THE CRISIS
July 24–July 30
Prepare, prepare the iron helm of war,
Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;
The Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands,
And casts them out upon the darkened earth!
Prepare, prepare!
[BLAKE.]
Cabinet of Friday, July 24—Fermanagh and Tyrone—The Austrian Ultimatum
to Serbia—Seventeen Points to remember—The Naval Position—The
Mission of Herr Ballin—Sunday, July 26—The Fleet held together—The
Admiralty Communiqué—The Cabinet and the Crisis—The Policy of Sir
Edward Grey: Cardinal Points—Belgium and France—Was there an
Alternative?—Justice to France—Naval Preparations of July 27 and
28—The Precautionary Period—The Turkish Battleships—What the
German Admiralty knew—German Agents—The Decisive Step—Passage of
the Straits of Dover by the Fleet, July 30—The Fleet in its War
Station—The King’s Ships at Sea.
The Cabinet on Friday afternoon sat long revolving the Irish problem.
The Buckingham Palace Conference had broken down. The disagreements and
antagonisms seemed as fierce and as hopeless as ever, yet the margin in
dispute, upon which such fateful issues hung, was inconceivably petty.
The discussion turned principally upon the boundaries of Fermanagh and
Tyrone. To this pass had the Irish factions in their insensate warfare
been able to drive their respective British champions. Upon the
disposition of these clusters of humble parishes turned at that moment
the political future of Great Britain. The North would not agree to
this, and the South would not agree to that. Both the leaders wished to
settle; both had dragged their followers forward to the utmost point
they dared. Neither seemed able to give an inch. Meanwhile, the
settlement of Ireland must carry with it an immediate and decisive
abatement of party strife in Britain, and those schemes of unity and
co-operation which had so intensely appealed to the leading men on both
sides, ever since Mr. Lloyd George had mooted them in 1910, must
necessarily have come forward into the light of day. Failure to settle
on the other hand meant something very like civil war and the plunge
into depths of which no one could make any measure. And so, turning this
way and that in search of an exit from the deadlock, the Cabinet toiled
around the muddy byways of Fermanagh and Tyrone. One had hoped that the
events of April at the Curragh and in Belfast would have shocked British
public opinion, and formed a unity sufficient to impose a settlement on
the Irish factions. Apparently they had been insufficient. Apparently
the conflict would be carried one stage further by both sides with
incalculable consequences before there would be a recoil. Since the days
of the Blues and the Greens in the Byzantine Empire, partisanship had
rarely been carried to more absurd extremes. An all-sufficient shock
was, however, at hand.
The discussion had reached its inconclusive end, and the Cabinet was
about to separate, when the quiet grave tones of Sir Edward Grey’s voice
were heard reading a document which had just been brought to him from
the Foreign Office. It was the Austrian note to Serbia. He had been
reading or speaking for several minutes before I could disengage my mind
from the tedious and bewildering debate which had just closed. We were
all very tired, but gradually as the phrases and sentences followed one
another impressions of a wholly different character began to form in my
mind. This note was clearly an ultimatum; but it was an ultimatum such
as had never been penned in modern times. As the reading proceeded it
seemed absolutely impossible that any State in the world could accept
it, or that any acceptance, however abject, would satisfy the aggressor.
The parishes of Fermanagh and Tyrone faded back into the mists and
squalls of Ireland, and a strange light began immediately, but by
perceptible gradations, to fall and grow upon the map of Europe.
I always take the greatest interest in reading accounts of how the war
came upon different people; where they were, and what they were doing,
when the first impression broke on their mind, and they first began to
feel this overwhelming event laying its fingers on their lives. I never
tire of the smallest detail, and I believe that so long as they are true
and unstudied they will have a definite value and an enduring interest
for posterity; so I shall briefly record exactly what happened to me.
I went back to the Admiralty at about 6 o’clock. I said to my friends
who have helped me so many years in my work[27] that there was real
danger and that it might be war.
I took stock of the position, and wrote out to focus them in my mind a
series of points which would have to be attended to if matters did not
mend. My friends kept these as a check during the days that followed and
ticked them off one by one as they were settled.
1. First and Second Fleets. Leave and disposition.
2. Third Fleet. Replenish coal and stores.
3. Mediterranean movements.
4. China dispositions.
5. Shadowing cruisers abroad.
6. Ammunition for self-defensive merchantmen.
7. Patrol Flotillas. Disposition.
Leave.
Complete.
35 ex-Coastals.
8. Immediate Reserve.
9. Old Battleships for Humber. Flotilla for Humber.
10. Ships at emergency dates.
Ships-building for Foreign Powers.
