WHY BRITAIN WENT TO WAR.
Do you remember the week-end between Friday, 31st July, and Monday, 3rd
August? It was the most anxious and exciting time that living Britons
have ever known. On every tongue there was the same question: "Are we
going to war?" Everywhere you saw people feverishly buying edition after
edition of the evening papers, and gathering into little groups to
discuss the situation.
London, as you know, is the chief money market of the world, and the
effect of wars and rumours of wars in any country on the globe is felt
at once in the City of London. When it was evident that the four
greatest continental nations were setting their armies in motion, stocks
and shares fell to such a low price that dealing in them became
impossible. Many of the stockbroking firms failed, and business was
suspended, not only in London, but on almost every exchange throughout
the world. It was thought that there would be a shortage of gold, and
from noon onwards on the 31st of July the court-yard of the Bank of
England was crowded with people eager to exchange notes for gold.
Nevertheless "the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street," as the Bank of
England is sometimes called, remained perfectly calm, and inside the
building business went on as usual. On the 1st of August the bank
rate[165] rose to 10 per cent., and the Stock Exchange was closed.
[Illustration: Naval Reserves passing through Portsmouth to join their
ships.
_Photo, Sport and General._]
On Sunday, 2nd August, the Naval Reserves[166] were called up, and the
War Office became very active. A number of the London Territorial[167]
regiments were on their way to camp for their annual training, but they
were ordered to return and remain within reach of headquarters. It was
very clear to everybody that the issue of war or peace was hanging in
the balance.
* * * * *
On Sunday, 2nd August, the first important act of war was committed.
Look at the map on page 38, and find the river Moselle. Not far from its
left bank you will see the city of Luxemburg, which stands in the little
independent duchy of the same name, at the south-east corner of Belgium.
This state is about as large as the county of Essex, and its population
is less than that of the city of Edinburgh. It is a country of low
ridges and meadow land, and more than a quarter of its surface is
covered with forests. There are good deposits of iron, and many of the
people are engaged in mining and smelting the ore. From 1825 to 1867 the
state belonged to Germany, and down to 1872 its fortress was in the
hands of the Prussians. In that year the garrison was withdrawn, the
fortress was dismantled, and the state was neutralized. The army of
Luxemburg only consists of 150 soldiers and the same number of armed
policemen. Its Grand Duchess is Marie Adelaide, who is now in her
twenty-first year.
I want you to notice especially that the Germans did not propose to
invade France by the routes which they followed in 1870. In that year,
you will remember, they crossed the frontier in the direction of Metz,
and south of it. They had determined not to do this during the present
war, because, as you will gather from the map on page 98, the country is
hilly, and therefore difficult to traverse, and because the frontier is
protected by a chain of very powerful fortresses. As we shall see later,
they wished to enter France very quickly, and beat her as rapidly as
possible. Time was all-important to them, and they could not afford to
waste it in the long business of besieging barrier fortresses. They
therefore decided to invade France by the easy route through Belgium,
even though they would have to break a solemn treaty by so doing.
The frontier between Belgium and Germany is very narrow, only about
forty miles in width. As this space is insufficient for the quick and
orderly transfer of the huge armies which the Germans proposed to send
into France, they determined to break another treaty, and enter through
Luxemburg as well. This would give them another forty miles of line
across which to advance, and would place them in possession of a town in
which the whole network of railways uniting Germany, France, and Belgium
forms a junction. Once in Luxemburg, they were in command of the whole
system of roads and railways leading from North Germany into France and
Belgium.
When the inhabitants of Luxemburg awoke on the hot Sunday morning of 2nd
August, they were surprised to find that the Adolf Bridge, which leads
to the city across the river Alzette, was in the hands of the Germans. A
little later, armed motor cars, filled with German officers and men,
were seen approaching the city. It was the vanguard of the 39th
Regiment. A member of the Luxemburg Government met the invaders, and
handed them a copy of the treaty guaranteeing the neutrality of the
state. They told him that they knew all about the treaty, but that they
had their orders. The Archduchess now drove up, and tried to block the
path of the Germans with her motor car. She was told to go home at
once; and, having no force behind her, was obliged to obey.
