View in the old part of Sarajevo, the capital of Bosnia.
Now the guns roar out from the citadel to announce the coming of the Archduke and his wife. The Archduke inspects the troops drawn up at the station, and then he and his wife enter a motor-car and drive towards the Town Hall, where the mayor is waiting to receive them. Suddenly, as they drive along one of the quays, you hear a loud report and see a cloud of smoke arise. What has happened? A young printer, twenty years of age, has hurled a bomb at the Archduke. He wards it off with his arm, but it has wounded an officer in the next car, and has inflicted injuries on several bystanders. Neither of the royal pair is hurt, though, as you may well imagine, they are much upset by this attempt on their lives.
The motor moves on, and arrives at the Town Hall, where the mayor, who knows nothing of what has happened, comes forward and begins to read an address of welcome. The Archduke, who is much annoyed at the treatment which he has received, cuts the mayor short angrily. "What," says he, "is the good of your speeches? I come to Sarajevo on a visit, and I get bombs thrown at me. It is outrageous!"
After a short stay at the Town Hall the Archduke and his wife re-enter their motor to return to the station. They have not gone far before a High School student hurls another bomb at them. It fails to explode, but the lad, who is armed with a pistol, fires three shots in quick succession. The first bullet strikes the Archduke in the throat. His wife, who loves him tenderly, throws herself in front of him, in order to shield him from further attack, and the second bullet enters her body. The third bullet completes the deadly work, and the dying pair are rapidly conveyed to the palace. The Archduke rouses himself. "Sophie," he says to his stricken wife, "live for our children." But she, too, is mortally wounded, and in a few minutes both are dead.
No possible excuse can be found for this foul deed. It was black murder—the worst of all possible crimes. The printer and the High School student were seized, and at first they denied that they knew each other. Bit by bit, however, it was discovered that not only were they working together, but that a great plot had been formed to kill the Archduke that day. Had they failed, there were others in the crowd ready and willing to take their places.
The date chosen for the Archduke's visit to Sarajevo was most unfortunate. On that day, in the year 1389, the Serbs[19] of Servia, which then included Bosnia, suffered the most terrible defeat in all their history. In the battle which was then fought, treachery was at work, and the best and bravest of their race perished on the battlefield. The Serbs have never forgotten the story of how their sires were slaughtered on the "Field of the Blackbirds." Even now their bards sing national songs which tell of the glorious deeds of those who fell at Kossovo,[20] and call upon the Serbs of to-day to spare neither "land, nor gold, nor son, nor wife, nor limb, nor life" in upholding the freedom of their race.
Amidst the high Alps a pistol shot may start an avalanche high on the snowy mountains. Slowly it moves at first; soon it gathers speed, and at last it comes crashing down with terrible force upon the quiet homesteads in the valley. So did the pistol-shot of a schoolboy in far-off Bosnia start an avalanche which has swept down upon Europe, leaving death and destruction and untold misery in its train.