CHAPTER XIV: ROME, 1917-1918
During my absence differences within the Ministry had become so pronounced that the veteran Boselli, who had so gallantly stepped into the breach at a difficult moment, resigned on the eve of Caporetto. A new Ministry was rapidly formed by Orlando, the Minister of the Interior. It remained a Coalition Ministry, including many of the old members, with a more pronouncedly Liberal character. Carcano, whose health had broken down, was replaced by the enterprising Signor Nitti. In 1915, the latter had not been an ardent advocate of intervention. But time and the enemy's methods of warfare had made many conversions, and his son, who had been severely wounded, was then a prisoner in the enemy's hands. My friend Chiesa of the robust lungs, long one of the stormy petrels of the Chamber, but a sterling patriot with a heart of gold, greatly concerned for the welfare of the workingman, became Minister of Munitions. Sonnino, whose political attitude had always been opposed to that of Orlando, told me that he had meant to withdraw if Boselli's resignation became inevitable. But the anticipated enemy offensive, followed by the disaster of the retreat, compelled him to change his mind. At such a critical stage he could not abandon his post, and he would do his best to work with the President of the Council.
Information gathered from the best sources available left little
doubt that Caporetto was very largely the result of psychological
causes, though no doubt also due to errors of military appreciation.
While the presence of only two weak corps without any adequate
support to hold a vulnerable section of the line, and a very questionable
disposition of the artillery, seemed to the layman to justify
much of the criticism they encountered, grave responsibility for
what took place must rest on those who deliberately created the
moral atmosphere which made defeat possible and probably inevitable.
The area occupied by these divisions of the Second Army had for
long remained a quiet portion of the Front where the monotonous
isolation of life in the trenches was unbroken by stirring events.
It was none the less a position of great importance open to attack
from both Tolmino and Plezzo. Here for many months a persistent
anti-military propaganda had undermined the morale of peasant
soldiers, with little or no knowledge of international conditions,
whose restricted outlook had never conceived those ideals of the
war, which, in our country, had brought millions of volunteers
to the flag. In Italy the corporate spirit is never strong, and
it depends largely on the quality of the officers to inspire it
in a regiment. The old professional officers had been to a great
extent killed or disabled in the earlier phases of the campaign.
The new officers were not in touch with their men, and had little
hold upon them. Into this army had been drafted the men, strongly
impregnated with the doctrines disseminated by the extreme Socialists,
who had been compromised in the serious riots at Turin and elsewhere,
and who were sent as a punitive measure to the colours. Coming
from industrial cities, where they had learned the catechism of
their instructors, they became centres of infection preaching
pacifism and even sabotage. I have already referred to the four
letters addressed by Marshal Cadorna to the Government in the
summer of 1917, drawing earnest attention to the effects of the
anti-patriotic propaganda which, being allowed free play in the
country, was manifestly also contaminating the army. He was to
my knowledge not the only prominent general officer who pressed
for more energetic measures. There was no counter influence at
work in the ranks, and little to distract the tedium of life among
young soldiers passionately attached to the homes from which they
had been for so long separated. The letters they received from
their families were depressing to their spirits, and on the rare
occasions when they went on leave they would encounter echoes
of the same teaching in the villages. The constant effort to discredit
the Allies and to attribute, especially to ourselves, selfish
motives for prolonging the struggle, of which we had ample evidence
in Central Italy, had no doubt its effect also at the Front. Then,
when on the 16th of August the head of the Church, to many of
them the only moral influence to which they were susceptible,
issued his appeal for peace, affirming that the time had come
when the war should cease, the agitator did not allow them to
remain in ignorance of this pronouncement. Without seeking to
attach direct responsibility to that Pontifical utterance, which
was of course not addressed to individuals in the fighting line,
I cannot doubt that, adroitly interpreted by the propagandist,
it affected the mentality of the troops.
I was informed later that the enemy had had exact facsimiles
produced of Italian newspapers which were dropped from aeroplanes
over the lines. These announced the outbreak of revolution in
Italy. It was also reported that, for some time previously, surreptitious
communications had been established between the opposing ranks,
and that an agreement had been mutually reached between certain
units on either side to lay down their arms when ordered to attack.
But the German divisions under the command of General von Below
had been distributed along the front of the Austro-Hungarian lines,
and if any such compact had been concluded it was only kept on
the Italian side. The simple peasant soldier who had seen little
fighting during two weary years was readily deluded by these manoeuvres,
and when in mist and rain before daybreak on the 24th of October
the offensive began and the word went round to abandon arms, a
considerable number did not hesitate to do so. It was only a limited
number of regiments belonging to the Second Army that were thus
affected. But their defection and the consequent penetration of
the enemy at a critical point compromised the safety of the whole
line.
On the Bainsizza plateau, which had been so hardly won, and
at Gorizia, secured after one of the brilliant actions of the
war, a successful resistance was opposed. But the disheartening
order to retreat was inevitable. The withdrawal across the Isonzo
was carried out in good order. But the breach so easily effected
in the northern sector, through which the enemy debouched in strength,
exposed the encumbered divisions descending into the plain to
a deadly flank attack. There, broken and completely demoralized,
the Second Army melted away, and those who escaped envelopment
were scattered as fugitives over the country, seeking the shortest
road to return to their native villages.
