CHAPTER X: ROME, 1915
Salandra was now enabled to form a more homogeneous administration with his old friend and political ally, Sonnino, at the Foreign Office. The retention in the Cabinet of that stanch advocate of intervention, Ferdinando Martini, was symptomatic, and I had reason to believe that the new War Minister was in close accord with the chief of the staff, General Cadorna, whose chief preoccupation was to make good certain deficiencies in his artillery. If he still encountered obstruction, it certainly did not arise from the new Minister of the Treasury, Signor Carcano, a sincere patriot, whose competence in the business of his department, combined with a great charm of manner, won for him a sympathetic reception on his subsequent visits to London.
It was a great relief to me to have Sonnino at the Foreign
Office. We had known each other for many years, and had mutual
confidence in each other's discretion. Sonnino once observed to
me : "I may not always say everything that is in my mind,
but I have a natural indisposition to lie." He could not
have better summarized his ministerial attitude. The day after
his appointment he paid me a long visit, and I found little difficulty
In drawing him out of his habitual reserve. Sonnino had been a
zealous upholder of the Triple Alliance, and his straightforward
nature had been disturbed by its apparent repudiation on the 2nd
of August. He had at first assumed that Italy would have to stand
by her allies. But his hesitations with regard to her obligation
did not outlast his realization of the aggressive character of
the war on which the central empires had embarked, and the violation
of neutralities to which Italy would not have made herself a consenting
party. There was never any doubt in my mind as to where his own
personal sympathies lay, and now the forced entry of Turkey into
the arena had strengthened his antagonism to the former allies.
He was at that time not without hope that the old Balkan League
might be reconstituted, and he discussed the possibility of giving
satisfaction to Bulgaria, still smarting from the recent settlement,
by considerable concessions especially in Macedonia. He was very
well informed on the whole Balkan situation, and his anxiety from
the first, that the Allies should spare no efforts to prevent
Bulgaria from gravitating to the side of the enemy was one of
the indications from which I inferred that he definitely contemplated
co-operation. Even at this interview he admitted the possibility
that Turkey's unprovoked aggression might precipitate Italian
action. But he said that so far as he had then been able to take
stock of the situation, the preparedness of the country was not
sufficiently advanced for intervention to be contemplated, nor
was the actual moment, with winter closing in on the northern
Alpine frontier, opportune for any initiative. He foresaw that
the war was going to be a long one, and he could not but believe
that circumstances might at any moment force his country to take
a decisive step. He therefore felt that it was urgent to prepare
some definite plan for eventual concerted action, to which a binding
form could be given rapidly when the moment arrived, perhaps more
suddenly than we then anticipated.
While the official attitude thus appeared not unpropitious,
the neutralist combination was gathering strength, and my information
indicated that a number of the clergy were exercising influence
in that direction. Though the Government continued to extend the
list of non-exportable commodities in a manner which could only
be satisfactory to us, a good deal of strong feeling was aroused
by the detention of raw material until innocent destination could
be proved. One of the principal industrial banks which had owed
its inception to German encouragement, and the advance of a moderate
amount of German capital withdrawn as soon as the bank became
strong enough to carry on with local resources, was still at that
time administered by a triumvirate which had tap-roots in Berlin,
and the considerable influence which it exercised on the commercial
community was likely to become yet more adverse to the Allies
if the interests of the companies which it had financed were menaced.
It was represented to me from a high quarter that the non-arrival
of the primary material of industry might load to the closing
of factories, and so affect the goodwill of the masses towards
the Allies. Another of the grievances most frequently advanced
was the interception of commercial telegrams by a zealous censorship.
The resulting discontent was studiously exploited in the limited
number of journals which our adversaries were successful in inspiring.
Capel-Cure was invaluable to me in making the real difficulties
of our position known to the mercantile community and exhorting
them to patience. But I had to be importunate in pressing the
home authorities not to delay releases unduly, the more so after
a significant observation of Sonnino, in the early days of 1915,
to the effect that it was essential that the irritation caused
by the detention of cargoes should quiet down before the approach
of spring.
My friend Thomas Nelson Page also rather alarmed me with reports
of protests from the cotton interest in the United States against
the stringency of our contraband rules. As a Virginian he would
not be likely to minimize the prejudice to the market. His feelings
on this subject in talking to others must have been rather outspoken,
for it was once suggested to me that his attitude was more hostile
than sympathetic to us. There could not have been a more erroneous
appreciation. The American Ambassador was most discreet and scrupulous
to observe the attitude becoming the representative of a neutral
power. But it needed no special gift of diagnosis to perceive
what his real feelings were. Mrs. Page, who had a daughter married
in England, found it more difficult with her spontaneous frankness
to disguise the emotions of a very warm and kindly heart. In those
early days of strain and anxiety, Page's genuine friendship and
quiet common-sense were very helpful to me, and it was a great
relief occasionally to break away from the atmosphere of preoccupation
which, however studiously we sought to disguise it, prevailed
at our Embassy, and to dine at his hospitable house. Virginia
hams, of which he had a stock in reserve, will for me always bring
back associations of the Great War. The recollections of Page's
boyhood went back to the days of the civil war, and his memory
of the inevitable tendency in such abnormal times to give way
to a spirit of exaggeration and prejudice was valuable to me as
a warning. Both the Pages are, alas, now long since dead. But
I shall ever retain in grateful memory the kindly sympathy they
gave us in the days when we needed it most.
About half-way through December Prince Bülow arrived,
with the rank of a special Ambassador, in Rome, whence he wrote
on the 24th to Erzberger in a pessimistic tone regarding the ground
lost by Germany in Italian opinion during recent weeks. [Erlebnisse
im Weltkrieg, M. Erzberger, 1920, p. 23.] The regular representative
of Germany, Herr von Flotow, remained in the capital for a short
time longer, and then withdrew, leaving the field clear for the
ex-chancellor. It was hoped that Bülow, with his great authority
and family connections, might succeed in dissuading Italy from
abandoning her neutrality and entering the war on the side of
the Allies. This was the utmost which the central empires could
now hope to achieve. If Austria-Hungary, whose diplomatic representatives
in Rome frequented social circles of pronounced neutralist character,
in which curiously enough certain ladies connected with the Court
were conspicuous, could still cherish illusions as to the ultimate
gravitation of Italy, Germany seems not long to have remained
in doubt that the end in view could only be achieved by substantial
concessions at the expense of her ally.
My former intimacy with the Bülows made it the more disagreeable
for me to find myself engaged in a duel with an old friend. The
Prussian Minister to the Vatican lived exactly opposite our Embassy,
and I had been habitually meeting him in the street. Now it became
inevitable that in some of my almost daily visits to the Foreign
Office I should see my chief antagonist in one of the ante-rooms.
At the King's reception on New Year's Day, at which each diplomatic
mission is received separately, there was, as we entered the assembling
room, a skilful shuffling of the representatives awaiting their
turn, and the German Embassy appeared to be much interested in
the view from the windows.
To my great distress, moreover, not very long afterwards the
French Ambassador became rather seriously unwell. After many years
of intimacy I had felt I could draw upon his great experience---he
had been nearly twenty years in Rome---as on a blank cheque. A
long residence in England in early youth had given him a capacity
rare in his countrymen for understanding the British temperament,
which at such a time was a valuable asset. Shortly before the
outbreak of war he had met with a serious motor accident entailing
great loss of blood, and before he could recover his normal health,
overwork, and the depressing conditions in the battle area seemed
to threaten a general breakdown. Happily, however, his great vitality
enabled him to make a rapid recovery, and he was not long out
of action. But for a short time I felt very much alone, the more
so as my Russian colleague, Kroupensky, though the best of fellows
in all personal relations, was excitable and emotional, and I
realized that Sonnino was reluctant to take him into confidence.
