Countdown to War, Day 38. 4 August: German incursions in France; a fateful session of the House of Commons

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 4 August 1914, Martin and his mates would have discovered from the Manchester Guardian that the Continental Powers had taken another fatal step the day before.

Reuter’s Agency is informed by Prince Lichnowsky, the German Ambassador in London, that he is authorised by the Imperial Chancellor to state officially that all news about a German invasion of French soil is without foundation.... On the other hand, several official reports had been received about French troops crossing the German frontier...

Reuter’s Agency is requested by the French Embassy to deny officially German allegations of an alleged violation of German territory by French officers.

“The fog of war,” said Martin.

“Its first casualty,’ replied the Cynic and, when Martin looked blank, added, “the truth.”

Reuter’s further reported:

A German patrol entered French territory, and came into collision with a French force near Joncheray. The officer in command of the invaders killed one of the French soldiers, whereupon he himself was slain by one of the dead men’s comrades...

This morning a fairly strong force of German cavalry advanced towards Suarée... three kilometres from the frontier...

According to official telegrams received here... German troops advanced on Herzerange and Langlaville, in the neighbourhood of Longwy.

A welcome cup of water served by a peasant woman
to French soldiers on the march

“So what’s happening?” asked a voice.

“No one seems to know,” replied the reader, and read a quotation from a French official in an article on “the spirit of France”

”The state of Franco-German relations is unprecedented. Germany has not only violated the neutrality of Luxemburg, but has also entered French territory at two points... Yet the German Ambassador remains in Paris...”

“So – are they at war or aren’t they at war?”

“Of course they’re at war,” said the Cynic, “it doesn’t suit the Germans to admit it yet so they’ve left the Ambassador in place.”

“They’re not feeling cheerful in Vienna, apparently,” went on the reader.

Government quarters here contemplate the situation as superlatively critical...

To-day everybody seems to feel that the life of Austria-Hungary as a State may depend upon the outcome of the impending struggle, and in any case the sacrifices of blood and money which it will impose on the population far exceed anything foreseen when only Servia was pitted against the Dual Monarchy.

“Yes,” said the Cynic, “Austria-Hungary’s bitten off more than it can chew, fighting Germany’s battles with France and Russia, instead of just its own with little Serbia.”

“Italy’s staying neutral,” said Martin pensively, “so it can be done.”

“What, you’re still clinging on to that hope, are you?” asked the Cynic, “here, pass me the paper.”

The Cynic leafed through until he’d found an article headlined “A Fateful Sitting of the Commons.”

Leading members of the Liberal Government but leading hawks
David Lloyd George (left) and Winston Churchill

Rather less than two hours sufficed to-day for the essential passages of the strangest, the most moving, and in every sense of the word the most fateful sitting of Parliament within living memory...

As Ministers came to their seats those whose names had been associated with rumours of resignation were greeted with general cheering. Both Mr. Churchill and Mr. Lloyd George were thus welcomed, and it was noted that the part taken in their ovation by the Opposition was particularly marked. Some time passed before Mr. Asquith joined his colleagues. Even in cheering their careworn leader members scrutinised his grave and impassive face with eager curiosity, as if in search of some sign of hope. None was visible.

Not much to smile about
The last Liberal Prime Minister,  Herbert Asquith
He would be replaced by Lloyd George at the end of 1916

The Cynic paused. 

“Churchill and Lloyd George are the war party in government. Everyone thought they’d resign if we decided on neutrality. They haven’t so now they’re being cheered by the war party in the Commons, the Tories.”

He went on.

... Sir Edward Grey rose to take the nation into the confidence of the Cabinet...

On the surface the earlier part of his statement seemed to be a justification for neutrality or relative inaction... in commenting on the obligations in honour by which France was tied to Russia in the war, Sir Edward Grey frankly admitted that such obligations could not apply in the same way to this country... Even so, our long-standing friendship with France – “And with Germany,” interjected a Liberal member – had led to arrangements which, in Sir Edward’s opinion, involved us in certain responsibilities.

