II.

I arrive at Vienna at 10 o’clock and alight at the “Münsch” hotel,

a very old-established one, and very preferable, in my opinion, to

those gigantic and sumptuous “Ring” establishments where one is a mere

number. I find awaiting me a letter from the Baron de Neumann, my

colleague of the University of Vienna, and a member of the _Institut de

Droit International_. He informs me that the Minister Taaffe will await

me at 11 o’clock, and the Minister for Foreign Affairs, M. de Kálnoky,

at 3 P. M. It is always well to make the acquaintance of

Ministers when visiting foreign countries. It is the means of obtaining

the key to doors generally closed, to consulting documents otherwise

inaccessible, and to getting out of prison if by mistake you happen to

be one day thrown therein.

The Home Office is a sombre-looking palace, situated in the

Judenplatz, a dark and narrow street in old Vienna; the apartments

are spacious, correct but bare; the furniture severe, simple but

pure eighteenth century style. It resembles the abode of an ancient

family who must live carefully to keep out of debt. How different to

the Government Offices in Paris, where luxury is displayed everywhere

in gilt panellings, Lyons velvets, painted ceilings and magnificent

staircases—as, for instance, at the Financial and Foreign Offices. I

prefer the simplicity of the official buildings of Vienna and Berlin.

The State ought not to set an example of prodigality. The Comte Taaffe

is in evening dress, as he is going to a conference with the Emperor.

He, nevertheless, receives my letter of introduction from one of

his cousins most amiably, and also the little note I bring him from

my friend Neumann, who was his professor of public law. The present

policy of the Prime Minister, which gives satisfaction to the Tscheks

and irritates the Germans so much, is not unjustifiable. He reasons

thus:—What is the best means to ensure the comfort and contentment of

several persons living together in the same house? Is it not to leave

them perfectly free to regulate their lives just as they think well?

Force them to live all in the same way to take their meals and amuse

themselves together, and they will be certain, very shortly, to quarrel

and separate. How is it that the Italians of the Canton of Tesino never

think of uniting with Italy? Because they are perfectly satisfied

to belong to Switzerland. Remember that Austria’s motto is _Viribus

unitis_. True union would be born of general contentment. The sure way

to satisfy all is to sacrifice the rights of none. “Yes,” I said, “if

unity could be made to spring from liberty and autonomy it would be

indestructible.”

Count Taaffe has long been in favor of federalism. Under the

Taaffe-Potoçki Ministry, in 1869, he had sketched a plan of reforms

with the object of extending the sway of provincial governments.[6] In

some articles in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_, in 1868-9 I tried to show

that this was the best solution of the question. Count Taaffe is still

young; he was born in 1833, Feb. 24. He is descended from an Irish

family and is a peer of that country, with the title of Viscount Taaffe

of Correw and Baron of Ballymote; but his ancestors left their home and

lost their Irish estates on account of their attachment to the Stuarts.

They took service, then, under the Dukes of Lorraine, and one of them

distinguished himself at the siege of Vienna in 1683. Count Edward,

the present Minister, was born at Prague. His father was President of

the Supreme Court of Justice. He himself commenced his career in the

Hungarian Administration under the Baron Bach, who, seeing his great

aptitudes and his perseverance, procured him rapid advancement. Taaffe

became successively Vice-Governor of Bohemia, Governor of Salzburg,

and finally Governor of Upper Austria. Called to the Ministry of the

Interior in 1867, he signed the famous “Ausgleich” of December 21,

which forms the basis of the present Dual Empire. After the fall of the

Ministry, he was appointed Governor of the Tyrol, and held that post to

general satisfaction for a space of seven years. On his return to power

he again took up the portfolio of the Interior, and was also appointed

President of the Council. He continued to pursue his federalist policy,

but with more success than in 1869. The concessions he makes to the

Tscheks are a subject of both grief and wonder in Vienna. It is said

that he does it to secure their votes for the revision of the law of

primary education in favor of reactionary clericalism. Those who are

of this opinion must forget that he has clearly shown his leaning to

federalism for more than sixteen years.

What is more astonishing is the contradiction between Austria’s home

and foreign policy. At home the Slav movement is encouraged. All is

conceded to it, with the exception of the re-establishment of the

realm of St. Wenceslas, the road to which is, however, being prepared.