Many conspicuous acts of heroism were displayed by isolated
bodies cut off by the invading stream. The Alpini on Monte Nero
were said to have perished almost to a man, defending the post
which had been won at the cost of great sacrifice.
The remaining Armies, the First, the Third, the Fourth, and
the Fifth behaved without reproach. A general withdrawal in hot
haste was unavoidable. But they retired in such order as could
be maintained over roads cut up by the autumn rains and blocked
by the fugitive population, standing their ground when pressed
and then retiring once more. The cavalry, among which the dragoons
of Genoa and the lancers of Novara especially distinguished themselves,
again and again flung desperate charges on the pursuing enemy
to secure a brief respite for the retreating infantry. The difficulties
entailed by such a general withdrawal were enormous. It seemed
at one moment doubtful whether the Third Army in the southern
section, loaded with transport, or the advancing enemy would win
the race to the half-way obstacle presented by the River Tagliamento.
But the enemy had probably not been prepared for such a rapid
or decisive success, and proved unequal to following it up methodically,
so that the retreating forces were enabled to take up a strong
position behind the shorter line of the Piave. Extending themselves
on the new ground the Italian armies turned at bay and arrested
the enemy advance. Had they not stood their ground, the Austrian
and German divisions might have swept on into the plain of Lombardy
with disastrous consequences to all the Allied fronts. But they
held firm, and reinforced by the very young levies that had just
joined the colours, they emerged with honour from an ordeal which
demanded the endurance of veterans. Historically the disastrous
defection at Caporetto must never be separated from the gallant
recovery on the Piave, which was one of the most important achievements
of the Great War. I have since more than once heard it suggested
that the Italian Army was saved by the arrival of Allied divisions.
This is of course a misapprehension. The knowledge that Allied
assistance was assured no doubt gave great encouragement in the
hour of dejection, and these divisions eventually took their part
in repelling the intermittent attacks which continued till Christmas.
But the British troops did not take up the position assigned to
them on the Montello until the 4th of December, while the French
arrived only a few days earlier.
The British guns were all safely withdrawn to new stations.
The Ambulance units accompanied the retreating armies, and the
field hospital was evacuated without loss. It was remarkable that
although the whole strength of the Austro-Hungarian fleet was
concentrated at Pola, the Italians were able to bring away the
coastal batteries which they had landed at Monfalcone. But the
losses of material were of course overwhelming. The highest authority
in Rome informed me that he calculated on having to replace 1,700
guns, but his estimate fell short of the real number. At such
a moment Italy had reason to be grateful to the firm of Ansaldo,
which had been actively manufacturing artillery greatly in excess
of the official demand.
Eleven Allied divisions were to be sent to Italy with the briefest
possible delay. General Foch had arrived immediately to investigate
and advise on the situation, and Sir William Robertson joined
Cadorna at Treviso on the 30th of October. The latter came on
to Rome while waiting for a conference of the Allied Governments
to assemble on the 5th of November at Rapallo. We thus had time
for some preliminary discussions together, and the information
which he brought was the more welcome as I had received no word
from our Military Mission and, during the first few days, the
authorities at Rome pursued a policy of silence which was I think
regrettable, as it only allowed uncontrollable rumours to gain
currency.
Even the meeting of Allied ministers at Rapallo, which was
attended by Mr. Lloyd George and General Smuts, by M.M. Painlevé
and Franklin Bouillon for France, and by Orlando and Sonnino on
behalf of Italy, with their military advisers, was only known
to the public after its conclusion. Its results did much to restore
general confidence. Thereafter a stronger sense of unity and a
pooling of resources seemed assured. A Supreme War Council to
sit at Versailles would co-ordinate military action. On this council
Cadorna was, with some difficulty, persuaded to represent Italy.
He would have preferred to offer his services in any subordinate
capacity in the fighting line.
Under the circumstances no alternative was possible to the
supersession of Cadorna, the more so as his Order of the Day of
the 28th of October, which was only published with certain modifications,
was known to have attributed the defeat to treachery, a reflection
which a majority of opinion resented. He was replaced by General
Diaz, with General Badoglio as assistant chief of the staff. I
regretted not a little a step which I recognized as inevitable,
because I had regarded Cadorna, who was not always well served
by his subordinates, as one of the big soldiers in a war in which
few of the Allied commanders had found opportunity for exceptional
distinction. He had had from the first to contend with great difficulties,
in consequence of a too rigid system of promotion by seniority.
Though he had, in the face of much opposition, eliminated a large
number of superannuated general officers, too many still remained.
The dissatisfied made contact with the politician, and rumours
had constantly reached us of friction between the authorities
in Rome and the chief of the staff, which must have been harassing
to him at a time when he needed to concentrate all his attention
on military problems. His protests against the toleration allowed
to a propaganda subversive of discipline and efficiency show that
he was generally well-informed as to its sinister effects, and
he had been severely criticized for very drastic measures taken
to suppress its manifestations. On the other hand, he can evidently
not have been fully cognizant of the demoralization prevailing
in the particular sector which was made the object of the enemy
attack, since no measures were taken to replace or reinforce the
troops which held it. There were, it seems, lines actually prepared
in the rear of the position which might have been held by supporting
troops. The General commanding the Second Army had been ill, and
had only returned to duty on the eve of Caporetto.
