CHAPTER FOUR

Adriatic Veto

‘The operations brilliantly begun by the Duke of the Abruzzi against the Turkish torpedo boats encountered at Preveza were stopped by Austria in a sudden and absolute manner.’

Prime Minster Antonio Salandra on Italy’s entry into the Great War on the side of the Entente Powers, 23 May 19151

THE war was scarcely an hour old when a series of incidents fraught with potential danger to the Italian cause in particular, and European peace in general, began. Five destroyers, the Artigliere (Flag), Corazziere, Fuciliere (Soldati Artigliere class), Alpino (Soldati Alpino class), and Zeffiro (Nembo class) of Rear-Admiral, the Duke of Abruzzi’s’ command, the ‘Division of the Torpedo Boat Inspector,’ were at sea, and approaching the eastern coast of the Ionian Sea. At about 16:00 hrs this force, under Commander (capitano di fregata) Guido Biscaretti di Ruffia, sighted two Ottoman torpedo-boats, Takat and Anatalia (Antalya class) heading north-west just off Preveza. These were part of a six-boat detachment deployed on the Ionian and Adriatic coast and stationed variously at Prevesa, Gomenitza (Igoumenitsa, Hegoumenitsa), and Durazzo (Durres). The Italians moved to the attack whereupon the torpedo-boats split up; the Takat (Tokat or Tokad) fleeing to the north whilst Anatalia (Antalya) turned and headed back towards Preveza. Three of the destroyers chased northwards whilst the remainder attempted to catch Anatalia. The northern chase was successful, with Takat being badly hit by 75 mm gunfire and driven onto the beach at Nicopolis with the loss of nine men killed. Anatalia successfully regained the safety of Preveza without loss.

Preveza is a port located at the mouth of the Gulf of Arta (the Ambrakian or Amvrakikos Gulf). Dating from an arrangement of 1881, the Greek-Ottoman border ran through the Gulf, the southern shore being Greek. The entrance to the Ionian Sea was protected, on the northern side, by a number of ancient fortifications dating from the fifteenth century, the Venetian period. Some of these had been equipped with modern guns, and there were also a few more modern, though obsolete, works. The principle defences at the time consisted of the ancient St. George’s Castle, which covered the port, and Fort Pantokrator, a ‘small triangular fort […] built to hinder ships passing through the narrows’ dating from circa 1800.2 This was surrounded by a ditch and covered the approach to the gulf entrance, supplemented by a coastal artillery battery mounting two 210 mm guns. These weapons fired 76 shells over a period of about 45 minutes at the Italian ships, though without any effect. Other than the coastal battery, the remainder of the artillery, comprising five 150 mm Krupp pieces and twenty field guns, did not engage the Italian vessels.

The Adriatic. Austria-Hungary was highly sensitive to any disturbance to the status quo in the Balkans, and effectively vetoed further Italian naval operations, begun precipitously by the Duke of Abruzzi, on the eastern littoral. Only minor Ottoman naval assets were in the theatre in any event. (© Charles Blackwood).

The Italian ships could not run the gauntlet of these defences without some risk, but it was known that other Ottoman warships were further north at Gomenitza. That night, an Italian officer was put ashore to conduct a reconnaissance of the port. He was able to ascertain the location of the vessels and report this information back to Biscaretti. On the morning of 30 September two of the destroyers, Artigliere and Corazziere entered the port without being fired on and attacked the Alpagot (Akhisar class) and Hamid-Abad (Hamidabad) (Demirhisar class). The Ottoman ships were swiftly sunk, and whilst this action was proceeding the Alpino managed to cut out and tow off the steam yacht Tetied (Theties). Meanwhile an operation was undertaken at Valona (Vlore), whereby a destroyer entered the port and seized an Ottoman merchant ship.

