5
The restoration of better Anglo-German relations following the bitterness between April and June was clearly motivated by political expediency and in no way indicated a real change of heart upon either side. British statesmen were well aware that if events deteriorated in South Africa, ‘the Emperor & others will certainly give us a stab somewhere...’1 Moreover, a future meeting between Salisbury and Wilhelm hardly promised any great improvement, since the prime minister had warned Hatzfeldt that, although he would regard this as an honour, he could not agree with the ambassador’s view ‘as to the political advantage it would bring with it’. For Salisbury, the differences between the two countries were political and not personal, and stemmed from the fact that they were rival colonial powers, which made their relations ‘more liable to disturbance than would be the case in regard to countries which had no colonial competition between them’.2
The prime minister’s deep suspicion of all things German was in fact becoming disproportionate. When Eliot and Sternburg sent identical telegrams from Samoa over one particular problem, Salisbury’s chief worry was that the Germans would thus be able to break the diplomatic code. Moreover, he insisted that British warships should not leave Samoan waters until all German vessels were gone.3 More pointed still were the British attempts to ensure that the secret agreement over the Portuguese colonies was not activated. Lisbon was encouraged in her attempts to remain solvent and assured that Britain would not allow any undue pressure to be brought against her; and when it was learnt that a powerful German squadron was to visit the Portuguese capital, a still larger force of British battleships purposely arrived there a day earlier and took all the berths.4 This was hardly the way in which Berlin had interpreted the 1898 arrangement, for Bülow had sent Tattenbach 10,000 marks with instructions to use it secretly to pay for Portuguese newspaper articles which would favour a colonial transaction (i.e., withdrawal) to improve the country’ s financial state.5
Furthermore, Salisbury’s attitude to the entire Samoan affair remained unchanged. He accepted in full Eliot’s conclusion that the return of Mata’afa and the agitation of the Germans had been the main causes for the troubles—without perhaps considering that the instructions given to the British commissioner had already pointed along those lines. Nor did the prime minister criticize Maxse for his too ardent efforts to crush the ‘rebels’: rather, he recommended that the consul receive a C.M.G. for services rendered, a gesture which provoked annoyed comments in Germany and caused the kaiser to decorate Rose as a reply.6 In addition, Salisbury steadfastly ignored all German suggestions that an agreement be reached upon the future of Morocco and when Hatzfeldt hinted that this was necessary to restore relations damaged by the Samoan affair he was told rather bitterly: ‘You want to please your Kaiser and I am to help you.’ The British fleet was sent to Morocco as a strong hint to Berlin that no interference would be tolerated.7 Finally, the Germans soon learnt that the prime minister had different ideas to theirs as to the meaning of the damages agreement and it was not until 24 August that this matter was completely settled.8
On the German side, distrust of Salisbury was still rife and the worst possible motives were attributed to his every move. In the damages question, Hatzfeldt was instructed to ensure that Salisbury did not ‘entrench himself behind a possible American opposition, in order to cut loose from the arbitration proposal once again’.9 Nevertheless, Bülow was clearly anxious to prevent a further deterioration in Anglo-German relations, for reasons already outlined. Throughout July and early August, the kaiser was absolutely furious with the Russians and Eulenburg nervously advised the foreign minister against suggesting anything anti-Russian lest Wilhelm go too far with the idea. From the other side, Holstein warned Bülow not to adopt a too anti-British policy since the kaiser would not follow it for very long.10 Of course, Bülow himself also realized the dangers to his ‘Free Hand’, and particularly to his naval policy, which bad relations with Britain could cause. As he put it confidentially to Richthofen:
At the same time, however, this was not going to be a hasty retreat into the arms of the British. Both Bülow and Eulenburg insisted that a satisfactory Samoan settlement was ‘the first and most essential precondition for a normal relationship with England’. Moreover, and this decision was to be the cause of much later worry and calculation, it had to be arranged before the kaiser visited England: if it was not, then he would not go. While the two statesmen were probably the originators of this condition, Wilhelm himself found their proposal to be ‘self-evident’. The idea of going to Windsor greatly attracted the kaiser, Eulenburg reported, yet his bitter criticisms of England continued.12 Whether all three fully realized the risk such an inflexible decision involved when it was formulated at the end of August, is hard to say. To put such pressure upon Salisbury, whose habit of carefully and minutely examining every proposal was well known, was a policy which hardly appeared to have much chance of success. It was, indeed, to provoke his resentment still further and, according to Eckardstein, to occasion the prime minister’s famous retort that he was not going to be dictated to from Berlin with a stop-watch in the hand.13 Yet for the Germans to cancel the visit to Windsor at short notice would enrage the queen and annoy the British public, and all this at a time when Germany’s relations with Russia were very poor indeed.
Incidentally, while Bülow welcomed the idea that the kaiser would be able to visit England, he foresaw dangers to his policy if Wilhelm was either too irritated or too forward during his stay. He therefore suggested to Richthofen that any such ‘personal misunderstandings’ would be avoided if Lascelles was privately asked to secure an invitation for the foreign minister also.14 This was duly arranged.
Bülow and the kaiser did not press London at once regarding Samoa, and Hatzfeldt’s instructions during August chiefly concerned a final solution of the arbitration agreement. Possibly they were awaiting the report of the commissioners upon the future of Samoa and did not wish to move until this had been received and digested. Whatever the cause, it seemed to prove to be a fortunate waiting-period, since the overall situation appeared far brighter to Berlin by the end of that month and Bülow’s confidence in his ‘Free Hand’ policy returned. Both the German and Russian governments preferred to forget about an arrangement over the Straits for the moment, although Muraviev and the Czar retained their deep suspicions of the kaiser’s policy in Turkey. Bülow, however, found it easy or convenient to forget such disputes, and to persuade himself that his relations with Russia were fully restored.
Not even the news that the French foreign minister, Declassé, was travelling to St Petersburg for important discussions could prick his bubble of confidence. Both he and Holstein thought that this trip boded ill for Britain, and Hatzfeldt was instructed to impress this fact upon Rothschild and other contacts.15 In fact, although these Franco-Russian talks did lead to the decision that the two nations must co-operate more fully against Britain than had been the case at Fashoda, Delcassé’s great concern at the time was that Germany would seize Austria-Hungary (and therefore a port on the Mediterranean) should the Dual Monarchy suddenly collapse after the death of Francis Joseph. To prevent such an Anschluss, the French and Russian governments re-wrote the terms of the Dual Alliance so-as to include within its aims the preservation of the European balance of power. While Delcassé and Muraviev had a natural anxiety about their many quarrels with Britain, they had an equal or even greater fear of German ambition in central Europe and Asia Minor.16
To Berlin, the political map of the world read rather differently. At the beginning of July, Bülow repeated his view that Germany’s neutrality during a future Anglo-Russian war would automatically restrain France from joining such a conflict, and that every sensible English politician should realize this and treat Germany more considerately.17 Moreover, German-American relations seemed to be improving rapidly and, in the middle of the following month, the special envoy in Washington, Mumm von Schwarzenstein, reported jubilantly that
Finally, the growing possibility of a war in South Africa seemed to give a further trump into the hands of the Germans. Only after the breakdown of the Bloemfontein Conference in early June was this matter given serious consideration by Berlin and a neutral position decided upon. While this was clearly in line with the spirit of the Portuguese colonies arrangement, Holstein pointed out further reasons why they should remain impartial and refuse to mediate for either side.
Believing that Kruger would back down, the Auswärtiges Amt did not expect a war, and thus Bülow was content to let Richthofen and Hatzfeldt attempt to arrange a partition of Samoa with Salisbury.
By the end of August, the German viewpoint had altered. The tenor of the commissioners’ joint report was known by then, and this strengthened their belief that further tripartite rule was unsound. In particular, several of the clauses in the new administrative scheme were rejected out of hand, despite Sternburg’s pleadings. The members of the Colonial Division of the Auswärtiges Amt opposed the abolition of consular jurisdiction because it would weaken Deutschtum in Samoa, while the D.H.P.G. pleaded against this proposal lest it give the Supreme Court the power to hear the complaints of the plantation labourers. The Germans also disliked the idea of abolishing the presidency, and opposed the alteration of the Apia municipal boundaries. Having no desire to see the commissioners’ scheme implemented, therefore, Berlin wished for a final partition settlement.20
More decisive still were the despatches received from Hatzfeldt. On 17 August, he pointed out that only a Franco-Russian intervention on behalf of the Transvaal would cause the British to make great offers for Germany’s friendship. On the twenty-sixth, he reported that in his opinion even Chamberlain would ‘deal like a Jew’ and not offer much for a German withdrawal from Samoa, while Salisbury would oppose any concessions over Morocco. By the following day, however, he reported that the South African situation had worsened again after the Transvaal’s bold attempt to offer concessions to the Uitlanders in return for the abolition of all suzerainty. Although Salisbury denied that war was in sight and contested Hatzfeldt’s view that the Dual Alliance would take advantage of Britain’s embarrassment, Wilhelm welcomed the South African news. The prime minister, he noted, had forgotten that Russia would move towards India and Persia during such a war, ‘and then our declaration of friendship will begin to rise high in the market, especially in London!’21
On the basis of this information, German policy was formulated. While attention was focussed upon Delcassé’s talks in St Petersburg upon the one hand and the looming prospects of a South African war upon the other, Berlin would increase its pressure upon London for a quick settlement of the Samoan question; and to turn the screw still tighter, Hatzfeldt was told that a settlement before the kaiser’s visit was an ‘absolute necessity’. Nevertheless, the German terms did not appear to be excessive, for while Germany took Upolu and America Tutuila, Britain would be compensated with Savai’i, the Tongan group and the rather insignificant Savage Island. If, however, the British insisted that they must have Upolu and Savai’i, Germany would withdraw for something of equal value, such as Zanzibar or the English part of New Guinea or the Solomons. Clearly, Bülow had little personal attachment to Upolu, and his chief concern was to maintain the ‘Free Hand’ and to satisfy public opinion.22
Berlin’s view of the situation in Britain was basically the correct one, although the Germans tended to exaggerate the differences between Salisbury and Chamberlain over South African policy. Certainly, as Brodrick himself noted, ‘all minds are on the Transvaal’ and the Cabinet was meeting almost weekly to consider the grave development in South Africa.23 But it was not correct, and this Professor Grenville has clearly demonstrated, to portray Chamberlain as the war-monger and Salisbury as the statesman preferring peace at almost any price. Nor was it really true to imagine that only Salisbury had his eye upon the overall diplomatic scene, although this clearly was in line with his normal practice of considering the wider implications of any action. Other members of the government, but more particularly Goschen, Balfour, Chamberlain, Devonshire and Brodrick, were anxiously watching the diplomatic manoeuvres of the European powers at this stage. The chief difference was that they all believed in principle that the kaiser should be wooed into friendship as a way of forestalling any continental coalition: Salisbury, much more sceptical about the chances of any such combination being formed, did not. His views on this were shared by the permanent staff: while Goschen found the Delcasse-Muraviev talks ‘not pleasant reading’, Sanderson referred Lascelles to the rumours of a hostile coalition and added, ‘I scarcely think that it sounds likely.’24
The prime minister was obviously not eager to enter into lengthy and probably heated discussions with the Germans at this crucial moment. In addition to the impending war, his wife had been seriously ill since July and this was gravely affecting his spirits. Hamilton, the secretary for India found him ‘very low & depressed: he has now a very heavy load of responsibilities’25 Consequently, when Salisbury discussed the Samoan commissioners’ report at the end of August with Hatzfeldt, he declared that it would be better to wait until he met Bülow during the imperial visit later in the year. He would then propose that the two powers should decide by lot which one should receive both Upolu and Savai’i, with Tutuila automatically falling to the United States. Since the latter island was some distance from the other two, it could be governed separately without much difficulty.