To Cadorna, in any case, belonged the credit of the preparation
for war in an area where every physical advantage was on the side
of the enemy, and under his direction the opening phases of the
campaign were marked by a continuous series of successes. If the
faulty dispositions of a general whom he had unfortunately replaced
too late were responsible for a reverse in the Trentino in 1916,
the balance was quickly re-established by the rapid measures taken
by the chief of the staff, who followed them up with the brilliant
action on the Isonzo which led to the capture of Gorizia. It is
possible, if the proposals made by Mr. Lloyd George in the beginning
of 1917 had been adopted, that Cadorna might have gone down to
history as one of the most successful captains of the war. Not
the least of his merits was the cool-headed conduct of the retreat,
which enabled the Italian armies to establish themselves on the
Piave, a strategic line which he had always had in view since
the summer of 1916. It is gratifying to know that, after a period
of dignified retirement, his services to his country have been
recognized by the bestowal of the rank of Marshal.
Having been in immediate contact with those who had to guide
the destinies of the country and to make good the losses of men
and material, I wish in justice to place on record that I could
never detect in them any sign of faltering. Orlando and his Government
displayed fervour and courage, sustaining the national sentiment
and, both in the first tragic days and through the long period
of reconstruction, they deserved well of their country. The impression
which Caporetto made on the mass of the people, who had had no
reason to anticipate a disaster of such magnitude, was of course
profound. A sense of humiliation was perceptible in their faces
and in their words. But no voice was heard to put forward any
plea for peace, and none showed greater pluck than the refugees
from the invaded regions and those who had lost their all. The
spirit of the Italian people was indeed worthy of all admiration
in their misfortune, which seemed to have strengthened the feeling
of national unity and to have quickened their resolution. They
would withdraw, if need be, to the Apennines, but they would not
accept defeat. Deserters trying to make their way back to their
homes were badly received, and the women of Calabria drove them
with reproaches out of the villages.
The retreating armies had remained continually in action, and
many positions were contested throughout November and December,
until the new front on the Piave was consolidated. Their recovery
and resistance to the series of Austrian attacks against the Grappa
Sector in the north was one of the notable achievements of the
war. There were rumours in Rome of divided opinions as to whether
the Piave position should be definitively held or whether there
should be a further retrogade movement to a still shorter defensive
line. At the Front there was no such hesitation, though no doubt
plans were prepared for every eventuality. Neither General Diaz
nor General Cadorna ever decided on a further withdrawal. The
influence of General Plumer, whose experience was a valuable asset,
was also decisively exercised in favour of the Piave line, which
was maintained, with few modifications as then constituted, until
the final victorious advance at the end of October 1918. Meanwhile,
it not only served as the defensive frontier of Italy, but it
held up fifty-three Austro-Hungarian divisions, none of which
could be utilized to reinforce the waning enemy man-power on the
Western front. It was a matter for great regret when General Plumer,
whose unfailing tact had enabled him to put forward recommendations
which were not only not resented but actually welcomed, was recalled
to France where his services were urgently needed in the spring.
But the choice of Lord Cavan to replace him was a very happy one,
and the confidence which he inspired was revealed when the time
for action came, and he was entrusted with the command of the
Tenth Army.
On the reassembly of the Chamber after Caporetto, the public
and the Press were excluded from its sessions which were held
in camera. The secrecy of discussion was on the whole well
maintained, and I could only accept as probably correct certain
information which reached me such as, for instance, an admission
made by Sonnino, in speaking of Italian interests on the eastern
side of the Adriatic, that the numerical proportion of Italians
to Slavs in certain areas was too small to enable any case for
annexation to be advanced on the nationality basis, and that it
would be necessary to recede from certain claims.
Meanwhile, the advance in Palestine had begun. We had news
of Gaza and of the advance to Jaffa. But I received no communication
from my son for six weeks until, on the 10th of December, a telegram
arrived with the two words "all well." The same evening
we learned that Jerusalem had capitulated. Private affairs were
satisfactory, as my second son had just gained an honorary scholarship
at Wellington and my eldest daughter had obtained her A certificate
at Oxford. Public affairs, on the other hand, were depressing.
The situation in Roumania seemed desperate, and the demobilization
of the army in Russia was anticipated.
After my return from leave I had immediately once more urged
in the strongest terms which I could command, the necessity for
grappling with the anti-ally propaganda, which was manifestly
encouraged by the large number of enemy subjects who still remained
at large in the big cities. The new President of the Council now
took action, and the Germans, who had retained their liberty in
virtue of the Bülow arrangement, were deported to remoter
centres, where they were kept under strict supervision. But within
the country certain subtle influences constantly worked to predispose
the public mind in favour of early peace negotiations. Although
Giolitti himself had somewhat platonically supported the Government
in the Chamber, I read at this time in an important journal wholly
devoted to his interest a specious article on the freedom of the
seas, which insinuated that Great Britain alone blocked the way
to a removal of the chief obstacle to an early conclusion of peace
and that, as we were not likely to yield on this issue even to
American pressure, the war was bound to continue.
