Moonlight

by Fergus O'Connell

  Clara writes in her diary. ‘There is one form of love where people have things in common. There is another one – I don’t know yet whether it’s more or less intense – where you just love the other person for being themselves, for what they are and do.’

  Chapter 44

  Saturday 1 August 1914

  At 3:45 in the afternoon, the telegrams of mobilisation are handed in at the Central Telegraph Office in Paris. The first notices of mobilisation start to appear, still wet from the billposter’s brush.

  Armée de Terre et Armée de Mer.

  ORDRE DE MOBILISATION GÉNÉRALE.

  It’s a Saturday yet Paris is strangely deserted. There are no taxis and the Metro isn’t running. Buses have been requisitioned to carry men to their mobilisation points.

  The French General Staff had previously estimated that thirteen per cent of reservists would fail to turn up. They are delighted when they discover that the figure is closer to one and a half per cent.

  At 4:23 p.m. a telegram from the German Ambassador in London arrives in Berlin. The British are proposing that they will guarantee the neutrality of France and thus limit the war to one fought in the east. Der Kaiser is delighted. ‘That calls for champagne,’ he says and immediately accepts. He then orders German forces to strike against Russia alone and demands that his generals shift the mobilisation to the east.

  This leads to fierce protests from Moltke who says that it is not technically possible for Germany to do this. It’s that old mobilisation problem again. The bulk of the German forces are already advancing into Luxembourg and Belgium. After a great deal of argument, it is decided to mobilise as planned but then to cancel the planned invasion of Luxembourg. The army will then redeploy to the east.

  Like all military men who want to try out the thing they have created, Moltke is depressed beyond belief. ‘Now it only remains for Russia to back out, too,’ he says gloomily. However, he does manage to persuade Der Kaiser that the advance into Luxembourg needs to continue ‘for technical reasons.’ By 7:00 p.m. that evening, the first German troops are in Luxembourg.

  Meanwhile, the German Chancellor announces that Germany has mobilised and delivers an ultimatum to France, telling her to renounce its alliance with Russia or face a German attack. In response to reports of German troops invading Luxembourg and Belgium, plus the German ultimatum, French mobilisation is authorised.

  The Germans also declare war on Russia. When presenting his declaration of war, the German Ambassador accidentally gives the Russians two copies. One claims that Russia refuses to reply to Germany and the other says that said Russia’s replies were unacceptable.

  In Germany, there are exhilarated crowds on the Unter den Linden in Berlin. The same is true in Munich on the Odeonsplatz where a young Austrian called Adolf Hitler celebrates along with everybody else. Der Kaiser summons the Chief of General Staff to his palace and says, ‘Now you can do as you wish. March into Luxembourg.’

  In London, Grey still has no comfort for Cambon, the French Ambassador. Grey points out that Germany has said it will not attack France if the French stay out of the fight between Germany and Russia. He knows the French won’t do this because of the alliance they have with the Russians. But, Sir Edward says, Britain doesn’t even know the terms of this alliance. It’s not going to send its troops to fight in France on that basis.

  Cambon tries to argue that Britain has an obligation to help France but Grey is having none of it. Cambon talks about the ‘obligation of British interests’ but Grey replies that the Cabinet will make its own evaluation of British interests. The only thing Grey offers is that he will remind his Cabinet colleagues about France’s undefended Atlantic and Channel coastlines.

  Clara is feeling terribly down. She’s tormented by what she’s about to put everybody through. She remembers that one time she loved Henry and now she is going to hurt him terribly. She wonders if he ever felt bad about the ways he used to hurt her.

  And it isn’t so much Henry as the girls. Their whole future is going to be radically altered now and it is all because of what Clara is about to do – actually, because of Clara’s happiness. Does she have the right to do this? And to children. Her own children. Who she loves more than life itself. She would die rather than hurt them. But she realises now that this is not actually true. Because if it were, she would just get on with it and stay with Henry. But if she stayed with Henry, she believes – and of this she is quite convinced – that she would die. And it is this thought which keeps her facing resolutely down the road she has chosen to take.