Of those, the heaviest turned out to be the undefended condition of the northern and western coasts of France, due to the withdrawal of the French fleet to the Mediterranean. Here a hypothetical case was presented – the possible event of an attack on those coasts by the German fleet and of ourselves looking on as dispassionate spectators. With greater energy than he had hitherto shown, Sir Edward, raising his voice and speaking with unusual emphasis, utterly dismissed the latter hypothesis and declared that in such an event we could not possibly stand aside. Amid the general cheering evoked by this declaration the Nationalists made their voices unmistakably heard. “Hurrah for France!” shouted Mr. William Redmond...

“William Redmond?” asked Martin.

“Brother of John,” explained the Cynic, “also an MP. What? You thought the Irish were above dynastic politics? Just because they want to be rid of us doesn’t make them any better. You watch: Ireland will have just the same kind of trotters in the trough behaviour as anywhere else, in or out of the United Kingdom.”

“And now they want us in this war...” said Martin.

“It’s all going to come down to Belgium,” went on the Cynic.

... there was the more serious question of the invasion of Belgian territory – a question, as the Minister showed, which earlier in the crisis had been the subject of unsatisfactory diplomatic negotiations...

“Didn’t anybody speak out against?” asked Martin.

“Of course they did. Your mate for one,” answered the Cynic and went on reading.

Some impatience was shown while Mr. Ramsay MacDonald, in his firm yet temperate manner, was giving voice to the determination of the Labour party to have no part in a policy of war...

“Well, at least we can count on Labour,” sighed Martin, “one party that’ll never take this country to war against the will of its people.”

“Probably best never to use the word never, young man,” said the Cynic.

...the House listened in sombre stillness to speech after speech from the Liberal benches, all, with scarcely an exception, severely critical of the Foreign Minister’s arguments and actions.

“A Liberal government has lost the support of Liberal MPs,” said Martin sadly.

“And has to rely on the Tory Opposition to take us into war.”

The Cynic held up the paper to show another headline:

GREAT BRITAIN TO MOBILISE

War Office announce the intended proclamation.

“We’re mobilising already,” he said, “how long can it be?”

“It’s already happening,” said a young man who’d just walked in, “it’s on the telegraph back at the station.”

“What do you mean?” asked Martin.

“The authorities are taking control of the railways. We work for the government now.”

There was a shocked silence broken by the Cynic laughing.

“So now our jobs will be to keep the cannon fodder moving round the country. Until we become cannon fodder ourselves.”

Countdown to War, Day 33. 30 July: the war has started, but surely the people, and above all the socialist people, can stop it spreading

One hundred years ago today, on Thursday 30 July 1914, Martin’s crew found that the Manchester Guardian included the Austrian Emperor’s Appeal to his people. Or rather peoples, since the Empire included so many ethnicities: Germans, Hungarians, Italians and a whole slew of different types of Slavs.

The original assassination took place in Bosnia.
Here Bosnian troops are inspected by Austrian Archduke Eugen

It was my fervent wish to consecrate the years which by the grace of God still remain to me to the works of peace and to protect my peoples from the heavy sacrifices and burdens of war. Providence in its wisdom has otherwise decreed. The intrigues of a malevolent opponent compel me... to grasp the sword after long years of peace... an end must be put to incessant provocations of Servia... I must, therefore, proceed by force of arms...

Gloomy reading.

“At least it doesn’t affect us,” said a voice.

“It will,” said the Cynic.

“I don’t see why,” said the man holding the paper, and read from a leader article:

We wish Servia no ill; we are anxious for the peace of Europe. But Englishmen are not the guardians of Servian well-being, or even of the peace of Europe... We ought to feel ourselves out of danger, for, whichever way the quarrel between Austria and Servia were settled, it would not make a scrap of difference to England...

That all seemed clear enough. Unfortunately, the article didn’t end there.

But, though our neutrality ought to be assured, it is not. Mr. Asquith speaks with a brevity natural, perhaps, if we were directly concerned, but quite unnatural if it were certain, as it ought to be, that we should not be involved. Sir Edward Grey walks deliberately past opportunities of saying that we are and will be neutral in the quarrels of Europe... This official reticence is in contrast with unofficial garrulity. The “Times,” whose influence at great crises in our foreign affairs has almost always been for evil, yesterday took it for granted that if the war were not localised this country ought to take the side of Servia and Russia. It exhorts us to patch up our difficulties about Home Rule in Ireland in order that we may the better be able to see fair-play between Austria and Servia. Who made us the arbiters of “fair play” between Austria and Servia, and what conceivable interest have we in subordinating any British interest whatever to so gratuitous a task? Having sacrificed Ireland to Servia, the “Times” wants us to sacrifice England to Russia’s eccentric notions of what is in the interests of her people.

