2

The July Crisis

The Archduke Franz Ferdinand anticipated that Sunday, 28 June, would be a memorable occasion, providing him with the opportunity to make a triumphal procession through the streets of Sarajevo, with cheering crowds gathered along his route and ending with a speech by the mayor congratulating him and the Habsburg monarchy for their beneficent rule in Bosnia. As heir to the throne, Franz Ferdinand expected to succeed his aged uncle and become emperor of Austria and king of Hungary sometime soon. The date of 28 June was an auspicious one and had not been chosen casually: it was the anniversary of the battle of Kosovo in 1389, which had marked the triumph of the Turks over the medieval Serbian kingdom and relegated the provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina to a state of vassalage within the Ottoman Empire for almost 500 years. The archduke, who was to appear resplendent in his uniform as inspector general of the army, intended to remind the people of Sarajevo that they owed their liberation from Turkish rule to Austria-Hungary, which had occupied the provinces in 1878 and then annexed them outright in 1908.¹

Franz Ferdinand was to make a triumphal procession in an open limousine from the railway station to the splendid new city hall, the neo-Moorish Vijećnica, which had been designed to evoke the Alhambra as an element of Austria’s ‘neo-Orientalist’ policy, designed to cultivate the support of Bosnian Muslims. He was to be accompanied by his wife, the duchess Sophie, who was to be elegantly attired in a full-length white dress, tied at the waist with a red sash, holding a parasol in her leather-gloved hand, embellished with furs and a magnificent hat. The Muslim mayor of Sarajevo had issued a proclamation calling on the people of the city to demonstrate their affection for the royal couple, urging them to decorate their homes, to fly the imperial flag and to display pictures of the emperor and his nephew. In order to encourage spectators, the route of the procession had been published in the local newspaper, the Bosnische Post, beforehand.

Rumours had been circulating for months that the archduke’s visit might provoke Serbian nationalists to undertake some dramatic act. Serbia’s minister in Vienna had warned the Austrian government that young Serbs might regard the time and place of the visit as a deliberate affront. Local politicians and Austrian officials in Bosnia had suggested to Vienna that the visit be cancelled. The police in Sarajevo had warned that they could not guarantee the archduke’s safety. But Franz Ferdinand was not to be dissuaded. More than political symbolism was involved in his decision to proceed: 28 June was also the anniversary of the humiliating ‘oath of renunciation’ that he had been forced to swear in order to receive his uncle’s approval of his marriage to Sophie. According to the customs of the Habsburg family, she was an unsuitable match for the heir to the throne, as her family was merely aristocratic – not noble, not Habsburg nor descended from one of the ruling dynasties of Europe. The emperor had reluctantly agreed to a ‘morganatic’ marriage: neither Sophie nor her offspring would possess the titles and rights that would normally have come with such a marriage. Neither she nor their children could succeed to the throne. She was routinely denigrated and humiliated after her marriage to the archduke; she ranked lower in precedence than the youngest Habsburg archduchess. In royal processions her husband would come first, she last, walking alone, without an escort; she was not permitted to sit at the head table at state dinners, and could not share the royal box when attending the theatre or the opera.

The triumphal visit to Sarajevo as envisioned by the archduke promised to offer him the rare opportunity of seeing Sophie treated with the respect that he believed she was due. The motorcade that morning was to consist of six automobiles, with the archduke and the duchess seated next to one another in the third car, facing the military governor of the province, General Potiorek, and the owner of the limousine, Count Harrach. The duchess was to take a place of honour next to the archduke when he addressed the dignitaries at city hall. But, by the time that the royal party set off on its journey through the city, seven would-be assassins were already mingling with the gathering crowds, waiting for their arrival.

Ten minutes before the motorcade reached one of the bridges a suspicious policeman approached one of the would-be assassins and demanded that he identify himself. Nedeljko Čabrinović, who produced a permit that purported to have been issued by the Viennese police, had the nerve to ask the policeman which car would be carrying the archduke. ‘The third’ was the answer. A few minutes later Čabrinović removed a grenade from his coat pocket, knocked off the detonator cap and threw it at the limousine carrying the archduke and the duchess. Because there was a 12-second delay between knocking off the cap and the explosion, the grenade first hit the limousine, then bounced off and rolled under the next car before finally exploding. General Potiorek’s aide-de-camp was injured, along with several spectators. The duchess suffered a slight wound to her cheek, having been grazed by the grenade’s detonator.

Čabrinović immediately swallowed a cyanide capsule and jumped over the embankment into the river. But the poison failed to kill him and the river had been reduced to a mere trickle in mid-summer. He was quickly captured by a policeman who asked him if he was a Serb. ‘Yes, I am a Serb hero’, he replied.²

The procession continued the journey to the city hall where the mayor began to read the effusive speech he had prepared – apparently unaware of the near calamity that had just occurred. The archduke interrupted him, demanding to know how the mayor could speak of ‘loyal subjects’ of the crown when a bomb had just been thrown at him. The duchess managed to calm down the volatile archduke while they waited for a staff officer to arrive with a copy of his speech which, when it was eventually handed to him, was splattered in blood. After the reception which followed the speeches, the archduke insisted on visiting the wounded officer at the military hospital. The duchess decided to accompany her husband: ‘It is in time of danger that you need me.’³

The automobile carrying the royal couple to the hospital was preceded by one carrying the chief of police and others. In order to reach the hospital, the motorcade was forced to retrace its earlier route. A second assassin, Gavril Princip, who had almost abandoned his mission after Čabrinović’s arrest, was still waiting around when the two cars unexpectedly appeared in front of him. The driver of the first car had mistakenly taken a right turn, following the earlier route; the driver of the second car followed him. When General Potiorek, in the first car, recognized the mistake, he ordered his driver to stop. The car then began to reverse slowly. Seizing this unexpected opportunity, Princip stepped out of the crowd. Because it was too difficult to take the grenade out of his coat and knock off the detonator cap, he took aim with his revolver. His first shot hit the archduke near the jugular vein; the second hit the duchess in the stomach. ‘Soferl, Soferl!’ Franz Ferdinand cried, ‘Don’t die. Live for our children’.⁴ But the duchess was already dead by the time they reached the governor’s residence. The archduke, unconscious when he was carried inside, was also dead within minutes – before either a doctor or a priest could be summoned.

Although it was a Sunday, by that evening news of the assassination had rocketed around the capitals of Europe. Princip and Čabrinović had been arrested, charged, taken to the military prison and put in chains; Čabrinović’s family, residing in Sarajevo, had been rounded up and arrested, along with those they employed in their family-owned café. Groups of young Croatian and Muslim men soon began to gather and march through Sarajevo, singing the Bosnian anthem and shouting ‘Down with the Serbs’. About 100 of them stoned the Hotel Europa, which was owned by a prominent Serb and frequented by Serbian intellectuals.

On Monday morning Croat and Muslim leaders held a rally in Sarajevo to demonstrate their support for Austrian rule. The demonstrators sang the national anthem of the monarchy and carried portraits of the emperor. Sporadic demonstrations soon escalated into full-scale rioting. Crowds began smashing windows of Serbian businesses and organizations, ransacking the Serbian school, stoning the residence of the head of the Serbian Orthodox Church in Sarajevo and besieging the homes of prominent Serbs.

In Vienna on Monday a crowd gathered at the Serbian legation and police had to be called in to protect the staff. Behind the scenes the chief of the general staff of the Austro-Hungarian army was already insisting that the monarchy must ‘draw the sword’ against Serbia.⁵ By Tuesday Count Berchtold, the Habsburg foreign minister (and virtual prime minister of the Dual Monarchy) was convinced that the conspiracy to assassinate the archduke had been planned in Belgrade with the collusion of the Serbian government. But how would he respond? Would he join the chief of staff in proposing to the emperor that they should prepare for war against Serbia? Was the monarchy in a position to run the risk of war? If they attacked Serbia how would the Russians react? If the Russians took the side of the Serbs would the Austrians be able to rely upon the support of their German allies to counter such a move?

For those who wished to seize the opportunity to strike against Serbia, the immediate signs were not encouraging. The first reaction of the German ambassador in Vienna was to counsel restraint. When he met with Berchtold on Tuesday, ambassador Tschirschky advised him not to act in haste, to decide exactly what he wished to achieve and to weigh his options carefully.⁶ At the same time, in Berlin, the acting head of the German foreign office, under-secretary of state Arthur Zimmerman, confided to the Italian ambassador that he feared the Austrians might adopt ‘severe and provocative’ measures, in which case Germany might be forced to restrain them.⁷

On Wednesday, three days after the assassination, Serbia’s prime minister, Nikolai Pašić, instructed Serbian diplomats throughout Europe to explain that his government, which had previously taken steps to suppress anarchic elements within Serbia, now promised to redouble its vigilance. Severe measures would be taken against such troublemakers: ‘Serbia will do everything in her power and use all the means at her disposal in order to restrain the feelings of ill-balanced people within her frontiers.’⁸ Pašić, who was in the midst of an election campaign, believed that over-zealous nationalists were plotting to overthrow him and he welcomed the opportunity to take steps against them.

But would the assurances offered by the Serbian government be enough to satisfy the Austrians? There seemed to be signs that they might. The German ambassador in Vienna doubted that the Austrians would go farther than demanding that Serbia cooperate in an investigation into the conspiracy that had led to the assassination. At the same time, the powerful prime minister of Hungary was urging Emperor Franz Josef not to use the assassination as an excuse for a ‘reckoning’ with Serbia, arguing that it could be a fatal mistake for the monarchy to act militarily without proof that the Serbian government had been complicit in the plot.⁹ Count Berchtold, although widely regarded as intelligent and charming, had established a reputation as a cautious, ineffective and weak foreign minister – which made it seem unlikely that he would risk embarking on an adventurous policy that might jeopardize the very existence of the monarchy. Most indications in the immediate aftermath of the assassination therefore pointed to a peaceful resolution. Days after the assassination, there was no sign of an impending crisis.¹⁰ Perhaps a brief investigation of the circumstances that produced the conspiracy would be followed by a swift trial of the conspirators; perhaps, if Serbia were to impose stringent measures to restrain its most zealous nationalists a crisis could be averted.

Berchtold was expected to move cautiously. Since the Balkan crisis of 1912, he had embraced Sir Edward Grey’s policy of utilizing the ‘concert of Europe’ to resolve diplomatic disputes. At the same time, he had become frustrated with the policy pursued by the Germans in the Balkans: they had supported Italy in its war with Turkey in spite of Austrian opposition to Italian aggrandizement and they had resisted his efforts to strengthen the Triple Alliance by drawing Bulgaria into it. When, in the spring of 1914, he had suggested the use of force to prevent the unification of Serbia and Montenegro, the kaiser had dismissed his idea as ‘crazy’.¹¹ Berchtold’s amicable relationship with Britain and his lack of confidence in Germany’s co-operation in the Balkans suggested that he would be inclined to avoid a confrontation.

But Berchtold confounded his critics.¹² He began to prepare Austria’s response by turning to a memorandum that had been prepared recently at the foreign ministry which offered guidance on how Austria might meet the growing threat of Russia in the Balkans. A section chief within the office, the hawkish Baron Franz von Matscheko, warned in the memorandum that the Balkan situation was threatening the very existence of the monarchy.¹³ Although Bulgaria was now inclined to establish a closer relationship with the Triple Alliance, Serbia, which was entirely under Russian influence and had enormously increased its size and strength as a result of its victories in the Balkan wars, would become an even greater threat if it were to succeed in uniting with Montenegro. Moreover, Romania, a secret partner in the Triple Alliance, was currently acting in unison with Serbia and might align itself with Russia in the future. Turkey, which shared a ‘natural community of interests’ with Austria, had been pushed out of Europe and no longer functioned as a counterweight to Russia and the independent states of the Balkans. Russia, Matscheko argued, was aiming to form a Balkan League to counter the Triple Alliance. The memorandum outlined a long-term strategy to counter these threats to the monarchy but, immediately following the assassination of the archduke, Matscheko and a colleague began revising it, transforming it into a call for action.

Berchtold used the revised memorandum to plead for Germany’s support in coercing Serbia. The new version argued that while Russia intended to encircle (Einkreisungstendenzen) Austria, its ultimate goal was to threaten Germany by achieving political and commercial supremacy in eastern Europe. Berchtold drafted a ‘personal’ message for the emperor to send to the kaiser. Written in Franz Josef’s own hand, the letter asserted that the crime committed at Sarajevo had resulted directly from the agitation of ‘Russian and Serbian Panslavists’ who were determined to weaken the Triple Alliance and ‘shatter my empire’. The Serbian government aimed to unite all the Slavs of southern Europe under the Serbian flag, which posed a lasting danger ‘to my house and to my lands’.¹⁴ Although it might be impossible to prove the complicity of the Serbian government in the assassination, the emperor had no doubt that the plot could be traced back to Belgrade.

Franz Josef did not ask for German support in a war against Serbia. The monarchy’s aim, he said, was to ‘isolate’ Serbia and to reduce its size. This could be achieved diplomatically, by bringing Bulgaria into the fold of the Triple Alliance. Berchtold, along with most of his staff at the foreign office, was convinced that allying with Bulgaria would tilt the balance of power in the Balkans to their advantage. The original Matscheko memorandum had asserted that if Bulgaria, joined by Turkey, aligned with the Triple Alliance it might convince Romania to abandon its flirtation with Russia and announce publicly its membership in the alliance, leaving Serbia surrounded and isolated. The emperor explained this strategy in his letter to the kaiser: if Bulgaria joined the alliance it would be impossible ‘for a Balkan league to be founded under the patronage of Russia’, Romania might then abandon ‘the dangerous road into which the friendship with Serbia has led it’ and a new Balkan league could then be formed ‘under the patronage of the Triple Alliance, whose aim would be to stop the progress of the panslavist flood and ensure lasting peace for our countries’.¹⁵ Thus, the first tactical move by the Austrian government aimed to utilize the assassination to score a diplomatic victory by strengthening and expanding the Triple Alliance, by isolating and diminishing Serbia.

The letter from the emperor to the kaiser was the first important step in what would become the July Crisis. Whether the Austrians believed they could depend upon German support for their Balkan diplomacy would determine how far they were prepared to go in confronting Serbia. If Germany were to refuse its support for a vigorous Austrian response, it was unlikely that the situation would escalate into an international crisis. Moreover, the Bulgarian initiative, which was key to the Austrian strategy, would have to overcome the personal opposition of the kaiser: Wilhelm despised King Ferdinand of Bulgaria, and Germany had hitherto resisted Austrian pleas to draw Bulgaria into the Triple Alliance.¹⁶ But perhaps the assassination and the possibility of isolating Serbia offered an opportunity to change the German position.

While Austria was aiming to score a diplomatic victory in the Balkans, the politicians and diplomats of France, Russia and Britain (the so-called Triple Entente) gave no indication that they anticipated a crisis was about to erupt. When the French cabinet met on Tuesday, two days following the assassination, the Balkan situation was barely mentioned. The French ambassador in Vienna reported to Paris that while there were some in Austrian official circles who were demanding revenge against Serbia, the emperor could be counted on to restrain them. Austria, he concluded, was not likely to go any farther than issuing some threats.¹⁷ His colleague in Vienna, the Russian ambassador, agreed with this optimistic assessment: he refused to believe that the Austrian government would allow itself to be rushed into a war for which it was not prepared. In London, the permanent under-secretary of state at the foreign office doubted that Austria would embark on any ‘serious’ action.

While Entente diplomatists calmly dismissed the possibility that Austria would respond aggressively to the assassination, by the next weekend Count Berchtold was despatching his chef de cabinet, Count Alexander Hoyos, on a special mission to Berlin. Hoyos, arriving in Berlin on Sunday, precisely one week following the assassination, carried with him the emperor’s personal letter to the kaiser along with the – now revised – Matscheko memorandum on the Balkan situation. Hoyos was one of a group of ‘hawks’ at the foreign ministry who, for several years, had been advocating an aggressive foreign policy in the Balkans as an antidote to the monarchy’s apparent decline. Before leaving for Berlin he told a German journalist that he believed Austria must seize this opportunity to ‘solve’ the Serbian problem. But, he added, in order to do so they needed a German promise to ‘cover our rear’.¹⁸ Apart from the strategic necessity of German support, the powerful minister-president of Hungary, István Tisza, whose agreement was essential if any decisive action were to be undertaken, had made it clear that he would not agree to any aggressive steps being taken against Serbia unless there was a guarantee of German support.