  She wishes there was some way she could make it easier for all of them, but she knows that they will each have to deal with it themselves. It may not be so difficult for Virginia, but it’s going to be awful for Ursula. Clara feels terrible that she is the cause of visiting this unhappiness on people she loves – or, in Henry’s case, used to love.

  Even the thought of knowing that James is in her life brings her no comfort.

  That evening in London, when Winston Churchill learns that Germany has declared war on Russia, he issues the order to mobilise the British fleet.

  Chapter 45

  Sunday 2 August 1914

  The German Army occupies Luxembourg as a preliminary step to the invasion of Belgium and then France.

  On the platform at the top of the Eiffel Tower, French soldiers have mounted a lookout for German aircraft.

  At three o’clock in the Winter Palace in St Petersburg, a solemn ceremony takes place. In front of six thousand people dressed in gala costumes, the Tsar takes the gospel in his right hand. He takes the same oath that his ancestor took in 1812 just before going out to face Napoleon’s Grande Armée: ‘Officers of my guard here present, I salute and bless in you all my army. Solemnly I swear that I will not conclude peace as long as there is one enemy on the soil of our country.’ A wave of cheering that lasts ten minutes shakes the hall.

  Now, even though it was probably the last thing he wanted, it is game on for the Tsar in the Group of Death.

  The British Cabinet, sitting around the long table with its covering of green baize, is being pushed for a decision by Sir Edward Grey. He argues that Britain has ‘both moral obligations of honour and substantial obligations of policy in taking sides with France.’ He tells his colleagues that if Britain remains neutral, he will resign. The meeting, which began at eleven, is still sitting at a quarter to two. Eventually Grey is authorised to tell the French Ambassador that if the German fleet comes into the Channel, the British fleet will give France all the protection it can muster.

  The Cabinet meeting resumes at 6:30 p.m. Grey, pushing again, gets agreement that if the Germans violate Belgian neutrality, Britain will take action.

  After the meeting, Grey promises the French Ambassador that the Royal Navy will protect France’s coast from German attack. The Ambassador is delighted, reporting to his people that he now feels Britain will enter the war. ‘In truth,’ he writes, ‘a great country does not wage war by halves. Once it decided to fight the war at sea it would necessarily be led into fighting it on land as well.’

  That evening, Grey is dining when a red dispatch box comes in from the Foreign Office. It contains the news that, since six o’clock this morning, German troop trains have been leaving Cologne station at the rate of one every three or four minutes. They are headed not south-west towards France but towards Aixla-Chapelle, the direction of Belgium.

  In addition, the Germans have given the Belgians an ultimatum that German troops should be allowed to pass through Belgium to counter ‘the threat of a French invasion.’ The Belgians are given twelve hours to reply. King Albert of Belgium refuses the German request to violate his country’s neutrality.

  Clara writes in her diary, ‘If I were to say no to this now, I would be saying no to the only opportunity for love I will get in this lifetime. There won’t be another.’

  Then she adds, ‘I wonder whether Henry will try nasty things involving the children.’

&n
bsp; Finally, she writes, ‘I have set my face to doing this and the decision is now made, the door is closed, the Rubicon has been crossed.’

  Clara finds that when she is feeling very, very small, writing in her diary helps. When she does it she feels like the Clara of the time before she met Henry, the Clara of when she is with James.

  Chapter 46

  Monday 3 August 1914

  A Cabinet meeting is held at 11 a.m. in London. The Cabinet approves the mobilisation of the Army and the Navy. It is Bank Holiday Monday.

  In the afternoon, sometime after half past three, Sir Edward Grey, wearing a light grey summer suit, rises from the front bench in the House of Commons. His face is pale. He begins by telling a packed house that, even though he has consistently worked to preserve peace, the peace of Europe cannot be saved. Now that this is the case, he wants to make it clear that the House is free to decide what its response should be. He wants to make it clear that there is no ‘secret engagement’ into which Britain has entered with other countries which it is now bound to honour.

