THE HOURS BEFORE . . .
Nobody knew the hell that awaited them in last few days before outbreak of war,
Toronto’s small Serbian community is tense with excitement. Members gather at a restaurant on a section of King St. where the road veers north toward Queen, “one of the few places in Toronto where the streets slant and twist and turn, and where tiny, dim lanes straggle in almost European complexity,” as the Toronto Daily Star describes it.
It is July 28, 1914. Inside, “half a hundred men, packed in a dim smoky room, are leaning intently on small tables,” listening to a “fierceeyed man” slowly translating the news of the “war crisis.”
“The whole colony is anxious, Serbians because they will have to go home, and Bulgarians and Macedonians, because their homes are in the neighbourhood of war, and there, in the lately ravaged fields and villages are wives and mothers,” the Star reports as the world inches closer to cataclysm at the end of July.
Exactly a month before, Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, were visiting Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia, a province that had been annexed by the growing Austro-Hungarian Empire in 1908. Six would-be assassins “who dreamed of the moment when Bosnia would be free of the Austrian yoke, and an integral part of Serbia,” waited along the route, Martin Gilbert writes in First World War. Ferdinand, who was actually sensitive to Slavic aspirations and hopeful they could have an equal voice in the empire, was shot alongside his wife in their car. As he bled, he begged her not to die, to stay alive for their children. Neither would.
Austro-Hungarian chief of staff Franz Conrad von Hotzendorf had wanted a war, and the assassination provided an opportunity to keep Serbia in check and assert dominance in the Balkan region. But with Europe’s system of alliances, this was bound to escalate from a regional conflict.
“Europe was a heap of swords piled as delicately as jackstraws; one could not be pulled out without moving the others,” Barbara Tuchman writes in The Guns of August. A series of treaties meant that Russia would likely defend Serbia, Germany would support Austria-Hungary in the event of a Russian attack, and France and Russia would stand together. Britain had a diplomatic understanding with France.
In Canada, the main news that summer was the Komagata Maru — a ship carrying 376 citizens of British India that had been held up in Vancouver harbour since May because of racist exclusion laws.
“All day occupied with Hindoo question,” Canadian prime minister Robert Borden wrote in his diary on July 21.
As a heavy rain fell, he boarded a train toward Muskoka for a summer vacation on July 23, the same day the Komagata Maru was escorted out of Vancouver by a naval ship.
He enjoyed golfing, bridge and “motoring” with the Eaton family, but by July 28, with news that Austria had declared war on Serbia, a general “European war” was looking “exceedingly probable,” he noted.
“Great Britain endeavouring unsuccessfully to keep the peace. Almost impossible for us to keep out if France is involved. Germany and Russia both quietly mobilizing.”
“Generally, the sense in many places that there had been so many small conflicts quickly resolved meant everyone was expecting the diplomats would find a solution,” says Wayne Reeves, chief curator of City of Toronto Museum Services. “In other words, how was this any different from what had happened before?”
“One constant among the elements of 1914 — as of any era — was the disposition of everyone on all sides not to prepare for the harder alternative, not to act upon what they suspected to be true,” Tuchman writes.
At the time, the Toronto Daily Star wondered whether Canada would be called on. A group of 200 Serbians living in Toronto sent a letter to the consul general in the U.S. “stating their readiness to leave at once, with the first contingent, for the firing line.” The local regiments of the militia were prepared to “take field promptly if Britain is involved.”
Canada’s blustering minister of militia, Sam Hughes, was “extremely reticent” to talk on July 30.
“Have you any reason to believe that England will participate?” he asked a reporter. “What is the latest news this morning about the situation?” The latest news is muddled at best. “Britain divided on the war question” the Toronto Daily Star notes on July 29, pointing out there were those who thought Britain should stand beside France and Russia and those who argued for neutrality since no British interests were involved.
In the lead-up to war, King George Vmade a “very bad mistake” indicating to his cousin Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany that Britain might be able to remain neutral, Canadian military historian Terry Copp says.