Whilst these actions were nothing more than minor skirmishes and, of themselves, inconsequential, they had great significance in political terms. All the European Great Powers, and most particularly Italy’s ally Austria-Hungary, were extremely sensitive to any disturbance of the status quo in the Balkans. Might Italy’s action prove to be the ‘damned silly thing in the Balkans’ that would, so Otto von Bismarck is supposed to have predicted, precipitate a wider European war?3 Count Alois Lexa von Aehrenthal, the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Minister, certainly feared so. He is recorded by Sir Fairfax Cartwright, the British Ambassador to Vienna, as flying into ‘a perfect fury’ when Italy declared war over Tripoli, precisely because he feared it would increase the danger of war in the Balkans.4

Aehrenthal’s fears cannot have been soothed by the subsequent naval actions during the last days of September, and on 1 October he had called in the Italian ambassdor, Giuseppe Avarna di Gualtieri. According to Giolitti’s memoirs, Avarna had been informed that such operations were in ‘flagrant breach of our promises to localize the war in the Mediterranean,’ and that ‘serious consequences’ would ensue if they continued. Albania had been engulfed in insurrection against the Ottoman Empire since late 1910, which the government had difficulty suppressing. Attempts were still being made to pacify the area during the summer of 1911 with little success; the Albanian nationalists wanted the consolidation of four vilayets, those of Iskadora, Kosovo, Manastir, and Yanya, into a unified, self-governing, Albanian state.5 As Austria-Hungary perceived it, Italian interference in this unstable and troublesome region could only be in pursuit of national advantage.

Giolitti claimed that, because he feared that Italian actions at Prevesa might give Austria-Hungary the excuse to occupy Durazzo, he ordered Abruzzi to abstain from any operations near to, landing on, or bombardment of, the Ottoman coast.6 Giolitti’s successor as Prime Minister, Antonio Salandra, who assumed office in 1914, further stated that on 2 October 1911:

[…] the German Ambassador at Vienna, in a still more threatening manner, confidentially informed our Ambassador that Count Aehrenthal had requested him to telegraph to his Government to give the Italian Government to understand that if it continued its naval operations in the Adriatic and in the Ionian Seas it would have to deal directly with Austria-Hungary.7

The order to desist did not apparently get through to Abruzzi until 3-4 October. This can be deduced by noting that on the former date the vice-admiral was to be found, aboard the Vettor Pisani with the Ammiraglio di Saint Bon in support, off Preveza. From this position he sought permission from his superiors to issue an ultimatum to the effect that unless the Ottoman vessels surrendered to him within twenty-four hours he would bombard the place. He was promptly ordered to desist and no bombardment took place as Abruzzi withdrew.

Commander Biscaretti though was on detached duty, and he must not have received the order by 5 October. On the morning of that day Artigliere in company with Corazziere and the armoured cruiser Marco Polo stopped an Austro-Hungarian vessel in the bay at San Giovanni di Medua (Shengjin or Shen Gjin); a primitive harbour with ‘an open roadstead […], almost unprotected from the sea winds.’8 A boat party was sent to board the vessel, but this came under fire from artillery batteries on the shore. The Italian vessels replied and after some 45 minutes, and the expenditure of almost all the ship’s ammunition, the batteries were silenced and the Italians withdrew. During this exchange the Artigliere was slightly damaged and Biscaretti wounded in the foot by a shell burst, requiring his evacuation to the port of Brindisi.

The Austro-Hungarian protest was ‘quick and lively’ (subito e vivacemente) to quote Giolitti.9 The subsequent events are perhaps best conveyed by a press dispatch from Vienna dated 7 October 1911, that appeared in several English language newspapers around the world:

Italy apologized to Austria today for the naval activity it has been displaying on the coast of European Turkey since the war with the sultan broke out.

The apology followed an open threat from Vienna of an Austrian demonstration in Italian waters unless there was prompt explanation of the bombardment of San Giovanni de Medua. From the first Austria has been displeased with Italy’s disposition to carry its campaign from Africa into Europe. The San Giovanni de Medua affair was the last straw.

