Those who know Vienna will recognise the unchanged contours of the country, even fifty years after that summer day when the tired way-worn German soldiers lay panting in the heat, watching the great city as a cat watches a mouse, and waiting the word of command. Would it come in time? The armistice had but two days more to run! And they who had at one time thirsted to get at their enemy’s capital and so to seize the nation by its throat were now wearied of war, they were many leagues from home, and had had their fill of bloodshed. On the evening of the 26th the welcome news arrived, peace had been made, and there was but one feeling throughout the whole army,—the feeling contained in the word “home.”
The victory left Prussia supreme among the German states for, included in the terms of peace, among other things, was the condition that Austria should retire from the Germanic confederation, leaving her great rival undisputed master.
It was during this war that Hanover made so brave an attempt to play up to Austria, and not being backed properly by the other smaller states, found herself in a pitiable position at the mercy of Prussia. It was then that the kingdom of Hanover was absorbed by Prussia and never restored to the King, though he was allowed to live elsewhere in Germany. The feud thus begun is in the way of being healed at the present time by the marriage of the German Emperor’s only daughter with the ex-heir of the House of Hanover.
The relations between Austria and Italy were also changed by this war, though that must be further considered when we come to the Tyrol.
The Prussian King was undisputed lord of the German confederation, but he aimed at more than that, and by the brain and audacity of his counsellor Bismarck he attained his aim, for in 1871 he was hailed as German Emperor, reigning as an hereditary ruler over the Germanic states, and thus began the second German Empire.
In 1888 the Triple Alliance was formed, between Italy, Germany, and Austro-Hungary, each nation pledging itself to assist either of the others if attacked.
CHAPTER III
THE EMPEROR
Few monarchs have waded through such deep waters of sorrow as the venerable Emperor of Austria, who was born on August 18, 1830, and succeeded to the throne on the abdication of his uncle, the Emperor Ferdinand, and the renunciation of all rights by his own father. To the good-looking high-spirited lad of eighteen the world probably did not seem difficult to conquer, even though his dual inheritance was torn by inward throes of dissension. It was when he was twenty-three that he met his beautiful cousin Elizabeth, the second of the five daughters of the Duke Maximilian Joseph of Bavaria, at Ischl, and immediately fell in love with her, though she was only sixteen. Though negotiations had already been entered into for his marriage with her elder sister, he declared he would marry her and no one else, and in spite of her surprised exclamation as to why he should choose one so insignificant, when told of this prospect by her mother, he carried through his project and they were betrothed in three days, though not married till eight months after. The young couple were first cousins, their mothers being sisters. On that large family of sons and daughters of the house of Bavaria many sorrows have fallen. The tragic end of the Empress is described below; one of her sisters, the Duchess of Alençon, was burnt to death in the terrible fire at the charity bazaar in Paris a few years earlier. Another, having married the Crown Prince of Naples, was driven from the throne with him.
The Imperial marriage did not turn out a success. Elizabeth shared to the full in the eccentric tendencies of her family, an eccentricity which developed in the elder and reigning branch of her house into madness. She was of a melancholy temperament, and entirely without the power of adapting herself. Young as she was, her tastes were formed, and the somewhat wild out-of-door life she had led as a girl had imbued her with a hatred of functions and ceremonies. She was suddenly elevated to a supreme position in one of the most conventional courts in Europe. Small wonder was it that, in spite of her unquestioned beauty, she alienated the hearts of her courtiers by her want of tact and obvious dislike of court life.
Two daughters were born to her before the longed-for son, and one of them died. This increased her unhappiness, but when at length a prince appeared it was hoped things would go better. Unfortunately the Empress’s eccentricity increased rather than diminished. She took umbrage at the Emperor’s love affairs, which might have been condoned in one in such a position of temptation, and at last she left her home and children and wandered over Europe for many years.