Silent in an Evil Time (5 page)

A stray of an entirely different sort that Edith took in in 1912 was a tall attractive Englishwoman in her twenties, named Grace Jemmett. Jemmett came from a well-to-do family, but she had grown addicted to morphine as the result of treatment that went wrong for a nervous disorder. She couldn't stay away from the drug, and one of the many doctors who had no success in treating her was the man who married Edith's sister Lillian. He was Longworth Wainwright of St. Thomas' Hospital in London, and he had the idea that Edith's clinic might be the right place for Jemmett to get off morphine. She moved to Brussels, where Edith's best efforts couldn't help the young woman shake her addiction. Nevertheless, Edith kept Jemmett at the clinic for years, giving her a bedroom and Edith's own personal care.

Jemmett could be a handful. She stayed in bed for long periods, and, at other times, she wandered around the clinic smoking cigarettes. Edith showed patience that was so saintly, it was almost beyond imagining. She hid the clinic's supply of morphine and personally regulated the young
woman's drug taking. Under Edith's guidance, Jemmett often made a charming companion, but when something upset Jemmett, she took to her bed and to her morphine.

In her years as Matron, Edith went on holiday each July to visit her family and friends in Norfolk. On most trips, she took Grace Jemmett. Edith's mother didn't like Jemmett. She considered her morphine addiction sinful, but more than that, Mrs. Cavell was jealous of the hours that Edith spent on Jemmett. It was time that the possessive Mrs. Cavell thought Edith should be devoting to her mother, rather than to an erratic drug addict.

In June 1910, the Reverend Frederick Cavell died at age eighty-five. He was buried in the cemetery beside his church in Swardeston. After his death, Mrs. Cavell moved to a little house in Norwich, where she had the help of a maid. Edith tried to persuade her mother to make a home at the clinic in Brussels. Mrs. Cavell resisted until early 1914, when she visited Brussels for several weeks. She discovered that she couldn't stand the place. The French language confused her, and Grace Jemmett got on her nerves. Before the end of the winter, Mrs. Cavell was gone from Brussels, back to her little house in Norwich.

When Edith took her annual holiday in July that year, a trip which, to Mrs. Cavell's relief, did not include Grace Jemmett, Edith had mixed feelings. Since 1912, a plan to build a clinic that would replace the four overcrowded houses had been in the works, and now construction was going ahead at a promising rate. The new clinic on Rue Brussels, about a kilometer from Rue de la Culture, would combine everything that was up to date in medical care. Edith consulted Dr. Depage and an architect in planning the building, and she knew that it would attract more
student nurses, who would receive more complete training. The prospect thrilled her.

At the same time, Edith was uneasy. There was speculation about a war involving almost all of Europe, which left her concerned about the year ahead. Every other citizen in Brussels who was paying attention to events felt the same way. Relations among European countries were disintegrating, and war was an increasing possibility. When Edith went on vacation in early July – she always liked to be in Norwich for her mother's birthday on July 6 – she left instructions with a senior nurse, Millicent White. If the news in Brussels suggested war, then White must send a telegram of warning to Edith.

The decisive battles of the First World War were fought in the trenches of northeastern France and in parts of Belgium. Millions of soldiers on both sides, Allied and German, died of gunfire and gas attacks before Germany surrendered on November 11, 1918.
(The Toronto Reference Library)

I
n the early years of the twentieth century Europe's five most powerful nations were Britain, France, Germany, Russia, and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. While all were rich in resources and industry, each nation had doubts and complaints about the others. Germany was jealous of Britain's mighty navy. France wished it had an army as large and disciplined as Germany's. Russia spent its wealth in building a military with bigger guns and stronger fortifications, all in the interests of not looking second-rate in comparison with the others. Germany objected that it had far fewer colonies in Asia and Africa than either Britain or France had. The British and French were growing more prosperous from their colonization of both continents, and the Germans considered their monopoly to be unfair.

Austria-Hungary, the least of the five powers, felt it received no respect from any of the others except Germany The population of the Austro-Hungarian Empire included groups of citizens divided by a dozen languages and five religions. The German Austrians, led by the prolific Habsburg family, dominated the empire for centuries, even though they were outnumbered by the Serbians and the other Slavic peoples who made up a large and unhappy subgroup within the empire.

Europe was officially at peace, but it was a nervous peace. None of the countries said they wanted war. All tried to manage workable diplomatic relations with the rest, and France and Russia maintained an alliance that had lasted for decades. Still, the five powers kept themselves armed just in case someone started a war. By “someone,” France, Russia, and Britain had Germany in mind, the country that was involved in more differences of opinion than anybody else. To the others, Germany seemed to bargain with a chip on its shoulder, and by 1914, German leaders were signaling that they might challenge the rest of the powers at any moment.