Dismayed by these ideas, the ambassador believed a success to be ‘extraordinarily doubtful’ when he received his instructions a few days later to press for a quick solution. He had much preferred to leave it to Bülow and Salisbury, and pointed out privately that the prime minister would argue that Savai’i and Tonga had been frequently offered to Britain and always turned down as being inadequate. Moreover, if Berlin asked for something as valuable as Zanzibar or New Guinea for its withdrawal, Salisbury would claim an equal compensation for a British retreat from the group. Stressing that the prime minister was probably serious when he suggested tossing up for Samoa, Hatzfeldt could only propose that Germany remain cool to Britain and render no friendly services to her.26
Anticipating stiff resistance from the prime minister, Hatzfeldt hoped to sound out Chamberlain as soon as the latter came into London.27 If the colonial secretary could be persuaded to agree, then he could use his influence upon Salisbury; if not, then Hatzfeldt would resume his more direct talks. It was no novel course the ambassador was suggesting. Often believing the two statesmen to be equally powerful, the Germans made a habit of switching from one to the other upon a number of questions; and because of Chamberlain’s openly-expressed wish for a close understanding with Germany and Salisbury’s known desire to settle things with Russia and France, the colonial secretary was often secretly sought out in such a way. Interestingly enough, if these two-tiered manoeuvres failed completely, then the prime minister was adjudged to be the more influential; if they succeeded, then it was due to Chamberlain’s influence. Thus the German dislike of the ‘French’ Salisbury, as Bülow called him,28 was always linked to the results of any particular request to the British government.
Chamberlain, however, was not to be contacted and in the meantime Holstein came up with the idea that the partition problem itself should be submitted to arbitration. On 8 September, despite his own doubts, Hatzfeldt therefore broached the topic with the prime minister. The occasion was hardly suitable, for that day the Cabinet had decided to send 10,000 troops from England and India to South Africa in view of the possibility of a Boer attack upon Natal, and thus the British were too busy to bother with Samoa. Nevertheless, Salisbury did not altogether reject the idea of an arbitration and listened carefully when the ambassador explained that by such a method neither government could be blamed by its public opinion for losing Upolu if a neutral judge decided against them. While asking for a written précis of these suggestions, he promised that he would consult his Cabinet colleagues. The chances of an early settlement, Hatzfeldt felt, were therefore not too gloomy.29
Three days later, the ambassador’s hopes were shattered by a twin assault. After receiving the written précis, Salisbury passed it on to the Colonial Office, apparently with a favourable minute. Wingfield, the permanent under-secretary, felt that they still ought to object to a partition of Samoa, to which Chamberlain replied: ‘I agree. We should discourage any idea of partition as it is obvious that the German plan would take the oyster, leaving us the shell.’30 Their fear clearly was that Upolu would be given to Germany. On 12 September, therefore, the prime minister informed Hatzfeldt that he could not enter into any arbitration arrangement unless he knew in advance by what principles the judge would be guided in deciding which nation should be given that particular island, since, according to the German idea, this was all that was to be settled and the losing nation would automatically and without appeal take the other islands named.31
At almost exactly the same time, Bülow had cabled to the Auswärtiges Amt that the kaiser could not accept any scheme whereby Upolu might not become German. Public opinion was too fixed upon the island where most of the German trade was concentrated, and where German sailors had lost their lives, to allow it to fall into British hands, particularly after the events of that spring. While his fears were chiefly occasioned by the belief that only Upolu and Savai’i were to go to arbitration and a few days later he seemed readier to accept the scheme which involved the Tongan group and Savage Island, Wilhelm had revealed yet again his acute awareness of what Upolu meant to German colonial circles. If he convinced himself of its necessity, then his entourage and diplomats could do nothing against his demand and would have to strive for Upolu, even if the alternatives seemed more attractive to them. At any rate, Hatzfeldt was left in no doubt that Wilhelm ‘looks on this question as the acid test for our attitude towards England’.32
It was then, late on 13 September, that Berlin received the news of the prime minister’s caution over the arbitration principles and that he seemed to be attempting to postpone the question. Nor were Salisbury’s own proposals very attractive, since he suggested either a plebiscite by the Samoans themselves, or that the nation receiving Savai’i should also receive a sum of money with which to build a harbour, thus making it as attractive as Upolu. He also had the nerve to suggest that both islands should be split down the midde and divided between them. Hatzfeldt reported privately that ‘Salisbury is turning and twisting like an eel’ and that he was clearly waiting to see how events in South Africa would develop before committing himself. This opinion both Richthofen and, later, Bülow fully shared, while the kaiser made several angry minutes upon the ambassador’s despatch.33
At this point, Holstein appears to have made a grave decision by himself, for Bülow was away and Richthofen rarely acted upon his own initiative: Hatzfeldt was privately told to ‘Chance it now for bend or break, applying all means of pressure.34 On this very day, 14 September, the ambassador had just discovered that his job was perhaps in jeopardy as a result of his failure to extract concessions from Salisbury. This, Hatzfeldt pointed out, was very unfair, and the rumour seems to have been a false one. However, it cannot but have affected the letter he wrote to Salisbury, warning him that ‘an absolutely trustworthy source’ had let him know that unless the kaiser was satisfied in the Samoan question there would be a complete change in Germany’s general policy (‘un changement complet de notre politique generale’) and that he would be withdrawn from London.35 The threat had been made, openly and clearly; and the only question that remained was how the prime minister would respond to it.
On the following day, Salisbury replied, apparently without having consulted anyone on this matter. He would deeply regret the ambassador’s withdrawal, he wrote, ‘but no fear of consequences ... could justify me in accepting terms that would not adequately express our rights’. A humiliating bargain would arouse great feeling both in England and Australia, and this, not any personal caprice, was the reason for his policy. In his next few lines, he attempted to impress upon Hatzfeldt the plain fact that the idea, so firmly fixed in Berlin’s mind, of Britain being especially dependent upon Germany was absolutely wrong.
This was, in a nutshell, Salisbury’s German policy, and had been so ever since he had wriggled away from diplomatic dependence upon Bismarck. By this blunt refusal to acknowledge Berlin’s arguments or to succumb to their pressure, the prime minister had called their bluff, albeit in a most sorrowful and polite manner. The next move was up to the Germans. They, however, were already in action, for on the previous day, after a week of patient waiting and hoping, contact had been established with Chamberlain.
On 12 September 1899, Baron von Eckardstein wrote to Chamberlain and requested an interview with him. The Baron explained to the colonial secretary that he had recently returned from Berlin, where people were hoping for a satisfactory elimination of the points which separated the two governments. This was a rosy description of the feelings at the Wilhelmstrasse, where, if Eckardstein’s memoirs can be believed, Holstein was contemplating those blunt threats which he was in fact to order Hatzfeldt to issue a few days later. Nevertheless, since the knowledge of Salisbury’s procrastinations had not reached Berlin before Eckardstein left, he was given instructions to attempt to reach an unofficial arrangement on Samoa with his acquaintance Chamberlain should the ambassador’s efforts with Salisbury prove fruitless. As it happened, this second negotiator fortuitously entered the scene just when the formal discussions appeared to have completely broken down. Only on the sixteenth did Bülow and the kaiser learn of Hatzfeldt’s private letter to Salisbury, and they accepted without demur the explanation that since the prime minister remained stubborn it would be better to circumvent him.37 It was, after all, the only alternative, apart from the complete breakdown which nobody wanted, to long and protracted discussions with Salisbury.
The Anglo-German dispute over Samoa placed the colonial secretary in an ambivalent position. Although his expectations of an alliance with Berlin had been somewhat subdued since the previous year and he had informed Eckardstein in April that ‘now it is too late’, he still firmly believed that a good understanding with Germany would assist the manifold problems of the British empire; and that, if such an understanding could be attained by disposing of the minor controversies between them, an alliance might yet be possible. In the early summer of 1898, when jotting down ideas for a seven-year defensive arrangement between the two powers, he had noted that Samoa was one of the smaller matters which should be settled within this overall scheme.38 Moreover, since he was particularly concerned with the South African question, it was natural that he should place it above all others as the situation there worsened. On the other hand, Chamberlain was well aware of his duties to the Australasian Colonies. As Hatzfeldt explained;
Nevertheless, throughout 1899 Chamberlain was considering a settlement which might satisfy both sides. In May, when it had become apparent that Germany would not accept the Gilberts as the price of her withdrawal, the colonial minister wondered if Berlin would be satisfied with the British Solomon Islands and Savage Island in return for London’s assumption of control in Upolu, Savai’i and the Tongan group. He also had in mind some final partition of the neutral area in West Africa lying between Togoland and the Gold Coast, which had been a growing source of trouble to both sides for many years.40 Yet, although Chamberlain was clearly in favour of a far-reaching agreement with Germany, it was he, and not Salisbury, who had prevented the German suggestion for an arbitration of the Samoan affair from taking place. The colonial secretary’s views were succinctly stated in a note of I5 September.
While he willingly agreed to meet Eckardstein, therefore, his chief concern was to get Germany out of Upolu at least.
By I8 September, this determination had somewhat altered. On the same day as Chamberlain’s above note (i.e., the fifteenth), Richthofen had hinted that Germany would probably reject parts of the commissioners’ report, that the kaiser’s trip to Windsor might be affected and that Berlin might wish to raise the question of German rights in Tonga, where Britain had recently concluded a treaty with the king. Obviously, none of this made pleasant reading for the British, who were now made aware of the many consequences of refusing to agree upon a partition arrangement. On that same day, Salisbury had outlined the state of the negotiations to Lascelles, concluding somewhat sarcastically that Hatzfeldt’s anxiety on the topic appeared to arise neither from the value of the islands nor the feelings of the German public but from the fact ‘that it is a question on which the emperor himself has fixed his heart, and is pursuing his own solution with his well-known inflexible tenacity’.42 Since this despatch was sent on the same day as his firm reply to Hatzfeldt’s private letter, the prime minister appeared to be unmoved by the German threats. Three days later, upon receipt of Lascelles’ own report, he was rather more worried and confided to Chamberlain: ‘I do not see my way “out” quite clearly—and am doubtful what to recommend. Both the German Emperor and New Zealand are quite unreasonable and it is difficult to steer between the two.’ Forwarding Hatzfeldt’s warning of the fourteenth to him, he pointed out how ‘Samoa and the Transvaal are not wholly disconnected, at least in the mind of the German Emperor.’43
It was knowledge of this particular letter which occasioned the colonial secretary’s famous remark that ‘The policy of the German Empire since Bismarck has always been one of undisguised blackmail!’ Yet despite his apparently greater indignation, Chamberlain’s reaction was quite different to Salisbury’s. Believing that ‘at the present time the Transvaal question is of much greater importance than any other’, he was willing to pay the price for German support ‘and we must face the colonial indignation as best we can’. It is also interesting to note, with regard to later developments, that the prime minister was openly told of the planned meeting with Eckardstein and that this letter concluded with the words: ‘In any case, I will follow your lead and accept your decision.’44 When a copy of Salisbury’s despatch of 15 September to Lascelles reached the Colonial Office a few days later, the idea of withdrawing from Samoa was vigorously attacked by all the officials there but Chamberlain meaningfully noted: ‘I am in communication with Lord Salisbury on this matter which is complicated by other Imperial considerations.’45 As Bülow had predicted, the looming war with the Transvaal and the rumours of intervention by the European powers were beginning to influence the colonial secretary’s mind.