“See?” said the Cynic, “they’re going to take us in.”

“I wish they’d stop talking about England,” interjected the lone Scotsman in Martin’s crew, “they’ll send us along with you lot if they do go in.”

“Hold on, hold on,” said the reader, “hear what they say.”

How could we serve [the balance of power in Europe] better by throwing our influence on the side of Russia rather than on the side of Germany? Why strengthen the hand which is already beating us in Persia, and which, if it triumphed over Germany, would presently be felt in Afghanistan and on our frontiers in India? Why should the Slav be so much dearer to us than the Teuton that we should tax the necessaries of the poor to famine prices and the income of the rich to extinction? For that is what our participation in a great European war must mean to England.

“See? See? It makes no sense. We’ve no reason to prefer one lot to the other. So we’ll choose neither. Help make peace if we can, keep out of the way if we can’t.”

“You all need to learn to listen to the silences of politicians,” said the Cynic, “if they’re keeping quiet on something, you can sure they’re about to spring it on you.”
“Personally,” said the man who’d always been uncomplimentary about the French, “I’d rather have the Germans alongside us than the Frogs.”

Why indeed the French rather than the Germans, Martin wondered? Why in particular the Russians? Why were we so keen on them? Weren’t they making the trouble far worse?

Everyone professes to be anxious to “localise” the war. But only one Power can do it, namely Russia. If Russia attacks Austria, Germany is bound by treaty to join in defence of Austria; if Germany fights, France is bound to do the same...

The paper was right. It would be up to Russia to turn the war into a continent-wide conflict. If they did that, why should Britain support them?

Anyway, the general conflict hadn’t started yet, and the people were against it. Another article from Berlin reported on several tens of thousands of Socialists who had attended meetings and then paraded in the streets of the city chanting “Down with War!” These were the brother organisations of Martin’s own Labour Party.

Once more he was proud of the movement he belonged to. Socialism was by its nature international. It would lead the people, across nations, to uphold their rights and foremost among them, the right to life unthreatened by war. With so many demanding neutrality, what government could resist? If the people stood firm, Ministers could hardly ignore them.

But a small news item gave a different view.

Natives of Austria and Hungary resident in Manchester who are liable for service with the Austrian army have already, to the number of about 250, reported themselves at the offices of the Austro-Hungarian Consul...

They were signing up for the fighting? His spirits, briefly raised at the idea of Socialist and popular opposition to the war, sank again. If the people themselves were the accomplices of their own downfall, how could anyone prevent it?

Countdown to War, Day 31. 28 July: hovering on the edge

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 28 July 1914, Martin the Mancunian railwayman might have taken some hope from the first article he and his fellow tracklayers read in the Manchester Guardian.

Europe’s hopes of avoiding a great war over the Austro-Servian dispute rose yesterday. Fighting had not begun, although soldiers of the confronting States fired at one another on the Danube, and every day’s delay multiplies the chance of successful mediation by the other Powers.

Sir Edward Grey, in the House of Commons yesterday, said he had instructed the British Ambassadors at Paris, Berlin, and Rome to ask the Governments if they would be willing to arrange for their Ambassadors in London to meet him to endeavour to find an arrangement of the present difficulties. He had not yet received complete replies. The cooperation of the four Powers was essential. The efforts of one Power alone to preserve peace must be quite ineffective.

The four Powers not directly involved might be able to persuade Russia and Austria to hold back from actual military operations.

Austria was disdainful of Serbia’s reply to its Note, but:

Otherwise the news fromVienna also suggests a brighter prospect. Austria apparently is not disinclined to a peaceful issue.

It seemed that France and Germany were working well together, and agreed that the key was to obtain a compromise in St Petersburg and Vienna. For the first time since the 24th, when he’d read about the harshness of the terms in Austria’s note to Serbia, Martin felt that there was a real hope that war might be averted altogether. Not just war spilling over into other countries, but any kind of war at all, even between Austria-Hungary and Serbia.

The Guardian leader writer was unequivocal on the subject.