Italy is probably not much afraid of the Austrian navy, but it was realized that the threatened naval demonstration might be accompanied by an invasion of land from the north. Italy is not prepared to face such a development. It was, accordingly, prompt with its explanation that the naval commander who bombarded San Giovanni de Medua had exceeded his instructions, would be severely reprimanded, and that King Victor [Emmanuel III] had decided to withdraw all ships from the waters of European Turkey as an assurance that the incident would not be repeated.10

There is no doubt that the Italian actions seriously worried the Austro-Hungarian government, particularly the unfounded reports of troops landing. Admiral Rudolf Montecuccoli, the head of the Austro-Hungarian fleet, sent reinforcements in the shape of a division of battleships from Pula (Pola), the main naval base, to the south at Cattaro (Kotor). Even if the newspaper report quoted was correct in asserting that ‘Italy is probably not much afraid of the Austrian navy’ an outbreak of hostilities in the Adriatic, albeit limited, would have been a most unwelcome diversion. Much more serious, would have been the invasion from the north mentioned. This, though unrelated to Italy’s Adriatic adventures, was actually canvassed by the Chief of the Austro-Hungarian General Staff, Conrad von Hötzendorf. Conrad was intensely anti-Italian, regarding Italy as an uncertain and untrustworthy ally who would likely ignore treaties and prove hostile to Austria-Hungary in the event of a European war. He had translated these thoughts into, literally, concrete form by ensuring that modern fortifications, which could also provide a base for offensive operations, were constructed on the Folgaria and Lavarone plateau in the Dolomites. Built along the line of the border as it then was, these works were completed by 1910 and were intended to facilitate an Austro-Hungarian advance into Venetia and Northern Italy. With the Italian Army otherwise engaged in Tripoli, Conrad pressed for war, arguing that ‘Austria’s opportunity has come and it would be suicidal not to use it.’ This attitude was in direct contradiction to the foreign policy of Aerenthal, and the foreign minister was backed by the Emperor who slapped down the field marshal. On 15 November Franz Joseph summoned Conrad and informed him that his, and Austria-Hungary’s, policy was peace and the military had to conform. A fortnight later Conrad was replaced as Chief of Staff.11

Though the fears of Austria-Hungary were assuaged by the political decision to withdraw Italian naval units from the Ottoman coast – thus ‘virtually acknowledging Austria-Hungary’s hegemony over the Adriatic’12 – it was not entirely the fault of the politicians that they had been operating there in the way that they had. Or, if Giolitti and San Giuliano and their colleagues had sinned it was by omission rather than commission. Sergio Romano mentions the politicians ‘irritation at the navy’s initiative’ emerging in correspondence between them and the king, as well as with the Minister of Marine, Admiral Pasquale Leonardi-Cattolica.13 Indeed, Cattolica had to meet with Abruzzi and order him to carry out patrols but not to engage the enemy without precise orders to do so. Prior to this, the instructions from the ministry had been somewhat ambiguous.

The Duke of Abruzzi, Prince Luigi Amedeo Giuseppe Maria Ferdinando Francesco di Savoia Aosta, was a cousin of Victor Emmanuel III and famous as an explorer and mountaineer; Mount Luigi di Savoia in Uganda and the Abruzzi Spur on K2 are named after him.14 It seems undoubted that this gallant officer, and his subordinates, were anxious to make an impression that, as Romano remarks, would, with ‘brilliant success’ redeem the ignominy still lingering – the ‘grey years’ – after the Battle of Lissa.15 In the absence of clear orders to the contrary it was perfectly natural that they should seek to engage enemy forces; Italy and the Ottoman Empire were at war; there were Ottoman naval forces along the Adriatic coast; ergo, Italy should attack them.

It seems then that what the government of Austria-Hungary, and no doubt that of the Ottoman Empire, saw as a premeditated plan was nothing more than the over enthusiastic reaction of Abruzzi and his subordinates. Of course, the fault, ultimately, lay with Giolitti and the Italian government for not issuing clear and unambiguous orders. When they did so, the navy withdrew, though according to Romano the episode caused much dissatisfaction amongst naval officers who considered that Giolitti and the government had bowed to foreign pressure. Indeed they had, and, as a writer put it in 1913, the Austro-Hungarian veto rankled.16 It still rankled in 1915, at least enough to have been included in Salandra’s declaration justifying Italy’s entry into the Great War against Austria-Hungary and Germany:

We see now […] how our [former] allies aided us in the Libyan undertaking. The operations brilliantly begun by the Duke of the Abruzzi against the Turkish torpedo boats encountered at Preveza were stopped by Austria in a sudden and absolute manner.17

Austria-Hungary, with its common land border with Italy, could then have stopped the ‘Libyan undertaking’ had the political will been there. The intent might not have been to stop it, but if Conrad’s ideas had been put into practice then that would have been the effect. But of course Austria-Hungary, despite Conrad, had no wish to alienate Italy and thus rend the Triple-Alliance over a part of the world where it had no interests.