Early in February 1918 General Smuts passed through Rome on
his way to Palestine and Sir Eric Geddes arrived with a Naval
Mission to discuss a number of important questions. The results
were satisfactory in so far as the direction of the anti-submarine
campaign and the maintenance of the Adriatic barrage were placed
under our control. Local conditions presented many difficulties
which were not encountered in home waters, but the measures now
adopted began to bear fruit in a few months' time. Arrangements
which promised well were also concluded for the salvage and repair
of merchant vessels, not only off the Italian, but also off the
Grecian and North African coasts. The Admiralty, in spite of my
constant representations, did not seem to have realized the precarious
conditions prevailing in Italy owing to the shortage of coal for
the navy and the railways, but there was now good prospect that
this grave matter would receive early attention. Somewhat later
I was once more in communication with the First Lord over the
question of the unity of the naval command in the Mediterranean,
which, owing to French and Italian rivalry, had presented an almost
insuperable problem. It appeared to be on the eve of settlement
by the appointment of Lord Jellicoe as the supreme co-ordinating
authority when, once again, new difficulties arose in defining
the limits of independent action. These divergences might have
been adjusted, but the First Lord, who was obliged to go to the
United States, did not receive the letter in which I submitted
a plan for doing so, and the opportunity went by.
The death at Ottawa in the same month of Cecil Spring Rice
distressed me greatly, not only because in him I lost an intimate
friend of forty years, but because I resented that so gifted and
lovable a colleague should have been infelix opportunitate
mortis. For he had just been recalled from his duties as Ambassador
at Washington where, so far as I could form an appreciation, he
had acted with great judgment in very critical years. His health
had been far from good for some time, and I have no doubt that
the responsible authorities had excellent reasons for their action.
But he was acutely sensitive. The notice given to one who had
served his country with distinction for some five and thirty years
was very brief, and il modo ancor mi offende. Cecil Spring
Rice, in spite of the very strong feelings which underlay his
well-reasoned and clearly defined opinions, was of so modest a
demeanour and so instinctively alien to any self-advertisement,
that his remarkable personality, with its subtly humorous irony
and its essential kindness, was little known to the world in general,
but it was warmly appreciated by his own generation. The fervour
of patriotism in its highest sense which stirred him during the
war inspired him after many years of silence to self-expression
in a noble poem which should hold its place in literature.
At the end of March 1918 Mr. Wickham, Steed came to Italy with
an inter-Allied propaganda delegation to promote measures for
communicating with soldiers of Slav or Roumanian race in the enemy
ranks. In his book, Through Thirty Years, he has given
an interesting account of his energetic action. With the full
co-operation of the Italian civil and military authorities a rain
of projectiles enclosing documents was directed towards the enemy
lines. It had its effect in procuring a certain number of desertions.
It is even possible that, as he surmises, the efficacy of this
method of information may have contributed to the postponement
of an Austro-Hungarian offensive on the Piave, expected in April,
until the following June. But there were other factors to account
for the delay. A complete reorganization of the Austrian Army
had been initiated in the winter, and the process, entailing many
movements and continual revision, appears to have been much more
lengthy than was anticipated. Replies to questions put to prisoners
after the final victory suggest that the results attributed to
this propaganda have been exaggerated. [Dr. Masaryk, in his Memories
of the War, writing of an earlier period says: "In practice
the two sides soon recognized one another and generally agreed
that those of our people fighting in the Austrian ranks should
come over to our army; but there were cases of very stubborn fratricidal
strife."] The men who were interrogated seemed to have known
very little of what was going on in their own country, and when
asked why they had continued fighting, simply said they had taken
the military oath of loyalty and felt bound by it. Whether Mr.
Steed is justified in making the reluctance of Sonnino to be more
explicit in regard to the national aspirations of the Southern
Slavs responsible for the failure to bring about desertion in
masses is certainly conjectural, as is also his presumption that
a more definite declaration on the subject than that made by the
Allied Conference in Paris on the 3rd of June would have converted
the repulse of the Austrian attack on the Piave in the same month
into a disaster.
In the beginning of April there was a Conference at Rome between
Allied propaganda delegates and representatives of the various
races subject to the Habsburg dynasty. Dr. Trumbitch was the spokesman
of the Southern Slavs, Benes of the Czecho-Slovaks, and M. Skirmunt,
now so well-known as the Minister of Poland in London, was delegate
for his country. At this Conference certain proposals which had
been outlined by Trumbitch, and the Italian deputy, Dr. Torre,
were adopted as the basis of the future policy of the subject
nationalities. It was never made clear to me how far the convening
of the Conference, with regard to which I had received no instructions
of any kind, was regarded as having the official countenance of
H.M.'s Government. The Italian Government do not seem to have
recognized it as having any official character. The Minister for
Foreign Affairs indeed told Mr. Steed that he had not altogether
approved of the "Congress" before it met, and had not
believed in its success. In any case Sonnino could not be persuaded
to take a part in it either personally or by delegation. Nor would
he publicly pronounce himself on an issue which he was too wise
not to know by that time would be a foregone conclusion after
the termination of a successful war. Mr. Steed, who had been zealous
in promoting the Conference, has expressed the opinion that had
he been "a little firmer with him," he would have taken
Sonnino there in triumph. ['Through Thirty Years, H. Wickham
Steed, Vol. II, p. 210.] Although the latter acquiesced in the
resolutions adopted it would, I think, have needed greater firmness
than could be exercised on a Cabinet Minister even by the authoritative
foreign editor of The Times to induce him to intervene
personally and proclaim that acquiescence. Great progress had
indeed been made towards convincing public opinion in Italy of
the necessity for co-operating with the elements which were now
combining to promote the formation of a new southern Slav state.