We want peace in Europe, but we want England to be and remain at peace even more. We wish that all Englishmen would think and say the same. Most of them certainly do. But there are some who, while anxious for European peace, still think that if we cannot share the blessings of peace with others we must share with them the curses of war.

It was true, Martin agreed, that there would always be warmongers, keen on involvement in war. But there must be a massive majority against it in Britain today, as the paper seemed to imply. No government could possibly resist such a huge groundswell of opinion and take us into war despite of it. Could it? Surely not.

An excellent point had been made by a Labour MP, John Robert Clynes, at a public meeting in Manchester. He was:

...profoundly sorry for the absence of a properly constituted court before which quarrelling nations could be required to bring their case, just as quarrelling individuals were required to bring theirs before a court of justice. It was astonishing in these days of a so-called high civilisation that the act of a fanatic or a fool should bring nations to such a state of disturbance as was evident now throughout Europe.

“That’s true,” said Martin, “those murders in Sarajevo were terrible, but I thought they’d just lead to police action. You know, arrests, a trial, a bit of a show of punishing the guilty. But a whole Continent thinking about war? It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s because you keep leaving Great Power politics out of the picture,” replied the Cynic, “Russia and France have got a reckoning to settle with Germany. Germany’s got grievances to resolve with everyone else. No one gives a damn about the Sarajevo business. But they need a pretext, and it provides one.”

At the time of the first ever Labour government in 1924
Jimmy Thomas, Ramsay MacDonald, John Robert Clynes and Arthur Henderson 

“Well, I’m proud of the Labour Party,” Martin retorted, nettled. “At least it’s got its head screwed on. The Tories are nowhere. Maybe Labour can be the real Opposition to the Liberals. Opposition on the Left – that’d be good, wouldn’t it? It’d make Britain a different kind of place to live.”

“Yes, maybe. I shouldn’t get your hopes up, though. When people get into government, they become the government, and they behave like the government. Whichever party they come from.”

Martin shook his head. And turned to the news that Lancashire had secured a convincing victory over Gloucestershire. Much needed and all the more satisfactory for that.

Some good news, then, on a mixed news day.

Countdown to War, Day 28. 25 July: Austria-Hungary pressurises Serbia; Alliance and Entente manoeuvre

One hundred years ago today, on Saturday 25 July 1914, the Manchester Guardian would have added further fuel to the fears the previous day had woken in Martin, our young railwayman. 

A leader, baldly headlined “The European Crisis” considered Austria-Hungary's demands of Serbia, contained in its Diplomatic Note:

The Austrian Note to Servia is very stiff in its terms, but would not any country be angry which believed that the heir to its throne had been assassinated by a conspiracy of army officers in a neighbouring country and in furtherance of a design to detach one of its provinces from its allegiance?

The leader writer set out to take a balanced of the two states, pointing out that:

The strictly correct course for Austria would have been to send copies of the depositions of the Sarayevo inquiry to Belgrade, to ask the Government to try and punish the incriminated officials in accordance with her law, and, further, to take steps to fulfil the promises [of good neighbourliness it had made in 1909]. She has not asked her to inquire into and punish the offences of her subjects, but to apologise at once and inquire afterwards.

For these reasons, Serbia had a right to be aggrieved, and say so. But:

On all other grounds Servia would be well advised, on political grounds, not to press the legal objections to Austria’s Note, but to promise once more to be a good neighbour, to take the necessary disciplinary steps, to express regret for any unlawful actions of her subjects, and to undertake to try all officers and civil servants against whom Austria makes out a prima facie case.

So far so good, even if it was all a bit pious, a bit too much like wishful thinking. Concessions by Serbia might save the peace, but would she make them? Would Austria-Hungary accept them as sufficient if they were offered?

“Don’t be silly,” said the Cynic, “Austria-Hungary wants war. King Peter could crawl on his belly to Vienna and still they’d want war.”

“But why?” asked one of the other railwaymen, the very question Martin wanted answered, “Why would anyone want war for something they could get without one?”

“Because their little mates in Berlin are calling the shots. And the Germans want to tempt the Russians to over-reach so they can stitch ’em up. And the French.”

Franz Joseph I of Austria-Hungary with Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany
Who really holds the reins? Who's leading the way?

The very next words in the article seemed to confirm his view.

We deeply regret that Russia has decided to encourage Servia in resistance to Austria.

