The Austrian troops were being hurried to the front. Some were going to Galicia, others towards Servia, and a third lot towards the Italian front. “No one knows what the Italians may do.... If only we had kept on good terms with them, we could face the Germans to-day.” “We must not grumble. It was a choice—either fall into the hands of the Germans or be overwhelmed with Slavs.” “I prefer the Germans,” said a fair-haired burgher. “They are kinsmen at least.” “Not the Prussians. You don’t know the Prussians. They are the last word in unscrupulousness.” “Clever they are, but without any of the finer feelings. Save us from the Prussians,” said another. “The Slavs will prosper in spite of the war.” “They are to be put into the front of the battle.” “What will be the use of that? It is only one generation, and there are large families of children at home.” “The Slav mothers will bring up their children to hate us for this. We shall have more enemies within our borders.” “The German children will die from want and neglect. Their mothers are accustomed to comfort, even to luxury; they cannot till the fields and bring in the crops. But the Slavs, who are used to poverty and hardship, will weather the storm.” “Yes, you are right; that is all we shall gain from this war—a Slavonic Austria-Hungary overrun by Serbs and Croats, who will trade with our Czechs.” “God save us from the Prussians!” That was heard time and time again as the Austrians realised that the days of happy-go-lucky drifting were over for ever, and that all their affairs were handed over to the care of Prussians. The Austrian always shows great delicacy of feeling. He is not far behind the Frenchman in this. The German does not know the significance of the word. His dealings with Austrian officials, who were suddenly superseded by Germans, were on the mailed-fist principle. “The Prussian could not behave decently, even if he tried!” “Trample upon the weak; fling the incapable into the street!” These were the bitter remarks heard on all sides.
The most imposing but saddest sight of all during the mobilisation was the arrival of the aged Emperor and his heir in Vienna. The old man, seated in an open carriage, although the heat was intense, stared at the vacancy in front of him. His lips were tightly closed. His heir, a stripling who looks much younger than his years, looked right and left. The crowd cheered and outdid itself in its expressions of loyalty. There was no joy in the voices of the people, but a lingering tone of regret. “Was this the last time that the Emperor would ride by in state?” “Was his place to be taken by another?”
The Vienna crowd, which had always been sullen and refused to cheer when Kaiser Wilhelm passed through the streets, had gauged events with perfect justice. The old man and the stripling—as they called the Archduke Carl Francis Joseph—were totally unfit to cope with the Kaiser. The Habsburgs would sink into a subordinate position and be nothing more than other German princes, once independent, who had sunk into subserviency to the Prussians. The people, with dim eyes, cheered again. The Emperor had always been popular. His general audiences, where he received all and sundry who had a good case to lay before him, his personal courage, which needed no proof, and other kingly qualities, always endeared him to the crowd. After ordering the execution of large numbers of political criminals in the days of his youth and middle age, he sought to compensate for this in his old age by pardoning many criminals. He could not be induced to sign a death sentence. This mercy shown towards men who richly deserved death for their many crimes made him popular. The crowd saw no discrepancy in the acts of a sovereign who would slay a hundred men who attempted to gain freedom for the country without scruple in his youth, and in fear of punishment after death, refused to permit wrongdoers to be executed as the time of his passing away grew nearer. They failed to understand the Emperor’s motive. He hoped that Heaven would overlook his former crimes towards the subject-peoples if he could show a contra-account of deeds of mercy.
Archduke Carl Francis Joseph wore an imperturbable expression. No one could fathom the state of his mind. Was he merely thinking of his own private affairs, or was he concerned for the fate which hung over Austria-Hungary? Who shall say? Did he prefer to live as a ruler without responsibilities, like the King of Saxony, to the toil of the life of a reigning monarch? So many of the Habsburgs have abdicated when the responsibilities of a throne have descended upon them, so many members of the Imperial family have left the pomp and splendour of the Court for a quiet life in retirement, that it is difficult to surmise what feelings filled the heart of the young man as he looked forwards to Armageddon.
The Emperor’s feelings were plain. He had always said, “Après moi le déluge,” but he realised that the deluge would not wait for his death. His reign, which had begun to the sound of battle and dire defeat, was to end to the death-song of the Empire. The sceptre that his ancestors had confided to him was slipping from his grasp. His adversaries had been too much for him. Kaiser Wilhelm had used methods which were not permitted even to politicians. He had broken faith with his ally. The Emperor, the keener man of the two, was too old, and had not suspected the depths of falsity under the mask of frank bonhomie. Kaiser Wilhelm had even deceived the Church, always the adviser and comforter of the old Emperor.
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Transcriber’s Notes
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