On and on came the Germans, and the people were greatly surprised to see
amongst them many men who up to that time had been clerks in the offices
of Luxemburg. These men, while pretending to be peaceful citizens, had
made themselves thoroughly acquainted with the geography of the country,
had carefully noted the best points for the Germans to occupy, and the
places where they could procure provisions. Before nightfall the whole
state was in their hands; the roads and railways were guarded by
sentries; and houses, woods, and standing crops which might afford cover
to the enemy were destroyed.
That same day German cavalry crossed the French border near Longwy,[168]
and farther south, near Strassburg, they pushed across the frontier to
the town of Cirey-les-Forges.[169] Still farther south, near the Swiss
boundary, another raid was made. You will remember that the French had
promised to keep their troops back from the border as long as there was
the slightest chance of bringing Austria and Russia to agreement.
* * * * *
Monday, 3rd August, was the most remarkable Bank Holiday ever known in
Britain. All Bank Holiday excursions were cancelled, for the railways
were in the hands of the military authorities. Hundreds of thousands of
persons, who would otherwise have spent the day at the seaside or in the
country, were forced to remain in London. Great crowds gathered at
Westminster to see the members of Parliament enter Palace Yard. It was
known that a Cabinet Council had been held on the previous day, and that
a very important statement was to be made that very afternoon.
* * * * *
Let us peep into the House of Commons on that memorable occasion. The
Chamber, which is far too small to accommodate all the members of
Parliament, is crowded to excess. All the green benches are filled, the
side galleries are thronged, and there are rows of chairs in the
gangways. It is evident that a matter of great pith and moment is now
about to arise. There is some preliminary business to be got through,
and the House is impatient to see the end of it. Then Sir Edward Grey
rises, and amidst loud cheering advances to the table, and begins the
most fateful speech that was ever made in all our long history. He is
very grave, and his set face shows traces of the anxious and laborious
days through which he has recently passed. He speaks without passion,
and with no attempt at fine language; but every word that he utters is
full of deep meaning, and the House listens with eager attention.
He tells his fellow-members that the Government has worked with a single
mind, and with all the earnestness in its power, to preserve the peace,
but that its labours have proved vain--Germany and Russia have declared
war on each other. Then he goes on to speak of our friendship with
France--that warm and cordial friendship, which has replaced the enmity
of long ages. This friendship, he declares, entails duties upon us. The
French fleet is in the Mediterranean Sea, because of the good feeling
and confidence that has grown up between us, and the northern and
western coasts of France are without defence. "My own feeling is," he
says, "that if a foreign fleet, engaged in a war which France had not
sought, and in which she had not been the aggressor, came down the
English Channel and bombarded and battered the unprotected coasts of
France, we could not stand aside." The loud cheers which immediately
break forth show that the great majority of the members thoroughly agree
with him. When the cheers have subsided, he proceeds: "We could not see
this going on practically within sight of our eyes, with our arms
folded, doing nothing, and I believe that would be the feeling of this
country."
France, he says, is entitled to know at once whether she can depend upon
British support should her northern and western coasts be attacked. He
has therefore given an assurance to the French Government that, should
the German fleet come into the Channel or through the North Sea to
undertake hostile operations against the French coasts or shipping, the
British fleet, if Parliament approves, will give all the protection in
its power. The cheers that follow this statement clearly show that the
House of Commons fully approves of the undertaking which he has given to
France.
Then he turns to the all-important question of Belgium. He tells the
House what you already know--namely, that in 1870 we made a stand for
the neutrality of that little country, and were thus able to save her
from the horrors of invasion. What we did then, we are trying to do now.
France has given us her assurance that she will not enter Belgium if it
is not invaded by another Power, but Germany refuses to reply. She has
already asked King Albert to grant unopposed passage for her troops
through his country, and has promised to guarantee its independence if
he will consent to this course; but, at the same time, she has
threatened to treat Belgium as an enemy if the request is refused. The
Belgians are determined to resist the invasion of their land by every
means in their power.
Our treaty with Belgium binds us in honour to take her part. If in a
crisis like this we run away, we shall lose the respect of the
nations--a respect which we can never regain. Though we might, by
husbanding our resources, be able at the end of the war to prevent the
whole of western Europe from falling into the hands of Germany, our
moral position would be such----. The rest of the sentence is lost
amidst a loud burst of cheering. Almost to a man the members of the
House of Commons are convinced that we should sink to the lowest depths
of dishonour were we to abandon Belgium in her dark hour of trial.