But Sonnino, as I have more than once pointed out, was temperamentally
inclined to concentrate his thoughts rather on the potential dangers
than on the advantages of new ventures, and a powerful Slav state
might in the future, he no doubt believed, not necessarily become
a more comfortable neighbour than the old empire of the Habsburgs.
Some apprehension had, moreover, been created early in the year
by public utterances of Allied ministers regarding the aims of
the war, and by an apparent disposition to restrict those of Italy
to reunion with peoples of the same race. This postulate had been
narrowed in its connotation rather than widened by a declaration
of the President of the United States. The essential consideration
for Italy was a sound strategic frontier, and this could not be
secured without inclusion in the Kingdom of a considerable number
of Slovenes. In conversations which I had with Supilo, whose premature
death in the previous year I learned with genuine regret, as well
as with other leaders of the movement, I had found them generally
reasonable. Nor was Sonnino himself intractable in principle,
but his retentive bargaining instinct could not easily be brought
to anticipate the surrender of points which he held it prudent
to reserve. Orlando perhaps perceived more closely the advantages
of not delaying an opportune settlement. The Cabinet was not altogether
a happy family, and there was at this time reason to believe that
if Sonnino could not be induced to revise his attitude in certain
respects he might be forced by influences within the Ministry
to resign. For this very reason there was danger in an agitation
against him, promoted by foreign elements, in a country where
such intervention in internal affairs is often presumed and always
vehemently resented. The attitude of an influential editor who
was also a recognized agent of propaganda might easily be supposed
to have official endorsement. If, moreover, certain articles in
the New Europe, of which Mr. Steed was known to be one
of the founders, were designed to undermine the influence of Sonnino,
they had in reality rather the contrary effect of fortifying it,
since they assured him of the support of the Chauvinists.
The author of Through Thirty Years can hardly have seriously
expected Sonnino to tear up the London Treaty of 1915 which, having
been contracted before the dissolution of the Habsburg Empire
was contemplated, would obviously have to be modified in some
respects. He certainly does not spare the statesman who was so
unwise as not immediately to adopt his advice.
Barrère and I were also taken to task in the columns
of The Times for a presumed bias in favour of Sonnino's
views. It may be that we both of us hesitated to say all that
was in our minds to a visitor whose actual status had not been
definitely explained to us, and who represented an organ which
was then sometimes a supporter and sometimes a critic of the Government
which I was serving. But personally I had realized that Sonnino's
great work had by that time been accomplished and, knowing the
difficulties which his temperament would present in international
negotiations, I should certainly not have been sorry if circumstances
had enabled the representation of Italy at a Peace Conference
to fall into other hands. On the other hand, few outside that
country could appreciate as Barrère and I had been able
to do, how, through a long period, when the uncertainties of the
internal situation seemed chronic and when the advocates of thorough
were repeatedly in danger of finding themselves in a minority,
the character and determination of Sonnino had been the great
asset in keeping the direction of affairs on the right road. The
combination of official or semi-official with journalistic functions
in the same persons at this particular time was one of the manifestations
of the new diplomacy, the advantage of which seems very open to
question. Lord Northcliffe's enterprising lieutenant, if he sometimes
worked for propaganda purposes on quite independent lines, was
apparently an authorized agent, while as a journalist he retained
full liberty to criticize the Government. Such anomalies were
perhaps inevitable in times of war and crisis. But they were certainly
perplexing and sometimes harassing to responsible officials.
The direction of propaganda in Italy fell thereafter into the
hands of an "Italian Committee" established at Crewe
House. I had some difficulty in ascertaining its constitution,
which perhaps was meant to be, so far as I was concerned, one
of the "Secrets of Crewe House." It was from an Italian
newspaper that I first learned that Mr. Steed was the chairman
of a committee for propaganda in Italy. Since I was primarily
responsible for the relations between the two countries the discovery
was a little disconcerting, because Mr. Steed was, however unjustifiably,
regarded by the majority of opinion in that country as so ardent
a partisan of the Southern Slavs that it would be difficult for
him to take a wholly impartial view of certain issues, over which
conflicts of interest were sure to arise. Nor was the impression
thereby produced diminished when an emissary from the Committee,
who had been a Catholic priest but had renounced his vocation
and married, arrived on the spot with his wife. Italians, even
when not profoundly religious, are prejudicially affected by traditional
habits of thought, and it was obviously unfortunate to select
for official or semi-official duties in Rome an individual, however
capable, zealous and agreeable, who happened to have these particular
antecedents. It seemed to connote a certain cynicism on our part
in regard to Italian opinion. I had received instructions to forward
in code any telegrams which the representative of the Committee
might have occasion to send home, and was therefore bound to do
so. But when he brought me many pages of manuscript embodying
what no doubt appeared to a novice to be important discoveries,
which had, in so far as they were worth reporting, all been reported
long ago, I suggested that a letter sent by messenger would be
more economical and almost as expeditious. As he pressed me to
telegraph his observations I then proposed some condensation,
which was agreed to. This and subsequent communications of the
same nature gave my already fully-occupied staff additional and,
I could not but think, rather unnecessary work. The messages occasionally,
moreover, contained statements with which I felt obliged to record
my dissent.
