By
Sunday morning the members of Asquith’s Cabinet knew of the German declaration
of war against Russia; more ominous news was soon to follow. At 10:15 a.m. Lloyd
George, Harcourt, Beauchamp, Simon, Runciman and Pease met at 11, Downing Street
where they agreed that they were ‘not prepared to go into war now, but that in
certain events [they] might reconsider [the] position such as the invasion of
Belgium.’
It is tempting to suggest that at least one section of the Cabinet was about to
engage in some backsliding. As the pacifists concerted their final attempt to
influence policy, Paul Cambon had in his hands an en clair message from Paris stating that the Germans had violated
Luxembourg’s neutrality. Cambon immediately appreciated two salient facts:
first, that the Treaty of London of 1867 (whose signatories included Prussia and
Britain) guaranteed the neutrality of Luxembourg; and second, that the invasion
of Luxembourg must presage that of Belgium. At first Grey agreed to see Cambon
at three o’clock that afternoon, after that morning’s Cabinet; Cambon
insisted and was granted an immediate audience.
The implication was manifest. In case Grey did not appreciate it, George Clerk
at the Foreign Office pointed out that it was ‘impossible for the German
troops to get out of Luxembourg without crossing Belgian territory except
through a narrow bottle-neck into France.’
Grey’s other visitor
that morning was Lichnowsky. Following the emotional scene with Asquith, the
German Ambassador then called on Grey to urge him not to destroy ‘for all time
to come our mutual co-operation, of late so fruitful.’ Grey could give no
definite assurances. With the refusal of both Grey and Asquith to confront the
situation, in what must have been an embarrassing encounter for them both,
Lichnowsky returned to his Embassy with the ‘distinct impression’ that both
Grey and Asquith still desired neutrality. Clearly, neither the Prime Minister
nor the Foreign Secretary wanted war; this was not the same thing as a desire
for neutrality while France was crushed. Lichnowsky’s wishful thinking led him
to cable Berlin to suggest that the German Navy should ‘refrain from all
activities which might lead to accidents or be regarded as provocations. In this
category would belong above all any
naval operations against the northern coast of France which has been left
exposed through France relying on England. Naval operations against Russia are
matters of no concern to England.’
At the same time as Lichnowsky was making this plea, Moltke informed Jagow that
‘England’s neutrality is of such importance to us’ that a concession could
be made ‘unconditionally’. However, this ‘concession’ was only to pledge
‘moderation in case of a victory over France.’ There was no mention of the
curtailment of naval operations. Meanwhile, upon learning on Sunday that the
Anglo-German cable had been cut ‘by England’ Tirpitz wanted to know,
‘whether, as a result of this fact, we are to consider ourselves in a state of
war with England.’ Eventually, on Monday 3 August, the German Foreign Minister
would pledge that the northern coasts of France would not be threatened so long
as Britain remained neutral. By then, it was too late; and, as I have indicated
above, considerable doubt must remain as to the veracity with which such a
pledge would be viewed.
The
first session of the unprecedented Sunday Cabinet lasted from 11 a.m. to almost
2 p.m. It commenced with Grey, free from the doubt of the previous day, arguing
strongly in favour of the pledge being given to the French. ‘We agreed at
last, (with much difficulty),’ wrote Asquith, ‘that Grey should be
authorised to tell Cambon that our fleet would not allow the German fleet to
make the Channel the base of hostile operations.’
(‘Was ever anything heard like this?’ recorded Sir Henry Wilson. ‘What is
the difference between the French coast and the French frontier?’) Walter
Runciman’s pencilled note of the discussion recorded that,
Grey proposes definitely (I) To
announce to France & Germany that if the German ships enter the Channel we
should regard that as a hostile act. (II) On Belgian neutrality, we do not
commit ourselves at present. We are consulting Parliament. Crewe would not
hesitate to go to war over the English Channel. Several others agreed. McKenna
suggested instead that the Channel should be neutralised to both. Grey says that
to niggle is not worth while. If the Channel is closed against Germany it is in
favour of France, & we cannot take half measures ‑ either we must
declare ourselves neutral, or in it. If we are to be neutral he will go, but he
cannot blame the Cabinet if they disagree with him. He therefore asks for a
sharp decision. P.M. read letter from Bonar Law in which he & Lansdowne
promise that they will support us in going in with France. P.M. reads his
summary of considerations to weigh with Cabinet & proposed to say in Parlt.
that we cannot allow the Channel to be violated. We must come to a decision on
neutrality of Belgium now.
It
is clear from this account that the Cabinet had shifted ground since the
previous day, and that it was the ‘Channel question’, and not the issue of
Belgian neutrality which had caused the shift. Only John Burns announced his
intention of resigning, believing that the pledge meant war; he was then
persuaded to remain until at least the planned evening meeting of the Cabinet.
According to Runciman some years later, ‘Whether we had been parties to the
Treaty for the protection of Belgium or not, I held the view that we could not
tolerate the German fleet in the English Channel, and this country would be in
the gravest peril, even if we had not declared war against Germany, if and when
the Germans captured and held the French Channel Ports. Some of the others did
not hold this view, but I was not alone in either holding or expressing it.’
The Cabinet had been pushed by Grey one step closer to intervention as a result
of the tacit naval dispositions. This was also confirmed by Runciman, who
recalled that ‘Everyone who thought about it felt that we could not tolerate
the German army at the ports of the North of France, or the German fleet in the
Channel. I never felt that the Belgian Security Treaty was the big fact. My
thoughts were always centred on the importance to us of the free passage of the
English Channel, both for the purpose of our supplies to London and for the
purpose of our easy communication with the Continent.’ Runciman did not
believe that there was either a binding or a moral obligation to France, but
that, simply, ‘a victory for Germany would be disastrous for us.’
