THE declaration of war on August 4, 1914, came in the middle of the summer holidays and, living in a city with an international textile-trading tradition, residents of Bradford were not averse to holidaying in Europe. Relatives here were urged to telegraph them immediately to make contact with their nearest British Consul. But, as Tricia Platts, secretary of Bradford’s World War 1 Group discovered, return journeys were soon to prove hazardous.

She writes: “James Vaughan, a teacher at Belle Vue School, was on his honeymoon in Brussels. He recounted to the Bradford Daily Telegraph how, with a small party of others, ‘we huddled together on the station platform as a wild scramble as people seized their luggage and darted hither and thither.’ They left Brussels at 9am and it seems to have taken most of the day to reach Ostend. Mr Vaughan seemed surprised that people were still working in the fields despite intense military activity all around.

Those guarding bridges and other strategic points were “just average peasants only to be distinguished by a red, yellow and black armband”. Bradford had close links with Roubaix, the centre of the French wool trade which was known as the town of a thousand chimneys. Many Bradfordians found themselves stranded there when war began. Two ladies wrote from Roubaix: “One does not know what to do for the best. To be at the mercy of the Germans is no little matter: they are such brutes and savages. A lot of English wounded were being brought to Lille yesterday.”

About 18 months before the war, George Andrews had left Bradford Grammar School and, in August 1914, he was improving his French and German by teaching in a school at Witten – not far from Dortmund. He wrote a reassuring letter to his father, obviously feeling happy and confident about his position. His landlady, Frau Gerharz was looking after him very well and he was being treated “without the least difficulty” by the police – as were all the other Englishmen.

George wrote too soon: within days he found himself interned at Ruhleben along with 5,500 other men. The camp, established on the old race course in Berlin, was to become a sophisticated community with almost an entire orchestra of British musicians who had been touring Germany, a few dozen jockeys and many other teachers who found themselves in similar circumstances to George Andrews. George returned to Bradford in 1919, married a local girl and lived out his life in Bingley. His younger son was the organist at Bingley Parish Church for many years.

In a similar position was 16-year-old Teddy Fleming, a Bradford schoolboy on a two-month stay in Ghent to improve his languages. He managed to find room on a packed boat to Folkestone. He seemed to enjoy spotting warships and submarines in the Channel but also spoke about the Belgians’ hatred for the Germans. Teddy Fleming served with the Royal Garrison Artillery in Salonika in 1918 and afterwards had a career in the Civil Service in Malaya.

On Sunday, August 2, 1914, Pastor Nobbe at the German Church on Little Horton Lane described the sun of peace vanishing and a black cloud of war hanging over his congregation, many of whom were in tears as ‘Ein feste burg’ was sung. Within days the church was closed and a party of 30 young men had left Midland Station to join the German Army. Among these returners was Pastor Nobbe. The Bradford Daily Telegraph reminded its readers: “Amongst them were the friends of many of us and more touching still were the wives and sweethearts, weeping sadly at this cruel parting.”

A few more Germans, 20 Austrians, a few French and two Belgian refugee conscripts also departed. “Their friends here are their friends still in every private and personal significance,” claimed the editor. The paper also described the sudden shortage of hotel chefs and waiters, and the French barber’s shop in Morley Street closed down hurriedly as the man rushed home to France.

Bradford had no fewer than 12 consuls looking after the interests of residents of other nationalities (America, Austro-Hungary, Brazil, Denmark, France, the German Empire, Netherlands, Norway, Persia, Russia, Spain and Sweden). The Consul for the German Empire, Victor Edelstein, handed the interests of remaining Germans to the American Consul, Mr Augustus E. Ingram in Swan Arcade. In June 1915 Victor Edelstein changed his name to Elston and his son, Adolphus Julius, served as a Staff Major in the British Army under his new name of A J Elston. He was mentioned in dispatches in 1917.

A European war presented challenging dilemmas for businesses as well as families. “All trade with Germany is at an end,” declared the Bradford Daily Telegraph but also expressed the hope that the city would pick up new business from foreign lands which no longer traded with Germany. The cruelest irony of all is that Bradford trade was so closely allied to Bradford’s German community, as any examination of local trade directories will demonstrate.”