by Simon Heffer
When formal word arrived from Vienna of the declaration of war, early on 29 July, Crowe and Nicolson advised Grey not to issue the usual declaration of neutrality. Nicolson observed: ‘I ask myself what is the use of exchanging views at this juncture … I am of the opinion that the resources of diplomacy are, for the present, exhausted … Appeals either to Austria or Russia to alter their course would be futile and would lead to misunderstandings.’ By lunchtime London had heard that shots were being fired in Belgrade; and Russia was mobilising, but had made a point of informing the German government of ‘l’absence en Russie de toute intention agressive contre l’Allemagne.’148
Matters had become sufficiently serious that the Americans offered their good offices. The King cancelled a trip to Goodwood, and it was reported that his plans to go to Cowes the following week, and to shoot grouse the week after, were on hold. A massive sell-off occurred on the stock exchange: it would close on 31 July and would not reopen until 4 January 1915. The Times declared that ‘the peace of Europe would at first sight seem to hang by a thread.’149 Although the Austrian ultimatum should have alerted the British people adequately to the growing dangers of conflict, it was only now that the question began to dominate the British press, drawing the public irresistibly in as the country contemplated the possibility not just of a war, but of a war in which Britain was not simply a spectator. The cabinet met before lunch and decided to put into force the precautionary measures outlined in the War Book, the manual – fortunately, updated only a month earlier – specifying the plan departments must implement during a national emergency. This included a call-up of the Territorial Army’s Special Service Section for guard duties, a signal, to the public and to other powers, of the start of British mobilisation. That afternoon the General Officer Commanding at Aldershot, Sir Douglas Haig, like other GOCs, received a telegram from the War Office ordering him to adopt ‘Precautionary Measures’ prior to full mobilisation.150
A new consideration, which would prove fundamental, and which Law had already brought up with Grey, then arose. Sir Francis Villiers, the British minister in Brussels, telegraphed Grey late on 28 July to tell him that the Belgian government had discussed ‘the various eventualities’ that might arise ‘and that they have determined to offer resistance to the utmost of their power should the integrity or neutrality of Belgium be assailed from any quarter.’151 In 1870 Britain had told both parties in the Franco-Prussian War that it would not tolerate such a violation of sovereignty, and Gladstone’s warning had been sufficient. Belgium did not at that stage expect that either France or Germany would breach its neutrality, but wanted to be prepared. There seemed no reason why history would not repeat itself.152 Preparations were under way to mobilise 150,000 men.
Underpinning discussions Britain and France had had since 1906 about military cooperation had been the understanding that France would never invade Belgium; and if Germany did there would be a combined Anglo-French effort to expel it.153 For a few more days yet, the entente powers continued to believe that the diplomatic conventions would be observed, in blissful ignorance of just how far German military thinking had changed since 1870–71. The construction of fortresses in eastern France, notably at Verdun, had forced Germany to come up with a different plan for attacking France from that used in the earlier war, when after countering a French attack they had entered through Lorraine. In accordance with the latest version of the plan drawn up in 1905–06 by Count Alfred von Schlieffen, Chief of the Imperial German Army General Staff, Germany now intended to attack France through Belgium.
The Schlieffen Plan entailed enormous risks for the Germans. First came the political calculation that Britain would not defend Belgian neutrality; second, a military one that France would have been defeated, with the Germans in Paris, by the time Britain could mobilise an expeditionary force to send to the Continent: firepower had increased exponentially since 1870–71 and Germany hoped it could blast its way to Paris (as it would in 1940). The War Office and the Foreign Office knew nothing about the Schlieffen Plan, but French intelligence, which as early as 1907 had had sight of German mobilisation plans, knew it was intended to devote most of Germany’s military might in attacks to the west. That such a move was now a central part of German strategy should have emphasised to Britain and France just how hawkish their potential enemy now was. The strategy was also emblematic of divisions in Berlin between the Kaiser’s aggressive military advisers and the more measured civilian ones, led by Bethmann Hollweg, who had only learned about the Schlieffen Plan in 1912.
