After his unsatisfactory initial meeting with Enver, von Usedom was now more
encouraged by what he saw and thought that Turco-German co-operation would be
possible. He remained until Sunday then returned to Constantinople to persuade
Enver to close the Dardanelles and complete the mine barrier, a project to which
the Pasha demurred pleading that he would not be able to convince his Cabinet
colleagues who feared that such a move would result in an ultimatum from Britain
or France (or even Italy). This, in turn, would lead to war which the Turks
wanted to avoid until assured of non-intervention by Roumania and Bulgaria. It
was a further let down for von Usedom who complained in his official report
that, in view of the briefing he had been given in Berlin, ‘I had thought
matters considerably more rosy and more settled than they actually were.’
Souchon, who had now completed his report on the available military
options following the indecisive conference in August, presented his findings to
Enver on 10 September. Unsurprisingly, he followed the same line as before, that
the Turkish transports required for a Black Sea coast landing would be at the
mercy of the Russian fleet, in which opinion von Usedom was in complete
agreement. The landings, von Usedom acknowledged, depended upon Turkish command
of the Black Sea, but the Russians would not allow themselves to be drawn into a
naval battle and the Turkish fleet was not strong enough to blockade the Russian
warships in their ports.
This somewhat unpalatable advice, which went counter to Liman von Sander’s
preferred option, did nothing to quell the rumours sweeping the British ships
waiting patiently off the Dardanelles. ‘Altogether it seems evident that the
Turks are up to some dirty game against either ourselves or our allies’, wrote
Lieutenant Parry in HMS Grasshopper on
18 September. ‘I suppose tho’ that we shan’t trouble to go to war with
them unless they force our hands, as we’ve got nothing to gain by it. But if
they do send an expedition against Odessa (as was rumoured they intended doing),
or declare war on Russia, it seems to me we can’t possibly stay out. To us who
are on the spot it seems awfully stupid to allow the Turks to go on shilly
shallying like this; but I suppose our Govt have enough to do without worrying
about a small country who can’t do us much damage.’
Although Enver accepted that the Egyptian expedition could be undertaken, the
Turks would still have to base a sizeable proportion of their army in Thrace, to
guard against a possible Bulgarian attack. Talaat went further, by maintaining
that any military adventure was out of the question until the attitude of the
Bulgarians had been definitely decided.
Despite the narrowing of the strategic possibilities, and the concomitant
difficulty in achieving surprise, Wangenheim was under continual pressure from
Berlin to get something done. A further conference was convened at Enver’s
house attended by Liman, Souchon, Usedom, Wangenheim and some German staff
officers. The proposed Odessa landings were finally laid to rest, much, one
would imagine, to Souchon’s relief; discussion turned instead to options in
the Caucasus and Egypt and to what form Turkish participation should take if
Bulgaria marched on Serbia and Greece. The Egyptian project was strongly
supported by Wangenheim, Souchon and Usedom as the only option capable of
exercising immediate pressure on Britain. Liman, however, remained the stumbling
block; he could not see much resulting from such an undertaking.
At least one thing was settled — now that the Dardanelles’ defences were, as
Mallet reminded Grey, ‘being every day strengthened’ those present at the
meeting could take heart that soon the Straits would become, if not impregnable,
at least too strong to force without unacceptable losses. At that point
Souchon’s rear would be safeguarded and, with Enver’s guarantee, he could
then sortie into the Black Sea assured always of a secure base inside the
Bosphorus so long as Enver continued to wield power.
In view of this, on 14 September, Enver authorized Souchon to patrol in
the Black Sea with a remit to attack any Russian vessels he might come across.
That same day news that the planned assault on Egypt by the Turkish Eighth Army
was being postponed leaked in Vienna from a German source. Whatever motive there
might have been for the leak
the Germans were quick to pin the blame on the faint-hearted Austrians, who
remained keen on the Odessa landings as a way of removing pressure from their
own front and who wanted the Egypt project scrapped for fear of upsetting the
Italians.
