The Sleepwalkers (76 page)

As if this were not enough, Madame Caillaux's trial was due to open on 20 July and there was reason to fear that exposures and revelations in court might trigger a chain of scandals that would shake the government. The scope of the threat became apparent when rumours circulated that the murdered newspaper editor Calmette had also had in his possession deciphered German telegrams revealing the extent of Caillaux's negotiations with Germany during the Agadir crisis in 1911. In these communications – according to the telegrams, at least – Caillaux had spoken of the desirability of a rapprochement with Berlin. Caillaux also claimed to possess affidavits proving that Poincaré had orchestrated the campaign against him. On 11 July, three days before the president's departure for Russia, Caillaux threatened to make these known to the public if Poincaré did not press for the acquittal of his wife.
²¹
The occult machines of Parisian political intrigue were still turning at full throttle.

Despite these concerns, Poincaré embarked on his journey across the Baltic Sea in a surprisingly calm and resolved mood. It must have been a huge relief to escape Paris at a time when the Caillaux trial had thrown the newspapers into a frenzy. He spent much of the first three days of the crossing on the deck of the
France
briefing Viviani, whose ignorance of foreign policy he found ‘shocking', for the mission in St Petersburg.
²²
His summary of these tutorials, which gives us a clear sense of Poincaré's own thinking as he left Paris, included ‘details on the alliance', an overview of ‘the various subjects raised in St Petersburg in 1912', ‘the military conventions of France and Russia', Russia's approach to England regarding a naval convention and ‘relations with Germany'. ‘I have never had difficulties with Germany,' Poincaré declared, ‘because I have always treated her with great firmness.'
²³
The ‘subjects raised in St Petersburg in 1912' included the reinforcement of strategic railways, the importance of massive offensive strikes from the Polish salient and the need to focus on Germany as the principal adversary. And the reference to England is an indication that Poincaré was thinking in terms not just of the alliance with Russia, but of the embryonic Triple Entente. Here in a nutshell was Poincaré's security credo: the alliance is our bedrock; it is the indispensable key to our military defence; it can only be maintained by intransigence in the face of demands from the opposing bloc. These were the axioms that would frame his interpretation of the crisis unfolding in the Balkans.

To judge from the diary entries, Poincaré found the days at sea profoundly relaxing. While Viviani fretted over the news of Parisian scandal and intrigue arriving in fragments via the radio-telegraph from Paris, Poincaré enjoyed the warm air on deck and the play of the sunshine on a blue sea brushed by ‘imperceptible waves'. There was just one small hitch: while approaching the harbour at Kronstadt, the
France
, steaming along at 15 knots in the early morning darkness of 20 July, managed to ram a Russian tugboat towing a frigate towards its berth. The incident woke Poincaré in his cabin. How vexing that a French warship sailing in neutral waters under the command of an admiral of the fleet should have struck and damaged a tugboat of the allied nation. It was, he noted irritably in the diary, ‘a gesture lacking in dexterity and elegance'.

The president's good cheer was restored by the brilliant scene that greeted the
France
as it sailed into Kronstadt harbour. From all directions, naval vessels and festively decorated packet and pleasure boats motored out to welcome the visitors and the imperial launch pulled alongside to transfer Poincaré to the Tsar's yacht
Alexandria
. ‘I leave the
France,
' Poincaré noted, ‘with the emotion that always overcomes me when, to the noise of cannonfire, I leave one of our warships.'
²⁴
Across the water, standing beside the Tsar on the bridge of the
Alexandria
, where he had an excellent view of the entire scene, Maurice Paléologue was already mentally composing a paragraph for his memoirs:

It was a magnificent spectacle. In a quivering, silvery light, the
France
slowly surged forward over the turquoise and emerald waves, leaving a long white furrow behind her. Then she stopped majestically. The mighty warship which has brought the head of the French state is well worthy of her name. She was indeed France coming to Russia. I felt my heart beating.
²⁵

The minutes of the summit meetings that took place over the next three days have not survived. In the 1930s, the editors of the
Documents Diplomatiques Français
searched for them in vain.
²⁶
And the Russian records of the meetings, less surprisingly perhaps, given the disruptions to archival continuity during the years of war and civil war, have also been lost. Nevertheless, it is possible by reading the accounts in Poincaré's diaries alongside the memoirs of Paléologue and the notes kept by other diplomats present during those fateful days, to get a fairly clear sense of what transpired.