He was before very long replaced by the former Russian Ambassador
at Constantinople, M. de Giers, whose clear and well-balanced
mind made him an admirable representative of his country throughout
the war, and not least in that grim final stage which he confronted
with a dignity which commanded our admiration.
Just before Christmas my eldest son started for the Front:
having completed his artillery training at Aldershot. The letter
in which he announced his departure concluded, "I am so happy
to be out at last that I don't know what to say." That was
the spirit with which our boys went to France. Another, of the
26th of December, describing Christmas in camp, ended with the
words, "I am sure I shall come back safe and sound."
How many must have sent that message in their first letter from
the Front!
For us Christmas and the New Year were enlivened by the arrival
of our four younger children. They safely accomplished the first
of a series of journeys which were a recurring source of anxiety
to my wife and myself, but always a new adventure to the young
people, who became past-masters in the experience of war-time
travelling and intimate with all the authorities along the line.
The crossing to Southampton remained open throughout the war,
and at Havre, where a night had generally to be spent, they could
count on friendly assistance from Sir Francis Villiers, our Minister
to Belgium, who had established his Legation there.
Just before eight o'clock on the morning of the 8th of January,
1915, we experienced a severe shock of earthquake in Rome. Experts
described it as an undulatory shock of the 7th magnitude. It was
reported to have lasted fifteen seconds. To us it seemed much
longer. Having retired at a very late hour on the previous night
I had only just risen and, for a moment, I attributed the difficulty
which I found in standing to my being only half awake. Then I
saw the lantern which hung from the ceiling swinging violently,
and realized what was happening. I placed my wife momentarily
under an archway which was likely to resist even if the walls
yielded. The children were in a wing at some distance, where the
mezzanino rooms were strengthened by vaulting. They seemed,
when we reached them, more interested than scared by the experience.
Fortunately, beyond a few cracks in the newer part of the building,
the Embassy did not suffer. Rome on the whole escaped with little
damage. One of the colossal statues over the tympanum of St. John
Lateran fell to the ground, and was shattered. There were settlements
of some gravity in houses in the old city. The strangest phenomenon
reported was that the bronze St. Paul on the top of the column
of Antoninus in the Piazza Colonna took a half-turn to the left.
When it was originally placed there at the end of the sixteenth
century by the architect Fontana, the statue had faced the Piazza
del Popolo. This did not satisfy Sixtus V, who had the scaffolding
reconstructed in order to make it look towards the Vatican Basilica.
That it should now have more directly turned its back on the Austro-Hungarian
Embassy in Palazzo Chigi was accepted as a significant omen by
the population which crowded to the square to verify the rumour.
Unfortunately, in the Abruzzi province, the shock had been
far more severe, especially at Avezzano and several smaller villages.
The death-roll was heavy, and though it seemed small as compared
with the terrible mortality at Messina and Reggio in 1908, the
percentage of the village populations which perished was probably
not less. The King was among the first to reach the stricken district,
and a volunteer service of motor-cars and ambulances was rapidly
organized. The pontiff placed the Hospital of St. Martha at the
service of the injured who were brought into the city, and if
it was true, as I was informed, that he personally inspected the
wards in preparation, he must have left the actual precincts of
the Vatican to do so. This disaster was a blow to the country
on the eve of entering the valley of decision.
About this time the danger arising from the well-meant zeal
of the amateur diplomatist was first brought home to me. During
a journey from Salonika to Piraeus two members of the Balkan Committee
who had been visiting Bulgaria and Roumania found themselves in
the company of a traveller, a priest, whom they evidently assumed
to be a Hungarian. He had indeed been a Hungarian subject, being
a Roumanian of Transylvania. But his political antecedents had
involved years of detention in Magyar prisons. With this fellow
voyager it seems that one of our Balkan experts began to discuss
the future attitude of Roumania, suggesting that she was bound
to extend eventually over Bessarabia and even beyond. The priest,
who drew up a full report of this conversation, a copy of which
soon afterwards came into my possession, observed that. in his
opinion Roumania was much more concerned about Transylvania and
the regions where the population was essentially Roumanian. The
British traveller replied that any ambitions in that direction
would certainly be opposed by Great Britain, who would never permit
the destruction or even the weakening of Hungary, an indispensable
buffer between the Slavs of the north and those of the south.
He was, according to the report, not very well informed as to
the real numerical strength of the Magyar element in the kingdom
of Hungary. It was only when the discussion shifted to the religious
orientation of the Roumanians that the amateur diplomatist seems
to have discovered that he had been talking to a Transylvanian
of Roumanian stock. After that there was no further exchange of
political opinions. The priest in question, whose name and career
would be familiar to those who have studied Near Eastern questions,
was in intimate relations with M. Bratiano, for whom I gathered
the report in question was destined. Unfortunately, the Balkan
Committee was believed in those regions, as the Minister in Rome
informed me, to have official status or encouragement. I cannot
of course vouch for the accuracy of the report which he drew up
of this conversation, but even if it gave undue colour to some
casual observations, the fact that such a report was forwarded
to Bucharest illustrates the danger at critical moments of discussing
political issues with chance acquaintances. The alleged determination
of Great Britain to maintain a strong Hungary as a barrier between
the northern and the southern Slavs would not be calculated to
stimulate favourably a Government standing at the cross-roads.
A well-known Scotch writer on Balkan questions, who arrived not
long afterwards in Rome from Roumania, told me he had found this
belief regarding the attitude of Great Britain widely diffused
in that country, and that it caused some want of confidence in
the Allies. Nor would the dissemination of such opinions have
been particularly serviceable just then in Italy. But fortunately
the travellers, when they passed through Rome, did not press for
an interview with the Minister for Foreign Affairs.
I was greatly interested in the beginning of February to receive
from Nelson Page a full account of an after-dinner conversation
which he had in his own house with Bülow, who had not hesitated
to denounce the incapacity of Berlin in allowing war to break
out. Page was anxious to put before him the views of the average
American in the hope that they might give food for reflection.
He therefore began by asking the Prince when he thought peace
might be anticipated. Bülow regarded the date as still remote,
and enquired what Page thought himself. He replied that he believed
it to be Germany's interest to find some means of opening negotiations
as quickly as possible. "But how," said Bülow,
"can we bring public opinion to look for peace when our people
believe they have won ?" Page rejoined that his people only
believed what they were allowed to believe. He would for a moment
drop all considerations of official position and speak as a simple
man who, not being directly engaged in the war and having no reason
to colour judgment with hope, tried to see facts in their naked
reality. "Your people," he repeated, "only believe
what they are told. You and I know better. In this war you can
never win. You cannot crush nations. Even if you got to Paris
you would be no nearer your goal." Here Bülow interrupted,
saying that Germany had no animosity against France. "But,"
Page rejoined, "the French have against the Germans, and
every day you are intensifying that bitterness. As to England,
who should be your natural ally, consider the position you are
making for yourselves in public opinion there. You are piling
up a heritage of hatred which will blight the future of Germany.
You can never crush England, and you know it. Her own vast resources
have only begun to be tapped, and then there are the millions
of Canada and of Australia and New Zealand. Nor could Germany
herself be crushed out of existence. Nations will subsist, and
one must look ahead to their future relations. You are raising
up a world of enemies against yourselves and, as I see it, you
must make peace before matters have been brought to a pass which
will compromise the future for an indefinite time." Bülow
then asked him what he would consider possible bases of peace.
