Driving off with my daughter and just a couple of portmanteaux to the London Chatham and Dover Railway, on July 16, 1914, en route for Thoune, our usual headquarters when contemplating a few weeks' wandering in Switzerland, I little thought of the events the Fates were weaving, and which, I suppose, have not left unaffected any individual destiny either in Europe or in the whole world. It was a bright and sunny morning, with a light cool breeze, upon which we congratulated ourselves in view of the crossing of that narrow but often uncomfortable strip of sea isolating us from the great continent at hand. Nothing, so far, to warn us of any impending upheaval. The sea was blissfully asleep, enveloped in a golden haze; and Paris as gay, nonchalant, and unsuspecting of any approaching danger, as a child at play.

The papers which reached me, however, on arrival at Thoune, interfered somewhat with the first enjoyment of mountain and lake. I remember watching, one afternoon on the lake, the gathering of a storm over the Interlaken valley, the mists sweeping up the lower slopes of the mountains to unite with the gloomy, threatening clouds above, the whole rent by sudden forked flashes and resonating peals. Was it a counterpart of what was happening in the politically surcharged atmosphere of Europe?

I knew the German Government had long since planned war to hasten and to crown their country's hitherto peaceful economic penetration abroad. Her military writers had treated us to an exposition of the ways and means by which world dominion could be secured; and her diplomats and intellectuals had been at much pains to secretly enlighten their own people as to the meaning of the "Welt-politik" they were so fond of proclaiming. In England, individual lucubrations such as these would, in the natural order of things, be set aside as of no special import; but in Germany, where every class was drilled and schooled to the idea of "Deutschland Über alles," did they not foreshadow a national, even racial impulse, gathering force as it developed?

Personally, I had all the less reason for anticipating any sudden upheaval, as I had just assisted in London (February-March, 1914) at a Conference between representatives of British navigation interests and German delegates of the Bagdad Railway Company and the Deutsche Bank, with the object of establishing the relative positions of our respective interests, in so far as the navigation of the Mesopotamian rivers was concerned. Daily, even twice daily, sittings were solemnly carried on, with but one interruption of a week to allow the German delegates to refer to Berlin for further instructions. About the end of February a final understanding was actually reached, and embodied in an Agreement duly initialed previous to ratification. These meetings received a good deal of publicity at the time, and I only refer to them in view of certain features which appear of psycho-historical value, as further revealing German character and mentality.

The members taking part in the proceedings (presided over by a member of the Foreign Office) represented the several interests involved, and in addition Herr v. KÜhlmann, then Counsellor of the German Embassy in London, attended as representative of German diplomacy. It was the first time I had met Herr v. KÜhlmann, and I had no experience, therefore, of his outlook or mentality. His attitude was curiously interesting and ambiguous. He intervened but seldom in the debates, though, when he did, it was to throw oil on troubled waters and expedite the business on hand, whilst his remarks showed a certain grasp of the questions at issue, which were mostly of a very detailed nature. The general impression he made upon me, however, was one of supreme boredom on his part. His attitude may be described as one of supercilious tolerance and indifference, which puzzled me at the time, but which, in the light of subsequent events, becomes perfectly clear and natural. As an official in the confidence of the German Foreign Office, he was doubtless aware of the intentions of his Government with regard to coming events.

It is now known as an established fact that, at the Imperial Conference summoned at Potsdam, on July 5, 1914, at which representatives of German Diplomacy, the Army and Navy, the great Banks, and well-known captains of industry took part, a final decision was taken in favour of war. Mr. Morgenthau, the American Ambassador at Constantinople, gives an account of this Conference as related to him by Baron Wangenheim, his German colleague; and on the subject of the question of responsibility for the war, writes as follows: "My conclusions as to the 'responsibility' are not based on suspicion or belief or the study of circumstantial data. I do not have to reason or argue about the matter. I know. The conspiracy that caused this greatest of human tragedies was hatched by the Kaiser and his Imperial crew at this Potsdam Conference, on July 5, 1914." Every leader and captain of industry evidently had his orders to be in readiness for war, as the result of the decision of the 5th of July. That Herr v. KÜhlmann, like others, had confidential information of what was maturing, admits, I believe, of little doubt; and the negotiations at the Foreign Office for the regulation of so small an affair as the navigation of the Mesopotamian rivers, when compared with the issues of peace and war, must indeed have appeared to him as farcical and particularly boring, given his knowledge of their probable aim and purpose. Just as the departure of the Kaiser on his yacht for Norway after the Potsdam Conference was calculated to give the Chancellories of Europe a feeling of confidence, so the meetings in London must have been calculated to lull our Foreign Office into a sense of security.