Even
Morley was forced to acquiesce in this analysis: there had been, he noted, a
general agreement that ‘(1) We owed it to France, in view of the Entente, and
also of her value to us in the Mediterranean. (2) We could not acquiesce in a
Franco-German naval conflict in the narrow seas, on our doorstep so to say.’
Once more, there was no mention of Belgium. Churchill’s subsequent portrait of
Morley highlighted his dilemma:
The
majority of the Cabinet was for leaving France and Germany and the other Powers
great and small to fight it out as they pleased, and Morley found himself looked
to as a leader by a gathering band. But the issues were clouded and tangled.
There was Belgium and the faith of Treaties. There were the undefended coasts of
France, and the possibility of the German fleet ‘on our very doorstep’
cannonading Calais, while the French battleships as the result of tacit
agreement with us were stationed in the Mediterranean. Morley was no doctrinaire
or fanatic. The ‘doorstep’ argument weighed with him. It
persuaded the Cabinet. John Burns alone resisting and resigning, they agreed
unitedly that the Germans should be told we could not allow them in the Channel.
This was a far-reaching decision.
When
Jack Pease asked, ‘If we tell the Germans they may not move their fleet &
come out is not that tantamount to a declaration of war?’ Grey could only
reply that it was not. He believed that ‘war will come & it is due to
France they shall have our support.’ When he came to write his
memoirs, Grey was more forthright. ‘I remember saying more than once,’ he
recalled, ‘to colleagues inside or outside the Cabinet, that it
did not matter whether the decision was to go to war or to demand conditions
from Germany. Conditions meant war just as surely as a declaration of war.’
Events
had moved rapidly in twenty-four hours. Since the previous meeting of the
Cabinet on Saturday, Germany had moved on three fronts: on land, east and west,
and at sea in the Mediterranean.
The first battle — the battle for intervention — had been won by Asquith,
Churchill and Grey. The second, over Cabinet unity, would be fought out during
the remainder of the day, with the knowledge that the Conservatives were waiting
upon the outcome. To disguise his own culpability Grey subsequently maintained
that the pledge to France had originated from an ‘anti-war’ member of the
Cabinet along the lines of, ‘Of course we can’t have the German fleet come
knocking down the Channel, we must stop that.’
‘It might be supposed’, Grey claimed in his memoirs, ‘that this suggestion
came as a tactical move from a pro-French quarter made and designed to shake or
sap the position of the anti-war section. It was no such thing. It came
spontaneously from the anti-war quarter and was based, first, simply on the
ground of feeling and sentiment.’
On the other hand, Crewe, who could hardly be described as ‘anti-war’,
claimed the honour of first raising the point.
Naturally,
Grey would not have been a disinterested spectator during these discussions; it
was he, after all, who would have to face Cambon again, and he thereupon stated
his own position unambiguously. This was, after all, one of the two ‘cardinal
points’ which apparently weighed most heavily with the Foreign Secretary;
certainly, Walter Runciman had ‘no record of the guarantee to France of the
English Channel being a suggestion due to the anti-war party.
Furthermore, Grey himself admitted that his recollection of the three days of
the August Bank Holiday weekend was one ‘of almost continuous Cabinets and of
immense strain; but of what passed in discussion very little remains in my mind,
not even what part I took in the discussions.’
A fallible memory is often a convenient memory. Grey entered the Cabinet room on
Sunday morning needing to be able to tell Cambon that the French coasts were
safe from attack; this, after ‘much difficulty’, was precisely what he was
able to do as soon as the session finished. What is more important than
ascertaining precisely from which quarter the suggestion arose is the
acknowledgement that Grey was aware, at
the time, that ‘Conditions meant war just as surely as a declaration of
war.’ As Burns appreciated, the decision for intervention had just been taken.
As the battle for
Cabinet unity commenced Runciman recalled that a three-way split had developed,
between those determined to resign rather than go to war (Beauchamp, Morley,
Burns and Simon); those who followed what he called the ‘Grey-Asquith view’
which also included Churchill, Crewe, McKenna, Haldane, Samuel, Pease and
himself; and a middle section (Lloyd George, Harcourt, McKinnon Wood, Hobhouse,
Masterman and Birrell) that was still not entirely committed. One result of the
deliberations and the strain attached to a decision which must have been
anathema to them appeared to be a reluctance for certain members of the Cabinet
to admit to the position others perceived them to hold. Thus, Hobhouse agreed
that Harcourt, Beauchamp and Simon ‘were for unconditional peace’, while
Grey was ‘violently pro-French’ and Lloyd George ‘strongly anti-German’
which, while not quite the same thing, should have placed them firmly in the
interventionist camp. However, as Hobhouse further noted, ‘as the Liberal
papers were very anti-war, [Lloyd George] veered round and became peaceful.’
Instead, Grey’s principal ally was Churchill who ‘was of course for any
enterprise which gave him a chance of displaying the Navy as his instrument of
destruction.’ But next closest to Grey were, in Hobhouse’s view, Asquith,
Haldane and Hobhouse himself who, collectively, were ‘for war if there was
even a merely technical breach of the Belgian treaty’, while McKenna ‘was
for war if Belgian territory was violated, but against the dispatch of an
expeditionary force.’ The remainder, according to Hobhouse, occupied the
increasingly narrow middle ground.
Asquith’s
own interpretation, later that afternoon, although in agreement on the three-way
split, misrepresented both the non-interventionist and the uncommitted groups.
