Hidden History: The Secret Origins of the First World War.

by Gerry Docherty

  Befriending France was relatively straightforward. Though Napoleon III had admitted France was responsible for starting the Franco-Prussian war of 1870, many in France held a deep and bitter resentment towards Germany. The humiliation of the French forces in that war and the German army’s siege of Paris still hurt badly 30 years on. In stark contrast, Bismarck’s unification of Germany was hailed in Britain at the time as a desirable, even glorious, accomplishment. It was, however, accompanied by the thorny issue of the annexation of Alsace-Lorraine from France, which the French had always regarded as a crime: ‘the brutal dismemberment of a nation’.29 How the people of Alsace-Lorraine viewed it depended on their own historic background. By the turn of the century, most of them spoke German as their first language. In Bismarck’s defence, it has been said that he had only been ‘liberating’ territory that had earlier been wrested from Germany by Louis X1V when Germany was weak and divided against herself.30 Whatever the rights or wrongs of Germany’s annexation of the provinces, a small, staunchly republican military cadre in France wanted revenge. These Revanchards31 were determined never to rest until the ‘Lost Provinces’ were restored. It was this sense of loss, this strong nationalistic sentiment, which the Secret Elite in London encouraged and used to harness France for their ultimate war with Germany. For the Revanchards, an ‘understanding’ with Britain, a formal accord, was most welcome. They too needed allies.

  Political relationships between France and Britain had been low-key in the aftermath of French criticism of the Boer War, but King Edward played a major role in smoothing things over and preparing the ground for an alliance. His accession to the throne had fundamentally changed the rules of engagement. Here was a man who loved all things French.32 As prince regent, Edward had been one of the world’s most well-travelled men, but his favoured destination was always France. During the Franco-Prussian War, his sympathies rested with the French cause, and in the months immediately after it he toured the battlefields round Sedan and Metz. The fascination that France held for him from boyhood had fully developed into that of the rampant Francophile, and he became extremely popular in Paris.

  On private visits, and he was a frequent visitor, the Prince of Wales was welcomed in theatrical and artistic society. It was suggested that by ‘freeing himself of all official etiquette’ he was able to explore Parisian life so thoroughly ‘that he became as familiar to the public of Paris as to that of London’.33 Queen Victoria was not amused. She wrote of her ‘very weak and terribly frivolous’ eldest son to his sister Victoria in Germany:

  Oh! What will become of the poor country when I die! I foresee, if B[ertie] succeeds, nothing but misery – for he never reflects or listens for a moment and he [would] … spend his life in one whirl of amusements as he does now. It makes me very sad and angry.’34

  Victoria always referred to her wilful son as ‘Bertie’, as he had been christened Albert Edward. In an effort to curtail his wayward lifestyle, the queen kept Bertie on the minimal royal stipend, but the Rothschilds and other members of his fawning entourage, like Sir Edward Cassel, quietly funded his dubious habits. He certainly became familiar with some very interesting characters, but behind the image of the ‘playboy prince’ that so worried his mother, Edward engaged with political and social circles that the Secret Elite sought to influence.

  Edward frequented France as some might frequent a brothel: incognito, for personal pleasure and satisfaction. In point of fact, he visited the most luxurious brothel in Paris, Le Chabanais, so often that his personal coat of arms hung above the bed in one of the exclusive rooms. Heavily overweight, Bertie had a special ‘love seat’ built so that he could enjoy sex with several of the ‘girls’ at once.35 He loved Paris; the Belle Époque naughtiness thrilled him. He was involved with many of the famous prostitutes of the period, and cartoons of the day struck a mighty likeness between him and a Toulouse Lautrec poster.36

  France was always close to his heart, but not as close as his Empire. Not as close as the mighty aims of the Secret Elite. He was shielded from public awareness of his political machinations by the very playboy image he so readily embodied. It was hardly surprising that when the Secret Elite’s charm offensive with France was at its height, King Edward was the spokesman. His appeal was personal and to the point. He, not the foreign secretary, Lord Lansdowne, brought the French on board. While Lansdowne dealt with the formal process of diplomatic exchange, Edward pressed the flesh. He was the Secret Elite’s principal ambassador, bringing to fruition plans devised in the great country houses and clubs of England.

  Edward the prince embraced the Secret Elite for their greater purpose. His meagre purse could never have addressed his gambling and whoring debts, his extravagant travels, parties and balls, or his horses and mistresses. He was accustomed to a lifestyle financed by other interested parties who were either inside or close to the Secret Elite.

  Edward the king took his role at the centre of the Secret Elite very seriously, and he was the instrument through whom honours were used to bind friendships with the royalty of Spain, Portugal, Russia, Italy, Sweden, Persia and Japan, not excluding his relatives in Germany. In 1902 alone, Edward invested King Alfonso of Spain, Grand-Duke Michael of Russia, Prince Emmanuel Filiberto, a cousin of King Victor Emmanuel III of Italy, the Crown Prince of Portugal, and the ill-fated Archduke Franz Ferdinand as Garter Knights. Those who believe that Edward was not involved in diplomatic intrigue and dismiss his travelling court as a circus showpiece entirely miss the point. Or perhaps they choose to miss the point. King Edward’s visits to foreign parts were designed to cement relationships, present British foreign policy as an act of benign friendship and unpick the alliances and commitments to Germany.