There was absolutely no intention upon the German government’s part of joining an anti-British coalition, however, and they hoped that merely the threat posed by this eventuality would be enough to convince London to give way over Samoa. More they would not do, for several reasons. Firstly, the kaiser was furious with Muraviev and did not wish to listen to his ‘ingratiating phrases’. Wilhelm thought that this was a Russian device to throw the western nations against each other while she expanded elsewhere, i.e., that the Russians believed ‘that things will start up in the Transvaal and then they wish to go to work in Asia, Persia, etc. and need us to cover their backs. Conte de fil blanc’.46 If a continental coalition opposed Britain, the vast trade and the colonial territories of the Germans would be seized while Russia suffered virtually nothing. Furthermore, the German policy was specifically aimed at avoiding any risk of conflict with Britain, at least until a much larger fleet had been constructed.
Finally, Berlin did not trust the Dual Alliance. Only if Germany’s territorial integrity, and this included Alsace-Lorraine, was guaranteed by treaty, would Berlin even contemplate such an idea. While this condition was not discussed until the spring of 1900, and then abandoned in anger by both sides, it was always the conditio sine qua non for the Germans. While they made encouraging noises to the French during the early stages of the conflict in South Africa, they quickly backed away as soon as the Samoan arrangement had been secured. Even had they recalled Hatzfeldt from London because of Salisbury’s intransigence, it is scarcely likely that they would have opposed Britain: they might, however, have given the Dual Alliance more encouragement to intervene. It was they, and not the French, who were the chief obstacles to a continental alliance during the Boer War.47
The only matter upon which the Germans would stand firm. against London was in the question of the Portuguese colonies, although here also no war was contemplated. But if Britain even temporarily took control of Delagoa Bay, Wilhelm and Bülow were determined to seize Tiger Bay, in Portuguese Angola, to obtain compensation and to stem the roar of protest which would inevitably come from German colonial circles. Lisbon’s feelings on the subject were, of course, to be ignored. The decision was kept secret even from Hatzfeldt, although he may have suggested the move in the first place, and three German warships were ordered to patrol near Tiger Bay. Only on 16 October, when a British occupation of southern Mozambique appeared to be less likely, was this order rescinded.48 In view of London’s firm commitment to protect Portugal’s territory, which was given in the treaty Salisbury was negotiating with Soveral at this very time, it was indeed fortunate for Anglo-German relations that the British desisted from taking control of Delagoa Bay.
Part of the German ‘bluff’ to make Britain more eager to bow to their wishes over Samoa lay in the attempts to persuade the Czar to call in at Potsdam in early November upon his journey from Copenhagen and Darmstadt to St Petersburg. Holstein had advocated such a meeting in July in the hope of improving Russo-German relations which the dispute over the Straits had disturbed. However, the Czar turned down the invitation, explaining that he would not have the time, which provoked Wilhelm to write angrily about the Russian ruler’s ‘laziness and passivity’. Worried about this development, Büllow persuaded the kaiser that their efforts should continue ‘both in the interests of the monarchical order and our Weltpolitik’. As he explained to the Wilhelmstrasse, ‘In view of our position towards England it is necessary that our relations with Russia experience no darkening. The better we stand with Russia, the more regard the English will pay us.’49 After much earnest pleading by the Germans, Nicholas reluctantly gave way and agreed to pay a short visit on 8 November. Once more, Büllow would be able to demonstrate to the British that Germany stood well with Russia; and, in the shorter term, this meeting would provoke further rumours of negotiations for a continental alliance and further nervousness in the British camp.
While the Germans approached the Samoan talks of September and October in an apparently strong diplomatic position, the British one was clearly very weak. By 19 September, as his note to Chamberlain reveals, even Salisbury appeared to be uncertain as to what should be done. In contrast, Büllow cabled to the Auswärtiges Amt that they would be blamed for lack of skill if the worsening crisis in South Africa was not used to obtain a satisfactory settlement of several questions outstanding with England ‘especially that of Samoa’. At the same time, he declared that it must not seem as if Germany desired to exploit Britain’s difficulties and Holstein several times urged Hatzfeldt to say that it was Salisbury’s tergiversations alone which had postponed the negotiations until this time.50
Chamberlain made his suspicions about the ‘opportunism’ very clear in his first talk with Eckardstein on 20 September. He nevertheless recognized the force of the German insinuations and sought to arrive at a quick solution of the problem by proposing that Germany should receive the very fertile British-owned Volta Triangle while the Neutral Zone fell to Britain. Because of this great offer by London, the colonial minister claimed Upolu and offered Savai’i to Berlin, while the Tongan group and Savage Island should be divided equally. This latter point, due to the Baron’s query, was left open to further discussion but a promising start had been made provided that the Germans would agree to giving up Upolu. Interestingly enough, Chamberlain assured Eckardstein that these were his own ideas, put forward without prior consultation with other ministers. Yet they were almost exactly the same as the suggestions Salisbury had made to him on the previous day. By this scheme, the prime minister had written, they would sacrifice the Manchester and Liverpool merchants in the Volta but it was preferred since the latter, unlike the Australasians, ‘will certainly never seek their independence.51
Hatzfeldt pointed out to his superiors that these discussions were clearly useful if they could agree to the British demand for Upolu. This Berlin was ready to do, although they preferred to drop the Volta Delta out of the talks, to partition the Neutral Zone and to take Savai’i, Tonga and Savage Island in return for that island. They also wished to see the German firms on Upolu bought out by Britain if they so wished. The prospects further increased on the twenty-second, when the ambassador reported that Salisbury, after attempting in vain to persuade him to give up all Samoa and the Neutral Zone for the Volta, seemed inclined to consider these ideas, agreeing also that the matter should go for official arbitration to alleviate public criticism on either side, although everything would be secretly settled in advance. Bülow optimistically telegraphed the kaiser that a solution was near, and even the more cautious Hatzfeldt thought that it was only a week or so away.52
By 25 September, Berlin was reconsidering its demands. The pressure of events in South Africa, the importance of the kaiser’s visit to England, and Germany’s better relations with America were all favourable factors: ‘We must strike while the iron is hot’, Bülow declared. Were Germany to give up Upolu (and this was now to be decided objectively by the king of Sweden and Norway), then she must receive in return Savai’i, the Tongan group, Savage Island and the Gilberts. In addition, she would be given the Volta Triangle and would receive the Yendi part of the Neutral Zone, Britain taking the rest. Although the Gilberts were felt to be ‘completely worthless’ and Yendi slightly less so, and these places were asked for solely to appease German public opinion, the overall terms were much stiffer. There was also the likely chance that Germany would take Upolu and the Volta under this scheme, whereas the British had only brought the latter territory into the talks in an effort to get Germany out of Upolu and even out of the entire Samoan group. A further reason for these extra claims was probably to be found in the fact that, as Holstein reported, the navy was urging the kaiser to keep Upolu ‘since German blood has flowed there’.53
Hatzfeldt did not object to these increases but pointed out that the British would apparently only negotiate if they were certain of getting Upolu. He was therefore given full discretion in this matter and proceeded to prepare instructions for Eckardstein’s talk with Chamberlain on the twenty-eighth, which would be followed by his own on the following day. The first of these meetings developed quite promisingly and Chamberlain appeared willing to agree to the West African settlement and to buying out the D.H.P.G. provided that this procedure was also adopted for British firms in the Volta Delta. Differences over whether Britain could keep both sides of the Volta river near the mouth and how many of the smaller island groups in the Pacific would fall to Germany were left rather vague, according to Eckardstein’s account. The colonial secretary was openly in favour of a quick and comprehensive settlement and had in fact told his parliamentary under-secretary, Selborne, that ‘it could certainly be a great advantage if we could clean the slate of all matters of controversy at the same time’, much as he disliked the German habit of taking advantage of the British difficulties.54
Salisbury proved rather less conciliatory, despite the fact that at the Cabinet meeting of that morning (the twenty-ninth) it had been decided to recall Parliament and to call out the reserves since the Orange Free State intended to ally with the Transvaal and the Boers remained ‘obstinate’.55 He had talked with Chamberlain and agreed upon the mutual buying-out of firms, but on the two issues which the colonial minister had rather glided over the prime minister was very firm. The Volta was worth much more than the Neutral Zone and there could thus be no separate arrangement in West Africa: the advantages the British were giving away there should be compensated by Germany in the Pacific. Moreover, Salisbury absolutely refused to give up Tonga, and instead made queries about Berlin withdrawing from her extraterritorial rights in Zanzibar, an idea that had been touched upon previously. His attitude confirmed all the old German suspicions of him and it was resolved to continue working with Chamberlain behind his back. The colonial secretary was also to be told that these obstructionist tactics regarding Tonga were threatening to upset the agreement he was striving for.56
Here again, however, the gap between Salisbury and Chamberlain was greatly over-estimated in Berlin. The colonial secretary’s heads of agreement, of which the prime minister had received a copy as early as the twenty-eighth, showed that Britain was to get Tonga and both sides of the Volta river mouth. Either Chamberlain had not made this clear enough or, more likely, Eckardstein had read into his remarks a meaning more favourable than there actually was. The two ministers also agreed on the day following that Hatzfeldt’s claim for Tonga was a ‘try-on’. Consequently when Eckardstein again appealed for an interview, he was given a discouraging answer. Perhaps Chamberlain, as he explained in his letter, was genuinely worried that Salisbury would take offence at these private pourparlers but it seems equally clear that he wished to abandon the talks with the Baron since he could think of no way of satisfying both the British and German claims. Only reluctantly, therefore, did he agree to resume discussions with Eckardstein the next time he came to town, although warning that his remarks upon Tonga had been misunderstood.57
In Berlin, the South African situation was being watched with almost as great a concern as that shown in London. Using the latest military reports, Bülow calculated on 29 September that if Salisbury managed to hold off a war until December, the Boers would be defeated by the vast influx of imperial troops, British prestige would rise and Germany would be given the cold shoulder. Only if the Boers struck soon would concessions be given in Samoa and on the Volta, and Hatzfeldt was pestered daily for the latest news from South Africa. When, on 30 September, the ambassador reported that the prime minister still maintained that war was not necessary, the kaiser angrily wrote: ‘Swindle!’58 Fearing that Chamberlain would become enraged at the criticisms of the German press, the colonial secretary was assured that the German government would remain absolutely neutral. On the other hand, for internal reasons, Bülow dared not accede to the British request that the German consul in Pretoria take charge of Britain’s interests in the Transvaal should war break out. Furthermore, it was his policy to offer no favours to London until the Samoan matter was settled. For three days, the pros and cons of the British request were argued about in the Wilhelmstrasse until it was decided to await the outcome of Hatzfeldt’s next talk with Salisbury, explaining this delay away by pointing out that both Wilhelm and Bülow were on holiday.59
The meeting of 6 October hardly had much chance of success. The German government insisted that it must have the Tongan group if Britain took Upolu: it also claimed the Gilberts, Ellice, Phoenix and Union groups, and Savage Island. At this, the prime minister declared that far too much was being demanded by Berlin. If Tonga went to Britain and Germany’s rights at Zanzibar were given up, a settlement might be possible but in any case more time was needed to consult the experts about all these territories. Under severe pressure himself to achieve an arrangement and desperately in need of a rest, Hatzfeldt urged haste upon Salisbury ‘with extraordinary vehemence’ and warned again that Germany’s future friendship was involved. His efforts were fruitless. The prime minister refused to consider the proposals ‘from such a point of view’: in other words, it was to be a settlement based solely upon a fair division of the territories in question and he declined again to acknowledge any special reason for buying Germany’s friendship. The matter was not pressing, he declared, although he hoped to consult the ambassador within a fortnight or so. After leaving the Foreign Office, a rather desperate Hatzfeldt wrote to persuade Salisbury to forget about an African settlement and merely to arrange by arbitration which country should have Upolu and which Savai’i. A full four days later, he received the short reply that although the terms of the talks were open to criticism, ‘this is not the opportunity for examining them’.60
It may be wondered if the German government ever forgave the prime minister for this icy rejection of all their arguments and his absolute indifference to their haste. Holstein in particular was amazed at his intransigence and believed that Salisbury’s hatred of the kaiser was affecting his entire outlook. A few hours later, he anxiously wondered whether the prime minister secretly felt that Germany was working with the Transvaal, and Bülow thought that the planned German railway from the Transvaal to the Atlantic could have given rise to this suspicion. Hatzfeldt felt that Salisbury was seeking an arrangement with the Russians and would therefore give Berlin nothing. No one could believe that he was being obstinate merely because he did not regard the terms as fair in the circumstances. The kaiser furiously decided that it would be better, in view of public opinion, to be pushed out of Samoa by force than to accept an unsatisfactory treaty. His visit to England, and the whole future course of German policy, were in the balance.