‘There is a strong party’, Asquith recorded, ‘including all the
“Beagles” and reinforced by Ll George Morley & Harcourt who are against
any kind of intervention in any event. Grey of course will never consent to
this, & I shall not separate myself from him. Crewe, McKenna, & Samuel
are a moderating intermediate body.’
Far from being part of an ‘intermediate body’, McKenna, by his own
admission, had no doubt that Britain was committed to France and so ‘took
little part in the discussion because of [his] firm conviction of the inevitable
outcome in the event of war being declared.’
Similarly Lloyd George was not opposed to ‘any kind of intervention’ and
indeed, according to the anti-war Simon, ‘failed at the pinch’, as he had
done ‘more than once before’.
Lloyd George’s passivity was explained by his mistress, Frances Stevenson, who
was at No. 11 throughout the Bank Holiday weekend. The Chancellor’s mind, she
noted, ‘was really made up from the first, that he knew we would have to go
in, and that the invasion of Belgium was, to be cynical, a heaven-sent excuse
for supporting a declaration of war.’
Asquith, however, did acknowledge Samuel’s contribution. This, and the fact
that Samuel’s own account is one of the most complete of the deliberations
that day, has given him a prominence he perhaps does not deserve.
This
morning’s Cabinet [Samuel informed his wife that evening] almost resulted in a
political crisis to be superimposed on the international and financial crisis.
Grey expressed a view which was unacceptable to most of us. He is outraged by
the way in which Germany and Austria have played with the most vital interests
of civilisation, have put aside all attempts at accommodation made by himself
and others, and while continuing to negotiate have marched steadily to war. I
expressed my own conviction that we should be justified in joining in the war
either for the protection of the northern coasts of France, which we could not
afford to see bombarded by the German fleet and occupied by the German army, or
for the maintenance of the independence of Belgium which we were bound by treaty
to protect and which again we could not afford to see subordinated to Germany.
But I held that we were not entitled to carry England into the war for the sake
of our goodwill for France or for the sake of maintaining the strength of France
and Russia against that of Germany and Austria. This opinion is shared by the
majority of the Cabinet with various degrees of emphasis on the several parts of
it. We sanctioned a statement being made by Grey to the French Ambassador this
afternoon, to be followed by a statement in Parliament tomorrow that we should
take action if the German fleet came down the Channel to attack France (Almost
the whole of the French fleet is in the Mediterranean). But Burns dissented,
feeling that Germany may regard this declaration as an act of hostility and may
declare war on us because of it. He is for neutrality in all circumstances. It
is probable that he will resign to-night and Morley may go with him. Strong
efforts are being made to persuade them not to go.
The
statement to be made to Cambon was agreed to, as mentioned, only after what
Asquith termed ‘much difficulty’.
By adding a third part to the equation (entering the war for the sake of
goodwill or to maintain the balance of power) Samuel had rather confused the
issue. As things stood on Sunday afternoon, a proven German violation of Belgian
neutrality would trigger British intervention, as would the German Fleet
‘coming down the Channel’. By agreeing to give the pledge to Cambon, the
Cabinet, as Pease realized, had narrowed its options still further. There
remains the question, by giving the pledge the day after refusing to sanction
the dispatch of the Expeditionary Force, was the Cabinet thinking solely in
terms of a naval war? Certainly, Runciman, at the time ‘instinctively disliked
… the dispatch of British troops to Flanders, and … would rather have seen
our operations restricted to the sea.’
Churchill also would attempt to persuade Lloyd George by disingenuously
intimating that the ‘naval war will be cheap — not more than 25 millions a
year.’
The attraction of a naval war was undeniable but illusory. As Hazlehurst has
noted, ‘For reluctant interventionists, the consequences of taking a hard line
over Belgian neutrality seemed, henceforth, more circumscribed. The worst
contingency was a naval commitment which the Germans might prudently decline to
challenge.’ The navalist vision for
the use of British troops, as an adjunct to fleet operations, had been exploded
in the Committee of Imperial Defence in August 1911. If the German High Seas
Fleet refused to give battle, the pinpricks which the Grand Fleet might have
been able, at a cost far in excess of Churchill’s estimate, to inflict upon
Germany would have counted for little as the great armies clashed on the
Continent in an orgy of blood and torn flesh. The hope that the conflict would
remain, in British terms, a naval one was unrealistic from the time it was
mooted; its purpose was to soothe consciences.
The
conversion of the middle section of the Cabinet, to the extent of sanctioning
Grey’s pledge to Cambon, was a crucial determinant in the subsequent decision
to intervene using the pretext of Belgium. An ancillary, though not unimportant,
factor was that by Sunday public opinion had turned decisively and was no longer
opposed to Britain’s entry into the War. Commander Barry Domvile gleefully
noted that afternoon that a very heavy shower ‘broke up the bloody Socialists
in Trafalgar Square.’ The anti-war gathering was replaced by excited crowds
‘in Downing Street & everywhere.’
Arthur Ponsonby, the Liberal M.P., noted, to his disgust, that at midnight the
streets were filled with ‘Bands of half drunken men shouting mafficking waving
flags: bands of French waiters shouting vive la France the war fever
beginning.’ According to McKenna, who
was convinced that Britain was ‘committed to France’, the lengthy
discussions of Sunday had but one purpose: ‘Such proposals as there were for a
mitigated participation, as for instance limiting the action of the German
Fleet, were so obviously futile that they could have had no reasonable purpose
but to avoid a decision until some members of the Cabinet were satisfied about
public opinion.’
Asquith,
who was ‘quite clear in my own mind as to what is right & wrong’, set
out his thoughts for his paramour, Venetia Stanley following the conclusion of
that morning’s Cabinet:
(1) We have no obligation of any kind either to France or Russia
to give them military or naval help.
