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.
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