Russia? He’d already felt a couple of times over the last week that Russia’s name was cropping up in the news a little too often, in contexts where, it seemed to him, nothing was happening that was in any sense their business. Now it looked as though the Tsar was indeed testing his reach. And what made that most worrying was all the talk of that Dual Alliance Russia had with France which might involve her in any conflict and, as a result of her Entente with both powers, Britain too.

The leader writer concluded on just that point.

Our Ambassador in St Petersburg seems to have been consulted by the Russian Government in the course of yesterday. But we hope that he gave no sort of encouragement to Russian policy, and in any case it will be [Foreign Secretary] Sir Edward Grey’s task not to destroy our influence for good in Europe by marching us into the camp of the Dual Alliance, or for that matter into any camp.

President Poincaré of France with Tsar Nicholas II of Russia
Would they expect Britain to join them if it came to war?

“Good God, no,” said Martin, “None of this has anything to do with Britain. Why would we get involved? I’m sorry that the Archduke and his wife were murdered, but it isn’t our quarrel. What do we need to do except send condolences?”

“Wait and see,” said the Cynic.

Meanwhile, in other areas business continued as usual. 

A cargo of arms had been intercepted off Queenstown, the port of Dublin. 

As war loomed, Manchester was planning to celebrate peace and had set up a special committee to organise festivities for the centenary of peace between Britain and America. A good antidote to all the sabre rattling on the Continent.

And Middlesex had lost its first match of the entire season. Now that was a turn up for the books. Not that it was likely to do much good for Lancashire, which had made a bad start against Yorkshire in “some dull cricket” in Hull.

Finally, it seemed that “the second annual open tournament in connection with Bowden Croquet Club, which has proved highly successful, concludes to-day.”

Really? Were there people genuinely interested in that kind of stuff, he wondered? With war on the horizon and Lancashire doing so badly in the County Championship?

Countdown to War, Day 21. 18 July: What's Russia sticking its oar in for? And why's Germany sounding hostile?

One hundred years ago today, on Saturday 18 July 1914, Martin and the other railwaymen in his crew would have opened their Manchester Guardian to read that a movement was gaining steam to reducing the working week for city corporation workers to 48 hours. A meeting had been held, at which:

...the chair was taken by Councillor Davy, who spoke of the work that had always been done by the Labour group in the City Council in advocating the eight-hour day.

An eight-hour day and a six-day week? Everyone in the tracklayer gang agreed in wishing them luck. Who wouldn’t want the working week to be that short?

More generally, most of the news was gloomy. In Ireland, a new organisation rejoicing in the name “Sinn Fein” claimed to have come across a document circulated to police chiefs by the Chief Secretary for Ireland, Augustine Birrell.

Augustine Birrell
Cartoon by "Spy" for Vanity Fair

Sinn Fein quoted Birrell’s document:

When preparing your monthly confidential report, for the present please give a concise report in paragraph 1 of the development of the Irish Volunteer force in your county...

Class of persons who are joining.

Is the force now supported by all sections of Nationalists? ... Is it supported by the Roman Catholic clergy? ...

[On the Protestant Ulster Volunteers] The state of party feeling, and whether any change for the better or worse is noticeable.

Is anything known definitely with regard to the proposed establishment of the Provisional Government?

Still, Martin and his friends had become used to Ireland as the source of bad news that never went away. More worrying were reports from the Continent, starting with one from Vienna:

The “Neue Freie Presse” learns with reference to the present tension between Austria and Servia, due to the Bosnian murders, that the Russian Government hopes the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy will not make demands threatening the national independence of Servia, but is willing, in the interests of peace, to support the demands of Austria-Hungary in Belgrade if they are moderate.

The Russians? What were they sticking their noses in for? It was bad enough that there was “tension” between Austria and Serbia without someone else getting stuck in. And he didn’t like talk of “the interests of peace”. Why was anyone saying they were suddenly at risk?

It seemed that Russia also had a “use for England”. Another article revealed that the German newspaper, the Berliner Tageblatt had reported on rumours of an Anglo-Russian naval agreement. And just at the time, as the Guardian had reported before, that Britain was conducting its biggest ever naval review. The German editor seemed to be quite a cynic:

”Certainly,” he says, “the existence of negotiations over a naval agreement between England and Russia have been denied. Not indeed by Sir Edward Grey [the Foreign Secretary], who chose his words wisely, and stated with perfect truth that there were no negotiations for an alliance. It was the ‘Westminster Gazette’ which denied fully and completely all that had been said on the authority of an absolutely reliable and exactly informed Paris source.

