Every sacred moment was put to good use by the Russian military command. Over that same weekend, Russian frontier districts adjoining Austria and Germany were put on a war footing as rapidly as possible. Because the minister of war had the authority to call out the reservists and militia for service in those districts, this was carried out without the sanction of the czar. And so, on 26 July, Russia’s secret mobilisation measures began in earnest. That very day, Sazonov assured the German ambassador, Count Pourtales, that no mobilisation orders of any kind had been issued. He denied it to his face. The consequence of this deception would be clear later when Germany was taken by surprise by the rapidity with which the Russian troops poured into East Prussia.12 The French maintained their constant pressure on St Petersburg. Prime Minister Vivani repeated over and over again that France was fully resolved to fulfil all her obligations to the alliance. Innocent though that might sound, the meaning was clear. ‘We will stand together in war’: unspoken but understood. He also reiterated the same urgent advice that Buchanan had passed on from London: the Russians had to proceed as secretly as possible in their military preparations to avoid giving the Germans any excuse to reciprocate. Isvolsky sent an almost identical message.13 These men who posed as ambassadors of peace on the European stage were united in their shameless deceit. They sought war and, in its pursuit, to gain every advantage over Germany.
Diplomatic proposals and counter-proposals criss-crossed Europe over the next five days as a variety of options for mediation, negotiation or direct interventions emanated from London, Berlin, Vienna and St Petersburg. Some were genuine; some were intended to deceive. Grey’s suggestions were consistent in that they always supported the Russian position and never at any time sought to question or constrain Sazonov. More ominously, the Foreign Office began to insist that German preparations for war were much more advanced than those of France or Russia.14 No evidence from the British archives has ever been presented to justify this allegation.15 Britain had thousands of representatives, businessmen, bankers, tradesmen and tourists in Germany during those crucial weeks. Military and naval attachés, consuls in all the larger cities and, of course, senior diplomats in Berlin all served to represent the interests of the British Crown. No one filed an official report warning of German preparations for war. The major newspapers had foreign correspondents in Germany. They observed nothing untoward. Not just that. No other diplomatic mission shared Grey’s unwarranted view.16 The anti-German cabal of Grey, Nicolson and Crowe created yet another myth.
The German government’s views were published in the North German Gazette on Monday, 27th. They voiced support for the Austrian action and strongly advocated a localised solution. Disturbing intelligence was steadily filtering into the German Foreign Office that Russian military activity had been seen in locations close to the border. Twenty-eight different reports became a cause for concern. The Danish foreign minister even went so far as to state categorically that the Russians were preparing to mobilise in military districts facing the Austrian and German frontiers.17 Prince Lichnowsky asked Sir Edward Grey directly if he knew what was happening in Russia. Despite what he had already learned from Buchanan, Grey flatly denied that Russia was in the process of calling up reservists.18
When Kaiser Wilhelm and his advisors returned to Berlin from their summer holidays on Monday, 27 July, there was a relatively calm atmosphere. General Helmuth von Moltke, chief of the German general staff, took the precaution of sending instructions to the German Foreign Office that would only be activated if peace negotiations failed. It was a draft of the ultimatum to be sent to Belgium in the event of war. Clearly he had to cover all eventualities, but neither he nor the kaiser was planning to start a war.19 Moltke wrote reassuringly to his wife in the expectation that it would be a fortnight before anything definite was known.20 Such optimism, though a considerable misjudgement, was based on the German belief that a European war could be avoided.
