"Come at once; some one is about to die."
[Sidenote: A delay of execution expected.]
He went away to the prison; his frail, delicate little wife remained at
the Legation, and there, with my wife and Miss Larner, sat with those
women all that long evening, trying to comfort them, to reassure them.
Outside a cold rain was falling. Up in my chamber I waited; a stay of
execution would be granted, of course; they always were; there was not,
in our time, anywhere, a court, even a court martial, that would condemn
a woman to death at half-past four in the afternoon and hurry her out
and shoot her before dawn--not even a German court martial.
[Sidenote: Miss Cavell calm and courageous.]
When Mr. Gahan arrived at the prison that night Miss Cavell was lying on
the narrow cot in her cell; she arose, drew on a dressing gown, folded
it about her thin form, and received him calmly. She had never expected
such an end to the trial, but she was brave and was not afraid to die.
The judgment had been read to her that afternoon, there in her cell. She
had written letters to her mother in England and to certain of her
friends, and entrusted them to the German authorities.
She did not complain of her trial; she had avowed all, she said; and it
is one of the saddest, bitterest ironies of the whole tragedy that she
seems not to have known that all she had avowed was not sufficient, even
under German law, to justify the judgment passed upon her. The German
chaplain had been kind, and she was willing for him to be with her at
the last, if Mr. Gahan could not be. Life had not been all happy for
her, she said, and she was glad to die for her country. Life had been
hurried, and she was grateful for these weeks of rest in prison.
"Patriotism is not enough," she said, "I must have no hatred and no
bitterness toward any one."
[Sidenote: Notes made in Bible and prayer-book.]
She received the sacrament, she had no hatred for any one, and she had
no regrets. In the touching report that Mr. Gahan made there is a
statement, one of the last that Edith Cavell ever made, which, in its
exquisite pathos, illuminates the whole of that life of stern duty, of
human service and martyrdom. She said that she was grateful for the six
weeks of rest she had just before the end. During those weeks she had
read and reflected; her companions and her solace were her Bible, her
prayer-book and the "Imitation of Christ." The notes she made in these
books reveal her thoughts in that time, and will touch the uttermost
depths of any nature nourished in that beautiful faith which is at once
so tender and so austere. The prayer-book with those laconic entries on
its fly-leaf, in which she set down the sad and eloquent chronology of
her fate, the copy of the "Imitation" which she had read and marked
during those weeks in prison--weeks, which, as she so pathetically said,
had given her rest and quiet and time to think in a life that had been
"so hurried"--and the passages noted in her firm hand have a deep and
appealing pathos.
Just before the end, too, as I have said, she wrote a number of letters.
She forgot no one. Among the letters that she left one was addressed to
the nurses of her school; and there was a message for a girl who was
trying to break herself of the morphine habit--Miss Cavell had been
trying to help her, and she sent her word to be brave, and that if God
would permit she would continue to try to help her.
[Sidenote: The petitioners fail.]
Midnight came, and Gibson, with a dark face, and de Leval, paler than
ever. There was nothing to be done.
[Sidenote: Errand of Marquis Villalobar, Gibson and de Leval.]
De Leval had gone to Gibson, and together they went in search of the
Marquis, whom they found at Baron Lambert's, where he had been dining;
he and Baron Lambert and M. Francqui were over their coffee. The three,
the Marquis, Gibson and de Leval, then went to the Rue Lambermont. The
little Ministry was closed and dark; no one was there. They rang, and
rang again, and finally the _concierge_ appeared--no one was there, he
said. They insisted. The _concierge_ at last found a German functionary
who came down, stood staring stupidly; every one was gone; _son
Excellence_ was at the theater. At what theater? He did not know. They
urged him to go and find out. He disappeared inside, went up and down
stairs two or three times, finally came out and said that he was at Le
Bois Sacre. They explained that the presence of the Baron was urgent and
asked the man to go for him; they turned over the motor to him and he
mounted on the box beside Eugene. They reached the little variety
theater there in the Rue d'Arenberg. The German functionary went in and
found the Baron, who said he could not come before the piece was over.
[Sidenote: The sad wait for der Lancken.]