In Berlin that Sunday, the Germans appeared to offer the Austrians the support that they were seeking. When Hoyos arrived there on the morning of the 5th, he met with the Austrian ambassador, Count László Szögyény-Marich, to brief him on the documents he had brought with him. Afterwards, he discussed the situation over lunch at the Wilhelmstrasse with Arthur Zimmerman while Szögyény met with the kaiser at Sanssouci palace in Potsdam. Although Wilhelm II expressed some concern that severe measures against Serbia might lead to serious complications, he nevertheless promised that Austria could rely upon ‘the full support’ of Germany and suggested that it would be regrettable if Austria failed to seize the moment ‘which is so favourable to us’. He did not believe that the Russians were prepared to fight, but if it came to war he assured the Austrian ambassador that Germany would ‘stand at our side’.¹⁹ On the other hand, on the proposed diplomatic initiative to draw Bulgaria into the Triple Alliance, the kaiser reiterated his opinion that neither King Ferdinand nor his ministers could be trusted. Although he would not object to a treaty between Austria and Bulgaria, he insisted that this must not offend the Romanians and that they must be informed of the initiative. These complicated calculations concerning the future of alliances and alignments in the Balkans are frequently overlooked in discussions of the July Crisis. But they were critical factors in the diplomacy of the participants.

The kaiser’s encouragement to the Austrians that Sunday has achieved legendary status as a ‘blank cheque’ with which Germany promised them military assistance without any reservations.²⁰ The promise to ‘stand by’ Austria was, under the circumstances, made with little reflection or careful scrutiny. The assumption underlying the promise was quite simple: no one – especially the tsar of Russia – was likely to take up arms in defence of assassins and terrorists, which would leave the Serbian government in an untenable position.²¹ Without Russian support Serbia would be isolated and unable to refuse stringent demands that would limit its ability to cause Austria difficulty in the future. The kaiser told the Austrian ambassador that he would have to discuss the situation with his chancellor before his assurances could be considered official.

Wilhelm met that evening with his chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann Hollweg (who had to be summoned to Potsdam from his country estate at Hohenfinow), under-secretary Zimmerman, and Count Erich von Falkenhayn, the Prussian minister of war and chief of the kaiser’s military cabinet.²² His advisors assured him that Russia was unlikely to intervene in a dispute between Austria and Serbia and, in addition, neither Bethmann nor Falkenhayn believed that the Austrians were ‘really in earnest’.²³ The chief of the general staff, currently on vacation, was advised that war was unlikely to arise from the affair and that he should remain at his spa retreat; the kaiser was encouraged to begin a Baltic cruise the next day as planned. There was little or no indication from anyone in the kaiser’s inner circle that they had made a momentous decision in issuing the ‘blank cheque’, nothing to indicate that they might soon find themselves at war, nor that the assurances that they were giving to the Austrians might imperil the future of the Hohenzollern monarchy.

The kaiser’s position was confirmed the next day by his chancellor. When Bethmann met with Count Hoyos and the Austrian ambassador on Monday afternoon, he assured them that Germany would stand by Austria ‘shoulder-to-shoulder’. He agreed with the central argument of the memorandum that Hoyos had presented to him, that Russia was attempting to form a ‘Balkan League’ and that this threatened the interests of the Triple Alliance. And he went farther than the kaiser in supporting Austria’s Bulgarian initiative, promising that the German minister in Sofia would join the Austrian minister in inducing Bulgaria to join the Triple Alliance. Furthermore, he promised to direct the German minister in Bucharest to inform King Karl of Romania of these negotiations and advise him to stop the ‘Romanian agitation’ against Austria.²⁴ As far as alliance diplomacy in the Balkans was concerned, the kaiser and his chancellor were not moving together in lock-step.

Bethmann told the Austrians that he would leave it to them to decide how to proceed in dealing with Serbia, but that they ‘may always be certain that Germany will remain at our side as a faithful friend and ally’.²⁵ His words were crucial. Whereas Kaiser Wilhelm was famous for his bombastic style and explosive temperament, his chancellor was well known for his steady, cautious and phlegmatic disposition. He had earlier warned the crown prince that unleashing a war without a compelling reason would risk both the Hohenzollern monarchy and the future of Germany: ‘to rattle the sabre at any diplomatic entanglement without having honor, security, or the future of Germany endangered is not only bold beyond reason, but criminal’.²⁶ The assurances of Germany’s support for Austria from the kaiser and his chancellor in Berlin on 5–6 July were not as clear-cut as legend would have it: they were vague and grounded on the assumption that a quick and vigorous Austrian response would lead not to war but to a diplomatic victory and a reconfiguration of the balance of power in the Balkans in favour of the Triple Alliance.²⁷

Bethmann said he would leave it to the Austrians to determine how to proceed with Serbia, but he emphasized that they should move quickly. The kaiser sought the advice of his military advisors only after the meeting with Szögyény, explaining that ‘serious consequences’ might arise from Austria’s determination to end the ‘Greater-Serbia propaganda’. The war minister assured him that Germany was ready for all contingencies, but the kaiser instructed that no preparations were needed, suggesting that a diplomatic solution to the crisis was the most likely outcome, and that if it came to war it would likely be localized. His almost perfunctory treatment of the matter ‘would suggest that he did not anticipate an escalation of any Austro-Serb conflict’.²⁸ Hoyos departed on the night train from Berlin on the 6th and arrived in Vienna the next morning.

Austria-Hungary prepares an ultimatum

With Germany’s encouragement, the Austrians did move quickly. On the morning of the 7th, Berchtold met with Hoyos, Tisza and the Austrian prime minister, Count Karl Stürgkh, to prepare for a meeting of the common ministerial council later that day. He invited the German ambassador to join them. Hoyos read to them a memorandum that he had drawn up following his meeting with Zimmerman, as well as one produced by Szögyény on his meeting with the kaiser. Berchtold was elated by their reports and asked Ambassador Tschirschky to convey to the kaiser and his chancellor his sincere gratitude for their assurances which were ‘so clearly in accord with the bonds of alliance and the dictates of friendship’.²⁹ Berchtold, perhaps prompted by Tisza, did point out that a comment made by Hoyos during his conversation with Zimmerman to the effect that Austria was contemplating a partition of Serbia was only Hoyos’ personal opinion and did not represent government policy. What precisely Austria had in mind for the future of Serbia remained unclear.

The meeting of the common ministerial council that afternoon was momentous.³⁰ Constitutionally, the meeting should have been chaired by the emperor, but the ageing Franz Josef who had gotten into the habit of turning this responsibility over to his foreign minister, had departed on the five-hour train journey to his country retreat at Bad Ischl – where he would remain for the next three weeks. Berchtold was left to preside over the council’s discussion and then report to the emperor.

Attending the meeting were the premiers of Austria and Hungary (Stürgkh and Tisza) and the two additional ‘common’ ministers: Leon Ritter von Biliński (minister of finance) and Alexander Ritter von Krobatin (minister of war).³¹ Hoyos was there to take minutes. The purpose of the meeting was to determine precisely how far and how fast they should move against Serbia. While the discussions in Berlin over the previous two days had been hastily improvised and almost casual, the discussion in Vienna was detailed and intense. Berchtold began by proposing to the ministers that the moment had arrived for them to decide whether or not to seize this opportunity to render Serbia’s intrigues harmless forever (für immer unschädlich zu machen). He made his own opinion abundantly clear. He argued that such an opportunity was unlikely to arise again: Serbia had clearly placed itself in the wrong, Russia was unlikely to defend regicides and now, he was able to assure the ministers, Germany had promised to support the monarchy in the event of ‘warlike complications’. If they backed away from vigorous action against Serbia now, the monarchy’s south-Slav subjects and the Romanians would interpret such inaction as a sign of weakness. Austria must act now if it was to avoid another blow to its reputation as a great power.

While the assembled ministers generally agreed with Berchtold that a vigorous response was required, Tisza expressed his doubts. Fearing that they might be moving too quickly, he argued that they should prepare the diplomatic ground carefully before undertaking any dramatic step. He refused to countenance the idea of a surprise attack on Serbia, which Hoyos appeared to have suggested in Berlin. He argued that a peremptory attack would discredit Austria in the eyes of Europe and throughout the Balkans. Bulgaria alone was likely to support such a move, but it was still reeling from its losses in the Second Balkan War and unable to render any effective assistance to Austria. Romania, on the other hand, in spite of their secret adherence to the Triple Alliance, might seize the moment to attack Austria. Russia would ‘fight to the death’ to save Serbia.

Tisza proposed an alternative course of action. Austria should proceed cautiously, beginning with the presentation to Serbia of a list of demands. While he was willing to see Serbia reduced in size, he was prepared neither to annihilate it nor to annex any part of it. If Serbia were to accept the demands that he had in mind, the monarchy would score a splendid diplomatic victory and immensely increase its prestige. He refused to believe that war was necessary at the moment, and only if Serbia were to reject Austria’s demands would he be prepared to vote for it.³² A profound humiliation of Serbia would decidedly improve Austria’s position in the Balkans, which ought to be regarded as a sufficient achievement.

Berchtold, prudent and cautious throughout his diplomatic career, argued against the Hungarian minister-president, insisting that Austria needed more than a diplomatic victory. After all, although the monarchy had triumphed diplomatically in the 1908 annexation crisis and had succeeded in creating an independent Albania, the monarchy’s standing in the Balkans had deteriorated nevertheless. They still faced the fundamental problem of the propaganda promoting a Greater Serbia that emanated from Belgrade. The principle of nationality posed a threat to the multinational empire that could be eradicated only by the application of military force.

Tisza also insisted that some of the problems in Bosnia and Herzegovina were of Austria’s own making, that the military administration there was a failure and that a programme of internal reforms was required to pacify the provinces. The Austrian premier agreed with General Potiorek’s assessment that such a programme would accomplish nothing unless combined with a forceful strike against Serbia. Stürgkh argued that it might be impossible to retain the provinces unless the monarchy dealt with Serbia ‘at the point of the sword’. Moreover, they could not afford to overlook Germany’s promise of unreserved loyalty and the advice that they ought to act quickly; if Austria appeared weak and hesitant now, it might cost them Germany’s support in the future. Although performing a diplomatic manoeuvre might be deemed necessary for international reasons, they should proceed on the premise that diplomacy could only end in war.

Biliński, the minister of finance and responsible for the administration of Bosnia and Herzegovina, agreed with Stürgkh. Austria could now rely upon Germany, and a decisive conflict with Serbia was unavoidable. A mere diplomatic victory was insufficient. The Serbs would not respond ‘to anything but force’. And his view was reinforced by that of Krobatin. The minister of war argued that a diplomatic victory would be interpreted as weakness. The balance of forces favoured Austria at the moment, but this would shift against them over time. He proposed that they immediately begin by secretly mobilizing against Serbia.

The discussion went on for hours. Everyone but Tisza insisted that a diplomatic victory was insufficient, that even a glaring humiliation of Serbia would be unsatisfactory. But the number of voices arrayed against the Hungarian minister-president was immaterial because he wielded the power of a virtual veto: constitutionally, Austria-Hungary could not go to war without Hungary’s approval, which meant obtaining Tisza’s consent in advance. He continued to insist that reforms were necessary in Bosnia, that it must be in an indescribably poor condition if six or seven assassins who were known to the police could line the route of the royal procession armed with revolvers and grenades. War at this moment would be a terrible calamity, whereas a diplomatic victory might add Bulgaria to the Triple Alliance and perhaps, in the future, Russia would be distracted from the Balkans by difficulties facing it in Asia.

Berchtold disagreed. He argued that the moment to strike had arrived, that Austria’s enemies were preparing for a decisive conflict. Romania could no longer be counted upon: in spite of its secret adherence to the Triple Alliance, it was co-operating with the Entente powers and could not be won back as long as the agitation for a greater Serbia continued. He argued that the way to end the agitation for both a Greater Serbia and a Greater Romania was the annihilation of Serbia.

But Tisza refused to budge, and the council had little choice but to agree to his proposal that they formulate a set of demands to present to Serbia. On the other hand, they also agreed that their demands should be so stringent as to make refusal ‘almost certain’ and thereby open the door to a military solution. Tisza agreed with this premise but pleaded that the demands ought not to appear to have been designed in such a way as to make acceptance impossible. Rather, he proposed that they should be framed in order to provide ‘a lawful basis for our declaration of war’. He insisted that he be given the text of the note conveying the demands before it was presented to Serbia. His closest advisor, Count Burian, noted that the council’s decision either meant war ‘or such a humiliation for Serbia that she is eliminated as a factor for some time’.³³ Nevertheless, Berchtold reported to the emperor after the meeting that the agreement reached by the council ‘would probably lead to war with Serbia’, a fact which even Tisza recognized. The rest of the council was unanimous in the belief that they should seize the opportunity ‘for warlike action against Serbia’. The next day, on Wednesday, 8 July, officials at the Ballhausplatz began working on a draft of the demands to be made on Serbia.

Austria’s German ally had stressed the need to move quickly, while Europe was still reeling from the shock of the assassination and while European sympathies – especially Russian – favoured the Austrians. But now military considerations complicated the Austrian timetable. The chief of the Austro-Hungarian general staff, Conrad von Hötzendorf, reported that a number of key military units throughout the empire had been released from duty when the army responded to complaints from landlords that those serving in the army were essential to bring in the harvest. The units were not scheduled to return to their barracks until 25 July. To recall them at this moment would be tantamount to a public declaration of mobilization for war. And, as the Austrians wished to avoid sending any such signal until they were ready to move, 22–23 July was established as the earliest possible date by which their demands could be presented to Serbia. Mobilization could not begin earlier than the 25th. An interval of two weeks before Austria presented its demands to Serbia was hardly the speedy response that the kaiser had advised in Berlin three days earlier. Assuming that the Serbs would reject the Austrian demands, more than three weeks would have passed between the assassination and the beginning of mobilization.

There was another disconnect between Vienna and Berlin at this moment. While the government in Vienna – with the possible exception of Tisza – was convinced that war was necessary and almost inevitable, in Berlin they seemed to be envisioning a great political triumph rather than a European war. Zimmerman, still acting in place of the absent secretary of state, explained to the Italian ambassador that Austria could not afford to be submissive when confronted by a Serbia ‘sustained or driven on by the provocative support of Russia’. He did not believe, however, that ‘a really energetic and coherent action’ on the part of Austria would lead to an armed conflict.³⁴ There was no suggestion here of a ‘preventive war’ against Russia, but rather a confident, almost complacent, assertion that Austria’s Serbian problem could be resolved in favour of the Triple Alliance.³⁵

But did Zimmerman speak for the government? The German ambassador in Vienna reported to Berchtold that the kaiser had instructed him to declare ‘emphatically’ [mit allem Nachdruck] that he expected Austria to act against Serbia, that it must not neglect this opportunity.³⁶ Negotiating with Serbia would be a confession of weakness. Berchtold assured him that Austria intended to present concrete demands to Serbia and that these would be of such a nature ‘as to preclude the possibility of their being accepted’.³⁷

What exactly the Austrians and the Germans envisioned for Serbia’s future is unclear. Putting together a set of demands that the Serbs could not accept would not be difficult. But what then? While some spoke of annihilation, Tisza had thus far been adamant that no Serb territory could be added to Austria-Hungary; more Slavs in the monarchy would only reduce Hungary’s equal partnership with the Germans of Austria in the ‘dual’ monarchy. Berchtold was still trying to persuade him to agree that they must act against Serbia: if Vienna were to vacillate now, it would be interpreted as a ‘sign of weakness’ in Berlin, which would damage Austria’s position within the alliance.³⁸

Berchtold’s arguments proved persuasive. The day after the council meeting Tisza advised the emperor that they must act.³⁹ After explaining why he had opposed an immediate attack on Serbia at the council meeting, he assured Franz Josef that he would support an attack on Serbia if it rejected Austria’s ‘just demands’. He then outlined what he believed should happen if it came to war: they should conquer Serbia and award parts of it to Bulgaria, Greece and Albania. Austria itself should not participate in the partition except for some minor strategic rectifications along the Serbian frontier. If Serbia did yield to pressure and agreed to the Austrian demands, Tisza believed they would have to accept the diplomatic victory and the blow to Serbia’s pride that this would entail.⁴⁰ At last, with Tisza at least, there was a fairly clear goal in view: the partition of much of Serbia. With Bulgaria, Greece and Albania within Austria’s orbit, Romania would likely choose to honour its commitments to the Triple Alliance, making Austria dominant in the Balkans and in a position to stop any expansion by Russia to the south.