Abroad, on the contrary, and especially beyond the Danube, this

movement is opposed and suppressed as much as possible, even at the

risk of dangerously increasing Russia’s influence and popularity. This

contradiction may be explained after this wise. The “Common” Ministry

of the Empire is entirely independent of the Ministry of Cis-Leithania.

This “Common” Ministry, presided over by the Chancellor, is composed

of three Ministers—viz., those of Foreign Affairs, Finances, and War;

it alone settles foreign policy, and the Hungarian element is dominant

here. Count Taaffe’s principal residence is at Ellisham in Bohemia.

“Bailli” of the Order of Malta, he possesses the Golden Fleece. He is,

in fact, in every respect, an important personage. In 1860 he married

the Countess Irma de Czaky of Keresztszegk, by whom he has had a son

and five daughters. He has, thus, one foot in Bohemia and the other in

Hungary. All unanimously admit his extraordinary aptitudes, his

indefatigable energy, and his clever administration; but in Vienna they

complain that he is too aristocratic, and has too great a weakness for

the clergy. Probably a statue as high as the Hradsin Cathedral will

be raised in his honor at Prague, if he persuades the Emperor to be

crowned there.

At three o’clock I proceeded to see Count Kálnoky at the Foreign Office

in the Ballplatz. It is very well situated, near to the Imperial

residence, in a wide street, and in sight of the Ring. Large reception

rooms, solemn-looking and cold; gilded chairs and white and gold

panellings, red curtains, polished floorings, and no carpets. On the

walls, portraits of the Imperial family. While waiting to be announced,

I think of Metternich. It was here he resided. In 1812 Austria decided

the fall of Napoleon. Now, again, she holds in her hands the destinies

of Europe; for the balance changes as she moves towards the north,

the east, or the west; and I am about to see the Minister who directs

her foreign policy. I expected to find myself in the presence of an

imposing-looking person, with white hair, and very stiff; so I was

agreeably surprised on being most affably received by a man of about

forty, dressed in a brown morning suit, with a blue cravat. An open

and very pleasing expression, and eyes brimming over with wit. All

the Kálnoky family have this particularity, it appears. He possesses

the quiet, refined, yet simple and modest distinction of manner of an

English nobleman. Like many Austrians of the upper class, he speaks

French like a Parisian. I think this is due to their speaking six or

seven languages equally well, so that the particular accent of each

becomes neutralized. The English and the Germans, even when they know

French thoroughly, have still a foreign accent when speaking it; not

so the Austrians. Count Kálnoky asks what are my plans for my journey.

When he hears that I intend studying the question of the Eastern

railways, he says:

“That is our great preoccupation at the present moment. In the West

they pretend that we are anxious for conquest. This is absurd. It

would be very difficult for us to make any which would satisfy the two

parties in the Empire, and it is in fact greatly to our interest that

peace should be maintained. But we are dreaming of different sorts of

conquests, which, as an economist, you can but approve. I speak of

conquests we are desirous of making for our industries, trade, and

civilization. For this to be possible, we want railways in Servia,

Bulgaria, Bosnia, and Macedonia; and, above all, a connection with the

Ottoman lines. Engineers and diplomatists are already at work, and

will soon succeed, I hope. I do not think any one will complain or

throw blame on us when a Pullman car takes him comfortably from Paris

to Constantinople in three days. We are working for the benefit of the

Western world.”

It has been said that speech was given to diplomatists to conceal

their thoughts. I believe, though, that when Austrian statesmen deny

any ideas of conquest and annexation in the East, they are expressing

the true intentions of the Imperial Government. The late Chancellor de

Haymerlé expressed similar opinions when I saw him in Rome in 1879, and

in a letter which I received from him shortly before his death. Baron

Haymerlé was better acquainted with the East and the Balkan Peninsula

than any one. He had lived there many years, first as dragoman of the

Austrian Embassy, and afterwards as a Government envoy, and he was a

perfect master of all the different languages of the East.