11. Coastal Watch.
12. Anti-aircraft guns at Oil Depots.
13. Aircraft to Sheerness. Airships and Seaplanes.
14. K. Espionage.
15. Magazines and other vulnerable points.
16. Irish ships.
17. Submarine dispositions.
I discussed the situation at length the next morning (Saturday) with the
First Sea Lord. For the moment, however, there was nothing to do. At no
time in all these last three years were we more completely ready.
The test mobilisation had been completed, and with the exception of the
Immediate Reserve, all the reservists were already paid off and
journeying to their homes. But the whole of the 1st and 2nd Fleets were
complete in every way for battle and were concentrated at Portland,
where they were to remain till Monday morning at 7 o’clock, when the 1st
Fleet would disperse by squadrons for various exercises and when the
ships of the 2nd Fleet would proceed to their Home Ports to discharge
their balance crews. Up till Monday morning therefore, a word
instantaneously transmitted from the wireless masts of the Admiralty to
the _Iron Duke_ would suffice to keep our main force together. If the
word were not spoken before that hour, they would begin to separate.
During the first twenty-four hours after their separation they could be
reconcentrated in an equal period; but if no word were spoken for
forty-eight hours (i.e. by Wednesday morning), then the ships of the 2nd
Fleet would have begun dismissing their balance crews to the shore at
Portsmouth, Plymouth and Chatham, and the various gunnery and torpedo
schools would have recommenced their instruction. If another forty-eight
hours had gone before the word was spoken, i.e. by Friday morning, a
certain number of vessels would have gone into dock for refit, repairs
or laying up. Thus on this Saturday morning we had the Fleet in hand for
at least four days.
[Illustration]
The night before (Friday), at dinner, I had met Herr Ballin. He had just
arrived from Germany. We sat next to each other, and I asked him what he
thought about the situation. With the first few words he spoke, it
became clear that he had not come here on any mission of pleasure. He
said the situation was grave. ‘I remember,’ he said, ‘old Bismarck
telling me the year before he died that one day the great European War
would come out of some damned foolish thing in the Balkans.’ These
words, he said, might come true. It all depended on the Tsar. What would
he do if Austria chastised Serbia? A few years before there would have
been no danger, as the Tsar was too frightened for his throne, but now
again he was feeling himself more secure upon his throne, and the
Russian people besides would feel very hardly anything done against
Serbia. Then he said, ‘If Russia marches against Austria, we must march;
and if we march, France must march, and what would England do?’ I was
not in a position to say more than that it would be a great mistake to
assume that England would necessarily do nothing, and I added that she
would judge events as they arose. He replied, speaking with very great
earnestness, ‘Suppose we had to go to war with Russia and France, and
suppose we defeated France and yet took nothing from her in Europe, not
an inch of her territory, only some colonies to indemnify us. Would that
make a difference to England’s attitude? Suppose we gave a guarantee
beforehand.’ I stuck to my formula that England would judge events as
they arose, and that it would be a mistake to assume that we should
stand out of it whatever happened.
I reported this conversation to Sir Edward Grey in due course, and early
in the following week I repeated it to the Cabinet. On the Wednesday
following the exact proposal mooted to me by Herr Ballin, about Germany
not taking any territorial conquests in France but seeking indemnities
only in the colonies, was officially telegraphed to us from Berlin and
immediately rejected. I have no doubt that Herr Ballin was directly
charged by the Emperor with the mission to find out what England would
do.
Herr Ballin has left on record his impression of his visit to England at
this juncture. ‘Even a moderately skilled German diplomatist,’ he wrote,
‘could easily have come to an understanding with England and France, who
could have made peace certain and prevented Russia from beginning war.’
The editor of his memoirs adds: ‘The people in London were certainly
seriously concerned at the Austrian Note, but the extent to which the
Cabinet desired the maintenance of peace may be seen (as an example)
from the remark which Churchill, almost with tears in his eyes, made to
Ballin as they parted: “My dear friend, don’t let us go to war.”’
I had planned to spend the Sunday with my family at Cromer, and I
decided not to alter my plans. I arranged to have a special operator
placed in the telegraph office so as to ensure a continuous night and
day service. On Saturday afternoon the news came in that Serbia had
accepted the ultimatum. I went to bed with a feeling things might blow
over. We had had, as this account has shown, so many scares before. Time
after time the clouds had loomed up vague, menacing, constantly
changing; time after time they had dispersed. We were still a long way,
as it seemed, from any danger of war. Serbia had accepted the ultimatum,
could Austria demand more? And if war came, could it not be confined to
the East of Europe? Could not France and Germany, for instance, stand
aside and leave Russia and Austria to settle their quarrel? And then,
one step further removed, was our own case. Clearly there would be a
chance of a conference, there would be time for Sir Edward Grey to get
to work with conciliatory processes such as had proved so effective in
the Balkan difficulties the year before. Anyhow, whatever happened, the
British Navy had never been in a better condition or in greater
strength. Probably the call would not come, but if it did, it could not
come in a better hour. Reassured by these reflections I slept
peacefully, and no summons disturbed the silence of the night.