A humiliating submission on the part of Serbia remained a possibility however. Tisza was adamant that the diplomatic ground must be prepared carefully in advance of any military action. The suggestion that Austria might attack Serbia immediately he dismissed as ‘unauthorized sabre-rattling’.⁴¹ So the task facing Austria at the moment was to come up with a list of demands. Berchtold sketched some preliminary ideas on what these might consist of: perhaps they should demand that an agency of the Austro-Hungarian government be established at Belgrade to monitor the machinations of the ‘Greater Serbia’ movement; perhaps they should insist that some nationalist organizations be dissolved; perhaps they should stipulate that certain army officers be dismissed. Once the list of demands was presented, perhaps they might give Serbia only 48 hours to decide whether to submit or resist. Berchtold assured the German ambassador that the demands would go so far that Serbia could not possibly accept them; he wondered what they would think of this strategy in Berlin.⁴²

Berlin chose not to think anything. Tschirschky was instructed to inform Berchtold that Germany could take no part in formulating the demands. Germany’s position now and henceforth was to be that the dispute was a purely Austro-Serbian affair, to be settled between the two parties themselves. Germany would studiously avoid anything that might give the appearance of directing Austrian diplomacy. Behind the scenes however the German chancellor worried that the restrained and pacific ‘old emperor’ in Vienna might decline to seize the opportunity that now beckoned. Bethmann believed that if it came to a general war the Triple Alliance would win; if it did not come to war because the tsar backed down or because the French counselled peace, this might break the Entente apart.⁴³ No one in Germany of any importance, not the chancellor, not the kaiser, not the war minister, not the chief of staff, made any effort to restrain Austria. Instead, they were united in calling for an energetic and determined response.⁴⁴ When the kaiser weighed in on Berchtold’s sketch of possible Austrian demands, he suggested that they were preferable to an immediate attack, but counselled that the demands should be unambiguous and go far enough to extinguish the Serbian threat to the dual monarchy and stop the Panslav agitation ‘for all time’.⁴⁵

Austria’s other alliance partners were much less encouraging. From the outset, the Italian foreign minister, Antonino Paternò-Castello, the Marchese di San Giuliano, had raised doubts about Austria’s case against Serbia: democratic countries, he argued, ‘could not be held accountable for the transgressions of the press’, and the Serbian government was not responsible for statements that appeared in newspapers.⁴⁶ Berchtold anticipated that if Austria were to move against Serbia, Italy was likely to demand compensation in return, and he urged Germany to dissuade the Italian government from any such expectation and argued that Italy should be kept in the dark concerning Austro-German diplomacy until the last moment, when the demands were presented to Serbia.⁴⁷ At the same time, the fourth – but secret – member of the Triple Alliance, Romania, was warning that it would not be able to meet its obligations to assist Austria. Karl, the Hohenzollern king of Romania, explained that Hungary’s treatment of its Romanian minority was so offensive that his subjects now regarded their (secret) ally as their primary enemy. He did not believe that the Serbian government was involved in the assassination, and he confided to the German ambassador that they seemed to have lost their heads in Vienna. He urged Berlin to exert its influence at the Ballhausplatz to extinguish the ‘pusillanimous spirit’ [kleinmütigen Stimmung] in the ascendance there.

In the midst of deciding how to proceed to act against Serbia it now appeared that the Triple Alliance + Romania might be reduced to the original ‘Dual Alliance’ of Austria and Germany when the moment of decision came. This possibility was not inconsequential to the Austrians. Their war plans left the frontier with Romania undefended and they had long assumed that Romania would act as the front line in a war with Russia.

While the reservations of two of their allies were causing strategic headaches for the Austrians, their hopes of pinning the guilt for the assassination directly on the Serbian government began to evaporate. The judge who had been sent to Sarajevo to investigate reported to Vienna on 13 July that he had been unable to unearth any evidence which would prove the complicity of the government in Belgrade. This added another complication because Tisza had attempted to calm growing fears in Budapest of a conflict (stocks on the Vienna exchange were falling dramatically) by declaring on the 9th in the Chamber of Deputies that no steps would be taken until the judicial inquiry was complete. Austria was now going to have greater difficulty justifying harsh demands on Serbia than it had anticipated. After all, every one of the conspirators arrested was a subject of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, not the kingdom of Serbia. Perhaps the view of the Russian foreign minister that the assassination had been perpetrated by immature young men acting on their own would come to be widely accepted. While this new complication loomed over Austria, the chief of the general staff was insisting that the government should avoid protracted diplomatic negotiations because this would provide their antagonists with valuable time to make military preparations. ‘Peaceful intentions should be feigned’, Conrad said, in order to avoid alarming their enemies. When Austria presented its demands it should permit only a short deadline and, in the case of a negative reply, proceed to mobilize immediately.⁴⁸ This scenario now emerged as the plan: no dramatic steps were to be taken that might alert potential enemies. Conrad departed for his annual vacation on the 13th and he was joined the next day by the minister of war. A similar aura of calm was maintained in Germany, where the chief of the general staff continued to take the waters at a spa, while the kaiser was advised not to interrupt his Baltic cruise.

The deception worked. There continued to be no sense of urgency among Entente diplomats in Vienna or Berlin, no dire warnings of a war to come, no indication that military preparations were called for. The British ambassador in Vienna reported that it was difficult to say what form the government’s reaction would take ‘and it may well be that they will hesitate to take a step which might lead to a position of great international tension’.⁴⁹ Although it was known that Austrian officials at the Ballhausplatz were working on a list of demands to be put to Serbia, the Serbian minister in Vienna saw no reason to anticipate that a threatening communication would be forthcoming.⁵⁰

But behind the façade of calm Austria and Germany were becoming more resolute in their determination to seize the opportunity to solve the Serbian threat to the integrity of the Dual Monarchy and to tilt the balance of forces in their favour in the Balkans. Franz Josef himself intervened to bring Tisza around, urging him to settle quickly his differences with the other ministers and proposing that the demands made on Serbia should be formulated ‘so that no loophole would be possible’. The time had arrived for a showdown with Serbia.⁵¹ The emperor’s personal intervention seems to have worked: shortly afterwards Tisza assured the German ambassador that he was now ‘firmly convinced’ that war was necessary, that the moment had arrived for Austria to demonstrate its vitality. Together with Germany they would ‘look the future calmly and firmly in the face’.⁵²

But another complication now emerged. Berchtold had to advise Berlin that the presentation of their demands on Serbia would have to be further delayed in light of the visit of the president and the premier of France to St Petersburg scheduled for 20–23 July. Obviously, it was undesirable to have the French leaders in face-to-face contact with their Russian allies at the moment when Austria presented its demands to Serbia. The foreign minister hastened to assure Germany that, in spite of the delay, ‘there was not a thought of hesitation or uncertainty’ in Vienna.⁵³ Bethmann promised Austria that his support was unwavering, even if it meant taking ‘a leap into the dark’.⁵⁴

The only discordant voice in Austro-German diplomatic and strategic circles was the one heard from London, where the German ambassador was warning Berlin of the consequences of supporting an aggressive Austrian initiative. British opinion, Prince Lichnowsky argued, had long supported the principle of nationality and their sympathies would ‘turn instantly and impulsively to the Serbs’ if the Austrians resorted to violence.⁵⁵ This was not the kind of advice that Berlin wished to hear, and the prince was informed that this might be the last opportunity for Austria to deal a death blow to the ‘menace of a Greater Serbia’ and that if Austria failed to seize the opportunity its prestige ‘will be finished’.⁵⁶ Nevertheless, Lichnowsky continued to insist that a war would neither solve Austria’s Slav problem nor extinguish the Greater Serb movement. By supporting Austria, Germany was risking everything for ‘mere adventure’.

The ambassador’s warnings fell on deaf ears. Instead of backing away from its promises of support for the Austrians, the German government encouraged them to offer compensation to Italy sufficient to induce it to stand together with its alliance partners. The secretary of state explained that this opportunity was Austria’s last chance for ‘rehabilitation’ and that, if it were to fail to meet the challenge, its standing as a Great Power would disappear forever. If this were to happen it would open the door to Russian hegemony in the Balkans – something that Germany could not permit. The greater the determination with which Austria acted, the more likely it was that Russia would remain quiet. Better to act now: in a few years Russia would be prepared to fight, and then ‘she will crush us by the number of her soldiers’.⁵⁷

Convinced that the assassination offered a golden opportunity to enhance the Austro-German position in the Balkans, the only thing likely to deter them from pursuing an aggressive policy was the threat of a vigorous response from the Entente powers. But there was no sign that the Entente was willing and able to act. Russia was plagued by social unrest: its major cities were beleaguered by strikes: since the beginning of the year over 3,000 had broken out; of 242,000 industrial workers in the capital of St Petersburg 180,000 of them were currently on strike. France was mesmerized by the upcoming trial of the wife of a cabinet minister who was accused of murdering a journalist. Britain was fearful that civil war might break out in Ulster over the Irish Home Rule Bill, currently before the House of Lords. And the advice the Entente powers received from their diplomats was not astute. The British ambassador in Vienna, for example, betrayed his ignorance of what was happening behind the scenes there: he discounted rumours that Austria was preparing to take military action against Serbia, arguing that it would be difficult to convince the peace-loving Franz Josef to embark on an ‘aggressive course of action’.⁵⁸

In fact, the Austrian government was preparing to embark on just such a course and it had the support of the emperor. On the morning of Sunday, 19 July, the ministers of the Austro-Hungarian common council arrived in unmarked cars at Berchtold’s private residence. Unlike their previous meeting, this time no controversy erupted. After a brief discussion the ministers were unanimous that the demands of the ultimatum to be presented to Serbia should be such that no nation that ‘possessed self-respect and dignity could possibly accept them’.⁵⁹ It was agreed that the note demanding Serbian compliance would be presented in Belgrade between 4 and 5 p.m. on Thursday the 25th, which would coincide with the departure of the French president and premier from Kronstadt. If Serbia failed to reply positively within 48 hours Austria would begin to mobilize its armed forces.

Tisza did raise one controversial issue at the meeting – that of Serbia’s future following a successful war. He wanted the monarchy to disavow any plans of territorial aggrandizement: apart from some slight rectifications along the frontier he insisted that no Serbian territory should be annexed. Berchtold argued against such a clear-cut disavowal: while he would agree that the monarchy itself would not annex Serbian territory he proposed to force it to surrender large portions of its existing territory to Bulgaria, Greece, Albania and Romania, thereby reducing its size so much that ‘it would cease to be dangerous’ [daß es nicht mehr gefährlich sei].⁶⁰ The ministers agreed that if war broke out Austria would renounce a war of conquest while reserving the right to make strategic frontier corrections and perhaps to reduce the extent of Serbian territory to the advantage of other states.

The Austrian government had now clearly established its goal. It would seize the opportunity of the assassination to reduce the size and strength of Serbia and render it harmless in the future by forestalling its ambitious aim of creating a Greater Serbia. Austria’s goal could be achieved by Serbia’s submission to a series of demands or, more likely, by its refusal to submit to them, followed by an Austrian attack. But the Austrian plan was to be kept secret, even from its allies. Germany was to be given the details of the ultimatum only after it had been presented to Serbia. In Berlin, they were beginning to complain of being kept in the dark. The Austrian ambassador there offered Berchtold his ‘humble opinion’ that the Germans ought to be given the details of the ultimatum immediately. After all, the kaiser ‘and all the others in high offices’ had loyally promised their support from the first; for Austria to now treat Germany in the same manner as all the other powers ‘might give offence’.⁶¹ Berchtold agreed: he would provide the German ambassador in Vienna with a copy of the ultimatum, the details of which should arrive at the Wilhelmstrasse shortly afterwards.

Rome, however, was to be kept in the dark. The Italians were only to be told that a note would be presented to the Serbs. Nevertheless, San Giuliano’s sources convinced him that Austria was carefully drafting its demands in such a way that they could not be accepted by Serbia.⁶² Immediately after the assassination the Italian foreign minister had believed that Franz Josef would act as a moderating influence in Vienna, but he now abandoned this idea and concluded that the Austrian government was determined to crush Serbia. He confided to the French ambassador that the Germans would make no effort to restrain the Austrians and that he had warned them that they were mistaken if they believed that Russia would stand by and allow Serbia to ‘be violated’.⁶³

Nevertheless, Entente diplomats remained oblivious to the signs of an impending crisis. The Russian ambassador in Vienna, who had delayed his annual leave because of the assassination, now believed that he could safely abandon his post for the next two or three weeks. His colleague, the French ambassador, predicted that the Austrian government would see the wisdom of avoiding armed conflict with Serbia, while his British counterpart continued to believe that ‘warlike complications’ would be avoided.⁶⁴ In London, Sir Edward Grey appeared to be reassured: he thought it likely that the Serbian government could be found negligent in permitting the assassination to be planned at Belgrade but, as long as Austria kept its demands within ‘reasonable limits’ a breach of the peace might be avoided.⁶⁵ It would be detestable if the great powers allowed themselves to ‘be dragged into a war’ by Serbia.⁶⁶ Nevertheless, Grey was ‘One of the few to have realized the gravity of the situation, almost from the moment the first news of the assassination reached London’.⁶⁷

The prospect of a peaceful resolution seemed less likely when viewed from the perspective of St Petersburg. The Russian foreign minister, Sergei Sazonov, warned everyone involved that Russia would not stand by while Serbia was annihilated. He told the German ambassador that he perceived ‘powerful and dangerous influences’ that might plunge them all into war and he blamed Austrian mismanagement of Bosnia for the agitation that had led to the assassination.⁶⁸ Russia would not remain indifferent if Austria attempted to take advantage of the situation. The Austrian ambassador, who had returned to St Petersburg on 20 July, warned Vienna that the imminent arrival of the French president would not have a ‘calming influence’ on Sazonov.⁶⁹

But the French seemed to doubt that Russia would take any forceful action. Although Poincaré, in the aftermath of the assassination, had issued some reassuring words to the effect that France would uphold its commitments to Russia, he confided to his diary his uncertainty that Russia would support Serbia.⁷⁰ After meeting with the Austrian ambassador in St Petersburg in the midst of the visit on the 21st, Poincaré concluded that Austria-Hungary was preparing a coup de théâtre, that ‘Sazonov needs to be firm and we need to support him’.⁷¹ Still, he did not appear to be unduly concerned with the situation in the Balkans.⁷² In Vienna, the French ambassador did not believe that Russia was likely to provide anything more than ‘moral’ support to Serbia. If it came to war between Austria and Serbia, Ambassador Dumaine predicted that Russia would not take an active part and would only attempt to ‘localize’ a conflict.⁷³

The ultimatum is presented

By Thursday, 23 July, 25 days had passed since the assassination. But now the prolonged period of rumours, speculations, discussions, half-truths and hypothetical scenarios was about to come to an end. The Habsburg imperial cabinet decided to close parliament, adjourn all provincial assemblies and revoke the parliamentary immunity of members, thereby shifting all responsibility to the government bureaucracy.⁷⁴ Then, at ‘the striking of the clock’ at 6 p.m. that evening the Austrian note was presented in Belgrade to the prime minister’s deputy, the chain-smoking Lazar Paču, who immediately arranged to see the Russian minister to beg for Russia’s help.⁷⁵ Even a quick glance at the demands contained in the note convinced the Serbian Crown Prince that he could not possibly accept them. The chief of the general staff and his deputy were recalled from their vacations; all divisional commanders were summoned to their posts; railway authorities were alerted that mobilization might be declared; regiments on the northern frontier were instructed to prepare assembly points for an impending mobilization. What would become the most famous diplomatic crisis in history was underway.