On the afternoon of 29 July Lichnowsky visited Grey to assure him Bethmann was ‘endeavouring to mediate between Vienna and St Petersburg, and he hopes with good success.’154 Grey emphasised that the best possible solution would be an agreement directly between Russia and Austria; but told the German ambassador he understood the Austrians had rejected the Russian suggestion that their ambassador to St Petersburg should have such a discussion with Sasonov. He put the onus on Germany to sort this out, telling Lichnowsky that ‘mediation was ready to come into operation by any method that Germany thought possible if only Germany would “press the button” in the interests of peace.’155 Grey was pessimistic: he deduced it had become a question of the Kaiser’s popularity, and for Germany to urge Austria to back down would risk his looking weak.
But Grey also realised that with France increasingly likely to be drawn into the conflict, Britain would soon have to decide whether or not it joined them in any fight, irrespective of what happened to Belgium. On 25 July he had attended a dinner given by Lord Haldane and his sister. Haldane was the Lord Chancellor who, as war secretary, had undertaken the Army reforms of 1908 that included the design of a British Expeditionary Force and the establishment of the Territorial Army. He and his sister had invited Grey, and Morley, to dinner with Albert Ballin, the Anglophile German shipping magnate. Haldane recalled that Grey and he told Ballin that the maintenance of good relations with Germany ‘was dependent on Germany not attacking France.’156 This shows how early on Grey had decided Britain should fight if France were attacked. Ballin, whose commercial interests would be imperilled if war broke out, was strongly against fighting; he committed suicide in 1918 on hearing of the Kaiser’s abdication.
Poincaré returned to Paris on 29 July to find few signs among the public of desire for a war against Germany. Some saw it as an opportunity to recover Alsace and Lorraine, annexed by Germany after the Franco-Prussian War, but they were very much a minority. During the afternoon Grey saw Cambon and they agreed on the seriousness of the situation. Grey assured him he had just told Lichnowsky that Germany should not interpret the friendliness of Grey’s dealings with him as a sign Britain would not go to war: Britain would do whatever British interests dictated. Grey recalled that these interviews were ‘distressing’ to both him and Cambon, mainly because Grey could not say to Cambon what he had intimated off the record to Lichnowsky, that Britain could not sit by and watch a German attack on France.157 Grey stressed to Cambon, as he had to Lichnowsky, that if Germany and France entered the conflict that would change considerations for Britain. Cambon said he ‘anticipated a demand from Germany that France would be neutral while Germany attacked Russia. This assurance France, of course, could not give; she was bound to help Russia if Russia was attacked.’158 No such promise bound Britain.
That afternoon Asquith told the Commons – which listened in silence – that the situation was one of ‘extreme gravity’, and the government was doing all it could to prevent conflict.159 Lloyd George, who knew very little about finance and trade, despite having been chancellor for six years, sought to calm anxieties by refusing to convene a meeting of bankers to address the financial uncertainties, saying nothing at present necessitated it. He quickly enlisted his friend Lord Reading, luckily on his long vacation as Lord Chief Justice, to advise him on these matters, in which Reading was an expert.
Meanwhile, the Paris correspondent of The Times reported that gold had ‘disappeared
’ from circulation there, a warning to Britain of what might happen if the situation deteriorated further.160 The Admiralty withdrew destroyers patrolling the Irish coast to prevent gun-running, and the First Fleet sailed from Portland into the Channel. Every movement of troops, or recall of a soldier from leave, fed the rumour mill. All government departments, and the Armed Forces, were put in a state of readiness for a ‘precautionary period’. Asquith told Miss Stanley: ‘Of course we want to keep out of it, but the worst thing we could do would be to announce to the world at the present moment that in no circumstances would we intervene.’161
That evening Goschen reported further discussions with Bethmann, mainly the Chancellor’s protestations that he had urged his Austrian allies to confirm that their attack on Serbia was purely to enforce their ultimatum, not to exact territorial gains: but had had no reply from Vienna. Bethmann asked Goschen to impress upon Grey ‘that he was sincerely doing all in his power to prevent danger of European complications.’162 Indeed, Bethmann felt he had gone so far that he implored Goschen to insist to Grey that his intervention be mentioned to no other power: Bethmann had not even told Lichnowsky. Bethmann and others were trying to restrain the bellicose instincts of the German army, which wanted to assert German might in Europe, and feared it might lose an opportunity to do so. Crowe, who noted a disclosure that the Kaiser and the Tsar had exchanged telegrams, dismissed Bethmann’s views. Nicolson remarked that ‘I do not think that Berlin quite understands that Russia cannot and will not stand quietly by while Austria administers a severe chastisement to Servia.’