This was despite the fact that Liman was the main beneficiary of the leak, which
put the Black Sea plan firmly back on the agenda. Nevertheless Enver’s
precipitate authorization was too much for his Cabinet colleagues, advancing as
it did the day of judgment unacceptably close. Said Halim at once recognized
that if he did not stop Enver the War Minister would become de
facto dictator of Turkey. Enver meanwhile claimed to von Usedom that he
still wished to embark upon war immediately but that he had only managed to
convert Djemal and Talaat;
as for Enver’s more intransigent colleagues, von Usedom reported that, ‘he
will have to bring about a small coup d’état
to set aside such of his colleagues who do not agree with him…’ As
tantalising as this prospect must have appeared in Berlin, von Usedom then
added, alarmingly, ‘If his political opponents succeed in putting him aside
first the prospect of working with the Turks will have passed. In that case the
usefulness of the German missions ceases at the same moment, since all three
exist only through Enver, and depend on him for results.’
Yet this is precisely what Said Halim tried to do – and succeeded, if only
temporarily – though without the dire result forecast by von Usedom.
The Grand Vizier was able to rally enough support in Cabinet to demand
that Enver rescind his authorization to Souchon; it was a rare, if short-lived,
victory for the Prince but which brought an immediate objection from Souchon who
threatened that, if he were not allowed, officially, to conduct
‘nonprovocative training manoeuvres’ he might do so unofficially.
The Admiral had already worked out his plan for a Black Sea cruise to commence
on 20 September either with the bulk of the Turkish fleet or, if Enver’s
powers of persuasion were insufficient and the Turkish ships were withheld, then
only Goeben and Breslau
would proceed, but under the Turkish flag.
In the event, as Enver was so roundly defeated, Souchon, on his Ambassador’s
orders, sent only Breslau into the Black Sea on 20 September for a cruise of several
hours’ duration. This would remain a temporary setback only as Souchon’s
overall plan was common knowledge in Constantinople — and further afield: on
the same day in the waiting British fleet there was ‘Much talk about the
Turkish fleet plus Goeben and Breslau
sallying out into the Black Sea and annoying the Russians.’ For Lieutenant
Dickens in HMS Harpy this was tantamount to good news: ‘Hope they do’, he
recorded artlessly in his diary. ‘That should settle it, and we’ll then be
able to attack the Dardanelles.’
After a heated meeting following Breslau’s
lone sortie, Enver tendentiously attempted to argue that a Black Sea
demonstration was necessary to prevent the Roumanians from gravitating towards
the Entente Powers. But no amount of prevarication could conceal that the real
intention was to provoke the Russians. If Souchon attempted to take his ships
into the Black Sea, Enver was warned, they might be debarred from returning to
the Bosphorus, while Djavid and Djemal apparently suggested that the
Bosphorus’ forts should be given permission to open fire on the German ships
if they tried to pass into the Black Sea without Turkish authorization.
The Grand Vizier, who had seen his carefully orchestrated Cabinet victory
destroyed at a stroke by the unilateral action of the German Admiral, now had to
face the wrath of the Entente Ambassadors. Mallet, in particular, had a card up
his sleeve, for he had heard indirectly of the political edict that had been
delivered to Enver and which had now been so blatantly undermined. Mallet began,
however, by innocently asking the Grand Vizier why the Turks had allowed Breslau into the Black Sea, at which Said Halim attempted to stand
on what remained of his dignity: the Turks had every right to send their fleet
into the Black Sea. Not so, replied Mallet, as, according to international law,
neither Goeben nor Breslau
were Turkish ships. Then, when the Grand Vizier ‘disclaimed with utmost
vehemence and absolute sincerity any hostile intention to Russia’, it was time
for Mallet to play his trump card. The Council of Ministers had, he said,
‘wisely decided’ against sanctioning a foray for fear of provoking an
incident with Russia; however, ‘the very day they had come to the decision
Minister of War totally disregards it, which shows how much power was left to
His Highness.’ Constantinople, Mallet added, was an armed German camp with
everyone, including His Highness, at the mercy of Enver and Liman.