The meetings were centrally concerned with the crisis unfolding in Central Europe. It is important to emphasize this, because it has often been suggested that as this was a long-planned state visit rather than an exercise in crisis summitry, the matters discussed must have followed a pre-planned agenda in which the Serbian question occupied a subordinate place. In fact, quite the opposite is the case. Even before Poincaré had left the
France
, the Tsar was already telling the ambassador how much he was looking forward to his meeting with the president of the Republic: ‘We shall have weighty matters to discuss. I am sure we shall agree on all points . . . But there is one question which is very much in my mind – our understanding with England. We
must
get her to come into our alliance.'
²⁷

As soon as the formalities were done with, the Tsar and his guest made their way to the stern of the
Alexandria
, and entered into conversation. ‘Or perhaps I should say a discussion,' wrote Paléologue, ‘for it was obvious that they were talking business, firing questions at each other and arguing.' It seemed to the ambassador that Poincaré was dominating the conversation; soon he was doing ‘all the talking, while the Tsar simply nodded acquiescence, but [the Tsar's] whole appearance showed his sincere approval'.
²⁸
According to Poincaré's diary, the conversation in the yacht touched first on the alliance, of which the Tsar spoke ‘with great firmness'. The Tsar asked him about the Humbert scandal, which he said had made a very bad impression in Russia, and he urged Poincaré to do whatever was necessary to prevent the Three Year Law from falling. Poincaré in turn assured him that the new French chamber had shown its true will by voting to retain the law and that Viviani too was a firm supporter. Then the Tsar raised the matter of the relations between Sergei Witte and Joseph Caillaux, who were said to be the exponents of a new foreign policy based on rapprochement between Russia, France, Germany and Britain. But the two men agreed that this was an unfeasible project that posed no threat to the current geopolitical alignment.
²⁹

In short, even as they made their way to shore, Poincaré and the Tsar established that they were both thinking along the same lines. The key point was alliance solidarity, and that meant not just diplomatic support, but the readiness for military action. On the second day (21 July), the Tsar came to see Poincaré in his apartments at the Peterhof and the two men spent an hour tête-à-tête. This time, the conversation focused first on the tension between Russia and Britain in Persia. Poincaré adopted a conciliating tone, insisting that these were minor vexations that ought not to compromise good Anglo-Russian relations. Both men agreed that the source of the problem did not lie in London or St Petersburg, but with unspecified ‘local interests' of no broader relevance. And the Tsar noted with some relief that Edward Grey had not allowed Berlin's discovery of the naval talks to scupper the search for a convention. Some other issues were touched on – Albania, Graeco-Turkish tension over the Aegean islands and Italian policy – but the Tsar's ‘most vivid preoccupation', Poincaré noted, related to Austria and to her plans in the aftermath of the events at Sarajevo. At this point in the discussion, Poincaré reported, the Tsar made a highly revealing comment: ‘He repeats to me that under the present circumstances, the complete alliance between our two governments appears to him more necessary than ever.' Nicholas left soon afterwards.
³⁰

Here again, the central theme was the unshakeable solidarity of the Franco-Russian Alliance in the face of possible provocations from Austria. But what did this mean in practice? Did it mean that the alliance would respond to an Austrian démarche against Serbia with a war that must, by necessity, be continental in scope? Poincaré offered a coded answer to this question on that afternoon (21 July), when, together with Viviani and Paléologue, he received the various ambassadors. The second in line was the Austro-Hungarian ambassador Fritz Szapáry, newly returned from Vienna, where he had been at the bedside of his dying wife. After a few words of sympathy on the assassination, Poincaré asked whether there had been any news of Serbia. ‘The judicial enquiry is proceeding,' Szapáry answered. Paléologue's account of Poincaré's reply accords closely with that given in Szapary's dispatch:

Of course I am anxious about the results of this enquiry
Monsieur l'Ambassadeur
. I can remember two previous enquiries which did not improve your relations with Serbia . . . Don't you remember? The Friedjung affair and the Prochaska affair?
³¹

This was an extraordinary response for a head of state visiting a foreign capital to make to the representative of a third state. Quite apart from the taunting tone, it was in effect denying in advance the credibility of any findings the Austrians might produce in their enquiry into the background of the assassinations. It amounted to declaring that France did not and would not accept that the Serbian government bore any responsibility whatsoever for the murders in Sarajevo and that any demands made upon Belgrade would be illegitimate. The Friedjung and Prochaska affairs were pretexts for an a priori rejection of the Austrian grievance. In case this was not clear enough, Poincaré went on:

I remark to the ambassador with great firmness that Serbia has friends in Europe who would be astonished by an action of this kind.
³²

Paléologue remembered an even sharper formulation:

Serbia has some very warm friends in the Russian people. And Russia has an ally, France. There are plenty of complications to be feared!
³³

Szapáry, too, reported the president as saying that an Austrian action would produce ‘a situation dangerous for peace'. Whatever Sazonov's exact words, the effect was shocking, and not just for Szapáry, but even for the Russians standing nearby, some of whom, de Robien reported, were ‘known for their antipathy towards Austria'.
³⁴
At the close of his dispatch, Szapáry noted – and it is hard to fault his judgement – that the ‘tactless, almost threatening demeanour' of the French president, a ‘foreign statesman who was a guest in this country', stood in conspicuous contrast with the ‘reserved and cautious attitude of Mr Sazonov'. The whole scene suggested that the arrival of Poincaré in St Petersburg would have ‘anything but a calming effect'.
³⁵

In commenting on the contrast between Sazonov and Poincaré, Szapáry identified a raw nerve in the Franco-Russian relationship. During an embassy dinner that evening – a splendid affair in honour of the president – Poincaré sat next to Sazonov. In stifling heat – the room was poorly ventilated – they discussed the Austro-Serbian situation. To his dismay, Poincaré found Sazonov preoccupied and little disposed to firmness. ‘The timing is bad for us,' Sazonov said, ‘our peasants are still very busy with their work in the fields.'
³⁶
In the meanwhile, in the
petit salon
next door, where the less important guests were being entertained, a different mood prevailed. Here, a colonel from Poincaré's entourage was heard proposing a toast ‘to the next war and to certain victory'.
³⁷
Poincaré was unsettled by Sazonov's irresolution. ‘We must,' he told Paléologue, ‘warn Sazonov of the evil designs of Austria, encourage him to remain firm and promise him our support.'
³⁸
Later that night, after a reception by the municipal assembly, Poincaré found himself sitting at the back of the imperial yacht with Viviani and Izvolsky, who had travelled back from Paris to take part in the meetings. Izvolsky seemed preoccupied – perhaps he had been talking with Sazonov. Viviani appeared ‘sad and surly'. As the yacht sailed along towards the Peterhof in virtual silence, Poincaré looked up into the night sky and asked himself, ‘What does Austria have in store for us?'
³⁹

The next day, 22 July, was particularly difficult. Viviani appeared to be having a breakdown. It came to a head in the afternoon, when the French prime minister, who happened to be seated at lunch to the left of the Tsar, seemed to find it impossible to answer any of the questions addressed to him. By mid-afternoon, his behaviour had become more outlandish. While Nicholas and Poincaré sat listening to a military band, Viviani was seen standing alone near the imperial tent muttering, grumbling, swearing loudly and generally drawing attention to himself. Paléologue's efforts to calm him were of no avail. Poincaré's diary registered the situation with a lapidary comment: ‘Viviani is getting sadder and sadder and everyone is starting to notice it. The dinner is excellent.'
⁴⁰
Eventually it was announced that Viviani was suffering from a ‘liver crisis' and would have to retire early.