As far as Moltke and the kaiser were concerned, the most likely, and certainly the desired outcome, was a localised war between Austria and Serbia. Berlin officials felt vexed that Berchtold in Austria had failed to keep them fully informed and had delayed so long in taking action. The attitude of the Italian government, though not unexpected, remained disturbing. Count Szogyeny, the Hungarian ambassador in Berlin, noted that Italy, ‘in the case of a general conflict, would not fulfil its duty as an ally of the Triple Alliance’.21 He believed that Austrian demands on Serbia would be used as an excuse by Italy to renege on its commitment. Vexation turned to alarm when four further telegrams arrived in Berlin revealing Russian troop movements close to the German borders. The Russians had placed the town of Kovno in a state of war and mined the mouth of the Duna River.22
Despite the fact that her army would not be in a position to invade for at least another fortnight, Austria declared war on Serbia on Tuesday, 28 July.23 In an instant, the diplomatic options changed. The kaiser knew that Berchtold had to have his pound of Serbian flesh, but he was very unhappy at this sudden turn of events. Wilhelm had been impressed with the Serbian Reply. In his judgement, the few reservations Serbia had made on particular points could be settled by negotiation, but he clearly understood the Austrian dilemma. In his eyes, as in theirs, the Serbs were Orientals, hence ‘liars, tricksters and masters of evasion’.24 Having been obliged to mobilise twice in the previous two years against Serbian aggression, Austria demanded both a cast-iron guarantee that Serbia meant what was said and recompense for having to mobilise the army for a third time. He proposed a temporary military occupation of a portion of Serbia – the ‘Kaiser’s Pledge’. This tried and tested solution was similar to that which Germany had employed in France in 1871. Let the Austrians occupy Belgrade until Serbia accepted their demands, but stop at that. There should be no full-scale invasion but a qualified occupation that would satisfy honour all round. The kaiser went further. He took the initiative to put an end to this dangerous period in European history by stating that ‘on this basis, I am ready to mediate for peace’.25
Matters accelerated beyond Wilhelm’s control. Sir Arthur Nicolson received a telegram from Buchanan, stating that ‘Russia had mobilised in the Southern districts’.26 Behind the scenes, the Secret Elite were also mobilising for the final push.
They approached the endplay on the route to war with meticulous care. Lord Nathaniel Rothschild made an unscheduled visit to Prime Minister Asquith to advise him on the preparations that his bank had put in place to prepare for war. He had received a banker’s order from his family branch in Paris to sell a vast quantity of consols for the French government. This would have resulted in a substantial outflow of money from London to Paris, which he refused to approve.27 The stock markets across Europe were extremely nervous. Asquith confided this to Venetia, adding: ‘it looks ominous’.28 All agents of the Secret Elite were linked together through that most powerful advantage, knowledge, and they knew that the mobilisation taking place in Russia meant war. They were fully aware that Germany would eventually be forced into a defensive retaliation through the Schlieffen Plan.29 They knew through their bankers that the money markets were braced for the impact of war. Every shard illuminated aspects of the Secret Elite’s foreknowledge. They knew because they were responsible.
On the evening of 28 July, Chancellor Bethmann sent a telegraph to Vienna putting pressure on Berchtold to negotiate and immediately notified Britain and Russia that he had done so. Germany was cooperating to maintain the peace. Bethmann was doing all he could to persuade Berchtold to hold frank and friendly discussions with St Petersburg. He informed the British ambassador that ‘a war between the Great Powers must be avoided’.30 Bethmann was determined to make Austria reconsider the consequences of events that were unfolding, but by the following morning he had received no response from Berchtold. All that day he waited in vain for an answer. Berchtold’s silence was unnerving. More and more reports were relayed to Berlin confirming Russian mobilisation. Moltke was able to report that
France was also taking preparatory measures for mobilisation: ‘it appears that Russia and France are moving hand in hand as regards their preparations’.31 There was much cause for concern in Berlin. The German military authorities demanded precautionary defensive measures. That evening, Bethmann indignantly fired off another three telegrams to Berchtold, adamant that there was a basis for negotiations.32 His subtext was that Germany’s blank cheque could be cancelled.
The German ambassador in London telegraphed Berlin on the 29th to say that the British believed that a world war was inevitable unless the Austrians negotiated their position over Serbia. Lichnowsky begged Sir Edward Grey to do all he could to prevent a Russian mobilisation on Germany’s borders. The consequences would be ‘beyond conception’.33 Grey promised to use his influence and keep Sazonov as ‘cool-headed as possible’.34 Far from trying to calm Sazonov, however, Grey made no attempt at intervention. Instead, he met again with Lichnowsky that evening and sowed the seeds of confusion that deliberately included conditions and suppositions that mixed hope with dire warnings.35
Grey wrote four dispatches on 29 July that were later published as official documents in the British Blue Book.36 After the war, when some limited access was granted to national and parliamentary archives, it transpired that the telegrams had never been sent. It was part of a cosmetic charade to imply that Britain had made every effort to prevent war.