At 9 o’clock the next morning I called up the First Sea Lord by
telephone. He told me that there was a rumour that Austria was not
satisfied with the Serbian acceptance of the ultimatum, but otherwise
there were no new developments. I asked him to call me up again at
twelve. I went down to the beach and played with the children. We dammed
the little rivulets which trickled down to the sea as the tide went out.
It was a very beautiful day. The North Sea shone and sparkled to a far
horizon. What was there beyond that line where sea and sky melted into
one another? All along the East Coast, from Cromarty to Dover, in their
various sally-ports, lay our patrol flotillas of destroyers and
submarines. In the Channel behind the torpedo proof moles of Portland
Harbour waited all the great ships of the British Navy. Away to the
north-east, across the sea that stretched before me, the German High Sea
Fleet, squadron by squadron, was cruising off the Norwegian coast.
At 12 o’clock I spoke to the First Sea Lord again. He told me various
items of news that had come in from different capitals, none however of
decisive importance, but all tending to a rise of temperature. I asked
him whether all the reservists had already been dismissed. He told me
they had. I decided to return to London. I told him I would be with him
at nine, and that meanwhile he should do whatever was necessary.
Prince Louis awaited me at the Admiralty. The situation was evidently
degenerating. Special editions of the Sunday papers showed intense
excitement in nearly every European capital. The First Sea Lord told me
that in accordance with our conversation he had told the Fleet not to
disperse. I took occasion to refer to this four months later in my
letter accepting his resignation. I was very glad publicly to testify at
that moment of great grief and pain for him that his loyal hand had sent
the first order which began our vast naval mobilisation.
I then went round to Sir Edward Grey, who had rented my house at 33,
Eccleston Square. No one was with him except Sir William Tyrrell of the
Foreign Office. I told him that we were holding the Fleet together. I
learned from him that he viewed the situation very gravely. He said
there was a great deal yet to be done before a really dangerous crisis
was reached, but that he did not at all like the way in which this
business had begun. I asked whether it would be helpful or the reverse
if we stated in public that we were keeping the Fleet together. Both he
and Tyrrell were most insistent that we should proclaim it at the
earliest possible moment: it might have the effect of sobering the
Central Powers and steadying Europe. I went back to the Admiralty, sent
for the First Sea Lord, and drafted the necessary communiqué.
The next morning the following notice appeared in all the papers:—
BRITISH NAVAL MEASURES ORDERS TO FIRST AND SECOND FLEETS
NO MANŒUVRE LEAVE
We received the following statement from the Secretary of the
Admiralty at an early hour this morning:—
Orders have been given to the First Fleet, which is concentrated at
Portland, not to disperse for manœuvre leave for the present. All
vessels of the Second Fleet are remaining at their home ports in
proximity to their balance crews.
On Monday began the first of the Cabinets on the European situation,
which thereafter continued daily or twice a day. It is to be hoped that
sooner or later a detailed account of the movement of opinion in the
Cabinet during this period will be compiled and given to the world.
There is certainly no reason for anyone to be ashamed of honest and
sincere counsel given either to preserve peace or to enter upon a just
and necessary war. Meanwhile it is only possible, without breach of
constitutional propriety, to deal in the most general terms with what
took place.
The Cabinet was overwhelmingly pacific. At least three-quarters of its
members were determined not to be drawn into a European quarrel, unless
Great Britain were herself attacked, which was not likely. Those who
were in this mood were inclined to believe first of all that Austria and
Serbia would not come to blows; secondly, that if they did, Russia would
not intervene; thirdly, if Russia intervened, that Germany would not
strike; fourthly, they hoped that if Germany struck at Russia, it ought
to be possible for France and Germany mutually to neutralise each other
without fighting. They did not believe that if Germany attacked France,
she would attack her through Belgium or that if she did the Belgians
would forcibly resist; and it must be remembered, that during the whole
course of this week Belgium not only never asked for assistance from the
guaranteeing Powers but pointedly indicated that she wished to be left
alone. So here were six or seven positions, all of which could be
wrangled over and about none of which any final proof could be offered
except the proof of events. It was not until Monday, August 3, that the
direct appeal from the King of the Belgians for French and British aid
raised an issue which united the overwhelming majority of Ministers and
enabled Sir Edward Grey to make his speech on that afternoon to the
House of Commons.