The cheers are renewed when Sir Edward Grey declares that our Fleet has
been mobilized, and that our Army is mobilizing. Britain is ready to
play her part, whatever that may be. Then the speaker points out the one
bright spot in the whole terrible situation. Formerly, when Britain has
been engaged in war, the Irish people have seized the opportunity to
rise in revolt. At this time we have no such fear. Finally, he believes
that, should war come, the Government will be supported, not only by the
House of Commons, but by the determination, the resolution, the courage,
and the endurance of the whole country. Amidst loud and prolonged cheers
the speaker resumes his seat.
Then the Leader of the Opposition[170] rises and pledges the loyalty of
his followers in this great and grave crisis. So, too, does the leader
of the Irish Nationalists,[171] and only one voice is heard disapproving
of the course which the Government proposes to take. In the face of
national peril the vast majority of the men of every party, creed, and
sect stand shoulder to shoulder--forgetting their differences of
opinion, and only remembering that they are Britons, faced with the
greatest danger that has ever threatened their land. When Lord
Macaulay, in his ballad _Horatius_, wished to show us the Romans in
their noblest aspect, he said,--
"Then none was for a party;
Then all were for the State;...
The Romans were like brothers
In the brave days of old."
So it is with Britons all over the world in these days of anxiety and
peril. None is for a party, and all are for the State; and so it will be
until the war clouds roll away, and peace once more smiles upon us.
* * * * *
[Illustration: Sir Edward Grey making his great Speech in the House of
Commons on August 3, 1914.
"My own feeling is this, that if a foreign fleet, engaged in a war which
France had not sought, and in which she had not been the aggressor, came
down the English Channel and bombarded and battered the unprotected
coasts of France, we could not stand aside [loud cheers] and see this
going on practically within sight of our eyes, with our arms folded,
looking on dispassionately doing nothing; and I believe that would be
the feeling of this country [cheers]. ...If, in a crisis like this, we
ran away [loud cheers] from our obligations of honour and interest with
regard to the Belgian Treaty, I doubt whether whatever material force we
might have at the end of it would be of very much value in face of the
respect that we should have lost."
[_By permission of the illustrated London News._]
That afternoon the King and Queen drove from Buckingham Palace along the
Mall, and were everywhere greeted with the heartiest of cheers,
especially when they passed the German Embassy.[172] His Majesty could
not fail to understand the meaning of these cheers--the nation was one
in heart and mind in the great task which lay before it. In the evening,
thousands of people gathered outside Buckingham Palace, singing
patriotic songs and cheering again and again. Just after nine o'clock
the King, accompanied by the Queen and the Prince of Wales, appeared on
the balcony above the entrance to the north side of the Palace. Then the
cheers grew louder than ever. The King and Queen bowed again and again
to the people, and the Prince waved his hand. By this time it was clear
to all the world that the people of Britain were ready to face the
future, as Sir Edward Grey had prophesied, with determination,
resolution, courage, and endurance.
* * * * *
Next morning Sir Edward Grey telegraphed to Sir Edward Goschen, bidding
him request an immediate assurance from the German Government that
Belgium would not be invaded. Later in the day he telegraphed again,
telling our Ambassador that Belgium had already been invaded, and asking
for a satisfactory reply by twelve o'clock that night. If such a reply
was not forthcoming, Sir Edward Goschen was told to ask for his
passports, and say that Great Britain would do everything in her power
to uphold those treaty rights of Belgium to which Germany was a party as
well as Great Britain.
Sir Edward Goschen accordingly called upon the German Secretary of
State, Herr von Jagow, about seven o'clock that evening, and
delivered his message. The Secretary at once replied that he was sorry
to say that he could give no such undertaking, for the German troops
were already in Belgium. He then explained why his Government had been
obliged to take this step, and, in so doing, revealed the German plan of
campaign. They had to advance into France, he said, by the quickest and
easiest way, so as to be able to strike a decisive blow as soon as
possible. It was a matter of life and death to them; for, if they had
gone by the more southern route, they would have had bad roads to cross
and strong fortresses to take, and would, therefore, have wasted much
time. This loss of time would mean that the Russians would be able to
bring up their troops to the German frontier before the German conquest
of France was complete. As Russia had an almost endless number of
soldiers, they were bound to overthrow France as quickly as possible
before the Russians could muster in full strength.
Sir Edward Goschen then asked if there was not still time for the
Germans to draw back, and so avoid bringing Great Britain into the war.
