Meanwhile Bethmann was arguing for postponement while Moltke, who had tended toward postponement half of the time that week, reversed himself. Now Moltke suddenly was in favor of going ahead. "His changes of mood are hardly explicable or not at all," noted a disgusted Falkenhayn.
By the evening, the Kaiser had learned of Grey's warning to the German ambassador in London the evening before. Grey, speaking only for himself, gave his opinion that if France were endangered, Britain would intervene. Since it was widely known in government circles that Germany, in the event of war against Russia, planned to attack and crush France first before turning around and invading Russia, Grey was saying that England would support its fellow Entente powers, Russia and France, against the Triple Alliance powers, Germany and Austria. Once again the Kaiser exploded in rage. "Irresponsibility and weakness are to plunge the world into the most terrible war, aimed in the last resort at ruining Germany," he claimed. "For no doubt remains in my mind: England, Russia and France . . . are in league to wage a war of annihilation against us, taking the Austro-Serbian conflict as a pretext . . . the stupidity and clumsiness of our ally has been turned into a noose for our necks. . . . And we have fallen into the snare."
London. The keenly awaited debate on Ireland, scheduled to be held in the House of Commons in the afternoon, was expected to lead to a civil war in Britain. But earlier in the day the Opposition's leaders met with Asquith and reached agreement to show a united front in view of European dangers. This was a turnabout too fast for the rank and file to grasp. Violet Asquith, the Prime Minister's daughter, along with her stepmother, Margot, attended the Ladies' Gallery of the House, and found it "packed with expectant and excited women" who gave "a gasp of astonishment" when the Prime Minister rose to speak of postponing the Irish debate. "These words produced bewilderment in the Ladies' Gallery," noted Violet. "Many of its occupants had been busily engaged in preparations for the impending civil war—attending Red Cross classes, rolling bandages and making splints and slings, etc. One Ulster matron Lady M. (whose figure was particularly well adapted for the purpose) was reputed to have smuggled rifles galore into Belfast under her petticoats." They were aghast at the news of postponement and uncomprehending.
Paris. Back from their long voyage, and not yet caught up on all the news of what had happened during their absence, France's leaders attempted to apply the brakes to fast-moving events. With President Poincaré's approval, Prime Minister Viviani cabled to the Russian government cautionary advice: "in the precautionary measures and defensive measures to which Russia believes herself obliged to resort, she should not immediately proceed to any measure which might offer Germany a pretext for a total or partial mobilization of her forces." France itself pulled back its armed forces six miles from the Franco-German frontier.
London. "The European situation is at least one degree worse than it was yesterday," noted the Prime Minister, "and has not been improved by a rather shameless attempt on the part of Germany to buy our neutrality during the war by promises that she will not annex French territory (except colonies) or Holland & Belgium. There is something very crude & almost childlike about German diplomacy. Meanwhile the French are beginning to press in the opposite sense, as the Russians have been doing for some time. The City, wh. is in a terrible state of depression and paralysis, is for the time being all against English intervention. I think the prospect very black today."
CHAPTER 38: JULY 31
Jules Cambon, France's veteran ambassador in Berlin, cabled his government that Germany was about to start a war without waiting for Russia to mobilize first.
News of the Russian general mobilization reached Vienna but failed of its effect; it did not deter the Hapsburg Empire from proceeding, however slowly, with its intended invasion of Serbia. The combined cabinets of the Dual Monarchy—its Common Ministerial Council—met, considered the news, and determined to go ahead as planned despite the likelihood that in doing so it would provoke Russia to intervene.
In apparent disregard of the Russian threat, Hapsburg armies continued to march south toward Serbia. Conrad had planned, if the Czar ordered mobilization, to shift troops to the Russian front; unaccountably, he did not do so. This placed the whole burden of defending Austria against Russia on Germany's shoulders, which may have been the point. Samuel Williamson suggests Conrad aimed at attacking Serbia as soon as possible to make sure that fighting started before diplomats could intervene.
