Wayward Winds (49 page)

 97 
Ultimatum

Within days all the conspirators but Muhamed Mehmedbasic had been captured and were in police custody.

Word of the murder spread like wildfire. The entire world was outraged.

Austria had long been hoping for some pretext to invade and annex Serbia as she had Bosnia and Herzegovina in 1908. Austrian officials suspected the complicity of the Serbian government in the plot. The assassination was greeted by rejoicing in Belgrade. Official condolences were offered, but no one was really fooled. The Serbian press hailed Gavrilo Princip as a national hero.

All Europe anticipated that Austria would now invade Serbia. Many expected war.

Days passed, however, then weeks. Still Austria took no action. Tensions slowly eased.

Perhaps the brief crisis would blow over, as had all others of the previous decade.

But all was not so quiet as it seemed. German Kaiser Wilhelm II and Austro-Hungarian ambassador Count Szögyény-Marich met on July 5. Wilhelm pledged Austria his “full support.” Szögyény-Marich understood his meaning well enough—if Austria took action and Russia declared war, Germany would back her action.

Thus assured by the kaiser's blank cheque of support, Austria considered its options carefully on how best to exact its revenge against Serbia.

An ultimatum followed on July 23.

————

With heavy heart Timothy Diggorsfeld sat down in his study with the afternoon edition of the July 27
London Times
in front of him.

The headline across the front page read: E
NGLAND
'
S
A
PPEALS
R
EJECTED
, M
OBILIZATIONS
L
OOM
. He went on to scan the article under the frightening words.

The demands of Austria-Hungary's July 23 ultimatum to Serbia—requiring: suppression of all nationalist propaganda and of all conspiratorial societies against Austria, the removal of all officials in the Serbian government suspected of complicity in the assassination, or of anti-Austrian propaganda, that Austrian representatives be allowed to collaborate with Serbian police investigations to root out such subversive activities against Austria, the cessation of arms trade across the Austrian border, and a formal apology for the assassination by the Serbian government—appeared to have been met by Serbian compliance.

Within five minutes of the 48-hour deadline, Serbian premier Pashich delivered in person to the Austrian minister in Belgrade Serbia's capitulation on all but minor details.

The Austrian minister, whose instructions were to accept full compliance or nothing, rejected Serbia's reply. Immediately he left Belgrade for Vienna. Both Serbia and Austria began military mobilizations.

The capitals of Europe were shocked by Austria's belligerent posture, for Serbia had gone further than anyone thought she would.

The day following these developments, yesterday, British foreign secretary Sir Edward Grey proposed a conference of mediation involving Germany, France, Italy, and Britain. The proposal was rejected by Germany, who pled with Britain and France to keep their ally Russia from aggression. Russia, however, declared a pre-mobilization of her military forces, stating that if Austria crosses the Serbian border, she would defend her brother Serbs and have no choice but to declare war on Austria.

This morning, England made another appeal to Austria, Serbia, and Russia to suspend their military preparations, pleading again for a conference of powers to mediate the crisis. At press time, however,
there has been no reply to these requests. Mobilizations apparently continue throughout the region.

It is feared that the crisis, though localized, may produce a ripple effect. For if Austria invades Serbia, Russia has already declared that it will fight in support of its Serbian ally.

If Russia fights, however, Germany will step in to defend her ally Austria.

In that event, Russia's ally France would no doubt enter the conflict against Germany.

If Austria continues determined to punish Serbia for the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the only hope against what appears a disastrous potential chain of events is for the powers of Europe to lay aside their ultimatums long enough to gather around a table of mediation. Intelligence sources, however, report only increasing rumors of military preparations in all the nations involved. . . .

Diggorsfeld set down the paper with a sigh and closed his eyes.

“Oh, God,”
he prayed,
“have mercy on us that we have not learned
to love one another as you taught us!”

He thought of his friend Charles Rutherford, wondering how a former naval officer would react to such developments. And young George. How would these events affect him?

Again Diggorsfeld fell to praying, this time for the Devonshire family he loved, and for the entire nation.

————

Though all Britain's newspapers carried detailed accounts of the summer's events, few in Britain even now recognized the peril. There yet remained a sense of isolation from events so far to the east on the Continent. Average men and women vaguely knew that Luxembourg and Belgium had perpetually been neutral. But they did not recognize the extent to which that neutrality had been guaranteed by Great Britain. Within the country, and within the cabinet itself, there were strong isolationist and pacifist elements. Few even in the government thought the Austrian-Serbian conflict worth going to war over, despite Britain's guarantees to Belgium and Luxembourg.

Newspaper editorials, leaflets, and pamphlets circulated through the country in favor of one position or another, though the number of those who took the military posturing on the Continent seriously remained a minority.