My own part in these events was a very simple one. It was first of all
to make sure that the diplomatic situation did not get ahead of the
naval situation, and that the Grand Fleet should be in its War Station
before Germany could know whether or not we should be in the war, _and
therefore if possible before we had decided ourselves_. Secondly, it was
to point out that if Germany attacked France, she would do so through
Belgium, that all her preparations had been made to this end, and that
she neither could nor would adopt any different strategy or go round any
other way. To these two tasks I steadfastly adhered.
Every day there were long Cabinets from eleven onwards. Streams of
telegrams poured in from every capital in Europe. Sir Edward Grey was
plunged in his immense double struggle (_a_) to prevent war and (_b_)
not to desert France should it come. I watched with admiration his
activities at the Foreign Office and cool skill in council. Both these
tasks acted and reacted on one another from hour to hour. He had to try
to make the Germans realise that we were to be reckoned with, without
making the French or Russians feel they had us in their pockets. He had
to carry the Cabinet with him in all he did. During the many years we
acted together in the Cabinet, and the earlier years in which I read his
Foreign Office telegrams, I thought I had learnt to understand his
methods of discussion and controversy, and perhaps without offence I
might describe them.
After what must have been profound reflection and study, the Foreign
Secretary was accustomed to select one or two points in any important
controversy which he defended with all his resources and tenacity. They
were his fortified villages. All around in the open field the battle
ebbed and flowed, but if at nightfall these points were still in his
possession, his battle was won. All other arguments had expended
themselves, and these key positions alone survived. The points which he
selected over and over again proved to be inexpugnable. They were
particularly adapted to defence. They commended themselves to sensible
and fair-minded men. The sentiments of the patriotic Whig, the English
gentleman, the public school boy all came into the line for their
defence, and if they were held, the whole front was held, including much
debatable ground.
As soon as the crisis had begun he had fastened upon the plan of a
European conference, and to this end every conceivable endeavour was
made by him. To get the great Powers together round a table, in any
capital that was agreeable with Britain there to struggle for peace, and
if necessary to threaten war against those who broke it, was his plan.
Had such a conference taken place, there could have been no war. Mere
acceptance of the principle of a conference by the Central Powers would
have instantly relieved the tension. A will to peace at Berlin and
Vienna would have found no difficulties in escaping from the terrible
net which was drawing in upon us all hour by hour. But underneath the
diplomatic communications and manœuvres, the baffling proposals and
counter-proposals, the agitated interventions of Tsar and Kaiser, flowed
a deep tide of calculated military purpose. As the ill-fated nations
approached the verge, the sinister machines of war began to develop
their own momentum and even to take control themselves.
The Foreign Secretary’s second cardinal point was the English Channel.
Whatever happened, if war came, we could not allow the German Fleet to
come down the Channel to attack the French ports. Such a situation would
be insupportable for Great Britain. Every one who counted was agreed on
that from a very early stage in our discussions. But in addition we
were, in a sense, morally committed to France to that extent. No bargain
had been entered into. All arrangements that had been concerted were, as
has been explained, specifically preluded with a declaration that
neither party was committed to anything further than consultation
together if danger threatened. But still the fact remained that the
whole French Fleet was in the Mediterranean. Only a few cruisers and
flotillas remained to guard the Northern and Atlantic Coasts of France;
and simultaneously with that redisposition of forces, though not
contingent upon it or dependent upon it, we had concentrated all our
battleships at home, and only cruisers and battle-cruisers maintained
British interests in the Mediterranean. The French had taken their
decision on their own responsibility without prompting from us, and we
had profited by their action to strengthen our margin in the Line of
Battle at home. Whatever disclaimers we had made about not being
committed, could we, when it came to the point, honourably stand by and
see the naked French coasts ravaged and bombarded by German Dreadnoughts
under the eyes and within gunshot of our Main Fleet?
It seemed to me, however, very early in the discussion that the Germans
would concede this point to keep us out of the war, at any rate till the
first battles on land had been fought without us; and sure enough they
did. Believing as I did and do that we could not, for our own safety and
independence, allow France to be crushed as the result of aggressive
action by Germany, I always from the very earliest moment concentrated
upon our obligations to Belgium, through which I was convinced the
Germans must inevitably march to invade France. Belgium did not bulk
very largely in my sentiments at this stage. I thought it very unlikely
that she would resist. I thought, and Lord Kitchener, who lunched with
me on the Tuesday (28th), agreed, that Belgium would make some formal
protest and submit. A few shots might be fired outside Liége or Namur,
and then this unfortunate State would bow its head before overwhelming
might. Perhaps, even, there was a secret agreement allowing free passage
to the Germans through Belgium. How otherwise would all these
preparations of Germany, the great camps along the Belgian Frontier, the
miles and miles of sidings, the intricate network of railways have been
developed? Was it possible that German thoroughness could be astray on
so important a factor as the attitude of Belgium?