The present Chancellor, Count Kálnoky, of Körospatak, is of Hungarian

origin, as his name indicates; but he was born at Littowitz, in

Moravia, December 29, 1832. Most of his landed estates are in that

province, amongst others Prödlitz, Ottaslawitz and Szabatta. He has

several brothers, and a very lovely sister who has been twice married,

first to Count Jean Waldstein, the widower of a Zichy, who was already

62 years of age, and, secondly, to the Duke of Sabran. Chancellor

Kálnoky’s career has been very extraordinary. He left the army in 1879,

with the grade of Colonel, and took up diplomacy. He obtained a post

at Copenhagen, where he appeared destined to play a very insignificant

part in political affairs. Shortly after, however, he was appointed to

St. Petersburg, the most important of all diplomatic posts, and, on

the death of Haymerlé, he was called to Vienna as Foreign Minister,

and thus in three years he advanced from the position of a cavalry

officer, brilliant and elegant it is true, but with no political

influence, to be the arbiter of the destinies of the Austrian Empire,

and consequently of those of Europe. How may this marvellously rapid

advancement, reminding one of the tales of the Grand Viziers in the

“Arabian Nights,” be accounted for? It is generally considered to

be due to Andrassy’s friendship. But the real truth is very little

known. Count Kálnoky is even cleverer as a writer than as speaker.

His despatches from foreign Courts were really finished models. The

Emperor, a most indefatigable and conscientious worker, reads all the

despatches from the Ambassadors, and was much struck with those from

St. Petersburg, noting Kálnoky as destined to fill high functions

in the State. At St. Petersburg he charmed every one by his wit and

amiability, and in spite of the distrust felt for his country became

_persona grata_ at the Court there. When he became Chancellor, the

Emperor gave him the rank of Major-General.

It was thought in the beginning that his friendship for Russia might

lead him to come to terms with that Power, and perhaps also with

France, and to break off the alliance with Germany; but Kálnoky does

not forget that he is Hungarian and the friend of Andrassy, and that

the pivot of Hungarian policy, since 1866, has been a close alliance

with Berlin. In the summer of 1883 the German papers more than once

expressed vague doubts as to Austria’s fidelity, and public opinion at

Vienna, and more especially as Pesth, was rather astir on the subject.

Kálnoky’s visit to Gastein, where the Emperor Wilhelm showed him

every mark of affection, and his interview with M. de Bismarck, where

everything was satisfactorily explained, completely silenced these

rumors. At the present, the young Minister’s position is exceedingly

secure. He enjoys the Emperor’s full confidence, and, apparently, that

of the nation also, for, in the last session of the Trans-and

Cis-Leithanian Delegations he was acclaimed by all parties, even by

the Tscheks who are just now dominant in Cis-Leithania. Count Kálnoky

is hitherto unmarried, which fact, it is said, renders Vienna mothers

despairing and husbands uneasy.

I pass my evenings at the Salm-Lichtensteins’. I had already the

pleasure of making the acquaintance of the Altgräfin in Florence,

and I am very glad to have an opportunity of meeting her husband, a

member of Parliament very deeply interested in the Tscheko-German

question. He belongs to the Austrian Liberal party, and severely

blames Taaffe’s policy, and the alliance that the Feudal party,

and especially members of his own and of his wife’s families, have

concluded with the ultra-Tscheks. “Their aim is,” he says, “to obtain

the same situation for Bohemia as for Hungary. The Emperor would go to

Prague to receive the crown of St. Wenceslas. An autonomous government

would be re-established in Bohemia under the direction of a Diet,

as in Hungary. The Empire would become triune instead of dual. Save

for questions common to all, the three States would be independent

of each other, united only in the person of the Sovereign. Such an

arrangement answered admirably in the Middle Ages, when it was usual;

but at the present day, when we are surrounded on all sides by great

united Powers, as France, Russia, Prussia and Italy, it is senseless

to advocate it. I admit of federation for small neutral States like

Switzerland, or for a large country embracing an entire Continent,

like the United States; but I consider that for Austria, situated, as

she is, in the heart of Europe, exposed on all sides to complications

and to the greed and envyings of her many neighbors, it would be

absolute perdition. My good friends of the Feudal party, supported by

the clergy, hope that when autonomy is established in Bohemia, and the

country is completely withdrawn from the influence of the Liberals of

the Central Parliament, they themselves will be the masters there, and

the former order of things will be reset on foot. I think they make a

very great mistake. I believe that when the Tscheks have attained the

end they have in view, they will turn against their present allies.

They are at heart all democrats, varying in shade from pale pink to

bright scarlet; but all will band together against the aristocracy and

the clergy, and will make common cause with the German population of

our towns, who are almost all Liberals. The country inhabitants would

also in a great measure join them, and thus the aristocracy and the

clergy would be inevitably vanquished. If necessary the ultra-Tscheks

would call up the memories of John Huss and of Ziska, to ensure the

triumph of their party.