At noon the news reached Berlin that Russia was mobilizing against Germany as well as against Austria. The Kaiser had just finished cabling the Czar that "the peace of Europe may still be maintained by you, if Russia will agree to stop the military measures which must threaten Germany and Austro-Hungary." He offered to continue his mediation efforts.
The Czar replied: "I thank you heartily for your mediation which begins to give one hope that all may yet end peacefully. It is technically impossible to stop our military preparations which were obligatory owing to Austria's mobilization. We are far from wishing for war. As long as the negotiations with Austria on Serbia's account are taking place my troops shall not make any provocative action. I give you my solemn word for this."
Meanwhile, Franz Joseph cabled the Kaiser his thanks for his mediation offer but said it came too late: Russia had already mobilized and Austrian troops already were marching on Serbia.
Paris. That evening the German ambassador to France presented an ultimatum to René Viviani in his capacity as foreign minister. France's ally Russia must rescind its proclaimed mobilization, warned the German, or accept the responsibility of bringing on a conflict. Viviani, along with President Poincaré, had been at sea, and knew nothing of the Russian mobilizations. He called St. Petersburg for information.
St. Petersburg. Near midnight, the German ambassador to Russia delivered an ultimatum: stop the mobilization within twelve hours, or Germany would mobilize too—and, unlike Russia's, Germany's mobilization would bring the countries "extraordinarily near to war."
London. "There is still hope," Winston Churchill wrote to his wife, "although the clouds are blacker and blacker. Germany is realizing I think how great are the forces against her and is trying tardily to restrain her idiot ally. We are working to soothe Russia."
Asquith had lunch at Churchill's, along with Lord Kitchener, Britain's most famous general, who was spending a few weeks in England before returning to Egypt, where he served as proconsul. Kitchener told the civilians that Britain had to back up France. But that was not the general view. Asquith confided that "general opinion at present—particularly strong in the City—is to keep out at almost all costs."
Lloyd George, leader of the radical wing of the governing party, was perhaps the only member of the cabinet with a following strong enough to challenge the Prime Minister, and he told a political intimate that "I am fighting hard for peace. All the bankers and commercial people are begging us not to intervene. The governor of the Bank of England said to me with tears in his eyes 'Keep us out of it. We shall all be ruined if we are dragged in.' "
Winston Churchill was made aware by at least one well-placed Liberal member of Parliament, Arthur Ponsonby, that there was "very strong" and "very widespread" sentiment within the party against intervention. At the same time, however, he received from F E. Smith of the Conservatives, an indication that the Opposition party would support the government if it took up arms against a German invasion of France through Belgium. In his reply, Churchill told Smith: "I cannot think war will be averted now. Germany must march through Belgium, and I believe that the bulk of both parties will stand firm against that."
Paris. France's army commander, General Joseph Joffre, asked permission from the government to order general mobilization. The cabinet refused its permission.
CHAPTER 39: AUGUST 1
Paris. Joffre once again asked his government for permission to order an immediate general mobilization. Instead, the cabinet authorized him to do so the following day.
London. At the morn
ing cabinet meeting, Winston Churchill asked if he could order full mobilization of the fleet. But the cabinet, deeply divided, refused its permission. Of those whose instincts were against war, Lloyd George was the key figure; if he were won over, he could bring others with him.
According to the Prime Minister, "the bulk of the party" were opposed to intervening militarily in any circumstances, but that "Ll. George—all for peace—is more sensible & statesmanlike for keeping the position still open." Churchill had been a follower of Lloyd George for years, and during the meeting they passed notes to one another. In one of them, the radical leader held out hope: "If patience prevails & you do not press us too hard . . . we might come together." "Please God," replied Churchill. "It is our whole future—comrades—or opponents."
"I am most profoundly anxious that our long cooperation may not be severed," Churchill wrote at another point. ". . . I implore you to come and bring your mighty aid to the discharge of our duty." And again: "All the rest of our lives we shall be opposed. I am deeply attached to you & have followed your instinct and guidance for nearly 10 years."