What sort of source is absolutely reliable? A spy?

The German paper was convinced the French, allies of Russia and in their Entente Cordiale with Britain, were involved.

No sensible person in Germany will say that the Entente presents an insurmountable obstacle to better Anglo-German relations... [but] it is just because English statesmen and a very large part of the English people have within the last few months shown with undeniable openness of feeling how valuable to them a good and friendly relationship between the English and German nation appears, that those in Germany who have the same desire ... must express their fears when these friendly wishes ... are undermined from a third side with clever measures and proposals.

Poincaré on his visit to Russia
With Tsar Nicholas II on the imperial yacht Alexandria

It seemed that the French President Raymond Poincaré, who was then on a visit to Russia, would be acting as an intermediary in the supposed negotiations with Britain. Would that undermine relations with Germany?

Certainly those ties were close at the moment. It was with a lighter heart that Martin read out another piece.

The “London Gazette” last night contained the announcement that the King has ordained that the children born to their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Brunswick and Luneburg shall at all times hold and enjoy the style and attribute of “highness,” with their titular dignity of prince or princess prefixed to their respective Christian names... and that the designation of the children shall be “a prince (or princess) of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.”

“Good thing,” one of Martin’s mates pointed out, “we have to keep the traditions going.”

Martin smiled.

“Good thing,” said another, “I’d rather keep them Germans on our side if things do turn nasty. Bloody good soldiers. And I never did trust the Frogs.”

Martin’s smile faded as he looked at him in some surprise. Solders? Things turning nasty? It was no more than he’d been thinking these last couple of days, but it somehow hurt to have it said out loud.

Countdown to War, day 14. 11 July: why spend on the army when we're at peace? And there's that business about the Austrian Archduke again...

One hundred years ago today, on Saturday 11 July 1914, our young Mancunian railwayman might well have felt his worries of the day before justified by that morning’s edition of the Manchester Guardian. It seemed that Parliament too was concerned about the burden of constantly spending huge amounts on armaments.

Not many in Parliament, though. “From ten to twenty members sat through to-day’s debate on foreign affairs...” he read. “As the general talk went on the attendance became smaller and smaller, for on such occasions it is the habit of members only to wait to read their own speeches. Little pretence is made of debating any particular question.”

“MPs, they’ve got their legal practices to look after.” said the Cynic, “Their banks. Their families. Can’t expect them to spend all their time in Parliament. Specially if it’s to listen to other people.” 

At least the select band who showed up did consider the question that had been bothering Martin: why spend heavily on weapons at a time when war was such a distant prospect? Sir Edward Grey, the Foreign Secretary, attempted an answer.

Why armaments should be so steadily increasing, despite the present conditions of mutual amity among the Powers, the Minister could not explain. “But it should be observed,” he added, “that the most notable increase in recent years has not been in naval but in military expenditure, and for that part of the increase this country is not responsible.” Speaking with a sarcasm which Mr. Dillon afterwards deprecated as out of place, Sir Edward ... contrasted the suggestions pressed on the Government for a disarmament crusade with the demands with which they were confronted at the same time for a greater display of activity in their foreign relations, particularly in Persia and the Middle East, and even in respect to the internal government of Russia.

The British Army:
why spend so much on it when there's no prospect of war?

Andrew Bonar Law, leader of the Conservative Party and the Opposition pointed to another great trouble spot of the time, much closer to home:

Here is the House of Commons lecturing the Foreign Secretary on the duty of keeping the peace throughout the world, although we all know that it is his duty and that of others to keep the peace within our own borders.

“That means Ireland,” said the Cynic, “they think of Ireland as within our borders. They can’t cope with the idea that it might be a different country.”

“It isn’t,” replied another railwayman, “Just an unruly part of this one.”

Certainly, it was proving as difficult as ever to keep the peace in Ireland. The paper talked of a meeting of the “Provisional Government” of Ulster. The best that could be said of it was that it had turned out to be a damp squib. It seemed that the:

... portentous announcement of the day before that “something serious” would be done at the meeting of the Ulster “Provisional Government” in Belfast yesterday was falsified by the result. The meeting was held, and Sir Edward Carson presided over it, but, according to the official report, nothing was done at all but to pass a declaration reaffirming the familiar attitude of the Ulster Unionists towards Home Rule.