Kaiser Wilhelm would have certainly appreciated the reassurance, as he was feeling a tad encircled with the alliance of France and Russia. He also felt a bit left out. Wilhelm was the grandson of Queen Victoria, yet no visiting English nobility visited Berlin, even though they always made time for Paris, Tuchman writes in The Guns of August: “Envy of the older nations gnawed at him,” she writes, noting that Wilhelm told the king of Italy that the other monarchs in Europe paid no attention to him. “Soon, with my great Navy to endorse my words, they will be more respectful,” he said. “Impulsive, impervious, dramatic — a militarist from his cradle, a statesman trained in the ‘indirect, crooked ways’ of Bismarck, governed by one passion, the passion to make his land great and powerful,” a Toronto Daily Star profile of Kaiser Wilhelm read that July, as faraway world leaders suddenly became important. “The truth is he wants peace because it is in his own and the nation’s chief interest . . . He keeps his powder dry and his armour bright. But he stands for peace — peace armed to the teeth.” The kaiser didn’t decide foreign policy by himself — Chancellor Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg and the German Army were equally involved. On July 6, the German chancellor sent a telegram — later called the “blank cheque” — to Austria on behalf of Wilhelm, solidifying the alliance between the two countries: “The Emperor Francis Joseph may, however, rest assured that His Majesty will faithfully stand by AustriaHungary, as is required by the obligations of his alliance and of his ancient friendship,” it read in part. On July 13, a report arrived in Austria that showed there was no evidence to implicate the Serbian government in the killing of Ferdinand, Gilbert writes. “The Austrian desire to punish Serbia was still strong, however sustained by the feeling that Germany would support punitive action,” he notes. Austria sent an ultimatum to Serbia on July 23, making demands widely viewed as an embarrassment. Serbia agreed to dissolve societies that might be capable of “conducting intrigues against Austria,” condemned subversive propaganda and agreed with other conditions, except one. “To sum up, Serbia accepts all the conditions and all the demands of Austria, and makes reservations only regarding the participation of Austrian officials in the inquiry (into the Sarajevo plot). It does not give formal refusal to this point, but confines it- self to making explanations,” the Star reported on July 27, 1914. Austria-Hungary formally declared war on Serbia on July 28. Britain warned Germany it couldn’t remain neutral, and urged mediation. “The kaiser begins to chicken out from a decision he has been part of,” Copp says. “A German call to pull back the Austrians from war fell on deaf ears in Vienna, which was intent on avenging the newly beloved archduke,” Tim Cook writes in At the Sharp End. On July 28 at her hotel in France, Torontonian Helen Durie pens a letter to her brother: “We are sure this is merely another scare and that there will be no war . . . Of course these is tremendous excitement here . . . Special bulletin posted in town says France, Russia and England are standing behind Serbia just as Germany stands behind Austria . . . The handsome Austrian here is very much put out, but is ready to go at any moment, as are the two other Germans that are with him.” On July 29, Tsar Nicholas of Russia and Kaiser Wilhelm of Germany begin to exchange a series of telegrams, signing some of the dispatches “Your very sincere and devoted friend Willy” and “Your loving Nicky,” leading to their classification by historians as the Willy/Nicky telegrams. “I foresee that very soon I shall be overwhelmed by the pressure forced upon me and be forced to take extreme measures which will lead to war,” the tsar wrote to the kaiser at 1 a.m. on July 29, asking him to intervene with Austria-Hungary. “To try and avoid such a calamity as a European war I beg you in the name of our old friendship to do what you can to stop your allies from going too far.” “. . . With regard to the hearty and tender friendship which binds us both from long ago with firm ties, I am exerting my utmost influence to induce the Austrians to deal straightly to arrive to a satisfactory understanding with you,” the Kaiser telegrammed at 1:45 a.m. “I confidently hope that you will help me in my efforts to smooth over difficulties that may still arise.” As the telegrams continue, Russia’s partial mobilization begins, and “Nicky” explains to “Willy” that he had no choice because of Austria’s mobilization. The war can still be stopped by either Germany or Russia, Copp says, if Russia is willing to concede the Austrian occupation of Serbia and abandon her ally. “When the Willy-Nicky telegrams are going forward, what the kaiser is really concerned with is making sure if at all possible the world perceives Germany as the innocent victim of Russian mobilization, and everybody is paying attention to the way the world will view the events.” “The responsibility for the disaster which is now threatening the whole civilized world will not be laid at my door,” the kaiser wrote to the tsar on July 31. “In this moment it still lies in your power to avert it.” “A Black Friday” the Toronto Daily Star headline blares on July 31. “Hope of Peace is abandoned in Gt. Britain”
On Aug.1, a series of bells ring at 4:19 p.m. in Dinard, France.
“C’est le tocsin!” a friend of Helen Durie’s cries out, referencing the warning bells.
“Its effect on the people was extraordinary . . .” Durie writes to her brother in Toronto. “It has not rung in France since the Franco-Prussian War. Pandemonium followed! Men, women and children rushed into the streets, and through them, to read the proclamations that were being posted up . . . Men marched through the streets shouting “The Marseillaise,” and the excitement was really indescribable. The utter dismay of the women was pitiful . . . poor peasant women are everywhere, crying and bewailing the war. The one ray of hope is that as of yet, war is not declared.”
After the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-1871 ended in France’s defeat, France ceded the Alsace-Lorraine region to Germany.
Military historian Terry Copp says historians who have pored over the primary sources argue France had “really given up” on Alsace-Lorraine, but after war was declared, they made restoration of the region a goal.
It is one of the “great errors,” he says, because it hampers the chance of negotiated peace. It reflects that perhaps France thinks it can win quickly, Copp says.
Germany has the same idea — and a plan.
German General Count Alfred von Schlieffen planned for an eventual two-front war in1905. In the event of a conflict with Russia and France, he believed it would be easier to win a quick victory in France, since in Russia, the sheer land mass could allow “Germany to be sucked into an endless campaign as Napoleon had been,” Tuchman writes.
The plan called for Germany to allocate most of its army to the western front for a quick victory while saving a small portion for the eastern front, to be buttressed by the triumphant soldiers who had taken France. The Germans would send some of their soldiers to the Alsace- Lorraine, but the majority would advance through Belgium, encircling France from the north.
A stumbling block, of course, was Belgium, a country whose neutrality was guaranteed by the Treaty of London.
On Aug. 2, Germany delivers an ultimatum, demanding free passage through the country. The Belgians deny the Germans on Aug. 3, Germany declares war on France and, on Aug. 4, Germany crosses into Belgium.
“Act draws England into the fight, as she had guaranteed that the integrity of Belgium would be protected,” the Star reports as Britain formally enters the war along with her colonies, including Canada.
In his diary that day, Borden writes, “Further telegram suggesting that our offer of Expeditionary Force may be accepted . . . Great excitement in all Canadian cities. Crowds on streets cheered me.”
Nobody knows the hell that awaits them.