Despite Hatzfeldt’s pleas that they should wait until Chamberlain had been sounded out, the British request for representation in the Transvaal was refused, the excuse being given that the German consul in Pretoria was very inexperienced. In reality, fear of criticism at home and anger at Salisbury dictated this decision, and Hatzfeldt was instructed to inform the other Cabinet members privately of the real reason for the refusal and the possibility of the kaiser cancelling his trip. He was also to use Rothschild to work upon Goschen, Lansdowne, Balfour and others, and to stir them up against their chief. Perhaps the queen, or the Prince of Wales, or the foreign editor of the Times, or Rhodes could be brought in to compel the prime minister to give way, Holstein wildly suggested. If war did break out, perhaps the newspapers could point out that Salisbury was solely responsible for the lack of armaments on the British side? Perhaps Chamberlain could be told that a Times article criticising any concessions to Germany had been directly inspired by the Foreign Office? Anything was worth a try, to weaken the prime minister’s position and to force him to give way.61
While some indications of these manoeuvres did reach Salisbury, it is difficult to believe that he was influenced by them at all: if anything, his suspicions of Germany increased. Brodrick, who also resented the kaiser’s ‘pistolling us about Samoa’, reported him as being ‘very well & in a very impertinent mood. No yield anywhere I’m glad to say.’62 In fact, the prime minister had decided to ignore the German protests and to turn to more important matters. His wife was slowly dying and he wished to spend all of this time out at Hatfield, though he was forced to pay swift visits to London to deal with the South African crisis. In particular, he was very busy with Soveral, the Portuguese minister, in re-negotiating the old treaties of alliance with Lisbon so as to prevent further arms supplies reaching the Boers. The two men were corresponding daily and meeting very frequently: indeed, Soveral visited the prime minister shortly after Hatzfeldt had left on 6 October. Despite his doubts that the Portuguese were playing ‘fast and loose’, Salisbury reached an agreement on 14 October, when a secret Anglo-Portuguese treaty was signed in London. It did not legally contradict the arrangement with Germany of the previous year and Berlin could have been under no doubt that Britain was not eager to see the Portuguese Empire collapse. Nevertheless, the prime minister must have felt satisfied that he had nullified even further the German assumptions regarding their August 1898 treaty and in some way paid them back for their pressure over Samoa.63
Thoughout this period, Chamberlain had remained at Birmingham, where he received several anxious letters from Eckardstein. After Hatzfeldt’s fruitless talks of the following day, all Germans hopes were pinned upon him: with war apparently only a few days away, there was still some hope and Hatzfeldt optimistically reported that the other members of the Cabinet had also promised to help. Chamberlain himself had agreed to meet Eckardstein on the ninth and his letter revealed some concern at the personal questions and ‘underlying prejudices’ which prevented friendship between the two countries, although he also believed that Germany’s need for this was greater than Britain’s.64 On the day appointed, the Baron called at the Colonial Office and the discussions were resumed. Little was decided, since Chamberlain was rather uncertain about several of the matters discussed and required at least another day to go into them. Nevertheless, after some preliminary diplomatic sparring with Eckardstein, he put forward the idea of Germany receiving the English Solomon Islands, the entire Volta Triangle and Savage Island while Britain took the Neutral Zone, the Tongan group, and both Savai’i and Upolu. Since this introduced a new basis for discussions, the Baronalso needed to refer back for instructions.65
Both sides came away from this talk in a rather uncertain manner, though still with a fair amount of optimism regarding a settlement. On the same day, the German position seemed immeasurably strengthened by the Transvaal’s action in issuing an ultimatum which the British would be bound to reject. War was inevitable, therefore, and Chamberlain’s desire for a speedy arrangement would surely increase. On the evening of the ninth, however, a further factor entered the scene and assumed great significance upon the British side. For the first time in the entire Samoan dispute, astonishingly enough, the Admiralty had been requested to give a strategic appreciation of that group and of the other Pacific territories under discussion. Its answers, which Chamberlain had just received, offered him the chance of arriving at a quick solution. Guided by this information, he was able to propose a settlement which would eliminate the Anglo-German points of dispute in the Pacific and West Africa and, so he hoped, would lead to the alliance he still desired; which would more than satisfy the sceptical and stubborn Salisbury; and which would delight the kaiser and the German public.
Shortly after his fruitless meeting with Hatzfeldt on 6 October, Salisbury sent his assistant under-secretary, Villiers, round to the Admiralty to ask for a strategic appreciation of the various island groups which had been the subject of that day’s discussion. The naval viewpoint was summarized in a private letter by Goschen, the first lord, who wrote:
Thus the group which had been the object of two decades of diplomatic wranglings, which had been extolled by colonial enthusiasts as a focal point in the Pacific, and over which the Australasians had displayed the greatest interest in case a foreign power be established there, was regarded as worthless for naval purposes—at least, insofar as Upolu and Savai’i were concerned. Yet these were the only islands which could be considered, since the American claims to Tutuila had been recognized by all since 1889. No one disputed the physical advantages which Pago-Pago possessed as a harbour, although its strategical value was also not greatly valued by the Admiralty.
The official reply to Villiers’ queries merely expanded the above. The American harbour of Pago-Pago was ‘the only place of much importance’ in Samoa; Upolu’s harbours were unsafe and Savai’i ‘would be totally useless by itself’. The Tongan group earned a much higher recommendation, for it possessed ‘several excellent harbours that may be of use in the future ... Its position near Fiji makes it undesirable that it should fall into European hands other than Great Britain’s’. In an additional note, which was probably taking account of neutrality problems during war, the Admiralty pointed out that ‘If Great Britain is not to be paramount in Samoa it is preferable that the group should be in the hands of one other power. Should this be arranged it is essential that the Kingdom of Tonga should be secured to Great Britain either as a protectorate or otherwise.67 It was these considerations which were to give Chamberlain the basis for his sought-after breakthrough.
Nevertheless, if Tonga was suddenly raised to a place of some importance in late 1899, it must be admitted that it had always formed part of the British calculation in the southwest Pacific. Though unwilling to assume control of the group so long as its internal affairs remained regular, the British much disliked the prospect of another power gaining influence there; it was far too close to Fiji, their most important possession in the southwest Pacific. Because many of Fiji’s inhabitants were in fact Tongans or maintained close links with Tonga, there was always the possibility that a foreign power which controlled the latter might also have an indirect influence upon Fiji. Thus Tonga like Samoa was placed in a ‘neutral’ zone by the Anglo-German demarcation agreement of April 1886, and Salisbury constantly looked to it as a bargaining-counter to appease New Zealand feelings when he ceded British rights in Samoa to Bismarck. In the 1890s, however, the British government recognized that Wellington would fiercely resent such a transaction; and, in any case, London came to believe that because of the growing British trading predominance in Tonga that the group was virtually theirs and therefore no compensation at all for withdrawing from Samoa. British policy towards Tonga was basically negative and little thought was given to strategic considerations until 1898.