Martin was thankful the outcome had been such an anti-climax, but where else, he wondered, could a rebel organisation operate under the leadership of a prominent lawyer and member of Parliament, and the government take no action? 

Another story was turning into a recurring theme: “General Huerta’s tottering Government in Mexico has suffered another heavy blow...” Rebels had just captured the country’s second city. No sign of things settling there, then.

Back in the news after all:
the Archducal couple head for the car in which they will be murdered

An apparently closed chapter had also re-opened:

Europe has not heard the last of the Sarajevo outrage. Articles in the Vienna press are preparing the way for official Austro-Hungarian representations to Servia. Any attempt to make the Belgrade Government responsible for the Greater Servia agitation, to which the Archduke Francis Ferdinand fell a victim, is certain to anger further the Serbs, already violently excited. Signs are multiplying that the assassination has seriously increased the many grave dangers to the peace of Eastern Europe.

The “Neue Freie Presse” observes that the pan-Servian murder had aroused the conscience of Europe, not only of its peoples, but also of its Governments. The journal refers to the moral isolation of the pan-Servian movement, and points out that the whole German people stands by the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy. It believes that Austria-Hungary’s ally Italy also shares the feeling of the German Empire...

England, proceeds the article, will most certainly use her great influence in order to bring Servia to her senses and secure the European outlawing of pan-Servdom. Great Britain is never found wanting when she hears the voice of justice. France and Russia can scarcely wish to separate themselves from England in these views.

He tended to sympathise with underdogs, and Serbia certainly seemed an underdog, but that assassination had been a shameful crime. And it was true that Britain was as sorry as anyone about what had happened – why, the same issue of the paper told him that even in Salford, right here on his doorstep in Manchester, there’d been a Requiem mass for the murdered Archduke and his wife the previous day. But – “Grave dangers to peace”? He didn’t like that kind of talk. Surely there was no need for things to come to that?

In more cheerful news, Lancashire had secured a famous victory over Leicestershire. No major scalp, since Leicestershire was one of the minnows of 1914’s Championship. But then, Lancashire too might be one of the smaller fish that year. He’d take what satisfaction he could from any victory.

Countdown to War, Day 10. 7 July: trouble again in Mexico, as ever in Ireland, stirred up by an army figure in England

One hundred years ago today, on Tuesday 7 July 1914, Martin our Mancunian railwayman discovered that problems didn’t always go away, not even when they’d apparently been solved. The troubles in Mexico had seemed over, but here they were, back again with redoubled intensity. 

“BRITISH VICE CONSUL ARRESTED IN MEXICO.” proclaimed the headline. The British and US authorities were trying to help “Mr. Albert St. Clair Douglas, the British Vice Consul at Zacatecas, who has been arrested by the Constitutionalists on the vague charge of ‘complicity with the Federals’.”

There was fear in Britain that Douglas might share “the fear of Mr. Benton, who was murdered by [Pancho] Villa on a trumped-up charge” so the government had been seeking, and had obtained, “assurances that Mr. Douglas will be treated with every consideration”, but clearly the situation was far from under control.

Pancho Villa: figure of legend
But apparently not good for the health of British consular officials

In the House of Commons, meanwhile, normal business seemed to have been suspended the previous day in deference to the death of Joseph Chamberlain. Herbert Asquith, the Prime Minister, Arthur Balfour, former Prime Minister and previous leader of the Conservative Party, and Andrew Bonar Law, the current leader, had all paid tributes, describing Chamberlain respectively as “the pioneer of a new generation, a builder of Empire, and ‘a great statesman, a great orator, a great friend, and a great idealist’.”

The Lords were less effusive, moving straight from their own tributes to resumed conflict, inevitably over Ireland and the Home Rule measures. Field Marshal Lord Roberts, one of Britain’s most senior military men, gave the House “a quite irrelevant yet extremely interesting deliverance, in which the excuses so ingeniously elaborated by apologists for the heroes of the Curragh incident were almost contemptuously swept aside”. The Curragh was the main base of the British Army in Ireland and, less than three months earlier, officers there had made it clear that they would resign rather than act against the Ulster Volunteers, who were arming to resist Home Rule.