Page answered that he foresaw two indispensable conditions, of
which the first must be "that you must make complete reparation
to Belgium." He told me that on hearing these words the ex-chancellor
leaned back in his chair and looked at him as a man might who
had received a blow between the eyes. After a pause he said: "But
our people all think that reparation is due from Belgium to us."
Page returned to his former position: "Your people believe
what they have been told to believe. They know only what the censor
allows them to know."
"That," Bülow admitted, "is true. And what
do you consider the other indispensable condition to be?"
The answer was, "Disarmament." The Prince quite candidly
stated that he regarded disarmament as out of the question. After
the war was over there would be, he held, a tendency rather to
increase and perfect armament. "If that," said Page,
"is the view held in Germany, then there seems nothing for
it but that the war should continue. But you will gain nothing
by it and will only add to your difficulties by prolonging it."
This conversation was of course much ampler than its brief record,
and Page seems to have expressed his convictions with frankness
and force.
The suggestion that public opinion in Germany regarded reparations
to be due from Belgium reminded me of Hindenburg's laconic justification
of the violation of neutrality, "it was necessary."
Evidently we were very far away from any basis of peace so
long as a mentality prevailed which could allow men, normally
right-minded in the everyday relations of life, to claim that
the advantage of Germany must override obligations of honour and
justice.
I was much impressed with the strident contrast between the
mental attitude fostered under a Prussian hegemony which found
its ultimate expression in hymns of hate, and the sentiment expressed
in a letter written about this time by a member of one of the
ruling houses in Germany, which was given me to read. The writer
of the letter, which though not addressed to an Englishman was
written in English, was unknown to me personally, but I had always
heard him described as a singularly attractive character with
strong Liberal tendencies. I shall hardly be committing an indiscretion
in reproducing one or two sentences which struck me, as they are
wholly to the writer's credit and profoundly interesting as revealing
a standpoint very different from that to which I have just referred.
A similar spirit no doubt moved a great mass of the German people,
who, as Bülow admitted, only believed what they were told
to believe and therefore did not doubt the justice of their cause.
He wrote : "This war is giving us worlds of knowledge, and
opens to our blind eyes insights into human nature, heart and
soul of unaccountable value. . . . Yes, it is a great and beautiful
thing to live in a country fighting for its existence, if one
is able to take the highest point of view, which excludes hatred
towards one's enemies. One learns to be satisfied, and one is
taught a great lesson in love. None of us wanted this war, neither
the Emperor, whom you make accountable for it nor our army. This
is the great moral background on which the regeneration of our
country is taking place. It gives the clue to the singular unity
and cheerful simplicity of our people. These things are questions
of experience, and discussion would be useless. I am quite convinced
that France has the same mentality from its own point of view."
I should not be disposed to contest the belief which this letter
implies that the mass of the German people did not want the war.
But they had accepted without protest over a number of years a
direction by the governing classes which was to make war in the
long run inevitable, while the rampant affirmation of Deutschland
über Alles was hardly consistent with goodwill towards
other men. My views, however, of the responsibilities of the dominant
element in Germany have been fully expressed in Chapter VIII.
The substance of not a few other conversations of Bülow
with deputies and senators was spontaneously repeated to me. I
have never had much faith in information procured by the surreptitious
means which diplomatists are popularly believed to employ. Hints
and insinuations about the millions spent by Great Britain for
her own sinister purposes had been familiar all my life. The German
chancellor was shortly to proclaim that the chief members of the
Italian Cabinet had been bought with the gold of the Entente.
The practical humorists who invented the phrase perfide
Albion discovered another not less useful in its picturesque
suggestiveness, la cavalerie de St. Georges. During the
thirty years of my career previous to the outbreak of war the
only payments of such a nature which I remember making were in
Africa, where small rewards were paid to agents for information
which led to the detection of violations of the slave-trade regulations.
Since the declaration of war my only exceptional demands on the
Treasury had been for an inconsiderable sum to defray the cost
of translating and printing documents. It would in any case have
been superfluous to explore indirect channels. I felt myself in
an atmosphere of friendship. Reports, which seemed the more trustworthy
because their communication was unsolicited, were continually
brought to me even in regard to such details as the amounts drawn
from banks by our opponents for propaganda purposes or for influencing
the Press. Happily in the latter respect Italian journalism has
an honourable tradition. Individual corruption is rare, and seldom
escapes suspicion. A few conspicuous exceptions were so notorious
that they came, like brigandage In the old papal states, to be
regarded as tolerated institutions. Under those conditions it
was a question whether their services were worth their price.
On the other hand, it was not difficult for those interested in
doing so to stimulate in the Press the inevitable discontent which
our supervision of contraband entailed, and it was necessary to
be constantly ready with facts and figures to correct misrepresentations.
It was only late at night that I could find time to work on
my reports, as almost the whole of the day, not spent at the Ministries
or in consultation with my colleagues, had to be devoted to receiving
a constant stream of visitors. These were of course not all inspired
by purely benevolent motives. Discretion in the language used
was sometimes necessary. But the diplomatist of long experience
has his intuitions, and like the spiritual missionary acquires
a sort of flair as to who is susceptible of conversion. The general
tenor of the information which I received regarding the activities
of our enemies in Italy after the battle of the Marne pointed
to a growing anxiety in Germany over the eventual outcome of the
war, and there was evidence to show that the financial and industrial
community there was beginning already to take a gloomy view of
prospects. But the military despotism was now omnipotent.
I must give Bülow all credit for the discernment which
he displayed in his methods. He seems throughout to have been
handicapped by the incapacity of his allies to see things as they
were. I have referred to the evident strength of the neutralist
group and the influence exercised on the peasantry by many of
the priests who preached that peace was the desire of the Church.
They were no doubt enabled to quote the assurances given to a
Cabinet Minister, from whom I learnt them, that Germany would
now very quickly dispose of Russia, and that France was already
exhausted and weary of war. If it was admitted that Great Britain
would present a tougher problem, such an admission could also
serve a useful purpose by inducing reflection that the war might
yet be of long duration. When the ground seemed propitious and
occasion appropriate a more direct lever of intimidation might
be applied to "persons of importance." The eminent economist
and former Prime Minister, Luigi Luzzatti, during occasional visits
in the spring of 1915, spoke to me ominously more than once of
terrible things which he knew the Germans to be preparing against
us. He begged me to believe that he had good authority for the
warning which he thus passed on. It was, I knew, conveyed in the
most friendly spirit, and Luzzatti had evidently been scared,
but in view of the vagueness of the menace I could only assure
him that we were not easily intimidated. It was not till much
later, after Italy had entered into the war, that he explained
himself more fully. It then came out that Bülow and Mühlberg,
the Prussian Minister to the Holy See, had paid him a visit, in
the course of which they had disclosed the Tirpitz project to
destroy not only the British Fleet, but also our whole mercantile
navy by submarine attack on a vast scale. They had, he said, announced
with evident satisfaction that by such means the British Empire
was about to be annihilated. He had protested with all the eloquence
at his command, asking how they could desire to overthrow that
great country which had carried civilization over the world and
had established law and justice for primitive peoples. Thereupon
he said that Bülow, realizing that he had perhaps opened
in the wrong key, endeavoured to pass the matter off with a laugh
which did not ring very true, and pretended that he had only been
trying to draw out his host. This was not the only case within
my knowledge in which a member of the German Embassy spoke to
neutrals of a grim destiny overshadowing Great Britain. Too much
must not be made of what people say for their own ends in war
time, but the interest of this conversation is the evidence which
it offers that the indiscriminate and unrestricted use of the
submarine had been premeditated from the first.