Those wonderful events which took place in Belgium on Sunday and Monday
and in the week that followed could not be foreseen by us. I saw in
Belgium a country with whom we had had many differences over the Congo
and other subjects. I had not discerned in the Belgium of the late King
Leopold the heroic nation of King Albert. But whatever happened to
Belgium, there was France whose very life was at stake, whose armies in
my judgment were definitely weaker than those by whom they would be
assailed, whose ruin would leave us face to face alone with triumphant
Germany: France, then schooled by adversity to peace and caution,
thoroughly democratic, already stripped of two fair provinces, about to
receive the final smashing blow from overwhelming brutal force. Only
Britain could redress the balance, could defend the fair play of the
world. Whatever else failed, we must be there, and we must be there in
time. A week later every British heart burned for little Belgium. From
every cottage labouring men, untrained to war but with the blood of an
unconquered people in their veins, were hurrying to the recruiting
stations with intent to rescue Belgium. But at this time it was not
Belgium one thought of, but France. Still, Belgium and the Treaties were
indisputably an obligation of honour binding upon the British State such
as British Governments have always accepted; and it was on that ground
that I personally, with others, took my stand.
I will now examine the alternative question of whether more decided
action by Sir Edward Grey at an early stage would have prevented the
war. We must first ask, At what early stage? Suppose after Agadir or on
the announcement of the new German Navy Law in 1912 the Foreign
Secretary had, in cold blood, proposed a formal alliance with France and
Russia, and in execution of military conventions consequential upon the
alliance had begun to raise by compulsion an army adequate to our
responsibilities and to the part we were playing in the world’s affairs;
and suppose we had taken this action as a united nation; who shall say
whether that would have prevented or precipitated the war? But what
chance was there of such action being unitedly taken? The Cabinet of the
day would never have agreed to it. I doubt if four Ministers would have
agreed to it. But if the Cabinet had been united upon it, the House of
Commons would not have accepted their guidance. Therefore the Foreign
Minister would have had to resign. The policy which he had advocated
would have stood condemned and perhaps violently repudiated; and with
that repudiation would have come an absolute veto upon all those
informal preparations and non-committal discussions on which the
defensive power of the Triple Entente was erected. Therefore, by taking
such a course in 1912 Sir Edward Grey would only have paralysed Britain,
isolated France and increased the preponderant and growing power of
Germany.
Suppose again that now after the Austrian ultimatum to Serbia, the
Foreign Secretary had proposed to the Cabinet that if matters were so
handled that Germany attacked France or violated Belgian territory,
Great Britain would declare war upon her. Would the Cabinet have
assented to such a communication? I cannot believe it. If Sir Edward
Grey could have said on Monday that if Germany attacked France or
Belgium, England would declare war upon her, might there not still have
been time to ward off the catastrophe? The question is certainly
arguable. But the knowledge which we now have of events in Berlin tends
to show that even then the German Government were too deeply committed
by their previous action. They had before their eyes the deliberate
British announcement that the Fleet was being held together. That at
least was a serious if silent warning. Under its impression the German
Emperor, as soon as he returned to Berlin, made on this same Monday and
succeeding days strong efforts to bring Austria to reason and so to
prevent war. But he could never overtake events or withstand the
contagion of ideas. However this may be, I am certain that if Sir Edward
Grey had sent the kind of ultimatum suggested, the Cabinet would have
broken up, and it is also my belief that up till Wednesday or Thursday
at least, the House of Commons would have repudiated his action. Nothing
less than the deeds of Germany would have converted the British nation
to war. To act in advance of those deeds would have led to an exposure
of division worse than the guarded attitude which we maintained, which
brought our country into the war united. After Wednesday or Thursday it
was too late. By the time we could speak decisive words of warning, the
hour of words had certainly passed for ever.
It is true to say that our Entente with France and the military and
naval conversations that had taken place since 1906, had led us into a
position where we had the obligations of an alliance without its
advantages. An open alliance, if it could have been peacefully brought
about at an earlier date, would have exercised a deterring effect upon
the German mind, or at the least would have altered their military
calculations. Whereas now we were morally bound to come to the aid of
France and it was our interest to do so, and yet the fact that we should
come in appeared so uncertain that it did not weigh as it should have
done with the Germans. Moreover, as things were, if France had been in
an aggressive mood, we should not have had the unquestioned right of an
ally to influence her action in a pacific sense: and if as the result of
her aggressive mood war had broken out and we had stood aside, we should
have been accused of deserting her, and in any case would have been
ourselves grievously endangered by her defeat.
However, in the event there was no need to moderate the French attitude.