“Strange to say,” he continues, “the majority of the old families

heading the national movement in Bohemia are of German origin, and

do not even speak the language they wish to be made official. The

Hapsburg dynasty, our capital, our civilization, the initiative and

persistent perseverance to which Austria owes its creation—are not

all these Germanic? In Hungary, German, the language of our Emperor,

is forbidden; it is excluded also in Gallicia, in Croatia, and will

soon be so also in Carinthia, in Transylvania, and in Bohemia. The

present policy is perilous in every respect. It is deeply wounding to

the German element, which is nothing less than the enlightened classes,

commerce, money—the power, in fact, of modern times. If autonomy

is established in Bohemia, it will deliver over the clergy and the

aristocracy to the Tschek democrats and Hussites.”

“All that you say,” I answer, “is perfectly clear. I can offer but

one objection, which is: that from time to time in the affairs of

humanity certain irresistible currents are to be met with. They are so

irresistible that nothing subdues them, and any impediment in their way

merely serves to increase their force. The nationality movement is one

of these. See what a prodigious reawakening! One might almost compare

it to the resurrection of the dead. Idioms buried hitherto in darkness

spring forth into light and glory. What was the German language in the

eighteenth century, when Frederick boasted that he ignored it, and

prided himself on writing French as perfectly as Voltaire? True, it was

Luther’s language; yet it was not spoken by the upper and educated

classes. Forty years ago, what was the Hungarian tongue? The despised

dialect of the pastors of the Puzta. German was the only language

spoken in good society and in Government offices, and, at the Diet,

Latin. At the present day the Magyar dialect is the language of the

press, of the parliament, of the theatre, of science, of academies,

of the university, of poetry, and of fiction; henceforth the

recognized and exclusive official language, it is imposed even upon

the inhabitants of Croatia or Transylvania, who have no wish for it.

Tschek is gradually securing for itself the same place in Bohemia as

Magyar had attained in Hungary. A similar phenomenon is taking place

in Croatia, the dialect there, formerly merely a popular _patois_, now

possesses a university at Agram, poets and philologists, a national

press, and a theatre. The Servian tongue, which is merely Croatian

written in Cyrillic characters, has become the official, literary,

parliamentary, and scientific language of Servia. It is in precisely

the same position as its elder brothers, French and German, in their

respective countries. It is the same for the Bulgarian idiom in

Bulgaria and Roumelia, for the Romanian in Romania, for Polish in

Galicia, for Finn in Finland, and soon also in Flanders, where, as

elsewhere, the literary reawakening precedes political claims. With a

constitutional government, the nationality party is sure to triumph,

because there is a constant struggle between the political opponents

as to which shall make the most concessions in order to secure votes

for themselves. This has been also the case in Ireland. Tell me, do

you think it possible that any Government would be able to suppress so

deeply grounded, so universal a movement, whose root is in the very

heart of long-enslaved races, and which must fatally develop as what

is called modern civilization progresses? What is to be done, then, to

quell this irresistible pressing forward of races all claiming their

place in the sunshine? Centralize and compress them, as Schmerlíng and

Bach tried to do? It is too late for that now. The only thing is to

make compromises with these divers nationalities, as Count Taaffe is

trying to do, being careful, at the same time, to protect the rights

of the minority.

“But,” answers the Altgraf, “in Bohemia we Germans are in a minority,

the Tscheks could crush us mercilessly·”

The following day I called on M. de V., an influential Conservative

member of Parliament. He appears to me even more distressed than

Count Salm.

“An Austrian of the old school, a sincere black and yellow, I am,

and even, says M. de V., what you call in your extraordinary Liberal

jargon, a Reactionist. My attachment to the Imperial family is

absolute, as being the common centre of all parties in the State.

I am attached to Count Taaffe, because he is the representative of

Conservative principles; but I deplore his federalistic policy, which,

if pursued, will certainly lead to the disintegration of the Empire.

My audacity even goes so far as to declare that Metternich was a

clever man. Our good friends, the Italians, reproached him with having

said that Italy is a mere geographical expression. But of our empire,

which he made so powerful, and, on the whole, so happy, not even that

will be left, if this system of chopping it into pieces be followed

much longer. It will become a kaleidoscope instead of a State, a mere

collection of dissolving views. Do you recollect Dante’s lines?

‘Quivi sospiri, pianti ed alti guai

Risonavan per l’aer senza stelle.

Diverse lingue, orribile favelle,

Parole di dolore, accenti d’ira,

Voci alte e fioche, e suon di man con elle.’