Meanwhile, it was made clear to the right people that Germany
would endeavour to obtain as the price of Italy's neutrality the
surrender of the Trentino and a rectification of frontier on the
Isonzo, concessions no doubt of great importance, but wholly inadequate,
as it proved, to stem the growing tide in favour of intervention.
In regard to Trieste, Germany was just as little inclined as Austria
was to consider its cession to Italy. To secure the acceptance
of any such offer it would be necessary to gain the suffrages
of a majority in the Chamber. This entailed making sure of at
least the tacit support of Giolitti, whose mysterious influence
over individual deputies and groups seldom failed, when he elected
to exercise it, to rally some three-fifths of their number to
his side. Many rumours were circulated at this time regarding
visits exchanged between Bülow and Giolitti. In his memoirs
Signor Giolitti has categorically stated that he only paid one
visit to the Prince in December 1914, on which occasion discussion
of all delicate questions was avoided. He was away from home when
the visit was returned. They did not meet again till 1922. The
legends therefore which grew up regarding their personal intercourse
must be rejected.
Some colour was however not unnaturally given to the presumption
that Giolitti was familiar with Bülow's proposals by a letter
which the former wrote to his friend and quondam chef de cabinet,
Signor Peano, on the 24th of January, 1915, with a view to
its publication. In this letter he repudiated the reports of his
relations with the special German Ambassador, and also described
his alleged policy of neutrality at all costs as a fable. But
this significant phrase occurred: "Given the actual conditions
in Europe, it is my belief that much may be obtained without
going to war, but only those who are in the Government are fully
qualified to judge of this matter." The popular instinct
immediately seized upon the word parecchio, translated
by much in the English version of the memoirs, though it
might be more justly rendered by a certain amount. The
unsentimental suggestion implied in the parecchio di Giolitti,
that Italy's policy should be to obtain something for nothing,
was unsparingly used by his antagonists to discredit the veteran
statesman, who has since frankly admitted and given his reasons
for his opposition to Italy entering the war. I fully accept his
disclaimer of the reported interviews in Rome. But I have always
presumed that Giolitti, in view of the influence he could exercise
and of his consistent advocacy of neutrality, was, vicariously
at any rate, kept fully informed throughout of Bülow's activities
and proposals.
Later, in March, when the Catholic deputy, Erzberger, some
of whose fierce tirades against Great Britain in the Germania
and the Tag I had seen translated in the Italian
Press, was for the second time in Rome, and reported to be endeavouring
to persuade the Vatican to exercise pressure on Francis Joseph
to cede the Trentino, I had myself the opportunity of having an
hour's conversation with Giolitti. It would not have been opportune
that our meeting should have become public property, and with
the exception of those who arranged the interview no one, so far
as I am aware, ever knew that it had taken place. I felt, however,
that it would be unwise in these critical times not to make contact
with a statesman of his authority and position. Giolitti on that
occasion insisted on the paramount importance which the obligations
of loyalty had always had for him. After a good deal of perfectly
amicable fencing without coming to close quarters on a direct
issue, I received the definite impression that he was then as
firmly as ever wedded to neutrality.
The heavy losses of battleships in the attack on the Dardanelles
on the 18th of March, which the presence of a moderate landing
party would have converted into a most successful action, had
an unfortunate moral effect on the hesitating Balkan States and
indeed on the weak-kneed everywhere. But there were compensations,
such as the destruction of the Dresden after her successful
career of commerce-destroying. And now an important step forward
was taken towards the end on which all my thoughts were concentrated.
For, while the efforts of the special Ambassador, of Erzberger
and of the peace party to preserve Italian neutrality were being
daily intensified, negotiations were secretly initiated with the
Italian Government for an agreement which would take immediate
effect in the event of Italy ranging herself in line with the
Allies. It is curious after the event to read in Erzberger's record
of his experiences during the struggle that a deputy with whom
he was intimate informed him that the Italian Government did not
wish for war, [As evidence of this disposition his informant cited
the fact that the Ministry had associated General Porro with the
fire-eating Cadorna in the supreme command. General Porro is described
as mäszig (moderate), and this word would seem to
refer not so much to his opinions as to his military capacity.---Erlebnisse
im Weltkrieg, M. Erzberger, p. 27.] and that Sonnino was more
reluctant than ever. Simultaneously I became aware of certain
unostentatious preparations for future contingencies, such as
the replacement of married by unmarried railway officials in the
Venetian area and a large extension of hospital accommodation
in the big cities. For reasons into which I need not enter the
negotiations which led to the Pact of London were known to the
fewest possible individuals, and the bases of agreement were drafted
in London. I at any rate had now no doubt as to Sonnino's intentions,
nor had I any that he would carry the Ministry with him. But there
remained the graver question of whether they would have the support
of Parliament and of the people. To ensure the latter---and, as
I have already pointed out, it is the people who have the last
word in Italy ---it then seemed essential that the future security
of a country which had lived under the intolerable menace of the
Austrian guns, whether on the northern frontier or in the Adriatic,
should be absolutely guaranteed. No half-measures or inadequate
assurances would command the national adhesion.
Sonnino was in my opinion at that stage genuinely anxious that
no counter-irredentism should be created by the incorporation
of an undue number of non-Italians in the kingdom. But he had
a very definite problem to face. The continuous chain of islands
forming a natural barrier along the eastern shore of the Adriatic,
behind which destroyers and submarines could move and assemble
undetected, had constituted a standing menace to the opposite
defenceless coasts of the Italian peninsula which possessed no
ports worthy of the name between Venice and Brindisi. Vallona
in Albania could not be made available for naval purposes without
an expenditure of many millions, and were it to be permanently
held this would only be as a precautionary measure to prevent
it from falling into other hands. Slavism had always been regarded
as a potential danger, and if Italy was to enter into a combination
in which peoples having rival interests were already engaged,
it would be necessary for her to assure herself that she was not
going to fight for a settlement which might prove to her own ultimate
disadvantage.
It was then still an accepted doctrine that Russia would some
day become a naval factor in the Mediterranean, and, though she
might not be suspected of any design to absorb the southern Slays,
the obligations of racial affinity had already been practically
demonstrated. Italian statesmen were therefore bound to consider
the possibility of the establishment of naval bases independent
of their control which might at a future time become a danger
to their country. The opinion of naval experts was unanimous in
regarding the Cursolan Islands as offering an ideal naval base
and therefore a danger to Italy if left in any other hands. It
was imperative to satisfy Italian exigencies in respect of a position
which was claimed to be a key of the Adriatic. This was therefore
one of the issues on which depended the mobilization of a million
and a half of men, which might moreover, as it seemed then, carry
with it the decision of Roumania, possibly also that of other
Balkan States. The Russian Government, which had on its own initiative
suggested the transfer of Dalmatia to Italy, made difficulties
about the islands, on grounds which were apparently sentimental,
as it seemed hardly probable that her statesmen were contemplating
the remote possibility of reserving them as a naval base. The
attitude of Russia in regard to the co-operation of Italy gave
me at one time considerable anxiety. For Great Britain and France
the future of the islands had little direct interest. Dalmatia,
however, was a thorny question, because while the coastal towns
were Italian in culture and tradition, the hinterland was wholly
Slavonic, and at the same time there was force in the contention
that the two were neither logically nor economically separable.
