MOST tramped through the streets in long columns, some rode on horses, some on bikes, some in motor wagons, and some came by train.

The streets of Southampton echoed to songs like Hello! Hello! Who’s Your Lady Friend?

Sometimes a sergeant strode out in front of his men, playing a mouth organ. Sometimes there’d be a Scottish piper wailing his way down the High Street.

It all started 100 years ago this month – August 1914, the beginning of the most terrible war the world had ever known.

Southampton, as the main embarkation port for the Allied armies, was the springboard.

“Our streets are thronged with soldiers,” reported local weekly paper The Hampshire Independent.

“Huge motor wagons and trolleys laden with military stores are rushing every minute through our streets, and returning empty to come back again fully laden, and there are a thousand and one other indications for the dispatch of the Expeditionary Force...

“We have, of course, to observe reticence in the matter of local preparations, for the enemy is shrewd and spies are said to be all around us.”

Two German “teachers” were arrested in the town, as it was then, on suspicion of spying. They were found with maps and photographic material.

At Millbrook, shots were fired when a sentry disturbed someone trying to tap telephone wires.

Fifty-three German citizens who embarked on the White Star liner Oceanic at New York before war was declared were arrested on arrival in Southampton, and a special train took them to Winchester Prison.

First news of the war was given to an excited crowd in Above Bar by a member of the Independent’s staff.

“A mighty cheer was raised and the multitude lustily sang the national anthem, followed by the frenzied strains of ‘The Marsellaise’.” News was posted outside the office the moment it came through.

The paper itself gave the news with an enormous headline on an inside page: “War! The Continent Ablaze!

German’s emperor’s perfidy and aggression. Solemn treaties violated and Great Britain defied. England declares war on Germany. Navy and Army mobilized. Expeditionary force preparing. Half a million Britishers wanted. Lord Kitchener War Secretary.”

There were some good local angles on the story. Admiral Jellicoe, supreme commander of the Home Fleets, had been born in Southampton. And in one of the very first naval engagements, a brand-new Woolston-built destroyer, Lance, which had been handed over to the Navy only a few days earlier, sank a German minelayer.

Rumours spread like wildfire. On the Isle of Wight a gardener was charged with spreading a false report that the water supply had been poisoned.

A Union-Castle liner from Cape Town steamed through Spithead at night, unaware that there was a war on and that the Navy had laid a minefield across the approaches to Southampton. Fortunately she was stopped by British warships and escorted through.

The Hampshire Independent sternly urged its young readers to “stop playing around and help their elders” with the harvest.

The Bishop of Southampton said in a sermon: “I believe that victory will be given on the side of those nations which are of the most moral value in the world.”

Cowes Week was cancelled, as was Eling and Totton Regatta. A German yachtsman abandoned his schooner at Southampton and fled home before war was declared.

But some people were able to remain blissfully oblivious to the approaching conflict. Holy Trinity Mission took 135 pensioners on an outing. “Someone said it rained,”

it was reported.

“But nothing could damp the pleasure of our dear old folk.”