Moonlight

by Fergus O'Connell

  So at this stage, dear and maybe slightly perplexed reader, we can probably summarise the Group of Death like this. Austria wants to play a quick match against the Serbs and give them a jolly good hiding. The Austrians are only in the game because the Germans are backing them.

  The Germans believe the Austria-Serbia war can be localised and will be over and done with before any of the rest of the big guns gets involved. Anyway, Russia isn’t ready for a war – or so the Germans believe – the British aren’t prepared to fight and the French – well, Poincaré is still at sea.

  And Sir Edward Grey believes the Germans really don’t want war and are clear that Britain would fight if it came to it. He could hardly be more wrong on both counts.

  Far away from all this, Clara is missing James. She has become tired of goading Henry and now just wants it to be Thursday. Up to the morning she received the letter, Clara had envisioned the rest of her life as being a weary journey down to death, accompanied by Henry. Now all that has changed. She sees the chance of something new and bright and beautiful – like a rainbow glimpsed in the distance. Where she stands there are still purple, angry clouds and it is raining. But she now sees a little bit of brightness, a glimpse of sunlight, a ray of hope.

  In her Atkinson Grimshaw fantasy, James has now become the man in the room. Those nights that Clara used to lie awake worrying, she now spends imagining what it would be like to be with him. And not just in that fantasy, but in real life. But she stays focussed on life with him, trying not to think about the terrible journey she will have to make before that can ever come about.

  Clara has another night of broken sleep. She goes to bed about 11:30, sleeps soundly until three and then is wide awake after that until she hears the girls. (Today she lets Henry get up first and get his own breakfast.) ‘It’s such a long time until Thursday,’ she writes later in her diary.

  Chapter 40

  Tuesday 28 July 1914

  Der Kaiser rises early in the New Palace at Potsdam. He goes out riding in the park. He has at last read the Serbian reply to Austria and he is in a good mood. The note is a complete capitulation. Vienna has brought off a great victory. ‘All reason for war is gone,’ says Der Kaiser. He has written as much in the margin of the document containing the news. ‘Every reason for war drops away. Giesl might have remained quietly in Belgrade.’

  Der Kaiser notes that the Serbs have made ‘a capitulation of the most humiliating kind. The few reservations which Serbia made with respect to certain points can in my opinion surely be cleared up by negotiation.’ Der Kaiser says that ‘the Serbs are Orientals, therefore liars, tricksters and masters of evasion,’ and that therefore a temporary Austrian occupation of Belgrade is required until Serbia keeps its word.

  Proving that he might not be barking mad at all, Der Kaiser sits down at his desk and drafts a proposal for a temporary Austrian occupation of Belgrade. Der Kaiser sees that it is the Austrian Army that feels most sensitive about the murder of the Archduke. After all, he was their commander-in-chief and their honour had been sullied by his murder. Der Kaiser feels that his ‘Halt in Belgrade’ idea will go a long way towards soothing their feelings.

  The German Chancellor, military and diplomatic services are all appalled and angered at Der Kaiser’s sudden change of mind. Accordingly, they do what all good civil servants would do under the circumstances. They sabotage his proposal.

  The Chancellor sends the German Ambassador in Vienna a message that reads, ‘You must most carefully avoid giving any impression that we want to hold Austria back. We are concerned only to find a modus to enable the realisation of Austria-Hungary’s aim without at the same time unleashing a world war, and should this after all prove unavoidable, to improve as far as possible the conditions under which it is to be waged.’

  In passing on Der Kaiser’s message, the Chancellor excludes the parts wherein the Emperor told the Austrians not to go to war. The German Foreign Minister tells his diplomats to disregard Der Kaiser’s peace offer and to continue to press for war. General Falkenhayn, the German Minister for War tells Der Kaiser that he no longer has control of the affair in his own hands. Falkenhayn implies that the military might even stage a coup if Der Kaiser continued to work for peace.

  Also that morning, the German Ambassador in London forwards yet another British offer of mediation, this time from both King George V and Sir Edward Grey. Later that day the Ambassador tells his people in Berlin that nobody in Britain believes in the possibility of localising the war and he warns them against their believing it.

