Countdown to War, Day 32. 29 July: War. But Britain can stay out. And we're still torturing women.

One hundred years ago today, on Wednesday 29 July 1914, there was really only one news item Martin and his friends had to absorb: war had started.

The group of railwaymen would have discovered from the Manchester Guardian that Austria-Hungary had taken the fatal step the day before, a month to the day since the Sarajevo murders, and declared war on Serbia.

There was still a possibility that war could be contained to just those two nations. But no one was taking any chances. Not even the British. The First Fleet, still assembled at Weymouth and Portland, had given its men some leave. But then at 8:00 all leave had been cancelled.

The masters-at-arms of the various ships were sent to both Weymouth and Portland for the purpose of recalling the men to their ships, and the assistance of the police was also sought in searching all places of amusement and all haunts of the sailors to acquaint them with order.

It wasn’t like him, but the Cynic smiled.

“Can’t you just picture the scene?” he asked, “In those ‘places of amusement’? Not hard to guess what what the sailors thought of their leave being cancelled. No wonder they needed the local bobbies with them.”

The might of the Royal Navy,  protecting Britain's shores
But was it time for an army too?

Not everyone felt Britain should rely so entirely on the navy, anyway. Take Field Marshall Lord Roberts, a star of the British military scene and a champion of introducing conscription in Britain.

“That old fart?” the cynic exclaimed, “made his name beating up the Boers. Now he’s become the king of the bores. No worse windbag than a retired general.”

Well, retired general and windbag he might be, but what he was saying wasn’t all nonsense.

He believed we had the best ships and the finest seamen in the world, but as regarded modern sea fighting we were in a state of transition and of inexperience, and ... it would be the height of madness to trust the defence of these shores to the navy alone...

Is it not in consequence of our not feeling absolutely certain of naval supremacy that we have been compelled to seek foreign alliances of ententes, which have drawn us more intimately than we perhaps like to to admit into the minor issues of world politics...?

“Damn right,” said another of Martin’s mates, “we need to keep our distance from Europe. Britain for the British I say.”

Martin wasn’t so sure about that – we needed allies on the Continent because we had enemies there, though he wasn’t still quite sure which were which. But he was interested in what Roberts had to say about the need for an army to defend the country, and not just a navy, and concerned at the idea that it wasn’t “at the present time in a condition to carry out the duties for which it was intended and which it may at any moment be called upon to perform.”

Well, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But it would be useful to have it there, just in case. Though maybe a few alliances wouldn’t be such a bad plan either, even if they did have to be on the Continent.

Certainly, it was best to be prepared. Especially now that war was under way. Though that was apparently not quite as grim as one might have thought:

Austria has declared war on Servia. It was expected, and the invasion of Servia is just as likely to improve as to worsen the relations between the Great Powers. If, as they say, Austria is chiefly anxious to humiliate Servia publicly, and seeks no territory, the occupation of is capital ought to satisfy her, and fortunately Belgrade lies just over the River Danube, and its occupation ought not to give much trouble.

The question is what Russia’s reaction might be. So far, it had been limited:

... to partial mobilisation against Austria and to the threat... of complete mobilisation if Belgrade is occupied.

The worry had to be that the paper’s suggestion of what might satisfy Austria, the occupation of Belgrade, could trigger the reaction from Russia everyone most feared. Meanwhile, the Germans had turned down Sir Edward Grey’s suggestion of a mediation conference.

What was most frightening was the sheer scale of the forces in play. The paper asked what would happen if Russia went to war: “what is her military strength?”

[The Russian Army] is the most gigantic military machine in the world, and no one really knows its fighting value. On its peace strength it disposes of a million of men between the German and Austrian frontiers in Europe and the seaboard of Vladivostock in Manchuria. If mobilised in its entirety it would quadruple the astounding numbers of its peace strength... The European army corps of Russia from the point of view of numbers are considerable enough to give pause to both Germany and Austria if their efficiency is equal to their ponderous numbers.

Unfortunately, the efficiency of that army is far from proved, something the “war correspondent” who wrote the article put down to the “Slav mind” and “congenital” issues.

The main asset of the Russian Army is “Ivan Ivanoff,” the Russian soldier. Unimaginative, uneducated, docile by the circumstances of his lot, he is the best material for the manufacture of the soldier that has to die in heaps in the world.