(2) The despatch of the Expeditionary force to France at this
moment is out of the question & wd serve no object.
(3) We mustn’t forget the ties created by the long-standing
& intimate friendship with France.
(4) It as against British interests that France shd be wiped out
as a Great Power.
(5) We cannot allow Germany to use the Channel as a hostile base.
(6) We have obligations to Belgium to prevent her being utilised
& absorbed by Germany.
As Asquith was ‘thinking
aloud on paper’ it is perhaps unfair to dissect his list too minutely. Suffice
it to say that Asquith had, in 1911, been of the opinion that the dispatch of
only four of the six regular Divisions would still be of use to the French
and that the first item on his list, by omitting ‘moral’ before obligation,
was strictly correct. The remaining four items pointed in the direction of
intervention. During the afternoon’s adjournment, Asquith penned a similar
reply for the benefit of Bonar Law:
We
are under no obligation, express or implied, either to France or Russia to
render them military or naval help. Our duties seem to be determined by
reference to the following considerations:
(1)
Our long standing and intimate friendship with France.
(2)
It is a British interest that France should not be crushed as a great
Power.
(3)
Both the fact that France has concentrated practically their whole naval
power in the Mediterranean, and our own interests, require that we should not
allow Germany to use the North Sea or the Channel with her fleet for hostile
operations against the Coast or shipping of France.
(4)
Our treaty obligations (whatever their proper construction) in regard to
the neutrality and the independence of Belgium.
In regard to (1) and (2) we do not
think that these duties impose upon us the obligation at this moment of active
intervention either by sea or land. We do not contemplate, for instance, and are
satisfied that no good object would be served by, the immediate despatch of an
expeditionary force. In regard to (3) Sir E. Grey this (Sunday) afternoon sent
… [a] communication to the French Ambassador. In regard to (4) we regard Mr.
Gladstone’s interpretation of the Treaty of 1839 in the House of Commons on 10
August 1870 (203 Hansard 1787) as correctly defining our obligations. It is
right, therefore, before deciding whether any and what action on our part is
necessary to know what are the circumstances and conditions of any German
interference with Belgian territory.
Asquith
had altered the emphasis for the benefit of Bonar Law by dismissing the pledge
given to Cambon and in its place laying stress upon treaty obligations. By this
time, it was too late; Britain was already committed.
As Asquith calmly
attempted to reconcile the irreconcilable, the irony was that Cambon’s ‘petit papier’, which the Ambassador had threatened to use to
devastating effect, contained the following sentence: ‘The disposition, for
instance, of the French and British fleets respectively at the moment is not
based upon an engagement to co-operate in war.’ Clearly, either Grey
shamelessly used Cambon’s threat to railroad the rest of the Cabinet, or the
1912 Agreement was not worth the paper it was written on. Even Churchill, who
had warned so forthrightly in 1912 of the dangers of voluntarily surrendering
‘freedom of choice’, now became swept up, exhilarated, by the events
unfolding around him; and as for his senior naval adviser it is evident from the
note Battenberg submitted to Churchill on Sunday morning that the notion of
‘freedom of action’ was chimerical.
By
the morning of Sunday 2 August, it appeared increasingly likely that Italy would
adopt a course of neutrality. Perhaps recalling the Cabinet meeting of July 1912
at which it was accepted that a declaration of neutrality by either
Italy or Austria counted as one of the conditions which would allow for the withdrawal
of the British battle cruisers from the Mediterranean,
Churchill instructed Battenberg and Sturdee, the new C.O.S., to review the
Mediterranean dispositions. In the eventuality of Italy’s neutrality they were
to consider whether the four ships of Troubridge’s First Cruiser Squadron and
one battle cruiser or, alternatively, two heavy cruisers and two battle
cruisers, should not return home. So much for Churchill’s promise to Milne on
30 July that the Mediterranean would be reinforced. ‘The French’, Churchill
added, ‘should be consulted about this, and as to their plans. You may do this
as a piece of staff work — making it clear that we cannot decide questions of
policy.’ Churchill was acting in
the spirit of the 1912 Grey-Cambon letters,
although his motive may have been dictated by his desire to maintain operational
control at least until the destruction of Goeben was assured.
Battenberg, who was clear as
to the direction that Admiralty policy had taken during his tenure, first stated
the position concisely: ‘England massed in the North, safeguarding
French interests against Germany. France massed in Meditn., safeguarding
British interests against Austria.’ The First Sea Lord immediately had second
thoughts with regard to the French task; it would not do to accredit to the
French the responsibility of protecting British interests exclusively.
Battenberg thereupon replaced “British interests” with the more politic
“joint interests”; however, the corresponding change was not made to the
altruistic British task, which seemed to be concerned solely with protecting the
French. As Italy was now almost certain excluded from the calculation, the
French Fleet of twenty-six battleships (including four dreadnoughts), nineteen
armoured cruisers, ten protected cruisers, eighty-five destroyers and
seventy-nine submarines, although admittedly comprising many obsolete vessels,
would have to face an Austrian force of twelve battleships (three of which were
dreadnoughts), three armoured cruisers, five protected cruisers, eighteen
destroyers and six submarines. Battenberg concluded that France was
overwhelmingly superior to Austria in battleships, armoured cruisers and torpedo
craft, but quite deficient in light cruisers. Aware that the German Mittelmeerdivision
had to be covered by the British, Battenberg proposed that Indefatigable
(the newest of the three British battle cruisers) and the light cruiser Dublin
should remain on station to deal with Goeben
and Breslau and that the other light cruisers should stay to assist the
French but that the remainder – two battle cruisers and the four heavy
cruisers of the First Cruiser Squadron – should return to the North Sea.
