The great European War that broke out in 1914 was the inevitable result of the conditions that moulded the nineteenth century. In many respects the history of the century had disappointed the high hopes with which the period opened. The overthrow of Napoleon’s hegemony in 1814 imposed on his conquerors the task of effecting the settlement of Europe, and it was expected that the chief Powers would grasp the opportunity to settle all questions that had been a source of friction, and especially to satisfy those nationalist aspirations which had been the most potent factor in contributing to the defeat of Napoleon. It was even hoped that an attempt would be made to realise the brotherhood of man in some sort of federation.
In all these respects the work accomplished by the Congress, which met at Vienna in 1814, fell short of expectations. The chief statesmen of the Powers had been the foremost opponents of the French Revolution, and they had little sympathy with the nationalist sentiment that found its most vigorous expression in Germany, Italy, and Poland. Moreover, the political ambitions and interests of the allies required the most delicate handling, if Europe was to be saved from another war. Thus the Eastern Question, the cause of considerable uneasiness throughout the century, never came within the consideration of the Congress. No attempt was made to express the unity of Europe in any form of federation, unless the Holy Alliance be accepted as an effort to achieve that end. Above all, the necessity of satisfying the political interests of the various members of the alliance, in many cases already arranged by treaties, caused nationalist aspirations to be neglected, and in some cases flagrantly disregarded, as in the arrangements affecting Belgium, Italy, and Norway. Thus Nationalism could only be developed in opposition to the Vienna Settlement and only by war could its aims be realised. In consequence the development of nationalities, which is the notable fact of the century, was accompanied by the assertion of military force, and the freedom of nations went hand in hand with militarism. What had been won by the sword was maintained by the same means, and towards the close of the nineteenth century Europe formed an armed camp, each nation supporting a huge armament, which drained its resources but which it dared not diminish lest it should fall a prey to a more powerful neighbour.
With Europe thus constituted every question that revealed rivalries and differences was a peril, and there was no influence so baneful as that exercised by the Eastern Question. On more than one occasion it caused the gravest anxiety to the Chancelleries of Europe, and war was averted mainly by reason of the comparative equality of the opposing groups formed by the chief states. In the last quarter of the century the predominance of Germany was the governing factor in the situation. She built up an alliance of the Central European states and her influence displaced that of Russia in Constantinople. The full scope of her ambitions was not realised in this country, but it was vaguely felt that they were not compatible with the interests of the British Empire. Certain definite events showed that German policy, though not actively hostile, was unfriendly to us. She seized the opportunity created by the Jameson Raid to fling the first open challenge to British power, and one of the principal results of the Boer War was the creation of the German Fleet, which could only have been intended as a weapon against Britain. In other directions the claims and threats of Germany constituted a constant danger to the peace of the world. She picked quarrels with France over Morocco in 1904 and 1911, and openly made preparations to support Austria against Russia in 1907. Her increasing truculence in foreign affairs ultimately forced Britain, France, and Russia into a close agreement in order to safeguard their interests.
The occasion of war was the assassination of the Austrian Archduke Francis Ferdinand in the streets of Serajevo on the 28th June 1914. But the emotions aroused by this despicable crime would never have led to war had it not been for the determination of Germany to bring matters to a crisis. Her designs in the Balkans and Asia Minor largely depended upon the cordial co-operation of Austria, of which she could be certain only while the Emperor Francis Joseph was alive. In 1914 he was already over eighty years of age, and it was advisable to turn to account the quarrel between Serbia and Austria caused by the Serajevo murder.
The nature of her ties with France and Russia as well as the invasion of Belgium by German forces compelled Britain to take arms against Germany. No other course was possible. The significant and gratifying feature of our intervention was the unanimity with which general opinion supported the Government, and very few protested against the obligations that honour required the nation to undertake.
The war formed by far the most exacting test to which the democracy of Britain had yet been subjected. The last great European War had been waged by Britain under an aristocracy, which, despite many mistakes, had ultimately achieved victory by steadfast and unquenchable courage. There were many, especially those of the type who, like Thucydides, doubted the ability of a democracy to govern an Empire, who feared that the resolute spirit of Pitt and Castlereagh had vanished, and that the country would take refuge in ignoble neutrality. But all fears and doubts were dissolved by the manner in which the nation as a whole took up the gage that the Kaiser had thrown, and the course of the struggle showed that the Empire possessed in full measure the more robust qualities it had shown under royal and aristocratic rule, though before victory was achieved it had surrendered all power to a small oligarchy, and allowed itself to be subjected to a degree of compulsion and restraint that had not been contemplated when hostilities began.
It was fortunate that the name and services of Lord Kitchener were at the disposal of his country, for no other man enjoyed to such an unusual degree the trust and esteem of his compatriots. He was universally recognised as the man pre-eminently fitted to lead the nation in its hour of peril, and his perspicacity and sanity of judgment inspired general confidence. It is difficult to over-estimate the sobering and steadying influence that his personality exercised throughout the land. Perhaps more quickly than any other man he grasped the gravity of the situation, and his first speech as Secretary of State for War warned the people of Britain that the conflict would not be the short, sharp affair many expected it to be.
All available resources for war were immediately employed. The small but extremely efficient Regular Army, at once transported to France, played no inconsiderable part in checking the first onrush of the German armies, while the Navy swept the seas and bottled up the hostile fleet in its harbours. But our Regular land forces, amounting to little more than 150,000 men, were a scanty and inadequate contribution to the titanic contest that was raging in Europe, and Lord Kitchener asked the civilian population to furnish fresh armies. His appeal was answered with magnificent alacrity; recruiting offices, which were opened in every large town in the United Kingdom, were besieged by volunteers and the staff had to work day and night to cope with the rush.
The pick of the nation offered itself for service. Youth, which had hitherto satisfied in sport and athletics its craving for adventure, was attracted rather than repelled by the novelty and danger of war, and young men in thousands left workshops, offices, and universities to join the Colours. Others, not so numerous, were drawn from the class of casual labourers, and they cheerfully submitted themselves to a routine more irksome though more wholesome than any to which they had been accustomed. There was a minority of more mature men who, having envisaged the situation, bravely sacrificed their prospects on the altar of duty. The standard of physique was exceptionally high, and many who afterwards passed the tests with ease were rejected in the early months of the war. After selection the “First Hundred Thousand,” the salt of their race, were sent to the various battalion depots, and then on to the training camps near Salisbury Plain.
One of the first divisions formed from the New Armies was the Ninth (Scottish) Division, and its composition was as follows:—