No one thought of a great war that night, for the news that Russia intended to stand by Servia had been carefully kept back.
Count Berchtold, having committed the Government to war, had a difficult task before him. It was very doubtful whether Emperor Francis Joseph could be prevailed upon to sign the order for a general mobilisation. Large bodies of troops had already left for both the Servian and Russian fronts, but no general mobilisation could take place without an order signed by the Emperor. The aged monarch was anxious that Servia should be chastised. But he did not wish to risk a world-war. He was afraid of Russia, with her immense resources both in men and material. It was now that the long years of work accomplished by German diplomacy in Vienna bore fruit.
Tchirsky, the German Ambassador, visited Count Berchtold. He showed him that Austria must go to war or lose her position as a Great Power in Europe. There would be a world-war, but it must come. Germany intended to go to Paris and St. Petersburg. This was an opportunity such as might never come again. It was only the question of dealing with the old Emperor. If he knew the truth, he would never sign the mobilisation order. Why should he be consulted? He did not know of the Russian Note. Why not keep it back until the irrevocable decision had been taken?
Berchtold listened to the voice of the tempter and fell. He informed the Emperor that Europe would look on with folded hands while Servia was chastised for the assassination of the Archduke. This seemed very natural to the old autocrat. He was in residence at Ischl, as usual in summer-time, and had no opportunity of conversing with anyone who could have told him the truth about Russia.
It is doubtful whether Berchtold was fully aware of the magnitude of the decision he had taken upon himself. He was fully aware that he was deceiving the Emperor, and excused his conduct by his conviction that the ruler was no longer capable of judging what was best for the country. He had been attacked by the Vienna Press for years. He was accused of feebleness and weakness by Count Tchirsky’s organs; now he would show strength and resolution. As often happens with weak men, he showed it at the wrong time.
When the news of war was announced in Vienna, the crowd immediately started for the Servian Legation. The Serbs, with great astuteness, had always chosen a legation that could not be looted or even damaged without the rest of the house being pulled down. They always took the quiet apartments at the back of one of the immense barrack-like houses that line the great streets in Vienna. Demonstrations had been made frequently in front of the Legation during the last few weeks, and the crowd reached the street to find it blocked by troops. It then turned towards the Embassy quarter. The Vienna police were well prepared. Several regiments of soldiers had been called out to assist them, and the Embassies being for the most part close together, it was easy to guard them. None the less, it was a stirring night. The procession divided into two streams. One went to the French Embassy, the other turned its steps towards the Russian and British Embassies. Neither Germany nor Austria-Hungary imagined for an instant that England would take part in the fight. They were convinced that she would consider it to her interest to remain neutral. The crowd, however, with a correct instinct, regarded England as an enemy. Three times the roughs broke through the cordon of guards and rushed upon the Embassy buildings, but were turned back by the military. Those in command had received very definite orders. The Embassies were to be protected at all costs. Later on the crowd wreaked its fury upon shops owned by Serbs. They were gutted in a few minutes, and no one interfered. The police even stood by and admired the good work. Serbs and Russians were maltreated in the streets. Terrible incidents occurred. The police were to blame, for it would have been easy to interfere. Just as they had allowed the Mohammedans to plunder the Serbs and appropriate their belongings at Sarajevo after the assassination, so they permitted the same thing to be done in Vienna. A spirit was roused that will not be easy to quell. The bloodthirstiness of the mob is easily excited, but calming it is another matter, as the old despots in France learned to their cost. The latent quality of cruelty, which is hidden beneath the more obvious characteristics of the Viennese, was seen at its worst. Good-tempered toleration gave way to bestiality. That spirit of fair-play which habitually animates an Austrian crowd was replaced by a desire for other people’s belongings. The truce between the members of the various races, kept for half a century, was over. German and Slav were at war. Racial hate flamed up. Passions that will take long to cool were excited. The great and tremendous struggle between the two great predominating races in Eastern Europe, the Germans and the Slavs, had begun.
CHAPTER XXVIII
WHAT WOULD ENGLAND SAY?
Next morning the jubilant feeling that had pervaded Vienna the night before was totally gone. A reaction had set in. Everyone realised that the war was not to be a punitive expedition. It was a world-war. The telegram sent by Russia was published to the world, and Austria waited with ill-concealed anxiety to know what England intended to do. Germany was convinced of England’s neutrality; she was certain that Italy meant to go in with the two mighty Powers that were to sweep the European chessboard with their mighty armies. Austria-Hungary was not so confident as Germany. She knew that Italy was a most uncertain factor. With diplomatic cunning she had concealed what she knew of Italy’s intentions from her ally. She had feared that Germany might not back her if she knew that the two Central Empires would be forced to stand alone. The Kaiser had always said that he must have a fleet in the Mediterranean at call before he began a world-war. If Italy stood by him, everything was easy. Italy now declared her neutrality. The Austrians expected this, and worse; they said quite freely, “Now that Italy has the chance, she will turn upon us.” Guilty consciences helped them to realise the truth. They had oppressed Italy for so long that they never even expected her to do anything but take advantage of the chance. Her statesmen were pessimists. They could never share Kaiser Wilhelm’s optimism. They were aware that Austria had played the part of tyrant, and did not expect gratitude. Unaccustomed to keep treaties themselves, they did not expect other people to consider them as binding when a chance of doing better presented itself. Austria, with her cynicism, came much nearer the truth than Germany, who oppressed her Slav subjects and then expected them to join in the song of “Deutschland über Alles” and to love the Fatherland.
The Austrian politician, with a fineness of perception to which his German confrère is a stranger, understood that England would go in with her allies. Germany argued, “It is Britain’s interest to remain neutral, to capture the whole carrying-trade of Europe.” The Austrian people hoped and believed that they might be right, but her politicians had a conviction that Britain would not fall into Germany’s carefully-spread toils. The Austrians also suspected that Britain knew more of Germany’s aims than she acknowledged. They always complained that Britain was an unknown factor. No statesman laid his cards on the table as the Germans or as they themselves did.
Yet, having no cause to detest Britain, they naturally understood her better than the Germans, who were blinded by the bitterest hate.