Justice to France requires the explicit statement that the conduct of
her Government at this awful juncture was faultless. She assented
instantly to every proposal that could make for peace. She abstained
from every form of provocative action. She even compromised her own
safety, holding back her covering troops at a considerable distance
behind her frontier, and delaying her mobilisation in the face of
continually gathering German forces till the latest moment. Not until
she was confronted with the direct demand of Germany to break her Treaty
and abandon Russia, did France take up the challenge; and even had she
acceded to the German demand, she would only, as we now know, have been
faced with a further ultimatum to surrender to German military
occupation as a guarantee for her neutrality the fortresses of Toul and
Verdun. There never was any chance of France being allowed to escape the
ordeal. Even cowardice and dishonour would not have saved her. The
Germans had resolved that if war came from any cause, they would take
and break France forthwith as its first operation. The German military
chiefs burned to give the signal, and were sure of the result. She would
have begged for mercy in vain.
She did not beg.
The more I reflect upon this situation, the more convinced I am that we
took the only practical course that was open to us or to any British
Cabinet; and that the objections which may be urged against it were less
than those which would have attended any other sequence of action.
* * * * *
After hearing the discussions at Monday’s Cabinet and studying the
telegrams, I sent that night to all our Commanders-in-Chief the
following very secret warning:—
_July 27, 1914._
This is not the Warning Telegram, but European political situation
makes war between Triple Entente and Triple Alliance Powers by no
means impossible. Be prepared to shadow possible hostile men of war
and consider dispositions of H.M. ships under your command from this
point of view. Measure is purely precautionary. No unnecessary person
is to be informed. The utmost secrecy is to be observed.
On Tuesday morning I sent the following minute to the First Sea Lord, to
which he replied marginally the same day:—
_July 28, 1914._
[Sidenote: Will go North with Fleet.]
1. It would appear that the minesweepers should be quietly collected
at some suitable point for attendance on the Battle Fleet, should it
move.
[Sidenote: Done.]
2. Let me have a short statement on the coal position and what
measures you propose.
[Sidenote: Yes.]
3. I presume _Firedrake_ and _Lurcher_ will now join their proper
flotilla.
[Sidenote: Have been ordered away.]
4. All the vessels engaged on the coast of Ireland should be
considered as available on mobilisation, and on receipt of the warning
telegram should move to their war stations without the slightest
delay.
[Sidenote: Will be done as soon as F.O. concur.]
5. It would certainly be desirable that _Triumph_ should be quietly
mobilised and that she should be ready to close the China flagship
with available destroyers. The position of the German heavy cruisers
in China waters makes it clear that this can be done. Please examine
and report what disadvantages this mobilisation would entail. We can
then discuss whether it is worth while taking them in the present
circumstances. [Sidenote: Should concentrate at Hong Kong at once.]
The China Squadron must be capable of concentrating as soon as the
warning telegram is sent and before a main action is necessary.
Without the _Triumph_ the margin of superiority is small and any
reinforcement from other stations would be slow.
[Sidenote: Decided “No” at Conference.]
6. You should consider whether the position of the _Goeben_[28] at
Pola does not justify the detachment of the _New Zealand_ to join the
Mediterranean flag.
[Sidenote: Settled personally with O. of I.G.S.]
7. Yesterday, after consultation with the Prime Minister, I arranged
personally with the Chief of the Imperial General Staff for the better
guarding of magazines and oil tanks against evilly-disposed persons
and attacks by aircraft. These measures have now been taken. See
attached letter from the Chief of the Imperial General Staff and my
reply. You should direct the Director of Operations Division to obtain
full detailed information from the War Office of what has been done,
and in the event of any place being overlooked, to make the necessary
representations.
[Sidenote: Done.]
8. Director of the Air Division should be asked to report the exact
positions of the aircraft which were concentrated yesterday in the
neighbourhood of the Thames Estuary, and further to state what is
being done to reach a complete understanding between the [Sidenote: L.
B.] aircraft and the military authorities in charge of the aerial gun
defences at various points. This is of the utmost importance if
accidents are to be avoided.
W. S. C.
The official ‘warning telegram’ was despatched from the Admiralty on
Wednesday, the 29th. On this same day I obtained from the Cabinet the
authority to put into force the ‘Precautionary Period’ regulations. The
work of Ottley and of Hankey and generally of the Committee of Imperial
Defence, was now put to the proof. It was found in every respect
thorough and comprehensive, and all over the country emergency measures
began to astonish the public. Naval harbours were cleared, bridges were
guarded, steamers were boarded and examined, watchers lined the coasts.
First Sea Lord.
Fourth Sea Lord.
Director of Air Department.
_July 29, 1914._
In the present stage of aeronautics, the primary duty of British
aircraft is to fight enemy aircraft, and thus afford protection
against aerial attack. This should be made clear to air officers,
Commander-in-Chief, Nore, and Admiral of Patrols, in order that
machines may not be needlessly used up in ordinary scouting duties.
