At the end of May, M. Ribot, accompanied by M. Painlevé, Minister of
War, came to London and laid before the British Government his
solution. Again our allies found on this side of the Channel "_des
scrupules_"; and again they set themselves to demonstrate that "_des
scrupules, si légitimes soient-ils_," weigh light against interests.
Even when the principle was conceded, there still lingered some
disquietude regarding the practicability of bringing about the King's
dethronement without bloodshed. But the French did not share this
disquietude, and, after three days' hard talking, they converted the
English Ministers to their point of view. It was agreed that the
operation should be carried out without war. The only measures of a
military nature to which the British Government consented were the
establishment in Thessaly of outposts for the control of the crops, and
the occupation of the Isthmus of Corinth, should King Constantine
attempt to move his army out of the Peloponnesus: unless the King
committed acts of hostility, no violence should be used. Having thus
satisfied their conscience, the British Ministers abstained from any
closer scrutiny.[1]
The task was entrusted to M. Jonnart, a Senator of large African
experience, who, armed with the title of High Commissioner of the
Protecting Powers of Greece, set out at once "to re-establish the
constitutional verity"--such was the formula. "His Majesty King
Constantine, having manifestly violated, on his own initiative, the
Constitution of which France, Great Britain, and Russia are the
guarantors, has lost the confidence of the Protecting Powers, and they
consider themselves released from the obligations to him resulting from
their rights of protection." [2]
With the violation of the Constitution by King Constantine we have
already dealt exhaustively. We must here {187} deal as exhaustively
with the three Powers' claim to act as its "guarantors" and their
"rights of protection."
The claim rested on a phrase in the Treaty of 13 July, 1863, between
them and Denmark, concerning the accession to the Hellenic throne of
the late King: "Greece, under the sovereignty of Prince William of
Denmark and the guarantee of the three Courts, forms a monarchical,
independent, and constitutional State." [3] That guarantee was no
innovation, and had no reference to the Constitution. The Protocol of
the Conference held on 26 June, 1863, explains that "as regards the
guarantee of the political existence of the Kingdom of Greece, the
three Protecting Powers maintain simply the terms in which it is
enunciated in Article IV of the Convention of 7 May, 1832," [4]--that
is, the Convention between the three Powers and Bavaria concerning the
accession to the Hellenic throne of her first King. Turning to that
document, we find Article IV running as follows: "Greece, under the
sovereignty of the Prince Otho of Bavaria, and under the guarantee of
the three Courts, shall form a monarchical and independent State,
according to the terms of the Protocol signed between the said Courts
on the 3rd of February, 1830, and accepted both by Greece and by the
Ottoman Porte." And above it, in Article I, we read: "The Courts of
Great Britain, France and Russia, duly authorized for the purpose by
the Greek Nation, offer the hereditary sovereignty of Greece to the
Prince Frederick Otho of Bavaria." [5] Nothing could be plainer than
that the guarantee referred to the "political existence of Greece," not
to her constitutional form of government, and that the three Powers in
disposing of her throne acted, not by their own authority, but by the
authority of the Greek Nation, which alone had the right to do so, and
which exercised that right directly in choosing its last king. But
this is not all. Turning to the Protocol of the 3rd of February, 1830,
we read in its very first article: "Greece shall form an independent
State, and shall enjoy all the rights, political, administrative and
commercial, pertaining to complete independence." [6]
{188}
As to the term "protection" occasionally employed by the three Powers,
and by the Greeks themselves, its true sense can be shown beyond
ambiguity. "Greece," wrote the Duke of Wellington, "once established
and her boundaries guaranteed as proposed, she will have the same right
to assistance and protection against foreign aggression as any other
State in Europe, of which there are many, which exercise an independent
action in all their concerns, external as well as internal." Far from
claiming to limit her independence in any way, the British Foreign
Secretary emphatically declared "that the permanent policy of this
country towards Greece must be friendly, if Greece should be really
independent and conduct herself as an independent Power." [7]
Likewise, the French Minister for Foreign Affairs, tracing the history
of events and negotiations which culminated in the establishment of
Greek freedom, dwelt on France's successful desire "not only to
liberate Greece from the Ottoman yoke, but to make of Greece a real
State, a State independent in right and in fact, a State that should
not be put officially under the tutelage of anyone, a State that should
not need any perpetual semi-official intervention." By thus making