  The Germans were clearly concerned about Edward’s activities, but had no inkling of a secret society spinning a web of intrigue across Europe. One by one the nations courted by King Edward VII were brought into a shared sphere of interest. What made his input so effective was the public manner in which he assiduously courted friendships. Contemporaries assumed that Edward’s royal visits couldn’t have any political importance because as often as not he travelled without a member of the Cabinet or the diplomatic corps. But consider his input to the new era of British ‘openness’ and the very necessary end of isolationism. He paid particular interest to the young King Alfonso of Spain, who in 1902 at the age of 16 reached his majority and assumed his right to rule. On the eve of his birthday, Alfonso was invested with the Order of the Garter. King Edward’s relationship with the young monarch was positively avuncular to the extent that he acted as matchmaker by introducing Alfonso to his niece, Princess Victoria Eugenie. Lest the reader think that this is an example of Edward’s consideration, think how valuable an alliance of royal families was with a country that had both Atlantic and Mediterranean coastlines. Within a few turbulent years, Britain was able to use that relationship to challenge Germany over control of Morocco.

  Edward VII’s links with Italian royalty were similarly important. How better to undermine Germany’s alliance with Italy than frequent personal visits and the plying of gifts of honours and status on significant personages? A royal visit to Rome and Naples was arranged in 1903 during which King Edward the conspirator had discussions both with King Victor Emmanuel and the ageing Pope Leo XIII. His impromptu speeches proved to be disarmingly popular.37 Edward took the opportunity to shower high honours on members of the Italian royal family, with knighthoods aplenty for the diplomatic corps and admirals and captains in the Italian navy.38 In 1903 alone, Edward visited Rome, Lisbon, Paris and Vienna. German journalists at the time, and German historians afterwards, connected these to the ‘Einkreisungspolitik’ or ‘encirclement’ policy. The Germans saw Edward as a Machiavelli among kings, but English historians Grant and Temperley later dismissed his visits as ‘ceremonial’.39 How can they reconcile his obvious interference in international politics with the claim that his visits were merely for social or ceremonial reasons? Incredibly, some histo
rians even go so far as to omit King Edward entirely from the history of the origins of the First World War.

  It was in France, though, that he first made his mark in 1903, displaying his gift of tact and a capacity to reach out over political reserve and speak to a wider audience. Edward’s public statements were aimed to appeal to the French sense of self-worth, to herald a new beginning in international cooperation. He announced to the French media:

  The days of hostility between the two countries are, I am certain, happily at an end. I know of no two countries whose prosperity is more interdependent. There may have been misunderstandings and causes of dissension in the past, but that is all happily over and forgotten. The friendship of the two countries is my constant preoccupation.40

  The king was then treated to a banquet at the Elysée Palace followed by horseracing at Longchamps. This pot-bellied, top-hatted, cigar-smoking, brandy-bloated, flamboyant lover of life, of friends, of their wives, was far more important in diplomatic and government circles than was ever acknowledged. So what if women of easy virtue were a constant distraction? Edward coped.

  In the summer of 1903, two months after the king’s trip to Paris, the president of France, Emile Loubet, paid him a return visit accompanied by the Revanchist Théophile Delcassé, whom Edward had met and befriended on an earlier trip. An immensely important warmonger, Delcassé set to work with Foreign Secretary Lansdowne on the terms of a joint agreement between the two countries. Old ‘difficulties’ were put aside, concessions agreed and a mutually acceptable solution found to Britain’s control of Egypt and France’s influence in Morocco. Eight months later, on 8 April 1904, the Entente Cordiale was signed. It marked the end of an era of conflict between England and France that had lasted nearly a thousand years. Isolation from the continent of Europe was formally abandoned. On the surface, the entente brought the two countries closer without any commitment to a formal military alliance. The talk was of peace and prosperity, but secret clauses signed that same day were to have very different consequences.

  Some saw this as Edward’s great autocratic design, as though he, and only he, wanted to formalise friendship with France, as if it was the king’s personal gift to both nations. In his well-vetted memoirs, Sir Edward Grey, a long-serving agent of the Secret Elite, reflected on this moment with lyrical approval: ‘The real cause for satisfaction was that the exasperating friction with France was to end, and that the menace of war with France had disappeared. The gloomy clouds were gone, the sky was clear, and the sun shone warmly.’41 Put aside Grey’s two-faced and self-serving image. The Entente Cordiale was indeed a diplomatic triumph, and there is absolutely no doubt that King Edward was the man responsible for delivering it on behalf of the Secret Elite, but the sunshine was to be short-lived. The real purpose behind the entente was war with Germany. Why else were the secret clauses signed on 8 April 1904 hidden from Parliament, from public knowledge and from other governments?