As Lord Roberts pointed out, “it was obvious that when those officers made the choice they did they showed to the whole world that a considerable part of the Army would not undertake operations against Ulster.” It seems that they had been following the dictates of conscience, as Roberts had foretold.

The Manchester Guardian continued:

While the distinguished Field Marshal was thus expounding the doctrine of optional obedience and enforcing it by again predicting without a word of disapproval that in certain circumstances Ulster would “break and ruin the army,” he had as auditors in front of the throne the Attorney General, Mr. Churchill, and Sir Edward Carson. Like everybody else those visitors showed themselves profoundly interested in the convenient theory that since this was no mere political crisis but “a clash of principles which raises the subject far beyond the realm of ordinary politics,” therefore it must be a calumny to suggest that the Army had any political bias, still more to accuse its officers of being engaged in a conspiracy with either one set of politicians or another.

“Very interesting,” said the Cynic. “Does the ‘doctrine of optional obedience’ apply to working men too? Would Mr Winston Churchill kindly indulge us as well? When he was Home Secretary, he didn’t show much kindness to strikers, did he? And does he take the same attitude to sailors in the Navy, how he’s First Sea Lord.”

Even so, it hadn’t all been bad news the day before. Although the county cricket side, Lancashire, had suffered humiliating punishment at the hands of Surrey, at least the city team had notched up a victory, when Manchester ignominiously trounced Southport, from further up the coast.

A small mercy in the general stream of things. But better than nothing.

Countdown to War. Day 4, 1 July: so there weren't just Serbs in Bosnia. Who would have guessed?

One hundred years ago today, Wednesday 1 July 1914, our young Mancunian railwayman and his friends, leafing through their Manchester Guardian, would have read that the bodies of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife Sophie, brought to the coast from Sarajevo, had been picked up by a battleship of the Austrian navy.
“Austria has a navy?” Martin might have asked. “How does a country without a coastline get an Empire that stretches to the sea?”

Inland, the assassinations had sparked trouble:

Violent demonstrations have been made in many parts of Bosnia by Catholics and Moslems against the Orthodox Serbs. Many shops and houses have been looted and several persons injured. The disorders, in part no doubt genuine proofs of devotion to the Hapsburgs [the imperial family], would be more important than they are were they not largely due to an old political animosity.

Curious. So there were three communities in Bosnia, not just the Serbs. And they didn’t like each other very much. Nor were the problems limited to Bosnia: in the Diet (parliament) of the Austrian province of Croatia, “an angry quarrel between the Croatian Nationalists and the Croat-Servian coalition caused a suspension of the sitting.”

More internal dissension, then. 

That chap, Princip, the student who shot the Archduke and his wife, was a Serb nationalist, but in the province next door it seemed there were Croats who were just as nationalist in their own cause. Always a recipe for trouble, that kind of thing. Bosnia, Serbia, Croatia were none of his business, of course, but he couldn’t help feeling it would be a good idea to sort out those tensions before they became really nasty.

Sir Edward Grey, Foreign Secretary
He had plenty on his plate.
Long before Martin or his mates knew it

In another piece, the Manchester Guardian turned its attention to Sir Edward Grey, the British Foreign Secretary. Not in connection with Austria or Serbia, but with the other end of the Balkans altogether, where Turks and Greeks were being thoroughly vile to each other, and leaving a trail of bodies behind them. Challenged by his critics, Grey had one of his officials reply:

...as regards your proposal that his Majesty’s Government should suggest to the Greek and Turkish Governments their acceptance of an international commission to regulate the reciprocal emigration of their Christian and Moslem subjects, and the adjustment of losses thereby incurred, I am to state that Sir E. Grey considers that these objects should be attainable by the Turco-Greek Commission already designed for the purpose and, further, it is his experience that offers of mediation are seldom acceptable to Powers at variance unless they can be made at the desire of both of them.

Yes. If there was too much bad blood between them for the parties to agree among themselves, mediation was never going to work. The idea of swapping populations, on the other hand, was a good one. It made no sense to have Christians living in Muslim countries or Muslims in Christendom. The faiths weren’t designed to get on with each other.

How could there ever be peace between them?