The next day, on Friday, 24 July, heads of state, heads of government, foreign ministers and ambassadors throughout Europe had discovered the extent of Austria’s demands on Serbia. The Austrian note began with a preamble which asserted that a ‘subversive movement’ to ‘disjoin’ parts of Austria-Hungary had grown ‘under the eyes’ of the Serbian government. This had led to terrorism, attempted murder and murder. Austria’s investigation of the assassination of the archduke had revealed that Serbian military officers and government officials were implicated in the crime. A list of 10 demands followed. Among other things, Serbia was to suppress all forms of propaganda aimed at Austria-Hungary, the Narodna Odbrana (Peoples’ Defense) was to be dissolved along with all other subversive societies; officers and officials who had participated in nationalist propaganda were to be dismissed, and Austrian officials were to assist in suppressing the subversive movements in Serbia and participate in a judicial inquiry into the assassination.

‘You are setting fire to Europe!’ was Sazonov’s immediate reaction when the note was read aloud to him in St Petersburg by the Austrian ambassador.⁷⁶ If Serbia were to comply with the demands, it would mean the end of its sovereignty. ‘What you want is war, and you have burnt your bridges behind you.’⁷⁷ Immediately after their conversation the Russian foreign minister took the unprecedented step of calling the tsar on the telephone to tell him that the Austrians clearly intended to attack Serbia and that, in order for them to have the confidence to do so, they must have received a promise of German support. Sazonov, Ambassador Szápáry reported, dismissed the premise that the crisis had anything to do with upholding the monarchical ideal; his attitude was ‘disagreeable and hostile’.⁷⁸ After speaking with Sazonov, Nicholas II instructed that the discussion at the council of ministers, scheduled to meet at 3 p.m. that afternoon, ought to shift its focus from the strikes that were sweeping Russia’s cities to the Austrian ultimatum.

Later that day Sazonov met with the British and French ambassadors over lunch at the French embassy to warn them that war appeared imminent. Austria’s conduct was provocative and immoral: some of the demands were impossible for Serbia to accept. The Austro-German coalition could be countered only if Russia, France and Britain acted in solidarity.⁷⁹ The French ambassador readily agreed, promising that France would support Russia diplomatically and fulfil the obligations of their alliance. Only the ‘solidarity of the Triple Entente’, Paléologue advised Paris, could deter the provocation of the ‘Germanic Powers’.⁸⁰ The French ambassador’s attitude was no surprise. As an official at the Quai d’Orsay in the 1890s he had participated in the negotiations that had produced the Franco-Russian alliance, and had been an outspoken advocate of it ever since. Since arriving in St Petersburg as ambassador in January 1914 he had repeatedly warned that Germany was attempting to drive a wedge between France and Russia and he advised Paris to counter this by persuading Britain to join their alliance.⁸¹

The British ambassador was not encouraging. Although Sir George Buchanan was an advocate of the entente, and although he had suggested that Britain should consider joining the Franco-Russian alliance in order to forestall a Russo-German rapprochement, he warned Sazonov that Britain was unlikely to promise Russia and France to support them by force of arms.⁸² He doubted that British public opinion would sanction a war fought on behalf of Serbia and he believed that Grey would do no more than warn Germany and Austria that an attack on Serbia would endanger European peace.⁸³ Sazonov insisted that, if Britain failed to make common cause with Russia and France from the outset, war was more likely. Buchanan concluded from this that the Russians were ‘determined to make a strong stand’.⁸⁴

When the Russian council met later that day Sazonov made an impassioned plea for firmness. Serbia was likely to ask for Russia’s advice and he wished to have his answer prepared. He argued that if Serbia complied with the Austrian demands, it would be transformed into a de facto protectorate of the central powers, and Russia’s prestige among the Slavs of southern Europe would collapse and it would henceforth be regarded as a second-rate power. On the other hand, supporting Serbia meant running the risk of war.⁸⁵ After a discussion lasting four hours it was agreed that Sazonov should advise Serbia to offer no resistance to an armed invasion; instead, it should announce that it was yielding to force and entrusting its fate to the Great Powers.⁸⁶ Meanwhile, Russia would seek an extension to the Austrian deadline while initiating preliminary steps in preparation for a possible military mobilization. When Sazonov met with the German ambassador later that day he warned that if Austria-Hungary devoured Serbia ‘we will go to war with her’.⁸⁷

Count Pourtalès, who had served as German ambassador in St Petersburg since 1907, put an optimistic spin on Sazonov’s warnings. He advised Berlin that the reference to Austria ‘devouring’ Serbia indicated that Russia would take up arms on behalf of Serbia only if the Austrians attempted to seize Serbian territory. Moreover, Sazonov’s desire to ‘Europeanize’ the dispute suggested that they need not anticipate the ‘immediate intervention’ of Russia.⁸⁸

Moreover, as the French president and premier were now at sea on their Baltic voyage, Sazonov could communicate directly with only the French ambassador. French foreign policy rested temporarily in the hands of Jean-Baptiste Bienvenu-Martin, the minister of justice, who had no experience of foreign affairs and whose immediate reaction was juridical: although he did not believe that Serbia could agree to those demands that impinged upon its sovereignty, it could perhaps agree to punish those involved in the assassination and to suppress propaganda aimed at Austria-Hungary.⁸⁹ He agreed with Germany that the dispute should be ‘localized’. The German ambassador in Paris was optimistic: Bienvenu-Martin was ‘visibly relieved’ to learn from him that Germany believed the conflict should be settled by the two participants alone.⁹⁰

While Bienvenu-Martin seemed unperturbed by the Austrian demands, Sir Edward Grey was shocked by them. He had never seen ‘one State address to another independent State a document of so formidable a character’.⁹¹ The demand that Austria-Hungary be given the right to appoint officials who would have authority within the frontiers of Serbia was inconsistent with Serbian sovereignty. Nevertheless, he argued that the British government had no interest in the merits of the dispute; its only concern was the peace of Europe. He therefore proposed that the four ‘disinterested powers’ (Britain, Germany, France and Italy) act together at Vienna and St Petersburg in order to resolve the dispute peacefully. At a cabinet meeting that afternoon – called to discuss the crisis in Ulster – Grey’s summary of the situation led the prime minister, Herbert Henry Asquith, to conclude that although a ‘real Armageddon’ was within sight, ‘there seems … no reason why we should be more than spectators’.⁹²

The initial reactions of the Entente powers created the impression that they would be content to leave Austria and Serbia to resolve the crisis. The German ambassador in St Petersburg concluded that Russia was unlikely to engage in a ‘warlike response’ and that it would attempt instead to bring the dispute before a European court.⁹³ In Austria, Berchtold was convinced that the ‘very existence’ of Austria as a Great Power was at stake and that it must prove its status ‘by an outright coup de force’. When Prince Kudashev, the Russian chargé in Vienna, asked how Austria would respond if Serbia failed to give a satisfactory answer the next day, Berchtold replied that the Austrian minister and his staff would leave Belgrade and return to Austria. ‘Alors c’est la guerre!’ cried the prince.⁹⁴

The Serbs had until 6 p.m. on Saturday, 25 July, to accept the Austrian demands in their entirety or face the prospect of war. When the Serbian cabinet met that morning they had received advice from Russia, France and Britain urging them to be as accommodating as possible and to declare their willingness to submit the dispute to arbitration or mediation.⁹⁵ No one had offered military assistance and the Serbs began drafting a ‘most conciliatory’ reply to Austria.⁹⁶ But they prepared for an Austrian invasion nevertheless: the royal family arranged to leave Belgrade; the military garrison left the city for a fortified town 60 miles to the south; an order for general mobilization was signed and drums were beaten in city streets, calling up conscripts to the colours.

But the Russians had decided that they could not stand by and do nothing. On the morning of the 25th, when the tsar presided over a meeting of the Grand Council, it was agreed to initiate a period ‘preparatory to war’ (defined in March 1913 as ‘a period of diplomatic tension which precedes the beginning of war operations’) and preparations for mobilization began in the military districts of Kiev, Odessa, Moscow and Kazan.⁹⁷ Sazonov attempted to enlist German support in persuading Austria to extend the deadline beyond 6 p.m., arguing that it was a ‘European matter’, but Germany dismissed the proposal as summoning Austria to a European ‘tribunal’ which would be humiliating and mean the end of Austria as a Great Power.

Sazonov attempted to enlist British support for a diplomatic intervention, continuing to hope that, if faced with the combined opposition of Britain, Russia and France, Germany might pressure Austria to moderate its terms.⁹⁸ But Grey was reluctant to commit: ‘I do not consider that public opinion here would or ought to sanction our going to war over a Servian quarrel’.⁹⁹ In this, Grey reflected public opinion – at least as reflected in the popular press – with Conservative newspapers especially sympathetic to the Habsburg monarchy and critical of Serbia and the assassins, a view supported by most Liberal newspapers as well.¹⁰⁰ Nevertheless, he continued to insist that mediation by the four ‘disinterested’ Powers – Britain, France, Germany and Italy – might succeed in averting war.¹⁰¹ He suggested, ironically, that Austrian and Russian military preparations could open the door to mediation by transforming a ‘local’ dispute into one that would require European intervention to preserve the peace.¹⁰² He believed that he could see a silver lining where Sazonov and others saw only a darkening cloud.

Throughout the day on the 25th the Austrians refused to alter their timetable and offered no indication that they were willing to moderate the terms of their ultimatum. When the Austrian minister in Belgrade received the Serb reply at 5.58 on Saturday evening, he could see instantly that their submission was incomplete. He announced that Austria was breaking off diplomatic relations and ordered the staff of the legation to leave for the railway station. By 6.30 p.m. the Austrians were on a train bound for the border. That evening Emperor Franz Josef signed the orders for mobilization of 13 army corps. When the news reached Vienna, the people greeted it with the ‘wildest enthusiasm’.¹⁰³ Huge crowds began to form, gathering along the Ringstrasse, bursting into patriotic songs and marching around the city shouting ‘Down with Serbia! Down with Russia’. In Berlin a crowd gathered and marched down Unter den Linden until it reached the Austrian embassy where they sang ‘Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser’; at midnight another group formed in front of the Russian embassy chanting ‘Down with Russia’.

The diplomatic crisis

In spite of these outbursts of patriotic zeal, when the day dawned on Sunday, 26 July, shells did not immediately begin raining down on Belgrade. There were no declarations of war. In spite of the preparations and mobilizations it still seemed possible that this latest diplomatic storm would be weathered as had so many in the past. But the signs were not encouraging: in Austria-Hungary the right of assembly, the secrecy of the mail, of telegrams and telephone conversations, and the freedom of the press were all suspended. The Bürgermeister of Vienna told a cheering crowd that the fate of Europe for centuries to come was about to be decided. The Catholic People’s Party newspaper, Alkotmány, declared that ‘History has put the master’s cane in the Monarchy’s hands. We must teach Serbia, we must make justice, we must punish her for her crimes’.¹⁰⁴

Those who were devoted to the goal of a greater Serbia saw the situation not as a disaster but as an opportunity. The bellicose Serbian minister in St Petersburg, Miroslav Spalajković, assured Belgrade that Russia was prepared to launch an offensive against Austria if it attacked Serbia. He claimed that the tsar himself believed that if war broke out Russia and France could defeat the Triple Alliance and that this might result in the partition of Austria-Hungary. Thus, the moment had arrived to ‘achieve the full unification of the Serbs’.¹⁰⁵

In spite of the apparent imminence of war between Austria and Serbia, there was no panic in Europe. Sir Edward Grey departed from London on Saturday afternoon to go to his cottage for a day of fly-fishing on Sunday. Kaiser Wilhelm continued to enjoy his annual yachting cruise of the Baltic. Emperor Franz Josef remained at his hunting lodge at Bad Ischl. The French premier and president were visiting Stockholm. The Russian ambassadors to Germany, Austria and France were all absent from their posts and remained on vacation, as did the British ambassadors to Germany and France. The Italian foreign minister was still taking the cure at the resort in Fiuggi. The chiefs of the German and Austrian general staffs remained on leave; the chief of the Serbian general staff was relaxing at an Austrian spa.

Hopes for a diplomatic resolution were not abandoned. The German and Austrian ambassadors each noted a significant change in Sazonov’s demeanour on Sunday: he was ‘much quieter and more conciliatory’. He insisted that Russia did not want war and promised to exhaust every means to avoid it: if Austria stopped short of violating Serbian sovereignty a cataclysm could be avoided. He jumped at the German ambassador’s suggestion that Russia and Austria discuss a softening of the demands.¹⁰⁶ Sazonov, who appeared to the ambassador to be ‘looking for a way out’¹⁰⁷ had the minister of war assure the German military attaché that Russia was undertaking preparatory measures only, that ‘not a horse and not a reserve had been called to service’.¹⁰⁸ Sazonov further assured the British ambassador that although the tsar had authorized the mobilization of over a million men this would not be announced or take effect until it was necessary; until then only preliminary steps to prepare for mobilization would be undertaken.

The Austrians also behaved as if peace still had a chance. Although they had withdrawn their legation from Belgrade and severed diplomatic relations with Serbia, they had not yet declared war. In fact, the Austrian chief of staff now suggested that war should not be declared for two weeks. The British, who still believed that a mediated settlement was possible, proposed that Germany, France and Italy ought to authorize their ambassadors in London to meet in a conference chaired by Sir Edward Grey.¹⁰⁹ And there was reason to believe that the Germans might agree: the German chancellor instructed Lichnowsky to request that Grey use his influence at St Petersburg to localize the conflict and preserve the peace of Europe.¹¹⁰ Germany’s secretary of state assured Theodore Wolff, editor of the Berliner Tageblatt, that the situation was not critical and that he expected another long, drawn-out crisis, such as the Agadir crisis of 1911.¹¹¹

By the morning of Monday 27 July, more than 36 hours had elapsed since the Austrian deadline to Serbia had expired but nothing dramatic had occurred. Europe generally interpreted the Serbian reply to the Austrian ultimatum as a great diplomatic victory for Austria.¹¹² Grey thought the Serbs had gone farther to placate the Austrians than he had believed possible: if the Austrians dismissed their reply as unacceptable it would be ‘absolutely clear’ that they were only seeking an excuse to crush Serbia.¹¹³ Russia would regard this as a challenge and the result ‘would be the most frightful war that Europe had ever seen’. Bethmann seemed to concur: Austria was close to accomplishing everything that it wanted¹¹⁴ and, after meeting that afternoon with the kaiser, the chief of the general staff and others, Adjutant General Hans von Plessen was convinced that ‘it will all blow over’.¹¹⁵

Would the Austrians be satisfied with a resounding diplomatic victory? Sazonov was now promising to go ‘to the limit’ in accommodating them, offering to build them ‘a golden bridge’, insisting that he had ‘no heart’ for the Balkan Slavs, and that he saw no problem with seven of the 10 Austrian demands.¹¹⁶ He asked only that the demands infringing on Serbian sovereignty be moderated. But his suggestions went nowhere: Berchtold dismissed Serbian promises as worthless. Only a military solution would suffice.

Still, there remained two initiatives that might yet avert war: Grey’s suggestion for à quatre discussions in London, and Sazonov’s proposal for Austro-Russian discussions in St Petersburg.¹¹⁷ Lichnowsky urged the German government to take up Grey’s suggestion: settling the crisis through Anglo-German co-operation would ‘guarantee that our relations with Great Britain will remain, for an incalculable time to come, of the same intimate and confidential character that has distinguished them for the last year and a half’. On the other hand, if Germany supported Austria and subordinated its good relations with Britain to the interests of its ally, ‘it would never again be possible to restore those ties which have of late bound us together’.¹¹⁸

When the kaiser studied the Serbian reply to the Austrian demands on Tuesday morning he too concluded that the Habsburg monarchy had achieved its objective and that the few points to which Serbia had not agreed could be settled by negotiation. The Serb submission represented a humiliating capitulation, and with it ‘every cause for war’ had collapsed. Austria-Hungary would emerge triumphant from the crisis: the Serbian reply represented ‘a great moral success for Vienna’.¹¹⁹ But he also proposed that, in order to turn the ‘beautiful promises’ of the Serbs into reality, the Austrian army ought to occupy Belgrade. ‘The Serbs are Orientals, and therefore liars, fakers and masters of evasion [Verschleppen].’¹²⁰

The kaiser now offered to ‘mediate’ with Austria in order to preserve European peace while Bethmann believed Germany had no choice but to act as mediator and present Grey’s proposals to Vienna.¹²¹ The offer of mediation perplexed Berchtold: Was Germany’s support about to evaporate? In order to avoid such a scenario, he persuaded Franz Josef to issue a declaration of war on Serbia just before noon on 28 July.¹²² For the first time in history war was declared by sending a telegram.