Sturdee, as his name almost seemed to imply, was more cautious. ‘I rather hold
that an open mind be kept on making any reduction’, he informed the First Sea
Lord:
The
situation will have to be very clear before doing so [Sturdee argued]. Even
against Austria and the Goeben. If
French and English squadrons do not work well in combination the reduction could
not be made. In any case I should prefer leaving for a time First Cruiser
Squadron with the Inflexibles on the station. First Cruiser Squadron might prove
a valuable asset for our trade either in Mediterranean or from Gibraltar.
Was
Battenberg seriously of the opinion that a single battle cruiser and light
cruiser could guarantee the destruction of Goeben
and Breslau, or was it simply a case
of writing what he thought the First Lord wanted to hear? Sturdee’s more
realistic counsel prevailed and at 1.30 on the afternoon of Sunday, 2 August,
just as the first session of the Cabinet was drawing to a close, Battenberg
drafted a signal to Milne ordering that ‘Goeben
must be shadowed by two battle-cruisers. Approaches to Adriatic must be watched
by cruisers and destroyers. Remain near Malta yourself.’ To this, Churchill,
having returned from Downing Street, added: ‘It is believed that Italy will
remain neutral. You cannot yet count absolutely on this.’
While the Grand Fleet remained at anchor in its North Sea bases, and as the
Cabinet deliberated on the question of safeguarding the Northern coasts of
France, the British Mediterranean Fleet had been placed on a war footing with
instructions to shadow the Mittelmeerdivision.
This could have had but one purpose: to prevent the German battle cruiser from
attacking French troop transports.
Grey
saw Cambon at 2.30 p.m., after the Cabinet had adjourned, to impart the good
news. The French Ambassador was informed: ‘In case the German fleet came into
the Channel or entered the North Sea in order to go round the British Isles with
the object of attacking the French coasts or the French navy and of harassing
French merchant shipping, the British fleet would intervene in order to give to
French shipping its complete protection, in such a way that from that moment
Great Britain and Germany would be in a state of war.’
Grey also pointed out
that
we have large questions and most difficult issues to consider and that
Government felt that they could not bind themselves to declare war upon Germany
necessarily if war broke out between France and Germany tomorrow, but it was
essential to the French Government, whose fleet had long been concentrated in
the Mediterranean, to know how to make their dispositions with their north coast
entirely undefended.
‘We
therefore thought it necessary to give them an assurance’, Grey informed Frank
Bertie soon after. This assurance, Grey tendentiously maintained, ‘did not
bind us to go to war with Germany unless the German Fleet took the action
indicated, but it did give a security to France that would enable her to settle
the disposition of her own Mediterranean Fleet.’
Cambon knew precisely what it meant: ‘The game was won’, he subsequently
stated. ‘A great country does not make war by halves.’
At
the Admiralty shortly thereafter, Churchill (in the presence of Battenberg and
Sturdee) informed de Saint-Seine of the Cabinet’s decision and added that Grey
had spoken to the German Ambassador concerning the pledge to France. This would
appear to be borne out by Grey’s subsequent recollection: ‘The promise to
defend these coasts was given to France. The German Government were informed.
They promised not to attack these coasts …’
Grey made it appear that the German promise on Monday 3 August was the result of
Berlin being informed of the pledge to France; that is, this information must
have been conveyed to the German Government before 9.30 on Monday morning at
which time Jagow telegraphed the ‘promise’ to London.
In fact, on Sunday afternoon, as soon as he had learned of Churchill’s faux
pas, Grey rushed to reassure Cambon:
I
hear Churchill told your Naval Attaché that my conversation to you this
afternoon was also made to the German Amb[assado]r. This is quite wrong: nothing
has been said to any other foreign representative except yourself or will be
said till a public statement is made.
The
public statement would not be made until the afternoon of Monday 3 August; as
shown above, Jagow’s offer was prompted by Lichnowsky’s appeal.
As
it was assumed that Milne, who was senior to Lapeyrère (a result of Fisher’s
dictum that the Mediterranean command should go to a full admiral), would be
recalled, de Saint-Seine was informed that ‘the direction of the allied fleets
in the Mediterranean [is] to rest with the French, the British Admiral
[Troubridge] being junior.’
The overall direction of the naval war was to rest with the British Admiralty;
however, ‘In the event of the neutrality of Italy being assured, France would
undertake to deal with Austria assisted only by such British ships as would be
required to cover German ships in that sea, and secure a satisfactory
composition of the allied fleet.’ This was formalized four days later when a
convention was signed in London by Battenberg and the Assistant Chief of the
French Naval Staff. Section (ii) of this convention stipulated that the French
would have general direction of operations in the Mediterranean, though it was
intended that eventually Troubridge would have some latitude to conduct
independent operations. The immediate problem, according to Battenberg, remained
the two rogue German ships: ‘So long as the Goeben and Breslau are not
destroyed or captured, the British naval forces at present in the Mediterranean
will co-operate with the French fleet in their destruction or capture. When this
operation has been completed the 3 English Battle-Cruisers and 2 or 3 of the
Armoured Cruisers will be released for general service’; the remainder of the
British forces would then be placed directly under the command of the French
C-in-C.
The transportation of the
XIXth Army Corps from French North Africa, had been a subject of controversy
between the opposing French ministries for over forty years.
