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 He felt that a clear manifestation of the fact that the King had been superseded must be given to the populace.[26] A proclamation in King Alexander's name was accordingly issued.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.