by Roy Jenkins
2 Asquith’s detachment from the business outlook, combined with his acceptance of some of its doctrines, is well illustrated by a story of C.F.G. Masterman’s, relating to the period after the outbreak of war: The question of large speculative profits being made out of shipping cargoes of food or munitions to England arose: “ Disgusting,” said Asquith:
“ A minister at once protested. He declared that this was the normal operation of trade. He declared that if their men had not done it other men would have done the same. He declared that if they had chosen not to bring the stuff to England they could probably have attained as much or greater profit by taking it to neutral or allied countries.' ' I can see nothing disgraceful' he said ‘ about the whole transaction.’ ‘ I did not say disgraceful ’ said Mr. Asquith with a characteristic shrug of the shoulders.
'I said disgusting' ” (Masterman: England After War. p. 143).
The miners had returned to work by mid-April. The Government’s wage machinery bill, unwelcome though it had been to the owners and inadequate though it had seemed to the men, destroyed the force behind the strike. The next threat came from the Transport Federation —with the trouble again centred on the London docks. This time the Government, at Asquith’s instigation, tried to act in advance and established a Cabinet committee composed of Lloyd George, Haldane, Beauchamp, Buxton and McKinnon Wood to watch the situation and attempt mediation. It was unsuccessful, as was a further attempt by Asquith himself after the strike had started. The employers under Lord Devonport, who as H. E. Kearley, M.P. had been Lloyd George’s parliamentary secretary in the early days of the Government, were determined to hold out for a clear victory. They secured it, and the men trickled back to work at the end of July, 1912. That was effectively the end of the great pre-1914 strike wave.
The threat of European war, which in the summer of 1911 had closely matched the dangers of violent industrial upheaval, subsided more quickly but less permanently. The year between the Moroccan settlement of October, 1911, and the outbreak of the first Balkan War — the fourth of the five great crises which led up to August, 1914— was a period of relative calm. But after Agadir, and the fears which that incident engendered, opinion amongst the members of the Liberal Government and the officials who served them was never quite the same again. Hitherto, only a few clear-sighted fanatics like Sir Henry Wilson, the Director of Military Operations at the War Office, had acted on the assumption that a major war was likely. The great majority of those in positions of power passed through occasional moments of nervousness, but in general they averted their eyes from the prospect of a holocaust, dismissing it as unlikely as well as distasteful. The change during the Moroccan crisis was symbolised by Lloyd George and Churchill.
Earlier in the life of the Government, as has been seen, they were the leading “ economists" sceptical of the German danger and instinctively hostile to any increase in the service estimates. Behind Lloyd George, moreover, there still trailed his Boer War past. If Haldane and Grey were the most “ imperialist ” members of the Government, so it was assumed, almost without question, that he was the firmest of the “ Little Englanders"But on July 21st, at the height of the Moroccan dispute, he went out of his way at the Lord Mayor’s annual dinner to the bankers to deliver a sharp warning to Germany and to proclaim that peace at the price of our exclusion from European influence “ would be a humiliation intolerable for a great country like ours to endure.” And in August he wrote to Churchill: “ The thunderclouds are gathering. I am not at all satisfied that we are prepared, or that we are preparing.f
As for Churchill himself, Grey has described how he reacted to the events of that summer and to the tension which continued without respite as the hot days grew shorter:
One other colleague, not tied to London by official work, kept me company for love of the crisis.... He insisted on taking me once to see (Sir Henry) Wilson, and their talk was keen and apparently not the first that they had had. Let me not be supposed to imply that Churchill was working for war, or desired it.... It was only that his high-mettled spirit was exhilarated by the air of crisis and high events. His companionship was a great refreshment, and late in the afternoon he would call for me and take me to the Automobile Club, which was but thinly populated, like other clubs, at that season. There, after what had been to me a weary, perhaps an anxious, day he would cool his ardour and I revive my spirits in the swimming bath.g
Henceforward a large part of Churchill’s interest was concentrated on the field of national preparedness; and he saw an early opportunity to involve himself much more closely with these matters. On August 27th Asquith had convened a special meeting of the Committee of Imperial Defence. Of those who normally attended Balfour was away —nursing his Parliament Bill grievances (against his own colleagues much more than against the Government) at Bad Gastein. Lloyd George and Churchill were specially summoned. At this meeting it transpired that there was a wide divergence between the war plans of the Admiralty and those of the War Office. The naval plan was to attack the German fleet and then to land packets of troops at different points along the Baltic coast. The army wanted six divisions transported to France immediately. Furthermore, the organisation of the two departments was utterly different. The army had the Imperial General Staff. The navy had nothing analogous. They merely had Admiral Sir Arthur Wilson as First Sea Lord, and at this highly disputatious meeting he was badly worsted by the generals. Asquith, his own inclinations reinforced by a threat of resignation from Haldane, decided that the Admiralty must be made to accept both the War Office plan and sweeping changes in its own organisation. “ The present position, in which everything is locked up in the brain of a single taciturn Admiral, is both ridiculous and dangerous,” he wrote to Crewe a few weeks later.h