Not until May 1913 did the Supreme Council of National Defence decree that, as
the arrival of the troops was of paramount importance, the transports should
sail independently, each steaming at its highest speed. A special division of
the French Fleet, comprising an obsolete pre-dreadnought and seven old cruisers
would be stationed just to the east of the line Algiers-Toulon, approximately
half-way along the route to be used by the transports, to provide a limited form
of close cover. The main protection for the transports would, however, be
provided by immediate offensive operations to be undertaken against the enemy by
the bulk of the French fleet.
This would hold true in the case of offensive operations against the Italian or
Austrian fleets, but did not address the problem caused by the presence of Goeben
and Breslau — fast and powerful raiders with, apparently, one specific
function: disrupting the transportation of the Algerian Corps.
The most onerous task would
devolve upon Rear-Admiral Darrieus, in command of the special division,
patrolling the midway point of the transports’ route. Darrieus was hardly
over-enamoured of his task, realizing that if Goeben
did break through the offensive cordon his obsolete ships would be the last line
of defence; he therefore requested first that his division should be
strengthened and then, in contravention of the long standing arrangement, that
the transports should be arranged into convoys to embark from two (not the
planned three) ports, Oran and Algiers. Lapeyrère forwarded these proposals to
Paris where they must have landed like a bombshell upon the desk of the unstable
Minister of Marine, Armand Gauthier, a doctor of medicine knowing next to
nothing of naval affairs and who had achieved his post after a political scandal
had caused the removal of his predecessor.
Gauthier’s increasingly erratic behaviour, which included at one point a
demand that Goeben should be attacked
before war had been declared, led to his replacement within days; however, his
reaction to Lapeyrère’s wire was predictable enough. The Admiral had been
involved in all the recent discussions, at which his position had been plainly
stated: he could not spare ships to escort convoys. And yet now Lapeyrère
wanted to alter a carefully thought out plan on the very eve of war. The Admiral
was ordered on 30 July to institute the plan as originally conceived.
The following day continuing
anxiety about the German ships resulted in the French C-in-C seeking permission
to send three old ships of the Division de Complément (Suffren, Gaulois, Charlemagne), which he had earlier proposed as a
reinforcement for Darrieus’ division, to Bizerta instead to guard against a
surprise attack by the Germans. Not receiving a reply quickly enough to satisfy
him, Lapeyrère telegraphed later that day to the effect that he would dispatch
the division on his own authority unless he received orders to the contrary.
Gauthier refused the request and reiterated his opposition to the formation of
convoys. Although he had agreed to
the 1913 plan, Lapeyrère was not an enthusiastic proponent of it, especially
where, in his opinion, the insistence on a timetable of sailings for the
transports hindered his freedom of action and detracted from the all-out
offensive at the outset.
The flaw in the plan
had always been that the troops were to be sent before French command of the sea
had been guaranteed. Lapeyrère now had to weigh in his own mind the
consequences of a disaster befalling the XIXth Army Corps – upon whose
presence at the front the army apparently set so much store – against the
possible lost opportunity of an early victory at sea. The final version of the
French Army’s infamous Plan XVII, effective from 15 April 1914, stipulated
that the thirty-seven steamers to be used to transport the troops were to leave
between the third and seventh days of mobilization; convoys could be formed if
adjudged essential but only if no significant delay resulted.
It was this let-out clause which Lapeyrère now wanted to utilize. His position
was undoubtedly complicated in late July by the ambiguity of the attitudes of
Italy and Britain: although he could, in all probability, count on the former
declaring neutrality and the latter coming in as an ally of France, he could not
be absolutely sure. And, by the first days of August, the clarification of this
situation had been offset by the confusion reigning in Paris which in turn was
exacerbated by the command structure, by friction between the C-in-C and the
Naval Staff, and, above all, by the forlorn figure of Dr Gauthier. The hapless
Minister, having ‘forgotten’ to order torpedo boats into the Channel, had
wanted, on 2 August, to attack the Germans immediately, and then proceeded to
challenge the War Minister to a duel before finally breaking down in tears,
leading the President to conclude, somewhat euphemistically, that Gauthier’s
nerves were on edge.
In the crisis on Sunday
the situation in the Mediterranean was overlooked until the French Cabinet,
having regained some of its composure later in the afternoon, drafted a telegram
to Lapeyrère on the basis of the latest information regarding the whereabouts
of the German ships, which placed them at Brindisi on the night of 31 July/1
August. These orders, received by Lapeyrère at 8.50 p.m. on Sunday evening, 2
August, instructed him to set sail to try to intercept Goeben and Breslau and
reiterated the necessity to have the transports proceed independently. So
important was this deemed that the Minister of War, Messimy, accepted
responsibility for all risks.
Despite this generous offer, Lapeyrère remained unhappy; uncertainty surrounded
him. As early as 30 July the Cabinet had voluntarily withdrawn all French troops
ten kilometres from the frontier: this order had been reaffirmed by Messimy on 1
August while German mobilization continued apace. Only on the 2nd, that perilous
Sunday, did the arguments of General Joffre prevail: the territory abandoned
would, if captured by the Germans, have to be retaken later with great loss of
life. Even so, French desperation to portray Germany as the aggressor led Joffre
to declare on 3 August that no French troops must cross the frontier; any
‘incidents’ must arise as a result of German provocation.
Lapeyrère’s position was
more difficult: the enemy he had planned to oppose, Italy, showed no signs of
joining the fray. Yet he could not afford to let the German ships make the first
move as, in all probability, this would result not in some minor incident but
the sinking of a troop transport. In the circumstances, despite his earlier
willingness to allow independent sailing, he had now convinced himself that only
by convoy could the XIXth Army Corps be transported safely. Late on the night of
Sunday 2nd he telegraphed Paris again, setting out a virtual list of demands:
his fleet would sail so as to be off the African coast on the afternoon of the
4th; he had ordered the transports to stay in harbour; and convoys were
essential. As Sunday became Monday Lapeyrère received accurate information that
Goeben had been in Messina on the
previous day; finally, some hours later, at 4 a.m. on 3 August, the main body of
the French fleet weighed anchor and proceeded majestically, if hardly noticed,
out of Toulon harbour, safe in the knowledge that the defenceless northern
coasts of France were now a British responsibility.