In that year the incursion of the powers into the Far East and the Pacific caused the Foreign Office and Admiralty to examine all harbours which might be useful to another nation as a coaling station. Here too, although acknowledging that Pago-Pago provided an excellent anchorage and that Vavau in the Tongan group ‘was an almost perfect war harbour’, their lordships insisted that the Pacific islands were ‘off most trade routes, and not strategically placed so as to be useful to Foreign Powers except the United States in the future’. Persuaded by the Admiralty that only potential bases on the route to the Far East were of import, the Foreign Office ignored the Pacific; indeed, the specific replies to Villiers’ queries in October 1899 were clearly based upon this earlier correspondence, which the Foreign Office had forgotten about. Nevertheless, the Admiralty had been a little perturbed at signs of a reviving German interest in Tonga at the end of 1898, and had suggested a loan to the king in return for a promise not to alienate his land to another power. Chamberlain, however, dismissed such fears, claiming that the establishment of second-rate naval powers in islands only made them ‘hostages given to fortune’; and the pledges secured from the king of Tonga in March 1899 further stemmed any worries. The primary motive of the Colonial Office was to preserve the group’s autonomy, not to keep out the warships of other nations.68
It seems evident, therefore, that Tonga was not entirely ignored in these years, even though it took second place to Samoa and the Colonial Office insisted that there would be ‘no question of our accepting Tonga as an equivalent for our interests in Samoa’.69 It is also clear that the information contained in the Admiralty memorandum of 7 October should not have been treated as something absolutely new. Nevertheless, it was received as such, particularly by Chamberlain. This can partly be explained by the fact that the 1898 correspondence upon strategic coaling stations was never sent to the Colonial Office. But the key fact seems to be that here, for the first time, was an authoritative comparison of the two groups from a strategic standpoint and that the Admiralty’s advice was that Samoa was useless and Tonga ‘very important’. Given the Colonial Office’s awareness that the Australasian fears of foreign intrusion in the Pacific, even though exaggerated, were also strategically based, it is not surprising that this information should have caused Chamberlain to reconsider his opinions and to call to mind the apparent German designs upon Tonga earlier in the year and Richthofen’s hint of action on 15 September. Moreover, it was a matter which would affect Salisbury’s outlook, too. Despite his scepticism about military experts, the prime minister’s entire foreign policy reveals that he always gave priority to strategic considerations; and this was particularly so in the Pacific, where maritime communications and the need of coaling stations were of great importance; the Admiralty’s strategic assessments had caused alterations in the government’s policy during the 1886 Anglo-German demarcation talks, and had also influenced Salisbury’s attitude towards the American acquisition of exclusive rights to Pearl Harbour in 1887.70
A consciousness of the importance of strategic factors was therefore very strong upon the British side. Upon receiving the Admiralty advice, Chamberlain promptly forgot about his ‘hostages given to fortune’ theory and concentrated upon securing Tonga for the British Empire—a marked contrast to 20 September, when he had apparently considered the idea of partitioning that group with Germany. Doubtless the wish to solve this entire matter quickly and to get upon better terms with Berlin was the underlying motive of the colonial secretary; but only when he learnt of the true priorities for British policy in the Pacific was he able to pursue his larger aim, smoothly and confidently. By 9 October he knew that the Tongan group possessed ‘the best harbour in the Pacific’ and began to think out a new solution, though his jottings indicate that this information only reached him after his inconclusive talk with Eckardstein, since there is a remark on the same piece of notepaper, ‘Contest between Herbert Bismarck & Count Bülow for Chancellorship.’71 During the evening, therefore, the colonial minister worked upon his new proposals and he returned to the task on the following morning, assisted by Herbert and Anderson. He also telegraphed Eckardstein that ‘a new situation has arisen’ and that he was ‘hopeful of a real settlement’. This new development Hatzfeldt naturally took to be the outbreak of the war, which was to his mind ‘advantageous for us and it is very good that we have waited so long’.72 In point of fact, it is much more likely that Chamberlain was referring to his information about Tonga rather than the Boer War, although the latter could be a useful excuse for a re-framing of the settlement he had discussed with Eckardstein only twenty-four hours earlier.
On the afternoon of the tenth, the Baron called at the Colonial Office to learn of the ‘new situation’. There Chamberlain confidently outlined a definite settlement, under which Germany would take the Volta triangle including the left bank at the mouth, Savage Island and all of the British-owned Solomon Islands. If the latter seemed unsatisfactory, they could instead have the middle three islands of the Solomon group only and take the Gilberts, leaving Britain with the three southern islands of the Solomons. In return London would take the Tongan Islands, Upolu and Savai’i, and the Neutral Zone apart from the Yendi region. Germany would abandon her extraterritorial rights in Zanzibar, and both countries would buy out the firms of the other’s nationals in the territories they took over. On Anderson’s prompting, Chamberlain laid great stress upon the fact that Germany was only giving up her share of joint rights in neutral regions whereas Britain was actually making concessions from her own empire. The Volta Triangle was as valuable as the whole of Togoland while the Neutral Zone was ‘a white elephant’. This was his idea of a perfect settlement, it would dispose of all points of dispute between them and it would be a great gain for Germany. Moreover, Salisbury had already given his consent to it and the matter could therefore be arranged swiftly.
Chamberlain also offered, somewhat deprecatingly, a second proposal, whereby Germany would obtain Upolu and Savai’i. For this, however, she would have to hand over the German Solomon Islands, at the same time allowing Britain to take over Tonga and all of the Neutral Zone apart from Yendi. In other words, Germany would give up parts of her territory while Britain only surrendered joint rights to neutral lands. This latter proposal Salisbury was unaware of and would probably strongly oppose. It might fall through; it would certainly take longer to arrange. It was very disadvantageous for Germany’s real interests but if they were ‘stupid enough’ to choose it, then the colonial secretary would try to effect a settlement along such lines. But Germany should ask for nothing more with the second scheme, for it would be promptly refused. Nor did he want Upolu and Savai’i to be separated, as they were too close to each other to permit a divided control.73
Chamberlain’s plan now becomes very clear. He and Herbert agreed that ‘politically it would suit us “so far as Australia is concerned” to get the Germans out of Samoa.’74 Therefore Berlin was offered the utmost inducement, in the form of the much more valuable British-owned Volta triangle and the Solomon Islands, to agree to this scheme. The D.H.P.G. would also be bought out and this would free Bülow from the criticism that German trading interests had been ignored. Despite its manifold attractions, however, Chamberlain sensed that public sentiment in Germany might force its rulers to insist upon remaining in Samoa; if so, it would be paid for in full, Berlin losing all of Chamberlain’s tempting offers and instead surrendering the 8,000 square miles of the German Solomons for the 700 square miles of Samoa. But the most interesting feature of all, which the colonial minister took care to glide over in his conversation with Eckardstein, was that Tonga should fall to Britain whatever happened. Having satisfied the Admiralty about the strategic considerations and relieved Fiji and New Zealand of any worry about foreign naval bases in the southwest Pacific (unless the Germans were silly enough to attempt to convert Saluafata or Apia into one), having given the Australians the northern Solomons and New Zealand Tonga, and having avoided the loss of any territory in West Africa, this second proposal was equally favourable to Chamberlain and he was quietly confident that he could persuade others upon the British side to accept it, although he did not say so to Eckardstein. If possible, he wanted both Tonga and Samoa; if this was not possible, then he would take Tonga in any case, together with far larger compensations. Either way, so he calculated, he would win.
Chamberlain’s confidence also affected Eckardstein and his crony, Alfred Rothschild. Salisbury was informed by his secretary, McDonnell, that they were ‘in great feather and highly mysterious last night: and I fear this means a settlement for their unauthorised diplomacy’. The prime minister was unperturbed, however, for he had spoken to Chamberlain on the tenth and learnt of his scheme or, at least, of the first proposal. Salisbury, who had only briefly discussed this and erroneously believed that the proposals came from Eckardstein himself, found the idea that the Germans would give up all Samoa and Tonga ‘impossible’ but he planned to raise the matter with Hatzfeldt.75 If the prime minister was still unaware of his colleague’s deeper plan—probably he was not told of it until slightly later—then it is clear that there was no sign of the antagonism which Berlin believed to exist between the two men. On the following day, Salisbury attempted to contact the ambassador but was told that the latter was ill. While this was indeed true, the real reason for this polite refusal was the German suspicion that the prime minister was planning an unsatisfactory counter-offer and that it would be better to deal solely with Chamberlain. If an agreement was reached privately, then they would use the colonial secretary and the rest of the cabinet to force the agreement upon Salisbury.76
Despite the attractiveness of Chamberlain’s first offer, Bülow had decided by 11 October that only the second one could be discussed. Here, too, the advice of naval experts was decisive. As soon as Hatzfeldt’s telegraphic account of the Chamberlain-Eckardstein meeting of 9 October had been received in Berlin, both Tirpitz (Reich Navy Office) and Bendemann (Admiralty Staff) were asked whether the colonial secretary’s proposed compensations ‘for giving up our hitherto existing position in Samoa seem of full value, particularly in view of the requirements of the navy in that eastern part of the Pacific Ocean’. If they were not and the navy required a good harbour, say, in Tonga, then the Auswärtiges Amt would strive to achieve this.77
Bendemann, replying on the following day, declared that the British offers were inadequate compensation for a German withdrawal from both Samoa and Tonga, since neither the Volta triangle nor the southern Solomons possessed any strategic value, however great their economic potential. If political reasons demanded that Germany should give up her interests in the two island groups, then she should be offered another station, such as the Chagos Islands in the Indian Ocean.78 Tirpitz’s reply of 11 October contained much the same advice. If anything, he placed greater emphasis upon the importance of Samoa as a naval base and a landing-place for their future world cable, and he believed that even Tonga, should it be acquired, was no equivalent. Moving away from the purely naval aspects, Tirpitz also stressed the national and commercial considerations involved in Samoa: only Zanzibar or Walfisch Bay could be considered as adequate compensation for a withdrawal. Since he had many times pointed out to Bülow that the Samoan dispute must not lead to war with Britain, he also advised that, if neither Samoa could be retained by Germany nor sufficiently valuable territory obtained from the British, then it would be better
In view of this final remark, it is scarcely surprising that Tirpitz’s policy has been seen as a deliberate attempt to prolong the Samoan quarrel for the purposes of naval propaganda.80 In fact, he sent a further letter to the Auswärtiges Amt two days later but the contents of this can only serve to confirm the above suspicion. If adequate compensations such as Zanzibar could not be obtained and if some other territories must be accepted for their withdrawal for political reasons, the admiral wrote, then Germany should ask for all of the following: Vavau Island in the Tongan group, Walfisch Bay, the British Solomon Islands, the Gilbert Islands and the Chagos Islands. Of these, Vavau was the most valuable object.81 Since Tirpitz must have been aware that such a list of demands would outrage even Chamberlain (particularly in asking for Walfisch Bay just after the Boer War had commenced), it would appear that a prolongation of the Samoan dispute, with its effects upon the kaiser and German public opinion, would not have been unwelcome to him. Moreover, if Germany did obtain Samoa or the many compensations listed he could exploit the resultant increase in the government’s popularity to point out the need for more warships to protect the new colonies. He would benefit all ways.
Bülow, too, was thinking along the same lines. In a private letter to Tirpitz on 14 October, he declared that the admiral’s two memoranda had strengthened his view that they dare not freely leave Samoa. It meant too much to the German people, and his own prestige was also involved after his firm assurances on their rights in the group to the Reichstag. He had told Wilhelm of this, and the latter fully agreed.82 Possibly Bülow’s worry that Tirpitz might become the next chancellor moved him to avoid taking any action which could forfeit his popularity with the kaiser.83 But apart from this personal motive, he was never a man to place better relations with other powers, especially Britain, before his desire to please his master and to gain overseas successes which would strengthen the establishment at home.
Samoa, in fact, was part of a much bigger policy which was being secretly developed in Berlin at this time. At an Immediatvortrag held on 28 September, Tirpitz had presented Wilhelm with his plan for a vast increase of the German fleet. Although he had assured the Reichstag earlier that year that no new proposals would be introduced before the First Navy Law had run its course, the government had been privately considering a more forward policy throughout 1899. With the newspapers and public excited over the Samoan affair and now beginning to turn their attention to the crisis in South Africa, the time had come to strike. Tirpitz carefully outlined his scheme for a fleet of forty-five battleships, which would be achieved in two stages, the first possibly being put into effect in 1901 and the second some years later. The kaiser would thus possess a force that was second only in size to the Royal Navy.
Having this clearly-defined aim, Tirpitz then proceeded to explain the reasons behind his proposed measure. He accepted in the most extreme form the Darwinistic concepts of national rivalries, quoting Salisbury’s ‘dying empires’ speech with approval and declaring that ‘the creation of an effective fleet is an unconditional necessity for Germany without which she would be faced with ruin.’ She was swiftly and inevitably becoming a world industrial and commercial power, and this was leading to points of conflict with other nations: ‘therefore power (sea power) is essential if Germany will not quickly go under’.85 With this philosophy the kaiser was in full agreement. To be given an instrument with which to neutralize possible British objections to German overseas expansion (for this is what Tirpitz was proposing) was of great importance to Wilhelm and it would be well worth waiting a number of years until this aim was achieved.