This reference to the vicarious transmission of messages recalls
one of the most disagreeable episodes in my experience through
these abnormal years. During a sojourn in Rome Dr. Weizmann, the
leader of the Zionist movement, entrusted me with certain confidential
telegrams for dispatch. A first draft of one of these, the purport
of which would have been incomprehensible to anyone not aware
of its antecedents, fell into the hands, by what surreptitious
means I do not know, of a young officer staying in the same hotel
who, though then wearing a British uniform, had several years
before obtained an introduction to me from a former American Ambassador
as a fellow-countryman of his own. Obsessed with the detective
spirit he apparently assumed this document to be a message from
a German spy, brought it to the Embassy, and showed it to the
military attaché. As I was already fully aware of the contents
of Dr. Weizmann's messages the rough copy had no interest for
me, and in view of reports received from our military authorities
I had thought it prudent to decline any further relations with
the officer in question. The result was that in a certain notorious
trial, in which he afterwards played a conspicuous part, he publicly
accused me of having been blackmailed by the German Government,
alleging in proof of this assertion that I had refused to receive
his evidence of the activities of a German spy in Rome. It was
very intolerable that such a charge should be recklessly advanced
in a court of law against an official who had served his country
honourably for five and thirty years, but I was advised, and no
doubt rightly, that no notice should be taken of such a preposterous
accusation.
Meanwhile the last big German offensive on the Western front
had begun, and the brunt of the attack was directed against certain
weak and tired British divisions which had been placed in what
had been regarded as a quiet sector, where they would have a chance
of recuperating. We had now in our turn to experience days of
intense anxiety. Six of the Allied divisions sent to Italy at
the end of 1917 were then withdrawn to make good the losses entailed
by the German success. During this critical phase my personal
servant and good friend, Quartermaster-Sergeant Smith, who had
joined the Field Artillery on the outbreak of war, was made a
prisoner. On his return after the Armistice, he told me he had
no reason to complain of the treatment he had received. He would
indeed have come off very badly, but for the boxes of food we
had sent to him, but if the Germans gave them very little, they
had no more themselves. Smith did not long survive the end of
the war, which had broken his health, and he died of heart strain
in Rome, where he had been with us so long.
With the spring we had a series of distinguished visitors.
That splendid veteran, Sir Pertab Singh, passed through on his
way to join the forces in Palestine. In English he had remained
a man of few words. I told him that my son was there, and his
remark was characteristic : "Ah! What does he say ? Good
fighting country?" The Duke of Connaught stayed with us for
a couple of days, returning from Egypt, where he had spent the
winter with great benefit to his health. It was a happy coincidence
that his arrival synchronized with the anniversary celebration
of the entry of the United States into the war, and that he was
able to be present at an interesting ceremony.
For some time past Rome had become familiar with officers in
khaki hardly distinguishable from the British, save for the leather
band and peak of their caps, as well as with numerous officials
of the American Red Cross which had extended its benevolent activity
to all the associated countries. On the 6th of April they assembled
in the Colosseum, where a great concourse of citizens had gathered
to do honour to their country. That venerable pile has passed
through many vicissitudes since its erection by the Flavian emperors
as an amphitheatre in which to distract a populace which had to
be propitiated by public displays. The vast ellipse has echoed
with the tramp of parading gladiators and their shout of morituri
te salutant. It has seen the clash of galleys in mimic naval
war. It has heard the fierce battle cry of Frangipani or Orsini,
when as a fortress of the Middle Ages it dominated the city of
the Popes. It has been consecrated as a church dedicated to the
blood of martyrs, and such it remained with its twelve altars
and its central crucifix up to my own younger days. But never
can it have served so unanticipated a purpose as when from the
gallery whence the Emperors had watched the games, beneath the
flags of the Allies waving in unison with the Stars and Stripes,
the Ambassador of an undreamed republic and the President of the
American Red Cross, the latter speaking in the barbarous tongue
of Britain, addressed the people of Rome swarming over the arena
and the broken arches.
The arrival of the Prince of Wales on the Piave front immediately
after Caporetto had given immense satisfaction in Italy. Mr. Lloyd
George, in promising everything that was essential to our ally
was reported to have said: "You have a pledge already in
the presence of the Heir to the Throne." There was to be
a celebration at Rome of the anniversary of Italy's declaration
of war, the 24th of May, in the vast concert hall which has been
built on the circular core of the Mausoleum of Augustus. The Prince
came to the Embassy to spend a week's brief holiday and arrived
on the previous day. He had a great popular ovation in the capital.
The ceremony in the Augusteum, at which we sat in the box of the
Regent, the Duke of Genoa, was a very moving one. A glance round
the crowded arena revealed how representative a gathering had
met there. Senators, deputies, generals, officials and simple
men and women of the people, fathers and mothers of soldiers who
had given their lives for their country, or were holding the bulwark
of the Piave, were commingled in the stalls. One box was filled
with officers who had lost their sight in action. In another might
be seen the staff of the Czecho-Slovak division, formed chiefly
from prisoners of war, which was being trained and equipped in
Italy. In the gallery were the red shirts of Garibaldi's veterans.