Whether
they appreciated it or not (and Burns could not have been alone in recognizing
the fact), the first major hurdle
on the road to intervention had been crossed by the Cabinet in London, early on
the afternoon of Sunday 2 August. A decision had been taken for war in the event
of a certain contingency; it mattered not that that contingency might be remote.
Indeed, as I have already indicated, too much emphasis has been placed on
Jagow’s ‘promise’ the following day. The perception that Germany had
exhausted the last reserve of goodwill was over-riding. The non-interventionist
group now required an unimpeachable reason to justify their action. While
Churchill remained at the Admiralty examining the naval aspects of the pledge to
Cambon, Herbert Samuel had a late lunch at Beauchamp’s home with Lloyd George,
Harcourt, Simon, McKinnon Wood, Pease and Morley, presumably to discuss the
implications of the decision reached and to search for that unimpeachable
reason. By the end of the meeting, Samuel noted, ‘They all agreed with my
formula [intervention to be governed by a German assault on the northern coasts
of France or a violation of Belgian neutrality] except Morley, who is now so old
that the views he expresses are sadly inconsequent and inconsistent.’ Samuel
went from the informal meeting to see McKenna, whom he ‘found in bed, worn
out’. He then spent an hour at the Local Government Board before returning to
10, Downing Street where he had a short talk with Asquith about the ‘position
in the Cabinet’, at which Asquith reiterated his conviction that he would
‘stand by Grey in any event’.
This confirmed the polarization of the Cabinet. Time was now running out for the
‘uncommitteds’: the choice facing them was simple. Deny their consciences
and remain, safeguarding their own futures; or follow Burns’ intended course
and resign on the matter of principle.
After leaving Asquith, Samuel
made his way next door, where Lloyd George had invited a number of his
colleagues to tea. Amongst those present at this gathering were Hobhouse,
Harcourt, Beauchamp, Simon, McKinnon Wood, Pease, Morley and Runciman. According
to Runciman,
George
had apparently taken it for granted that we were all opposed to declaration of
war. He himself said to us while walking about the drawing-room that if we were
in the war he would retire to Criccieth. He could not campaign against this war
as he had done against the South African War. He said ‘There appears to be
nothing for a Liberal to do but to look on while the hurricane rages.’ While
we were there more detailed news of the German activities and of the perils of
Belgium came in to us. So far as I was concerned I had made it clear that I was
not dominated, as some of my colleagues were, by the Belgian situation.
What was this ‘more
detailed news’? Lichnowsky had been visited by Eyre Crowe during the afternoon
with the news that a report had just been received at the Foreign Office ‘to
the effect that the German troops in the neighbourhood of Nancy have crossed the
French frontier at numerous points in large numbers …’ Crowe clearly let it
be known that news of the alleged troop movement ‘would make a bad impression
at the Cabinet meeting which is to take place in the course of the evening …
and would perhaps not be without influence on the final decision.’
In the absence of what he perceived to be the correct lead from Grey, was Crowe
pursuing his own agenda?
The ‘perils of
Belgium’ had become a godsend. Before that evening had passed there appeared
to Runciman to be only four members of the Cabinet (Burns, Morley, Beauchamp and
Simon) ‘who were definitely against our entering the war.’
A last minute appeal by the Counsellor from the German Embassy could not
alleviate the effect of the latest war news: Kühlmann had gone to see Haldane
after the morning Cabinet adjourned to advise ‘England to stand out at first,
and then, after the first shock of arms, to dictate peace by a threat of
intervention.’ Haldane seemed interested by this suggestion but then Grey
appeared and replied, in effect, ‘that he had an honourable obligation to
France.’
Samuel’s account confirms the change which had come over the centre group
during the Chancellor’s tea:
When
the Cabinet resumed at 6.30 [Samuel wrote to his wife] the situation was easier,
the point of contention was not pressed, and with the exception of the two I
have mentioned [Burns and Morley], we remained solid. Had the matter come to an
issue Asquith would have stood by Grey in any event, and three others would have
remained. I think all the rest of us would have resigned. The consequence would
have been either a Coalition Government or a Unionist Government, either of
which would certainly have been a war ministry. Moreover, the division of or
resignation of the Government in a moment of utmost peril would have been in
every way lamentable. I still have hopes that Germany will neither send her
fleet down the Channel nor invade Belgium, and we shall be able to keep England
at peace while rendering to France the greatest of all services — the
protection of her northern coasts from the sea and the protection of her 150
miles of frontier with Belgium. If we can achieve this, without firing a shot,
we shall have accomplished a brilliant stroke of policy. For this object I have
been working incessantly all the week. If we do not accomplish it, it will be an
action of Germany’s, and not of ours which will cause the failure and my
conscience will be easy in embarking on the war...
Did
Samuel actually provide the formula around which the waverers could group, or
was the ‘march of events’ doing this? How seriously was the threat of
coalition Government viewed, and with it the possible destruction of the Liberal
Party as a force in British politics? Had not C. P. Scott warned that if Grey
‘let us into it there would be an end of the existing Liberal combination and
the next advance would have to be based on Radicalism and Labour’?