Meanwhile Churchill directed a torrent of rhetoric at the rest of the cabinet. He was notorious for not letting anyone else get a word in edgewise. "It is no exaggeration to say," Asquith told a confidante, "that Winston occupied at least half of the time" of the meeting.
Berlin. The Chancellor addressed the Bundesrat, the assembly of the German states, and presented his government's case. He explained that Russia, rather than continue negotiations with Austria, had mobilized its military forces. In reply, Germany had delivered an ultimatum to the Russian government: either agree by noon to demobilize or else Germany would mobilize. Germany also had sent an ultimatum to France to remain neutral—and to give adequate assurances of remaining so—or else Germany would declare war on it, too. This ultimatum to France was scheduled to expire at I p.m. The Bundesrat gave Bethmann its unanimous support.
Noon came and went, and there was no Russian reply. Nearly an hour later Germany cabled its declaration of war to its ambassador to Russia, for delivery in St. Petersburg, worded in the alternative, so that he could claim either that the Czar's government had rejected the ultimatum or had failed to reply to it.
Tsarskoe Selo. It was midday in Russia, and Czar Nicholas received news of Germany's mobilization. Quickly he cabled his cousin Wilhelm: "I understand that you are compelled to mobilize but I should like to have the same guarantee from you that I gave you myself— that these measures do not mean war."
But, of course, the Czar was wrong. In the world of 1914, not even generals and cabinet ministers understood the difference between the various types of military precautionary messages that had been adopted by the various countries. One, however, in its unmistakable clarity stood out from the others: for Germany, mobilization meant war—within twenty-four hours if not before.
Berlin. By four in the afternoon there still was no reply from Russia. Falkenhayn and Bethmann drove to see the Kaiser. They had decided the night before that war had to be declared even if Russia proposed to negotiate. But they found the Kaiser reluctant to do so. There was a time when that would have proved a fatal obstacle to their plans, but no longer was that true. During the last week in July, Wilhelm's instructions had been disregarded by his own Chancellor and foreign minister, his military leaders, and the Austrian Emperor and his government. Wilhelm's orders still counted for something, but not for everything.
The Kaiser agreed to sign the mobilization orders, which took effect the following day. Moltke had drafted for Wilhelm a speech to the German people. Bethmann, who arrived late, was angry at Moltke for having usurped the prerogative of the civilian authorities. Moltke, visibly nervous, told an aide: "This war will turn into a world war in which England will also intervene. Few can have any idea of the extent, the duration, and the end of this war. Nobody today can have a notion of how it will end."
As the Kaiser and his military chiefs finished their discussions and prepared to disband, word arrived from the foreign office that an important message from Great Britain was in the process of being decoded. Admiral Tirpitz suggested to the two army chiefs that they wait to read it. Instead, they hurried off with their signed mobilization order. They might as well have stayed, for they were soon ordered to return.
The message from London disrupted the German government's plans. The cable came from Berlin's ambassador there, Prince Lichnowsky, who repeated assurances which he mistakenly believed that Sir Edward Grey had given to him. England seemed to be saying that if Germany left France alone, England and France would remain neutral in Germany's war against Russia.
The Kaiser and his aides were jubilant. This practically ensured victory, as they saw it. Moltke, as chief of staff the officer in charge of operations, found himself in a minority of one. As he recalled it soon afterwards, "The Kaiser said to me: 'Then we simply deploy in the east with the whole army' "
It drove Moltke to despair. The Kaiser seemed incapable of understanding the current war plan, which was to hurl the bulk of Germany's forces, via Luxemburg and Belgium, against France, while holding off Russia with a smaller force in the east. A quick victory over France would be followed by a rapid transfer of Germany's armies from the French front to the Russian one. Not since April 1913 had the general staff maintained a current plan of deployment for a war solely against Russia.