Tirpitz’s arguments in his letter to the Auswärtiges Amt upon Chamberlain’s proposals were obviously wrong from the strategic viewpoint. Yet it would be unfair and naive to say that only the British Admiralty could place these Pacific islands in the right perspective and that Tirpitz was gravely led astray in predicting a glorious future for Samoa as a naval station. The real reasons for writing that letter have been given above. Moreover, he was also aware of the group’s comparative insignificance; it was Tirpitz who, as chief of staff in the High Command, had written that long protest in 1895 against wasting the whole Australian division upon the Samoan Islands throughout the year.86 It is unlikely that his views had changed much since then, particularly when the Germans knew that only Upolu and Savai’i came into the question and that neither island possessed a decent harbour. Apia and Saluafata, whose limitations had been revealed frequently since the 1889 hurricane, contradicted every principle of the ‘ideal fleet base’ which Knorr had laid down for the kaiser in the previous year.
But the most telling criticism of all is that any emphasis upon the value of Samoa from the naval point of view directly contradicted Tirpitz’s basic policy—to create a large battlefleet, based in the North Sea, to be used as a lever against England. In 1899, he was engaged in a fierce battle for the kaiser’s ear with the retired vice-admiral, Valois, who published a book which attempted to show how sea mastery could be wrested from the Royal Navy by use of hordes of fast armoured cruisers. This was strongly disapproved of by the authorities, since it might arouse suspicion in England. But Tirpitz had an even stronger reason for opposing such views. As he explained to his assistant, Büchsel
None of these criticisms of Tirpitz exclude the fact that the acquisition of Samoa would have been welcomed by the German navy. After the events of 1888-89, Upolu possessed an incalculable sentimental attraction for them too, even though its positive value was often derided. Moreover, the government would be widely praised if it succeeded in securing the group, and this was urgently needed to boost their popularity, which had shown signs of flagging: everyone was aware of the strength of the attacks upon the government from the colonial pressure groups as a result of this lack of success. Finally, as mentioned above, the possession of further overseas colonies would give the navy the chance to point out the necessity for an increased fleet to defend such places. None of these reasons, however, had anything to do with the physical and maritime benefits which Tirpitz claimed he foresaw the Samoan Islands per se would confer upon the German navy. His letter of 11 October upon the importance of the group was motivated by political rather than strategical reasons. His concern was not with the southwest Pacific; it was with Berlin, Wilhelmshaven and the North Sea.
For Bülow, this naval advice clinched matters. He was a ware that public opinion would resent any withdrawal from Samoa’ and that Wilhelm was determined to have the islands or to call off his visit to England. Nevertheless, Bülow did not immediately accept Chamberlain’s second offer; he desired something else, such as the Gilberts, for withdrawing from the Solomons. He also hoped to separate the African settlement from the Pacific one and to keep it for later. Holstein for his part was most suspicious and believed that the second proposal was ‘an English trap’. With both opinions Hatzfeldt was forced to disagree: Chamberlain was neither planning a trap nor would he make any more concessions although an attempt would be made by Eckardstein for the Gilberts.88
Firmly believing Chamberlain’s view that it would be almost impossible to persuade Salisbury to accept the second scheme, Hatzfeldt also urged that the first one be taken up by Berlin. The colonial secretary had agreed to the delay asked for by the Germans on the twelfth, but he emphasized once again that they should accept his first scheme and even suggested that Hatzfeldt might have to fight out the second one with the prime minister himself. The majority of the Cabinet also only favoured a scheme which involved a German withdrawal from Samoa. Finally, he stressed that he would not concede ‘a comma more’.
The ambassador urged upon Berlin the fact that the British territories offered ‘almost inestimable advantages with which the purely sentimental value of Samoa just cannot be compared at all’. Holstein, too, opposed the views of Tirptiz and the ‘sentimentalists’ and wrote ‘We must protest, however, ever protest and wait.’ He was not very optimistic, though, and thought that they were approaching the verge of a chasm. He and Buchka, the head of the colonial division and someone who could appreciate the comparative value of Chamberlain’s two offers, were probably instrumental in arranging a meeting of the Kolonialrat to discuss the entire question.89 This consultative body of colonial experts and those representing Germany’s overseas commercial interests would surely be able to point out where the country’s real interests lay, and thus to stave off a crisis with the British. It was possibly Holstein, too, who secured an invitation to this conference for Eckardstein. There were still some hopes of defeating the naval agitation, he felt, since Bülow was going to bring in some expert officials from the colonial division of the Auswärtiges Amt to speak in favour of an exchange on the lines of the first proposal.90
In this, however, Holstein was greatly misled—or he was misleading Hatzfeldt, which seems far less likely. Bülow was not the person to oppose the combined wishes of the kaiser, the navy and the colonial pressure groups, and on the fourteenth showed some ‘vehemence’ to Lascelles on the question. The ambassador correctly interpreted this as being
Bülow’s private letter to Tirpitz and the fact that on the twelfth he had a discussion with Woermann, a Hamburg merchant and member of the Kolonialrat who favoured keeping Samoa, all confirm this view.92
This also emerges from the meeting of the Kolonialrat on 16 October, over which Bülow presided. In a long paper, prepared two days earlier by Irmer, he outlined the pros and cons of Chamberlain’s two proposals. The Volta triangle was much more valuable than Samoa and would give life to the ailing Togoland colony, the partition of the Neutral Zone was to be welcomed and the extra-territorial rights in Zanzibar had only two years to run in any case. Savage Island was nothing but the Solomons were the best labour recruiting grounds for the German plantations in the South Seas and, without them, they would have to turn to Chinese labour. Both the southern Solomons and the Gilberts would be desirable possessions. Upolu and Savai’i were not of great importance commercially and German trade was declining there. Tonga had better harbours but British influence predominated in that group. On the other hand, the navy valued Samoa for several reasons, although Apia and Saluafata were not safe harbours. Most important of all, however, it had become an ‘imponderable’ factor in view of its place in the public mind. ‘Under these circumstances’, Bülow had written across Irmer’s draft and also later declared to the conference, ‘I cannot advise His Majesty the Kaiser to withdraw from Samoa...’93
The matter was then taken up by the forty-four other people present, among them being Eckardstein, Buchka, Rose, Sternburg, Irmer and Meyer-Delius (of the D.H.P.G.) Quickly the various factions were revealed. Eckardstein and Seitz, a former governor of Kamerun, urged the acceptance of the ‘extraordinarily advantageous’ first scheme. On the other hand, nationalists and pan-Germans such as Vohsen, Staudinger, Heydt and Tucher argued that the retention of Samoa was vital for prestige and on idealistic grounds, and Bülow also urged that a solution should correspond to the ‘national feelings’. A third group, consisting of Rose, Hansemann, Schmidt-Dargitz and others with experience in Pacific affairs, pointed out that Samoa would be economically useless without the labour-recruiting fields of the Solomons. After several indecisive motions and votings and a small pause, the meeting resumed and eventually accepted a motion declaring that the acquisition of the Volta triangle and Yendi should be accepted provided that Samoa together with the northern Solomons could not be acquired. In other words, Bülow was to try to obtain Samoa and to preserve its economic future; only if this proved impossible would the more valuable first offer be reluctantly taken up. The most noticeable fact emerging from the Kolonialrat conference was that, while almost everyone acknowledged the first proposal to be by far the best materially, few were ready to leave Samoa to secure these advantages. Bülow had more correctly gauged their feelings than Holstein, even though newspaper rumours and Eckardstein’s faulty memoirs distorted the meaning of their vote.94 It was not surprising, therefore, that a Post Office report a day later that the laying of a German cable to Samoa would be physically most dubious and would cost far in excess of its worth did not sway Bülow’s mind.95 For him the group was always regarded as an offering to please the kaiser and public; the economic and territorial considerations involved were of much less importance. Strengthened by the Kolonialrat decision, he could now renew his pressure in London.
On 18 October, Bülow instructed Hatzfeldt and Eckardstein to approach Chamberlain once again. They were to persuade the colonial secretary to relent over the northern Solomons or at least Bougainville in his second set of proposals, offering instead Savage Island and the Zanzibar extraterritoriality, and certain concessions regarding Rhodes’ railway schemes; but warning that if no settlement was reached their navy would set about constructing a harbour at Vavau in accordance with treaty rights. At the same time, and to avoid annoying Chamberlain, Bülow warned the Boers’ representative, Dr Leyds, that he would not be officially received if he came to Berlin.96
Neither Hatzfeldt nor Eckardstein believed that these new proposals would be accepted. Nevertheless, it seemed imperative to do something before the kaiser completely surrendered to the wave of anglophobia and to the influence of his irresponsible military advisers. Although the Baron’s memoirs have to be treated with care, the descriptions of the anglophobic generals, and of Tirpitz’s promise of a more energetic policy against America and Britain when the fleet was larger, do ring true.97 Lascelles, too, found Wilhelm very angry at the Boer War and saying that his visit to Windsor still depended upon the successful outcome of the Samoan talks.98 By 18 October, the kaiser could contain himself no longer and, following the launching of his latest battleship at Hamburg, he made a public call for a bigger navy in his ‘Bitter need we have of a strong German fleet’ speech. Tirpitz had warned Bülow some days earlier that the kaiser must be restrained, but now the cat was out of the bag. Without consulting either the chancellor, the Auswärtiges Amt or Tirpitz, Wilhelm had announced his government’s intention and his ministers must fulfil this demand as fast as they could.99
Why the kaiser made this appeal in such a dramatic way is uncertain. Perhaps, as has been suggested, he had been influenced by the very anti-English Senden, who usually helped him with his speeches.100 Probably also it was one more repercussion of the Samoan dispute. One of the incidents in the spring of 1899 which had greatly excited Wilhelm and German opinion had been the allegedly threatening attitudes of the Anglo-American naval forces to the small cruiser Falke, which due to its size had been forced to swallow these insults. In September the kaiser suddenly ordered the ship, which was making its leisurely way home, to be in Hamburg for the launching if at all possible. On the day of the ceremony, he spent a full hour on board the cruiser, talking with the men and listening to their tales. With his usual impetuousness, he decorated four of them and then swept away the ship’s commander, Schoenfelder, to accompany him at the launching, which immediately followed. It is probable that the memory of the Samoan incidents and Germany’s weakness at sea pushed Wilhelm into his celebrated speech, for he told the Falke’s crew:
Fortunately for Berlin, its bargaining position vis-à-vis Britain was improving considerably in view of the South African War. Furthermore, the British cabinet had occupied itself on the seventeenth with the question of defending the British Isles from a possible continental coalition, and had decided to call up the militia and to commission some reserve warships. While Salisbury was still unruffled by the rumours of a coalition, believing that the most that would happen would be a Russian move towards the Straits, his colleagues would likely be more alarmed.102 This factor, and the German mention of their rights in Tonga, probably accounted for Chamberlain’s amiability when Eckardstein called on 20 October to say that Berlin accepted the second scheme but wished to have at least Bougainville in the northern Solomons and the right to recruit labourers from the other islands in that group which they were giving up. The colonial secretary agreed to this, although he would cede nothing more, and he advised Hatzfeldt to send a written draft of proposals to Salisbury so that the cabinet could discuss them. He, in turn, would consult Australasia upon the matter.103
For Chamberlain, the battle was already over. The mention of German coaling rights in Tonga had worried him enough to ask Anderson for a memorandum on them after his talk with the Baron. But it was now clearly a case of waiting for a formal German approach to Salisbury, who had probably been told by the colonial secretary after the cabinet meeting of the twentieth to expect such a communication. With an arrangement almost in sight, the Colonial Office was beginning to regard it in its fullness; and to like what it saw. Anderson pointed out that as well as the great differences in their harbours, Tonga’s commerce exceeded Samoa’s. The Solomon islands which they would receive contained less trade at present but they were far larger than the Samoan group and to his mind intrinsically more valuable. Britain would also take Savage Island, while the German request to recruit labourers in the northern Solomons was not regarded as important. A few days later, on learning for the first time that no British cession of the Volta triangle was involved, he wrote:
The prospect of withdrawing from Samoa, which the Colonial Office had fought against for over fifteen years, was now greeted, not so much with concern, but with relief at escaping from the entanglement. The deal seemed so favourable that little opposition was expected, even from New Zealand.