The unity of Dalmatia was moreover being warmly advocated at home
by a number of travellers and publicists. But at such a moment
sentimental considerations were not very likely to prevail against
practical ones. Probably in the beginning of 1915 no one counted
on the extinction of the Habsburg system. The most sanguine only
looked forward to a sensible diminution of its strength. The contingency
of Croatia being transferred from the dual monarchy to a Jugo-Slav
confederation had not yet been contemplated, and Sonnino was prepared,
with what mental reservations I cannot say, to defer to Russian
opinion and not to insist on the reversion of Fiume. As regards
the islands, however, he was rigidly immovable.
Some other questions besides territorial rectifications were
included in the Pact, which was to be completed by a military
convention. Its terms have now long been known and amply discussed.
If I have referred here to one or two particular issues which
presented difficulty at a critical moment, and which must have
given my friend Imperiali some sleepless nights in London, it
has been rather to emphasize a belief which I have always entertained,
that considerations of security and not imperialist ambition inspired
the Italian statesmen who conducted negotiations.
A suspicion of Imperialism was, I think, too readily entertained
outside Italy by those who did not understand the depth of a sentiment
which claimed the reunion of certain areas, not strictly comprehended
within the geographical limits of the peninsula, but always regarded
as essential outposts ; which owed all the civilization and prosperity
they possessed to Italian tradition, enterprise, and settlement.
It is true there had never been a united Italy after the downfall
of the Western Empire until the nineteenth century. But the municipal
institutions which had been the strength of that Empire, reviving
after the Dark Ages in small states and city republics, had maintained
a sort of common Italian ambience over an even wider area, and
later the links re-established by Venice with the eastern Adriatic
shore had engendered a spirit of kinship rather than of dominion.
A century of Austrian domination in the Narrow Seas had on the
other hand humiliatingly reminded a reunited Italy of an insecurity
of tenure which every patriot ardently desired to see eliminated.
By the beginning of April a stage was reached at which there
was little left to divide us if Russian sentiment did not raise
further obstacles. Meanwhile Germany was urging on a very reluctant
Austria that certain territorial concessions must be made to Italy
forthwith and that it would be fatal to insist on deferring the
surrender of the Trentino until after an eventual peace. I could
not be blind to the fact that Bülow had the support of a
very strong combination which made no secret of their preference
for the parecchio, if it could be secured at once, to the
alternative of War. There was reason to believe that, with the
co-operation of the banking corporation already referred to, strong
influence could be brought to bear on senators and deputies connected
with the many industrial enterprises which it controlled. Giolitti
had been absent from the capital for some weeks ; but the Giolittian
groups began to consolidate themselves. The proverbially hospitable
Villa Malta entertained a constant stream of such guests at dinner
and Princess Bülow held weekly receptions. We felt little
inclination to receive at such a time, especially as many acquaintances
of long standing now seemed separated from us by a wide gulf and
made little secret of the sentiments they entertained towards
those who were shortly to be their own country's allies. Things
were said which it was not easy to forgive, and at this stage
it became impossible to ignore the existence of two opposing camps
in a society, the least useful members of which were the most
outspoken in their hostility towards ourselves. The anonymous
letter is a fairly frequent experience in Italy, and I received
a number of these criticizing my activities. The most interesting
was one which came after the arrest of Casement warning me that
if he were executed I should be killed the following day. On the
other hand, we learned at this time to appreciate our real friends,
and continued to make a host of new ones. My wife felt reluctantly
obliged to follow the example of the Villa Malta. The attendance
at such receptions, after due allowance was made for a permanent
nucleus of partisans, acted as a barometric register of the rise
and fall of our respective stock in social circles.
In the midst of such uncertainties and preoccupations I received
a telegram from Cornwall which left no doubt on my mind that my
mother, who was in her ninetieth year, was dying, and indeed two
days later, on the night of the 16th/17th of April, she passed
away without having been aware that her end was near. It was hard
not to have been able to give the consolation of my presence at
the last to the best of mothers, or to aid my only sister in the
last offices. My father had died in Rome, and it had been her
wish to be buried there also. But the disabilities of war had
made an always difficult problem impossible, and she was laid
to rest with many generations of Rodds at North Hill near Trebartha.
I have in these reminiscences made it a rule as far as possible
to avoid reference to purely personal matters. But I am tempted
to depart from the rule by recording an affectionate testimony
to the remarkable sense of equity and fairness which distinguished
my mother and was, I think, rare in the generation to which she
belonged. My father's estate was left at her disposal for life
in trust, she and I being joint trustees, with ultimate reversion
to my sister and myself. When we had reached a certain age my
mother made up her mind that it was not right or fair that we
should remain indefinitely in a state of dependence on her goodwill.
"Who knows," she said, "what may happen? I might
become eccentric or arbitrary in my old age. And you ought to
be free." She therefore with legal assistance secured the
release from trust of one-half of the estate, which was forthwith
divided between the reversionaries.
On the 26th of April I entered in my diary the two words Nunc
dimittis. I had received the anxiously awaited telegram announcing
the signature of the Pact of London. Its terms, the practical
execution of which would obviously have to depend on the situation
existing after the termination of hostilities, have since been
much criticized, especially by those to whom the ultimate destiny
of the Jugo-Slav peoples seems to have been a paramount consideration.
But no one who reviews without prejudice the position of the Allies
in the early months of 1915, and not least that of Serbia herself,
is entitled to criticize their acceptance by the British Government.
Nor could Italian statesmen have decided to bring a hesitating
and divided nation into a war of such magnitude and danger without
having first obtained assurances believed by them necessary to
safeguard the future of their country, which would be called upon
to make immense sacrifices. There remained certain formulae to
be completed when the opportune moment came, but I felt that we
were now practically in alliance with Italy.
The Government of Signor Salandra, with which I had had the
most cordial relations, now gave me a signal manifestation of
friendship, which I am anxious to acknowledge. They released the
Layard pictures in answer to my renewed request without restrictions
of any kind beyond the obligation of meeting the export duties
which they had no power to remit. While, as I have already pointed
out, our claim to remove from Italy the six gems of the collection
had been already recognized and would not be disputed, I was convinced
that we could not establish any title to override the law of the
land as regards certain other pictures, over which the Department
of Fine Arts, in virtue of subsequent legislation, was able to
exercise a right of pre-emption. In equity the case for the release
of the whole collection was sound. Under the letter of the law
the title to detain a certain number of the pictures was incontestable.
My proposals for a compromise had not been accepted by the trustees
of the National Gallery, who clung to the idea of seeking legal
relief, in which they would certainly have been disappointed.
My friend, the Minister of the Colonies, was now so good as to
urge the matter once more on the Prime Minister, and the release
of the collection was sanctioned as an act of grace largely, I
was given to understand, as a personal favour to myself. The action
thus taken was the more sympathetic, as it entailed a good deal
of criticism from a public not sufficiently well informed to appreciate
the complicated antecedents of the case. To one of the strongest
objectors, the eminent critic, Ugo Ojetti, whose zeal in a cause
he had so much at heart I could not altogether resent, all lovers
of art owe a debt of gratitude for the admirable measures taken
under his supervision to preserve the principal monuments at Venice
and in Northern Italy from aerial bombardment. I was anxious to
have the pictures removed without delay from the proximity of
the frontier, and no time was lost in having them packed and transferred
from the Museo Correr to the Embassy at Rome, where they remained
till they could be sent home.
It now seemed quite justifiable to assume that only a brief
interval of time would suffice to bring to their inevitable conclusion
the discussions with Austria-Hungary which the Minister for Foreign
Affairs had been conducting in an evidently unyielding spirit
regarding the compensations claimed in virtue of the terms of
the Triple Alliance as a consequence of the modification of status
quo in the Balkans. And yet the gravest crisis in the long
battle had still to be affronted.
