In a further, calculated, appeal the memory of
Constantine’s father – murdered by a Serb assassin – was invoked: surely the
King would not take the side of these people against the Triple Alliance? If
this were not enough, Wilhelm warned: ‘If, contrary to my expectations, you
range yourself with our opponents, Greece will be exposed to simultaneous
attack by Italy, Bulgaria and Turkey; and our personal relations will suffer
for all time.’ Not wanting to lay all the German cards on the table, a
promise of spoils of war following a partition of Serbia was deleted.
Constantine’s reply on 2 August denied
that any action was being taken to assist Serbia while concomitantly
admitting the impossibility of associating with Serbia’s enemies as Greece
was, after all, Serbia’s ally. ‘It seems to me’, the King informed his
brother-in-law, ‘that the interests of Greece demand her absolute neutrality
and the preservation of the status quo in the Balkans…If we should sacrifice
this point of view, Bulgaria would become enlarged by the annexation of
those portions of Macedonia lately won by Serbia, would surround our entire
Northern border as far as Albania, and would constitute an enormous danger
for us.’ In this, the King was merely echoing the decisions reached at a
Council of Ministers held that day which urged neutrality for Greece and
argued for an appeal to be delivered to the Central Powers (the new term for
the Triple Alliance following the defection of Italy) to restrain Bulgaria
as a means of preventing Greece’s intervention.
This was too much for Wilhelm: ‘Rubbish’, he declared with the certainty of
a man who has the scent of victory in his nostrils, ‘the Balkans are
marching!’ To make certain that he put a stop to this unconsidered wavering,
the Emperor collared Theotokis, the Greek Minister in Berlin, told him of
the alliance that Germany had just concluded with Turkey and warned him that
Greece would now be treated as an enemy if she did not join the alliance at
once.
On 4 August, as the British battle
cruisers chased Goeben and Breslau back to Messina after the
German ships had bombarded the North African ports, Theotokis telegraphed
the text of the Kaiser’s appeal-cum-threat to Athens:
The Emperor [Wilhelm] begs to inform Your Majesty that an
alliance has to-day been completed between Germany and Turkey. Bulgaria and
Rumania are also siding with Germany. The German ships at present in the
Mediterranean are about to unite themselves with the Turkish fleet in order
that they may act together. From the above Your Majesty will understand
that all the Balkan States have allied themselves with Germany in the
struggle against Slavism. His Majesty, in bringing these considerations to
Your Majesty’s knowledge, appeals to you as a comrade, as a German marshal
of whom the German army was proud when that title was conferred on you, and
as a brother-in-law; he reminds you that it was owing to the support of His
Imperial Majesty that Greece definitely retained Cavalla and he begs you to
order the mobilisation of your army, take your place at his side and march
with him hand in hand against our common enemy, Slavism. The Emperor added
that he makes this last and urgent appeal to Your Majesty at this most
critical moment, and that he is convinced that Your Majesty will not fail to
respond to it. If Greece does not range herself on the side of Germany,
every link between Greece and the Empire will be broken.
Finally His Majesty told me that what he
requires of you to-day is the carrying out of all that which Your Majesty
and he have so often discussed [touching the necessity of combating Slavism
in the Near East. The Bulgarians, according to His Majesty, are not Slavs
but Tartars].
He observed to me that, inasmuch as the Bulgarians (to whom Germany and her
Emperor had never been very favourable) have placed themselves on the side
of Germany, he can still hope that Greece will do likewise. I think it my
duty to add that the Emperor appeared to me to be extremely decided in what
he said to me.
Constantine, who was at his palace at Tatoi ‘having a
very innocent but a very excellent tea’ when the telegram arrived,
had to take this threat seriously: his brother-in-law could bluster – indeed
he was renowned for it – however, news of the Turkish mobilization following
the abortive Greco-Turkish talks provided a plausible reason for believing
that this time there was no bluff involved and that, therefore, a Turco-German
alliance did exist.
The King saw the German Minister on 6
August to press him not to present a German ultimatum which would only have
the effect of forcing Greece to draw closer to the Entente; Constantine also
wanted an assurance that the Turkish mobilization was directed at Russia. He
did, however, inform Quadt that he would be ‘willing to offer binding
assurances to both Turkey and Bulgaria that Greece would under no
circumstances act against them in the event they decided to join Germany.’
To assuage further the excitable Quadt, Constantine held out the hope that
the Greek merchant marine might secretly supply Germany with American coal.