If the British were satisfied, the Germans were not. Bülow immediately cabled back to Hatzfeldt that he should attempt to gain Choiseul and Isabel Islands in the northern Solomons. Fearing that German colonial circles, and those members of the Kolonialrat who had advocated a settlement along these lines, would be greatly annoyed if Britain obtained an economic hold over Samoa through her control of the labour supply, he pressed for concessions in this crucial matter. He also hoped to avoid Chamberlain’s proposals regarding a tariff settlement between the Gold Coast and Togoland, and to persuade the British to keep the Zanzibar extraterritoriality question a secret. The talks could still break down, he warned.105 However, Eckardstein found it impossible to weaken the colonial secretary’s position any further. Chamberlain agreed to the German requests concerning West Africa and Zanzibar but at the same time said that Britain should have Savage Island in view of Australasian opinion. Most important of all, he refused to retreat from his claim to Choiseul and Isabel.106
This news caused consternation in Berlin. While it is difficult to believe Holstein’s note to Eckardstein that the German government would not last long if the Samoan negotiations broke down,107 Bülow was clearly in a very serious position. Europe was looking towards Germany for some gesture in favour of a continental alliance and the Russian press was making meaningful hints about the silence at the Wilhelmstrasse. Throughout the country, a fierce outburst of anglophobia was severely worrying the government, and Herbert Bismarck and many of Büllow’s enemies were campaigning for an anti-British policy. Holstein fearfully reported that the English journey was under strong attack and that even the kaiser was taking notice of this. Chamberlain had to make these small concessions, or the scheme had at least to be dressed up to look better. Hatzfeldt for his part felt that the failure of the talks and the visit would divide the two countries permanently and tempt the British to reject the Portuguese colonies settlement. The only power which could profit from this would be Russia, a prospect both Holstein and Hatzfeldt acutely disliked.108
Bülow was possibly even more worried. What Wilhelm would say or do if the Samoan arrangement and the Windsor visit fell through, he hardly dared to guess. On the other hand, if the anti-British press campaign became any stronger, they would have to bend. He would not risk the popularity of the monarchy, nor his own position, by defying the public. Hatzfeldt was privately informed that the visit would depend, not upon the settlement of Samoa itself, but solely upon its favourable reception by the German people. Everything hung upon a treaty which revealed as many apparent points in Germany’s favour as possible. It was imperative, he wrote, to obtain at least the Shortland and Fauro groups, minute and obscure islands lying just off Bougainville. For the same reason, Hatzfeldt should try once again to secure Choiseul, offering in exchange Savage Island and also Manua Island in the Samoan group, provided that the latter was not claimed by the Americans. The most welcome development of all would be a temporary British defeat in South Africa, which would hurry Chamberlain into an agreement; if this did occur, it might be possible to extort more from London.109
In vain Eckardstein attempted to seek out Chamberlain and to persuade him to give more, but the colonial secretary would not even see him and merely sent a note, testily declaring that there would be no more concessions in the Solomons. He seems, in fact, to have been annoyed with these constant pleadings, particularly when he had already assured Salisbury that Hatzfeldt would be getting in touch with him. After waiting for a few days, the prime minister directed his secretary to sound out the German embassy on 25 October as to whether any proposals were contemplated, and Hatzfeldt was again forced to answer that he was too ill to come. On the following day, Salisbury tried once more and Hatzfeldt reported that he could not be held off much longer. On hearing this, Bülow felt that further delay would be dangerous and he instructed the ambassador to get in touch with Salisbury. With eyes still fixed upon public opinion, however, he directed that the treaty should contain the words that Germany would keep ‘the islands lying to the east and south-east of Bougainville’ even though this would not be so; and that she should only give up her rights in Zanzibar when other powers did the same.110
On 27 October, therefore, Hatzfeldt addressed a letter to Salisbury, enclosing a seven-point draft of a treaty and carefully explaining the need to use the phraseology therein. At the same time, Eckardstein met Chamberlain and gave him similar details. He found the colonial secretary more self-assured than ever and demanding the formal cession of Savage Island, which was missing from the draft.111 This was quickly agreed to, but Bülow was appalled to learn that the cabinet ministers were preparing to leave town for a while after their further meetings on the state of the war and he peremptorily minuted: ‘All that matters is that we now quickly settle things. The ministers must without fail be immediately recalled for the decision.’ The news that they had already left London and that a cabinet could not be called until 1 November therefore greatly pained him, and he wondered whether their consent could not be secured in writing or whether even this was needed at all. Poor Hatzfeldt was requested to enquire urgently about this but at the same time not to reveal that Berlin was in any kind of hurry! He was also repeatedly warned that the whole Samoan question was to be kept ‘absolutely secret’ lest the anti-British circles in Germany attempt to shipwreck the settlement;112 yet this was only a short while after he had been instructed to lobby every person who could possibly influence Salisbury in the matter. It was hardly surprising that the ailing ambassador was confessing privately to Holstein that he was in urgent need of a rest from this demanding work.
All seemed to depend upon whether Salisbury or Chamberlain controlled the Cabinet, therefore, and in this respect Berlin was reasonably hopeful. The colonial secretary and Rothschild assured Eckardstein that the majority of its members were in favour of a swift settlement with Germany, and that all would be well. If Bülow and Holstein were more nervous, it was due to their deeper suspicion of the prime minister and to the fact that they regarded the question in a much more serious light. Nevertheless, they were reconciled to the terms stipulated, albeit reluctantly. Bülow informed Holstein that
The prospects seemed good, for on the day of the Cabinet meeting Hatzfeldt had an interview with Salisbury, during which the latter appeared to accept the settlement on the whole although there were ‘small editorial modifications’ to be made in the final draft and he declined to sign the seven-point scheme immediately. As he was later completing this despatch, the ambassador learnt that the Cabinet had unanimously accepted the proposed settlement and that all that was required by Chamberlain was a closer definition of the Neutral Zone partition line so as to avoid future difficulties. Hatzfeldt therefore proposed to send Salisbury a draft convention for his comment and signature on the following day. The end seemed at last in sight.
This picture is confirmed by a reading of the Grosse Politik section on Samoa, for this is the final document therein and the editors give details of the final treaty in a footnote, remarking that ‘The remaining negotiations dragged on for a while, without having great importance.’114 Nothing, in fact, could have been further from the truth, and while little concerning Samoa itself was lost by this omission, the crisis in Berlin and important sidelights upon the ‘Free Hand’ policy, the influencing of the press, and Bülow’s attitude to Britain and Russia have been hidden.
The crisis was caused partly by the steadily rising anglophobia in Germany, and partly by Bülow himself. As to the formidable nature of the first factor, there can be little doubt: sufficient analyses of public opinion at this time confirm the depth of the bitterness against the British actions in the Transvaal, exceptions being those newspapers which followed the government line.115 This trend frightened Bülow for two reasons. Firstly, that the British would notice it and come to regard Germany as a hostile nation; and secondly, that it would become so strong as to force the German government to abandon its neutral stance. At the news of the Ladysmith disaster, therefore, Bülow sent out special directives to the press.
Furthermore, Berlin appears to have been very worried at Russian attempts to cause the British to note the anglophobia in Germany. On 25 October, Wilhelm himself wrote to Lascelles, then in England, warning him that a ‘swarm of Russian agents’ was being sent from Paris and St Petersburg to London to foment bad feeling against Germany and to foil his visit.
Only a few days later he took further alarm when he learnt that the Russian Telegraph Agency was seeking information for its Foreign Ministry about German opinion towards Britain, and he angrily ordered ‘Double watchfulness in the press and every insolent article against England to be immediately cut off at the head...’118
Probably the strength of the anglophobia and the influence of the Russian newspaper intrigue were exaggerated by Wilhelm and Bülow, both of whom were extraordinarily sensitive to press criticisms of their policy, yet these factors help to explain their extreme worries of the few days following. The news that Upolu and Savai’i would fall to Germany would, it was hoped, take much of the wind out of the sails of the government’s critics; it would silence the Russian efforts, and at the same time revive Chamberlain’s hopes; it would allow the kaiser to go to England; and finally, it would enable Bülow to maintain his foreign policy.
The latter injected a further note of urgency into the affair by his insistence that the Samoan question must be settled before the Czar called upon Wilhelm at Potsdam on 8 November. The positive reason for this is clear: he wished to bring off a great coup for his ‘Free Hand’ policy by demonstrating to the world that he could arrange a wide-ranging colonial treaty with Britain at the same time as he entertained the Russian leader. The negative reason, which was explained by Holstein in a telegram to Hatzfeldt on 2 November, was that Bülow had been informed that Muraviev would accompany the Czar and would raise the question of a special Russo-German treaty, probably over the Straits but perhaps over a more general entente. While Berlin wished to avoid this if at all possible, because it might restrict their Bagdad Railway schemes and alienate Britain and Austria-Hungary, they could not contemplate a definite rebuff to the Russians unless their relations with London were apparently friendly and normal.
Hence Bülow’s instructions to Hatzfeldt that they must know their position on Samoa before the following Tuesday (7 November) and hence Holstein’s telegram that the Russian visit would be as fruitless as usual if the Samoan affair was settled but quite different if the negotiations in London broke down.119 The cancellation of the Windsor trip and the consequent bitterness in Britain, the impossibility of cooling the anglophobia and internal criticism should a Samoan treaty fall through, the Russian pressure for an agreement, all three factors disturbed the men of the Wilhelmstrasse. Only a quick and successful settlement of the Samoan problem could stave off these converging threats. Instead of merely being the elimination of a distant squabble, therefore, it had become a matter upon which, so they believed, their entire existing policy depended.