After the primary requirement is well provided for, whatever aid is
possible for coastal watch and extended defence scouting should be
organised. But the naval aircraft are to regard the defence against
attack from the air as their first and main responsibility. They must
be carefully husbanded.
W. S. C.
_July 28, 1914._
Director Intelligence Division.
Please mark off on my ‘Table of Battleship Strength’ all British and
German Dreadnought battleships available for war (a) in the next
month, and (b) at the end of three months. You should include the two
Turkish ships in your calculation. Let me also have a similar table
about battle-cruisers.
W. S. C.
Our war arrangements comprised an elaborate scheme for dealing with
vessels under construction. In 1912 measures had been taken to keep it
perpetually up to date. The principle was that for the first three
months of a war all efforts should be concentrated on finishing ships
that could be ready in the first six months, other vessels whose dates
of completion were more remote being somewhat retarded. This ensured the
greatest possible superiority in the early months, and would give us
time to see what kind of a war it was and how it went, before dealing
with more distant contingencies. The plan of course covered all ships
building in Great Britain for foreign Powers. Of these there were two
battleships building for Turkey, three flotilla leaders for Chili, four
destroyers for Greece, and three monitors for Brazil. There were also
other important ships, including a Chilian and a Brazilian battleship
and a Dutch cruiser, which would not be ready till much later. The
Turkish battleships were vital to us. With a margin of only seven
Dreadnoughts we could not afford to do without these two fine ships.
Still less could we afford to see them fall into bad hands and possibly
be used against us. Had we delivered them to Turkey, they would, as the
event turned out, have formed with the _Goeben_ a hostile force which
would have required a force of not less than five British Dreadnought
battleships or battle-cruisers to watch them. Thus the British numbers
would have been reduced by three instead of being increased by two. One
of the Turkish battleships (the _Reshadieh_) which Armstrongs were
building on the Tyne when the crisis began, was actually complete. The
Turkish crew, over 500 strong, had already arrived to take her over and
were lying in their steamer in the river. There seemed to be a great
danger of their coming on board, brushing aside Messrs. Armstrongs’
workmen and hoisting the Turkish flag, in which case a very difficult
diplomatic situation would have been created. I determined to run no
risks, and on the 31st July I sent written instructions that adequate
military guards were to be placed on board this vessel and that in no
circumstances was she to be boarded by the Turks. It has sometimes been
made a ground for reproach against me that the requisition of these
ships was one of the causes which brought Turkey into the war three
months later. We now know that negotiations were taking place from the
24th July onwards between the Germans and the leaders of the Committee
of Union and Progress for an alliance between Germany and Turkey, and
that such Alliance was actually signed on August 2.
It is interesting to read in the German Official History what they knew
about our preparations at this time.
‘At 6.20 p.m. on July 28 the following telegram was received in Berlin
from the German Naval Attaché:—
“Admiralty are not publishing ships’ movements. 2nd Fleet remains
fully manned. Schools closed in naval bases; preliminary measures
taken for recall from leave. According to unconfirmed news 1st Fleet
still at Portland, one submarine flotilla left Portsmouth. It is to be
assumed that Admiralty is preparing for mobilisation on the quiet.”
“He telegraphed later on the same day as follows:—
“As already reported by telegram, the British Fleet is preparing for
all eventualities. In broad outline the present distribution is as
follows: 1st Fleet is assembled at Portland. The battleship
_Bellerophon_ which was proceeding to Gibraltar for refit has been
recalled. The ships of the 2nd Fleet are at their bases: they are
fully manned. The schools on shore have not reopened. Ships of the 2nd
and 3rd Fleets have coaled, completed with ammunition and supplies,
and are at their bases. In consequence of the training of reservists,
just completed, latter can be manned more quickly than usual and with
more or less practised personnel, the _Times_ says, within 48 hours.
The destroyer and patrol flotillas and the submarines are either at or
_en route_ for their stations. No leave is being granted, officers and
men already on leave have been recalled.
“In the naval bases and dockyards great activity reigns; in addition
special measures of precaution have been adopted, all dockyards,
magazines, oil tanks, etc., being put under guard. Repairs of ships in
dockyard hands are being speeded up. A great deal of night work is
being done.
“The Press reports that the Mediterranean squadron had left
Alexandria; it is said that it will remain at Malta.
“All ships and squadrons have orders to remain ready for sea.
“Outwardly complete calm is preserved, in order not to cause anxiety
by alarming reports about the Fleet.
“Movements of ships, which are generally published daily by the
Admiralty, have been withheld since yesterday....
“The above preparations have been made on the Admiralty’s independent
initiative. The result is the same, whoever gave the orders.”’