This could not be done without a political change at the Admiralty. McKenna was too loyal a servant of his department to be an effective instrument for imposing changes upon it. At the meeting on August 27th a new First Lord of the Admiralty emerged as an urgent requirement. Churchill saw this, and greatly coveted the post. So did Haldane, who was senior, closer to the Prime Minister, and far more experienced in service matters. That same night Asquith left for his autumn holiday in Scotland, taking the problem away with him. But he did not escape from the two suppliants. Haldane motored over from Cloan to Archerfield to press his claim upon the Prime Minister. On arrival he was met by a surprising and not entirely agreeable sight. “ As I entered the approach,” he wrote, “ I saw Winston Churchill standing at the door.”i Churchill had had much farther to come, but he had got there first. He had the added advantage of having established himself as a house guest. Haldane had to motor back to Cloan that evening, although he returned for further consultations on the next day. On this occasion Asquith characteristically shut his two ministers up in a room together and allowed them to argue with each other. Haldane tried hard, but he got the worst of the argument. “ Churchill would not be moved,” he rather sadly recorded, “ and Asquith yielded to him.” j
In giving the appointment to Churchill, however, Asquith was influenced by considerations beyond the younger man’s greater pertinacity. The reason he gave to Haldane was that, with naval affairs likely to be a centre of controversy, certainly within the Liberal Party and perhaps between the two parties, he wanted a First Lord in the Commons.1 The still more compelling reason, was that, although he had given the victory to the generals in the clash of August 27th, he did not wish to rub the noses of the admirals too deeply in the dirt; and this meant he could not ask the Secretary of State for War to step in and clean up their mess.
1 Haldane had been created a viscount in April, 1911. Crewe’s illness made it necessary to strengthen the Government front bench in the Lords. Grey was suggested but refused to go. Haldane was more amenable. His principal ambition was still centred on the Woolsack (to which he was to succeed on Loreburn’s retirement a little over a year later), so that he lost little by leaving the Commons.
In addition, t
here may have been yet a third reason at the back of his mind. If, by appointing Churchill to the Admiralty he could permanently detach him (and perhaps Lloyd George as well) from the “ economist ” wing of the party, the cohesion of the Government would be considerably increased. This proved to be the case. Haldane, who took his defeat without bitterness, wrote to his mother a few weeks later:
Winston and L.G. dined with me last night and we had a very useful talk. This is now a very harmonious Cabinet. It is odd to think that three years ago I had to fight those two for every penny for my army reforms. Winston is full of enthusiasm about the Admiralty and just as keen as I am on the War Staff. It is delightful to work with him. L.G. too has quite changed his attitude and is now very friendly to your “ bear ”, whom he used to call “ the Minister for Slaughter.k
Churchill’s first task at the Admiralty was to get rid of Wilson. It had been assumed that this could not be done until the following April, when the Admiral was due to retire, but the new First Lord accomplished it by the end of November.
The other principal consequence of the Moroccan crisis, for the Liberal Government, was that it brought somewhat more into the open the military conversations which had taken place with the French. During the election of 1906 a previous Moroccan crisis—leading up to the Algeciras Conference—had been in progress. The French ambassador had asked Grey what help France could expect in the event of a German attack. Grey, without putting the matter before the Cabinet, had replied that he could enter into no commitment, but that his personal view was that in this event we would not stand aside. The French then asked for military conversations. Grey decided that to refuse these would be to pre-judge the issue—against intervention. Without such conversations we would have no ability to render effective help, even if we desired to do this when the time came. Accordingly, after consultation with Haldane, he told the ambassador that talks might proceed. The Cabinet remained unaware of these developments until 1911.
Grey himself subsequently admitted that he had made a mistake in not asking for Cabinet sanction in 1906. But the view, widely propagated after 1914, that he failed to do this because of a Liberal Imperialist plot to mislead the more pacifist members of the Government, is untenable. Not only Haldane, who might have been part of the plot, but Campbell-Bannerman and Ripon (as leader of the House of Lords), who could not have been part of it, were fully consulted and informed. Campbell-Bannerman, had he so wished, could have brought the matter before the Cabinet at any time. And Asquith, ironically, was kept far more in the dark than his “ Little Englander ” predecessor. He was not informed in 1906, and there is no evidence that he was told of the position even when he succeeded to the premiership. In April, 1911, when it seemed likely that the French would ask for further conversations, Grey wrote Asquith an informal account of what had occurred in 1906, and did so in terms which suggested that he was telling him for the first time. And he specifically asked that Morley, who was as pacifist as any member of the Cabinet, should be brought into the discussion.