Greece "free to choose her friends and allies," and "not under anyone's
protection," the French expected that she would "look towards France,
who can promise her, in need, her assistance without menacing her with
her protection." The Minister concluded by boasting that "the success
is complete. Greece exists, she is independent. All Europe recognizes
her: she depends on no Power either as sovereign or as guarantor." [8]
Since the date of these documents and statements, practice had
confirmed the principles enunciated in them. As a completely
independent Power Greece had waged wars and concluded treaties with
other Powers. It is true that on certain occasions she was prevented
from fighting by coercive measures; but these measures were not taken
by the three Powers--sometimes they were {189} taken by two alone;
sometimes by the whole Concert of Europe--nor were they taken in virtue
of any right other than the right of the stronger. Likewise, Greece
had framed and revised her Constitution, dethroned and enthroned Kings
without asking anyone's permission or sanction. It is true that in her
domestic revolutions the influence of the three Powers could be plainly
detected, but it was wholly in the nature of backstairs
intrigue--carried on by each against the others--such as even the
greatest Empires experience on the part of interested outsiders. In
short, since its birth until 1916, no one had dreamt of questioning the
status of the Hellenic Kingdom as a completely independent Power, or
attempted to give to "the guarantee of the political existence of
Greece," which aimed at securing her against external aggression, the
interpretation that it referred to her form of government and conferred
a right of interference in her internal affairs.
The present interference, clearly, had no more legal basis than all the
other invasions to which Greece had submitted during the War under
protest. Casuistry was merely called in to cloak the exigencies of
policy: King Constantine's dethronement was decreed, not because it was
lawful, but because France required it, and England, for good reasons,
could not let France bring it about alone: what Russia thought of the
transaction, she soon let the whole world know with disconcerting
bluntness. Petrograd not only withdrew her troops from the
performance, but made short work of the "guarantee" and "protection"
quibbles by roundly declaring that "the choice of the form of
government in Greece, as well as its administrative organization,
appertains exclusively to the Greek people." [9]
Meanwhile M. Jonnart sped eastward, eager and determined to serve the
Imperialist ambitions of the French Republic in the Orient. His
mandate gave him unlimited choice of means, diplomatic and military,
and he fully justified the trust placed in his tact. On the maxim
that, the more prompt the display of force, the less likely the
occasion to use it, he decided, contrary to the instructions he had
received in London, not to wait and see whether {190} King Constantine
meditated hostile acts or not; he arranged for the necessary naval
measures with Admiral Gauchet, whom he met off Corfu, and, after a
brief stop in the Road of Salamis, he hastened to Salonica, where he
arranged with General Sarrail for the military measures: a simultaneous
invasion of Thessaly, occupation of the Isthmus of Corinth, and a
landing at Athens. At the same time he conferred with M. Venizelos,
who pronounced all these arrangements excellent, and suggested that,
after the removal of the King, he must give the public mind time to
calm down before returning to Athens: in the interval M. Zaimis might
be left in power. The period of transition should perhaps last several
months: a prudent counsel with which M. Jonnart fully concurred: both
he and M. Ribot recognized the danger of hurrying the return of the
Cretan to a city which he had been describing as ready to embrace him.
The programme settled in all its details, M. Jonnart left Salonica with
General Regnault, who was put in command of the divisions told off for
Corinth and Athens, and in the evening of 9 June arrived in the Road of
Salamis, where he took up his abode on board the ironclad _Justice_.[19]
Here the most delicate part of his mission, and the one in which he
displayed most of his tact, commenced. On the following evening (10
June) he met M. Zaimis on board the _Bruix_ at the Piraeus. It was, as
we know, essential that M. Zaimis should be induced to remain in power
for a while, to bridge over the gap between the deposition of the King
and the elevation of M. Venizelos. But it was most unlikely that M.
Zaimis would consent to play the part assigned to him, if he knew what
he was doing. Therefore, at this first interview M. Jonnart did not
think fit to demand anything more than the control of the Thessalian
crops and the occupation of the Isthmus of Corinth. Agreeably
surprised at demands which fell so far short of the objects with which
rumour had credited the High Commissioner, the Premier raised no
difficulties; and M. Jonnart, in order "to gain his confidence," spoke
to him with his usual "accent of loyalty and frankness" about the
magnificent future the Protecting Powers had in store for Greece.