All this while Villalobar, Gibson and de Leval were in the salon at the
Ministry, the room of which I have spoken so often as the yellow salon,
because of the satin upholstery of its Louis XVI. furniture of white
lacquer--that bright, almost laughing little salon, all done in the
gayest, lightest tones, where so many little dramas were played. All
three of them were deeply moved and very anxious--the eternal contrast,
as de Leval said, between things and sentiments. Lancken entered at
last, very much surprised to find them; he was accompanied by Count
Harrach and by the young Baron von Falkenhausen.
"What is it, gentlemen?" he said. "Has something serious happened?"
They told him why they were there, and Lancken, raising his hands, said:
"_Impossible!_"
[Sidenote: Der Lancken believes the rumor false.]
He had vaguely heard that afternoon of a condemnation for spying, but he
did not know that it had anything to do with the case of Miss Cavell,
and in any event it was impossible that they would put a woman to death
that night.
"Who has given you this information? Because, to come and disturb me at
such an hour you must have actual information," he said.
De Leval replied: "Without doubt I consider it so, but I must refuse to
tell you from whom I received the information. Besides, what difference
does it make? If the information is true, our presence at this hour is
justified; if it is not true, I am ready to take the consequences of my
mistake."
The Baron grew irritated.
"What," he said, "is it on the hint of mere rumor that you come and
disturb me at such an hour, me and these gentlemen? No, no, gentlemen,
this news can not be true. Orders are never executed with such
precipitation, especially when a woman is concerned. Come and see me
to-morrow. Besides, how do you think that at this hour I can obtain any
information? The Governor-General must certainly be sleeping."
Gibson, or one of them, suggested to him that a very simple way of
finding out would be to telephone to the prison.
"Quite right," said he. "I had not thought of that."
He went out, was gone a few minutes and came back embarrassed, so they
said, even a little bit ashamed, for he said:
[Sidenote: The sad news confirmed.]
"You are right, gentlemen; I have heard by telephone that Miss Cavell
has been condemned and that she will be shot to-night."
Then de Leval drew out the letter that I had written to the Baron and
gave it to him, and he read it in an undertone--with a little sardonic
smile, de Leval said--and when he had finished he handed it back to de
Leval and said:
[Sidenote: The plea for mercy.]
"But it is necessary to have a plea for mercy at the same time."
"Here it is," said de Leval, and gave him the document. Then they all
sat down.
[Sidenote: Von der Lancken's attitude.]
[Sidenote: Miss Cavell not a spy.]
I could see the scene as it was described to me by Villalobar, by
Gibson, by de Leval, in that pretty little Louis XVI. salon that I knew
so well--Lancken giving way to an outburst of feeling against "that
spy," as he called Miss Cavell, and Gibson and de Leval by turns
pleading with him, the Marquis sitting by. It was not a question of
spying as they pointed out; it was a question of the life of a woman, a
life that had been devoted to charity, to helping others. She had nursed
wounded soldiers, she had even nursed German wounded at the beginning of
the war, and now she was accused of but one thing: having helped English
soldiers make their way toward Holland. She may have been imprudent, she
may have acted against the laws of the occupying power, but she was not
a spy, she was not even accused of being a spy, she had not been
convicted of spying, and she did not merit the death of a spy. They sat
there pleading, Gibson and de Leval, bringing forth all the arguments
that would occur to men of sense and sensibility. Gibson called
Lancken's attention to their failure to inform the Legation of the
sentence, of their failure to keep the word that Conrad had given. He
argued that the offense charged against Miss Cavell had long since been
accomplished, that as she had been for some weeks in prison a slight
delay in carrying out the sentence could not endanger the German cause;
he even pointed out the effect such a deed as the summary execution of
the death sentence against a woman would have upon public opinion, not
only in Belgium, but in America, and elsewhere; he even spoke of the
possibility of reprisals.
[Sidenote: The military authority supreme.]