This was enough to convince Quadt who cabled Berlin that ‘In general the
King wants to help us fully and with all means and to stand on our side, and
he thinks that he would be able to do this best if he could remain neutral.’
The Foreign Office in Berlin, who preferred this state of affairs, agreed
with Quadt.
Confirmation of the main thrust of the
Kaiser’s telegram was received on the afternoon of the 7th when it became
apparent in Athens that Souchon had passed Cape Matapan and was heading
north-east, with the Dardanelles as his most likely destination. If this
part of Wilhelm’s message now seemed to be coming true it leant greater
credence to his claim regarding a Turco-German alliance. With little room to
manoeuvre, Constantine had waited until the 7th to reply to his
brother-in-law, possibly in the hope that the position might be clarified,
though, as he admitted, he had known upon receipt of Wilhelm’s telegram of
the 4th what his response would be.
Although he would attempt to “sugar the pill” he could not see how he could
depart from the course of neutrality: ‘The Emperor knows’, he informed
Wilhelm,
that my personal sympathy as well as my political
opinions draw me to his side. I shall never forget that it is to him that we
owe Cavalla. After deep reflection, however, it is not possible for me to
see how I could be useful to him by immediately mobilising my army. The
Mediterranean is under the control of the united English and French fleets.
They would destroy both our navy and our mercantile fleet, seize our
islands, and, above all, prevent the concentration of my army, which can
only take place by sea, as there is not yet any railway. Without being of
any use to him we should be blotted out of the map. I am compelled to
consider that neutrality is a necessity for us, and this might be useful to
him, coupled with the assurance that I will not touch his friends amongst my
neighbours as long as they do not touch our local Balkan interests.
‘I tried to make it polite’, Constantine later declared,
‘but apparently the Kaiser didn’t think it was polite enough. In any case he
was particularly rude to my minister in Berlin, Monsieur Theotokis.’ As the
King admitted, Greece was in a bad way at the start of the war: ‘We had none
too much money. We had been exhausted by a very long series of wars. We
needed, above all things, rest.’
So the position then was Greece neutral,
Bulgaria neutral and Turkey allied to Germany but disinclined to fight,
though there was some expectation that the arrival of Souchon’s squadron off
the Dardanelles would force the Turks to take up arms. But to complicate the
equation Constantine knew – on 4 August – through the Kaiser’s
impetuousness, of the destination of Goeben and Breslau. There
was, of course, no reason for the King to impart this information to the
representatives of the Entente Powers; in fact, just the reverse as the
sudden appearance of a British squadron off the Dardanelles might lead
Wilhelm to the conclusion that his privileged communication had been leaked
through Athens, with, perhaps, dire consequences for Greece. And there the
matter might have ended were it not for the fact that, when the dramatic
appeal arrived from the Kaiser on the 4th, containing as it did the vital
clue as to the destination of Souchon’s squadron, King Constantine took the
telegram to Admiral Kerr, head of the Greek Navy and a serving British
officer.
The King read the telegram to Kerr,
‘expressing to him his indignation at the interference on the part of the
Emperor in the internal affairs of Greece.’
As mentioned, at this early date, it was still possible that Wilhelm was
bluffing, that there was no alliance and Goeben and Breslau
had not been ordered to Constantinople; however, both the British Legation
in Athens, and Kerr, were in constant communication with Milne, via the
Admiral Superintendent, Malta so that by Friday 7th (when Milne warned
Athens early that morning that ‘German cruisers have gone to Eastward’)
Kerr must have been reasonably sure that the information contained in the
Emperor’s telegram was correct. Yet, what was he to do with this
information? It seems evident that, at all costs, he wished to protect the
source – Constantine – and to prevent it being known that, through the King,
Wilhelm’s privileged intelligence had been leaked to a representative of the
Entente. However, that he must try somehow to impart the information that
had now come into his possession was made clear when, at 6.51 a.m. on the
7th, Milne cabled the British Minister in Athens,
‘Urgent. German ships Goeben and Breslau were off Matapan this
morning. Please make enquiry whether heard of on Aegean trade route. Cable
Malta any information.’
To begin with, Kerr chose to pass the
information he had been given by Constantine – but in a heavily diluted form
– to the Russian Minister in Athens, Prince Demidoff, who, in turn, cabled
the Admiralty in St Petersburg. Kerr must have assumed that St Petersburg
would pass the message on to London, thus ensuring that the information got
through without revealing the true source. As anticipated, early on the
morning of the 8th, the Russian Admiralty informed the British Naval Attaché
and, at 3.05 a.m., he cabled to the Admiralty in London, ‘Russian Admiralty
informed from Athens, Goeben and Breslau passed Matapan
morning of the 7th August steering to north-east.’