It was a harsh rebuke, coming from Mallet, but not undeserved and the
Ambassador was promptly proved correct. The game of brinkmanship was won by
Souchon and Enver after the latter reported on 21 September that his colleagues
now took the view that Souchon had a right to maintain German interests even if
in conflict with Turkish. Henceforth, Goeben
and Breslau could cruise in the Black
Sea though the Ottoman Government would disassociate itself if Souchon committed
a warlike action.
It should have been obvious however that no amount of dissembling would dispel
the impression that Souchon was acting in conjunction with the Turks. For Djavid,
like Said Halim, the appreciation of the real situation was sharply brought home
when the Minister of Finance consoled a Belgian acquaintance: ‘…“I have
terrible news for you,” said the sympathetic Turkish statesman. “The Germans
have captured Brussels.” The Belgian, a huge figure, more than six feet high,
put his arm soothingly upon the shoulder of the diminutive Turk. “I have even
more terrible news for you,” he said, pointing out to the stream, where Goeben
and Breslau lay anchored, “The
Germans have captured Turkey”…’
Despite his strong words to the Grand Vizier, Mallet again came under
fire from Churchill who was by now violently antipathetic to the Turks and still
smarting from Mallet’s earlier unguarded comment that Goeben had been ‘allowed to escape’. Leafing through Mallet’s
dispatches, it was not difficult for Churchill to find a recurring theme along
the lines of “the Grand Vizier expressed his extreme surprise at information
which I gave him this morning and disclaimed vehemently any knowledge of it and
promised...” So equipped, Churchill set to work on 23 September in continuance
of his campaign to discredit the Ambassador.
I
must write you a line about Turkey [he began his letter to Grey]. Poor
Mallet’s telegrams are in the main repetitions of the paragraph attached
[quoted above]. We are suffering very seriously from Turkish hostility. Our
whole Mediterranean Fleet is tied to the Dardanelles. We are daily trying to buy
Turkish neutrality by promises and concessions. Meanwhile the German grip on
Turkey tightens and all preparations for war go steadily forward. But all this
would in itself be of minor consequence but for the fact that in our attempt to
placate Turkey we are crippling our policy in the Balkans.
While
not advocating aggressive action against Turkey, the time had come, the First
Lord argued, to consider territorial inducements for the Christian Balkan states
at Turkey’s expense; it was too late for strong words at the Porte to have any
effect. ‘Like you,’ Churchill continued, ‘I sympathize deeply with Mallet
in the futile and thankless task on which he is engaged. I do not know what the
result will be but I am sure it is not worth while sacrificing the bold and
decisive alternative of throwing in our lot frankly with the Christian
States…to get the kind of neutrality which the Turks have been giving us, and
for which we are even asked to pay and be grateful…I do most earnestly beg you
not to be diverted from the highway of sound policy in this part of the
world…by wanderings into the labyrinth of Turkish duplicity and intrigue.’
Churchill also took his attack into the Cabinet which met that morning
where he gained the support of some of his colleagues that the Government should
now free itself from the obligations already made as to Turkey’s future and
‘make common cause with the Balkan states.’ Although Grey was not prepared
to go this far, his patience was wearing undeniably thin, and it was his
proposal that carried the day: Mallet would be instructed to inform the Porte
‘that while not contemplating for the moment hostile measures, we are
grievously dissatisfied with the recent action of the Turkish Government, which
has resulted in placing Constantinople under German, and no longer under
Turkish, control. Unless the “peace party” soon succeeds in getting
upperhand we shall be compelled to adopt an attitude of hostility and to take
measures accordingly.’
But the ‘peace party’ was fast running out of both options and adherents.
Djavid’s repeated warnings that the cost of mobilization was bankrupting the
Treasury fell on deaf ears. The only argument which might have caused Enver to
reconsider concerned the shipments of munitions from Germany which were being
seriously disrupted by the Roumanian authorities.
