Fall of Giants

The two men walked across St. James’s Park in the cool of the early morning. Walter told his boss the rumor about the Serbian reply. The ambassador had a rumor of his own to report. “Albert Ballin dined with Winston Churchill last night,” he said. Ballin, a German shipping magnate, was close to the kaiser, despite being Jewish. Churchill was in charge of the Royal Navy. “I’d love to know what was said,” Lichnowsky finished.

He obviously feared the kaiser was bypassing him and sending messages to the British via Ballin. “I’ll try to find out,” said Walter, pleased at the opportunity.

They entered the Foreign Office, a neoclassical building that made Walter think of a wedding cake. They were shown to the foreign secretary’s opulent room overlooking the park. The British are the richest people on earth, the building seemed to say, and we can do anything we like to the rest of you.

Sir Edward Grey was a thin man with a face like a skull. He disliked foreigners and almost never traveled abroad: in British eyes, that made him the perfect foreign secretary. “Thank you so much for coming,” he said politely. He was alone but for an aide with a notebook. As soon as they were seated he got down to business. “We must do what we can to calm the situation in the Balkans.”

Walter’s hopes rose. That sounded pacific. Grey did not want war.

Lichnowsky nodded. The prince was part of the peace faction in the German government. He had sent a sharp telegram to Berlin urging that Austria be restrained. He disagreed with Walter’s father and others who believed that war now was better, for Germany, than war later when Russia and France might be stronger.

Grey went on: “Whatever the Austrians do, it must not be so threatening to Russia as to provoke a military response from the tsar.”

Exactly, Walter thought excitedly.

Lichnowsky obviously shared his view. “If I may say so, Foreign Secretary, you have hit the nail on the head.”

Grey was oblivious to compliments. “My suggestion is that you and we, that is to say Germany and Britain, should together ask the Austrians to extend their deadline.” He glanced reflexively at the clock on the wall: it was a little after six A.M. “They have demanded an answer by six tonight, Belgrade time. They could hardly refuse to give the Serbians another day.”

Walter was disappointed. He had been hoping Grey had a plan to save the world. This postponement was such a small thing. It might make no difference. And in Walter’s view the Austrians were so belligerent they easily could refuse the request, petty though it was. However, no one asked his opinion, and in this stratospherically elevated company he was not going to speak unless spoken to.

“A splendid idea,” said Lichnowsky. “I will pass it to Berlin with my endorsement.”

“Thank you,” said Grey. “But, failing that, I have another proposal.”

So, Walter thought, Grey was not really confident the Austrians would give Serbia more time.

Grey went on: “I propose that Britain, Germany, Italy, and France should together act as mediators, meeting at a four-power conference to produce a solution that would satisfy Austria without menacing Russia.”

That was more like it, Walter thought excitedly.

“Austria would not agree in advance to be bound by the conference decision, of course,” Grey continued. “But that’s not necessary. We could ask the Austrian emperor at least to take no further action until he hears what the conference has to say.”

Walter was delighted. It would be hard for Austria to refuse a plan that came from its allies as well as its rivals.

Lichnowsky looked pleased too. “I will recommend this to Berlin most strongly.”

Grey said: “It’s good of you to come to see me so early in the morning.”

Lichnowsky took that as dismissal and stood up. “Not at all,” he said. “Will you get down to Hampshire today?”

Grey’s hobbies were fly-fishing and bird-watching, and he was happiest at his cottage on the river Itchen in Hampshire.

“Tonight, I hope,” said Grey. “This is wonderful fishing weather.”

“I trust you will have a restful Sunday,” said Lichnowsky, and they left.

Walking back across the park, Lichnowsky said: “The English are amazing. Europe is on the brink of war, and the foreign secretary is going fishing.”

Walter felt elated. Grey might seem to lack a sense of urgency, but he was the first person to come up with a workable solution. Walter was grateful. I’ll invite him to my wedding, he thought, and thank him in my speech.

When they got back to the embassy he was startled to find his father there.

Otto beckoned Walter into his office. Gottfried von Kessel was standing by the desk. Walter was bursting to confront his father about Maud, but he was not going to speak of such things in front of von Kessel, so he said: “When did you get here?”

“A few minutes ago. I came overnight on the boat train from Paris. What were you doing with the ambassador?”

“We were summoned to see Sir Edward Grey.” Walter was gratified to see a look of envy cross von Kessel’s face.