But it was all in vain. Baron von der Lancken explained to them that the
Military Governor, that is, General von Saubersweig, was the supreme
authority in matters of this sort, that an appeal from his decision lay
only to the Emperor, that the Governor-General himself had no authority
to intervene in such cases, and that under the provisions of German
martial law it lay within the discretion of the Military Governor
whether he would accept or refuse an appeal for clemency. And then
Villalobar suddenly cried out:
"Oh, come now! It's a woman; you can't shoot a woman like that!"
The Baron paused, was evidently moved.
"Gentlemen," he said, "it is past eleven o'clock; what can be done?"
[Sidenote: Lancken goes to von Saubersweig.]
It was only von Saubersweig who could act, he had said, and they urged
the Baron to go to see von Saubersweig. Finally he consented. While he
was gone Villalobar, Gibson and de Leval repeated to Harrach and von
Falkenhausen all the arguments that might move them. Von Falkenhausen
was young, he had been to Cambridge in England, and he was touched,
though of course he was powerless. And de Leval says that when he gave
signs of showing pity, Harrach cast a glance at him, so that he said
nothing more, and then Harrach said:
"The life of one German soldier seems to us much more important than
that of all these old English nurses."
[Sidenote: Lancken's return.]
At last Lancken returned and, standing there, announced:
"I am exceedingly sorry, but the Governor tells me that only after due
reflection was the execution decided upon, and that he will not change
his decision. Under his prerogative he even refuses to receive the plea
for mercy. Therefore, no one, not even the Emperor, can do anything for
you."
[Sidenote: The plea for mercy handed back.]
With this he handed my letter and the _requete en grace_ back to Gibson.
There was a moment of silence in the yellow salon. Then Villalobar
sprang up and seizing Lancken by the shoulder said to him in an
energetic tone:
"Baron, I wish to speak to you."
"It is useless," began Lancken.
[Sidenote: The Marquis Villalobar pleads.]
But the old Spanish pride had been mounting in the Marquis, and he
literally dragged the tall von der Lancken into a little room near by,
and then voices were heard in sharp discussion, and even through the
partition the voice of Villalobar:
"It is idiotic, this thing you are going to do; you will have another
Louvain."
A few moments later they came back, Villalobar in silent rage, Lancken
very red. And, as de Leval said, without another word, dumb, in
consternation, filled with an immense despair, they came away.
[Sidenote: The messengers withdraw.]
I heard the report, and they withdrew. A little while and I heard the
street door open. The women who had waited all that night went out into
the rain.
The rain had ceased and the air was soft and warm the next morning; the
sunlight shone through an autumn haze. But over the city the horror of
the dreadful deed hung like a pall.
[Sidenote: Other prisoners condemned.]
Twenty-six others were condemned with Miss Cavell, four of whom were
sentenced to death: Philippe Baucq, an architect of Brussels; Louise
Thuiliez, a school-teacher at Lille; Louis Severin, a pharmacist of
Brussels; and the Countess Jeanne de Belleville of Montignies-sur-Roc.
[Sidenote: Severe sentences.]
Harman Capian, a civil engineer of Wasmes; Mrs. Ada Bodart of Brussels;
Albert Libiez, a lawyer of Wasmes; and Georges Derveau, a pharmacist of
Paturages, were sentenced each to fifteen years' penal servitude at hard
labor.
The Princess Maria de Croy was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude
at hard labor.
Seventeen others were sentenced to hard labor or to terms of
imprisonment of from two to five years. The eight remaining were
acquitted.
[Sidenote: The people horrified at Miss Cavell's execution.]
All day long sad and solemn groups stood under the trees in the
boulevards amid the falling leaves discussing the crime in horrified
tones. The horror of it pervaded the house. I found my wife weeping at
evening; no need to ask what was the matter; the wife of the chaplain
had been there, with some detail of Miss Cavell's last hours: how she
had arisen wearily from her cot at the coming of the clergyman, drawing
her dressing-gown about her thin throat.
[Sidenote: The body not given to friends.]
I sent a note to Baron von der Lancken asking that the Governor-General
permit the body of Miss Cavell to be buried by the American Legation and
the friends of the dead girl. In reply he came himself to see me in the
afternoon. He was very solemn, and said that he wished to express his
regret in the circumstances, but that he had done all he could. The
body, he said, had already been interred, with respect and with
religious rites, in a quiet place, and under the law it could not be
exhumed without an order from the Imperial Government. The
Governor-General himself had gone to Berlin.