The general tension during the last few days of July brought to my mind a conversation I had had with Colonel Trench, our former Military AttachÉ in Berlin, in the summer of 1912, the memory of which did not serve to minimize my growing uneasiness. I had, at the time, just read works by Bernhardi and Naumann, in which the question of Germany's future is argued in the frankest possible manner; in so frank a manner, indeed, and with so little attempt at concealment, that both authors had been classed by outside critics as hot-heads and fire-brands, in the belief that they, like others of similar tendencies, were unsupported by the more level-headed and responsible leaders of German policy. Some colour was lent to this view by articles appearing simultaneously in the German Press, specially written, as the sequel revealed, for foreign consumption, setting forth that this militant school was led by extremists who should not be taken seriously. Now, Colonel Trench had had unusual opportunities of weighing in the balance the value of the influence exercised by these so-called "extremists." His linguistic accomplishments and attractive personality had made him a persona grata at the German Court, and had given him ample facilities for approaching men of every cast of thought. He had, moreover, seen service in South Africa with the German Expeditionary Force during the Herero campaign, and had thus obtained a near view of the German military machine and German methods of thought.

I, therefore, seized the opportunity of sounding him on the subject of Bernhardi and similar authors, and asked whether they represented in his opinion an extremist, or general, view of thought in Germany. He replied that the views they held were now the common property of all the thinking portion of the community, and even of the great majority of their countrymen, whether articulate or inarticulate. Their very bluntness had led to their being discounted abroad, but none the less Germany practically throughout had been inoculated with the microbe of world-dominion madness and stood solid behind the Military Party. He then added what, at the time, seemed a very bold statement. He said: "You will see that we shall be at war with Germany not later than September, 1914. The Germans have fixed on that date as the most favourable for their purposes. By then their final preparations will be completed, and they cannot or will not wait, for were they to do so they would be giving time to Russia to complete the strategic railways she has in contemplation, and they are determined to forestall her railway programme."

I met Colonel Trench again in the summer of 1913, and referring to our conversation of 1912, adduced arguments then popular in England showing what enormous risks, dynastic as well as economic, the Kaiser would be taking by casting German prosperity into the melting-pot of war; whereas, if left to proceed steadily on her present path, she might achieve world dominion in an economic sense. He brushed aside these arguments on the ground that the German ideal was not based on economic dominion alone, and that such dominion would not satisfy the War Party, who counted on a military success redounding to their credit and that of the Army. He added that every nerve was being strained in anticipation of the "Great Day," and repeated the statement he made in 1912, "that we should be at war with Germany in September, 1914." Was this prophecy to prove correct? It certainly looked like it to any one endeavouring to read between the lines of the news pouring in.

I decided to wire to my wife, who was with Russian relatives, taking the cure at ContrÉxeville, to hurry on to Switzerland direct. She had just written to say that they proposed making a dÉtour to Switzerland via Colmar and the Black Forest, by automobile. Indeed, as it appeared later, they were about to engage a car, and had actually made all necessary arrangements to that end. Fortunately, my wire arrived just in time, else I fear to face the thought of what might have been the consequences had they been caught in Germany when war was declared about a week later. As it was, my wife and her party arrived safely at Thoune, escaping the French mobilization by a day or two.

On England's declaration of war, I decided to return home at once, and went to Berne to secure passports and, if needful, letters of recommendation. To my great pleasure, I found Sir (then Mr.) Evelyn Grant Duff in charge of the British Legation as H.M.'s Minister to the Swiss Confederation. We had been colleagues many years before (1893-1895), he as Secretary, I as Military AttachÉ, at the British Legation in Teheran, Persia, where we had worked, and spent several most enjoyable years together. Mr. Grant Duff informed me of his urgent need of a Military AttachÉ, Colonel Granet, appointed in that capacity to both Italy and Switzerland, being detained in Rome, and so not available at the time at Berne. Mr. Grant Duff proposed wiring, therefore, to ask for my appointment, even if only provisionally. With the glad feeling that I might once more be of service to my country, I accepted his kind offer with the greatest alacrity. The answer to Mr. Grant Duff's telegram arriving a few days later in an affirmative sense, I proceeded to Berne, on August 11, 1914, accompanied by my wife and daughter, to take up my new duties.

When establishing ourselves at the Bernerhof HÔtel, I had little idea it would prove our residence for four consecutive years!