Then, under the pretence that he was awaiting {191} fresh instructions
that night, he made another appointment for the following morning.[11]
The Greek left, and next morning (11 June) returned to hear more. At
this second interview M. Jonnart handed to him an Ultimatum with a
twenty-four hours' limit, demanding that the King should abdicate and
go, after naming as his successor, not the legitimate Heir, but his
second son--a young man who, having no will of his own, was highly
recommended by M. Venizelos. Thus the re-establishment of
constitutional verity was to begin with the violation of a fundamental
article of the Constitution--the succession by order of
primogeniture.[12] M. Zaimis stood aghast--"wrung with emotion." M.
Jonnart spoke eloquently and urgently: the Powers only sought the unity
and liberty of Greece--the greatness of Greece, now divided, partly
dismembered, in a state of anarchy, on the eve of civil war. The High
Commissioner would do all that in him lay that the change of reign
might be accomplished in the most pacific manner. He appealed warmly
to the Premier's patriotism.[13]
According to some accounts, he added two more instances of his "loyalty
and frankness" by stating that, when the War was over, the Powers would
have no objection to the restoration of King Constantine, if such
should be the wish of the Greek people--a statement which he authorized
M. Zaimis to publish;[14] and that they had no intention to bring M.
Venizelos back: as soon as the unity of Greece was achieved, the
Salonica Government would disappear; only later on M. Venizelos might
return to office by the legal way and after new elections. On the
other hand, if the Ultimatum was not executed, he threatened the
downfall of the whole dynasty, the forcible establishment of a
Republic, and the immediate return of M. Venizelos.[15]
The interview ended with a grim declaration by M. Jonnart that, unless
his decree was obeyed to the letter, he would do to Athens what the
Germans had done to his native Arras--reduce it to a heap of ruins.[16]
{192}
There could be no doubt that M. Jonnart meant business: he was an
ex-Governor of Algeria; his mentality and his methods had been formed
in the African school of International Law. Remonstrance was futile
and resistance would be fatal: a column was already marching into
Thessaly; part of an army corps had landed at Corinth; a powerful
squadron rode off Salamis with its guns trained on Athens; troops were
in the ports of Piraeus and Phaleron ready at a signal to land and
march on the capital. Confronted with the choice either to help in the
pacific liberation of his country or to witness its devastation, M.
Zaimis chose the lesser evil; and M. Jonnart was able to report, with
pardonable complacency: "I persuaded him to continue in office, to take
the message demanding his abdication to the King, and to advise the
King to accept." [17]
With this message the Premier hurried off to Athens and straightway
communicated it to his sovereign. Immediately a Crown Council was
called at the Palace. Besides M. Zaimis, all the ex-Premiers and
leaders of parties were present: Rallis, Dragoumis, Skouloudis,
Gounaris, Lambros, Calogeropoulos, Dimitracopoulos, Stratos. From the
first the King announced that he had decided to accept the Ultimatum
and leave Greece with the Crown Prince, in order to spare her greater
calamities, such as would result from a conflict with the Entente
Powers.
Whether Constantine would not have been better advised to have opposed
the landing of the Allies at Salonica; or interned their army when he
had it at his mercy; or arrested Admiral Dartige du Fournet and his
marines and held them, together with the Entente Ministers and
subjects, as hostages: whether by any of those acts he might not have
escaped this final blow, was now of small account: though the point
provides matter for very interesting speculation. Now, with his troops
and arms bottled up in the Peloponnesus and his people reduced by
starvation to helplessness, all chance of escape was cut off. A
pitiful situation, no doubt, but more pitiful had he attempted
resistance. In such event, the Powers would immediately declare that a
state of war existed {193} and France might acquire a permanent footing
by right of conquest.[18]
Nevertheless, two only of the statesmen assembled, M. Zaimis and M.
Stratos, pronounced in favour of submission. The rest were against it.
True, they argued, Greece completely disarmed could offer no effective
resistance to the armies and fleets which hemmed her in on every side.
Yet it were better that the King should let violence be used against
him, better that he should be made the Powers' prisoner, than yield.
His hopes of sparing Greece greater calamities by his abnegation were
vain. No calamity could be greater than that which would be produced
by an acceptance of M. Jonnart's Ultimatum. They recalled all the
encroachments upon her neutrality, all the infringements of her
sovereignty, to which Greece had submitted unresistingly, trusting to
the Allies' solemn promises. And how had they kept those promises?