This hardening of the British attitude to Turkey was strengthened by a dispatch
from Athens reporting that all Turkish ships, whatever their size, carried a
proportion of German officers and men and recommending that, for the safety of
British shipping off the Dardanelles, Admiral Carden’s discretionary
instruction of 21 September should be altered so that all Turkish ships (and
aircraft) should be treated as hostile.
The C.O.S., Admiral Sturdee, with Battenberg’s full approval, agreed that the
new order should be issued. ‘We are running great risks’, noted Sturdee,
‘and possibly may lose an important unit if the order is not given.’
Carden had independently decided to attack any Turkish torpedo craft issuing at
night from the Straits and closing his patrol; his telegram informing the
Admiralty of this decision, sent on the evening of 25 September, crossed with
the formal Admiralty authorization to attack any Turkish ship, day or night.
Mallet was also informed that Grey, having consulted Churchill, now thought it
would be ‘better and safer’ to tell the Turks they must not send their ships
to sea while the fleet remained under German control. ‘We are bound’, added
Grey, ‘knowing German methods to regard Turkish ships coming out under present
conditions as having the intention to attack some British interest.’
The news that they were free to attack was warmly greeted in the patrolling
British ships, typified by Lieutenant Parry who noted in his diary, ‘…AT
LAST this looks more like business — ‘OORAY!’
The British fleet did not have long to wait. At lunch on the 26th the
signalman on HMS Grasshopper ‘fell
down the hatch and breathlessly told us a Turkish T[orpedo] B[oat] was coming
out.’ Racing on deck they saw an ‘exceedingly diminutive’ one-funnelled
torpedo boat being chased by HMS Rattlesnake
with HMS Savage coming up fast in
support. As the British destroyers were rapidly overhauling her, the Turkish
boat stopped and was ordered to return, whereupon she soon ‘skidaddled back
into the Dardanelles.’
The report of this minor incident did not reach Mallet until the following day,
by which time it was accompanied by the staggering news that, in retaliation,
the Commandant at the Dardanelles had promptly closed the Straits. Although,
without any doubt, Enver was looking for a suitable excuse and Carden had not,
in any case, followed his new orders to the letter (the Turkish boat was, after
all, only turned back and not sunk), yet it appeared another example of one of
Churchill’s orders having an immediate and counter-productive effect. While
this might have provided useful ammunition in Churchill’s fight to have Turkey
ditched, it also presented Mallet with another headache — and one he could do
without.
Accompanied by his French and Russian colleagues, Mallet tackled the
Grand Vizier at once. If only a short notice had been given before the Admiral
had been instructed, Said Halim claimed, ‘he could have arranged things
quietly but sudden action of [British] fleet had given rise to supposition that
we intended immediate attack.’ Mallet explained as best he could that Turkey
was only hurting herself by this action which also gave rise to the fear that
she was intent upon taking some desperate step.
Said Halim, personally, was in favour of re-opening the Straits, though it was
not until Mallet returned to the Embassy that he discovered the price the Grand
Vizier placed upon his personal desire. Mallet was then informed by a Turkish
Foreign Office official that the Dardanelles would be re-opened if the British
Government ‘will move fleet a little farther from entrance to Dardanelles
towards Lemnos.’
Bearing in mind Churchill’s previous reaction to such a suggestion it was no
surprise that the entrenched hard-line Admiralty attitude showed no signs of
moderating: ‘An impertinent request considering the conduct of the Turkish
Government’, commented Sturdee. ‘Our ships must be prepared for offensive
action if Germans obtain the upper hand.’
Mallet was therefore informed on 30 September that the watch on the
Dardanelles would not be withdrawn so long as Germany controlled the Turkish
fleet and that the request of the Grand Vizier could not be entertained until
all the German officers and crew had been repatriated.
