How the Nations Waged War. J. M. Kennedy
separation from our late fellow workers. He would readily understand that no one regretted this more than I.
After this somewhat painful interview I returned to the Embassy, and drew up a telegraphic report of what had passed. This telegram was handed in at the Central Telegraph Office a little before nine p.m. It was accepted by that office, but apparently never dispatched.[3]
At about 9.30 p.m. Herr von Zimmermann, the Under-Secretary of State, came to see me. After expressing his deep regret that the very friendly official and personal relations between us were about to cease, he asked me casually whether a demand for passports was equivalent to a declaration of war. I said that such an authority on international law as he was known to be must know as well as or better than I what was usual in such cases. I added that there were many cases where diplomatic relations had been broken off, and, nevertheless, war had not ensued; but that in this case he would have seen from my instructions, of which I given Herr von Jagow a written summary, that his Majesty's Government expected an answer to a definite question by twelve o'clock that night, and that in default of a satisfactory answer they would be forced to take such steps as their engagements required. Herr von Zimmermann said that that was, in fact, a declaration of war, as the Imperial Government could not possibly give the assurance required either that night or any other night.
In the meantime, after Herr von Zimmermann left me, a flying sheet, issued by the Berliner Tageblatt, was circulated stating that Great Britain had declared war against Germany. The immediate result of this news was the assemblage of an exceedingly excited and unruly mob before his Majesty's Embassy. The small force of police which had been sent to guard the Embassy was soon overpowered, and the attitude of the mob became more threatening. We took no notice of this demonstration as long as it was confined to noise, but when the crash of glass and the landing of cobble-stones into the drawing-room where we were all sitting, warned us that the situation was getting unpleasant, I telephoned to the Foreign Office an account of what was happening. Herr von Jagow at once informed the Chief of Police, and an adequate force of mounted police, sent with great promptness, very soon cleared the street. From that moment on we were well guarded, and no more direct unpleasantness occurred.
After order had been restored Herr von Jagow came to see me and expressed his most heartfelt regrets at what had occurred. He said that the behaviour of his countrymen had made him feel more ashamed than he had words to express. It was an indelible stain on the reputation of Berlin. He said that the flying sheet circulated in the streets had not been authorized by the Government; in fact, the Chancellor had asked him by telephone whether he thought that such a statement should be issued, and he had replied, "Certainly not, until the morning." It was in consequence of his decision to that effect that only a small force of police had been sent to the neighbourhood of the Embassy, as he had thought that the presence of a large force would inevitably attract attention and perhaps lead to disturbances.
It was the "pestilential Tageblatt," which had somehow got hold of the news, and had upset his calculations. He had heard rumours that the mob had been excited to violence by gestures made and missiles thrown from the Embassy, but he felt sure that that was not true (I was able soon to assure him that the report had no foundation whatever), and even if it was, it was no excuse for the disgraceful scenes which had taken place. He feared that I would take home with me a sorry impression of Berlin manners in moments of excitement. In fact, no apology could have been more full and complete.
Another remarkable passage in the Dispatch is that in which Sir E. Goschen describes the Kaiser's indignation and his resolve to divest himself of his English titles:
On the following morning, August 5th, the Emperor sent one of his Majesty's aides-de-camp to me with the following message: "The Emperor has charged me to express to your Excellency his regret for the occurrences of last night, but to tell you at the same time that you will gather from those occurrences an idea of the feelings of his people respecting the action of Great Britain in joining with other nations against her old allies of Waterloo. His Majesty also begs that you will tell the King that he has been proud of the titles of British Field-Marshal and British Admiral, but that in consequence of what has occurred he must now at once divest himself of these titles."
This resolve was made known in a manner which indicated that the attitude of the English Government was keenly felt at Potsdam. "I would add," remarks the Ambassador, "that the above message lost none of its acerbity by the manner of its delivery."
The Dispatch continues:
On the other hand, I should like to state that I received all through this trying time nothing but courtesy at the hands of Herr von Jagow and the officials of the Imperial Foreign Office. At about eleven o'clock on the same morning Count Wedel handed me my passports—which I had earlier in the day demanded in writing—and told me that he had been instructed to confer with me as to the route which I should follow for my return to England. He said that he had understood that I preferred the route via the Hook of Holland to that via Copenhagen; they had therefore arranged that I should go by the former route, only I should have to wait till the following morning. I agreed to this, and he said that I might be quite assured that there would be no repetition of the disgraceful scenes of the preceding night, as full precautions would be taken. He added that they were doing all in their power to have a restaurant car attached to the train, but it was rather a difficult matter. He also brought me a charming letter from Herr von Jagow, couched in the most friendly terms. The day was passed in packing up such articles as time allowed.
The night passed quietly without any incident. In the morning a strong force of police was posted along the usual route to the Lehrter Station, while the Embassy was smuggled away in taxi-cabs to the station by side streets. We there suffered no molestation whatever, and avoided the treatment meted out by the crowd to my Russian and French colleagues. Count Wedel met us at the station to say good-bye on behalf of Herr von Jagow and to see that all the arrangements ordered for our comfort had been properly carried out. A retired colonel of the Guards accompanied the train to the Dutch frontier, and was exceedingly kind in his efforts to prevent the great crowds, which thronged the platforms at every station where we stopped, from insulting us; but beyond the yelling of patriotic songs and a few jeers and insulting gestures we had really nothing to complain of during our tedious journey to the Dutch frontier.
Before closing this long account of our last days in Berlin I should like to place on record and bring to your notice the quite admirable behaviour of my staff under the most trying circumstances possible. One and all, they worked night and day with scarcely any rest, and I cannot praise too highly the cheerful zeal with which counsellor, naval and military attachés, secretaries, and the two young attachés buckled to their work and kept their nerve with often a yelling mob outside, and inside, hundreds of British subjects clamouring for advice and assistance. I was proud to have such a staff to work with, and feel most grateful to them all for the invaluable assistance and support, often exposing them to considerable personal risk, which they so readily and cheerfully gave to me.
I should also like to mention the great assistance rendered to us all by my American colleague, Mr. Gerard, and his staff. Undeterred by the hooting and hisses with which he was often greeted by the mob on entering and leaving the Embassy, his Excellency came repeatedly to see me to ask how he could help us, and to make arrangements for the safety of stranded British subjects. He extricated many of these from extremely difficult situations at some personal risk to himself, and his calmness and savoir-faire and his firmness in dealing with the Imperial authorities gave full assurance that the protection of British subjects and interests could not have been left in more efficient and able hands.
At the sitting of the House of Commons on August 26th, Mr. Keir Hardie exhibited a tendency to quibble and to show his own country in a wrong light. His interference on this occasion was, from his point of view, fruitless; but it had the advantage of enabling the Foreign Secretary to make an effective reply. In his statement, Sir Edward Grey dealt with a few points which, although not at all obscure, were all the better for emphasizing. The temper of the House is sufficiently well indicated by the cheers and interruptions recorded in the following report:
Mr. Keir Hardie (Lab., Merthyr Tydvil) inquired of the Foreign Secretary