When news of the Austrian declaration of war reached Sazonov in St Petersburg he immediately arranged to meet with the tsar at the Peterhof. After their meeting the chief of the general staff was instructed to draft two ukazes – one for partial mobilization of the four military districts of Odessa, Kiev, Moscow and Kazan, and another for general mobilization. But the tsar, who remained steadfast in his determination to do nothing that might antagonize Germany, would not authorize anything more than a partial mobilization aimed at Austria-Hungary alone. His military advisers warned him that this was not feasible, that a partial mobilization would be chaotic, making it impossible to prosecute a successful war against Austria-Hungary and rendering Russia vulnerable in a war with Germany. But partial mobilization made sense diplomatically, if not militarily; it enabled Sazonov to assure the Germans that the decision to mobilize in only four districts was proof that Russia had no intention of attacking them.

On the evening of Tuesday, 28 July, Belgrade was bombarded by Austro-Hungarian artillery. Two shells exploded in a school, one at the Grand Hotel, others at cafés and banks. In spite of the shelling, before the sun rose the next day the kaiser initiated a new effort to avert a European war, writing directly to the tsar to encourage him to agree that they shared a common interest in punishing all of those ‘morally responsible’ for the dastardly murder of the archduke and promising to exert his influence to induce Austria to deal directly with Russia in order to arrive at an understanding.¹²³ Perhaps an Austro-Serbian conflict need not lead to a general European war.

At almost the same moment Nicholas appealed to Wilhelm for his assistance. ‘An ignoble war has been declared on a weak country’ unleashing widespread indignation in Russia and bringing overwhelming pressure on him to take ‘extreme measures’. To avoid a terrible calamity, he begged the kaiser in the name of their old friendship ‘to do what you can to stop your allies from going too far’.¹²⁴

The German general staff however offered a bleak assessment of the strategic realities facing Europe. The crime of Sarajevo had led Austria to resort to extreme measures ‘in order to burn with a glowing iron a cancer that has constantly threatened to poison the body of Europe’. The military preparations undertaken by Russia meant that, if Austrian forces advanced into Serbia, they would face not only the Serbian army but the vastly superior strength of Russia. Thus, Austria could not fight Serbia without securing itself against an attack by Russia, which would force it to mobilize the other half of the army and make a collision with Russia unavoidable. Germany would then be forced to mobilize, which would lead Russia and France to do the same – ‘and the mutual butchery of the civilized nations of Europe would begin’.¹²⁵

Berchtold pleaded with the Germans that only ‘plain speech’ would restrain the Russians, that only the threat of a German attack would stop them from taking military action against Austria. A stern warning from Germany might suffice: the Austrian ambassador reported that Sazonov was desperate to avoid a conflict and was ‘clinging to straws in the hope of escaping from the present situation’.¹²⁶ The Russian foreign minister promised him that if Austria were to negotiate its legitimate demands against Serbia would be recognized and fully satisfied.

At the same time, Sazonov continued to plead with the British for their support, insisting that the only way to avoid war was by warning the Triple Alliance that Britain would join its entente partners if war were to break out. But Grey remained steadfast in his refusal to promise support. In fact, he warned the French ambassador not to assume that Britain would stand by France as it had in 1905, when it had appeared that Germany was attempting to crush France. This time ‘the dispute between Austria and Serbia was not one in which we felt called to take a hand’.¹²⁷ Grey was acting on instructions from cabinet, which earlier that day had decided not to decide: both sides were to be informed that Britain was unable to make any promises to anyone. A cabinet colleague wrote that Grey was working hard to secure a diplomatic settlement, and that he was ‘marvellously cool & concentrated’.¹²⁸

The German chancellor thought he saw an opportunity here: insisting that it was not Germany’s aim to crush France, Bethmann proposed that Britain should agree to remain neutral in the event of war in exchange for Germany’s promise not to seize any French territory in Europe (although he would not apply this principle to French colonies).¹²⁹ He also promised to respect Belgium’s integrity when the war ended – as long as it had not sided against Germany. But the suggestion was complicated when the general staff received intelligence that Belgium was calling up reservists, raising the numbers of the Belgian army from 50,000 to 100,000, equipping its fortifications and reinforcing defences along the frontier. Belgium’s precautionary steps put added pressure on Germany to force the pace of the crisis.¹³⁰ At a meeting at the Neue Palais in Potsdam the kaiser and his advisers composed an ultimatum: either the Belgians agree to adopt an attitude of ‘benevolent neutrality’ towards Germany in a European war or face dire consequences.¹³¹

Simultaneously, Bethmann warned the Russians that if they continued with their military preparations Germany would be compelled to mobilize.¹³² And Russia was on the verge: an order for the general mobilization of Russian forces was to be circulated at 9 p.m. but, with only minutes remaining before the deadline, the tsar again equivocated, ordering the general mobilization to be cancelled and a partial one reinstituted. Nicholas explained: ‘Everything possible must be done to save the peace. I will not become responsible for a monstrous slaughter.’¹³³

In spite of the Austrian bombardment of Belgrade the day before, a diplomatic solution to the crisis still seemed possible. The German chancellor was insisting that the Austrians negotiate directly with Russia, warning them that although Germany was prepared to fulfil its alliance obligations it would not ‘be drawn wantonly into a world conflagration by Vienna’. He argued that their political prestige and military honour could be satisfied by an occupation of Belgrade and that the humiliation of Serbia would enhance their status in the Balkans.¹³⁴

But the tsar now complicated matters. Attempting to reassure the kaiser, Nicholas explained that the military measures now being undertaken by Russia had been decided upon five days ago as a defence against Austria’s preparations. ‘I hope with all my heart that these measures won’t in any way interfere with your part as mediator which I greatly value.’¹³⁵ Wilhelm erupted. He was shocked to discover that the ‘military measures which have now come into force were decided five days ago’. He would no longer put any pressure on Austria to negotiate: ‘I cannot agree to any more mediation’. The tsar had ‘secretly mobilized behind my back’.¹³⁶

In spite of the kaiser’s outrage, his chancellor was still attempting to restrain Austria. The German ambassador in Vienna presented Bethmann’s directive to Berchtold over breakfast the next day: Austria, with guarantees of Serbia’s good behaviour in the future as part of the mediation proposal, could attain its aims ‘without unleashing a world war’. It was out of the question to refuse mediation completely. Berchtold listened to this ‘pale and silent’.¹³⁷

Berchtold had no choice but to follow Bethmann’s directive. He explained to the Russians that his apparent rejection of mediation talks was an unfortunate misunderstanding and that he was now prepared to discuss ‘amicably and confidentially’ all questions directly affecting their relations.¹³⁸ He warned them, however, that he would not yield on any of the points in the note to Serbia – making it rather difficult to grasp what a mediated settlement might consist of. When Russia announced at noon on the 30th that it was initiating a partial mobilization, the Austrian ambassador dismissed it as a bluff: Sazonov dreaded war ‘as much as his Imperial Master’ and was attempting ‘to deprive us of the fruits of our Serbian campaign without going to Serbia’s aid if possible’.¹³⁹ General Moltke disagreed: he saw the Russian announcement as a threat and pleaded with the Austrians to mobilize, promising that Germany would be with them ‘unconditionally’ and that it would mobilize immediately after Austria did so.¹⁴⁰

In St Petersburg the war minister and the chief of the general staff were trying to persuade the tsar that partial mobilization was a mistake. When Sazonov met with Nicholas at Peterhof that afternoon he too argued that general mobilization was essential: war was now almost inevitable and they must be prepared for it. Germany could easily have made the Austrians see reason if they had really desired peace. This time he succeeded in persuading the tsar and, at 5 p.m., the official decree announcing general mobilization was issued.¹⁴¹

But Russia’s French allies failed to join them. Meeting in Paris, the cabinet decided that for the sake of public opinion they must take care that ‘the Germans put themselves in the wrong’.¹⁴² They attempted to avoid the appearance of mobilizing: while their troops could take up their positions along the German frontier from Luxembourg to the Vosges mountains, they were not to approach closer than 10 kilometres. No train transport was to be used, no reservists were to be called up, no horses or vehicles were to be requisitioned. Joffre, the chief of the general staff, was dismayed by their decision not to mobilize immediately: these restraints would make it difficult to execute the offensive thrust of his war plan.

Meanwhile, in London, Grey bluntly rejected Bethmann’s neutrality proposal of the day before: ‘that we should bind ourselves to neutrality on such terms cannot for a moment be entertained’. One cabinet minister described the proposal as ‘monstrous’.¹⁴³ Britain would not stand by while France was defeated and its colonies taken: ‘France could be so crushed as to lose her position as a Great Power, and become subordinate to German policy’. On the other hand, if the current crisis passed and the peace of Europe was preserved, Grey promised to promote an arrangement by which Germany could be assured ‘that no hostile or aggressive policy would be pursued against her or her allies by France, Russia, and ourselves, jointly or separately’.¹⁴⁴

In spite of Grey’s dismissal of Bethmann’s initiative, yet another possibility of Anglo-German co-operation appeared when a telegram from King George arrived at Potsdam. Responding to an earlier message from the kaiser’s brother, the king assured him that the British government was doing its utmost to persuade Russia and France to suspend further military preparations. A suspension seemed possible ‘if Austria will consent to be satisfied with [the] occupation of Belgrade and neighbouring Serbian territory as a hostage for [the] satisfactory settlement of her demands’. He urged the kaiser to use his great influence at Vienna to induce Austria to accept this proposal.¹⁴⁵ The kaiser ordered his brother to drive into Berlin immediately to inform Bethmann of the good news, which was delivered to the chancellor shortly after midnight. Wilhelm planned to answer King George on Friday morning, noting that the suggestions made by the king were the same as those he had proposed to Vienna.

When Bethmann advised Austria the next day, on Friday, 31 July, to accept Grey’s proposal that the four ‘disinterested’ Powers mediate between Austria and Russia peace still seemed to have a chance. The chancellor confessed that if Austria declined to negotiate it would appear that they were determined to have a war and that Germany would be drawn in, placing ‘us in an untenable situation in the eyes of our own people’.¹⁴⁶ Berchtold reluctantly informed the common ministerial council that morning that the proposed conference à quatre was now back on the agenda, although he rejected Bethmann’s argument that Austria’s political prestige and military honour could be satisfied by the occupation of Belgrade and that the humiliation of Serbia would weaken Russia’s position in the Balkans. He took this line in spite of having assured the emperor earlier that if Serbia yielded to the demands it would mean ‘its profound humiliation and pari passu a diminution of Russian prestige in the Balkans’.¹⁴⁷ Now he insisted that if Austria achieved no more than ‘prestige’ its efforts would have been in vain and he dismissed an occupation of Belgrade as useless – a fraud (Flitterwerk) that would allow Russia to pose as the saviour of Serbia. The ministers agreed that he should continue to insist on Austria’s conditions.¹⁴⁸

The fissure between Austria and Germany was not the only sign of an alliance in disarray: while Berchtold was meeting with the ministerial council the British cabinet was considering France’s request for a promise of British assistance. Some opposed intervention. Most were undecided. Only two ministers, Grey and Churchill, favoured intervention. While most agreed that British public opinion would not support going to war on France’s behalf, they believed this could change if Germany violated Belgian neutrality. Grey was instructed to request assurances from both Germany and France that they would respect Belgian neutrality. They declined to promise to support France. ‘[T]his Cabinet will not join in the war’ one of them concluded.¹⁴⁹

Grey now suggested that the four disinterested Powers might promise Austria that it would obtain ‘full satisfaction of her demands on Servia’ at a conference – provided that these did not impair Serbian sovereignty or the integrity of Serbian territory.¹⁵⁰ All Powers would then agree to suspend further military operations or preparations. The problem with this was that Austria was in fact determined to ‘impair’ Serbia’s territorial integrity by transferring large chunks of its territory to its neighbours. This was the failure that Berchtold feared: that Serbia might remain intact.

Germany refused to consider Grey’s proposed conference and announced the drohenden Kriegszustand (imminent peril of war) in the afternoon of the 31st. The German ambassador in St Petersburg warned that Germany would mobilize unless Russia agreed to suspend ‘every war measure’ aimed at Austria-Hungary and Germany within 12 hours.¹⁵¹

The chief of the Austrian general staff contacted Berlin by telephone later that afternoon to explain the Austrian position to the German general staff. Conrad insisted that Austria had no intention of declaring war on Russia and had mobilized only as a precaution against a Russian attack. If Russia mobilized along the Austrian frontier Austria could match this and the two forces could then wait, without going to war.

Conrad’s clarification of the situation terrified Moltke. Germany’s war plan relied upon Austria attacking Russia. He informed Conrad that Germany would probably mobilize its forces in two days and then commence hostilities against Russia and France. Did Austria’s defensive posture mean that it would fail to support Germany’s offensive campaign? Conrad asked for clarification: if Germany intended to launch a war against Russia and France, should he rule out the possibility of fighting a war against Serbia on its own? Moltke replied that the German ultimatums to Russia and France required answers by 4 p.m. Saturday.

Europe mobilizes

In London and Paris they did not abandon hope that war might be averted. Grey suggested that Russia cease its military preparations in exchange for an undertaking from the other Powers that they would seek a way to give complete satisfaction to Austria without endangering the sovereignty or territorial integrity of Serbia. Viviani agreed: he would tell Sazonov that Grey’s formula furnished the basis for discussion among the Powers seeking an honourable solution to the Austro-Serbian conflict. The proposal would satisfy Russia and Austria and provide Serbia with ‘an acceptable means of escaping from the present difficulty’.¹⁵²

In St Petersburg that evening the German ambassador, in a private audience with the tsar, begged him to revoke the Russian mobilization. The tsar replied that this was no longer possible. The ambassador presented the ultimatum: Russia had until noon Saturday to abandon its mobilization or Germany would initiate its own, and ‘mobilization means war’. In Paris the German ambassador told the French government that it had until 1 p.m. the next day to decide whether it would remain neutral in the event of a Russo-German war. If France agreed to remain neutral it would be required to hand over to Germany the fortresses of Verdun and Toul.¹⁵³

In spite of these deadlines, peace still had a chance. Russia and Austria had resumed negotiations in St Petersburg at the behest of Britain, Germany and France. Austria had declared publicly and repeatedly that it did not intend to seize any Serbian territory and that it would respect the sovereignty and independence of the Serbian monarchy. Russia had declared that it would not object to severe measures against Serbia as long as its sovereignty and independence were respected. A settlement on these principles was still within reach.

On Saturday morning the British cabinet met for 2 1/2 hours but was unable to agree on a policy. Winston Churchill demanded an immediate mobilization while others insisted on a declaration that Britain would not enter the war under any circumstances. Sir Edward Grey threatened to resign if the cabinet adopted an uncompromising policy of non-intervention. They were at an impasse.

In Berlin the note to be handed to Russia if it refused to stop its demobilization was approved: ‘His Majesty the Emperor … considers himself as being in a state of war with Russia’.¹⁵⁴ But shortly after despatching this telegram to St Petersburg a message from the tsar arrived in Berlin. Nicholas asked Wilhelm to give him the same guarantee that he had given: ‘that these measures DO NOT mean war’ and that they would continue to negotiate ‘for the benefit of our countries and universal peace dear to our hearts’.¹⁵⁵ Perhaps mobilization did not ‘mean war’?