In June 1914, Austria-Hungary held its army's annual practice battle in the empire's province of Bosnia. Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Habsburg family arrived in Bosnia on June 25 as the senior official in charge of supervising the battle. The archduke had the best of credentials; he was inspector general of the army and nephew of Austria-Hungary's Emperor Franz Josef.

When the army finished its practice battle three days later, the archduke and his wife were driven many miles in a procession of cars for a ceremonial visit to Bosnia's governor. The governor's residence was in the city of Sarajevo. Lying in wait for the archduke in the city's streets were five young Austrian citizens of Serbian background who had armed themselves with bombs and pistols. The five belonged to an extremist group of Nationalist Serbs who resented the rule of the Habsburgs. They intended to assassinate the archduke.

In June 1914, when Serbian nationalists assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand of the Austro-Hungarian Empire (above right), the stage was set for the outbreak of the First World War The man in the lavish sideburns striding in front of the archduke is Franz Joseph, the Austro-Hungarian emperor
(The Toronto Reference Library)

As the royal motorcade entered Sarajevo, an assassin threw a bomb at the archdukes car. The bomb bounced off its target and exploded under the next car in the line, wounding an officer. The motorcade proceeded on its way, giving no sign of panic. Forty-five minutes later, still on the way to the governors house, the chauffeur driving the archduke made a wrong turn. He realized his mistake right away, but while he was backing up and turning around, he came to a stop in front of a man who was standing on
the sidewalk. By a horrible coincidence, the man was another of the five Serbian assassins. He pulled out his pistol and shot the archduke and his wife. They died on the spot. The Serb killer was arrested.

The archduke's shocking assassination set off a chain of reactions among Europe's five powers. Austria-Hungary's Habsburgs were eager to declare war on the tiny kingdom of Serbia, which supported the Serb radicals within the Austro-Hungarian Empire. But the Habsburgs wanted assurance that Germany would help them in their fight. The Germans encouraged the Habsburgs to go ahead with an invasion of Serbia, whenever they were ready. Russia, long devoted to the Serbs, announced its support of Serbia in any war that was brought against the little kingdom. France already had a treaty with Russia that required each country to come to the aid of the other if Germany invaded one of the two. And both France and England were joined under an ancient treaty, in which they promised to protect Belgium if the Germans violated the country's neutrality.

By late July, after a month of bickering among all the nations, both Russia and Germany threatened to mobilize their armies at any minute. Diplomats from England and France warned the Germans and the Russians of the trigger effect of mobilization – if one country took up arms, then all the others would soon do the same. Neither Russia nor Germany appeared to appreciate the danger.

The Germans were feeling bold. In their opinion, they had a tremendous military scheme in place. It was called the Schlieffen Plan, named after the man who designed it, Field Marshal Alfred von Schlieffen, once chief of the German Great General Staff. The minutely detailed plan committed seven-eighths of the German army to a massive assault on France. As far as Germany was concerned, the Schlieffen Plan guaranteed that the Germans would capture Paris and defeat France in exactly
forty-two days. After that, the German army would turn to Russia and give it the same beating.

But Germany didn't pull the first trigger. That role was filled by the Austro-Hungarian Empire. On Tuesday July 28, still fuming over the murder of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia. Two days later, Serbia's protector, Russia, announced that it was mobilizing its army. On the following afternoon, July 31, Germany dispatched telegrams to both Russia and Russia's good friend France, advising that Germany would mobilize its own army unless the Russians promised to suspend their war measures. The Germans demanded an answer from the Russians within twelve hours.

Millicent White, the senior nurse at Edith Cavell's clinic, took the events in Germany and Russia as a signal of big trouble ahead. Early on Saturday morning, August 1, she sent a telegram to Edith in Norwich, warning her that war seemed to be on the way. That afternoon, while Edith was weeding her mother's garden, a messenger delivered the telegram. When Edith read it, Mrs. Cavell begged her not to return to Brussels.

“My duty is with my nurses,” Edith said.

On Saturday evening, Russia told Germany that it was rejecting the German demand to stop the mobilization of the Russian army. Germany's response was to announce that it, too, was mobilizing its army and to declare war on Russia.

The next day, Sunday, Germany delivered an ultimatum to Belgium – unless the Belgians allowed the German army to march through the country without interference, Germany would treat it as an enemy. The
Schlieffen Plan depended on a quick German passage to France by way of Belgium, and Germany told the Belgians that they had twenty-four hours to make up their minds. As everybody recognized, the German demands indicated that Germany was about to launch its war against France.