding and mistrust became almost wilful. Grey telegraphed to Berlin that he would drop the four-power idea if there could instead be direct talks between St Petersburg and Vienna. Crowe suggested putting Germany on the spot and asking what, instead, it thought the powers should do; Nicolson advised making no fresh proposal, and allowing talks between Vienna and St Petersburg. Early that evening Grey told Sir Edward Goschen, the ambassador in Berlin, that he would put Crowe’s question direct to Jagow, depending on progress in any talks between Russia and Austria.
That afternoon Asquith had been asked in the Commons whether he had any new information. ‘There are no new developments sufficiently definite to enable any further statement to be made,’ he replied.139 Asked by Lord Hugh Cecil whether hostilities had broken out, Asquith said: ‘we have no definite information about that.’ He told Venetia Stanley, his would-be inamorata, that one at least of his colleagues wanted war: ‘Winston … is all for this way of escape from Irish troubles.’140 A telegram reached Grey from Crackanthorpe at 6.45 p.m. to say Austria had declared war on Serbia. Acland, Grey’s under-secretary, announced this almost immediately to the Commons. Meanwhile, detachments of soldiers were posted around naval bases on the English coast as an armed guard: the Fleet was almost entirely mobilised, but at anchor.
De Bunsen had warned Berchtold, Austria’s foreign minister, of the potential consequences of a conflict. Diplomatic to the last, de Bunsen emphasised that whereas the Austrians had put their quarrel with Serbia first, Britain had put the peace of Europe first. At 11 p.m. Grey heard from Buchanan that Russia would mobilise the moment Austria moved against Serbia. Lichnowsky assured Grey that his government had contacted Berthold to urge him to talk to Sasonov, and breathlessly exclaimed: ‘I begin to hope that it has once more been possible owing to Anglo-German collaboration to save the peace of Europe.’141
Grey’s officials, however, were mired in pessimism. Nicolson wrote to Buchanan about Britain’s response being regarded by Russia as a ‘test of our friendship’, and how the Russians failed to understand that a British government had to act with regard to public opinion: which certainly did not, at that stage, favour fighting in league with the Russians against the Germans.142 He added that ‘I think we have made it perfectly clear that in any case neither Germany nor Austria could possibly rely with any certainty upon our remaining neutral’, and believed the clearest sign was the order not to disperse the Fleet. He told Buchanan how the press now understood that Britain could not stay out of the impending fight: and asked him to tell St Petersburg that ‘there is no doubt whatsoever that were we drawn into this conflagration we should be on the side of our friends.’ By that stage that was also the private view of the foreign secretary himself.
IV
Over the next few hours it became clear that Russia would not just act, but also expected the support of her entente partners. Buchanan wired from St Petersburg to say Sasonov had emphasised that the moment the Austrians crossed the Serbian border Russia would mobilise. ‘I asked,’ Buchanan continued, ‘whether it would not be possible in last resort for Emperor Nicholas to address personal appeal to Emperor of Austria to restrict Austria’s action within limits which Russia could accept. His Excellency replied to my question by repeating that only way to avert war was for His Majesty’s Government to let it be clearly known that they would join France and Russia.’143 Ironically, the German ambassador to St Petersburg had implored Buchanan to try to calm Sasonov down: Buchanan told his confrère that he might be better employed advising his colleague in Vienna to do something similar to the Austrians. Buchanan told the German that ‘Russia was thoroughly in earnest, and that nothing would avert general war if Austria attacked Servia.’144 That he did this suggests the German diplomatic service believed Russia was still not serious.
Soon there was no doubt: by the time Nicolson read Buchanan’s dispatch on 29 July, word had reached London that Russia was mobilising in its southern regions. This seemed another dangerous, irrevocable step. In Berlin the previous afternoon Goschen had called, at the Chancellor’s invitation, on Bethmann, who assured him Germany was doing all it could to get Russia and Austria to parley. He maintained that the quarrel be
tween Austria and Serbia was none of Russia’s business; and he, having heard also that Russia had mobilised fourteen army corps in the south, wondered how far he would get preaching moderation to Austria. ‘This decision rested with Russia and Russia alone,’ Goschen reported Bethmann as saying; he emphasised ‘his desire to co-operate with England and his intention to do his utmost to maintain general peace.’145 His final words to Goschen were: ‘A war between the Great Powers must be avoided.’
Nicolson observed: ‘There have certainly been no indications that Germany has exercised any moderating influence at Vienna. It is going rather far to put the responsibility on Russia, who has been willing to adopt any and every course likely to lead to peace. I suppose Germany wishes Russia to join with the other Powers in keeping the ring while Austria strangles Servia.’146 Grey recalled that on reading this dispatch ‘I felt really angry with von Bethmann Hollweg and von Jagow.’147 He thought Berlin had taken a casual view of Vienna’s behaviour: ‘The complacency with which they had let Austria launch the ultimatum on Serbia was deplorable.’ He also believed Berlin had blocked the proposed conference, which he regarded as ‘still worse’. He did not, of course, know about the ‘blank cheque’, which would have explained everything.