However, this cable was not received in the Admiralty War Room until 1.15
a.m. on Sunday 9th, when it was filed away without action. Meanwhile, fifty
minutes after the receipt of this message in London, and unaware of
precisely how the Russians had obtained the information, the Foreign Office
forwarded the cable to Athens where it landed on the desk of William Erskine
(the Chargé in the absence of Minister Elliot) and where a, presumably
sheepish, Third Secretary, George Rendel, was obliged to minute the
telegram, ‘Adm Kerr told me this morning that it was he who had given this
information to M. Demidoff.’
The circle had been completed.
The crucial portion of the intelligence
that was being so casually bandied about concerned the direction of the
German ships. Kerr knew that Souchon was heading for the Dardanelles – that
is, his course would have to be north-east – yet Milne had no such
knowledge. The C-in-C’s three telegrams to the Admiralty that day had
stated, first, that the German ships were ‘evidently going to Eastern
Mediterranean’ (which may, or may not have included the Aegean); then, that
they had ‘proceeded towards Crete’ (which would appear to rule out the
Aegean); finally, and simply, that they had ‘passed Cervi Channel
eastwards.’
Only Kerr knew that Souchon was in fact steering north-east. If his
intention was to disguise the source of this information he succeeded in the
interim for, by the time the signal eventually reached London via St
Petersburg in the small hours of Sunday morning, it is clear from the
reaction of the Foreign Office that the Legation in Athens was not credited
as being the source. What Kerr might not have anticipated was that no-one
would take any action.
As this information was being channelled
through this circuitous route, Milne had set off from Malta at a stately
pace and had completed half the distance to Cape Matapan when the farce of
the telegram prematurely declaring war on Austria broke around him, causing
him to deviate to the Adriatic where he remained temporarily following the
gratuitous advice from the Admiralty that the situation was critical. After
a copy of the Russian cable was given to the Foreign Office to forward to
Athens the telegram from St Petersburg containing the accurate indication of
Souchon’s course was quietly filed without comment by the Admiralty until
late Sunday morning, when it was realized in London that Milne continued to
loiter in the Adriatic, with little inclination to proceed in pursuit of
Souchon. Once this realization dawned upon Admiral Leveson, the D.O.D.
hastily retrieved the Russian cable and drafted an urgent priority cable to
Milne: ‘Not at war with Austria. Continue chase of Goeben which
passed Cape Matapan early on the 7th steering north-east.’
As the C-in-C had never once informed London that Souchon might be heading
north-east, Milne or his staff might have stopped to consider how the
Admiralty had obtained this information. In any event, this cable, directing
Milne to resume the chase, was not sent until 12.50 on the afternoon of
Sunday 9 August by which time is was all but too late. A combination of
Milne’s want of initiative and the multifarious intrigues in Athens had
combined to waste a perfect opportunity to catch the German ships.
Admiral Kerr’s tip-off to the Russian Minister was not
his only attempt to put Milne on the right course. Just as curious was the
incident of the phantom coaling at Syra: once Souchon passed out of sight of
Gloucester on the afternoon of Friday 7th Admiral Kerr had, apart
from the knowledge of Souchon’s destination imparted by the King, another
source of information unavailable to Milne, who was out of range — direction
finding via the wireless telegraphy of the Greek Admiralty and fleet.
Admiral Condouriotis, with the main units of the Greek fleet, was at his
naval base at Mudros when, about 10 p.m. on the evening of Friday 7th (as
Milne’s battle cruisers prepared to depart from Malta after re-coaling), a
fix was obtained on Goeben placing her near the island of Syra. Kerr
now knew – approximately – where Souchon was: if he could direct Milne to
that location, the destruction of the German squadron could be achieved
without having to divulge the fact that he was aware also, by virtue of King
Constantine, of the eventual destination of Souchon. Kerr sent a
confidential private message to Third Secretary Rendel of the British
Legation later that evening which, according to Rendel’s own subsequent
account, stated that Goeben was known to be off Syra, sailing
north-eastwards. Rendel promptly dispatched a ‘most immediate’ telegram to
Milne
who received the cable at 1.45 a.m. (now 8 August), just over an hour after
he had proceeded from Malta with the Second Battle Cruiser Squadron. As
usual Rendel had routed the signal via Malta; however, the mystery now
deepens as the message Milne actually received read: ‘Following from Athens
begins: from strength of signals Goeben thought to be near Syra.’