  This time, when the British Ambassador in Berlin presents the mediation proposal to the Germans, it is totally rejected.

  Austrian troops begin to concentrate in Bosnia as a preparatory step towards invading Serbia. Meanwhile in Vienna, the Austrians have run into a problem. They no longer have an ambassador in Belgrade. How then are they to declare war? Trust the postal service? Probably never a good idea. Send a messenger? Yes, but wouldn’t he have to go under a flag of truce for his own protection? And how could you have a flag of truce when you don’t yet have a war? These diplomatic difficulties!

  Finally, they find a solution. A telegram is sent via Bucharest in Romania to Belgrade. It reads:

  The Royal Serbian Government not having answered in a satisfactory manner the note of July 10–23, 1914, presented by the Austro-Hungarian Minister at Belgrade, the Imperial and Royal Government are thus pledged to see to the safeguarding of their rights and interests and, with this object, to have recourse to force of arms. Austro-Hungary consequently considers herself henceforward in a state of war with Serbia.

  And so, at 11 a.m., Austria is at war with Serbia. An hour later – deliberately so – the German Ambassador presents Der Kaiser’s ‘Halt in Belgrade’ proposal to the Austrians. Later that day, Austrian heavy warships begin to bombard Belgrade.

  Der Kaiser sends a telegram to his cousin the Tsar asking for Russian support for the Austrian war against Serbia.

  The Tsar replies to Der Kaiser’s message: ‘Am glad you are back … I appeal to you to help me. An ignoble war has been declared on a weak country … Soon I shall be overwhelmed by pressure brought upon me … to take extreme measures which will lead to war. To try and avoid such a calamity as a European war, I beg you in the name of our old friendship to do what you can to stop your allies from going too far.’

  Der Kaiser’s brother, Henry, arrives at Kiel after his sojourn in England. He writes a letter to his brother.

  ‘I had a short talk with Georgie, who said, “We shall try to keep out of this and shall remain neutral”.’

  In Berlin, the Social Democratic Party (SDP) denounces Austria for declaring war on Serbia. It orders street demonstrations in protest against Germany’s actions in supporting Austria. However, privately the SDP leaders tell the Chancellor that they would support the government if Germany was faced with a Russian attack.

  In St Petersburg, the Tsar signs two orders of mobilisation. One is for general mobilisation. The other is for mobilisation confined to the four military districts opposite the Austrian frontier – Moscow, Kiev, Odessa and Kazan. Both documents are given to General Janushkevitch, the pornographer, anti-Semite and Chief of Staff.

  Later that evening, Grey goes to a musical party at Pamela Glenconnor’s. There, Mr Campbell McInnes sings pieces by Handel and notes the ‘ashen misery’ in Grey’s face. Funny how that ‘grey’ thing keeps recurring, isn’t it?

  All leave is stopped in the British destroyer flotillas.

  It is learned that since Saturday, no Orient Express has travelled beyond Budapest.

  In Vienna, there are jubilant demonstrations in support of war with Serbia in front of the War Ministry. The streets are full of flags, ribbons, bands, processions and proud young soldiers in their new blue-grey uniforms. Food prices rise sharply but the only people who notice are the housewives out doing the day’s shopping.

  General von Falkenhayn orders German troops on manoeuvres to return
to barracks.

  Clara goes to bed with a headache. She has had quite a few headaches the last few days. She knows what it is. Yes, she feels huge anticipation about meeting James again. And now she so much wants things to go a certain way with him. She also has a terrible fear that things will go that way – because then she will be lost to her old life and committed to her new. And that prospect terrifies her.

  She wakes at one and doesn’t go back to sleep. It is during this time that she decides she cannot wait until Thursday. She will go to the park tomorrow and surprise James.