After the violation of so many pledges, how was it possible to put
faith in M. Jonnart's assurances? If the French troops pursued their
march into the country, imposed upon it Venizelos by force, dragged it
into the war, who could stop them? Better perish without dishonour.
Such, in substance, were the arguments used. The King remained
unshaken. "We have no right to doubt the good faith of M. Jonnart," he
said. Despite past experience, the man who was perpetually accused of
having no scruple about breaking his word, was still slow to believe
that others could break theirs. He made all present promise that they
would use their utmost endeavours to have his decision accepted by the
people, so that no disturbance might aggravate a situation already
sufficiently menacing. They all left the Council Chamber in tears.[19]
In the afternoon a Cabinet meeting took place under the presidency of
the King, who, quite unmoved by the objections and entreaties of his
Ministers, persisted in his resolution. It was then decided that M.
Zaimis should draw up the reply, and that the draft, after receiving
the {194} King's approval, should be communicated to M. Jonnart. This
was done, and M. Jonnart having declared himself satisfied, the
document was handed to him next morning. By that reply the Greek
Premier, after noting the three Powers' demand for the abdication of
King Constantine and the designation of his successor, briefly stated
that "His Majesty, solicitous as always only for the interest of
Greece, has decided to quit the country" (_not_ to abdicate) "with the
Crown Prince, and designates as his successor Prince Alexander." [10]
Thus far the High Commissioner's enterprise had prospered beyond the
anticipations of the most sanguine. And now his anxieties began. From
the moment of his arrival the populace, which two years of contact with
the Allies had made suspicious, became very uneasy and excited.
Throughout the night of 10 June rumours circulated that an ultimatum of
an extreme nature had been presented to the Government. Groups were
formed in the streets and squares, discussing the situation,
criticizing the Government bitterly, and inveighing against M. Zaimis,
who, it was said, was ready to accept still more rigorous demands. The
crowds grew in numbers and vehemence as the night advanced; and, in the
morning of the 11th, while M. Zaimis was still with M. Jonnart, the
Government, to avert disturbances, issued a _communiqué_, stating that
all the rumours of fresh demands were devoid of foundation. The
Premier in his first conversation with the representative of the three
Powers had not detected any danger whatever either to the independence
of the country or to the dynasty or to the regime. On the contrary, M.
Jonnart had expressed the will of the Powers to see Greece great,
strong, and absolutely independent. Consequently the Greek people
ought to remain quiet, certain that by its peaceful conduct it would
contribute to the success of the King's and the Government's
efforts.[21]
This declaration had calmed the public for a few hours. But after the
return of M. Zaimis from his second interview with the High
Commissioner, the object of M. Jonnart's mission began to leak out: the
whisper went round that the King's abdication was demanded. The hasty
{195} convocation of a Crown Council intensified the public uneasiness.
The special measures for the maintenance of order taken by the
authorities, the advice to keep calm whatever happened, which emanated
from every influential quarter, the haggard faces of all those who came
out of the Palace, left no doubt that something very serious was afoot.
More, it became known that during the night the Isthmus of Corinth had
been occupied by large numbers of French troops which had taken up the
rails of the line joining the Peloponnesus to the capital, that the
French fleet in Salamis Strait had been reinforced, that the three
Powers' Ministers had quitted their Legations and nobody knew where
they had slept. Hour by hour the popular distress increased, until
late in the afternoon the news spread through the town that the King
had decided to go; and as it spread, the shops closed, the church bells
began to toll as for a funeral, and masses of people rushed from every
side towards the Palace, to prevent the King from going. Soon all
approaches to the Palace were blocked and the building itself was
completely besieged by a crowd of agitated men and sobbing women, all
demanding to see their sovereign, and shouting: "Don't go! Don't go!"
Numerous deputations appeared before the King and implored him to
change his mind--in vain. To one of them, sent by the officers of the
Athens garrison, he spoke as follows: "You know my decision. The
interest of our country demands that all, be they civilians or
soldiers, should submit to discipline. Keep calm and preserve your
prudence." To a delegation composed of the heads of the city guilds he
replied: "In the interests of the State, gentlemen, I am obliged to
leave the country. The people must have confidence in my advisers.