There was no indication of direction. It is clear that the Greek fix
had been accurate and that Goeben had, in fact, passed Syra on the
night of 7/8 August without stopping.
If Milne had entertained any doubts a further signal from Athens, one hour
later, should have removed them: it was reported that two men of war ‘had
passed Cape Spathi at 5 p.m. (7th) in the direction of Malida.’
This information, demonstrably correct, should have acted to confirm the
earlier signal; instead, there is no indication that Milne took any action
with regard to the invaluable, if incomplete, intelligence he was receiving
from Athens.
In a further attempt to reinforce the
urgency of his message Kerr once more alerted Demidoff to the latest
intelligence of the Greek W/T fix and the ‘Syra tip-off’ began its tortuous
journey via St Petersburg until it eventually reached the Foreign Office in
London at 2 p.m. on Sunday 9th, and, from there, into the hands of the
Admiralty at 5 p.m. — almost 44 hours after the information had first been
obtained. By this time the Russians, on the basis of information received
from Athens, now believed that Goeben was heading for the Dardanelles
and the Foreign Office in London was duly informed.
The Russians had also informed the French and it was actually the cable from
the French Admiralty in Paris which beat the Russian cable to the Admiralty
in London by 10 minutes. There was, however, one crucial difference from the
cable that Rendel had sent to Milne over 40 hours previously. That cable had
stated that Goeben was ‘near Syra’; by the time the
Athens-Petersburg-Paris-London circuit had been completed the information
had somehow been altered and now read, as recorded in the War Room Log Book:
‘Admiralty Paris to Admiralty London 9 August 1914. Received in War Room
4.50 p.m. Minister of Russian Navy warns that Goeben coaled
8th August Syra (sent to C-in-C Medt) also received wire from Naval Attaché
St Petersburg “Russian Admiralty just received telegram from Athens dated
8th stating the Goeben was then coaling at Syra.” ’
This information, through official channels, was preceded by some hours by
an intelligence report (telephoned to the Admiralty by the Chief Censor of
the War Office) of a message that had just been intercepted. A certain
‘Metriticicas’ in Athens had cabled to ‘Warplume’ in London the following:
‘…informed Goeben anchored Syra asked to coal — do not know if demand
will be agreed to following decision of Government to appropriate all
available coal.’
How, or why, was this information
adulterated so that Goeben, at first correctly reported as being
‘near Syra’ on the night of 7/8 August, was then reported to be coaling, or
attempting to coal, at Syra during the 8th? (It was not until 5.32 a.m. on
the 9th, and at Denusa not Syra, that Goeben anchored to await the
collier which would then not arrive till that afternoon.) For Milne, however
late, the chase was on after the fiasco of the cancelled war with Austria.
Nevertheless when, at 6.55 p.m. on the 9th, he received the adulterated
message concerning Syra, Milne chose to ignore it for the simple reason that
neither the British consul at Syra nor the head of the Eastern Telegraph
Company there, Mr Hastings, could hardly have overlooked such an event as
the coaling of a German battle cruiser.
Hastings later stated that it was an ‘absolute fable’ that Goeben and
Breslau went into Syra at all as he was bound to have heard of it and
would have reported it at once although there was a rumour that two warships
had passed between the adjacent islands of Tinos and Mykonos early Saturday
morning, 8 August.
In any event Malta had been in touch with
Syra both to ascertain the location of any German colliers in the Aegean and
to arrange the purchase of coal, while a coded message had been sent to Syra
on the morning on the 8th from Malta inquiring about the whereabouts and
cargo of the German steamer Kythnos.
Mr Saliba, the current consul, had a problem however: his predecessor, Mr
Cottrell, had taken the code books with him when he returned to Athens with
the intention of handing them in to the Legation. Mr Saliba thought that, in
the present circumstances, it would be ‘advisable’ for him to be in
possession of the code.
In the meantime, all such coded messages would have to be relayed to Athens
for deciphering. This was not untypical: the consuls on Corfu, Crete and
Rethymo all reported that they lacked the code book although this was
perhaps fortunate with regard to Rethymo as the British consul there, Mr
Trifilli, also doubled as the Austrian consul.
Mr Erskine in Athens was, meanwhile, concerned about continuing to transmit
naval intelligence to Malta in Cypher G as, although the telegrams went by
the secure Eastern Telegraph Company, the clerks were all Greeks.