Grey desperately tried to gain time for negotiation. He suggested to Berlin that mediation between Austria and Russia commence immediately. He not only refused to promise the Germans that Britain would remain neutral, but he also refused to promise any assistance to France. If France would not agree to remain neutral in a war between Russia and Germany, ‘it was because she was bound by an alliance to which we were not parties, and of which we did not know the terms’. While he would not rule out assistance under any circumstances, France must make its decision ‘without reckoning on an assistance that we were not now in a position to give’.¹⁵⁶

Grey’s position shocked the French ambassador who refused to transmit it to Paris. Instead, he would tell his government that the British cabinet had yet to make a decision. Cambon complained that France had left its Atlantic coast undefended because of the naval convention of 1912 with Britain and that the British were honour-bound to assist them. His complaint fell on deaf ears. He staggered from Grey’s office into an adjoining room, close to hysteria, ‘his face white’. Immediately afterwards he met with two influential opposition politicians, bitterly declaring ‘Honour! Does England know what honour is’? ‘If you stay out and we survive, we shall not move a finger to save you from being crushed by the Germans later.’¹⁵⁷

In Paris General Joffre threatened to resign as chief of the general staff if the government refused to order mobilization. France, he warned, had already fallen two days behind Germany in preparing for war. The cabinet agreed to distribute mobilization notices that afternoon at 4 p.m. but the 10-kilometre buffer zone would be maintained:

No patrol, no reconnaissance, no post, no element whatsoever, must go east of the said line. Whoever crosses it will be liable to court martial and it is only in the event of a full-scale attack that it will be possible to transgress this order.¹⁵⁸

When Russia failed to reply to the German ultimatum by the deadline, the minister of war and the chancellor convinced the kaiser to issue the order for mobilization at 5 p.m.: ‘God bless Your Majesty and your arms, God protect the beloved Fatherland’, Falkenhayn declared.¹⁵⁹

In spite of the mobilizations and declarations by the morning of Sunday, 2 August, the only shots fired in anger consisted of the bombs that the Austrians continued to shower on Belgrade. Shortly after dawn German troops crossed the frontier into the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. Trains loaded with soldiers crossed the bridge at Wasserbillig and headed to the city of Luxembourg, the capital of the Grand-Duchy. By 8.30 a.m. German troops occupied the railway station in the city centre. Marie-Adélaïde, the grand duchess, protested directly to the kaiser, demanding an explanation and asking him to respect the country’s rights. The chancellor replied that Germany’s military measures should not be regarded as hostile but only as steps to protect the railways under German management against an attack by the French; he promised full compensation for any damages suffered.

The neutrality of Luxembourg had been guaranteed by the Powers in the Treaty of London of 1867. The prime minister immediately protested the violation at Berlin, Paris, London and Brussels. When Paul Cambon received the news in London he requested a meeting with Grey, to which he brought a copy of the 1867 treaty. But Grey took the position that the treaty was a ‘collective instrument’, meaning that if Germany chose to violate it, Britain was released from any obligation to uphold it. Disgusted, Cambon declared that the word ‘honour’ might have ‘to be struck out of the British vocabulary’.¹⁶⁰

The cabinet was scheduled to meet at 10 Downing Street at 11 a.m. that Sunday morning. Before it convened Lloyd George held a small meeting of his own at the chancellor’s residence next door with five other members of cabinet. They were untroubled by the German invasion of Luxembourg and agreed that, as a group, they would oppose Britain’s entry into the war in Europe. They might reconsider their position under certain circumstances, however, ‘such as the invasion wholesale of Belgium’.¹⁶¹

The cabinet found it almost impossible to decide under what conditions Britain might intervene. Some opposed intervention under any circumstances while others wanted immediate mobilization of the army in anticipation of despatching the British Expeditionary Force to France. Grey revealed his frustration with Germany and Austria-Hungary: they had chosen to play with the most vital interests of civilization and had declined the numerous attempts he had made to find a way out of the crisis. While appearing to negotiate they had marched ‘steadily to war’.¹⁶² After almost three hours of heated debate the cabinet finally agreed to give France a qualified assurance: they would not permit the Germans to use the English Channel as a base for hostilities against them.

That afternoon a great anti-war demonstration was held in Trafalgar Square. Trade unions organized a series of processions, with thousands of workers marching to meet at Nelson’s column. Speeches began around 4 p.m. – by which time 10–15,000 had gathered to hear Keir Hardie and other labour leaders, socialists and peace activists. With rain pouring down, a resolution in favour of international peace and for solidarity among the workers of the world ‘to use their industrial and political power in order that the nations shall not be involved in the war’ was put to the crowd and deemed to have carried.¹⁶³

If the British cabinet was divided, so however were the people. When the crowd in London began singing ‘The Red Flag’ and the ‘Internationale’ they were matched by anti-socialists and pro-war demonstrators singing ‘God Save the King’ and ‘Rule Britannia’. When a red flag was hoisted, a Union Jack went up in reply. Part of the crowd broke away and marched a few hundred feet to Admiralty Arch where they listened to patriotic speeches. Several thousand marched up the Mall to Buckingham Palace, singing the national anthem and the Marseillaise. The king and the queen appeared on the balcony to acknowledge the cheering crowd. Later that evening demonstrators gathered in front of the French embassy to show their support.

Anti-war sentiment was rapidly dissipating on the continent. On Sunday morning the French Socialist party announced its intention to defend France in the event of war. The newspaper of the syndicalist CGT declared ‘That the name of the old emperor Franz Josef be cursed’; it denounced the kaiser ‘and the pangermanists’ as responsible for the war.¹⁶⁴ In Germany three of the largest trade unions did a deal with the government: in exchange for promising not to go on strike, the government promised not to ban them. In Russia, organized opposition to war practically disappeared.

The British cabinet met again on Sunday evening to decide whether they were prepared to enter a European war. The leader of the Unionist opposition, Andrew Bonar Law, had assured the prime minister that his party would support intervention.¹⁶⁵ Now, if anti-war sentiment in cabinet led to the resignation of Sir Edward Grey (who was likely to be joined by Asquith, Churchill and others) it seemed likely that a coalition government would be formed that would lead Britain into war anyway. When the cabinet met they were unaware that at the same moment a German ultimatum was being presented to the Belgian government in Brussels. The German government claimed that it had received reliable information that French forces were preparing to march through Belgian territory in order to attack Germany and that Belgium would be unable to resist. In order to defend itself therefore, Germany had to anticipate such an attack. Belgium was given until 7 a.m. the next morning to agree to permit the transit of German forces through its territory.¹⁶⁶

The prime minister and the king immediately agreed that Belgium should reject the German demands. The king discussed the situation with his council of ministers from 9 p.m. until midnight. The council began drafting a reply at 1 a.m. which was handed to the German minister in Brussels at 7 a.m. They promised that if France were to violate Belgian neutrality ‘the Belgian army would offer the most vigorous resistance to the invader’. The attack on Belgian independence which Germany was now threatening ‘constitutes a flagrant violation of international law’. No strategic interest could justify this. ‘The Belgian Government, if they were to accept the proposals submitted to them, would sacrifice the honour of the nation and betray at the same time their duties towards Europe.’¹⁶⁷

When the British cabinet convened to discuss the German ultimatum to Belgium on Monday morning four ministers threatened to resign if the government chose not to intervene. After three hours of discussion the ministers agreed on the line to be taken by Sir Edward Grey when he addressed the House of Commons that afternoon. ‘The Cabinet was very moving. Most of us could hardly speak at all for emotion.’¹⁶⁸

When Grey spoke in the House he explained that this crisis differed from that of Morocco in 1912 because that situation had primarily involved France, to which Britain had publicly promised diplomatic support. What they now faced however had originated as a dispute between Austria and Serbia – one in which France had become engaged because it was obligated by honour to do so as a result of its alliance with Russia. But this obligation did not apply to Britain. ‘We are not parties to the Franco-Russian Alliance. We do not even know the terms of that Alliance.’¹⁶⁹

On the other hand, because of its now-established friendship with Britain, France had concentrated its fleet in the Mediterranean, secure in the belief that its northern and western coasts were safe. Those coasts were now absolutely undefended.

My own feeling is 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 undefended coasts of France, we could not stand aside and see this going on practically within sight of our eyes, with our arms folded, looking on dispassionately, doing nothing!

The government felt strongly that France was entitled to know ‘and to know at once!’ whether in the event of an attack on her coasts it could depend on British support. Thus, he had given the government’s assurance of support to the French ambassador yesterday.

There was however another, more immediate decision to be made: what should Britain do in the event of a violation of Belgian neutrality? Grey warned the House that if Belgium’s independence disappeared, that of Holland would follow. And what ‘If France is beaten in a struggle of life and death, beaten to her knees, loses her position as a great Power, becomes subordinate to the will and power of one greater than herself’? If Britain chose to stand aside and ‘run away from those obligations of honour and interest as regards the Belgian Treaty, I doubt whether, whatever material force we might have at the end, it would be of very much value’.

I do not believe for a moment, that at the end of this war, even if we stood aside and remained aside, we should be in a position, a material position, to use our force decisively to undo what had happened in the course of the war, to prevent the whole of the West of Europe opposite to us – if that had been the result of the war – falling under the domination of a single Power, and I am quite sure that our moral position would be such as to have lost us all respect.

While Grey was speaking in the House the king and queen were driving along the Mall to Buckingham Palace in an open carriage, cheered by large crowds. In Berlin the Russian ambassador was being attacked by a mob wielding sticks, while the German chancellor was sending instructions to the ambassador in Paris to inform the French government that Germany considered itself to now be ‘in a state of war’ with France. At 6 p.m. the declaration was handed in at Paris:

The German administrative and military authorities have established a certain number of flagrantly hostile acts committed on German territory by French military aviators. Several of these have openly violated the neutrality of Belgium by flying over the territory of that country; one has attempted to destroy buildings near Wesel; others have been seen in the district of the Eifel, one has thrown bombs on the railway near Karlsruhe and Nuremberg.¹⁷⁰

President Poincaré was relieved by the declaration, given that war was by this time inevitable.

It is a hundred times better that we were not led to declare war ourselves… . If we had been forced to declare war ourselves, the Russian alliance would have become a subject of controversy in France, national [élan?] would have been broken, and Italy may have been forced by the provisions of the Triple Alliance to take sides against us.¹⁷¹

When the British cabinet met again briefly that evening, they had before them the text of the German ultimatum to Belgium and the Belgian reply to it. They agreed to insist that the German government withdraw the ultimatum. After the meeting Grey told the French ambassador that if Germany refused ‘it will be war’.¹⁷²

At 6 a.m. on Tuesday, 4 August, the Belgian government was informed that German troops would be entering its territory. Later that morning the German minister assured them that Germany remained ready to offer them ‘the hand of a brother’ and to negotiate a modus vivendi.¹⁷³ But the basis for any agreement must include the opening of the fortress of Liège to the passage of German troops and a Belgian promise not to destroy railways and bridges. At the same time the British government was requesting from the Belgian government ‘an assurance that the demand made upon Belgium will not be proceeded with’ and from Germany an assurance that it would not violate Belgian neutrality.¹⁷⁴

In Berlin they had already anticipated British objections. The German ambassador in London was instructed to ‘dispel any mistrust’ by repeating, positively and formally, that Germany would not, under any pretence, annex Belgian territory. He was to impress upon Sir Edward Grey the reasons for Germany’s decision: they had ‘absolutely unimpeachable’ information that France was planning to attack Germany through Belgium, leaving it with no choice but to violate Belgian neutrality because this was for them a matter ‘of life or death’.¹⁷⁵ The assurance was received in London at almost the same moment that the Foreign Office received news that German troops had begun their advance into Belgium.

Two of the four cabinet ministers who had threatened to resign if Britain intervened now changed their minds: the news that the Germans had entered Belgium and announced that they would ‘push their way through by force of arms’ had clarified things for them. At 10.30 a.m. Grey instructed the British minister in Brussels that Britain expected the Belgians to resist any German pressure to induce them to depart from their neutrality ‘by any means in their power’. The British government would support them in their resistance and was prepared to join France and Russia in immediately offering to the Belgian government ‘an alliance’ for the purpose of resisting the use of force by Germany against them, along with a guarantee to maintain Belgian independence and integrity in future years.¹⁷⁶

At 2 p.m. Grey instructed the ambassador in Berlin to repeat the request he had made last week and again that morning that the German government assure him that it would respect Belgian neutrality. A satisfactory reply was required by midnight, Central European time. If this were not received in time the ambassador was to request his passports and to tell the German government that ‘His Majesty’s Government feel bound to take all steps in their power to uphold the neutrality of Belgium and the observance of a Treaty to which Germany is as much a party as ourselves’.¹⁷⁷

Before the ambassador could present these demands, the German chancellor addressed the Reichstag, making a long, impassioned speech defending the government’s decision to go to war:

A terrible fate is breaking over Europe. For forty-four years, since the time we fought for and won the German Empire and our position in the world, we have lived in peace and protected the peace of Europe. During this time of peace we have become strong and powerful, arousing the envy of others. We have patiently faced the fact that, under the pretence that Germany was warlike, enmity was aroused against us in the East and the West, and chains were fashioned for us.¹⁷⁸

He followed this with a defence of German diplomacy during the crisis: Russia alone had failed to agree to ‘localize’ the crisis, one that concerned only Austria and Serbia; Germany had warmly supported efforts to mediate the dispute and the kaiser had engaged the tsar in a personal correspondence to join him in resolving the differences between Russia and Austria, but Russia had chosen to mobilize all of her forces directed against Austria even though Austria had mobilized only against Serbia. Finally, Russia had chosen to mobilize all of her forces, leaving Germany with no choice but to mobilize as well.

France, Bethmann declared, had evaded giving a clear answer to the question of whether it would remain neutral in the event of war between Russia and Germany. And then, in spite of promises to keep French forces 10 kilometres from the frontier with Germany ‘Aviators dropped bombs, and cavalry patrols and French infantry detachments appeared on the territory of the Empire!’

While he admitted that Germany’s decision to enter Belgium was a violation of international law, they had no choice: ‘A French attack on our flank on the lower Rhine might have been disastrous’. And Germany would set right the wrong once ‘our military aims have been attained’.

We are fighting for the fruits of our works of peace, for the inheritance of a great past and for our future. The fifty years are not yet past during which Count Moltke said we should have to remain armed to defend the inheritance that we won in 1870. Now the great hour of trial has struck for our people. But with clear confidence we go forward to meet it. Our army is in the field, our navy is ready for battle, and behind them stands the entire German nation the entire German nation united to the last man.

At almost the same moment Poincaré was addressing the French Chamber of Deputies, but he did so indirectly as the constitution prohibited the president from addressing the deputies in person. The minister of justice read his speech for him:

‘France has just been the object of a violent and premeditated attack, which is an insolent defiance of the law of nations. Before any declaration of war had been sent to us, even before the German Ambassador had asked for his passports, our territory has been violated.’ … ‘Since the ultimatum of Austria opened a crisis which threatened the whole of Europe, France has persisted in following and in recommending on all sides a policy of prudence, wisdom, and moderation. To her there can be imputed no act, no movement, no word, which has not been peaceful and conciliatory.’ … ‘In the war which is beginning, France will have Right on her side, the eternal power of which cannot with impunity be disregarded by nations any more than by individuals. She will be heroically defended by all her sons; nothing will break their sacred union before the enemy; today they are joined together as brothers in a common indignation against the aggressor, and in a common patriotic faith.’ … ‘Haut les coeurs et vive la France!’¹⁷⁹

At Buckingham palace at 10.45 p.m. the king convened a meeting of the Privy Council for the purpose of authorizing the declaration of war. They waited for 11 p.m. to come, and when Big Ben struck the hour they were at war. Meanwhile people had begun gathering outside the palace. When news began to spread throughout the crowd that war had been declared the excitement mounted; and when the king, the queen and their eldest son appeared on the balcony ‘the cheering was terrific’.

By the end of the day five of the six Great Powers of Europe were at war, along with Serbia and Belgium. Diplomacy had failed.¹⁸⁰

References

· 1  Two recent biographies of Franz Ferdinand in German are: Jean-Paul Bled, Franz Ferdinand: Der eigensinnige Thronfolger (Vienna 2013) and Alma Hannig, Franz Ferdinand: Die Biografie (Vienna 2013).

· 2  Albert Mousset, Un drame historique: l’attentat de Sarajevo (Paris 1930), p. 485.

· 3  Quoted in Bernadotte Schmitt, The Coming of the War, 1914 (New York 1930), Vol. I, p. 256.

· 4  Ibid., p. 257.

· 5  Franz Graf Conrad von Hötzendorf, Aus meiner Dienstzeit, 1906–1918, 5 vols (Vienna 1921–25), Vol. IV, p. 31.