Thus Salisbury’s small modifications and his refusal to sign the seven-point agreement provisionally were not greeted with the calmness the editors of the Grosse Politik would have us believe. ‘What significance has that? How would it be received in our colonial circles?’ Bülow scribbled anxiously alongside the section concerning the altered boundary in the Neutral Zone. ‘How would that work out for us commercially?’, he wrote against Salisbury’s proposals on future most-favoured-nation rights for all three powers in the Samoan and Tongan groups. Moreover, while he shared the prime minister’s wish that the United States should participate fully in the treaty, he ordered that this should not ‘under any circumstances’ delay its conclusion. Chamberlain, Rothschild, and ‘whoever else has influence’ should be used to prevent Salisbury from stalling. The affair had to be finalized immediately.120
Holstein elaborated this in his instructions of 2 November. Berlin could not understand the boundary proposals in the Neutral Zone but was so eager for an agreement that an ‘elastic formula’, which could be worked out in more detail by experts afterwards, was to be put forward. It being clear that ‘we have absolutely nothing to expect from Salisbury’s goodwill’, Chamberlain must be pushed forward to fight the prime minister’s delaying tactics. Particularly worrying was Salisbury’s reference to careful consultations with America, for that might delay matters some weeks. Fearing that the prime minister meant to use this as an excuse for further procrastination, Berlin hoped to circumvent him by appealing to Hay directly, by asking Balfour and Chamberlain to exercise their influence at Washington, and by persuading the American ambassador in London, Choate, to help also. Mumm was instructed to tell the State Department that Germany attached ‘extraordinarily great’ value to a swift understanding.121
By the following day, matters were even worse. Hatzfeldt reported that Choate and Salisbury had agreed that the United States must fully participate in the settlement, but added that the American ambassador thought Tutuila might not be considered as a sufficient compensation (Bülow: ‘!’) when it was learnt that Germany was to have the two large islands in the Samoan group. It would be difficult to say, Choate had declared, how long the president would need to examine the proposed treaty. (Bülow: ‘!’) These statements caused consternation in Berlin, where it was naturally assumed that Salisbury had encouraged these new demands. ‘The Kaiser’s visit will be in the grave’, Holstein feared, describing Choate’s speech as ‘Napoleonic’ and seeing in it ‘a real danger’. Chamberlain must be told that his whole policy of working with Germany would be defeated if this American aspect was not quickly cleared up. Bülow was even more explicit, minuting:
Without Samoa, he added, ‘internal political’ reasons would dictate a cancellation of the Windsor trip. As for Wilhelm, he reacted to a friendly letter from Lascelles, which expressed the hope that the English visit would lead to better relations between the two countries, by curtly minuting: ‘And Samoa?’123
The relief in Berlin on the following day when it was learnt that Hay was ready to agree to the Anglo-German arrangement provided that America received Manua and the smaller islands near Tutuila was therefore immense. The great fear had been that Washington would ask for one of the Caroline or Marshall islands and this, Bülow felt, could ‘under no circumstances’ be acceded to. Nevertheless, Salisbury’s irritating small points still threatened the whole course of the talks. ‘The difficulty lies not in these matters’, Holstein cabled,’ but in the time-factor.’ With only four days to go before the Czar’s visit, Büllow was becoming really worried: ‘Tuesday is the very latest time when we should round the corner and not take up a different course’. Most infuriating of all was the fact that the sense of urgency was missing on the other side and nearly all the ministers, Salisbury and Chamberlain included, were in the country. Perhaps Eckardstein could be sent to Birmingham to press the matter upon the colonial secretary, Holstein pleaded. Bülow felt the same way: ‘All details are irrelevant but it is of the highest importance to sign provisionally on Monday. Can this not be arranged via Chamberlain or by a letter to Salisbury? We endure the matter no longer.’124
On 5 November, their irritation against the prime minister reached its peak. He had written from Hatfield on the previous day that there were still some modifications required in the text which had been submitted by Hatzfeldt before he could sign the agreement. He mentioned again the dividing line in the Neutral Zone and also felt that the consuls of both countries should not be permanently abolished in Samoa and Tonga. The latter request infuriated Irmer, who foresaw the return of consular friction and a British meddling in the conditions of the labourers on the D.H.P.G. plantations. The kaiser viewed things in a broader light. On 6 November, he burst out to Grierson against the ‘two-headed’ government in London, and threatened the cancellation of his visit. Salisbury’s procrastinations were intolerable and had placed the German government in great difficulties. Wilhelm concluded by warning: ‘I cannot go sitting on a safety-valve for ever. Does England not want my friendship, about the only one left her on the Continent? Some day when she is in trouble she will find that German patience has been tried too long.125
Despite the bitterness felt against Salisbury, however, the Germans dared not openly lose their temper. In fact, the Wilhelmstrasse was now so scared that matters would not be arranged before their self-appointed deadline that they were willing to agree to every little point which the prime minister raised. Hatzfeldt was franctically urging Sanderson and Lascelles to take messages out to Hatfield, and Eckardstein was told to be ready to travel to Birmingham. A compromise was proposed regarding the retention of consuls (no more political activities, only trade and navigation), and Berlin agreed to the Colonial Office’s wishes over the West African boundary. It was to be made plain to London that they did not really care about the niggling British worries. What mattered, as Hatzfeldt put it, was to get an agreement before Tuesday ‘in any form at all’. Yet even if these points were settled, a further danger loomed; Salisbury was still waiting for word from Australasia.126
Berlin was by then reckoning the hours to the breakdown. ‘I think we are now on the brink’ were the opening words of Holstein’s telegram to Hatzfeldt on 6 November. The ambassador for his part confessed himself to be ‘exhausted’ at the strain.
Hatzfeldt once again urged that they work until the very last moment to avoid a break, for the cancellation of the kaiser’s visit would cause ‘a tremendous sensation’ and would serve ‘as a direct notice of the ending of our friendly relations’.
On the afternoon of the sixth, however, affairs rapidly changed for the better. Sanderson and Lascelles co-operated fully with Hatzfeldt in drafting and re-drafting a treaty which would suit both Bülow and Salisbury. Sanderson himself travelled out at once to Hatfield and a special courier was sent there later to obtain the prime minister’s views. It was also decided to wait no longer for an answer from the Australasians. On the following day, Salisbury himself came to London and discussed the final draft with Hatzfeldt, but still had four minor technical alterations regarding the American position, the West African boundary line, free trade and navigation in the Pacific, and the inclusion of the small Howe Island within the British sphere. He then initialled the draft under the proviso that his amendments in red ink were accepted by the German government. ‘Failing that, acceptance by Her Majesty’s Government was to be considered as of no effect.’ Finding his protests against this disregarded, Hatzfeldt appealed for instructions.128
But Bülow was in no spirit for further wranglings. Early on 8 November, a few hours before he was due to meet the Czar at Potsdam, he instructed the ambassador to tell Salisbury that they agreed to his latest stipulations. He did not understand the British requests over Howe Island and the West African boundary, nor, for that matter, did he care. At this stage, Hatzfeldt was disputing with Sanderson the correct interpretation of Germany’s previous rights to recruit labourers in the Solomons. This, as mentioned above, was most important to the future of the German plantations in Samoa: yet Bülow ignored it. At the same time as his telegram to Hatzfeldt, the news of the agreement was published in Berlin. By the narrowest of margins, he had achieved his aim of a Samoan settlement before the Czar’s visit.129
Hatzfeldt was not aware of this and, although he gave the German government’s assent to Salisbury’s stipulations, was still arguing that morning about the labour recruitment question and warning that it was a matter ‘much less of Samoa than a political question of the highest importance’. He also allowed himself to explain openly that the treaty was needed urgently to strengthen Bülow’s hand against attacks upon his pro-British policy; to assist the kaiser, who faced formidable opposition to his English journey; and to neutralize the Russian efforts, which could be seen in the Czar’s visit. Salisbury, reported Hatzfeldt, understood all that had been said but still asked whether Berlin would accept his conditions. Even to the last, he seemed reluctant to help. But the ambassador need not have worried. His news that he had handed over Berlin’s consent was answered with the kaiser’s award of ‘the Diamonds to my high Order of the Black Eagle’ and Bülow’s fervent congratulations.130
One of the ambassador’s last telegrams on that hectic day was to report the Foreign Office’s ‘amazement’ that the treaty, which was supposedly to be kept secret for a while, had been given out to the press in Berlin.131 While this had chiefly been done to demonstrate to Muraviev that Germany could maintain good relations with Britain, there was also a second reason. On 2 November, Bülow had minuted that the publication of the treaty should not be given out first in either Britain or the United States, and he had therefore taken alarm when he later learnt that Salisbury was planning to announce the settlement at the lord mayor’s banquet on 9 November: ‘We must certainly have it settled before then. We dare not leave it to Lord Salisbury to announce the agreement first and in his own manner urbi et orbi as a success for the English government.’132 The Samoan settlement had to be presented as an achievement for German diplomacy, and Bülow greatly feared that a deprecating after-dinner speech by the prime minister would hurt the pride of the colonial circles and perhaps prejudice their acceptance of the deal. Salisbury would obviously point out the advantages Britain had gained from it; it was Bülow’s aim to forestall this by stressing the advantages to Germany in a prior announcement. His later excuse that publication had ‘much to their regret’ been necessary, since details were leaking to the press and diplomatic circles, was therefore a blatant travesty of the truth.133
The ‘Free Hand’ had been saved, and even enhanced, by this last-minute settlement of the Samoan question. The host of congratulatory messages showered upon Bülow served only to convince him of the correctness of his policy. The Czar, too, politely commented upon the treaty during his talks and declared that he wished for good relations with Germany. All the same, both he and Muraviev gently reminded Berlin of the Russian concern over German plans for Turkey and the Near East, and suggested that these be submitted first to St Petersburg to avoid future controversies; but a direct answer to this was carefully concealed by Bülow in a cloud of fervent wishes for good mutual relations. In fact, no mention was made of a treaty over the Straits, nor of better Franco-German relations, although a firm answer had been prepared by Holstein should these points have been raised.
Since this was at present impossible, Holstein continued, the Russians would be unable to say anything and Germany’s relations with Britain, Austria-Hungary and Italy would thereby be unimpaired. Berlin would remain in the middle, enjoying her position as tertius gaudens.
On 14 November, Hatzfeldt and Salisbury signed the formal agreement, under which Britain renounced her rights in Savai’i and Upolu while Germany renounced hers in the Tongan group.135 Germany also withdrew from those Solomon islands to the east and south-east of Bougainville—although, in fact, the British allowed them to keep the very small islands immediately offshore. The respective consuls in Samoa and Tonga were only provisionally recalled, and the existing arrangements for German labour-recruiting in the southern Solomons were extended to those islands newly acquired by Britain. Both these clauses were rather vague, and were to lead to further disputes in the future. The Neutral Zone boundary was specified to be the river Daka up to 9°N and it would then be fixed by a mixed commission to continue northwards, allowing Gambaga and the Mamprusi territories to fall to Britain while Yendi and the Chakosi territories fell to Germany.136 Berlin promised to consider favourably British requests concerning reciprocal tariffs between Togoland and the Gold Coast, although it was privately determined to restrict this development as far as possible. Finally, while it renounced its extraterritorial rights in Zanzibar, this renunciation would only take place when other powers’ rights there were also abolished. The Anglo-German tussle over Samoa and smaller colonial matters had at last been settled, in a tidy package deal which seemed to satisfy both sides; and the end of the tridominium was only weeks away.