After the orchestra had played the national anthems of the
Allies, and there were now a goodly number of these, the Syndic
of Rome, Don Prospero Colonna, addressed warm words of welcome
from the city to the Prince of Wales. He reminded those who were
present of the vow taken on the Capitol that same day in the year
1915 to maintain concord and sacrifice everything for the country.
The Prince then rose, and in a clear voice which carried well,
with just a little touch of boyish shyness that went straight
to the hearts of his audience, said that he had come to bring
a message of encouraging sympathy from the King his father and
his subjects in Great Britain and in the Dominions overseas. When
he concluded with these words:
"In the city of Rome, the ancient capital of the world, the source of social order and justice, I proudly proclaim my conviction that the great object for which our two nations are fighting against the forces of reaction is inevitably destined to triumph, thanks to the union of which our meeting to-nightis symbolic---"
there was an outburst of enthusiasm such as I have rarely witnessed.
The whole assembly had risen to their feet with the Prince. Many
of them had their own boys at the Front. Every face directed towards
the youthful figure in khaki wore a smiling look of affectionate
regard, and handkerchiefs were pressed to many eyes. Then over
the applause rang out once more the strain of "God save the
King." There is nothing more moving than the tense emotion
of a crowded assembly.
M. Lorand, the Belgian deputy, whose lectures, like those of
Destrée, on the tragedy of his country had stirred the
imagination of the people, spoke next with deep feeling in excellent
Italian. The speech of M. Simon, the French Minister of the Colonies,
was not less warmly received, and then Orlando, the President
of the Council, distinguished for his eloquence even in a nation
of orators, pronounced a stirring patriotic address. Towards the
close he described how on a recent visit to the Front he had found
himself exchanging a few words with a young British officer whose
simple and modest demeanour and whose friendly smile had gone
to his heart. And this young officer, he said, was the heir to
the greatest empire in the world. At these words the whole assembly
once more turned round to salute the Prince of Wales.
We had a party at the Embassy after a not too official dinner.
There was a visit to the Pontiff at the Vatican, a reception by
the Syndic at the Capitol, and a family dinner with the Queen
and the Royal Family at the Villa Savoia outside the city, where,
if it were becoming to lift the curtain of reserve that screens
the family life of the sovereign, an ideally happy home would
be revealed. For the rest of the week the Prince was free to spend
his holiday as he wished, walking about the city on foot. The
Romans showed admirable tact. If he was recognized they only lifted
their hats and passed on.
Another memorable episode was the visit of the United Guards'
bands, who were the guests of the State and were entertained in
the new barracks of the Carabinieri in the castle meadows. The
Italian people love pageantry, and a lament is often heard that
a perhaps mistaken interpretation of democratic sentiment has
tended to suppress the traditional pomp and circumstance of ceremonial
in their own country. The bands had a magnificent reception at
the concert which they gave in the Augusteum, but from a spectacular
point of view the most striking feature of the visit was the march
through the city down the Corso to the National Monument beside
the Capitol. There the massed scarlet tunics and bear-skins, with
the gold embroidered uniforms of the drum-majors in the front
line, relieving against the white marble of the lofty stairway
and colonnade under an Italian evening sky presented a picture
which could not readily be forgotten. The stately march, the perfect
alignment and the fine physique of that splendid body of guardsmen
seemed to the spectators typical of the discipline and stability
of their powerful ally. The visit was returned in due course in
London by the famous band of the Carabinieri Reali, the Corps
of Gendarmerie which is recruited among the best elements in the
country.
Lord Cavan also came to the Embassy for a short holiday. Among
many interesting experiences of which he told me, one seems particularly
worthy of record. In speaking of the distractions which were organized
for the British troops at the Italian front, he said that far
the most popular were Mr. Ainley's readings or recitations from
Shakespeare. Men, whom the ordinary concert or music-hall programme
did not tempt from their own quarters when free from duty, would
walk many miles to hear him interpret the master passages of literature.
About this time I received the welcome news that the Treasury
had been induced to consider relieving from income- and super-tax
the portion of diplomatic salaries which might fairly be regarded
not as personal remuneration, but rather as covering the inevitable
expenses of representation and the maintenance of Embassy and
Legation houses. The existing conditions had weighed very hardly
on officials abroad. My own salary had been fixed in the year
1871, when there was practically no income-tax, and when the cost
of living in Rome was relatively low. Seven thousand pounds a
year was then an ample figure on which to maintain the dignity
and obligations of an Ambassador. But, while those obligations
had increased rather than diminished and the cost of maintenance
had enormously advanced, the salary had been reduced by income-
and super-tax, in addition to a deduction of £4 for every
day spent on leave, to barely £4,000 a year. When invited
to state my opinion on the subject I was reminded that the exchange
was already then considerably in our favour. The contention seemed
plausible, but the rate of wages and the scale of prices rose
consistently as the exchange depreciated. So far as I was personally
concerned I had not pressed this matter as long as our private
means enabled us to supplement the salary. But I had more than
once made representations on behalf of my staff. The public had
probably little idea of the conditions under which our service,
often in trying climates and always in exile from home, was then
carried on. During the earlier phase of the war, I had at one
time five gentlemen working in the chancery, among whom I do not
include the Counsellor. Of these, one who had some fourteen years'
service was drawing about £400 a year. Two others with eight
or more years' service received £150 each, while the other
two, being honorary attachés, had no pay at all. The cost
to the country of all five was therefore approximately £700
a year. Since my retirement the whole scale of diplomatic salaries
has been revised, and they now compare not unfavourably with those
of other branches of the public service.