Milne, though privately doubtful of the
latest news from London, simply passed on the latest, so-called,
‘intelligence’: ‘Squadron is proceeding search for Goeben she was
coaling at Syra yesterday.’
The battle cruiser squadron finally sighted Cape Matapan at midnight on 9/10
August but it was not until 9.28 on the morning of the 10th that Milne
instructed Weymouth to go to Syra and communicate with the British
consul — though only after first looking in at Milo to see if there was
anything there.
Two and a half hours later Milne had second thoughts and cancelled
Weymouth’s order regarding Syra
instructing her instead to rejoin the squadron as Goeben’s W/T
signals had been picked up at intervals varying from strength 7 to a maximum
12. Presumably Milne did not want a single armoured cruiser blundering into
the German ships but physical contact was not made and at 5.34 p.m. Milne
once more instructed Weymouth to investigate Syra. Weymouth’s
report, received at 1 a.m. on Tuesday 11th, that there were only three
steamers at Syra must have confirmed the obvious to Milne, but where then
were Goeben and Breslau?
Monday’s London Times had a better
idea than Milne: the Russian Admiralty was leaking like one of Goeben’s
boilers tubes as Reuters reported that morning from St Petersburg that ‘The
German warships Goeben and Breslau, according to intelligence
that has reached here, have passed Greece apparently directing their course
to the Dardanelles.’ Was Kerr the source of this information? On the Monday,
cabled at once to Milne it might have been of some use, though perhaps he
would choose to ignore it as mere reporter’s gossip,
but by Tuesday it was already too late. As Milne paraded forlornly backwards
and forwards in the south-west Aegean a note of desperation crept in: he
signalled to Gloucester at 11.49 a.m. on the 11th ‘Call at Syra – see
Consul – get all information about German cruisers – did they come there. No
information coming from Syra or elsewhere. Is coal ready for us ordered from
Athens…’
Coal remains the other great mystery, following the
silence of Admiral Kerr. The subject of coal – coal for the German squadron
– ushers in the reappearance of Eleutherios Venizelos. Coal for Troubridge’s
squadron had been obtained by the British consul at Corfu but on 3 August he
notified Erskine that the Greek Government had placed a prohibition on the
sale of coal by British subjects. Erskine cabled Milne (repeated to the
Foreign Office) that, due to small stocks available for their own use in
case of war, Venizelos had prohibited all exportation of coal.
Erskine was of the opinion that there were insufficient grounds for protest
but he could, perhaps, arrange to purchase coal for the fleet if the British
Government would allow the Greeks to buy coal in England.
Venizelos apparently relented as Erskine was able to arrange to send 1,000
tons to Corfu late on the evening of 4 August,
while Milne, meanwhile, made arrangements to try to purchase coal in
Alexandria or Port Said and have it shipped to Ithaca for Troubridge.
Erskine again saw Venizelos on the
morning of Wednesday 5th – after the Prime Minister had learned from
Theotokis of the Turco-German alliance – then, at 5 p.m. that evening,
Erskine cabled a report of the meeting to Grey:
Indications have recently reached Greek Government from
several sources that Germany is pressing Turkey to make common cause with
her, and M. Venizelos told me this morning that Greek Minister at Berlin had
just learnt from Government circles that military convention has now been
concluded with Turkey.
His Excellency informed me in confidence
that German Government had recently been and still are exercising strongest
possible pressure on Greek Government to throw in their lot with Triple
Alliance and apparently wish them to attack Servia, or at least allow
Bulgaria to do so in order to divert Servian army from Austrian frontier.
German Emperor, too, has sent repeated telegrams to King of Greece appealing
to family ties, and threatening permanent rupture of personal relations if
Greece does not comply. Emperor’s introduction of personal element is deeply
resented by Greek Government, and even by the King. German overtures have
been firmly declined on the ground of treaty engagements.
So far no bait has been offered, but M.
Venizelos believes German Minister intends to make a proposal this
afternoon. On my urging him to stand firm, his Excellency asked me to assure
you that in no circumstances, and no matter how great an inducement might be
offered, would Greece range herself against a combination of Powers
including Great Britain. When I informed him of state of war with Germany,
he expressed the greatest satisfaction, considering that England’s
intervention will save Europe from either German or Slav hegemony.
His Excellency does not see what
inducements could be offered to Turkey unless at expense of Greece, but
thinks that possibly Greek Minister may have been deliberately misled by
German Government as to convention [with Turkey] in order to frighten Greece
into compliance with their wishes.