Buchanan reported that his French colleague in St Petersburg had reassured the German ambassador that no military preparation France was making was against Germany: all France had done was recall officers on leave, as Germany had. Buchanan later confirmed the Russian mobilisation, reporting that Austria had refused the invitation of direct talks with Russia. Grey saw Mensdorff, but refused to discuss the merits of Austria’s case against the Serbs, emphasising Britain’s displeasure at events. For the moment, there was nothing Grey could do: he waited while Bethmann tried to broker some sort of discussion between Russia and Austria, which Lichnowsky had said was the plan.
Asquith found Grey after dinner on 29 July, in the Foreign Office talking with Haldane; and the three discussed the situation until one o’clock in the morning, looking for the ‘miracle’ that might avert war.163 Haldane was noted for his intellect, based not least on his knowledge of German literature and philosophy; he was also alleged to have called Germany his spiritual home, but in fact had referred to that place as being a classroom at Göttingen, where he had studied; and he owned a dog named Kaiser. In the fevered times that were approaching, these interests would have consequences.
That night, as the three key figures in the British government shared their fears for the future, the Austrians shelled Belgrade. In Berlin, Bethmann sent for Goschen and made what the ambassador called a ‘strong bid’ for British neutrality.164 The Chancellor recognised it was ‘evident’ that Britain would never allow France to be ‘crushed’, but ‘such a result was not contemplated by Germany’. It would be ‘to his great regret’ that Germany’s obligations to Austria might ‘render a European conflagration inevitable’, but Germany sought ‘no territorial acquisitions at the expense of France,’ although it did not commit itself to avoiding acquiring French colonies. Grey said that if Germany took France’s colonies it would end France’s status as a great power, and could not be tolerated; and that ‘for us to make this bargain with Germany at the expense of France would be a disgrace from which the good name of this country would never recover.’ That, of course, was now not the only issue: an attack on France such as Bethmann had hinted at would bring the Belgian question into play. ‘The Chancellor also in effect asks us to bargain away whatever obligation or interest we have as regards the neutrality of Belgium. We could not entertain that bargain either.’ Britain had to retain ‘full freedom to act as circumstances may seem to us to require’; and, having consulted Asquith, he asked Goschen to relay to Berlin that the best way to maintain good relations between their two countries was to work together for European peace.
That telegram crossed with one from Goschen saying that the Germans had had no reply from Vienna; and Goschen reported that Jagow had ‘begged’ him ‘to impress on you difficulty of position to Germany in view of Russian mobilisation and military measures which he hears are being taken in France’.165 De Bunsen wired from Vienna a little later to say it was understood there that the Germans had spoken strongly to Austria about the dangers of their conduct sparking a European war; the problem was, de Bunsen added, that the German ambassador to Vienna was so deeply identified with anti-Serbian and anti-Russian sentiment that he could not be relied upon to do all he might to talk Austria out of its belligerence.
Bethmann promised to respect the neutrality of Holland: but was less categorical about Belgium. ‘His excellency could not tell to what operations Germany might be forced by the action of France, but he could state that, provided that Belgium did not take sides against Germany, her integrity would be respected after the conclusion of the war.’166 The implications of these remarks outraged London. Grey read the telegram with ‘despair’, because it seemed Bethmann was now resigned to war; and he should have seen he was offering Britain a dishonourable way out.167 Goschen reported from Berlin that Bethmann had been visibly stunned by Grey’s response to his suggestion of neutrality, and had asked for time to reflect upon it. Crowe noted that ‘the only comment that need be made on these astounding proposals is that they reflect discredit on the statesman who makes them.’ He realised that ‘Germany practically admits the intention to violate Belgian neutrality but to endeavour to respect that of Holland (in order to safeguard German imports via the Rhine and Rotterdam). It is clear that Germany is practically determined to go to war, and that the one restraining influence so far has been the fear of England joining in the defence of France and Belgium.’168
The endgame, as Crowe realised, was now under way. In its editorial of 30 July, The Times said the government’s efforts to limit the conflict represented ‘a task which it may exceed all the wisdom of diplomacy to accomplish,’ and warned again that, if necessary, Britain would fight and win – notably if Belgian neutrality were threatened.169 This was not a view any minister was then keen to express in private, let alone in public, and it was the first time the prospect had been put before the public. The Times was exceptionally well briefed. The crisis was now greater than any in Britain since the Napoleonic Wars.