“This is the state of things that is being prepared for us. You would

hardly, perhaps, believe that this mania is now so violently raging

that the Germans in Bohemia, dreading the future power of the Tscheks,

have requested autonomy for that portion of the country where they are

in a majority. On the other hand the Tscheks would never suffer the

division of their realm of St. Wenceslas, so this is another cause of

quarrel. This struggle of races is but a return to barbarous ages. You

are a Belgian and I an Austrian; could we not therefore agree to manage

a business or direct an institution together?” “Of course,” I

reply. “When a certain degree of culture is attained, the important

point is conformity of feeling rather than a common language, but

at the outset, language is the means of arriving at intellectual

culture. The motto of one of our Flemish societies affirms this

most energetically: _De taal is het volk_ (‘Language is everything

for a people’). In my opinion, reason and virtue are the important

points, but without language and letters there can be no progress in

civilization.”

I take note of a curious little incident, which shows how exceedingly

bitter this animosity of races has become. The Tscheks of Vienna, who

number about 30,000 requested a grant from the town council to assist

them to found a school, where the instruction would be given in their

language. The Rector of the University of that city spoke in favor

of this request at the meeting of the council. The students of the

Tschek University of Prague, apprised of this, forwarded him a vote

of thanks; but in what language? Not in Tschek, the Rector would not

have understood a word; nor in German the language of the oppressors;

in French, as being a foreign idiom and neutral everywhere. The

vote—certainly very justifiable—of the Rector in favor of a Tschek

school in Vienna, was so highly disapproved of by his colleagues that

he was forced to resign his post.

I go next to see Baron von Neumann, one of the pillars of our Institute

of International Law. Besides his vast legal knowledge he possesses

the precious faculty of speaking all European languages with equal

facility, and has also at his disposal a treasure of quotations

from the most varied literature. In the different towns in which

the Institute has met, he has replied to the authorities appointed

to receive us in their own language, and generally as fluently as a

native. Baron Neumann takes me to the University of which he is one

of the chief ornaments. It is situated quite near the Cathedral,

and is a very ancient building, which will shortly be abandoned for

the sumptuous edifice in course of construction on the Ring. I am

introduced to Professor Lorenz von Stein, author of the best work that

has ever been written on Socialism, “Der Socialismus in Frankreich,”

and also several works on public law and political economy, which are

very highly considered in Germany. I am also very pleased to make the

acquaintance of my youthful colleague M. Schleinitz, who has just

published an important work on the development of landed property.

Baron Neumann transmits me a letter from Baron Kállay, the Financial

Minister, appointing an interview with me before I leave; but I see

first M. de Serres, the director of the Austrian railways, who will be

able to give me some details as to the connection between the Hungarian

and Servian and the Ottoman lines: a question of the very first

importance for the future of the East, and which I have promised myself

to study.

The Austrian Railway Companies’ offices are in a palace on the Place

Schwarzenberg, the finest part of the Ring. Their interior arrangements

are quite in keeping with the outside appearance. Immense white marble

staircases, spacious and comfortable offices, and the furniture in

the reception-rooms all velvet and gold. What a contrast between this

modern luxury and the simplicity of the Ministerial offices! It is

the symbol of a serious economic revolution. Industry takes priority

of politics. M. de Serres spreads out a map of the railway system on

the table. “See,” he says, “this is the direct line from Pesth to

Belgrade; it crosses the Danube at Peterwardein and the Save at Semlin;

it was necessary therefore to construct two immense bridges, the

piles of which have been constructed by the Fives-Lille Company. The

Belgrade-Nisch section will be very soon inaugurated. At Nisch there

will be a bifurcation of two lines, one continues to Sofia and the

other, branching off, joins the Salonica-Nitrovitza branch at Uskub or

at Varosch. The line is to run along the Upper Morava by Lescovatz and

Vraina. The latter town can then be easily connected with Varosch on

the Salonica line, the distance between these two places being quite

trifling. This branch line, which will be quickly terminated, is of

capital importance. It will be the nearest route to Athens, and even to

Egypt and the extreme East; and will ultimately, in all probability,

beat not only Marseilles but Brindisi. The other section of the line,

from Nisch to Sofia and Constantinople, presents great difficulties.