Perhaps because he was told so late, Asquith was always a little cool towards the military interchanges. Later in the year, when the second round was in progress, he wrote from Archerfield:
September 5, 1911
“ My dear Grey,
Conversations such as that between Gen. Joffre and Col. Fairholme seem to me rather dangerous; especially the part which refers to possible British assistance. The French ought not to be encouraged, in present circumstances, to make their plans on any assumptions of this kind.
Yours always,
H.H.A.l
Grey replied unyieldingly: “ It would create consternation if we forbade our military experts to converse with the French. No doubt these conversations and our speeches have given an expectation of support. I do not see how that can be helped.”m For the moment he had his way.
Later in the autumn, when ministers had returned to London, Morley raised the whole matter in full Cabinet. The best part of two meetings was devoted to the discussion. After the first, on November ist, Asquith reported to the King:
Lord Morley raised the question of the inexpediency of communications being held or allowed between the General Staff of the War Office and the General Staff of foreign States, such as France, in regard to possible military co-operation, without the previous knowledge and directions of the Cabinet. Lord Haldane explained what had actually been done, the communications in question having been initiated as far back as 1906 with Sir H. Campbell-Bannerman’s sanction, and resumed in more detail during the spring and summer of the present year The Prime Minister pointed out that all questions of policy have been and must be reserved for the decision of the Cabinet, and that it is quite outside the function of military or naval officers to prejudge such questions. . . . Considerable discussion ensued, and no conclusion was come to, the matter being adjourned for further consideration later on.n
This further consideration took place on November 15th, and Asquith wrote of “ a prolonged and animated discussion ”:
Sir E. Grey made it clear that at no stage of our intercourse with France since January 1906 had we either by diplomatic or military engagements compromised our freedom of decision and action in the event of war between France and Germany. On the other hand there was a prevailing feeling in the Cabinet that there was a danger that communications of the kind referred to might give rise to expectations, and that they should not, if they related to the possibility of concerted action, be entered into or carried on without the sanction of the Cabinet.
In the result, at the suggestion of the Prime Minister, unanimous approval was given to the two following propositions:
(1) That no communications should take place between the General Staff here and the Staffs of other countries which can, directly or indirectly, commit this country to military or naval intervention.
(2) That such communications, if they relate to concerted action by land or sea, should not be entered into without the previous approval of the Cabinet.0
This outcome cannot have been welcome to Grey. First, he regarded at least one of the propositions as unduly restrictive, although he did not press his opposition. Upon their original draft (which was in Asquith’s hand), Grey wrote, “ I think the last paragraph is a little tight but he subsequently crossed out this comment. Secondly, it is difficult to believe that the form taken by the Cabinet discussions did not amount to a mild rebuke for what the Foreign Secretary had done. But reluctant minister although Grey always claimed to be, this produced no suggestion of resignation. Nor did it lead to any diminution of Asquith’s confidence in him. A fortnight later the Prime Minister was writing to Crewe in unusually effusive terms about a speech of the Foreign Secretary’s. He spoke of “ a tremendous day,” “ a great performance,” and “the effect which (Grey) alone is capable of producing in the House of Commons.”
The Cabinet may have been unrealistic in pretending that there ever could be staff conversations without some indirect commitment. But if there was deceit, it was self-deceit. From November, 1911 onwards the basic facts of what was taking place were in the possession of every minister. In the spring of 1912 there were further requests from the French for naval co-operation. These were reported to the Cabinet and led to an exhaustive discussion, spread over four meetings, on the whole disposition of the British fleet. And in November of that year, when the Anglo-French understanding was committed to writing in the form of an exchange of letters between Grey and Cambon, the draft of Grey’s letter was submitted to, and amended by, the Cabinet. Morley in particular, who after 1914 complained that he had been kept in ignorance throughout, was fully informed, both as the instigator of the vital Cabinet discussions in 1911, and as a member of the Committee of Imperial Defence.
The third threat of violence which hung over England in 1911 came from the suffragettes. “ Militancy ” had begun as long before as October, 1905, when Christabel Pankhurst and Annie Kenney succeeded in wrecking a meeting which Grey was address
ing in Manchester.1
1 The occasion on which this first attack took place was curiously symbolic of the irrational choice of targets which was to become a growing characteristic of the movement. Grey was in opposition at the time; he was a determined supporter of female suffrage; and a victory for the party whose case he was endeavouring to advocate would result in a House of Commons far more favourable to the women’s cause than that which then existed.
In the early years of the Liberal Government it grew gradually, and the methods employed became progressively more violent. In September, 1909 the permanent secretary to the Home Office sent Herbert Gladstone a Metropolitan Police report that women were practising pistol shooting at an address in Tottenham Court Road, “ The annexed report,” he commented, “ seems to me to show that there is now definite ground for fearing the possibility of the P.M’s being fired at by one of the pickets at the entrance of the House (of Commons). He added, however, that he was against the pickets being removed as the police were confident that they could get a woman before she “ damaged ” the Prime Minister. Gladstone was nervous, but Asquith unhesitatingly pronounced against removal.