In this last phase the Italian Government had of course to
act alone, and the enemy's manoeuvres to gain for neutrality the
support of a chamber which was not really representative of the
country seemed about to be crowned with success. The Austro-Hungarian
Government, on the strength of reports received from Rome, continued
up to the last to believe that Italy was only "bluffing,"
and would never go to war. So confident were they in this opinion
that relatively few troops were concentrated on the Italian frontier.
Erzberger, who had been once more summoned to Rome in the first
days of May, complains of the delusions and inactivity of Baron
Macchio, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador. Suddenly at the eleventh
hour the gravity of the situation was brought home to them, and
when it was too late they decided to make larger concessions.
But on the 4th of May the Italian Government notified Vienna that
they withdrew any proposals they had put forward for agreement,
denounced the Treaty of Alliance, and resumed entire liberty of
action. Their intention had been to maintain the strictest secrecy
regarding the action then taken until the meeting of Parliament.
I did not myself learn the formal denunciation of the Triple Alliance
until several days later, when circumstances made it desirable
to take the public into confidence. The enemy missions, having
now realized that it was too late to deflect Salandra and Sonnino
from the course on which they had resolved, rested their hopes
on displacing the Government in office by intriguing with the
opposition. But the people became cognizant of this intrigue,
and then the strength of the popular voice, the ultima ratio
in Italian national life, was revealed.
A majority among the masses had in my opinion been with us
throughout. It was not only nor perhaps chiefly that the outbreak
of the world's war made Trieste and the Trentino appear no longer
an unrealizable dream. People had long ago made up their minds
as to who was responsible, and they had followed closely and with
growing indignation the unscrupulous methods of warfare by which
the will of Germany was to be enforced on the world. Public sentiment,
always quick to respond to the appeal of elemental justice and
instinctively intolerant of prepotency, had been profoundly stirred
by that treatment of Belgium, which even Count Moltke admitted
to have been "certainly brutal." [In a letter addressed
to General Conrad von Hoetzendorff and published by the latter
in his astonishingly candid memories.] The opening phase of the
submarine campaign against merchant vessels, sunk without warning
in defiance of the accepted rules of naval warfare, had been responsible
for the death of innocent Italian emigrants. The politician and
the business world might be intimidated, but the simple man, who
discussed these outrages with his fellow, was growing dangerously
angry. Humble friends of mine among the working-classes said to
me again and again, "We mean to have war." Then, as
if to reaffirm the truth of the ancient saying, "Those whom
the gods have doomed they first afflict with madness," just
at this critical stage came the crime of the Lusitania, and
the outraged feelings of an emotional people only needed a voice
to give expression to their resentment. Eloquence is never wanting
in Italy, where the word springs ready to the lips. But the occasion
demanded not only eloquence but that imagination and inspiration
which moves men to possess their souls. Perhaps in no other country
in the world could it have happened that at such a moment a poet
should indicate the course and take the helm. At the rock of Quarto,
where Garibaldi had embarked with his thousand for the Sicilian
expedition, d'Annunzio began his apostolate with a speech to the
Ligurians, which went to the heart of the country. A second and
a third speech followed, and an enthusiastic crowd assembled to
welcome the orator to Rome.
Not less zealous and effective in the critical hour was the
intervention of that remarkable man who in more recent years has
played such a dominant part in the public life of Italy, Benito
Mussolini. As his field of activity was in the north, at Milan,
I had no opportunity at this time of meeting him. He began life
as a teacher in a village school in his native Romagna, but early
migrated to Switzerland where he learned French and studied economics.
The extreme views which he advocated in a revolutionary paper
led to his expulsion, and he returned to join the staff of the
Socialist organ the Avanti. I have always understood that
in the first instance on the outbreak of the European War Mussolini's
attitude was, like that of a majority of the party to which he
then still adhered, in favour of neutrality. But his conversion,
if not quite as miraculously quick as that of Paul of Tarsus,
was rapid and convinced. Denouncing the heresies of the Avanti
he founded the Popolo d'Italia, and with a powerful
pen and no prejudices in favour of understatement he became one
of the most strenuous propagandists of the cause of the Allies,
who have every reason to be grateful for his potent advocacy.
Nor was his intervention confined to theory. He joined the Bersaglieri
when Italy entered the struggle, and his tough fibre enabled him
to recover from a number of serious wounds, from bursting shrapnel,
after which he returned to his journal.
I do not propose to carry the record of my recollections beyond
the conclusion of the Great War and shall not therefore have occasion
to refer to the effects of a political leadership which I believe
saved his country in a critical hour. But I may add here that
the personality of the actual Prime Minister in Italy has always
suggested to me a reversion to the type which impressed itself
on the early history of the Renaissance by the possession
of those characteristic qualities of primeval vitality, of courage,
intellectual ability and forceful will to achieve a purpose which
Machiavelli indicated in the word virtu, by no means
to be confused with its English homonym.
The meeting of Parliament which would have to decide the great
issue and confer extraordinary powers on the Government drew near.
On the 7th of May Giolitti came to Rome after an absence of several
weeks. His personal attitude had remained enigmatic. There is
reason to believe that his original intention had been not to
oppose Salandra, for whose succession in 1914 he had prepared
the way. But there had been subsequent misunderstandings, and
considerable bitterness had grown up between the statesmen, with
the result that in this critical period Giolitti had been left
entirely in the background, which he no doubt resented. Various
rumours reached me which, though their source seemed worthy of
credit, I had no means of testing. Public opinion in any case
charged him with having at a critical hour abandoned a passive
attitude for a militant advocacy of neutralism. There had been
demonstrations of hostility during his passage through Turin,
and in Rome he was received with cries of Abasso il parecchio!
Nevertheless, upwards of three hundred deputies left cards or
letters of welcome at his house on his arrival. What may be described
as his tied voters had seldom failed him when he claimed their
support to secure him an adequate majority. Giolitti has stated
in his memoirs that already before the 9th of May Bertolini, a
former colleague in his Ministry who, during his absence, acted
as leader of his group in Rome, had informed him of the offers
which Austria was making.
It was not, however, till the 11th that the responsible Ministers
Salandra and Sonnino received a simultaneous communication drafted
in haste, and dispatched during the night, containing the ultimate
concessions which Austria-Hungary, under German pressure, was
prepared to grant to Italy. [Erzberger (Erlebnisse im Weltkrieg)
fully confirms that the Austrian conditions had been
discussed with the Opposition and communicated to Giolitti before
they were sent to his Ministers.] The German Empire undertook
to guarantee the loyal execution of the arrangement to be concluded
to give them effect. It was now proposed that Trieste should become
a free city with municipal autonomy endowed with an Italian university.
But the time had gone by for negotiations with the Government
in office, which had already crossed the Rubicon.
And now it was ascertained by those means which are available
to Parliamentary experts that the neutralists intended to defeat
the Ministry by some 300 votes out of an approximate total of
500. Giolitti himself, I was given to understand, would take no
direct part in the proceedings in the Chamber, but would leave
it to his followers to upset the Government. Without a vote of
confidence and the indispensable credits Salandra's administration
would be paralysed. On the night of the 13th of May it was announced
that they had resigned. It was one of the grimmest moments I have
ever experienced. Bülow and his allies were chanting victory.