In the first place, the Pass through which the Nischava flows before

reaching Pirot is so wild, narrow, and savage, as to challenge the

skill of our engineers. Then, after leaving Pirot, the line must rise

over some of the last heights of the Balkans to reach the plain of

Sofia; the rocks here, too, are very bad. Beyond, on the high plateau,

there will be no difficulty, and a line was half completed by the

Turks ten years ago, between Sofia and Sarambay (the terminus of their

system); fifteen or sixteen months would suffice to finish it. To be

brief, this year we shall be able to go by rail all through Servia

as far as Nisch. A year later, if no time be lost, we shall reach

Salonica, and, two years afterwards, Constantinople.”

I thanked M. de Serres for all these interesting details. “The

completion of these lines,” I said, “will be an event of capital

interest for the Eastern world. It will be the signal for an economic

transformation far otherwise important than political combinations, and

will hasten the accomplishment of an inevitable result—the development

and the supremacy of the dominant races. Your Austrian railways and

Hungary will be the first to benefit, but very soon the whole of Europe

will share the advantages which will accrue from the civilization of

the Balkan peninsula.”

I call after this on Baron Kállay. I am very pleased to have an

opportunity of seeing him, for I am told on all sides that he is

one of the most distinguished statesmen of the empire. He is a pure

Magyar, descended from one of Arpad’s companions, who came to Hungary

towards the close of the ninth century. They must have been a careful

and thrifty family, for they have been successful in retaining their

fortune, an excellent precedent for a Financial Minister! When quite

young, Kállay displayed an extraordinary taste for learning, and he was

anxious to know everything; he worked very hard at the Slav and Eastern

languages, and translated Stuart Mill’s “Liberty” into Magyar, and for

his literary labor he obtained the honor of being nominated a member of

the Hungarian Academy.

Having failed to be elected deputy in 1866, he was appointed

Consul-General at Belgrade, which post he held for eight years. This

period was not lost to science, for he spent it in collecting matter

for a history of Servia. In 1874 he was elected deputy in the Hungarian

Diet and took his place on the Conservative benches, now the Moderate

Left. He started a newspaper, the _Kelet Nepe_ (The People of the

East), in which he depicted the part Hungary ought to play in Eastern

Europe.

It will be remembered that when the Turko-Prussian war broke out,

followed by the occupation of Bosnia in 1876, the Magyars were most

vehement in their manifestations of sympathy with the Turks, and

the opposition was most violent in attacking the occupation. The

Hungarians were so bitterly hostile to this movement, because they

thought it would be productive of an increase in the number of the Slav

inhabitants in the Empire. Even the Government party was so convinced

of the unpopularity of Andrassy’s policy that they durst not openly

support it. Just at this time, Kállay took upon himself to defend it

in the House. He told his party that it was senseless to favor the

Turkish cause. He proved clearly that the occupation of Bosnia was a

necessity, even from a Hungarian point of view; because this State

forms a corner separating Servia from Montenegro, and thus being in the

hands of Austria-Hungary, prevents the formation of an important Slave

State which might exercise an irresistible attraction on the Croatians,

who are of the same race and speak the same language. He explained

his favorite projects, and spoke of the commercial and civilizing

mission of Hungary in the East. This attitude of a man who knew the

Balkan peninsula by heart and had deeply studied all the questions

referring to it, was most irritating to many members of his party, who

continued for some little time Turcophile; but the speech produced a

profound impression on the nation in general, and public opinion was

considerably modified. Baron Kállay was designated by Count Andrassy as

the Austrian representative in the Commission on Roumelian affairs, and,

on his return to Vienna, he was appointed chief of a section in the

Foreign Office. He published his history of Servia in Hungarian; it has

since been translated into German and Servian, and, even at Belgrade,

it was admitted to be the best that exists. He also published, about

this time, an important pamphlet in German and Hungarian, on the

aspirations of Russia in the East during the past three centuries.

Under the Chancellor Haymerlé he became Secretary of State, and his

authority increased rapidly. Count Szlavy, formerly Hungarian Minister,

a very capable man, but with little acquaintance with the countries

beyond the Danube, was then Financial Minister; and, as such, was the

sole administrator of Bosnia. The occupation was a total failure. It

entailed immense expense, the taxes were not paid into the exchequer,

it was said that the money was detained by the Government officials

as during the reign of the Turks, and both the Trans-Leithanian and

Cis-Leithanian Parliaments showed signs of discontent. Szlavy resigned

his post. The Emperor very rightly thinks an immense deal of Bosnia. It

is his hobby, his special interest. During his reign Venetian Lombardy

has been lost, and his kingdom, consequently, diminished. Bosnia is a

compensation for this, and possesses the great advantage of adjoining

Croatia, so that it could easily be absorbed into the empire; whereas,

with the Italian provinces, this was totally impossible. The Emperor

then looked around him for the man capable of setting Bosnian affairs

in order, and at once selected Kállay, who was appointed to replace

Szlavy.