Officers of the Russian Tsar
An army impressive in its numbers, but how about its military value?

Dying in heaps. Martin was far from unimaginative but he couldn’t imagine anything particularly attractive about that picture. If that was what the Russian Army was good at, then a war precipitated by the Tsar was one to avoid at practically any cost. He hoped the government was clear on that point.

Oddly enough, ordinary life still went on despite these momentous events abroad. There was a brutal reminder:

The Church League for Women’s Suffrage, of which the Bishop of Lincoln is president, has addressed a letter to the Home Secretary protesting against forcible feeding.

So women were still demanding the right to vote. And why not? Having the vote would at least allow one to vote against war. Meanwhile, the government was still torturing them. And why would they stop? Martin was sure that it was as hard to break with violence as with anything else, once it had become a habit.

Countdown to War, Day 30. 27 July: well, it may be war. But it doesn't have to involve us.

One hundred years ago today, on Monday 27 July 1914, the Manchester Guardian carried a story of particular interest to Martin’s gang of railwaymen: “A party of about forty men from the railway works at Ashford, Kent, travelled to London on Saturday to lay before the Prime Minister their views on women’s suffrage and to protest against the treatment of women.”

Interesting. Railwaymen like them. Railwaymen. If they could see the merit of the suffragettes’ cause, perhaps it was time Martin embraced it too.

Prime Minister Herbert Asquith
Unavailable to see railwaymen campaigning for Women's Votes

Not that the deputation had got far: Asquith had been out of town and they’d only seen his private secretary. 

Almost more shocking because it had become so banal, another headline announced bad news from Ireland: “TROOPS FIRE ON DUBLIN CROWD”. 

A serious conflict between soldiers and police on the one side and National Volunteers on the other took place in Dublin yesterday... Later on, as the troops were returning to barracks, they were stoned by a crowd upon which they were ordered to fire, with the result that four persons were killed and about forty were wounded, ten seriously.

The conflict followed a successful attempt by the Volunteers to land 3,000 rifles and a large quantity of ammunition.

John Redmond of the Irish Nationalist Party
presenting a flag to Volunteers

Sometimes it seemed that Civil War wasn’t threatening in Ireland, it had already started. What had the paper been saying the other day? Britain could hardly afford to get embroiled in a Continental conflict – it had more than enough to occupy it right on its doorstep.

If Britain wasn’t careful, there was plenty to embroil it, however. It seemed that the world was “on the brink of a Great War” only to be avoided by the “last attempts to preserve European peace.”

Austria and Servia hesitate on the brink of war. Hope that they will compose their differences without an appeal to arms is vanishing, and if war comes Russia is only too likely soon to be involved. Both Germany and Italy, whose treaties with Austria expose them to immediate dangers, look to Great Britain to procure a peaceful settlement. ... The First Fleet of the Royal Navy, concentrated at Portland, has been ordered not to disperse.

The Royal Navy, the most powerful in the world, wasn’t sending its ships home after the Fleet review. It was as though Britain felt it might soon need the defence it offered.

The world's most powerful navy assembles in review

Meanwhile, Serbia apparently believed that it had met all of Austria-Hungary’s demands bar one. 

A declaration, prepared in Vienna, condemning the pan-Serb propaganda would be published and communicated to the army, officers involved in the agitation would be dismissed, anti-Austrian societies would be suppressed, the press law altered, but Austrian delegates would not be admitted to an exercise of authority in Servia.

Austria however wasn’t prepared to accept that as sufficient.

A late Vienna message says if Servia wishes for peace now she will have to grant all the original demands and also find the money for Austria’s military preparations.

Serbia had mobilised its forces, the government had moved out of Belgrade which was too close to the border. And the worst news:

The Tsar and Imperial Council have discussed the situation, the cities and governments of Moscow and St. Petersburg have been placed under modified martial law... and mobilisation is to be proceeded with at once.

Just as the papers had been saying. A slide towards war, with Russia now getting ready to join in.

in this weird state of affairs, a particularly odd development was that even before the fighting started, there was already a prisoner of war.

General Putnik, Chief of the Servian General Staff, was yesterday arrested at Budapest while hurrying back to his post from a holiday resort in the Austrian Alps.

Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At least Martin himself was in the right place. The leader article was dedicated to “a terrible danger”.

Last week Russia threatened war on Austria unless she did certain things that she has since refused to do. Should Russia carry out her threats and attack Austria, Germany will be compelled by the terms of her alliance with Austria to go to her assistance, and if the two members of the Triple Alliance are at war with Russia it is doubtful whether France could, even if she would, remain neutral.The European war which has been talked about for so long that no one really believed that it would ever come is nearer embodiment than any of us can remember. The responsibility is a terrible one, even for England, which has no direct interest in the quarrel between Austria and Servia, and is in no danger of being dragged into the conflict by treaties of alliance.

Those were perhaps not the most heroic words for a proud Briton to read, but Martin couldn’t deny he found them comforting. Politicians and commentators seemed agreed: Britain’s role must be to mediate and to work for peace, and nothing more. The paper quoted Sir John Simon, Attorney General: “Let us all resolve that ... the part which this country plays shall from the beginning to end be the part of a mediator, singly desirous of promoting better and more peaceful relations.”

“Well, I can drink to that. Peacemakers not warmakers. Sounds good me,” said Martin.

The Cynic, who that day was reading out the paper, held up a hand.

“Don’t get your hopes too high.”

He read out:

Let Austria be left quite free to take what military steps she thinks necessary for the punishment (if Servia refuses to punish without being forced) of those concerned in the murder of the Archduke. The occupation of Belgrade should suffice...

“Serbia should allow a foreign power to occupy its capital city?” exclaimed Martin, “I don’t see that happening peacefully.”

The Cynic went on.

War between Austria and Servia would be very regrettable; still, it would not be a European calamity, and, when all is said, Servia would have brought it on herself. Perhaps it is not too late to prevent a more general European war, and the Power which hastens by a single hour so frightful a disaster is a traitor to civilisation.

“Now that’s true. We could let Austria and Serbia slog it out between them,” said the Cynic, “while the rest of Europe sits on the sidelines and spectates.” He nodded. “A bit cynical but what’s wrong with a little cynicism if it at least keeps you alive?”

Fortunately he didn’t see the smile Martin failed to suppress.

Countdown to War, Day 22. 19 July: Germany puts weapons before democracy, Huerta gets out of Mexico, Pankhurst gets out of gaol, US money gets into Ireland

One hundred years ago today, on Sunday 19 July 1914, Martin the railwayman from Manchester might have collected the Observer from his Methodist Minister, and read about an exercise in Dulwich, South London, the previous day. Though it sounded gruesome, it had apparently been a good-humoured event.

Dulwich Village was under fire yesterday afternoon. According to the programme of the fourth annual inspection of the Camberwell Red Cross Nurses, England had been invaded but it cannot be said that the inhabitants of the district treated the situation with much gravity, for they turned out in their best white frocks and sporting suits to gloat over the “wounded”. ...

The injured, who wore their ills with astonishing optimism, were cared for by beaming nurses in smart blue uniforms and many of the spectators would have willingly been injured for the sake of the smiles given...

Amusing, he thought. Though he suspected that with real injuries, it might have taken more than a smile to lighten the mood.

Oh, that Huerta chap in Mexico was in trouble again. In fact he wasn’t even in Mexico any more.

General Huerta has decided to depart on board the German cruiser Dresden... It is understood that Jamaica is the destination... In the course of an interview General Huerta said: “When I assumed the presidency I said publicly that I would restore peace, come what might. I have paid. It has cost me the Presidency. To restore peace has been my whole and sole ambition.”

If Huerta’s only ambition had been peace and he’d been driven out by a military uprising, Martin couldn’t help feeling he’d fallen somewhat short of his aspirations.

Then there were some snippets that caught his eye, such as one under the headline: “American Money for Volunteers”.

The United Irish League has forwarded to Mr. Redmond £2,000 of the promised £20,000 to be used for the Nationalist cause.

Money from the US for John Redmond, leader of the Irish Party in Parliament? What business was it of Americans to meddle in the affairs of the United Kingdom?

An article headlined “Mrs. Pankhurst again released” reported laconically that the great Suffragette leader was back out of prison, if only for twelve days. But there was no talk of her speaking at any further meeting, as had been the plan before her previous arrest. 

