The First World War marked an unparalleled catastrophe that profoundly influenced the modern era. Erik Sass recounts the events of the war precisely a century after they unfolded. This is the 131st entry in the series.
July 19-22, 1914: To the Cliff's Edge
Following the phase of 'miscommunication' from July 16 to 18, there remained a slim chance to prevent a European catastrophe, but only if diplomats acted swiftly and in unison. Their primary task was to halt Austria-Hungary from presenting its ultimatum to Serbia or to persuade them to moderate the terms sufficiently for Serbia to accept. Once the ultimatum was made public, retreat became nearly impossible: the principles of honor prevented Austria-Hungary from retreating from a clash with a significantly weaker nation.
Vienna Prepares Ultimatum, Berlin Gives Consent
The window for diplomatic resolution was rapidly narrowing. On July 19, Austria-Hungary’s highest officials convened in secrecy at Foreign Minister Berchtold’s residence in Vienna to solidify their war strategy and draft the ultimatum to be delivered to Serbia on July 23.
The ultimatum began with a preamble blaming the Serbian government for involvement in the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. It listed eleven demands, many of which Serbia could potentially agree to, such as formally renouncing actions aimed at destabilizing Austria-Hungary, dismissing army officers linked to subversive activities, and curbing anti-Austrian propaganda in Serbian media.
However, two demands were impossible for Serbia to accept: allowing Austro-Hungarian officials to join the Serbian investigation into the assassination and collaborate in dismantling subversive groups within Serbia. These terms jeopardized Serbia’s independence and, if met, would essentially turn it into a subordinate state. Serbian leaders, bound by national pride, were compelled to reject these terms—or risk a revolt—giving Austria-Hungary the justification it sought to declare war.
Two days later, Berchtold visited Emperor Franz Josef at his preferred retreat, Bad Ischl, to present the draft ultimatum for the emperor’s approval and explain the strategy to deliver it on July 23, allowing Serbia two days to respond. Once Franz Josef endorsed the ultimatum, the document was sent to Berlin, where German Foreign Secretary Gottlieb von Jagow reviewed and approved its wording on the evening of July 22. With all preparations complete, the plan was poised to proceed.
Intent to Deceive
Deception was central to the strategy, starting with the outright denial of the plan’s existence. To grant Austria-Hungary unrestricted freedom, Berlin would feign ignorance of Vienna’s decision to strike Serbia. When other European powers urged Germany to rein in its ally, the Germans could pretend to comply while asserting that Austria-Hungary was disregarding their pleas. By making France, Britain, and Russia believe Germany was aligned with them—rather than covertly encouraging Austria-Hungary—the hope was to sow enough doubt and delay to allow Austria-Hungary to swiftly defeat Serbia without external interference.
This approach, however, was remarkably naive, as no one doubted that Austria-Hungary would consult its powerful ally before launching a war against Serbia. The other Great Powers quickly discerned the truth. On July 21, Jules Cambon, the French ambassador to Berlin, alerted Paris, stating, 'When Austria takes action in Belgrade, which it deems necessary following the Sarajevo incident, Germany will back it with full authority and has no intention of mediating.'
On July 22, German Foreign Secretary Jagow instructed Prince Lichnowsky, Germany’s ambassador to London, to inform the British that 'we were unaware of Austria’s demands and consider them an internal matter for Austria-Hungary, in which we have no right to interfere.' However, the seasoned British diplomat Eyre Crowe saw through the ruse:
It is challenging to comprehend the German Government’s stance. Superficially, it lacks transparency. If they genuinely wish to see Austria restrained, they are ideally positioned to influence Vienna… They are fully aware of Austria’s impending demands, recognize the gravity of the situation, and have likely endorsed these demands while pledging support in case of serious complications…
Had the British realized this sooner, they might have prevented catastrophe by warning Berlin that Britain expected Germany to control Austria-Hungary and would not remain neutral if Germany engaged in war with Russia and France. But by then, it was already too late.
Poincaré in St. Petersburg
Germany and Austria-Hungary also relied on discord and miscommunication within the Triple Entente. The Germans saw the crisis as an opportunity to fracture the opposing alliance by persuading France and Britain to abandon Russia. Their strategy was to portray Russia as the aggressor escalating the crisis, providing the Western Entente members with a reason to withdraw. However, the Germans overestimated their ability to shape the narrative and underestimated France’s loyalty to Russia. During his visit to St. Petersburg from July 20-23, French President Raymond Poincaré, accompanied by Premier René Viviani, likely urged Tsar Nicholas II and Foreign Minister Sergei Sazonov to adopt a strong stance against Germany and Austria-Hungary.
