Wayward Winds (40 page)

 78 
Difficult Question

On June 8, 1913, four days after the Derby, Emily Davison died without regaining consciousness. Front pages throughout the country were full of the incident. Six thousand women marched in solemn procession through the street accompanying the body to its final resting place of glory. The suffragette movement at last had a full-fledged martyr.

Charles and Jocelyn's anxiety over their daughter deepened. Yet they knew they could do nothing for Amanda now. They must only wait and allow accountability to come.

Reading of the Derby tragedy in the
Times
, though it was not directly related either to Amanda or the Fountain of Light, somehow triggered a series of thoughts in Charles' mind that caused him to think that the danger he had written Amanda about was increasing.

How exactly Charles arrived at the conclusion he could not have said. But within three weeks the conviction had grown upon him that it was time to speak out more directly, that what had briefly involved him—or tried to—had more widespread implications that could no longer be ignored.

Later that same month, he traveled to London and arranged to see the First Lord of the Admiralty Winston Churchill.

“Winston,” said Charles when they were alone in Churchill's office, “I don't want to be an alarmist, but I am very concerned about this Fountain of Light business. I've found myself thinking more and
more about some of the things I've heard, about the implications of some of their statements. It sounded innocuous enough to begin with, but now I'm not so sure. There were undercurrents I missed at first. Now I must tell you, I am extremely concerned about what might be their underlying motives. Has anything more been learned since Admiral Snow contacted me?”

“We've learned a little more, but not much. The people involved are extremely evasive.”

“I am convinced that danger is afoot,” Charles went on, “that whatever it is, the so-called Fountain of Light is not what it would like people to think. There's something involved . . . again, I don't mean to be alarmist, but I think it may be a plot, a spy ring of some kind that may have even infiltrated the government itself.”

“You're serious, aren't you, Sir Charles?”

“Very serious. What about Hartwell Barclay—is anything more known about him?”

“I'm afraid I've never heard of him.”

“I thought this was your investigation.”

“Not really. I asked Admiral Snow to keep tabs on developments.”

“I see,” nodded Charles.

“So who is this Barclay?”

“He works for the secret service. Admiral Snow and I discussed him.”

“Hmm . . . I'll get the admiral on the phone immediately and get an update.”

Churchill made the call. In answer to his questions an anxious look came over his face. He set down the telephone and looked up at Charles.

“It seems Hartwell Barclay has disappeared,” he said. “Admiral Snow was about to notify me. He thinks something may be up as well. There are reports of heightened activity in Serbia. It's a powder keg. Last year's war between the Balkan states and Turkey solved nothing. It looks like it's going to explode all over again. It would appear that your timing is on the mark.”

Churchill grew thoughtful.

“Would you consider going public?” he asked at length.

“What do you mean?” asked Charles.

“A brief statement for one of the papers, issuing a sound and reasonable warning against anything connected with the Fountain of Light.”

“Why make it public? What would be the purpose?”

“Because if it is a spy network, then the security of Great Britain may be at stake. Exposure is the surest means to insure that others are not ensnared. We cannot afford to take any chances.”

“That's a difficult question,” sighed Charles. “Why me?”

“Because even though you were not a part of it exactly, you at least attended one of their meetings. You saw firsthand what went on. A formal document would accomplish little. But you can offer an eyewitness account of what you actually saw and heard. Nothing is so convincing.”

“I see what you mean. I suppose I will consider it,” said Charles seriously.

He paused a moment. “I've got to tell you, Winston,” he said. “I'm not a whistle-blower. And I haven't been involved all that deeply in their activities. What if I don't see it all clearly?”

“Do you trust your instincts, your sense of things, your gut reaction?”

“Yes . . . yes, I would say I do.”

“As do I. I trust
you
, Sir Charles. Therefore, the qualms you feel in your gut have credibility in my eyes.”

“But what if I am wrong? What if it is
not
a spy network and nothing sinister is going on at all?”