However Mallet demurred when asked to be so blunt — before seeing Said Halim
he tried to persuade Grey to alter his stance, arguing ‘If it is necessary on
practical grounds that fleet should remain in close proximity to forts, then I
would not advocate its receding. But if it can go a little distance off without
impairing efficiency of its supervision I would recommend it on political
grounds.’
Mallet believed that, to save face, the Grand Vizier required an excuse before
he could re-open the Straits. Said Halim had reminded Mallet that it was not
many days since the Ambassador had informed the Porte in writing that if Goeben
and Breslau went out singly or
accompanied by Turkish warships, they would all be treated as enemies; this
note, he maintained, had led the Turks to consider that they were free to send
out Turkish ships alone. Then, no sooner had they done this, suddenly and
‘without any warning’ their torpedo boat had been turned back. It would not
be difficult to sympathize with Said Halim who had been placed in as awkward a
situation by Enver as Mallet had been by Churchill. But British ‘face’ was
also involved: re-opening the Straits would be regarded as a diplomatic success;
tacit acceptance of the closure a sign of weakness. ‘In these
circumstances’, contended Mallet, ‘might it not be imprudent to inform Grand
Vizier point-blank that we will not move our ships a little farther off from the
entrance and would it not be better to say nothing at all? His Highness will
draw his own conclusions…’
Mallet succeeded; Grey relented. On 2 October the Ambassador was left to
use his discretion as to whether to tell the Grand Vizier that the fleet would
not be moved. If, however, Said Halim mentioned the subject again, Mallet was
instructed that the situation must be made plain to him.
The next day Mallet received intelligence from ‘a usually reliable source’
which led him to believe that the question of moving the fleet had now become
academic: the Dardanelles, he was now informed, had been closed not by an
administrative act but by the laying of additional mines to close off the
navigation channel. ‘There is reason to suppose’, he reported, ‘that these
mines have been laid by Germans and that their position is unknown to Turks.’
Mallet’s source was only half right — after the minor incident of the
torpedo boat, the Turkish commandant at the Dardanelles, with the full support
and advice of his German colleague, Vice-Admiral Merton, had promptly closed the
passage through the outer minefield with four mines and reported this fact to
Constantinople. Enver had no trouble, once this initial step had been taken, in
obtaining the complete closure of the Dardanelles. All remaining passages
through the barriers were blocked and a fourth minefield was laid at the
narrowest point.
Although it provided few grounds for comfort Mallet was forced to surmise that
it was ‘certain that Germans have been long working for closing of Straits
with object it is supposed of giving them freer hand in Black Sea.’
Mallet’s hypothesis was correct in that it accurately reflected German
intentions; what he could not have known, however, was that, at the same time,
Souchon had decided to call an end, temporarily, to his provocative cruises and
concentrate instead on training his crews. This situation had arisen after
Djemal argued that, despite the earlier edict that Souchon had a right to
maintain German interests, Goeben and Breslau
should only venture into the Black Sea with Enver’s approval. As this was
tantamount to giving an inmate the key to his own cell, it came as no surprise
that once more, on 27 September, Enver failed to persuade his
anti-interventionist colleagues. As von Usedom had already acknowledged, the
German position at the Porte depended upon Enver and, as Souchon must have
suspected that it would only be a matter of time before the War Minister won
over his colleagues, it was decided not to force the issue. However, events
promptly began to conspire against Enver. On 2 October the Roumanian border was
closed to military shipments, so blocking the vital supply route from Germany;
the attitude of Bulgaria continued to cause grave cause for concern; and the
Treasury was almost exhausted.
Time was running out for Enver, and therefore for Souchon.
Information reached London, via an agent of the Aga Khan, of a secret
meeting at this time in Constantinople between ‘Leaders, Ministers &
Secret Agents’ to discuss the whole policy of Turkey. The report of the
meeting claimed that it was felt that, having gone so far towards accommodating
Germany, even if the Turks continued to remain neutral they could count upon no
favours after the war from a victorious Entente ‘who would seize her country
and divide it amongst themselves.’ It was decided then that Turkey would have
to find a pretext for declaring war against the Entente within the next few
weeks, though it was also agreed that one final effort should be made to come to
an understanding with the Entente on all points. To accomplish this a senior
figure, possibly Talaat, would propose to come to London for personal
negotiations with Grey.