Was Samuel a decisive influence, or did he embroider his account to his wife to
exaggerate his own rôle? Samuel’s comment that he still hoped Germany would
not invade Belgium seems designed more to allay his wife’s fear than to
represent an accurate description of the likely course of events. Indeed,
fifteen years later, he would admit that ‘no definite conclusions were
reached’ at the informal meetings that afternoon as it ‘had become fairly
clear that the Belgian issue would arise in the most acute form.’
Masterman had, that morning, passed a note to Lloyd George: ‘If I had
to decide now I would guarantee Belgium and the Fleet policy. If Germany accepts
that, no war. But I am with McKenna and Runciman in fighting for time,
sooner than break up the Cabinet …’
This was the key to Samuel’s efforts that weekend: to wait until an action of
Germany compelled British intervention and salved the Cabinet’s collective
conscience. Was this not what Asquith himself was trying to do? And, once this
did occur, the historical record could then be altered so that the obligation to
uphold Belgian neutrality and not the pledge to safeguard French coasts became
the principal determinant.
Samuel’s rôle was superfluous from the moment Grey spoke to Cambon at 2.30 on
the afternoon of Sunday 2 August. Following the conversion of the centre group
and the imminent utilization of the issue of Belgian neutrality the mood at the
evening Cabinet had changed, but this
was not Samuel’s doing. If Samuel did play a part, it was to counsel for
inaction, not action. Time was to be his ally. It was agreed that Grey’s
speech to the House the following day would make it apparent that a substantial
violation of Belgian neutrality would compel British intervention. This
concession was aimed at the likes of Lloyd George. The Chancellor had gone so
far ‘as to urge that if Germany would consent to limit her occupation of
Belgian territory to the extreme southerly part of Belgium ... he would resign
rather than make this a casus belli … ’ During the meeting
Churchill returned to the Admiralty where, at 7.06 p.m., he sent a signal to
Malta authorizing communication between Milne and Lapeyrère ‘in case Great
Britain should decide to become ally of France against Germany.’
The ‘Belgian issue’ was also to prove
extremely useful to Lloyd George. Pressed subsequently to state how far he had
pushed his opposition to British intervention, Lloyd George declared that he
‘would have resigned rather than consent to our going to war if Germany would
have agreed not to violate Belgian neutrality or if even she would have agreed
only to pass over the small projecting piece between Luxemburg and France …
’
Was this the same man who had long acknowledged that a German advance would, of
necessity, violate Belgian neutrality and who, like Asquith, had sat through the
August 1911 C.I.D. meeting?
‘Up to last Sunday’, Lloyd George declared on 4 August, ‘only two members
of the Cabinet [clearly Grey and Churchill] had been in favour of our
intervention in the War, but the violation
of Belgian territory had completely altered the situation. Apart from that
it would have been impossible to draw us into war now.’ Confusingly, however,
Lloyd George then went on to state that, ‘At the same time … we could not
have tolerated attacks on the French coasts of the Channel and had the
Government done so public opinion would have swept them out of power in a
week.’
This unconsciously confirmed the truth: that the pledge to France was the main
determinant. At one point during Sunday’s debate, Grey pleaded emotionally,
‘We have led France to rely on us, and unless we support her in her agony, I
cannot continue at the Foreign Office.’
Harcourt, looking to Lloyd George to provide a lead for the radicals, implored
the Chancellor to ‘Speak for us. Grey wishes to go to war without the
violation of Belgium.’ Lloyd George remained
quiet. As the argument continued on the question of the ‘defenceless’ coasts
of France, to which even Morley acquiesced,
Harcourt caved in. ‘I can’t refuse this’, he informed Jack Pease.
For Harcourt as well, the spectre which loomed following a Cabinet split would
be a coalition. The excuse of Belgium was
used to maintain cabinet unity and appeal to popular sentiment, but not crucial
to the actual decision to intervene. Once outside the Cabinet room that evening,
Simon, like Burns earlier in the day, recognized this and decided to resign. He
informed Asquith:
The
statement which Grey made to Cambon this afternoon, and which he does not
propose to reveal to Germany until the announcement is made in the House of
Commons tomorrow, will, I think, be regarded as tantamount to a declaration that
we take part in this quarrel with France and against Germany. I think we should
not take part, and so I must resign my post.
Clearly,
Simon took no account of the ‘Belgian issue’; he realized that the die had
been cast when Grey made the pledge to Cambon.
The
final problem for the remaining wavering members of the Cabinet, having decided
to use the ‘Belgian issue’ as a ready made excuse for intervention, was
whether Belgium would actually resist the German onslaught. The Belgians,
Churchill had warned Lloyd George in 1911, must ‘be made to defend
themselves.’
How
do we know [Churchill continued] what their secret relations with Germany are?
All their interests are with the French; but it is possible that British neglect
& German activities may have led to some subterranean understanding — for
instance, that the Germans sh[oul]d not go above the Namur-Liège line, &
that the Belgians, in consideration of this, should forbid either British or
French troops to come to their aid. This w[oul]d deprive us at once of the
Belgian army and of the strategic position on the German flank, as well as of a casus
belli wh[ich] everyone here w[oul]d understand …
Samuel
recalled that, ‘We did not know definitely what course Belgium would take. We
had to contemplate the possibilities of (a) acquiescence, (b) formal resistance,
(c) vigorous resistance. For my own part I thought (c) was probable. It is
certainly not the case that the whole Cabinet expected (a) or (b).’
Crewe also ‘expected resistance’,
while Runciman admitted that there was ‘no uniformity of view on this subject
in the Cabinet.’ Fortunately for those
Ministers who needed the excuse of Belgium, the German ultimatum for free
passage of troops, delivered that evening in Brussels, was
resisted and was coupled with an appeal by King Albert for diplomatic
intervention.
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