[Sidenote: Whitlock and Villalobar.]
And then came Villalobar, and I thanked him for what he had done. He
told me much, and described the scene the night before in that anteroom
with Lancken. The Marquis was much concerned about the Countess Jeanne
de Belleville and Madame Thuiliez, both French, and hence protegees of
his, condemned to die within eight days; but I told him not to be
concerned; that the effect of Miss Cavell's martyrdom did not end with
her death; it would procure other liberations, this among them; the
thirst for blood had been slaked and there would be no more executions
in that group; it was the way of the law of blood vengeance. We talked a
long time about the tragedy and about the even larger tragedy of the
war.
"We are getting old," he said. "Life is going; and after the war, if we
live in that new world, we shall be of the old--the new generation will
push us aside."
[Sidenote: Miss Cavell's death wins mercy for others.]
Gibson and de Leval prepared reports of the whole matter, and I sent
them by the next courier to our Embassy at London. But somehow that very
day the news got into Holland and shocked the world. Richards, of the
C. R. B., just back from The Hague, said that they had already heard of
it there and were filled with horror. And even the Germans, who seemed
always to do a deed and to consider its effect afterward, knew that they
had another Louvain, another _Lusitania_, for which to answer before the
bar of civilization. The lives of the three others remaining, of the
five condemned to death, were ultimately spared, as I had told
Villalobar they would be. The King of Spain and the President of the
United States made representations at Berlin in behalf of the Countess
de Belleville and Madame Thuiliez, and their sentences were commuted to
imprisonment, as was that of Louis Severin, the Brussels druggist. The
storm of universal loathing and reprobation for the deed was too much
even for the Germans.
* * * * *
In an earlier chapter we have read of the beginning of the attempt to
cross the Dardanelles and to capture the Peninsula of Gallipoli. After
great losses and terrible suffering had been endured in these attempts,
it was decided in December, 1915, by the British war authorities that
further sacrifices were not justified. Preparations were accordingly
made to abandon the enterprise. How these plans were carried out is told
in the chapter following.
GALLIPOLI ABANDONED
GENERAL SIR CHARLES C. MONRO
On October 20, 1915, in London, I received instructions to proceed as
soon as possible to the Near East and take over the command of the
Mediterranean Expeditionary Force.
[Sidenote: General Monro's orders on arrival.]
My duty on arrival was in broad outline:
(a) To report on the military situation on the Gallipoli Peninsula.
(b) To express an opinion whether on purely military grounds the
Peninsula should be evacuated or another attempt made to carry it.
(c) The number of troops that would be required--
(1) To carry the Peninsula.
(2) To keep the strait open, and
(3) To take Constantinople.
[Sidenote: Military defects in positions occupied.]
The positions occupied by our troops presented a military situation
unique in history. The mere fringe of the coast line had been secured.
The beaches and piers upon which they depended for all requirements in
personnel and material were exposed to registered and observed artillery
fire. Our intrenchments were dominated almost throughout by the Turks.
The possible artillery positions were insufficient and defective. The
force, in short, held a line possessing every possible military defect.
The position was without depth, the communications were insecure and
dependent on the weather.
No means existed for the concealment and deployment of fresh troops
destined for the offensive--while the Turks enjoyed full powers of
observation, abundant artillery positions, and they had been given the
time to supplement the natural advantages which the position presented
by all the devices at the disposal of the field engineer.
[Sidenote: Disease, loss of competent officers, make-shift
organization.]
Another material factor came prominently before me. The troops on the
Peninsula had suffered much from various causes--exposure to shell fire,
disease, the dearth of competent officers owing to earlier losses, and
"make-shifts" due to the attachment of Yeomanry and Mounted Brigades to
the Territorial Divisions. Other arguments, irrefutable in their
conclusions, convinced me that a complete evacuation was the only wise
course to pursue.
[Sidenote: Consequences of unusual storms.]