Despite Vienna’s attempts to create confusion by delaying the ultimatum until the evening of July 23—when Poincaré and Viviani would be at sea—the Austrian plans were leaked by the German ambassador to Rome. By the time the French leaders reached St. Petersburg on July 20, they and their Russian counterparts were likely aware of the situation. However, they later worked hard to conceal this knowledge, as it could undermine their portrayal of France as an innocent victim of German aggression, a narrative crucial to winning British public support.
In his book The Russian Origins of the First World War, Sean McMeekin highlights several suspicious details about the French visit. Notably, there are no official records or minutes from the discussions—an unusual omission for such a high-level meeting. Equally puzzling was the behavior of French ambassador Maurice Paléologue, who wrote no dispatches or diary entries during the visit. Given Poincaré’s earlier remarks, it is probable that he encouraged the Russians to adopt a firm position.
Regardless of the specifics discussed, the Russians and French were undoubtedly aware of what was coming. On July 21, German ambassador Friedrich Pourtalès sent a telegram to Berlin, warning Chancellor Bethmann-Hollweg that Sazonov...
...informed me that he had received highly alarming reports from London, Paris, and Rome, where Austria-Hungary’s actions were causing increasing concern… If Austria-Hungary was intent on disrupting peace, it would have to face the consequences from Europe… Russia could not stand by if Austria-Hungary used threatening language toward Serbia or initiated military action.
On the same day, Poincaré cautioned the Austro-Hungarian ambassador to St. Petersburg, Frigyes Szapáry, 'With a bit of goodwill, this Serbian issue can be easily resolved. However, it could just as quickly escalate. Serbia has strong support among the Russian people, and Russia has France as an ally. There are many potential complications to worry about!' After this brief conversation, Poincaré told Viviani and Paléologue, 'Austria is planning a dramatic move. Sazonov must stand firm, and we must support him.' The next day, Sazonov informed the Russian ambassador to Vienna, Nikolai Shebeko, that 'France, deeply concerned about the direction of Austro-Serbian relations, will not tolerate Serbia being humiliated without justification.'
By July 22, the anticipation of impending conflict was widespread, at least among the elite. At the banquet marking the end of the French state visit, Grand Duchess Anastasia (wife of Grand Duke Nikolai, who would soon lead the Russian army) told Paléologue, 'War is coming. Austria will be wiped out. You will regain Alsace and Lorraine. Our armies will meet in Berlin. Germany will be destroyed.'
Calling the 'Bluff'
Unfortunately, Germany and Austria-Hungary continued to dismiss the warnings from Russia and France as mere bluffs. On July 20, a message from the charge d’affaires for the German state of Baden captured the prevailing attitude in Berlin, where 'the belief is that Russia is bluffing and, due to domestic concerns, will think twice before provoking a European war with uncertain outcomes.'
Meanwhile, Germany and Austria-Hungary still couldn’t agree on whether to involve their supposed ally Italy, which would require Austria to give up its Italian-populated territories in Trentino and Trieste. As time ran out, Berlin grew increasingly anxious, while Vienna became more stubborn on the issue of Italy.
On July 20, Italian Foreign Minister San Giuliano telegraphed Italy’s ambassador to Berlin, Bollati (who was about to leave for a spa treatment), stating, 'It is in our interest that Serbia not be crushed and that Austria-Hungary not expand territorially.' The next day, San Giuliano reiterated this warning directly to the Austro-Hungarian ambassador to Rome, Kajetan von Mérey. However, during a meeting with the German ambassador to Vienna, Tschirschky, Austrian Foreign Minister Berchtold claimed that Austria-Hungary had no intention of annexing Serbian territory—and thus no obligation to compensate Italy. The Italians, of course, saw through this, and the Germans were well aware of it.
'The Oppression On My Heart'
As Europe edged closer to catastrophe, ordinary citizens were preoccupied with dramatic events. In France, July 20 marked the start of the Madame Caillaux murder trial, which captivated French newspapers even as peace crumbled. On the same day, Britain’s King George V invited opposing Irish factions to a meeting in a vain attempt to resolve the issues surrounding Irish independence. The failure of the Buckingham Palace Conference on July 24 heightened fears of civil war in Ireland. Meanwhile, St. Petersburg was brought to a standstill by a massive strike, and Italy was still reeling from the 'Red Week' protests in June.
Yet some individuals already felt the approaching storm. When Poincaré and Viviani arrived in St. Petersburg on July 20, they were met by protestors chanting, 'We don’t want war!' and 'Down with Poincaré the warmonger!' That same day, Marie van Vorst, an American living in Paris, wrote to a friend:
I feel an unusual sense of unease… I can’t quite explain it, but there’s a looming threat that seems to hang over everything. What could it mean? Never in my life have I experienced such a peculiar, strained, and tense sensation. At times, I lie awake at night, compelled to rise and open my shutters… and an overwhelming feeling of danger seems to envelop everything in sight… There have been moments when the weight on my heart has made it hard to breathe.
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