God will always be with us, and Greece will become happy again. I
adjure you, gentlemen, in the name of the Almighty, to offer no
opposition. Any reaction would be in the highest degree dangerous to
the State. If I, born and bred in Athens and Greek to the marrow of my
bones, decide to go, I don't do so, you understand well, except in
order to save my people and my country. Pray go to your corporations
and our fellow-citizens and tell them to cease from gathering: to be
calm and sensible, {196} because the King, at this moment, is
performing a sacred duty." [22]
The same delegation succeeded in reaching M. Zaimis, and on coming out
it published through a special edition of a journal the result: "The
Premier, with tears in his eyes, and the other three Ministers present
at the audience, after relating the sequence of political events which
have led to this cruel decision about our beloved King, begged us to
advise the people in his name to face the crisis with sang-froid, and
to assure it that the abdication of the King is but temporary, since,
according to M. Jonnart's declaration, it rests with the people to call
him back after the War; that all resistance on the part of the people
will result in the abolition of the dynasty and the establishment of a
Republic under Venizelos; that the Allies would not recoil from a
bombardment of the capital and a military occupation; but if the people
keep quiet, there will be no military occupation of Athens, only some
soldiers may land at the Piraeus to stretch their legs--and so on." [23]
Nothing, however, could allay the popular agony. As darkness fell,
Athens presented a strange sight--silent figures marching, one after
another, towards where King Constantine was spending his last night in
his capital. They made their forlorn pilgrimage without the least
noise, and as they went they passed other groups returning with equal
noiselessness. "It was," says an eye-witness, "as if the people of
Athens were visiting a tomb or a lying-in-state." [24]
A crowd remained on guard all night long. About 4.30 a.m. a motor car
was seen drawing up at a side entrance of the Palace. The crowd
recognized the King's chauffeur and guessed that he had come for the
King and the royal family, who presently appeared at the door. The
guardsmen threw themselves on the ground as much as to say that the
vehicle must pass over their bodies. The King and royal family
withdrew, and the car went away empty. Two other attempts to leave the
Palace proved equally unsuccessful. The crowd would not let any door
be opened. Compact and silent, it mounted guard.
{197}
So passed the night; and the morning (12 June) dawned on the faithful
men and women who watched by the Palace. The churches again began to
toll funeral peals, and again thousands began flowing in the same
direction: the whole town through all its streets--mournful groups,
soon waxing to mournful multitudes, and other multitudes, streamed on.
From an early hour the Palace was again entirely surrounded:
"We will not let you go," they shouted. "We want our King!"
This was the answer the people made to the farewell message which the
King had caused to be posted at the street corners: "Obeying necessity,
and performing my duty towards Greece, I am departing from my beloved
country with my heir, leaving my son Alexander on the throne. I beg
you to accept my decision with serenity, trusting to God, whose
blessing I invoke on the nation. And that this sacrifice may not be in
vain, I adjure all of you, if you love God, if you love your country,
if, lastly, you love me, not to make any disturbance, but to remain
submissive. The least disorder, even if prompted by a lofty sentiment,
may to-day lead to the most terrible disasters. At this moment the
greatest solace for the Queen and myself lies in the affection and
devotion which you have always shown to us, in the happy days as in the
unhappy. May God protect Greece.--Constantine R." [25] Motionless and
silent groups read this message; but the crowd outside the Palace went
on crying, monotonously: "No! No!" and "He mustn't go!"
These things began to fill the emissary of the Protecting Powers with
uneasiness. He felt that a clear manifestation of the fact that the
King had been superseded must be given to the populace.[26] A
proclamation in King Alexander's name was accordingly issued.
Simultaneously, a notice, the text of which, it is affirmed, had been
settled between the Government and M. Jonnart, was published. It ran:
"To-day at noon, after the administration of the oath to King
Alexander, M. Jonnart by a special messenger announced to the Greek
Government that it could send at once authorities to Salonica, since
the Provisional {198} Government is henceforward dissolved. It is
equally well-known that M. Venizelos shall not by any means come to
Athens, and that the Powers have no ulterior design to establish him in
power. Greece is nowise bound to pursue the policy of the Triumvirate,
but is free to adhere to her neutrality." [27]
For all that, the people continued restive. The King's departure had
been fixed for noon; but in face of the popular unwillingness to let
him go, the departure seemed impossible. It became evident that the
methods of persuasion which sufficed for the Premier did not suffice
for the people. Something more effective than the march into distant
Thessaly and the landing at remote Corinth was needed. Accordingly,
the destroyers came into Phaleron Bay, and French troops began to
disembark.[28] The Athenians, however, did not seem to be cowed even
when they saw that the French troops advanced close to Athens. What
was to be done? Was M. Jonnart, after all, to succeed no better than
Admiral Dartige du Fournet? The ex-Governor of Algeria, put on his
mettle, acted promptly. He sent word to M. Zaimis that the King's
departure should not be any longer delayed: if the Greek police were
unable to disperse the crowd, the High Commissioner was ready to send
from the Piraeus some companies of machine-guns.[29]
Then, at 5 p.m., a last attempt was made by the royal family to leave
the Palace. It succeeded, thanks to a feint which decoyed the crowd to
a side door, while the fugitives escaped by the main entrance.