French armoured cruiser Ernest Renan

The article “Brothers in Arms” was about one of the leading figures in the Royal Navy, Sir John Jellicoe, who wrote to a Frenchman and fellow vice-Admiral:

My dear de Marolles, – Last night nearly 70 officers, who took part in Chinese operations in 1900, dined together under the presidency of Sir Edward Seymour. I have been asked to write to you and say that they have not forgotten our French comrades, and that they drank their health and that of their brave leader, yourself. It is with great pleasure that I perform this duty. 

Comrades in arms, then. Some people rated the Frogs. Though Martin still wondered whether the safer money wouldn’t be on the Germans. But the Germans: they seemed terribly earnest about keeping their people down and their arms plentiful.

The Liberal papers are drawing attention to another telegram from the Crown Prince expressing approval of a political pamphlet in which the present Chancellor and his policy are handled in a not very flattering manner.

The recipient of the telegram is Professor Bueholz, of Posen, who, in his pamphlet, strongly combats the modern tendencies towards the democratisation of the German Government and affirms the necessity of further armaments.

Crown Prince Wilhelm with German troops
No more a bundle of laughs than last time we saw him

Depressing. Though not as depressing as finding out that Surrey had racked up an impressive 402 against Lancashire at the Oval the previous day. 

That wasn’t a match Martin’s county was likely to win.

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 20. 17 July 1914: a suffragette martyr, more trouble with Carson, the Royal Navy assembles, French airmen get lost

One hundred years ago today, on Friday 17 July 1914, Martin the railwayman would have discovered from his Manchester Guardian that the authorities had succeeded after all in keeping Emmeline Pankhurst from attending the votes for women meeting the day before. Two days ago the paper had quoted her fellow suffragette Mrs Mansel saying that “Mrs. Pankhurst was going to the meeting on Thursday evening, and nothing could stop her.”

There’d been an attempt to get her there; she’d emerged from the house surrounded by the “announced ‘bodyguard’ of clergymen and doctors” who would attempt to prevent her being re-arrested.

Emmeline Pankhurst
Didn't make it to the meeting

Following them came Mrs. Pankhurst on a stretcher, accompanied by some nurses. She was covered with a black evening cloak and looked very pale. A nurse endeavoured to enter the motor ambulance, but was prevented by the police.

In the meantime, Mrs. Pankhurst had been lifted into the motor ambulance, followed by another nurse. Chief Inspector McBrien and Inspector Parker sprang in immediately afterwards. While this was happening a uniformed policeman had got on the seat beside the driver, and before the crowd had fully realised it Mrs. Pankhurst was on her way to Holloway [women’s prison].

“The women still got £15,000 in contributions,” said the young man reading the article, “despite the arrest.”

“Despite?” said the Cynic, “Because. Nothing’s so effective for getting sympathy as martyrdom.”

Home Rule legislation for Ireland was entering its final stages in Parliament. Compromise between Protestant opponents of Home Rule and Catholic nationalists looked as remote as ever.

Communications have taken place to-day between the Prime Minister and Sir Edward Carson. What the result of these was cannot be known, but it may be assumed that no settlement is at present in sight, and that the chance of one is at the moment slender owing to the persistence of the uncompromising attitude taken by the Ulster leader in Belfast last week and since he returned to London.

He smiled a wrily.

“Carson’s a lawyer, but his movement is stockpiling arms. Illegally. Criminally. And the government’s crawling to him. Why don’t they arrest him? Why aren’t they interrogating him instead of negotiating with him?”

“Hold on,” said one of this workmates, “he’s a patriot. He wants to keep the United Kingdom united. A kingdom with Ireland in it.”

“What’s a crime for some,” said the Cynic, “is just a different way of doing the right thing in others. If you’re a loyalist, whatever you do’s loyal, illegal or not.”

Meanwhile, Parliament kept talking about legislation for Ireland. Well, he wished them luck. Legislation was at least preferable to war. And there was no war so bitter as civil war.

Talking of war, what was happening in Europe generally? There at least the alarming news items from yesterday’s paper seemed not to have been followed up by further worrying developments. Unless – what should he make of the massive assembly of the fleet now under way at Portsmouth? Sea and air fleet, in fact – he needed to get used to the fact that there were now airborne weapons too.