· 6  Thomas Otte in July Crisis: The World’s Descent into War, Summer 1914 (Cambridge 2014) argues that Tschirschky’s advice was incoherent, that leaving it to Vienna to define what constituted its vital interests contained the essence of the infamous ‘Blank Cheque’ issued to Austria on 5 July (p. 69) and that the German ambassador – for the sake of ‘plausible deniability’ used an intermediary to assure Austria of German support ‘through thick and thin’ (p. 70).

· 7  Bollati to San Giuliano, 30 June, in A. Torre (ed.), I documenti diplomatici italiani, 4th series (Rome 1954), Vol. XII [henceforth DDI, XII] 4 s XII, 25; quoted in R.J.B. Bosworth, Italy, the Least of the Great Powers: Italian Foreign Policy before the First World War (Cambridge 1979), p. 380.

· 8  Pashitch [Pašić] to All the Royal Serbian Legations abroad. Belgrade, 1 July, ‘The Serbian Blue Book’, in Collected Diplomatic Documents Relating to the Outbreak of the European War (London 1915) no. 8.

· 9  Tisza to Franz Josef, 1 July, in L. Bittner et al. (eds), Österreich-Ungarns Aussenpolitik von der Bosnischen Krise 1908 bus zum Kriegsausbruch 1914, Band VIII (Vienna 1930) nr 9978 (henceforth O-UA).

· 10  Michael Neiberg has summarized persuasive evidence that Europeans generally were convinced that the assassination would not lead to war: Dance of the Furies: Europe and the Outbreak of World War I (Cambridge, MA 2011), pp. 22–6.

· 11  F.R. Bridge, Sadowa to Sarajevo (London 1972), p. 361.

· 12  Thomas Otte argues that Berchtold ‘had fastened upon a military solution as soon as the news of Sarajevo broke’, July Crisis, p. 79.

· 13  Memorandum by Baron von Matscheko, undated, secret, O-UA, VIII, nr 9918; a good English translation of the memorandum is available in Bridge, Sadowa to Sarajevo.

· 14  Franz Josef to Wilhelm II, 2 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 9984. Presented in Berlin on 5 July.

· 15  Ibid. An English translation of this document (and others published in the Austrian ‘Red Book’) may be found online at the World War I Document Archive: http://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php

· 16  See John C.G. Röhl, Wilhelm II: Into the Abyss of War and Exile, 1900–1941, trans. Sheila de Bellaigue and Roy Bridge (Cambridge 2014), pp. 756, 943.

· 17  Dumaine to Viviani, 2 July, in A. Costes (ed.), Documents diplomatiques français (1871–1914), 3^me série, 1911–14, Tome X (Paris 1929) DDF, X, no. 470 (henceforth DDF).

· 18  Note by Hoyos, 1 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 9966.

· 19  Szögyény to Berchtold, 5 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10058.

· 20  Use of the term appears to have originated with Zimmerman. But the under-secretary of state referred to it as ‘Blankovollmacht’ (Otte, July Crisis, p. 214) which is best translated as ‘full discretionary power’. The difference may be subtle, but the image conjured up by ‘blank cheque’ is more powerful than that of telling an ally that it had ‘discretionary power’, which seems to indicate that it would not interfere with, or attempt to direct, policy.

· 21  See Otte, July Crisis, p. 81.

· 22  The kaiser, as commander of the armed forces, maintained his own military cabinet that operated quite apart from the political cabinet which was chaired by the chancellor.

· 23  Quoted in Annika Mombauer, Helmuth von Moltke and The Origins of the First World War (Cambridge 2001), p. 191.

· 24  Szögyény to Berchtold, telegram, 6 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10076.

· 25  Ibid.

· 26  Quoted in Konrad Jarausch, The Enigmatic Chancellor (New Haven 1972), p. 147.

· 27  Otte, on the other hand, asserts that in issuing the cheque, ‘Germany had surrendered her ability to restrain Vienna’, July Crisis, p. 85. Although Berlin did, publicly, step away and leave Austria to take the lead – thus enabling the Germans to argue that their position was to ‘localize’ the dispute, they remained deeply involved in the diplomatic process, attempting to keep Italy within the alliance and striving for the support of Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey.

· 28  Otte, July Crisis, p. 87.

· 29  Tschirschky to Foreign Office, telegram, 7 July, in M. Montgelas and W. Schücking (eds), Die deutschen Dokumente zum Kriegsausbruch, Band I (Berlin 1919), nr 18 (henceforth DDK).

· 30  Complete minutes of the meeting can be found in O-UA, VIII, nr 10118; most of the record is available in an English translation in Imanuel Geiss (ed.), July 1914: The Outbreak of the First World War: Selected Documents (New York 1967), No. 9.

· 31  After a lengthy discussion they were joined by Conrad as chief of the general staff and Vice-Admiral von Kailer, representing the navy.

· 32  Tisza asserted that a ‘serious denting of Serb arrogance’ would be satisfaction enough. Otte, July Crisis, p. 112.

· 33  Quoted in Otte, July Crisis, p. 114. Otte concludes his summary of Austria’s decision-making process disparagingly: ‘In its own peculiar, consensual and ponderous manner, Habsburg policy thus moved at the pace of an arthritic snail.’ p. 115. Snails, however, do not have arthritis; in fact, snail protein may be a remedy for joint degradation.

· 34  Bollati to San Giuliano, 9 July, DDI, XII no. 123; quoted in Bosworth, Least of the Great Powers, p. 382.

· 35  Nevertheless, Sean McMeekin in July 1914: Countdown to War (New York 2013) asserts that Zimmerman was ‘hawkish’ and a proponent of ‘preventive war’, p. 102.

· 36  Berchtold to Tisza, 8 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10145.

· 37  Tschirschky to Foreign Office, telegram, 8 July, DDK, II, nr 19.

· 38  Berchtold to Tisza, 8 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10145.

· 39  The lengths to which Berchtold went undercuts the (preposterous) argument of Hugo Hantsch that he had sent Hoyos to Berlin in the hope that the Germans would not give any promises of support for vigorous action against Serbia: Leopold Graf Berchtold: Grandseigneur und Staatsmann, 2 vols (Graz 1963). But the biography is nevertheless useful for its presentation of primary Berchtold materials.

· 40  Tisza to Franz Josef, 8 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10146.

· 41  Tisza to Berchtold, 9 July, quoted in József Galántai, Hungary in the First World War (Budapest 1989), p. 37.

· 42  Tschirschky to Foreign Office, telegram, 10 July, DDK, I, nr 29.

· 43  Riezler diary, 8 July, in Karl Dietrich Erdmann (ed.), Kurt Riezler: Tagebücher, Aufsätze, Dokumente (Göttingen 1972), p. 184; the diary was reprinted in 2009 with a new introduction by Holger Afflerbach.

· 44  Bollati to San Giuliano, DDI, 9 July, no. 123; quoted in Bosworth, Least of the Great Powers, p. 382.

· 45  Szögyény to Berchtold, 12 July, O-UA, VIII nr 10215.

· 46  Flotow to Foreign Office, telegram, 12 July, DDK, I, nr 38.

· 47  Berchtold to Mérey, telegram, 12 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10221.

· 48  Conrad to Berchtold, c. 12 July 1914. O-UA, VIII, nr 10226.

· 49  de Bunsen to Grey, 11 July, BD, XI, no. 46. He was not sufficiently alarmed to send this communication via telegram; it was not received in London until 15 July.

· 50  Ibid.

· 51  Burián to Tisza and Burián diary, 12 July, in Galántai, Hungary in the First World War, p. 40.

· 52  Tschirschky to Bethmann Hollweg, 14 July, DDK, I, nr 49.

· 53  Tschirschky to Bethmann Hollweg, 14 July, DDK, I, nr 50.

· 54  Riezler diary 14 July, in Erdmann, Kurt Riezler p. 185.

· 55  Lichnowsky to Foreign Office, telegram, 14 July, DDK, I, nr 43. For an explanation of British sympathies with the ‘national struggle’ in the Balkans see J. Perkins, ‘The Congo of Europe: The Balkans and Empire in Early Twentieth-Century British Political Culture’ Historical Journal 58 (2015), pp. 565–87.

· 56  Jagow to Lichnowsky, telegram, 15 July, DDK, I, nr 48.

· 57  Jagow to Lichnowsky, Private letter, 18 July, DDK, I, nr 72. Jagow had recently returned to Berlin from his honeymoon. Otte concludes that this position ‘was tantamount to abdicating an independent German policy’ and that it constituted ‘an amalgam of delusion and recklessness’, July Crisis, pp. 170, 172.

· 58  de Bunsen to Grey, 13 July, British Documents on the Origins of the War, ed. G.P. Gooch and Harold Temperley (London 1926), Vol. XI (henceforth BD).

· 59  Stolberg to Jagow, Private letter, 18 July, DDK, I, nr 87. Hoyos had assured the counselor at the German embassy of this the day before the meeting.

· 60  Meeting of the Common Ministerial Council, 19 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10393. Otte says that it is ‘tempting to suggest that the ministers had decided upon a “leap in the dark”, were it not for the fact that Habsburg policy was incapable of such exertions’, July Crisis, p. 192.

· 61  Szögyény to Berchtold, private letter, 21 July, O-UA, VIII, 10448.

· 62  The Austrian ambassador in Rome, Kajetan Mérey, suspected that his German counterpart may have revealed Austria’s intentions, which ‘would not be the first instance that in delicate questions between us and Italy, Germany tries to render service to the latter at our expense.’ Mérey to Berchtold, telegram, 18 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10364.

· 63  Barrère to Bienvenu-Martin, telegram, 21 July, DDF, X, no. 546.

· 64  de Bunsen to Grey, 19 July, BD, XI, no. 156.

· 65  Grey to Buchanan, telegram, 20 July, BD, XI, no. 67.

· 66  Grey to Rumbold, 20 July, BD, XI, no. 68.

· 67  Otte, July Crisis, p. 142.

· 68  Pourtalès to Bethmann Hollweg, 21 July, DDK, I, nr 120.

· 69  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 21 July, O-UA, VIII, 10461.

· 70  Gerd Krumeich, Armaments and Politics in France on the Eve of the First World War: The Introduction of Three-Year Conscription, 1913–14, trans. Stephen Conn (Leamington Spa 1984), p. 219. Stefan Schmidt has argued that Poincaré was pushing Russia to take a hard line against Austria, and that he promised French military support for such a line. The evidence for this is not convincing; Frankreichs Außenpolitik in der Julikrise 1914 (Munich 2007), especially pp. 354–6.

· 71  Otte, July Crisis, p. 200. Otte argues that Poincaré changed his views completely on that day and that he had the impression that the tsar was more determined than Sazonov to defend Serbia diplomatically. But it is difficult to discern any meaningful change in French diplomacy: Poincaré had long insisted that the Russian alliance was the key to French security and from this position he never wavered during the crisis.

· 72  John Keiger, Raymond Poincaré (Cambridge 1997), pp. 167–8. Christopher Clark’s claim in The Sleepwalkers: How Europe Went to War I 1914 (New York 2012), that the Franco-Russian meetings were ‘centrally concerned’ with the Balkan situation is not supported by the evidence. See Otte, July Crisis, pp. 208–9.

· 73  Report on visit of the French Ambassador to the Foreign Office, 22 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10491.

· 74  John Deak, ‘The Great War and the Forgotten Realm: The Habsburg Monarchy and the First World War’, Journal of Modern History 86 (2014), pp. 374.

· 75  The prime minister, Pašić, was busy campaigning and absent from Belgrade. Crown Prince Alexander had been made regent on 24 June when his father, King Peter, agreed to step down.

· 76  Clark argues that the Russians were ‘pretty fully apprised of what the Austrians had in store’ and thus Sazonov’s suggestion that news of the ultimatum came as a ‘terrible shock’ was nonsense: The Sleepwalkers, p. 428.

· 77  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 3.35 p.m., 24 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10616.

· 78  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 8.25 p.m., 24 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10617.

· 79  Buchanan to Grey, telegram, 5.40 p.m., 24 July, BD, XI, no. 101.

· 80  Paléologue to Bienvenu-Martin, telegram, 9.12 p.m., 24 July, DDF, XI, no. 21.

· 81  Most commentators are highly critical of Paléologue’s diplomacy. Recently, Otte has echoed their criticisms: ‘The ambassador’s reports contained carefully calibrated doses of selective information, calculated half-truths and positive untruths.’ July Crisis, p. 248. However, there is little actual evidence that Paléologue exceeded official and well-established French policy in repeating the mantra that France would fulfill its obligations to its Russian ally. It would have been much more surprising if he had suggested that France might fail to live up to its commitments. The argument that Poincaré’s ‘policy of firmness’ resulted from the ‘distorted picture’ transmitted by Paléologue – who had ‘hijacked’ French policy decisions (p. 254) is difficult to sustain. And to assert that the French government had not committed to support Russia, that ‘only its ambassador in St Petersburg had done so’ is certainly, an exaggeration.

· 82  John W. Young, ‘Ambassador George Buchanan and the July Crisis’, International History Review 40 (2018), p. 219.

· 83  Buchanan to Grey, telegram, 5.40 p.m., 24 July 24, 1914. BD, XI, no. 101.

· 84  Ibid. Douglas Newton’s criticism of Buchanan for sympathizing with Sazonov and Paléologue at this meeting, seems misplaced. See The Darkest Days: The Truth Behind Britain’s Rush to War, 1914 (London 2014), pp. 20–1. McMeekin goes even farther in July 1914, complaining that Buchanan’s reports on Russian military preparations were ‘about as ill-informed as diplomatic dispatches could be’ (p. 238), that he was ‘willfully ignorant’ (p. 246), and that his reporting from St Petersburg was ‘lazy’ (p. 356) and ‘inept’ (p. 403). Young has convincingly demonstrated that Buchanan did not fail to report preparations and preached caution to them up to 28 July. See ‘Ambassador George Buchanan and the July Crisis’, pp. 213.

· 85  The source for this summary is the unpublished memoir of the minister of finance, Peter Bark; summarized in D.C.B. Lieven, Russia and the Origins of the First World War (London 1983), pp. 141–4.

· 86  McMeekin in July 1914 asserts that when Sazonov met with the Serbian Minister he advised him that Serbia should make a show of moderation but not yield, that Serbia could count on Russian aid and, if it came to war ‘Russia would fight on her behalf’ p. 186. McMeekin does not consider that Spalajković, a zealous proponent of a Greater Serbia and a committed opponent of the Habsburg empire, may have exaggerated Sazonov’s assurances of support.

· 87  Pourtalès to Foreign Office, telegram, 1.08 a.m., 25 July, DDK, I, nr 160; Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 2.30 a.m., 25 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10620.

· 88  Pourtalès to Foreign Office, telegram, 1.08 a.m., 25 July, DDK, I, nr 160.

· 89  Bienvenu-Martin to Viviani [and to Belgrade, London, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Vienna, Rome], telegram, 9.30 p.m., 24 July, DDF, XI, no. 22.

· 90  Schoen to Foreign Office, telegram, 8.05 p.m., 24 July, DDK, I, nr 154.

· 91  Grey to de Bunsen, telegram, 1.30 p.m., 24 July, BD, XI, no. 91.

· 92  Michael and Eleanor Brock (eds), H.H. Asquith: Letters to Venetia Stanley (Oxford 1982), p. 123.

· 93  Szögyény to Berchtold, telegram, 8.45 p.m., 25 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10659.

· 94  Berchtold Daily Report, 24 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10615.

· 95  Bienvenu-Martin to Viviani, telegram, 5.00 p.m., 25 July, DDF, XI, no. 47.

· 96  The argument of Levy and Mulligan that the ‘strong support’ of Russia encouraged Serb intransigence is simply unsustainable. Jack S. Levy and William Mulligan, ‘Shifting Power, Preventive Logic, and the Response of the Target: Germany, Russia, and the First World War’, Journal of Strategic Studies 40 (2017), p. 740. Otte’s argument that ‘From the beginning … it was clear that Serbia was determined to resist the Austro-Hungarian demands’ (July Crisis, p. 226) is misleading, as they prepared to make concessions from the moment that they received the ultimatum. The question remained open as to what these might consist of.

· 97  Paléologue to Bienvenu-Martin, telegram, 6.22 p.m., 25 July, DDF, XI, no. 50.