If not Giolitti himself, one of his nominees would, they assumed,
form a more or less neutralist Cabinet, and all danger of Italy
entering the war would be eliminated. But such self-congratulations
were premature. They had left the people out of their reckoning.
Already on the 13th certain prominent members of the Giolittian
party had been roughly handled in the streets. On the morning
of the 14th a crowd shouting "Down with Giolitti!" made
an irruption into the precincts of the Chamber, and did considerable
damage there. The Ministers who had tendered their resignation
were not in a position to make any public statement. But there
were discreet indiscretions. The Corriere della Sera, in
its issue of the 14th, divulged that the Triple Alliance had been
denounced, and that an agreement with the Entente Powers
had been signed. Gabriele d'Annunzio made a similar statement
at a mass meeting at the Costanzi Theatre, where he stigmatized
Giolitti as a traitor. The public became aware that it was only
after the Triple Alliance had actually been denounced that Austria-Hungary
had definitely formulated concessions, and they realized with
growing anger that these conditions had been made known to Opposition
politicians before they were actually submitted to the Government.
There was a storm of protest against the attempt of a foreign
State to intervene in the internal affairs of the country. [In
corroboration of what I have here written, the speech made by
Signor Salandra on the Capitol on the 2nd of June may be quoted.
While giving Prince Bülow credit for entertaining a sincere
sympathy for Italy he said, "But how many and how grave were
the errors he made in translating these good intentions into action.
He supposed that Italy could be deflected from her course by a
certain number of millions ill-bestowed, by the influence of a
limited number of individuals who had lost the sense of the national
spirit, by attempting, though I hope without success, the seduction
of Italian politicians." The authority of "the best
judge of the situation in Italy" was invoked by the German
Chancellor on the day following her declaration of war in order
to convince his audience that at the beginning of May 1915 four-fifths
of the Senate and two-thirds of the Chamber, including the most
serious and influential statesmen, were still against the war;
but the mob, supported by the chief Ministers in a Cabinet gorged
with the gold of the Triple Entente, led by unscrupulous
agitators, had threatened the King with revolution, and the Moderates
with assassination, if war were not declared. If the Chancellor
meant to include Salandra and Sonnino in his general charge of
corruption, he must have assumed extraordinary credulity in his
audience.] There were violent demonstrations before Giolitti's
house. Cavalry and infantry were detailed to protect the residence
of the special Ambassador. From Milan was heard an ominous murmur,
"War or the republic!" Trieste and the Trentino were
hardly referred to now, and Austria, the traditional enemy, seemed
relegated to the second plane. The universal cry was "Fuori
i Barbari!" ("Out with the Barbarians!")
All through Saturday, the 15th, there were popular demonstrations
in every part of Italy. The situation was tense. And now the next
word was with the King.
Since August 1914 I had seen the King from time to time on
various occasions. His Majesty was far too scrupulously observant
of his obligations as a constitutional monarch ever consciously
to commit himself to any expressions inconsistent with the neutrality
of his country. But there had been little indications of friendship
in his manner, guarded warnings suggesting prudence in certain
courses, and especially a look of comradeship in the eyes, which
left me in no doubt as to what his own feelings were. And was
he not the grandson of Victor Emmanuel, the Liberator King, and
the head of the great fighting House of Savoy? But whatever the
King's own personal sentiments might be, he was now faced with
a grave constitutional responsibility. His decision, because of
the consequences which it must entail, would be the most serious
a monarch can be called upon to take. The Government of Signor
Salandra, on the eve of a declaration of war, had resigned because
they had realized that they would not be supported by Parliament.
The King, always the best-informed man in the country, disregarding
actuarial forecasts of the Parliamentary vote, took his deliberate
stand on what he believed to be the will of the people, so openly
manifested in the last two days. On the 16th he confirmed the
Salandra Government in office. The nation responded by acclamation.
The people had come down into the piazza, and no Chamber could
ignore their verdict. And so the great conspiracy failed.
Two hundred thousand citizens of Rome were reported to have
gathered that afternoon in the Piazza del Popolo. The estimate
seems almost fantastic. But it was on a Sunday when all were out
and about. That evening, a golden evening of the Roman May, thousands
and thousands of them marched up to the Embassy at Porta Pia.
They were not of the type which ordinarily furnishes demonstrations,
but an orderly and disciplined throng which seemed to include
the best of the bourgeoisie, officials, tradesmen and craftsmen.
My wife threw down armfuls of flowers from the balcony. There
was a call for the flag, and then a hush fell upon the multitude,
expecting a speech. But I had to repress my emotions, and could
only say that my duty was still to be silent. It would be for
the Government to speak.
I have never witnessed a more remarkable phenomenon than this
uprising of the people. There had been nothing like it in Italy
since 1859. The few witnesses surviving from that epoch pronounced
the enthusiasm of 1915 to be greater. I do not believe the Government
themselves had expected such unanimity. After the hectic days,
which were referred to as passion week, it was evident that the
die was cast. Party pledges and combinations, the insincerities
and compromises of political life would have to disappear before
a manifestation of the popular will which had cleared the air.
Except for that of the irreconcilable Socialists, Parliamentary
opposition might now be regarded as silenced. It was, however,
dormant rather than dead, a condition which accounts for subsequent
developments which it might otherwise be difficult to explain.
Erzberger, who already on the 9th of May, realizing the gravity
of the situation and apprehending that his intrigues with the
Opposition might lead to his expulsion, had had himself officially
attached to Bülow's Mission, was recommended to leave Rome,
and took his departure on the 17th.
Parliament assembled on the 20th of May for the most memorable
meeting at which I ever assisted. The galleries were packed beyond
their capacity. The President of the Council asked the Chamber
to give the Government the extraordinary powers which would be
necessary in the event of war. As Signor Salandra made his brief
but pregnant statement of the reasons which had made this demand
inevitable, members rose time after time to their feet to applaud.
Only five rows of Socialists on the extreme left remained seated
and grimly silent. The Bill was referred to a Committee which
was directed to report forthwith. Meanwhile, Ministers went on
in a body to the Senate. By the time they returned the report
of the Committee was ready. As the Socialist leader, Turati, who
had been appointed to the Committee, had excused himself from
attendance, its report in favour of the Bill was unanimous. The
reporter, the veteran patriot Boselli, made a touching and impressive
address. He was followed by Barzilai, a protagonist of irredentism
and one of the orators of the House. Turati then explained the
dissent of a group of Socialists who believed that Italy should
remain neutral, being heard with impatience. He was answered by
Cicotti, as the spokesman of the other group who regarded intervention
as an ideal duty. The ballot was taken at 6.50 p.m. There were
483 deputies present, two of whom abstained from voting. The Bill
was carried by 407 to 74. Then the Assembly, hitherto restrained,
as befitted the solemnity of the occasion, went mad with enthusiasm,
and the public in the galleries joined in the patriotic manifestations.
As friends pressed round to clasp Sonnino's hand, there was the
shadow of a smile upon the handsome ascetic face.
At an audience of the King, to whom I had a message to convey
from my sovereign, I congratulated His Majesty on the manner in
which the crisis had been overcome. I shall not, I trust, be betraying
a confidence in saying that the King, who had been deeply sensible
of the anxious and momentous character of his decision, felt in
his own quiet modest way a certain moral glow of satisfaction
that he had so justly estimated the situation and had rightly
acquitted himself of the duty of kingship when put to the highest
test. He told me he expected to leave very shortly to join the
army, when the Duke of Genoa would probably act as Regent in Rome.