Nearly five hundred war vessels comprising the British Home Fleet will be assembled at Spithead during the week-end for the ‘test mobilisation’ and inspection by the King. The first contingent, including most of the bigger battleships and cruisers, steamed into the Solent yesterday and provided a fine spectacle.

It seemed that there had been a “splendid response” to the Admiralty’s call for reservists, “17,000 of whom have joined for eleven days.”

Reservists called up?

The “newly-created air service” would be on display. Overall, the exercise would involve the “most powerful fleet ever known” to have been deployed.

He couldn’t make up his mind whether this was just for show or preparation for something more sinister.

Another story was about “French Airmen Detained”. It sounded bad, but wasn’t. Or perhaps it wasn’t. He couldn’t tell whether there something sinister behind the apparently ridiculous.

A couple of French airmen mistook the Black Forest, in Germany, for the Vosges, in France, got lost and had to land on German soil. It all ended well (though God knows what sort of reception the two flyers came home to), as the Guardian reported:

The army headquarters at Carlsruhe have decided that the aviators shall be allowed to return after a protocol has been drawn up.

He didn’t know what to make of that. Either the French air service was so incompetent that they couldn’t work out where that highly sensitive frontier ran, or they were spying on Germany, which as well as being sinister enough in itself, meant they weren’t smart enough to get away with it, which showed worrying incompetence.

Either way, it wasn’t a story to inspire much confidence in our Entente Cordiale partners.

French Air Force
Needed to learn not to confuse mountain ranges

Countdown to War, day 13. 10 July: tensions between Germany and France, naval competition between Britain and Germany.

One hundred years ago today, on Friday 10 July 1914, our young Mancunian railwayman was surprised to see his Manchester Guardian reporting on an “Alsatian Attack on Germany.” 

“An entire nation attacked by a dog?” spluttered one of Martin’s workmates.

“Spare us the anachronistic jokes,” said the Cynic, “the dogs are German Shepherds and won’t be called Alsatians for another four or five years yet.”

The Alsatian in question was a native of Alsace, the disputed province claimed by France but seized by Germany, along with part of Lorraine, in the war of 1870-71.

The Franco-Prussian War. The last conflict between major European States. What a huge achievement the 40-year peace had been. The relegation of war in Europe to the dustbin of history had to be a tribute to the progress made by civilised states. The trick now was to make sure nothing upset it, which wasn’t easy since the surface peace hid powerful underlying tensions.

Animosity was sustained in particular by those who protested against the dispensation the last war had created. None protested more loudly than the French over their lost provinces. It seemed that some of the citizens of those provinces bewailed their fate as loudly as the former mother country.

The Leipsic Imperial Court yesterday sentenced an Alsatian artist named Johann Waltz to a year’s imprisonment for inciting various classes of the populace to commit acts of violence and for insulting the gendarmery of Alsace and teachers trained in the Alsace Lorraine seminaries.

Waltz is Hansi, the well-known Alsatian caricaturist and etcher. He was brought before the Imperial Court... on a charge of high treason as well as libel based on his book “My Village”... which was written in French and represents the annexed provinces as groaning under the iron rule of their conquerors and looking with regret and longing towards France...

Hansi making a point:
he shows German visitors to Alsace as tourists 
though the province was ostensibly German 

As well as Franco-German hostility, one of the most painful factors of international politics for at least as long as Martin could remember, had been the protracted arms race between Britain and Germany. As an island, Britain had historically pursued overwhelming naval power; recently, however, she had been increasingly challenged by Germany. Now it seemed that this old, enormously expensive and wasteful race was under way again.

... a further important measure of Imperial taxation is to be expected in the coming Reichstag session [and] has given fresh impulse to the reports that money, in spite of all denials, is needed for armaments and this time for the navy ... rumours of an increase in the personnel of the navy and also in the number of armoured cruisers have been contradicted.

It was peacetime, for God’s sake. Why did the Germans need to spend so much on arms? And the British would be bound to respond: Winston Churchill was First Sea Lord, the Minister responsible for the Navy, and he was keen to preserve the British lead. If he didn’t, many would remind him of this duty, not least Admiral Beresford, MP for the naval city of Portsmouth and a leading spokesman on marine matters for the Opposition Conservative Party. 