Winston Churchill, as he had done as long as Charles had known him, continued to declare the danger imminent, and to sound a clear voice of preparation. Even as Timothy Diggorsfeld prayed in his office with the newspaper on his lap, in his office in the Admiralty, the first lord of the British fleet considered a grave course of action which was certain to upset those of his cabinet colleagues still determined not to be drawn into a European quarrel unless Great Britain herself were attacked.

But First Lord of the Admiralty Churchill knew this hope of many in the government for British neutrality was illusory. After Serbia's acceptance of Austria's ultimatum, he too had briefly hoped the whole crisis might blow over. Or at least be confined to the east.

But then came the news that Austria was not satisfied with the Serbian acceptance. The temperature of events continued to rise. The plan Churchill now revolved in his mind would insure Britain's best chance of success on the seas if the worst indeed came.

The navy was fully mobilized for the Royal Naval Review at Portland on the south coast of England on July 26. Though it had been scheduled to disperse following the maneuvers, Churchill had held the fleet together.

But even that might not be enough. To be ready for war, the main battle fleet must be gotten secretly north to its war station at Scapa Flow in the Orkneys, Scotland. Moreover, it must move there quickly and secretly. They must not arouse German suspicion.

It would be an obvious act of readiness for war. But Winston Churchill did not intend to be caught unprepared.

It did not take long for the first lord of the admiralty to make the decision.

He would give the secret order for the entire fleet to steam north by the most direct route, passing the Strait of Dover during the hours of darkness, eighteen miles of warships running at high speed and without lights. He would not even bring the matter before the cabinet. He would only inform the prime minister.

Churchill went to his desk and immediately began to draft the order to the commander-in-chief for the home fleets.

Tomorrow
, he wrote,
Wednesday, the First Fleet is to leave Portland for Scapa Flow. Destination is to be kept secret except to
flag and commanding officers. As you are required at the
Admiralty, Vice-Admiral 2nd Battle Squadron is to take command
. Course from
Portland is to be shaped to southward, then
a middle Channel course to the Strait of Dover. The
squadrons are to pass through the strait without lights during the night and to pass outside the shoals on their way north
. Agamemnon
is to remain at Portland, where the Second Fleet will assemble
.
1
*

  

 98 
A Sleeper Awakes

It was not quite so far north here as to remain perpetual dusk during these summer months as in the Orkneys or especially the Shetlands. But it was far enough north that the sun set late and rose early across the North Sea.

The newcomer had not been here long enough altogether to accustom himself to the sound of quiet. His world had been London for so long that the peaceful rhythmic waves slapping against the rocky shore still kept him awake at night.

But London was behind him. His days in the Commons were over. That was another life. He had cast his fate with the future. There was no turning back now.

He had arisen early, as he did on most days since he had arrived, unable to sleep. It was the morning of July 29.

A grey light of predawn vaguely shone through his window. He looked at his clock.

Three-twenty. He lay back and closed his eyes.

A faint sound protruded into his consciousness. At first it registered no mark. Then gradually he remembered it was not in London. He was miles from anywhere. What could account for the dull, distant sounds of engines . . . of machinery amid the waves striking the shoals?

A few more minutes he lay, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him.

No, something was out there.

He rose and peered out the window but saw nothing. But wait, there seemed some vague shape off in the distance. He squinted eastward. It was a clear morning, thankfully, with no fog. But it was still too dark to make it out.

Genuinely curious now, and more than a little concerned, he dressed quickly and went outside. Still gazing toward the horizon, he walked toward the bluff.

There was no mistaking it now—there was something out there, outlined above the black of the sea against the thin light of dawn. Wait, now he saw two ships . . . no, three.

He turned and hurried back into the house. A minute later he returned with binoculars. He sprinted for the lighthouse. From its tower he should be able to see what this was all about.

Five minutes later the onetime loyal parliamentarian was staring dumbfounded at a seemingly unceasing convoy of giant warships, squadron after squadron, hundreds of ships of varying sizes, the British First Fleet, steaming northward along the coast.

Whatever was going on, it was top secret. He had heard nothing about it.

He must notify their people at once!

He flew down the lighthouse stairs and again made for the house.

“McCrogher . . . McCrogher!” he cried, running inside. “Get up. We've got to get a message off!”

Groggily the Irishman came to himself to see his new guest standing at his bedside.

“Get up—we must send a message!”

“Ay, Mr. Bee'ch'm. I'll be with ye in a moment,” said McCrogher, climbing to his feet and glancing about for his trowsers. “What kind o' message?”

“The whole English fleet's on the move, man—we've got to get word to the Continent.”

“I'll get the light burnin' right away, Mr. Bee'ch'm.”

“No, you fool—not till they've all passed. We can't risk the wrong people seeing the signal. Just get up there and be ready. I'll come up directly to tell you what to report as soon as the last ship is out of sight.”

McCrogher ambled off, thinking to himself that a few minutes more in his bed might be turned to better advantage than sitting
waiting at the top of the cold lighthouse tower. He for one certainly had no trouble sleeping with the sound of the waves in his ears.