Venizelos withheld two vital pieces of information: the
Turco-German alliance was referred to as a less alarming ‘military
convention’ and, more seriously, he made no mention of the destination of
Goeben and Breslau which he must have been aware of; he then
tried to undermine the report by hypothesizing that Theotokis had been
deliberately misled. Venizelos was well aware of the political leanings in
Constantinople following his abortive quest to meet the Grand Vizier, yet he
consciously played down this information. Like Kerr, but for different
reasons, he had decided to keep quiet about Souchon’s orders to proceed to
Constantinople.
At the same time, Souchon, having arrived
at Messina, soon became aware that due to the time limit placed upon him by
the Italian authorities he would be unable to fill his bunkers with
sufficient coal to allow for a margin of error should he reach the
Dardanelles and find his way blocked. He had to have another source of coal
en-route. On the afternoon of 5 August he cabled the German Legation in
Athens with instructions to purchase 800 tons of coal and have it dispatched
in a German collier to rendezvous with him off Cape Malea. The cable was
handed to the German Minister, Quadt, late than night. Aware of the
restrictions placed upon the exportation of coal by the Greek Government,
and also of the urgency of the request, Quadt asked for, and was granted, an
immediate audience with Venizelos despite the lateness of the hour — now
approaching 2 o’clock on the morning of 6 August. Roused from his slumber
Venizelos agreed ‘at once’ to the release and exportation of 800 tons from
the sequestrated stock of a German coal company.
Quadt left clutching Venizelos’ calling card, on which the Prime Minster had
scrawled ‘Eleutherios Venizelos begs the Master of the Port of Piraeus to
allow the coal merchant Plok to dispose out of the coal in his possession
eight hundred tons in favour of the German steamers actually in the Port of
Piraeus.’
This was despite the prohibition that had been placed on the sale of coal by
private individuals.
Plok was located and dragged from his bed at 4 a.m. and the coal was duly
loaded on to the German collier Bogados;
however, such activity could not escape the notice of the British consul at
Piraeus who informed both the Admiral Superintendent, Malta (at 7.30 a.m., 7
August) and Mr Erskine (1 p.m., 7 August) that the Bogados after
loading ‘about 700 tons of German coal’ had left at daybreak, destination
unknown.
There was a report that the ship had been supplied with false papers showing
her destination as Cape Town, the significance of this being that, as she
was allegedly headed for a British port, she was more likely to pass
unmolested through either Suez or Gibraltar. Whatever precautions were taken
in Piraeus, once under way the collier was camouflaged so as to resemble a
Greek ship and would sail for her rendezvous with Souchon as the
Polymitis.
If Venizelos did not know the precise
destination of the Bogados he nevertheless knew where her coal was
destined for: the bunkers of Goeben and Breslau. The urgency
of Quadt’s appeal, coupled with his knowledge from Theotokis of the route
the German ships would be taking, must have left him in no doubt whatsoever
that he was supplying vital fuel to the fleeing warships. Indeed the Prime
Minister later made this admission to his colleagues but excused it on the
specious pretext that, having agreed to supply coal for the British
men-of-war, Greece would be failing in her duty as a neutral not to do the
same for the Germans
— a sentiment which sits uneasily alongside his earlier effusion to Erskine.
For Souchon the equation was simple: ‘Everything’, he later recorded,
‘depended on my being able to obtain enough start on the pursuing British to
enable us to coal en route, and that we would find at least one of the
colliers ordered to meet us.’
Souchon had three colliers in readiness — first, Bogados; then a
second to rendezvous 20 miles south of Santorin (from 10 August); and a
third at Chanak at the entrance to the Straits.
Of the three Bogados – now disguised as the Greek Polymitis
down to the cap ribbons of her crew
– was by far the most important. What precious thoughts whirled through the
mind of Venizelos as he returned to his bed in the small hours of 6 August?
Later that day the Council of Ministers
met under the King’s presidency to decide on Greece’s policy. Streit, the
Foreign Minister, believed that Greece should do nothing and wait for
proposals to be made by all the belligerents. Venizelos, aware of the Turco-German
alliance, advocated a more forward policy safe in the knowledge that
Goeben and Breslau were nearing their destination — with his
help. Ignoring the Central Powers, Venizelos declared, ‘We will not wait to
be invited by the Entente allies, we must ask for their proposals.’