That the Foreign Office had little recourse other than to accept these reports
at face value was the direct result of the dearth of reliable agents able to
operate in the Ottoman Empire. Sir John Maxwell in Cairo lamented that he could
get ‘no information as the Turks guard the frontier very closely — our
agents cannot get through — those we had on the other side have all been
bagged.’
Were the Turks stupid enough, Maxwell also asked, to commit political
suicide? This seemed to depend on how capable they were of resisting German
pressure for, while Enver was entirely in German hands, Maxwell believed that
Talaat was the real strong man and may not want to ruin his country.
Talaat, it seemed, was becoming the pivotal figure. It was generally accepted,
rightly or wrongly, that there were ‘peace’ and ‘war’ factions at the
Porte, with Enver the most extreme of the war group, balanced by Djavid, the
Minister of Finance, who was seen as standing for peace at all costs. Djemal, a
less rabid interventionist than Enver but still hawkish, was in turn balanced by
Said Halim, who continued to temporize; although this split was mirrored
throughout the C.U.P. overall, a small majority favoured intervention in the
war. On this basis, it appeared that Talaat held the casting vote; certainly
this was how the situation was perceived by the various protagonists, and Talaat
was ardently wooed by all sides. The Germans thought he was their man
while Mallet believed him ‘inclined to be reasonable’. Reasonable or not,
Maxwell was correct in pointing to the relentless German pressure upon Turkey.
Wangenheim’s apparent reluctance to force the issue had resulted in the
dispatch, early in October, of Richard von Kühlmann (formerly of the Embassy in
London) to hurry things along; however Kühlmann’s mission was resented by
both the Ambassador and Souchon. Indeed, given his declining influence in the
counsels at the Porte, Wangenheim’s position was not too far removed from
Mallet’s. Kühlmann immediately ran up against the same problem which had
beset the Germans in Constantinople since August — with Bulgaria and Roumania
still undecided, only two moves remained open to Turco-German arms: an overland
advance on Suez, or a Black Sea adventure. Yet, as Souchon pointed out,
superiority in the Black Sea rested solely upon Goeben.
She could outrun the Russian ships but what if she struck a mine? With her, to
the bottom, would go the hopes of Turkey.
Despite this, the last realistic hope the Turks had of continuing their
neutrality was based on financial grounds: the Porte simply could not afford to
go to war. It was the desperate economic situation that had led to Talaat’s
request to Mallet for Britain to buy outright the two pre-empted dreadnoughts
(knowing full well, of course, that Turkey was unlikely ever to have them back
in any case). According to Djemal, no direct advantage had been derived from the
abolition of the Capitulations, as the customs’ revenues had dropped to a
quarter of their peace-time levels,
while the mobilization was costing a fortune. Indeed, Enver had little choice,
early in October, other than to heed the accumulative warnings and order at
least a partial demobilization.
Before this, on 27 September Enver suggested that, as usual, the solution
to the problem was to be found in Berlin; although predictable, Enver’s
opportunism always tended to be of the hard-edged variety. In the west, events
were not unfolding to plan for Germany: their armies had been stopped on the
Marne, after which entrenchment and the dual outflanking manoeuvres – the race
to the sea – had begun. It would not be the quick victory needed to be able
confidently to face the expected Russian steamroller; yet, on the Eastern Front,
Tannenberg and the Masurian Lakes had been decisive German victories and it was
not until the First Battle of Warsaw, begun on 28 September, that the German
armies received their first check. The Austrians had not fared so well: the
expected crushing of Serbia had not come about (instead trench warfare ensued)
while on the Austro-Russian front the Battle of Lemberg had been lost. In these
circumstances, a diversionary Turkish attack upon Russia, combined with an
attempt to block Suez to the flow of Empire reinforcements, assumed even greater
importance, and would have been worth paying for.