The severe stress on the Western front had hardly been relaxed
when the offensive was resumed against the lines behind the Piave.
The enemy, fifty divisions strong, advanced across the river bed
in several places and achieved some initial success. But he was
well held by the reserves of the defence, and I received generally
reassuring information regarding the progress of the action. On
the afternoon of the 23rd of June, my wife had organized a concert
in the Embassy garden in aid of the wounded and of a sanatorium
for tuberculous children. It had been a cloudy day with occasional
rain, but all Rome was assembled on the lawn. I had just gone
on to the stage to tell the conductor of the Augusteum orchestra
that he might begin, when to my surprise I saw Signor Orlando,
the President of the Council, rapidly making his way up the gangway
between the seats. Mounting the stage he clasped my hand and jubilantly
announced that the Austrians had been thrown back along the whole
front from Montello to the sea, and that there was not an enemy
left on the western bank of the river. While he was speaking the
clouds broke and the sun shone over the stage. In an access of
enthusiasm Orlando threw his arms round my neck and the audience
went wild with excitement while the orchestra struck up the Royal
March.
The battle of the Piave, the first big general action since
Caporetto, was really the decisive point of the war in Italy.
It came at a moment when the Allies badly needed a victory, and
was the first of the long series of successes which were to end
the war. The Italian armies had had time to recover from the demoralizing
effects of the retreat. The enemy had thrown his last stake and
lost the cast. The week's fighting cost the Austrians 135,000
in killed and wounded, to which must be added 24,000 prisoners.
They might still hold on for some time to the invaded territory,
but it was clear that they could not break the Piave line. Knowing
that a great gathering would be assembled in the Embassy garden,
Orlando, who had just received the telegram from head-quarters,
came straight up in his car to make the announcement there. It
was one of the most dramatic moments I have ever experienced.
Circumstances now enabled me to look forward to a longer leave
than I had been able to contemplate for many years. It was fortunately
possible to make it coincide with the summer holidays which my
family were to spend at our Surrey cottage, with the exception
of my eldest daughter, who was devoting the Oxford long vacation
to war work at the Admiralty, and my eldest son, who was in Palestine.
Passing through Paris we found every one wreathed in smiles. The
German retreat from Château-Thierry had begun, and the porters
at the station met us with the news of the number of prisoners
taken and guns abandoned. I spent a week in London, where Nitti
arrived about the same time.
Life in the country proved less difficult than we had anticipated,
though the rations of meat, butter and sugar allowed by our food
cards were very short. Tradesmen were unable to send to any distance,
and as there was an embargo on motorspirit, I had to take to the
bicycle once more and make foraging expeditions with the children
in search of the unrationed commodities, such as oxtails, for
which, in spite of their unpleasant classification as "offal,"
there was a great demand. In Rome my official position, the dignity
of which had to be maintained, entitled me to the use of a car.
In England I could claim no privileges, unusual as it might seem
for a Privy Councillor to be detected riding with a fish basket
loaded with liver or other unpleasant raw material on the front
of his bicycle, and a large block of ice which left a wet trail
along the road at the back. Our gardener was doing military duty
at an anti-aircraft station, and the abandoned flower beds provided
me with an occupation which contrasted pleasantly with the routine
of the last four years. We paid visits to Sutton, Highcliffe and
Buckhurst, where Hardinge came to spend a Sunday afternoon. I
gathered from him that the Foreign Office had, like the rest of
us, its difficulties with the amateur diplomatists. At 10 p.m.
on the evening of my return I received a telegraphic summons to
attend the Imperial Cabinet on the following morning. There were
no vehicles available, and the only way in which to arrive in
time was to bicycle to Guildford and catch an early train. Fortunately
in war-time a frock-coat and silk hat were not indispensable.
At 10 Downing Street I met the Dominion Ministers, Hughes, Borden
and Massey, as well as Lord Reading, who was also in England.
I lunched with Curzon, and then returned to come up again the
following day for an afternoon meeting. The Prime Minister was
most cordial, and expressed the hope that I should long remain
at my post. But I was already looking forward to the period of
liberty at home, which some thirty-six years of foreign service
made desirable as soon as the world's crisis could permit me conscientiously
to ask for release. The weeks passed rapidly with alternations
of business interviews and peaceful days in Surrey, the happier
because the information from the many fronts was encouraging,
and at last one could foresee the end. After a hasty visit with
my two younger boys to our relatives in Cornwall and my sister
in Devonshire, I started for Rome on the 16th of September, leaving
my wife to follow me a week later. Mr. Baker, the American Secretary
of State for War, was good enough to offer me a seat in his special
train from Boulogne to Paris. But this did not avail to accelerate
the journey, as there had been an accident in the neighbourhood
of Dijon, and I was forced to wait until the line had been cleared.