The day, in spite of all forebodings, ended without a disturbance. The
parade of overwhelming force by M. Jonnart and his unmistakable
determination to use it mercilessly had, no doubt, convinced a populace
quick to grasp a situation that opposition spelt suicide. But it was
mainly the example and exhortations of their King that compelled them
to suppress their rage and resign themselves to the inevitable.
For--Greece is a land of paradoxes--no full-blooded Greek, whether
statesman or soldier, was ever clothed with the same amplitude of
authority over his countrymen as this simple, upright, {199} kindly son
of a Danish father and a Russian mother, in whom the subtle Hellenes
found their ideal _Basileus_.
And so the drama which had been staged for more than a year by French
diplomacy was satisfactorily wound up; and the curtain fell, amid the
applause of the spectators.[30]
[1] Jonnart, pp. 60-67.
[2] _Ibid_, pp. 109-10.
[3] Nouveau Recueil Général des Traités. By Ch. Samwer, Vol. XVII,
Part ii.
[4] _Ibid._
[5] _Papers re Affairs of Greece_, 1830-32.
[6] _Papers re Affairs of Greece_, 1826-30.
[7] Wellington to Prince Leopold, 10 Feb., 1830. _State Papers_,
1820-30.
[8] Duc de Broglie's Speech, 18 May, 1833. _Écrits et Discours_, Vol.
II, pp. 415 foll.
[9] Communiqué of the Russian Government, Reuter, Petrograd, 7 July,
1917.
[10] Jonnart, pp. 70-95.
[11] Jonnart, pp. 102-4.
[12] See Art. 45.
[13] Jonnart, pp. 109-12.
[14] When the Greek Premier did so, M. Jonnart repudiated it as "a
mistake of M. Zaimis."--See _The Times_, 11 July, 1917.
[15] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, Geneva, 1917, pp. 13, 14.
[16] Jonnart, p. 113.
[17] _The Times_, 11 July, 1917.
[18] Even as it was, General Sarrail lamented the advent of M.
Venizelos at Salonica as "a Greek master-stroke" calculated "to keep
'the coveted city' Greek."--Sarrail, pp. 153, 154. He evidently
preferred not to have even a portion of Greece as an ally, that he
might treat the whole of it as an enemy.
[19] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, pp. 14-18.
[20] Jonnart, pp. 116-7.
[21] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, p. 11.
[22] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, pp. 28-9.
[23] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, pp. 26-7.
[24] _The Weekly Dispatch_, 17 June, 1917.
[25] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, pp. 30-1.
[26] M. Jonnart, in _The Times_, 11 July, 1917.
[27] _Le Départ du Roi Constantin_, p. 34.
[28] _The Weekly Dispatch_, 17 June, 1917.
[29] Jonnart, p. 128.
[30] Of all English newspapers the _Weekly Dispatch_ (17 June, 1917)
alone gave some account of this last scene of the drama. The rest
atoned for their self-denial in narrative by proportionate
self-indulgence in comment. One of them described the _coup_ as "a
distinct gain both to _our_ interests in the East and to our _moral_
position in the world." British agents on the spot must have been
strangely blind to this aspect of the business; for General Sarrail
complains that the _coup_ succeeded in spite of the obstacles raised
"by our allies, the English. It was _à contre-coeur_ that 500 of their
men were furnished me for the descent on Thessaly. The Chief of the
British Staff, no doubt by order, sought to learn my plans that he
might telegraph them and ruin our action, etc."--Sarrail, p. 242.
Without for a moment accepting the French General's suggestions of
British double-dealing, we have every reason to believe that he was
right in the view that the disgraceful affair did not enjoy British
official sympathy.
{200}