Bethmann and the kaiser, on the other hand, genuinely tried to apply the brakes and gain some control of the deteriorating situation. The German chancellor vigorously opposed any military measures that would ruin his diplomatic appeals. Unfortunately, he was almost the last man standing in that particular field. In Berlin, they held to the fading hope that British diplomats were men of honour, and great store was placed on the reassurances that King George V had recently given to Prince Henry of Prussia. The prince was convinced that the king’s statement ‘was made in all seriousness’ and that England would remain neutral at the start, but he doubted whether she would do so permanently.37 Germany pursued peace right up to the last minute. As Lloyd George later put it: ‘The last thing that the vainglorious kaiser wanted was a European war.’38 His and Bethmann’s valiant efforts failed because the Secret Elite and their agents had already engineered their war.
Sazonov anguished over the final decision. He was given to illness and depression, with mood swings and bouts of genuine self-doubt. If it was his weakness that initially attracted the Secret Elite to endorse his elevation to minister, it was also a problem that required careful handling. Sir George Buchanan was rarely far from his side. Nor was Paléologue, the French ambassador. When the news of Austria’s declaration of war on Serbia reached St Petersburg, Sazonov was gripped by a dangerous emotional cocktail of fear, suspicion, pressure from the military and the elation of possibly winning Constantinople. Concerned that Sazonov and the czar might lose their nerve at the eleventh hour, or that the czar could be talked out of war by his cousin the kaiser, the Secret Elite ensured that they received constant reassurance. The czar sent a desperate and revealing telegram to Wilhelm that gave a rare insight to his personal anguish:
I appeal to you to help me … I foresee that very soon I shall be unable to resist the pressure exercised upon me and that I shall be forced to take extreme measures which will lead to war …39
Clearly, Nicholas II was overwhelmed by the pressure being put on him by the warmongers and was burdened by the realisation that his actions, not the kaiser’s, would lead to war. His telegram was essentially a cri de coeur, a plea from his soul.
The kaiser was not impressed by what he saw as a confession of the czar’s personal weakness, but Wilhelm’s mind was also exercised by Socialist anti-war demonstrations on the streets of Berlin, which he refused to tolerate. He ordered martial law.40 These were indeed troubled and distracting times in many European capitals.
The czar’s telegram crossed one sent to him by the kaiser at 1.45 a.m. on 29 July. Wilhelm advised him that he, as kaiser, would do his utmost to induce Austria-Hungary to obtain a frank and satisfactory understanding with Russia. The telegram ended: ‘I hope confidently that you will support me in my efforts to overcome all difficulties which may arise.’41 His appeal was genuinely made and honestly intended. Germany continued to give time to find a peaceful solution – in contrast to Russia, which was already on the move.
During the afternoon of the 29th, Nicholas II caved in to pressure and signed the order for the general Russian mobilisation. As his telegram showed, he knew it meant war.42 But he remained ill at ease. Several hours later, following a personal plea from the kaiser that Russian mobilisation meant it would be impossible for him to continue to act as mediator for peace, the czar reversed his decision.43 At 9.30 p.m., urgent instructions were sent to the St Petersburg Telegraph Office to halt the general mobilisation. The Russian general staff were outraged at the stupidity of such a command. Allegations were later made that they continued the full programme for general mobilisation despite the czar’s order. In fact, Russia had been in the process of mobilising since the 25th, and the military had no intention of losing the precious five-day advantage they had already gained.44
Europe in 1914. Germany and Austria-Hungary stand alone. Italy did not join in the Triple Alliance.