The deciding factor for the Prime Minister had been the expiration of the
British ultimatum to Germany on the night of 4/5 August: whatever setbacks
may occur in Central Europe, Venizelos was convinced of an eventual Entente
victory.
Ironically, Churchill was independently lobbying the Foreign Office on
Greece’s behalf — on 8 August, as one of his Admiralty clerks mistakenly
diverted Milne to the Adriatic by prematurely declaring war on Austria,
Churchill entreated Grey:
Greece is an important factor in the Medn. and we greatly
desire that if possible she shd be brought into the alliance against
Germany. When M Venizelos was last here he made earnest request for an
alliance which it was not then possible to accede to. But it is hoped by the
Admiralty that this may now be reconsidered. The Greek fleet comprises 3
ships & an excellent flotilla all under British officers. They have the best
harbour & the key to the Adriatic. If Greece will join England & France (&
we could surely make her a good offer) the Medn situation will be absolutely
satisfactory.
What, then, were Venizelos’
motives for aiding and abetting the escape of the German ships to Turkey?
There was no dispute as to his strong pro-Entente sympathies yet, within the
space of 48 hours, he had neglected to pass on vital information regarding
the destination of Goeben and Breslau; had deliberately played
down the reports being picked up by the entente representatives in Athens of
a Turco-German compact; and had supplied coal to the fleeing ships. It would
seem that – at least in relation to the last action – Venizelos realized he
had gone too far and, before the mystery of Goeben ‘coaling at Syra’,
the first false trail suddenly emanated from Athens. The consul at Piraeus
had correctly apprised Malta at 7.30 on the morning of Friday 7th that
Bogados was a German collier carrying German coal to an unknown
destination. This was precisely the sort of information that was vital to
Milne and, indeed, later that morning, Milne specifically requested the
Minister in Athens to ‘make particular enquiries if any German colliers in
Greek ports and islands.’ There is, however, no evidence available that
Malta passed on the consul’s information to Milne. The consul himself then
notified Erskine in Athens at 1 o’clock on the afternoon of the 7th that, on
his own initiative, he had telegraphed the information regarding Bogados
to Malta. The knowledge that Bogados had been correctly identified as
German must have set alarm bells ringing in Athens as, some time that
afternoon or evening, the Legation was informed that Bogados was
supposedly an Austrian collier proceeding to Salonica and this faulty
intelligence was passed on to Milne.
Who supplied the Athens legation with this false information, and why? Add
to this the transformation of Admiral Kerr’s accurate message that night
that Goeben was near Syra to the message which reached Milne, via St
Petersburg and London, a day and a half later that Goeben was coaling
at Syra (presumably appropriating at gunpoint the stocks of British coal
Milne knew to be there) and it becomes apparent that someone was anxious to
disguise the source of Souchon’s coal.
Who, then, would have the most pressing
need to divert attention away from the humble Bogados and her
precious cargo? None other than Eleutherios Venizelos, an accusation
strengthened by the disingenuousness of his approach to Erskine on 10 August
(as reported to Grey that evening):
Monsieur Venizelos asked me to-day whether H.M.G. would
prefer that Greek Government should adopt principle of giving belligerent
ships enough coal to take them to nearest home port or refuse all
facilities. I said that as British and French ships in Mediterranean largely
outnumbered German and Austrian I thought H.M.G. would prefer former
alternative but that I would ask your instructions. At the request of
Commander-in-Chief have just arranged for purchase of further 2,000 tons at
Syra.
This was, of course, some days after Venizelos had
already determined on precisely what action he would take: he was now
seeking retrospective approval of his actions from the British, and in this
he was to be successful. When the matter was subsequently raised in the
House of Commons in 1923 the Under Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,
McNeil, declared that,
There is no reason to doubt that coal was supplied to the
Goeben and Breslau by the order of M. Venizelos, but I ought
to state that at the beginning of hostilities with Germany and, therefore,
before giving this order, M. Venizelos went out of his way to consult His
Majesty’s Government as to the course which he should adopt in such
circumstances. After full consideration His Majesty’s Government suggested
to him that he should follow the principle of International Law and afford
belligerent ships enough coal to take them to their nearest home port.
British ships were similarly treated and supplied with coal by the Greeks,
who were at that time neutral.
McNeil was incorrect. He had confused the inquiry from
Venizelos of 3 August 1914 concerning the sequestration of coal stocks – the
only inquiry from that quarter before Venizelos authorized the delivery of
coal to Quadt – with the later inquiry, of 10 August, concerning the
position to be adopted with regard to belligerent vessels. The advice of His
Majesty’s Government on this subject was tendered only after Goeben
and Breslau were safely tucked away in the haven of the Dardanelles.