On November 21, 1915 the Peninsula was visited by a storm said to be
nearly unprecedented for the time of the year. The storm was accompanied
by torrential rain, which lasted for twenty-four hours. This was
followed by hard frost and a heavy blizzard. In the areas of the Eighth
Corps and the Anzac Corps the effects were not felt to a very marked
degree owing to the protection offered by the surrounding hills. The
Ninth Corps was less favorably situated, the water courses in this area
became converted into surging rivers, which carried all before them. The
water rose in many places to the height of the parapets and all means of
communications were prevented.
The men, drenched as they were by the rain, suffered from the subsequent
blizzard most severely. Large numbers collapsed from exposure and
exhaustion, and in spite of untiring efforts that were made to mitigate
the suffering I regret to announce that there were 200 deaths from
exposure and over 10,000 sick evacuated during the first few days of
December.
From reports given by deserters it is probable that the Turks suffered
even to a greater degree.
[Sidenote: Difficulties pertaining to withdrawal.]
The problem with which we were confronted was the withdrawal of an army
of a considerable size from positions in no cases more than 300 yards
from the enemy's trenches, and its embarkation on open beaches, every
part of which was within effective range of Turkish guns, and from which
in winds from the south or southwest, the withdrawal of troops was not
possible.
I came to the conclusion that our chances of success were infinitely
more probable if we made no departure of any kind from the normal life
which we were following both on sea and on land. A feint which did not
fully fulfill its purpose would have been worse than useless, and there
was the obvious danger that the suspicions of the Turks would be aroused
by our adoption of a course the real purport of which could not have
been long disguised.
[Sidenote: Unsettled weather a menace.]
Rapidity of action was imperative, having in view the unsettled weather
which might be expected in the AEgean. The success of our operations was
entirely dependent on weather conditions. Even a mild wind from the
south or southwest was found to raise such a ground swell as to greatly
impede communication with the beaches, while anything in the nature of a
gale from this direction could not fail to break up the piers, wreck the
small craft, and thus definitely prevent any steps being taken toward
withdrawal.
[Sidenote: Evacuation of supplies continues satisfactorily.]
Throughout the period December 10 to 18, 1915 the withdrawal proceeded
under the most auspicious conditions, and the morning of December 18,
1915, found the positions both at Anzac and Suvla reduced to the numbers
determined, while the evacuation of guns, animals, stores, and supplies
had continued most satisfactorily.
It was imperative, of course, that the front-line trenches should be
held, however lightly, until the very last moment and that the
withdrawal from these trenches should be simultaneous throughout the
line.
The good fortune which had attended the evacuation continued during the
night of the 19th-20th. The night was perfectly calm with a slight haze
over the moon, an additional stroke of good luck, as there was a full
moon on that night.
[Sidenote: Final withdrawals from Anzac and Suvla.]
Soon after dark the covering ships were all in position, and the final
withdrawal began. At 1:30 A. M. the withdrawal of the rear parties
commenced from the front trenches at Suvla and the left of Anzac. Those
on the right of Anzac who were nearer the beach remained in position
until 2 A. M. By 5:30 A. M. the last man had quit the trenches.
At Anzac, four 18-pounder guns, two 5-inch howitzers, one 4.7 naval gun,
one anti-air craft, and two 3-pounder Hotchkiss guns were left, but they
were destroyed before the troops finally embarked. In addition,
fifty-six mules, a certain number of carts, mostly stripped of their
wheels, and some supplies which were set on fire, were also abandoned.
[Sidenote: A few supplies destroyed.]
At Suvla every gun, vehicle and animal was embarked, and all that
remained was a small stock of supplies, which were burned.
On December 28, 1915, your Lordship's telegram ordering the evacuation
of Helles was received, whereupon, in view of the possibility of bad
weather intervening, I instructed the General Officer Commanding
Dardanelles Army to complete the operation as rapidly as possible. He
was reminded that every effort conditional on not exposing the personnel
to undue risk should be made to save all 60-pounder and 18-pounder
guns, 6-inch and 4.5 howitzers, with their ammunition and other
accessories, such as mules, and A. T. carts, limbered wagons, &c.
[Sidenote: Situation on Gallipoli Peninsula.]
[Sidenote: Increase in Turkish artillery.]