To this, Herr von Jagow replied that it was now too late. Thus there was
nothing left for Sir Edward Goschen to do but to demand his passports.
Before doing so, however, he went to see the Chancellor, the man next in
authority to the Kaiser himself. Then followed one of the most dramatic
interviews known to history.
Sir Edward Goschen tells us that he found the Chancellor much upset, and
that he at once began a loud, angry speech, which lasted twenty minutes.
He said that the step taken by the British Government was terrible to a
degree. We were going to war just for a word--"neutrality"--a word which
had so often been set aside in time of war. Just for a treaty--"_a scrap
of paper_"--we were going to fight a kindred nation which desired
nothing better than to be friends with us. What we had done was like
striking a man from behind while he was struggling for his life against
two foes. He should hold Great Britain responsible for all the terrible
events that might happen.
Sir Edward Goschen strongly protested against this statement, and said
that in the same way that the Chancellor and Herr von Jagow thought the
violation of Belgium's neutrality was a matter of life and death to
them, so it was a matter of life and death to the honour of Great
Britain that she should keep her solemn engagements, and do her utmost
to defend Belgium if she should be attacked. If Great Britain did not
keep faith, what confidence would other nations have in her word for the
future? To which the Chancellor replied, "Has the British Government
thought of the price at which this compact will be kept?" Sir Edward
Goschen replied that no fear of consequences could be regarded as an
excuse for breaking solemn engagements; and he would have said more, but
the Chancellor was so agitated by the news that Great Britain would
fight for her honour, that he was incapable of listening to reason.
So the painful interview ended. A report of what had passed was drawn up
and handed in at a telegraph office a little before 9 p.m., but was
never dispatched.
You can now understand how the German Government regards its solemn
agreements. When they stand in the way of its ambitions they are but
"scraps of paper," to be torn into shreds. You can also understand how
anxious Germany was to keep us out of this war. Up to the last she
believed that we should not fight, and that she would be allowed to work
her wicked will on Belgium and France, while we stood by without lifting
a finger. We want no other charter of right for taking part in this war
than the speech of the German Chancellor which you have just read.
By our action we had put a spoke in the German wheel, and it was soon
evident that the Berlin crowds understood this, for they gathered before
the British Embassy and hurled stones at the windows. Police were
summoned, and the street was cleared; but large crowds assembled at the
stations, and jeered at Sir Edward Goschen as he travelled to the Dutch
frontier. Just before he left Berlin the Kaiser sent him a message,
regretting what had taken place, and saying that he would no longer
retain his rank as a British field-marshal and a British admiral.
* * * * *
Later on, the Chancellor made a speech in Parliament, and tried to
explain why Germany had broken her plighted word with regard to the
neutrality of Luxemburg and Belgium. He said, "We are now in a state of
necessity, and necessity knows no law. We were compelled to override the
just protest of the Luxemburg and Belgian Governments. The wrong--I
speak openly--that we are committing we will endeavour to make good as
soon as our military goal is reached. Anybody who is threatened as we
are threatened, and is fighting for his highest possessions, can only
have one thought--how he is _to hack his way through_." Thus Germany
began the war by a confession of wrongdoing. Since the Chancellor spoke,
nothing more has been said of the "wrong;" but attempts have been made
to prove that Germany only invaded Belgium because Great Britain and
France were about to do so, and she wished to be ahead of them. There is
not a particle of truth in this excuse.
* * * * *
[Illustration: The Scrap of Paper.
This is a copy of the really important part of the treaty of 1839 which
guaranteed the neutrality of Belgium. It is signed by the
representatives of Britain, Belgium, Austria, France, Prussia, and
Russia. The French words which are written above the seals may be
translated as follows: "Belgium, within the limits indicated by Articles
I., II., and IV., shall form an independent and perpetually neutral
State. She will be bound to observe this same neutrality towards all the
other States."]
_At 11 p.m. on the 4th of August Great Britain declared war on Germany._
The order for placing the British Army on a war footing was signed the
same day, and immediately all the reservists of the Regular army and the
Territorials were called to the colours. At once the country became an
armed camp. Everywhere we heard the tramp of soldiers, the rattle of
moving guns, and the rumble of baggage trains. The railways passed into
the hands of the Government, and time-tables were suspended in order
that the troops might be moved to and fro without loss of time. The
Territorials took over the work of home defence, and guards were
stationed at arsenals, reservoirs, bridges, and docks. The country was
so full of German spies that it was feared attempts would be made to do
damage to the railways and other important public works; but thanks to
the careful guard kept by our citizen soldiers, no harm was done. Even
the Boy Scouts, whose motto is "Be Prepared," were pressed into service.