  Chapter 41

  Wednesday 29 July 1914

  In case you’d been wondering where he was – because we hadn’t heard from him in a while – President Poincaré has arrived back in France from Russia. The France docks at Dunkirk and his train speeds towards the Gare du Nord in Paris. The weather is warmer than it was when he left and seems to promise a summer that will be late but wonderful. On the train he has his first real chance to study the official reports. The situation is more serious than he thought.

  His train pulls into the station at twenty past one. It seems that all Paris has turned out to greet him. Gorgeous tricolours are everywhere. The station is crammed with people and as Poincaré steps from the train, looking pale and tense, cries of ‘Vive la France’ and ‘Vive Poincaré’ go up. There is no mistaking the message – his people are ready for a war.

  Once he gets to the Elysée, Poincaré doesn’t waste any time. He convenes a meeting of the Council of Ministers. He has a simple question for them. Should Russia be promised French military support if she mobilises and war then ensues?

  By six o’clock, assuming they will get the support of England, the ministers have answered yes.

  In St Petersburg, events are moving swiftly like a train that has lost its driver. The German Ambassador has told the Russian Foreign Minister that if Russia goes on with its military preparations, Germany will have to mobilise in response. Not long afterwards the Prime Minister is talking to the Austrian Ambassador. The Prime Minister explains that Russia is engaging in a partial mobilisation but that it is only a precautionary measure.

  Then the telephone rings on the Prime Minister’s desk. The news is not good. Austrian ships on the Danube have fired shells into Belgrade.

  In London, the Cabinet is still no closer to deciding whether to remain neutral or to become involved if France is attacked. It approves what is essentially another twenty-four hours’ stalling to wait and see what happens. Meanwhile, the rest of Europe is hurtling down the helter skelter to war.

  Der Kaiser receives his brother’s letter from Kiel, with its news that ‘Georgie’ had told him Britain would stay neutral in the event of a European war. Here is something that goes way beyond the shabby dealings of politicians.

  ‘I have the word of a king,’ says Der Kaiser. ‘That is sufficient for me.’

  After lunch, Sir Edward Grey calls the German Ambassador to the Foreign Office. Grey repeats his suggestion that Britain, France and Germany should mediate in the conflict. He reiterates Der Kaiser’s suggestion – proposed a day earlier – that the Austrians be content to stop in Belgrade. Diplomacy could then take over.

  As long as the conflict is confined to Austria and Russia, Britain can remain neutral. But, Grey explains gravely, if Germany – as Austria’s ally – and France – as Russia’s ally – are drawn in, then the situation would be very different.

  ‘If war breaks out,’ Grey says. ‘It will be the greatest catastrophe that the world has ever seen. It is far from my thoughts to express any kind of threat. I only want to save you from disappointment and myself from the reproach of insincerity.’ To support Grey’s warnings, the British government orders a general alert for its armed forces.

  The Ambassador returns to the embassy and cables Berlin. When Der Kaiser sees the telegram he hits the roof. At the bottom he scribbles, ‘England reveals herself in her true colours at a moment when she thinks we are caught in the toils and, so to speak, disposed of. That common crew of shopkeepers has tried to trick us with dinners and speeches … Grey proves the King a liar … common cur. England alone bears the responsibility for peace and war …’ It is initialed ‘W.’

  Mad?

  At a meeting with the German Chancellor late that night, both the Minister for War, Falkenhayn and the Chief of the General Staff, Moltke demand that Germany use Russian partial mobilisation as an excuse to go to war. The Chancellor insists that Germany must wait for Russian general mobilisation as it is the only way of ensuring German public support and that Britain remain neutral in the ‘imminent war’ against France and Russia.

  At another meeting in Berlin that night, the Chancellor tells the British Ambassador that Germany will soon be going to war against France and Russia. To try to ensure British neutrality the Chancellor says that Germany will not annex any parts of France. He’s not prepared to give the same guarantee about French colonies. During the same meeting, the Chancellor all but announces that Germany will soon violate Belgium’s neutrality. (He adds that if Belgium doesn’t resist, then Germany will not annex that country. It is at last clear to London that Germany has no interest in peace.)

