A scrap of paper

by Emile Joseph Dillon

Traditional Austrian Courtesy.

After seeing Mr. Penfield, the United States Ambassador, who accepted immediately in the most friendly spirit my request that his Excellency would take charge provisionally of British interests in Austria-Hungary during the unfortunate interruption of relations, I proceeded, with Mr. Theo Russell, Counsellor of his Majesty’s Embassy, to the Ballplatz. Count Berchtold received me at midday. I delivered my message, for which his Excellency did not seem to be unprepared, although he told me that a long telegram from Count Mensdorff had just come in, but had not yet been brought to him. His Excellency received my communication with the courtesy which never leaves him. He deplored the unhappy complications which were drawing such good friends as Austria and England into war. In point of fact, he added, Austria did not consider herself then at war with France, though diplomatic relations with that country had been broken off. I explained in a few words how circumstances had forced this unwelcome conflict upon us. We both avoided useless argument. Then I ventured to recommend to his Excellency’s consideration the case of the numerous stranded British subjects at Carlsbad, Vienna, and other places throughout the country. I had already had some correspondence with him on the subject, and his Excellency took a note of what I said, and promised to see what could be done to get them away when the stress of mobilization should be over. Count Berchtold agreed to, Mr. Phillpotts, till then British Consul at Vienna under Consul-General Sir Frederick Duncan, being left by me at the Embassy in the capacity of Chargé des Archives. He presumed a similar privilege would not be refused in England if desired on behalf of the Austro-Hungarian Government. I took leave of Count Berchtold with sincere regret, having received from the day of my arrival in Vienna, not quite nine months before, many marks of friendship and consideration from his Excellency. As I left I begged his Excellency to present my profound respects to the Emperor Francis Joseph, together with an expression of my hope that his Majesty would pass through these sad times with unimpaired health and strength. Count Berchtold was pleased to say he would deliver my message.

Count Walterskirchen, of the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Office, was deputed the following morning to bring me my passport and to acquaint me with the arrangements made for my departure that evening (August 14th). In the course of the day Countess Berchtold and other ladies of Vienna society called to take leave of Lady de Bunsen at the Embassy. We left the railway station by special train for the Swiss frontier at 7 p.m. No disagreeable incidents occurred. Count Walterskirchen was present at the station on behalf of Count Berchtold. The journey was necessarily slow, owing to the encumbered state of the line. We reached Buchs, on the Swiss frontier, early in the morning of August 17th. At the first halting place there had been some hooting and stone throwing on the part of the entraining troops and station officials, but no inconvenience was caused, and at the other large stations on our route we found that ample measures had been taken to preserve us from molestation as well as to provide us with food. I was left in no doubt that the Austro-Hungarian Government had desired that the journey should be performed under the most comfortable conditions possible, and that I should receive on my departure all the marks of consideration due to his Majesty’s representative. I was accompanied by my own family and the entire staff of the Embassy, for whose untiring zeal and efficient help in trying times I desire to express my sincere thanks.

Germany’s first care, once Russia and France had been provoked to take up arms, was to make British neutrality quite secure. It had been relied upon from the very inception of the German plan down to the moment[27] when Sir Edward Grey delivered his telling speech in the House of Commons. British neutrality was an unquestioned postulate which lay at the very root of the scheme engineered by the Empire-builders of Berlin. And they clung to it throughout with the tenacity of drowning men holding on to a frozen plank in Polar seas.

CHAPTER IX
BRITISH NEUTRALITY AND BELLIGERENCY

Over and over again I heard the chances of British neutrality and belligerency discussed by statesmen of the two military Empires, and the odds in favour of our holding strictly aloof from hostilities were set down as equivalent to certainty. The grounds for this conviction were numerous, and to them convincing. Great Britain, it was argued, possesses no land army capable of throwing an expeditionary force of any value into the Continental arena. All her fighting strength is concentrated in her navy, which could render but slight positive services to the mighty hosts in the field with whom the issue would lie. Consequently the losses she would sustain by breaking off commercial intercourse with her best customer would be enormous as compared to the slender help she could give her friends. And if the worst came to the worst Germany might take that help as given, and promise in return for neutrality to guarantee spontaneously whatever the British Navy might be supposed capable of protecting efficaciously.

Again, public opinion in Great Britain is opposed to war and to Continental entanglements. And for that reason no binding engagements have been entered into by the British Government towards France or Russia, even during the course of the present crisis. Had any intention been harboured to swerve from this course, it would doubtless have manifested itself in some tangible shape before now. But no tokens of any such deviation from the traditional policy has been perceived. On the contrary, it is well known to the German Government that the Cabinet actually in power consists of Ministers who are averse on principle to a policy which might entangle their country in a Continental war, and who will stand up for that principle if ever it be called in question. And in support of this contention words or acts ascribed to the Cabinet and to certain of its members were quoted and construed as pointing to the same conclusion.

One little syllogism in particular engraved itself on my memory. It ran somewhat as follows. The Asquith Cabinet is dependent on the votes of the Radicals and the Irish Home Rulers. Now, the former hate Russia cordially, and will not allow this opportunity of humiliating her to lapse unutilized. And the latter, with a little war of their own to wage, have no superfluous energies to devote to a foreign campaign. Consequently, the Government, even were it desirous of embarking on a warlike adventure, is powerless. It cannot swim against a current set by its own supporters.

Those and other little sums in equation were almost always capped by a conclusive reference to the impending civil war in Ireland and England, the danger of risings in Egypt and India, and the constant trouble with the suffragettes. Whenever this topic came up for discussion I was invariably a silent listener, so conversant were the debaters with all the aspects and bearings of the Ulster movement, and so eager were they to display their knowledge. I learned, for instance, that numerous German agents, journalists, and one diplomatist well known to social London had studied the question on the spot, and entertained no doubt that a fratricidal struggle was about to begin. I received the condolence of my eminent friends on the impending break-up of old England, and I heard the reiterated dogma that with her hands thus full she would steer clear of the conflict between the groups of Continental Great Powers. I was comforted, however, by the assurance that at the close of hostilities Great Britain might make her moderating influence felt to good purpose and resume the praiseworthy efforts to the failure of which the coming catastrophe was to be attributed.

In all these close calculations the decisive element of national character was left out, with the consequences we see. Despite their powers of observation and analysis, the Germans, even those who are gifted and experienced, are devoid of some indefinable inner sense without which they must ever lack true insight into the soul-stuff, the dormant qualities of the people whose wrath they have wantonly aroused. To the realm of British thought and feeling they, with their warped psychological equipment, find no access. Its secondary characteristics they grasp with their noted thoroughness and seek to practise upon with their traditional cynicism. But the deeper springs of our race-character, its clear-souled faith, its masculine vigour, and its vast reserve of elemental force, lie beyond their narrow range of vision. To the sentient and perceptive powers even of the most acute German observer, the workings of the British soul, its inherited nobilities, its deep moral feeling, are inaccessible. And here, more than in any other branch of the “intelligence department,” a little knowledge is indeed a dangerous thing.