I was not a little gratified, because of the evidence it afforded
of the cordiality of relations, when the King, who could not fail
to have in mind the great uncertainties of war, asked me as a
friend to be at the disposal of the Queen and the Royal Family
for any services which it might be possible to render them. A
few such words, a look, a pressure of the hand are very eloquent
at such a moment.
Instructions had been sent to the Italian Ambassador in Vienna
on the 22nd of May to announce the declaration of war. The message
appears to have been stopped upon the road, as he telegraphed
that he had not received the communication which he had been warned
to expect. The declaration of war as from the 24th was therefore
handed to the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador in Rome on the 23rd.
At daybreak on the 24th an Austrian flotilla bombarded Ancona.
The Counsellor of the German Embassy then proceeded to the Foreign
Office to announce that if the Italians attacked the Austrians
they would find German troops with them. This would entail the
existence of a state of war with Germany also.
It was obvious that the withdrawal of enemy diplomatic missions
to the Quirinal must entail the simultaneous departure of their
missions to the Holy See. All of them left Rome by special train
on the evening of the 24th. Donna Laura, the mother of Princess
Bülow, was heard to say, "I have been to the station
to see Bernhard off, and I have returned fully conscious that
I am the widow of Marco Minghetti."
If Bülow's diplomacy had failed, there was nevertheless
one point which he could reckon to the credit side of his account.
He was able to render a not unimportant service to his country
by inducing the Italian Government to accept a reciprocal arrangement
by which subjects of the respective countries between which there
had been no formal declarations of war were allowed to remain
at large, together with certain provisions protecting their property.
The terms of this agreement did not become known to me until somewhat
later. The reciprocity stipulated in the agreement was more apparent
than real because such Italians as were to be found in Germany
belonged to the labouring class, and their presence would not
be dangerous in a country under such rigid discipline, whereas
every German in Italy was a potential agent of espionage. A bureau
for the collection of information was in fact quickly improvised
on the Swiss border, and the free circulation of enemy subjects
in Italy was a manifest danger until the agreement was denounced.
On the following day, the first Sunday of Italy's war, there
were organized demonstrations by processions to the Allied embassies.
This time we were better prepared to receive them. On the balcony
over the entrance in Via XX Settembre the British and Italian
flags waved side by side, and flowers and ribbons had been collected.
At the head of the procession marched a small pathetic group of
old Garibaldians in their red shirts. The veterans of fifty-nine
and sixty were bidding God-speed to the young armies of 1915.
There was no longer any need for reticence, and I went down to
the front door and from the steps said what it was in my heart
to say---a few such simple words as the emotion of the moment
inspired. When I had finished I was conscious of arms round my
shoulders and rough faces against my cheek.
And so with a lighter heart for the moment, because a crisis
was past, because all that one had hoped and believed had been
accomplished, I watched the long procession pass and melt away
through Porta Pia, where as the twilight darkened the globe-topped
crenellations, black against the evening sky, seemed like a row
of altar ministrants kneeling in line to pray for the safety of
the holy city. It was legitimate then to anticipate that this
new accession of strength to the Allies must mean an earlier termination
of the titanic struggle. And yet, in despite of that welcome sense
of momentary relief, I was conscious of a vague misgiving which
would not be repressed. All national wars begin with popular enthusiasm.
How would it be in six months' time, in a year from then ?
On the 2nd of June Salandra addressed the citizens on the Capitol.
In this historic speech he traced the conduct of the Italian Government
from August 1914 until the declaration of war. He described the
manoeuvres of the enemy, and denounced the falsity of the charge
of betrayal which the German Chancellor had brought against the
former ally. This address should be carefully studied by all who
desire to understand the position which Italy had from the first
adopted and had consistently maintained until the day of issue.
[It has been republished, together with the Minister's other speeches
and many valuable annotations by Fratelli Treves of Milan. I
Discorsi della Guerra, Antonio Salandra, 1922.]
Once the great decision had been taken I received a number
of gratifying letters from official and private sources. There
was perhaps no one which gave me greater pleasure than that which
I received from my old friend Curzon, written on the day on which
he had joined the Government as Lord Privy Seal, with that affectionate
touch of sympathy which he only allowed his intimate friends to
appreciate.
I have sometimes been asked by my countrymen how far I was
responsible for the entry of Italy into the war. Such a question
reveals, I think, a rather insular misapprehension of what really
took place in Italy. It no doubt suited our enemies to attribute
the miscarriage of their calculations to the guile of their antagonists
who, as they expressed it, encouraged the blackmailing instincts
of the Government. But they had throughout disregarded and had
never understood the Italian people. The latter, it should be
remembered, was not aware of the conditions laid down in the Pact
of London, though the nation had no doubt full confidence that
the reward of victory would be the realization of long-cherished
dreams of national union and territorial security. I have never
doubted and have constantly affirmed both at the time and since
that the moving impulse which drew the people together and led
them to unite with the Allies against the forces of aggression
was in the main that elemental love of justice which is in their
nature. Every act committed by the enemy which estranged the sense
of a common humanity had added strength to the movement, and the
final rupture with the Central Powers came to them as a welcome
relief.
At the same time a foreign representative actively concerned
in so grave an issue, might readily do much to compromise success
by inopportune action, or by giving the wrong advice to his Government.
In that respect I see no reason, looking back, to minimize the
importance of the part I played in the critical months of 1914-15
before Italy became our ally. I can conscientiously claim to have
made few mistakes, to have taken no step which was prejudicial,
and to have done my best to prevent misunderstandings on the part
of others less well acquainted with Italian temperament and susceptibilities.
I worked unceasingly to encourage the zealous, to put heart into
the hesitating, and to remain in close and constant touch with
men of every class and denomination. But I carefully refrained
from appearing to exercise any pressure. To my own Government
I did my best to explain the position of Italy in the Adriatic
and the necessity of guaranteeing her future security if we were
to expect her co-operation. I was singularly fortunate in having
in Sir Edward Grey a chief who invariably treated my representations
with broad and sympathetic consideration.
Nevertheless, it was not perhaps altogether surprising that
after the 24th of May I found myself regarded, or at any rate
represented, in Germany, as the evil genius of Italy. Bethmann-Hollweg
had himself given direction to public opinion when he spoke of
the Italian Government as having been bought with the gold of
the Triple Entente and of the Italian people as having
been misled by agents provocateurs. The Berlin Ulk produced
a caricature, of which a copy reached me, where I am represented
in a suit of checks sitting in the place of Marcus Aurelius on
the famous horse of the Capitol. The Italian Ministers, all of
them also in checks of a similar pattern, with bowed heads linked
together neck to neck in a chain-gang, are depressedly climbing
the Capitol slope. The cartoon is entitled "Made in England."
It is true that I might not have recognized myself had my name
not been inscribed on the pedestal.
A little later the Berliner Tageblatt produced an amazing
article purporting to be based on a letter from a "neutral
in Rome." There I read: "As a result of Sir Rennell
Rodd's activities, hostility to England is growing daily in Italy.---Nothing
of importance can happen in Governmental circles without Sir Rennell's
consent. The Ministers, the Press, the King himself acts entirely
through him. All the departments, custom-houses, banks, etc.,
are filled with English agents. The Foreign Minister will listen
to nobody but Sir Rennell Rodd. The Prime Minister is as much
under his control. At the Royal Palace he rules with the active
support of Miss -----, nurse to the King's children and Queen
Helena." I smiled grimly as I read this and a similar article
in the Lokal Anzeiger, which gave me credit for having
directed the struggle between the diplomacy of the Entente
and Prince Bülow, for I thought of the admission which
the latter had made to Page, that his people only believed what
the censor allowed them to know.