“Their response will tell the story,” replied Churchill. “If they are innocent of the charges, they will come forth with specific evidence about their purpose, and explain themselves in a reasonable way. You may wind up with some egg on your face. But I'm asking you to take that risk for the sake of your country. On the other hand, if they become enraged and accusatory, if they lash out vindictively at you personally, and all the while if they further try to hide and shield their motives and activities with secrecy rather than making a full public disclosure, then we may be pretty certain your perspectives are on the mark. The venom with which a man denies a charge against him is very often in exact proportion to the likelihood of its being true.”

“I see what you mean. In other words, you are convinced I am right in this, but since we don't know for certain, their response will tip the scale one way or the other. If they are innocent, they
will respond accordingly. But if they go on a vicious counterattack, it will prove our suspicions.”

“I couldn't have said it better myself. But don't worry, Sir Charles. From what Admiral Snow just told me, there is much corroborating evidence piling up from other sources to back up what you are feeling.”

A week later, in the first week of July, Churchill's predictions proved correct. Serbia declared war on its neighbor Bulgaria.

 79 
Mounting Tensions

The tension which gradually mounted between the nations of Europe, large and small, during the second decade of the twentieth century was about a single idea: freedom.

What did freedom mean, who possessed the inherent right to be free, and which nations had the right to rule themselves?

At the heart of these fundamental questions flowed the Sava and Danube rivers, circuitously noting the division between Serbia and Austria, a border marked across the landscape between the Dinaric and Transylvanian Alps with hatred.

Events had heated up on and off in the Balkans for half a century. But now they were reaching the boiling point.

A revolution in Turkey led Bulgaria in 1908 to proclaim her independence. Fearing some similar move in Serbia, Austria seized the opportunity to formally annex the Turkish provinces of Bosnia and Herzegovina. These regions, however, were mostly occupied by Slavic Serbs, and Russia threatened to intervene on their behalf. Germany made it known that she would support Austria if Russia declared war.

The crisis was averted when Russia backed down. Austria was allowed to keep her new provinces. The stage for future conflict was set. The major players had taken their sides.

Swallowing their hatred of Austria, the Serbs of Bosnia and Herzegovina vowed to get even another day. A time would come
for the throwing off of the Austrian yoke, and when that day came, they would act. In the meantime, Serbian unrest went underground.

Serbs not only in Serbia itself but cooperating with their ethnic brothers and sisters in provinces under Austrian rule began establishing secret organizations directed toward the overthrow of Austrian tyranny, which had now replaced that of the crumbling Ottoman Empire. Their goal was simple: the unification and independence of
all
Serbian peoples.

At the vanguard of this conspiracy was the terrorist society called the Black Hand, made up chiefly of students, Serbian army officers, and other Serbian officials. New members were secretly recruited and support sought throughout Europe. Intrigue, plots, rumors, and spying between the various factions, stirred by fierce nationalism and passionate century-old ethnic and religious hatreds, kept tension in the region at such a pitch that anything could set it off into full-scale conflict.

Encouraged by the continued weakening of the Turks, and in order to exert their own independence as a show against any Austrian intentions, in 1912 the three Balkan states of Serbia, Bulgaria, and Montenegro banded together with Greece to form the Balkan League of Christian States, which then declared war on Turkey in an attempt to complete the expulsion of the Turks from Europe. Hostilities in this First Balkan War continued until mid-1913.

But the peace proved short-lived. Now the four members of the Balkan League fell to fighting among themselves over the spoils they had gained from their victories against Turkey. The Second Balkan War between Serbia and Bulgaria lasted but a month. Atrocities, however, were widespread and the region remained tense.

Prompted by these events, Germany added more than 100,000 troops to its standing army. Uneasiness in the international community resulted everywhere. France responded by voting large financial increases to bolster its
own
army. Russia followed suit.

None of the conflicts involving the powers of Europe during the previous two decades in themselves were serious enough to lead to widespread conflict. All had proved local and containable. Yet each successive incident wore away at the general patience and resolve of the European community. And as Germany, Austria, and Russia grew in power and stature alongside the two powerhouses, Great
Britain and France, they also grew more belligerent and less inclined to back down in the future.

With every successive incident war was forestalled. Yet each new threat left these three principal players more irritable and antagonistic. How long would they continue to show restraint?

Meanwhile, Germany's military muscle continued to strengthen. And Serbian passion to free Bosnia and Herzegovina from Austrian rule grew still more feverish.