War officially began between France and Germany upon August 3rd at 6.45 p.m. when the German Ambassador in Paris asked for his passports, and between Great Britain and Germany upon August 4th at 11 p.m., when our ultimatum in regard to Belgium was definitely rejected. But though then at war with Germany, England did not declare war on Austria until midnight of August 12th. A queer situation arose in the Mediterranean as the result of these gaps between the dates of active hostilities. Upon August 4th, the German cruisers could and did attack French territory without being attacked by us, and all through those fateful days of August 5th and 6th, when our three battle cruisers were hovering between Messina and the Adriatic and our four armoured cruisers were lying a little to the south off Syracuse, Italy was neutral, and Austria was not at war with us. Our naval commanders were in the highest degree anxious to do nothing which could in any way offend Italy—whose position as still a member of the Triple Alliance with Austria and Germany was delicate in the extreme—and were also anxious to commit no act of hostility towards Austria. Upon August 4th, therefore, their hands were tied tight; upon the 5th and 6th they were untied as against the German cruisers, but could not stretch into either Italian or Austrian waters. The German Admiral took full advantage of the freedom of movement allowed to him by our diplomatic bonds. Let us now come to the story of the escape of the two German cruisers, indicate as clearly as may be how it occurred, and suggest how the worst consequences of that escape might have been retrieved by instant and spirited action on the part of our Government at home. Naval responsibility, as distinct from political responsibility, ended with the escape of the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_ and their entry into the Dardanelles on the way up to Constantinople which then, and for nearly three months afterwards, was nominally a neutral port.