The first act of the new Minister was personally to visit the occupied

province of which he speaks all the varied dialects, and to converse

with the Catholics, Orthodox and Mahommedans there. He thus succeeded

in reassuring Turkish landholders, in encouraging the peasantry to

patience, in reforming abuses and turning the thieves out of the

temple. Expenses became at once reduced and the deficit diminished, but

the undertaking might well be compared to the cleansing of the Augean

stables. Baron Kállay employed great tact and consideration, coupled

with relentless firmness. To be able to set a clock in thorough order

it is necessary to be perfectly acquainted with its mechanism. Last

year he was warned that a tiny cloud was appearing in Montenegro. A

fresh insurrection was dreaded. He started at once to ascertain the

exact position of affairs for himself, and he took his wife with

him to give his visit a non-official character. Lady Kállay is as

intelligent as she is beautiful, and as courageous as intelligent;

this latter is indeed a family quality: Countess Bethlen, she is

descended from the hero of Transylvania, Bethlen Gabor. Their journey

through Bosnia would form the subject of a poem. While on his way from

ovation to ovation, he succeeded in stamping out the lighted wick

which was about to set fire to the powder. Since then, it appears,

matters there have continued to improve; at all events, the deficit

has disappeared, the Emperor is delighted, and every one tells me

that if Austria succeed in retaining Bosnia she will certainly owe

it to Kállay, and that a most important _rôle_ is assuredly reserved

for him in the future administration of the empire. He believes in a

great destiny for Hungary, but he is by no means an ultra-Magyar. He

is prudent, thoughtful, and is well aware of the quagmires by the way.

His Eastern experience is of great service to him. I call on him at his

offices, in a little narrow street and on the second floor. The wooden

staircase is dark and narrow. I cannot help comparing it in my mind to

the magnificent palace of the Railway Company, and I must confess my

preference for this. I am astonished to find him so young; he is but

forty-three years old. The old empire used to be governed by old men,

but this is no longer the case. Youth has now the upper hand, and is

responsible, doubtless, for the present firm and decisive policy of

Austria-Hungary. The Hungarians hold the reins, and their blood has

preserved the ardor and decision of youthful people. It seemed to me

that I breathed in Austria an air of revival.

Baron Kállay spoke to me first of the Zadrugas, the family communities

which existed everywhere in India, as has so well been shown by Sir

Henry Maine. “Since you published your book on Primitive Property”

(which was, he says, at the time perfectly accurate), “many changes

have taken place—the patriarchal family living on its collective and

unalienable domain is rapidly disappearing. I regret this quite as much

as you can do, but what can be done?”

Speaking of Bosnia, “We are blamed,” he says, “for not having yet

settled the agrarian question there, but Ireland is sufficient proof

of the difficulties to be met with in solving such problems. In Bosnia

these are further complicated by the conflict between the Mussulman

and our Western laws. One must be on the spot and study these vexed

questions there, fully to realize the hindrances to be met with at

every step. For instance, the Turkish law constitutes the State the

owner of all forests, and I am especially desirous of retaining rights

on these for the purpose of preserving them; on the other hand, in

accordance with a Slav custom, the villagers claim certain rights on

the forests. If they merely cut the wood they needed for household

purposes, only slight harm would be done; but they ruthlessly cut

down trees, and then turn in their goats to eat and destroy the young

shoots, so that there is never any chance of the old trees being

replaced. These wretched animals are the plague of the country.

Wherever they manage to penetrate, nothing is to be found but brushwood.

“As the preservation of these woods is of the first necessity in so

mountainous a region we intend to pass a law to this end, but the

difficulty will be to enforce it. It would almost necessitate an army

of keepers and constant struggles in every direction. What is really

lacking in this fine country so favored by Nature is a _gentry_ who

would set an example of agricultural progress, as in Hungary. I will

give you an example in proof of this. As a boy I remember that a very

heavy old-fashioned plough was used on our land. In 1848, compulsory

labor was abolished, wages increased, and we had to cultivate

ourselves. We at once sent for the most perfected American iron

ploughs, and at the present day these alone are employed even by the

peasants. Austria has a great mission to fulfil in Bosnia, which will

in all probability benefit general Europe even more than ourselves. She

must, by civilizing the country, justify her occupation of it.”