Venizelos’ clever approach to the artless Mr Erskine on the 10th had,
apparently, worked; but his reputation was not safe yet.
The Prime Minister later accused King
Constantine, in league with Admiral Kerr and the General Staff, of acting
treacherously with the certain consequence, he argued, that distrust of
Greek intentions was fomented in London. The inevitable repercussion of
this, according to Venizelos, was the refusal in 1915 of the Allies to seek
Greek assistance ‘for the obvious reason that they did not trust our General
Staff not to give the enemy notice of the attack.’
However, it was Venizelos himself who had three imperative motives for
wanting Goeben and Breslau to reach Constantinople. Believing
– following Quadt’s nocturnal visit – that Souchon was short of coal, the
prospect of the German ships putting in to neutral Athens to coal, only to
have them interned there should the British establish a blockade, must have
been alarming to Venizelos to say the least. It is clear, for example, that
Milne presumed that, once Souchon had entered the Aegean, one of the few
options available to the German Admiral was to seek refuge in a Greek port.
Whenever it suited him, Venizelos played on the King’s alleged German
proclivities to win support for his own cause. Thoughts of a palace inspired
coup against him, supported by the guns of the Mittelmeerdivision,
would have been all the prompting Venizelos required to send Quadt on his
way with a simple message on the back of a calling card and the expression
of the Premier’s ‘friendliest intentions’ towards Germany.
Second, if the Turks were wavering at the
prospect of their new allegiance, the presence of Goeben and
Breslau in the Golden Horn would have signalled the unequivocal alliance
of Turkey with Germany, would have jolted Greek public opinion (which was
tired of war and remained neutralist in the current crisis) and, if
Venizelos played his cards right and could win support from the Entente,
would have given him a chance at last to put an end to the Ottoman Empire,
keep the Aegean Islands and perhaps, just perhaps, march on Constantinople.
As evidence of this, once the German ships had arrived in the Golden Horn,
the Venizelist newspaper Patris began the process of forming public
opinion: by arming the enemies of Greece it declared, Germany had departed
from the benevolent neutrality Greece had shown to Germany. Later, citing
the fictitious sale of the German ships to Turkey as a move directed against
Greece, the paper advocated Greek entry into the War.
In gambling so, Venizelos was applying the same logic as Ponceau in the Quai
d’Orsay who, on 10 August, declared to Isvolsky, the Russian Ambassador,
that ‘it might be advantageous for us to draw Turkey to the number of our
enemies in order to make an end of her.’
Third, a revivified Turkish navy, manned
by German officers, and with the addition of a first rate battle cruiser and
cruiser, would have been overwhelmingly powerful in the Black Sea and
therefore able to forestall a Russian descent on Constantinople, leaving the
way clear for the Greeks to achieve their ambition, while the Aegean would
have been out of bounds to the German ships due to the presence of the
British and French navies in addition to the Greek. By ensuring that
Goeben and Breslau made it safely through the Dardanelles
Venizelos was also ensuring that their future radius of action would be
limited to the Black Sea.
In fairness to both Venizelos and Kerr,
however, it should be added that there was a possibility that, even if the
Kaiser himself had cabled Grey with news of the Turco-German alliance, the
Foreign Secretary might still have been sceptical. While acknowledging the
vital part played by the German ships, Grey later wrote that:
We did not know at the time that Turkey already had a
secret treaty binding her to join Germany; in my opinion that makes little
difference. There was always a great power of inertia in the Turkish
Government, and if things had not gone well for Germany in the first year of
the war, and if the two German cruisers and their crews had not got to
Constantinople and stayed there, the Turks might have been a long time
before they acted on that treaty, or might never have acted upon it at all.
Without knowing of the treaty, we knew well enough that some of the most
influential Turks were fanatically pro-German, and we knew what the
influence of Germany was at Constantinople. Knowledge of the treaty would
not have made much difference; we feared the worst, even without knowing of
the treaty.
Unfortunately, Grey’s effort to absolve the Foreign
Office contained a clear contradiction — if, he claims with justification,
the German ships had not completed their escape the Turks might have avoided
indefinitely their treaty obligations. Yet surely knowledge of the treaty on
5 August – particularly when coupled with other information available –
would, if passed to Milne in time, at least have given the British
Mediterranean Squadron a fighting chance to intercept and destroy Goeben
and Breslau.