The army was already in the process of moving to attack France. Rescinding the orders, Moltke argued, would create chaos. After a violent argument between the Kaiser and the chief of staff, a compromise was reached: mobilization would proceed, and the troops would move in France's direction, but then be available to be redeployed en masse to the east if an agreement were made for Britain and France to remain neutral.
That left a major problem unresolved. In the German war plan, the initial move by the Kaiser's armies would be to seize the railroads of neutral Luxemburg before France could do so, and then deliver an ultimatum to neutral Belgium to stand aside and let the German armies pass through in order to invade France. Germany was a guarantor of Belgium's neutrality and of Luxemburg's.
Now that France was going to stay out of the war, this had to be changed. According to Moltke, "the Kaiser, without asking me, turned to the aide-de-camp on duty and commanded him to telegraph immediate instructions . . . not to march into Luxemburg. I thought my heart would break." With England and France refusing to be drawn into war, "The final straw," Moltke exploded, "would be if Russia now also fell away." Germany would be deprived of enemies!
Meanwhile, the Kaiser and his Chancellor sent messages to London to seal the bargain: Wilhelm to King George V, and Bethmann to the British government. But, as King George wrote in his cabled reply, "I think there must be some misunderstanding." No such offer of British and French neutrality had ever been made.
After reading King George's telegram, the Kaiser told Moltke: "Now you can do as you will." Moltke promptly cabled to his forces to proceed with the invasion of Luxemburg.
At 7:00 p.m., German troops seized their first objective: a railroad station and telegraph office inside Luxemburg. At 7:30 p.m. other German troops came to recall them, telling the first contingent that they had been dispatched in error; the cable from King George was awaited. Then, in response to the later telegram from Moltke, orders again were countermanded and once again the German invasion of Luxemburg went forward.
London. Authorized to do so by the cabinet, Grey, albeit in diplomatic language, warned the German ambassador that a violation of Belgian neutrality might very well bring Britain to intervene.
St. Petersburg. The German ambassador delivered his country's declaration of war to the Russian foreign minister. In his confusion he served a document that incorporated both versions with which Berlin had supplied him: the claim that Russia had not replied, and the claim that the Russian reply was unsatisfactory.
London. Churchill, through his Tory friend F. E. Smith, had invited Bonar Law, the Tory leader, to din
e with him and with Sir Edward Grey at the Admiralty. Smith had asked Sir Max Aitken, Law's closest friend, to join the party. But Law declined, and Grey at some point instead went off to join the Prime Minister. In the event, Churchill dined at the Admiralty alone.
After dinner, at about nine-thirty, Smith and Aitken came by, and found Churchill with two friends. They fell into a discussion of the crisis. News arrived that the Germans were postponing their ultimatum to Russia and opinions differed as to the significance of the news. Three of the men played a rubber of bridge with Churchill. Aitken sat out.
The cards had just been dealt and play begun when a red official dispatch box was brought in to Churchill. He took out a key and unlocked it. In it was a single sheet of paper "singularly disproportionate to the size of the box," as Aitken was later to write, on which was written: "War declared by Germany on Russia."
Churchill turned over his bridge hand to Aitken and walked over to 10 Downing Street. He found the Prime Minister closeted with Grey and other advisers.
Churchill told Asquith that he was going to order full general mobilization of the fleet. He knew, of course, that the cabinet had refused him permission to do so that morning. He personally would answer to the cabinet the following morning for what he was about to do.
The Prime Minister said nothing. Churchill returned to his offices, and spent the rest of the night making sure that, whatever might happen, the Royal Navy would be ready.
Later that night London received word from its embassy in Berlin that the Kaiser claimed his efforts to keep the peace were being undermined by Russia's full mobilization. Was there anything George V could do to help?
Asquith quickly drafted a note to the Czar in King George's name, called a taxi, and raced to Buckingham Palace at one-thirty in the morning to obtain his monarch's signature. "The king was hauled out of his bed," the Prime Minister noted in his diary, "and one of my strangest experiences was sitting with him clad in a dressing-gown while I read the message and the proposed answer."
Europe's Last Summer Page 23