  After the British Ambassador leaves the meeting, the Chancellor receives a message from the German Ambassador in London. It says that Grey is most anxious for a four power conference, but that if Germany attacks France, Britain will have no other choice but to intervene in the war.

  In response to the British warning, the Chancellor does a swift about-turn.

  He writes to the German Ambassador in Vienna, ‘If, therefore, Austria should reject all mediation, we are faced with a conflagration in which Britain would be against us, Italy and Romania in all probability not with us. We should be two powers against four. With Britain an enemy, the weight of the operations would fall on Germany … Under these circumstances we must urgently and emphatically suggest to the Vienna Cabinet acceptance of mediation under the present honourable conditions. The responsibility falling on us and Austria for the consequences which would ensue in case of refusal would be uncommonly heavy.’

  Five minutes later, the Chancellor sends a second message asking his man in Vienna to stop ‘refusing any exchange of views with Russia,’ and warning that we ‘must refuse to allow Vienna to draw us into a world conflagration frivolously and without regard to our advice.’

  In a third message, the Chancellor writes that, ‘To avert a general catastrophe or in any case to put Russia in the wrong, we must urgently wish Vienna to begin and continue conversations with Russia.’

  Horrified at what he sees as his ally’s sudden about-face, Berchtold tells the German Ambassador that this is all coming far too late. He says he’ll need a few days to think about what Germany is now saying. Until then, events will proceed.

  Later in the evening, in St Petersburg, the Tsar receives a telegram from his cousin, Der Kaiser. Der Kaiser says that he believes his proposal for a halt in Belgrade is within sight of being accepted. He says that Russian mobilisations – even partial mobilisation against Austria alone – are going to compromise this.

  The Tsar is badly shaken. In his nightshirt, he hurries downstairs to the hall where the telephone stands. Unused as he is to the instrument, he telephones the Minister of War and the Chief of Staff, Januskevitch, and orders that mobilisation should be stopped. The Minister explains that such a thing is technically impossible. He passes the phone to the Chief of Staff, General Janushkevitch. He too explains that this cannot be done.

  ‘Stop it,’ the Tsar snaps. Transmission of military telegrams ordering mobilisation is halted for the night.

  The Tsar wires back to Der Kaiser that the military measures now coming into force – that is, the partial mobilisation that the Tsar thinks is continuing – are only for reasons of defence because of what Austria is doing.

  And finally, after all this, dear reader, on this momentous day when the great leaders of Europe have been making their great decisions, let�
��s not forget about a person for whom, hopefully, you have come to care about. For today was also a momentous day for Clara. It was the day when she couldn’t wait any longer and went to meet James. Let’s rewind the clock a few hours to the late morning.

  Clara is on her way to St James’s Park. She goes to this meeting with impunity now. If Henry is aware that she is doing this, he says nothing. Had he asked, Clara was ready to make some impertinent answer along the lines of ‘I can do what I like’ or ‘What’s it to you?’ but in the end, he never said anything. She’s not even sure he noticed, so caught up is he in his own sordid life.

  She hopes she will just bump into James, but now that she has begun her journey, it occurs to her that maybe he won’t be there. Austria has declared war on Serbia according to the newspaper sellers’ posters. Maybe this means that, with things this serious, James won’t be able to take a lunch break. She finds she is hurrying and is terribly anxious that he won’t be there. She couldn’t bear that. She loves his company.

  Clara is also excited because he should have arranged the meeting with the solicitor. Now that she knows she is not alone, Clara is looking forward to that meeting. It will be a step further down the road she has chosen to take.

  And here, dear reader, you’ll forgive me if I interject. There is a moment in each of our lives that could be described as our most perfect moment. I use ‘moment’ in the poetic rather than the scientific sense. I don’t mean an instant but rather a short space of time – probably not longer than a day. For Clara, that moment is about to come.

  Because, as it turns out, James is there that day. He has snatched some time away from the madness of what is going on at the Foreign Office – the comings and goings of various ambassadors, the endless meetings to try to interpret what is being said and to phrase replies – to try to clear his head. He knows he will be there until late tonight so he told his secretary he might take a few hours.