· 98  Sazonov’s hopeful assumption of British support was, according to Otte, ‘based on a profound misunderstanding of British policy’, July Crisis, p. 245.

· 99  Grey to Buchanan, telegram, 25 July, BD, XI, no. 112.

· 100  See Adam James Bones, ‘British National Dailies and the Outbreak of War in 1914’, International History Review 35 (2013), pp. 975–92.

· 101  Clark is dismissive of these efforts, arguing that Grey ‘subordinated his understanding of the Austro-Serbian quarrel to the larger imperatives of the Entente’, which meant ‘tacitly supporting Russian policy’, Sleepwalkers, p. 495, and insists that Grey’s proposed mediation was ‘half-hearted’, p. 559. But his disdain for Grey is obvious throughout: Grey (and Paul Cambon) ‘personified’ the Entente and he was ‘wary, evasive and totally ignorant of France and of Europe’ p. 539.

· 102  Grey to Buchanan, 25 July, BD, XI, no. 132.

· 103  De Bunsen to Grey, telegram, 11.20 p.m., 25 July, BD, XI, no. 135.

· 104  Quoted in Galántai, Hungary in the First World War, p. 57.

· 105  Spalajković to Paču, telegram, 4.10 a.m., 26 July, no. 584, Vladimir Dedijer and Života Anić (eds) Dokumenti o spolnoj politici Kraljevine Srbije (Belgrade); quoted in Clark, Sleepwalkers, p. 468. Spalajković exaggerated the Russian commitment in order to forward his agenda. Although Sazonov promised that Serbia could rely on Russian support he offered nothing specific and counselled the government to show ‘extreme moderation’ in responding to the Austrian demands and not to offer any military resistance. See Otte, July Crisis, p. 238.

· 106  Pourtalès to Foreign Office, telegram, 3.15 p.m. [received at Foreign Office 7.01 p.m.], 26 July, DDK, I, nr 217.

· 107  Pourtalès to Foreign Office, telegram, 10.10 p.m., 26 July, DDK, I, nr 238.

· 108  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, private, 4.30 a.m., 27 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10758. The reports of the military attaché to Berlin are not to be found in DDK because of the administrative/political structure of the Kaiserreich. In Bismarck’s time attachés reported to the chancellor, through the German minister in the country of their posting. But in 1890 the kaiser instituted a new régime by which attachés were responsible to him directly – and upon receiving their messages and reports, he would determine who else might receive them. Thus, it was entirely possible for even the chancellor – let alone the secretary of state – not to know what a military or naval attaché was telling the kaiser. See Lamar Cecil, German Diplomatic Service 1871–1914 (Princeton, NJ 1976), pp. 124–38.

· 109  Nicolson to Grey, telegram, undated [26 July], BD, XI, no. 139. McMeekin chastises Nicolson for his presentation of the proposal for the disinterested powers to meet a quatre, arguing that his ‘unfortunate’ diplomatic performance managed to provoke Germany on no less than four grounds’, July 1914, p. 215.

· 110  Bethmann Hollweg to Lichnowsky, telegram, ‘urgent’, 1.35 p.m., 26 July, DDK, I, nr 199.

· 111  Michael S. Neiberg, Dance of the Furies (Cambridge, MA 2013), p. 72.

· 112  Recent historians have been more critical: McMeekin says that the final version of the reply ‘reneged on many of the promises made earlier’ and that the four clauses that Serbia accepted in principle came with ‘enough conditions and camouflage as not to suggest compliance in practice’, July 1914, p. 198; while Clark says that the Serbs invested ‘immense effort’ in creating ‘the appearance of offering the maximum possible compliance’ – the result of which ‘was a masterpiece of diplomatic equivocation’ which offered ‘a subtle cocktail of acceptances, conditional acceptances, evasions and rejections’; Clark, Sleepwalkers, pp. 463–4.

· 113  Grey’s view of the reply was strikingly different than that of recent historians: Otte dismisses it as a brilliant display ‘of diplomatic and legal sophistry’ (July Crisis, p. 283) while Clark goes even further in denouncing it as ‘pure obfuscation’, and ‘highly perfumed’, dismissing it as offering the Austrians ‘amazingly little’ and designed to persuade Serbia’s friends rather than accommodate Austria (Sleepwalkers, p. 466).

· 114  McMeekin accuses Bethmann of ‘sugar coating’ the situation in his reports to the kaiser and that he deliberately misled him; July 1914, pp. 225–6.

· 115  Quoted in Luigi Albertini, The Origins of the War of 1914, trans. Isabella M. Massey (Oxford 1952), Vol. II, p. 438. Otte argues that Bethmann used the threat of mobilization in order to deter Russia, believing that it would not risk war with Germany and that ‘localization’ of the conflict might lead to closer arrangements with either Britain or Russia in the future (July Crisis, pp. 309–11).

· 116  Pourtalès to Foreign Office, telegram 8.40 p.m., 27 July, DDK, I, nr 282. The editors of DDK mistakenly identified this telegram as being despatched on the 28th. Sazonov’s position here would seem to refute Clark’s charge that he ‘never acknowledged that Austria-Hungary had a right to counter-measures in the face of Serbian irredentism’, Sleepwalkers, p. 481.

· 117  McMeekin dismisses Grey’s initiative, arguing that he demonstrated that he was impervious to any evidence of Russia’s ‘warlike intentions’ and that he had already taken sides ‘despite his pose of disinterestedness’; July 1914, p. 238.

· 118  Lichnowsky to Foreign Office, telegram, 5.08 p.m., 27 July, DDK, I, nr 265. Otte asserts that the rejection of his advice ‘underlines the recklessness of decision-making at Berlin’ and indicates ‘an element of self-delusion’, July Crisis, p. 302.

· 119  Marginal notation by kaiser on the reply of the Serbian government to the Austro-Hungarian ultimatum, DDK, I, nr 271.

· 120  Ibid.

· 121  According to Otte, Bethmann remained ‘rather hawkish’ and under his leadership the Wilhelmstrasse sought to gain time until the Monarchy was ready to strike: ‘Diplomatic moves were a smokescreen to protect Vienna from the probings of the Powers prior to the opening of hostilities.’ July Crisis, p. 326.

· 122  McMeekin condemns Berchtold’s decision to declare war as ‘a kind of perverse antidiplomacy’ aiming to start the war before the Powers could stop it, that mediation would be impossible if the war had started: ‘It is hard to think of a policy more inept’ and it was ‘suicidal’ for the Central Powers. July 1914, pp. 245–6.

· 123  Kaiser to Tsar, telegram, 1.45 a.m., 29 July, [dated 28 July] DDK, II, nr 335.

· 124  Tsar to kaiser, telegram, 29 July [received at Neue Palais at 1.10 a.m.], DDK, II, nr 332.

· 125  Great General Staff to Chancellor, 29 July, DDK, II, nr 349. The military were not alone in fearing the worst: Clark argues that Russia’s partial mobilization of the 29th ‘injected an element of panic into German diplomacy’, Sleepwalkers, p. 525.

· 126  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 10 a.m., 29 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 10999.

· 127  Grey to Bertie, 29 July, BD, XI, no. 283.

· 128  R.B. Haldane to Elizabeth Haldane, 29 July, 1914, Haldane MSS, NLA, MS 5991; quoted in Otte, July Crisis, p. 389.

· 129  Goschen to Grey, telegram, secret and urgent, 1.20 a.m., 30 July, BD, XI, no. 293; Note by Bethmann Hollweg, 29 July, DDK, II, nr 373. Otte concludes that this ‘crass manoeuvre’ only helped to convince London of Germany’s willingness to go to war; July Crisis, p. 409.

· 130  David Stevenson, ‘Battlefield or Barrier? Rearmament and Military Planning in Belgium, 1902–1914’, International History Review 29 (2007), p. 506.

· 131  Jagow to Below, sent by imperial messenger, p.m., 29 July, DDK, II, nr 376. Jagow’s instructions were based on a draft begun on 26 July by the chief of the general staff, then revised by the under-secretary of state and the chancellor.

· 132  McMeekin condemns this manoeuvre as ‘the most incompetent policy possible’ – demanding concessions from the Russians while refusing to warn them that Germany would respond to their secret mobilization. ‘He had gotten his carrots and sticks backwards’ and he ‘blundered into the most counter-productive policy imaginable.’ July 1914, pp. 255 and 269. Clark, on the other hand, argues that, if the Russians opted for war, this would mean that they had wanted one and thereby would justify Germany’s decision to mobilize as a pre-emptive military measure, whereas the military measures being considered by Russia ‘did not arise from a direct threat to Russia, and were highly likely … to further escalate the crisis.’ Sleepwalkers, p. 476.

· 133  Quoted in Albertini, Origins of the War, II, p. 558.

· 134  Bethmann Hollweg to Tschirschky, telegram, 3 a.m. [received in Vienna at 10 a.m.], 30 July, DDK, II, nr 396.

· 135  Tsar to kaiser, telegram, 1.20 a.m., 30 July, DDK, II, nr 390.

· 136  Kaiser’s marginal notations on ibid. It is not clear precisely when the kaiser made his comments; the telegram was received at the Neue Palais at 1.45 a.m. on the 30th, and by that afternoon the annotated telegram was received at the Foreign Office in Berlin. David Alan Rich has argued that, given the enormity of the task of mobilizing Russian forces and the relative backwardness of their transportation and communication infrastructure, it had to begin mobilization earlier than others, and that, unlike the German situation, its mobilization did not ‘mean war’. David Alan Rich, ‘Russia’, in Richard F. Hamilton and Holger H. Herwig (eds), The Origins of World War I (Cambridge 2003), pp. 188–226.

· 137  Tschirschky to Foreign Office, telegram, 30 July (sent 1.35 a.m., 31 July), DDK, II, nr 465.

· 138  Berchtold to Szápáry, telegram, 1.20 p.m., 30 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 11092.

· 139  Szápáry to Berchtold, telegram, 1 a.m. (received in Vienna, 3.15 p.m.) 30 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 11094.

· 140  Lieutenant-Colonel Bienerth (Austrian military attaché in Berlin) to Conrad, Aus meiner Dienstzeit, IV, p. 152.

· 141  Otte argues that there was no reason for Sazonov to rush the decision to mobilize, that even after the shelling of Belgrade it was clear that Austria would not be ready for a major offensive against Serbia for 10–12 days and thus there was no need ‘for Russia to force the pace of events’; that there was still time for diplomacy and that any form of Russian mobilization ‘was always likely to be the wrong choice.’ July Crisis, p. 401.

· 142  Note by Abel Ferry, under-secretary of state for foreign affairs, 30 July, DDF, XI, no. 305, note 2.

· 143  Lewis Harcourt political diary, quoted in John W. Young, ‘Lewis Harcourt’s Journal of the 1914 War Crisis’, International History Review 40 (2018), p. 442.

· 144  Grey to Goschen, telegram, 3.30 p.m., 30 July, BD, XI, no. 303.

· 145  King George V to Prince Heinrich of Prussia, 8.45 p.m., 30 July, DDK II, no. 452.

· 146  Bethmann Hollweg to Tschirschky, telegram, urgent, 3 a.m., 31 July (drafted in the chancellor’s hand, and submitted to the telegraph office in Berlin at 9 p.m., 30 July), DDK, II, nr 441.

· 147  Berchtold to Franz Josef, 14 July 1914, O-UA, VIII, nr 10272; quoted in Otte, July Crisis, p. 159.

· 148  Cabinet council for mutual affairs, 31 July, O-UA, VIII, nr 11203.

· 149  Pease diary, 31 July, Quoted in Keith Wilson, Policy of the Entente: Essays on the Determinants of British Foreign Policy, 1904–1919 (Cambridge 1985), p. 136.

· 150  Grey to Goschen, telegram, 2.45 p.m., 31 July, BD, XI, no. 340.

· 151  Nevertheless, Clark argues that nothing in the way that Germany reacted to the events of the summer suggests that they viewed the crisis as an opportunity ‘to set in train a long-laid plan to unleash a preventive war on Germany’s neighbours, that far from being masters of the situation ‘German policy-makers appeared to be struggling to stay abreast of developments.’ Sleepwalkers, p. 520.

· 152  Viviani to Paléologue, telegram, 5 p.m., 31 July, DDF, XI, no. 405.

· 153  Bethmann Hollweg to Schoen, telegram, urgent, 3.30 p.m., 31 July, DDK, III, nr 491.

· 154  Jagow to Pourtalès, telegram, urgent, 12.52 p.m., 1 Aug., DDK, III, nr 542.

· 155  Tsar to Kaiser, telegram, 2.06 p.m., 1 Aug.; received at palace 2.05 p.m. [central European time], DDK, III, nr 546.

· 156  Grey to Bertie, telegram, 8.20 p.m., 1 Aug., BD, XI, no. 426. Grey has been criticized throughout the last century for having failed to be more explicit in warning Germany that Britain was likely to intervene in a European war – which critics say may have averted a general war. Recently, Otte has concluded that such criticism was ill-founded and that Grey’s strategy of ‘studied ambiguity’ was the most sensible course up until now; July Crisis, p. 393.

· 157  Keith Eubank, Paul Cambon: Master Diplomatist (Norman, OK 1960), p. 175.

· 158  Quoted in Keiger, Poincaré, p. 181.

· 159  Falkenhayn diary for 1 Aug., quoted in Albertini, Origins of the War, III, p. 169.

· 160  Quoted in Eubank, Paul Cambon, p. 179.

· 161  Cabinet diary of J.A. Pease (chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster) quoted in Wilson, Policy of the Entente, p. 140.

· 162  Quoted in Bernard Wasserstein, Herbert Samuel, A Political Life (Oxford 1992), p. 162.

· 163  The Times, 3 Aug. 1914, p. 8.

· 164  Quoted in Paul B. Miller, From Revolutionaries to Citizens: Antimilitarism in France, 1870–1914 (Durham, NC 2001), p. 210.

· 165  See John W. Young, ‘Conservative Leaders, Coalition, and Britain’s Decision for War in 1914’, Diplomacy & Statecraft 25 (2014), pp. 214–39.

· 166  Clark defends the ultimatum as ‘the only possible way to strike a deal of some kind with Brussels and thereby keep Britain out of the war.’ Sleepwalkers, p. 549.

· 167  Quoted in Jean Stengers, ‘Belgium’, in Keith Wilson (ed.), Decisions for War (London 1995), p. 161.

· 168  Quoted in Wasserstein, Herbert Samuel, pp. 163–4.

· 169  Hansard, debates, 3 Aug., column 1815.

· 170  Bethmann Hollweg to Schoen, telegram, urgent, 1.05 p.m., 3 Aug. DDK, III, nr 734. The reports proved to be false.

· 171  Poincaré diary, 3 Aug., quoted in Krumeich, Armaments and Politics, p. 229. Otte argues that ‘Nothing was done at Paris to prevent war’ and suggests this can be attributed to Paléologue and Poincaré prioritizing ‘alliance unity over all other considerations’, July Crisis, pp. 422–3. Until the end, he says, ‘Paléologue continued his practice of feeding Paris carefully calibrated half-truths with the aim of preventing any attempt by the French government to restrain Russia’, p. 431.

· 172  Paul Cambon to Viviani, telegram, 12.17 a.m., 4 Aug., DDF, XI, no. 712.

· 173  Jagow to Below, telegram, urgent, 9.20 a.m., 4 Aug., DDK, III, nr 805.

· 174  Grey to Goschen, telegram, 9.30 a.m., 4 Aug., BD, XI, no. 573.

· 175  Jagow to Lichnowsky, telegram, 10.20 a.m., DDK, III, nr 810.

· 176  Grey to Villiers, telegram 10.45 a.m., BD, XI, no. 580.

· 177  Grey to Goschen, telegram, 2 p.m., 4 Aug., BD, XI, no. 594. Clark argues that the Foreign Office willingly accepted ‘a European war on terms set by Russia’, that British mistrust of Russia ‘reinforced the case for intervention.’ Sleepwalkers, p. 557.

· 178  Collected Diplomatic Documents Relating to the Outbreak of the European War (London 1915), pp. 436–9.

· 179  www.firstworldwar.com/source/poincare_aug1914.htm

· 180  George V diary, 4 Aug., quoted in Kenneth Rose, King George V (London 1983), p. 168.