In a hundred different ways they proved useful, especially as
messengers.
Next day Lord Kitchener was appointed Secretary of War, with the
approval of the whole nation. Everybody felt that the right man was in
the right place, and that he would see us through. It is said that, when
he entered the War Office for the first time as Secretary, he asked the
porter, "Is there a bed here?" "No, sir," replied the man. "Then get
one," he said, clearly showing that he meant to spend his nights as
well as his days in the laborious work of raising armies and fitting
them for the work of war. At the same time Sir John Jellicoe[173] was
appointed to command the Grand Fleet in home waters.
[Illustration: Sir John Jellicoe.
Our artist has here shown him as "the man at the wheel," for he is in
supreme command of the Grand Fleet in home waters. He is fifty-five
years of age, and has been in the Navy for forty-two years. He has the
full confidence of every officer and man in the service, and Britons
everywhere believe that he will uphold the fame of the great admirals
who gave Britain command of the seas.]
* * * * *
On the 6th of August the Prime Minister asked the House of Commons for a
war vote of a hundred millions of money, and seized the occasion to
reply to the question, What are we fighting for? In the first place, he
said, we are fighting to keep our solemn promise--a promise which, had
it been made between private persons in the ordinary course of life,
would have been thought so binding in law and honour that no
self-respecting man would have dreamed of setting it aside. In the
second place, we are fighting on behalf of the little nations. When
their safety has been guaranteed by treaty, we are determined that they
shall not be crushed out of existence by any Power, however strong and
over-mastering it may be. No nation, he said, has ever entered into a
great war with a clearer conscience or with a more certain knowledge
that it is fighting for the right. We are not battling for power or land
or gold, not even for our own selfish interests, but we are struggling
to maintain that good faith amongst the nations without which the world
would sink back into barbarism.
The war vote was at once granted, and it was quickly agreed that the
Army should be increased by half a million men. On the next day Lord
Kitchener called for a first army of 100,000 men, and instantly recruits
of high quality came flocking to the colours. Men waited in front of the
London recruiting offices hour after hour for days together, in order to
offer their services to the country. From the Colonies and from India
came the most loyal of messages, and the most generous offers of men and
money. The whole Empire was united as never before, in this the most
righteous war that has ever been waged.
I have already told you that there was what is called a "run" upon the
Bank of England at the prospect of war. In order that the nation should
be steadied at this crisis, the Bank Holiday was continued for three
days longer, and an order was made that no one need pay his business
debts for a month. To keep gold in the banks for the service of the
Government, paper money was introduced, and postal orders passed from
hand to hand instead of coin. The newspapers were not allowed to print
anything they pleased about the war, for fear that the enemy might gain
important information. All war news was to be passed by what is called a
censor before being printed.
[Footnote 165: The rate which the Bank of England charges for giving
ready money for a legal promise to pay money at a future date. The rise
of the bank rate shows that money is scarce; its fall, that money is
plentiful.]
[Footnote 166: Sailors who have left the Navy, but must return to it
when required to do so.]
[Footnote 167: The Territorials are citizen soldiers from 17 to 35 years
of age, who enlist for four years, and may be required to serve in any
part of the United Kingdom, but not out of it without their own consent.
They must put in a certain number of drills each year, and attend an
annual camp. At the outbreak of war they numbered about 250,000.]
[Footnote 168: _Lon-wee´_, fortified town of France on the Belgian
border, called by Louis the Fourteenth the "iron gate of France."]
[Footnote 169: _See-ra-lay-Forge_, manufacturing town in France, 33
miles east of Nancy.]
[Footnote 170: In the House of Commons the party or parties which
support the Government sit on the Speaker's right; the party or parties
which oppose the Government sit on the Speaker's left.]
[Footnote 171: Those Irishmen who desire Home Rule for Ireland.]
[Footnote 172: Residence of the German Ambassador in London. It was in
Carlton House Terrace.]
[Footnote 173: Born 1859. He has been in the Navy since 1872, and has
seen service in Egypt, and in China where he was wounded. When called to
take chief command of the Fleet he was Second Sea Lord at the Admiralty,
the headquarters of the Navy in Whitehall, London.]