Britain was the other Great Power that could, quite easily, have stopped Italy’s invasion, and although British interests were not directly effected, they were impacted indirectly because of the large Islamic population of the British Empire, particularly that of India. The attack on Tripoli convinced many Indian Muslims that there were anti-Islamic forces bent upon subjugating and crushing the forces of Islam whenever and wherever possible.18 Thus Muslim loyalty to the Raj ‘received jolts’ from Italy’s invasion, and Britain’s perceived acquiescence in it.19 Sir Charles Hardinge, the Viceroy of India, noted this phenomenon and communicated it to Lord Crewe, the Secretary of State for India in London: ‘I hear from the North West Frontier Province where practically the whole population is Mahommedan that the war between Italy and Turkey is sole topic of discussion in the villages and among the tribes, and the bazaar version is that we have conspired with Italy to help her to seize Tripoli.’20

Even discounting the bazaar gossip, there seems no doubt that Italy’s action caused significant support for the Ottoman cause. The Right Honourable Syed Ameer Ali,21 the eminent jurist, author, Privy Councillor, and establisher of London’s first mosque in 1910, wrote to The Times from The Reform Club, Pall Mall. His letter was published on 11 October 1911:

It cannot be to the advantage of the British Empire or to the cause of peace to draw a veil over what is transpiring in the East as a consequence of the war that Italy is waging against Turkey. In this conviction I ask your permission to draw attention to two facts of peculiar significance.

The war is causing immense ferment throughout the [Muslim] world, and the resentment it has aroused has so far found expression in admirably restrained language. The news of the mass meetings held in British India, South Africa, and elsewhere to protest against the Italian action has not penetrated the principal organs of public opinion in this country; nevertheless the fact remains that the ferment and resentment are universal and deep.

The other fact is one of more sinister import – the Italians appear bent on giving a religious turn to this singular war.

A little while ago it was reported that the Pope had sent a blessed rosary to be hung on the Italian Admiral’s flagship as a harbinger of victory over the Turks; and now the Apostolic Delegate speaks in his message to his Holiness of the raising of the Cross of Christendom in Tripoli; whilst only a few days ago an Italian resident in London, lecturing to a fairly large audience, is reported to have urged the expulsion of the Turks from Europe and their ‘dispersal over the globe like the Jews.’ Similar hopes and wishes have been expressed in other quarters.

Now I venture to ask all those to whom the interests of the British Empire are sacred beyond temporary opportunities or the demands of expediency, what is the prospect that these two facts open up? England has unquestionably the greatest stake in the maintenance of peace in the Eastern world. She has in her charge the welfare and progress of 400,000,000 of people of whom fully one fourth are [Muslim].22 As a British subject who has worked for many years past in strengthening the bonds of sympathy between the East and West, I feel that it is of the utmost importance to England, for the sake of her great trusteeship, to do all in her power to bring the one-sided struggle to an early termination on an equitable basis. No one suggests that she should go to war single-handed in defence of the law of nations. But I am not singular in believing that the voice which has often spoken successfully against wrongdoing and injustice can still make itself heard without resort to force.23

This ‘immense ferment’ mainly took the form of collections to aid the Ottoman’s and boycotts of Italian goods.24 For example, at a mass meeting of around forty thousand Muslims in Bengal held on 22 October, one of the leaders of the Aid to Ottoman Red Crescent Society, founded earlier that month,25 argued that ‘according to the Qur’an all Muslims are brethren. Therefore Muslims should unite and help Turkey in every possible way, including the boycott.’ Another speaker insisted that the boycott should be universal so that ‘not a penny should be allowed to go into the pockets of the enemies’ who had attacked Islam.26 Collections were also made to raise funds to assist the Ottoman war effort.27 More direct methods were also mooted, as by, for example, when The London Muslim League, founded by Syed Ameer Ali in 1908 to ‘impress on [Muslims in England] the fact that their interests, their well-being and their development were bound up with British rule,’ threatened to raise volunteers who would attempt to travel to Tripoli and fight the Italian invasion.28