Enver’s suggestion – that now was the perfect time to approach Berlin
for a loan – was vetoed by Djavid who saw that the money would only be
forthcoming once Turkey had entered the war. However the opinion of the Finance
Minister no longer carried any weight and the approach was duly made through the
Turkish Ambassador in Berlin; the sum required was to be T£5 million.
Djavid’s fear were soon realized when it was agreed that a small interim
down-payment would be made but the balance depended on active Turkish
intervention. He noted on 12 October that 750,000 liras would be paid ‘ten
days after we enter the war against either Russia or England, and the rest (4
million liras) would be paid in 400,000 lira instalments each month, thirty days
after the declaration of war. If the war came to an end, so would the
payments.’
Mallet’s conjecture was not wide of the mark. ‘I have reason to suspect’,
he had written on 30 September, ‘that if the Turks are playing with us, they
are also playing with our enemies, and having obtained from them soldiers,
sailors, cannons, supplies, money and promises they are now showing great and
increased reluctance to pay the bill.’
In view of the condition set by Berlin, a further secret meeting was convened in
the German Embassy on 11 October; present were Wangenheim and Kühlmann, Enver,
Djemal, Talaat and Halil. The Grand Vizier was specifically excluded;
indeed Said Halim was becoming increasingly marginalized. Enver had reported two
days earlier to Wangenheim that Halil and Talaat were now also converts to
intervention. Then, on 10 October, Djemal was ‘persuaded’ unreservedly to
enter the interventionists’ camp, whether by threats or promises remains
unclear.
Following these defections, the demand of the conspirators was simplified and
made more attractive — Wangenheim was told that a payment of T£2 million
would buy Turkish action against Russia. The die had been cast.
The question of what to do with the Grand Vizier was easily resolved:
Said Halim would be presented by the conspirators with a fait accompli and given the simple choice of acquiescing or
retiring. As he enjoyed the trappings of office, only one answer was expected.
Unlike the earlier efforts to ship gold to Constantinople the first instalment
of T£1 million was dispatched on 12 October and arrived in four days. Despite
Russian efforts to delay or derail transit through Roumania, the second tranche
arrived on 21 October. Well informed of what was going on, the Russians went on
the alert against a possible Turkish attack. Mallet apprised Grey on 23 October
of the arrival of the German gold and also of the Russian apprehensions adding,
however, that this ‘need not indicate immediate declaration of war…’
Mallet had set out his stall for October: while it was not possible to forecast
what may happen from day to day it seemed ‘to be well worthwhile to continue
to pursue the policy which has been hitherto successful, so far as keeping the
Turks from participation on the German side can be called successful.’
Worthwhile or not, Mallet’s counsels counted for little in London as Turkey
had by now been written off. Last minute attempts to placate the Turks, and
forestall the inevitable, were advocated half-heartedly by the Foreign Office,
only to run into a solid wall of hostility from the Admiralty.
In view of the pre-emptions, Djemal refused to pay any further
instalments on the large building programme agreed with Armstrong-Vickers
earlier in the year
until he received a guarantee that the vessels would not be seized. Although
George Clerk thought this would set an awkward precedent, ‘On the other hand,
an assurance, if one can be devised which would not sacrifice the principle,
might be politically desirable.’
The Admiralty would give the assurance, but it would lapse upon the outbreak of
war between Turkey and Great Britain.
When, soon after Djemal’s request, the Turkish Ambassador attempted to obtain
the release of certain vessels purchased by Turkey – steamers, tugs, and two
armed motor launches – Grey proposed to let all but the launches sail as an
act of good faith. The Admiralty objected violently, particularly Sturdee. ‘No
military vessel must be allowed to go to Turkey from our yards’, Churchill
minuted on 28 October. ‘War is imminent and may occur at any moment.’
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