(Map courtesy of the Arizona Geographic Alliance, School of Geographical Sciences and Urban Planning, Arizona State University; Becky Eden, cartographer)
Intelligence reports citing Russian troop movements along her frontiers were continually relayed to Berlin. Moltke could not afford to delay a military response for long. He was responsible for the defence of Germany, and it would have been completely incompetent to wait and see how events unfolded before reacting to the Russians. He was not fooled by their assurances that they had not yet mobilised or that no reserves had been called up. He warned the chancellor that ‘she [Russia] has been getting herself so ready for war that, when she actually issues her mobilisation orders, she will be able to move her armies forward in a very few days’.45 The kaiser, however, did not want to give Russia, France and particularly Britain any excuse to block negotiations for peace, and overruled Moltke.
In London that evening, 29 July, the Secret Elite’s political placemen, Grey, Asquith, Haldane and Churchill, held a private meeting to discuss what Asquith called ‘the coming war’.46 Apart from Lloyd George, these were the only senior British politicians who knew what was about to happen. Parliament, in both Houses, was completely ignorant of the fact that Britain was going to war. Maurice Hankey, the Secret Elite’s invaluable secretary to the Committee of Imperial Defence, advised them to declare a ‘precautionary period’ on the road to war. Hankey was indispensable and at the centre of all the major decision making. He was the keeper of minutes, the organiser of instructions: the man who linked the centre of the Cabinet to the Civil Service.
Churchill left the meeting, went straight to the Admiralty and ordered the British fleet to proceed immediately to war stations at Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands. The Grand Fleet may have been mobilised in full view, but it passed through the Straits of Dover in total secrecy. There was no glory for the British navy as it sneaked away in the dark of night with lights extinguished. Ten days previously it had paraded with all flags flying before the king in a line that stretched for forty miles.47
On the 29th, while the kaiser was working to preserve the peace, the fleets and armies of his opponents were busily preparing for war.48 Chancellor Bethmann could see that Germany was being progressively surrounded by the proverbial ‘ring of steel’, and his last ray of hope lay in the British government’s announcement that it wanted nothing more than to cultivate friendship with Germany. How was he to know that it was simply part of Sir Edward Grey’s deception? Bethmann was left with no alternative but to put Britain’s ‘friendly’ overtures to the test. He discussed the critical European situation with Goschen, the British ambassador in Berlin, and detailed a number of promises that Germany would honour if Bri
tain agreed to remain neutral. He was being honest and forthright: qualities that were alien to the Machiavellian instincts in the British Foreign Office. And in his openness, Bethmann gave a hostage to fortune. He was quoted as saying: ‘provided that Belgium did not take sides against Germany, her integrity would be respected after the conclusion of the war’.49 This was the moment for which the Secret Elite had been waiting. Goschen immediately telegraphed the German proposals to the Foreign Office.
Sir Eyre Crowe, one of Grey’s minders at the Foreign Office, reacted with affected indignation when the telegram arrived. His instant verdict was that these were ‘astounding proposals’ that reflected very poorly on Bethmann. More pertinently, he portrayed the German chancellor’s words as proof that ‘Germany practically admits her intention to violate Belgium’.50 His intemperate language was mimicked by Sir Edward Grey, who rushed to Asquith to report that Germany had ‘despicably’ tried to bargain Belgium’s future against Britain’s neutrality. In his memoirs, Grey recorded his ‘despair’ when he read Bethmann’s ‘dishonouring proposal’.51 Despair? He felt nothing of the kind. Belgium had always been the answer; it was only a matter of time before the Belgian question would be raised. And witness too the vocabulary with which they rushed to damn Bethmann’s serious and honest proposals on neutrality. When he addressed the House of Commons the following day, Grey made no mention of the proposals from Germany that he and his advisers had already rejected.52 Bonar Law, the Conservative leader, asked if there was any information that the foreign secretary could give to the House regarding the critical events in Europe. Grey replied: ‘There is very little that I can say.’ He knew he could not possibly divulge the German offer, since a majority in the Cabinet and the House of Commons would agree to neutrality and vote to keep Britain out of a war. If Russia wanted to start a European war over Serbia and her assassins, and France blindly followed, the most popular parliamentary view would have been to let them get on with it. Grey concluded: ‘We continue to work to preserve European peace.’ It was a well-prepared soundbite, and Bonar Law asked no follow-up question.53 Neither man wanted to open a debate on British neutrality.
Hidden History: The Secret Origins of the First World War. Page 39