Hardinge, the man with ultimate responsibility for any disturbance or disruption that may have occurred amongst a Muslim population of nearly 66 million, was outraged by the Italian action. In a message of 15 October to Sir Arthur Nicolson, the Permanent Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs he stated that he had ‘never heard of a worse case of brigandage’ and asked ‘Were we squared by Italy? Because I do not otherwise understand how Italy could dare to move in the Mediterranean as her communications are entirely at the mercy of our Fleet.’29

British foreign policy was in the hands of Sir Edward Grey. Grey served twice as Foreign Secretary, firstly from 1892-95 in Gladstone’s final administration, and then from 1905-16 in the Campbell-Bannerman and Asquith administrations. From 1906 he authorised secret ‘discussions’ between the General Staffs of France and Britain but kept these hidden from his cabinet colleagues, and the full import of them even from the Prime Minister.30 As Lloyd George was to put it:

During the eight years that preceded the war, the Cabinet devoted a ridiculously small percentage of its time to a consideration of foreign affairs. […] Nothing was said about our military commitments. […] We were made to feel that, in these matters, we were reaching our hands towards the mysteries, and that we were too young in the priesthood to presume to enter into the sanctuary reserved for the elect.31

Grey’s policy towards Italy was, in essence, fairly simple; he wished to do nothing that might reinforce her adhesion to the Triple Alliance; Britain and France had need to ‘gain Italy against the darkening German menace.’32 This was, of course, the exact opposite of Austro-Hungarian and German policy. In purely naval terms, if Italy and Austria-Hungary were allied then their combined fleet could be a major factor in the Mediterranean. As previously related, Italy had four dreadnoughts under construction in 1911, whilst Austria-Hungary in reply had decided to build a similar number. Two of these Tegetthoff class vessels, Viribus Unitis and Tegetthoff, had been laid down in July and September 1910 respectively, whilst two more, Prinz Eugen and Szent István, were to be begun in January 1912. However, if Italy and Austria-Hungary were opposed, or at least not in active alliance, then their fleets, even with the additions proposed for the former, tended to cancel each other out. Since the British Royal Navy sought to concentrate its main strength in the North Sea, this was a matter of great strategic importance. Politically, Grey saw the danger that any unilateral intervention in the matter had the potential to upset European political equilibrium and thus precipitate a war. On the other hand he saw equal danger in a drawn out conflict causing Balkan problems. Given this, it comes as no surprise to note that Grey’s policy in respect of the Italo-Ottoman conflict was one of strict neutrality.33 He explained it in a message to Sir James Rennell Rodd, outlining his account of a meeting with Guglielmo Imperiali:

In 1902 we had made an agreement with Italy respecting Tripoli. From this we realized that in Tripoli especially Italy could not tolerate her interests being thrust aside or unfairly treated. Besides that the traditional friendly relations between England and Italy, the friendly feelings of the two peoples were such that steps, which were forced upon Italy in any part of the world to redress the wrongs of Italian subjects or protect Italian interests from unfair treatment would have our sympathy. But the outright and forcible annexation of Tripoli was an extreme step that might have indirect consequences very embarrassing to other Powers, and amongst others to ourselves, who had so many Mohammedan subjects. I hoped therefore that the Italian Government would conduct affairs so as to limit as far as possible the embarrassment to other Powers.

The Ambassador said that it would be impossible for Italy to retire from Tripoli and asked me what precisely I meant by suggesting that Italy should limit the consequences of her action.

I replied that we could not foresee what developments would follow the action of Italy and I hoped that in any developments which occurred Italy would so conduct affairs that the consequences might be as little far-reaching and embarrassing as possible.

The Ambassador asked whether I meant that we might intervene if there was war between Italy and Turkey. I replied that I was speaking from the point of view of non intervention.34

This policy of ‘non intervention’ was replicated by all the Great Powers and all of them took the position that the ‘consequences’ would be ‘as little far-reaching and embarrassing as possible’ provided the conflict was contained in North Africa. Whilst it was much to Italy’s advantage, at least initially, it was highly detrimental to Ottoman interests. It meant that when Hakki Pasa sought assistance from them he was in effect advised ‘to give way as gracefully as he could.’35