The Consul General in Hamburg reported that morning that along Germany’s North Sea coast, forts were being manned and submarine defences installed, a sign Crowe and Nicolson interpreted as an expectation of Germany’s having to fight Britain. Grey told Goschen: ‘You must inform German Chancellor that his proposal that we should bind ourselves to neutrality on such terms cannot for a moment be entertained.’170 Grey learned from Cambon that the German ambassador in Paris had told his Russian counterpart that if Russia did not stop making military preparations, Germany would mobilise. De Bunsen told Grey the same morning that Vienna had only just ‘tardily realised’ Russia was serious.171
Later, Goschen reported that the British military attaché in Berlin had been alerted to substantial German troop movements to the country’s eastern and western borders and believed mobilisation was ‘imminent’.172 Consular staff from Hamburg and Dresden made similar reports, which Crowe regarded as ‘ominous’.173 Earlier, Grey had made a brief appearance in the Commons, to answer a question from Law. ‘There is very little I can say,’ he told the Leader of the Opposition, and repeated what most MPs had read in the papers, about the Austrians moving against Serbia, and Russia ordering a partial mobilisation. He assured Law the diplomatic community was keeping in touch, ‘though it has not been possible for the powers to unite in joint diplomatic action as was proposed on Monday.’174
Law and Sir Edward Carson, leader of the
Irish Unionists, invited Asquith to see them. They told him that to maximise British influence for peace they and their followers would put into abeyance their differences with the government over the Bill that would amend the Home Rule Act. John Redmond, the Nationalist leader, whom Asquith saw afterwards, agreed that, provided the Act went on the statute book at once, he would agree to its not being operative until the Amending Bill became law. This was a relief to the prime minister, but was the only sign of light. He recorded in his diary: ‘The City, which is in a terrible state of depression and paralysis, is for the time being all against English intervention. The prospect is very black.’175
Bertie wired Grey during the evening. Poincaré had told him the Germans had threatened to mobilise unless Russia stopped. He asked Bertie whether Britain would now promise to help France if conflict arose between her and Germany, for he felt such an announcement would cause Germany to ‘modify her attitude’.176 Bertie said that for the moment such an announcement would be ‘difficult’: Poincaré insisted that it would be in the interests of peace, and emphasised that France did not desire war. But he also felt that if war came Britain would be sucked in, and therefore should avert war by promising to fight with France now.
On 29 July the cabinet – recalling Gladstone’s policy in 1870 – discussed the neutrality of Belgium for the first time, so the stakes were no longer in doubt: but, being still at that point theoretical, it was not deemed so important an issue as how to interpret the entente with France, which the French themselves were now adducing as a reason for Britain to support any military action they might feel minded to take in concert with the Russians. Crowe believed a British promise of solidarity would only encourage France and Russia to fight the Teutons. However, he also believed that if French and Russian participation occurred without any British encouragement, then Britain should stand by them as allies, and the decision to intervene should be immediate and unequivocal. Cambon was pressing Grey, reminding him that two years earlier they had agreed ‘that, if the peace of Europe was seriously threatened, we would discuss what we were prepared to do.’177 He was not seeking a commitment, but wished to discuss with Grey what Britain would do in certain eventualities, such as an attack on France by Germany. Grey said the cabinet was meeting the following morning, and would discuss this. Cambon stressed that France could not remain neutral in a war between Germany and Russia. Grey realised France needed to know how Britain proposed to act in those circumstances: but, with the cabinet divided and Britain under no obligation similar to France’s understanding with Russia under the terms of the Triple Entente, he could do nothing.