It probably didn’t help that Churchill had begun his career as a Conservative himself and only later switched to the Liberals.

“For now,” said the Cynic, “watch him in action and you can’t help wondering whether he wouldn’t be happier back where he started.” 

Building up such massive forces in Germany and Britain could only increase the danger of war, and not lessen it. That had to be particularly dangerous at a time when Germany was so prickly towards France. As the Hansi case showed.

Countdown to War. Day 8, 5 July: Did someone say war?

One hundred years ago today, on Sunday 5 July 1914, the young Mancunian Martin would have visited his Methodist Minister, to collect the Observer once he’d finished with it.
 
Like the Manchester Guardian the previous day, the Sunday paper reflected on the Entente Cordiale or cordial understanding between France and Britain. 

Now that this instrument of peace and understanding between the two nations is such an accepted, and let us hope a solid, factor in international polity, a certain retrospect is all the more welcome...

Peace and understanding. The hallmark of 1914, as US and Canadian troops showed when they met in Vermont the day before, for joint commemorations of the end of the War of 1812 a hundred years earlier. That was the spirit when “the American Ambassador was the principal guest at a banquet given at the Savoy Hotel last night by the American Society in London in celebration of Independence Day,” an event attended by 250 and which “evoked much enthusiasm.”

As usual, however, neither peace nor understanding were particularly in evidence in Ireland. Although the paper reported on a speech by Tory MP Sir Arthur Steel-Maitland: “the chance of civil war, in his opinion, had become very small,” which ought to be encouraging, Martin remained sceptical. Their denials only reinforced the ideas politicians tried to dismiss, if only because they raised them. In any case, another article, headlined  “Rifles in Belfast”, pointed out that “the South Belfast Regiment of the Ulster Volunteers openly carried rifles and bayonets through the streets of Belfast in a march yesterday afternoon.”

That hardly seemed like a gesture for peace.

It also seemed that the repercussions of the shooting in Bosnia still hadn’t entirely died down, as Martin had begun to believe:

According to a telegram from Sarajevo it has now been ascertained that ten persons were implicated in the conspiracy. They have all been arrested. All telegraph and telephone communications with Sarajevo are now under strict censorship, and are only permitted to be made in German.

Clearly, the Austrians were taking things seriously in their restless province. That was underlined by another piece which, like the comments about Ireland, only increased the fears it was trying to allay:

A semi-official communiqué issued in Budapest warns Servia that although Austria-Hungary does not desire a war with Servia, she expects the Servian Government to fulfil all [its] obligations in connection with “the crime which was undoubtedly promoted in Belgrade.”

War? That word hadn’t been used before. Even mentioning the possibility seemed to raise the spectre of a tragic event being turned into an international disaster.

German troops in the formerly French city of Strasbourg in 1915

Meanwhile elsewhere, another “semi-official” announcement had been issued, this time by the German authorities, for their province of Alsace, seized from France 43 years earlier:

TRICOLOUR BANNED IN ALSACE

A semi-official warning against the wearing of the French colours was published here today. The warning states that it has recently been observed that French colours and badges have been worn in a conspicuous manner, especially by persons returning from excursions across the frontier, and adds that it is desirable to recall the fact that the public display of these colours in an offence punishable under a decree of 1848, which has been confirmed by numerous judicial decisions with imprisonment and fines.

So it seemed that even among local people, tensions were still simmering over which nation should control the province.

The Royal Navy: never stronger

It was unfortunate that France and Germany couldn’t patch up their differences. After all, Britain’s “cordial understanding” with France didn’t prevent her having equally cordial relations with Germany. Why, even their navies, though rivals, got on well enough. The Observer carried an item from Kiel, Germany’s main base on the Baltic:

It is announced that before the departure of the British Squadron from Kiel on Tuesday, Vice-Admiral Sir George Warrender sent the following telegram by wireless from his flagship King Geroge V. to Admiral von Cörper, the commander of the Baltic station:–
“Before leaving Kiel Bay I beg you and the commander-in-chief to accept the hearty thanks of the British Squadron for the magnificent hospitality shown to officers and men, comrades in the past and always.”

Heartwarming.