The German Naval Attaché thus showed himself extremely well informed. As
I have already mentioned in an earlier chapter, the general warrant to
open the letters of certain persons which I had signed three years
before as Home Secretary, had brought to light a regular network of
minor agents, mostly British, in German pay in all our naval ports. Had
we arrested them, others of whom we might not have known, would have
taken their place. We therefore thought it better, having detected them,
to leave them at large. In this way one saw regularly from their
communications, which we carefully forwarded, what they were saying to
their paymasters in Berlin during these years, and we knew exactly how
to put our hands upon them at the proper moment. Up to this point we had
no objection to the German Government knowing that exceptional
precautions were being taken throughout the Navy. Indeed, apart from
details, it was desirable that they should know how seriously we viewed
the situation. But the moment had now come to draw down the curtain. We
no longer forwarded the letters and a few days later, on a word from me
to the Home Secretary, all these petty traitors, who for a few pounds a
month were seeking to sell their country, were laid by the heels. Nor
was it easy for the Germans to organise on the spur of the moment others
in their places.
The most important step remains to be recounted. As early as Tuesday,
July 28, I felt that the Fleet should go to its War Station. It must go
there at once, and secretly; it must be steaming to the north while
every German authority, naval or military, had the greatest possible
interest in avoiding a collision with us. If it went thus early it need
not go by the Irish Channel and northabout. It could go through the
Straits of Dover and through the North Sea, and therefore the island
would not be uncovered even for a single day. Moreover, it would arrive
sooner and with less expenditure of fuel.
[Illustration]
At about 10 o’clock, therefore, on the Tuesday morning I proposed this
step to the First Sea Lord and the Chief of the Staff and found them
wholeheartedly in favour of it. We decided that the Fleet should leave
Portland at such an hour on the morning of the 29th as to pass the
Straits of Dover during the hours of darkness, that it should traverse
these waters at high speed and without lights, and with the utmost
precaution proceed to Scapa Flow. I feared to bring this matter before
the Cabinet, lest it should mistakenly be considered a provocative
action likely to damage the chances of peace. It would be unusual to
bring movements of the British Fleet in Home Waters from one British
port to another before the Cabinet. I only therefore informed the Prime
Minister, who at once gave his approval. Orders were accordingly sent to
Sir George Callaghan, who was told incidentally to send the Fleet up
under his second-in-command and to travel himself by land through London
in order that we might have an opportunity of consultation with him.
_Admiralty to Commander-in-Chief Home Fleets._
_July 28, 1914. Sent 5 p.m._
To-morrow, Wednesday, the First Fleet is to leave Portland for Scapa
Flow. Destination is to be kept secret except to flag and commanding
officers. As you are required at the Admiralty, Vice-Admiral 2nd
Battle Squadron is to take command. Course from Portland is to be
shaped to southward, then a middle Channel course to the Straits of
Dover. The Squadrons are to pass through the Straits without lights
during the night and to pass outside the shoals on their way north.
_Agamemnon_ is to remain at Portland, where the Second Fleet will
assemble.
We may now picture this great Fleet, with its flotillas and cruisers,
steaming slowly out of Portland Harbour, squadron by squadron, scores of
gigantic castles of steel wending their way across the misty, shining
sea, like giants bowed in anxious thought. We may picture them again as
darkness fell, eighteen miles of warships running at high speed and in
absolute blackness through the Narrow Straits, bearing with them into
the broad waters of the North the safeguard of considerable affairs.
Although there seemed to be no conceivable motive chance or mischance
which could lead a rational German Admiralty to lay a trap of submarines
or mines or have given them the knowledge and the time to do so, we
looked at each other with much satisfaction when on Thursday morning
(the 30th) at our daily Staff Meeting the Flagship reported herself and
the whole Fleet well out in the centre of the North Sea.[29]
The German Ambassador lost no time in complaining of the movement of the
Fleet to the Foreign Office. According to the German Official Naval
History, he reported to his Government on the evening of the 30th that
Sir Edward Grey had answered him in the following words:—
‘The movements of the Fleet are free of all offensive character, and
the Fleet will not approach German waters.’
‘But,’ adds the German historian, ‘the strategic concentration of the
Fleet had actually been accomplished with its transfer to Scottish
ports.’ This was true. We were now in a position, whatever happened, to
control events, and it was not easy to see how this advantage could be
taken from us. A surprise torpedo attack before or simultaneous with the
declaration of war was at any rate one nightmare gone for ever. We could
at least see for ten days ahead. If war should come no one would know
where to look for the British Fleet. Somewhere in that enormous waste of
waters to the north of our islands, cruising now this way, now that,
shrouded in storms and mists, dwelt this mighty organisation. Yet from
the Admiralty building we could speak to them at any moment if need
arose. The king’s ships were at sea.