  The Belgian ambassador to Berlin, Baron Greindl, was driven to the logical conclusion that ‘British foreign policy is directed by the king in person’.42 His conclusion was perfectly reasonable given the evidence he had before him, but Baron Greindl and many like him knew nothing of the powers behind the throne with whom the king was a partner in conspiracy. The Belgian chargé d’affaires in London, Monsieur E. Cartier, commented that ‘the English are getting more and more into the habit of regarding international problems as being almost exclusively within the province of King Edward’.43 What Monsieur Cartier failed to appreciate was that the king was not an agent of the elected government. He was not answerable to Prime Minister Balfour or Foreign Secretary Lansdowne, but they had no concerns over the king’s influence in foreign affairs. They too belonged, as did His Majesty, to an inner circle of the utmost secrecy from which all effective foreign policy stemmed: the Secret Elite.

  King Edward’s association with the inner circle of the Secret Elite, and his role in their plan for the destruction of Germany, was strengthened by his first lieutenant, Reginald Balliol Brett, Lord Esher. He had been closely involved with Cecil Rhodes and Lord Rothschild in setting up the secret society in 1891 and was a member of the Society of the Elect with Lord Milner. Esher played a remarkable role for an unelected subject, an apparently independent mind, responsible to no politician. He turned down many top posts in government at home and in the Empire because he wanted to ‘work behind the scenes rather than in public view’. His secret work was ‘so important and influential that any public post would have meant a reduction in his power’.44 He thus played a more important role than any Cabinet minister, viceroy of India or governor general of Canada. Esher’s presence was welcomed in every aristocratic mansion, noble household and stately home in Britain. His influence was a guarantor of royal approval. He vetted newspaper editors, sat on official bodies, committees and investigations, and was rarely subject to public criticism, though his sexual preferences left him vulnerable to scandalous exposure.45 Lord Esher’s presence at the innermost court of the secret society, at the War Office, the Foreign Office or the Colonial Office, at meetings so secret that Cabinet ministers were excluded, was as unquestioned as his presence in any of the royal households.

  When the South African War Commission was set up in 1902 to analyse the army’s near disastrous performance in the Boer War, Esher was appointed as one of only three commissioners. Why? He was not a soldier, had no relevant military background, and his experience as permanent secretary to His Majesty’s Office of Works hardly qualified him to do more than oversee Windsor Castle.

  The king could not sit on a commission that the Secret Elite intended to use as a starting point for the complete reorganisation of the armed forces, but his right-hand man could. Esher wrote daily to King Edward with details of the evidence from every expert witness to the commission. He told the king that the defence of the realm was in such a perilous condition ‘that it made it almost a crime to embark on any course of policy which might have involved the nation in a war’.46 By any standards this was a shocking admission and one which touched on the Secret Elite’s innermost fears. It was clear that reorganisation and modernisation of the British armed forces was essential. It was a momentous task that required careful preparation and political commitment. So much had to be achieved before they could tackle Germany.

  Lord Esher’s contribution proved invaluable. As a member of the War Commission, Esher interviewed all of the major politicians in both Conservative and Liberal ranks, and, as part of his role, assessed their views and commitment. These he discussed in private meetings with the king and his Secret Elite colleagues, so that when a change of government took place they could influence key appointments and ensure that their chosen men took charge.

  The reshaping of the armed forces, for example, had to be led by a trusted man. It fell to Esher to ensure that the chosen incumbent in the War Office was such a trusted agent. He proceeded to influence the future development and organisation of Britain’s military policy and appointments for the remaining years of King Edward’s reign. His position was entirely unconstitutional, but his role continued unchallenged, protected by his membership of the Secret Elite and by the king’s patronage.

  One of the most important features of the Secret Elite plan for war was to keep an iron grip on foreign policy. The long-term drive to war had to be imprinted on the departmental mindset at the War Office, the Admiralty and, in particular, the Foreign Office. Governments might rise and fall, but the ultimate objective had to be sustained, no matter the politics of the day. To that end, a permanent Committee of Imperial Defence (CID) was established by Arthur Balfour. This secretive and very exclusive group first met in 1902 as an advisory committee to the prime minister on matters of national defence but was re-formed permanently in 1904. In addition to Balfour, the only original permanent member of this exclusive committee was Lord Roberts, commander-in-chief of the armed forces and longstanding friend of Alfred Milner. Esher recognised the strategic importance of th
e CID and the absolute necessity that its work remained hidden and at all times under the control of the Secret Elite. Afraid that a change of government would result in a radical element within the Liberal Party gaining control of the CID, Esher pressed the prime minister to appoint trusted agents like Milner, Field Marshal Lord Roberts, and Roberts’ up-and-coming protégé, Sir John French, as well as himself, as permanent members. Balfour partly acceded.47 He sanctioned the appointment of both Esher and Sir John French to limitless tenure in the CID, and at a stroke the Cabinet was literally eclipsed from discussion on questions of defence. Esher’s appointment was again of the utmost significance. He ensured that King Edward VII and his successor, George V, received regular secret reports on all CID business. More importantly, he ensured that Secret Elite designs were followed. All hidden from view and, in terms of cabinet government, strictly unconstitutional.