  Grey explains that, up until yesterday, no promise of anything more than diplomatic support had been given to anybody.

  Uh oh, is our reaction to the beginning of this speech. While we may not have heard this particular speech before, the style of speech is very well known to us, if we’ve ever listened to a politician speak. It begins with a categorical denial. So then, you’d have to ask, why say anything else? But of course politicians, being politicians, always have to say something else. Obviously, one of the great drivers of politicians is the need for power. But surely another one has to be that they love to hear what they have to say and assume that other people have that same crying need.

  So after the categorical denial comes the beginning of the watering down of the categorical denial. And here it comes: After the 1906 Morocco Crisis, Grey explains, he was asked whether, if France and Germany had gone to war over Morocco, Britain would have given her support to France. His reply at the time was that it would have if public opinion supported that course of action. So then when the crisis had blown over, the French pointed out that, even if Britain had wanted to give that support, it wouldn’t have been able to unless some ‘conversations had already taken place between naval and military experts.’

  So such conversations had taken place but purely on the understanding that they didn’t bind or restrict the government in any way.

  Grey goes on to read a letter he sent to the French Ambassador, confirming this situation in writing. The silence in the House is complete as it learns for the first time of this document that doesn’t commit the government to anything. No – of course, not!

  Grey is interrupted at this point. ‘What is the date of that?’ a member asks. ‘The 22nd November, 1912,’ Grey replies. Sir Edward goes on about the previous Morocco and Agadir crises, and then how the current crisis is different. But he ends by saying that he now feels that he has ‘faithfully and completely cleared the ground with regard to the question of obligation.’

  Having explained then that Britain has no obligations arising from any of the preceding history, Grey’s next sentence is rather extraordinary: ‘I now come to what we think the situation requires of us.’ And there is a sense of ‘here it comes,’ when he goes on to say, ‘For many years we have had a long-standing friendship with France—’

  ‘And with Germany!’ a member interrupts.

  Grey sails on. He recalls how, when the agreement with Britain and France was put in place, ‘the warm and cordial feeling resulting from the fact that these two nations, who had had perpetual differences in the past, had cleared these differences away … But how far that friendship entails obligation … let every man look into his own heart, and his own feelings, and construe the extent of the obligation for himself.’

  So now – very deftly – we’ve gone from no obligation at all to – hey – an obligation. Sound of turning one hundred and eighty degrees. Grey then goes on to read out the letter he sent to the French Ambassador yesterday, what he referred to earlier as ‘up until yesterday.’

  ‘I am authorised to give an assurance that, if the German fleet comes into the Channel or through the North Sea to undertake hostile operations against the French coasts or shipping, the British fleet will give all the protection in its power. This assurance is, of course, subject to the policy of his Majesty’s Government receiving the support of Parliament, and must not be taken as binding his Majesty’s Government to take any action until the above contingency of action by the German fleet takes place.’

  And so, as Grey’s non-obligation is rapidly transformed into an obligation, the British Parliament and nation and Empire slide down the slipway to war.

  Soon after seven, the House reassembles and Grey tells it that Belgium has rejected the German ultimatum.

  In Austria, as in all the other countries in the Group of Death, the army begins commandeering horses, taking them from carriages, ploughs, carts and – basically – wherever they can find them.

  In Berlin, Germany declares war on France.

  In Paris, the streets are black with people singing La Marseillaise and carrying tricolours. German food shops are ransacked. There is a coolness bordering on hostility to British visitors as it is still not really clear if Britain will enter the war on the side of France.

  Clara writes, ‘My life is filled with total happiness and I am joyous and free. Things are always difficult after difficult decisions. You make the right decision – to those affected by it, it may not seem so at the time but only in the fullness of time.’

  Chapter 47

  Tuesday 4 August 1914

  The first of the thousands of trains that will carry the French Army to meet their enemy have begun running. The carriages are decorated with flowers and tricolours. Slogans have been chalked on the outside. ‘Excursion to Berlin,’ one of them reads. The soldiers are in high spirits. La Marseillaise is sung endlessly.

  The French General Staff believe they will be facing sixty-eight German divisions. In fact, they will be opposed by at least eighty-eight divisions. It will be the first of many, many surprises that not just the French Army but all the contestants in the Group of Death are going to experience over the next four and a bit years.

  Clara is out early to do her grocery shopping for the day. Mr Evans, the grocer, tells her that the price of butter and eggs has gone up by nearly fifty per cent. She’s astonished.

  ‘It’s all this talk of war, you see, Mrs Kenton. I’ll charge you the old price today but I’m afraid from tomorrow on, it will have to be the new one.’

  Clara buys extra.

  ‘And if I were you, Mrs Kenton, I’d lay in stocks of any nonperishables as well.’

  Clara does so. Late in the afternoon, she will take the girls out for a walk and they will happen to go by the grocers. To their surprise, it will be closed. A note on the door will read, ‘Sold out of everything – please come back tomorrow.’

  In Berlin, Germany declares war on Belgium. Later that evening the German Chancellor tells the Reichstag that the German invasions of Belgium and Luxembourg are in violation of international law, but he argues that Germany is ‘in a state of necessity, and necessity knows no law.’

  The declaration of war on Belgium violates Belgian neutrality, the status of which Germany, France and Britain are all committed to by treaty. So now Britain delivers an ultimatum to Germany, asking for an assurance that Belgian neutrality be respected. This is done via the British Ambassador in Berlin.

  In Berlin, at 7 p.m. that evening he delivers the ultimatum to Bethmann at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. The ultimatum demands a commitment to go no further with Germany’s violation of Belgian neutrality. Britain will wait until midnight for a reply. The British Ambassador goes back to the Embassy to pack.

  Der Kaiser says, ‘To think that George and Nicky should have played me false! If my grandmother had been alive, she would never have allowed it.’

  In the Cabine
t room at 10 Downing Street, Prime Minister Asquith and his wife, Sir Edward Grey and Lord Crewe sit in the gathering darkness. The portrait of Sir Robert Walpole by Van Loo looks down on them as they smoke and wait. Finally, the clock on the white marble mantelpiece strikes eleven – midnight, Central European Time. No reply has come. The ultimatum has run out.

  As the British ultimatum runs out, so too does Henry’s semen, having just a little while earlier climaxed inside Mary.

  Chapter 48

  Thursday 6 August 1914

  Clara meets James as they had arranged. He is very apologetic – he can only spend a couple of hours with her.

  ‘Things are quite mad,’ he says. ‘So many English people on the Continent who we’re trying to get home. Never mind dealing with our new best friends, the French and the Russians. Anyway, how have you been, my beautiful girl?’ he asks her, as they find a seat.

  ‘I’ve missed you’ she replies. ‘I thought today would never come.’

  ‘It’s probably good that I’ve been spending every waking moment over there,’ he says, indicating the long tiers of windows of the Foreign Office. ‘If I’d had time on my hands, I don’t think I should have been able to stop myself from slipping round to Horn Lane in the hope of catching sight of you.’

  All Clara can think to say is, ‘I love you so much, James – even though I hardly know you.’

  ‘You know all the important things,’ he says.

  “Yes, I do, don’t I?’

  After a pause, she asks, ‘And do you know all the important things about me?’

  ‘I’ll never know everything about you,’ he says. ‘That’s why I want to spend the rest of my life finding out.’

  ‘And have you been in good spirits?’ he asks. ‘What with that husband of yours and everything?’

  ‘Oh, Henry – it’s almost like he’s not there. I’m fearful about next week … the solicitor … you know, the divorce and all that.’