“For myself,” I replied, “I have always maintained, in opposition to

my friends the English Liberals, that the annexation of Bosnia and

Herzegovina to Dalmatia was a necessity, and I fully explained this at

a period when the question was not at all under discussion,[7] but the

essential point of all is the making of a railway and roads to connect

the interior with the ports on the coast. The Serayevo-Mortar line is

absolutely a necessity.”

“I am quite of your opinion,” answers Baron Kállay, “_ma i danari_, all

cannot be done in a day. We have but just completed the Brod-Serayevo

line, which takes passengers in a day from Vienna to the centre of

Bosnia. It is one of the first boons conferred by the occupation, and

its consequences will be almost measureless.”

I refer to a speech he has recently pronounced at the Academy of Pesth.

In it he develops his favorite subject, the great mission Hungary is

destined to fulfil in the future; being connected with the East through

the Magyars and with the West through her ideas and institutions, she

must be a link between the Eastern and Western worlds. This theory

provoked a complete overflow of attacks against Magyar pride from all

the German and Slav papers. “These Hungarians,” they said, “imagine

themselves to be the centre of the universe and their Hungaria, the

entire world, _Ungarischer Globus_. Let them return to their steppes,

these Asiatics, these Tartars, these first cousins of the Turks.” In

the midst of all this vehemence, I am reminded of a little quotation

from a book of Count Zays, which most accurately paints the ardent

patriotism of the Hungarians at once, their honor and strength, but

which develops a spirit of domination and makes them detested by other

races. The quotation is as follows: “The Magyar loves his country and

his nationality better than humanity, better than liberty, better than

himself, better even than God and his eternal salvation.” Kállay’s high

intelligence prevents his falling into this exaggerated Chauvinism.

“No one understood me,” he says, “and no one chose to understand. I

was not talking politics. I had no desire to do so in our Academy at

a scientific and literary meeting. I simply announced an undeniable

fact. Situated at the point of junction of a series of different races

and for the very reason that we speak a non-Indo-Germanic idiom—call

it even Asiatic, if you will—we are compelled to be acquainted with

all the languages of Western Europe. Our institutions, our educational

systems, belong to the Western world. At the same time, by some

mysterious connection with our blood, Eastern dialects are very easily

accessible and comprehensible to us. I have over and over again

remarked that I can grasp much more clearly the meaning of an Eastern

manuscript or document by translating it into Magyar, than if I read a

German or English translation of it.”

The “Ring,” and how this splendid boulevard has been made, is certainly

a question worthy of an economist’s inquiries. What changes since 1846!

At that period, from the heights of the old ramparts that had sustained

the famous siege of 1683, one could obtain a panorama of the entire

city, with its extensive faubourgs separated from the centre by a

dusty esplanade where the Hungarian regiments, with their tight blue

trousers, drilled every evening. The Volksgarten, where Strauss played

his waltzes, and the Grecian temple with Canova’s statue, have been

left intact; but a boulevard twice as wide as those in Paris runs along

the entire length; ample space has been reserved for the erection

of public monuments and the remainder of the land sold at enormous

prices. The State and the town have constructed public edifices vying

with each other in magnificence; two splendid theatres, a town hall,

which will certainly cost fifty million francs; a palace for the

university, two museums, and a House of Parliament for the Reichsrath.

All around the Ring in addition to the buildings just mentioned, are

Archdukes’ palaces, immense hotels, and private residences, which,

from their grand proportions and the richness of their decorations,

are monuments themselves. I know of nothing comparable to the Ring in

any other capital. Where did Austria find the necessary funds for all

these constructions? The State and the town made a most successful

speculation: the price paid to them for the ground on the esplanade

almost covered all their expenses, but the purchasers of that ground

and the constructions placed upon it—who paid for all that? The

hundreds of millions of francs represented by this land and by the

public buildings and private dwellings on it, all that must spring from

the savings of the country. This affords a clear proof that in spite of

the unfortunate wars, the loss of Venetian Lombardy and the Krach of

1873, in spite also of home difficulties and the persistent deficit,

continuing from year to year, Austria has become much wealthier.

The State is a beggar, but the nation has accumulated capital which

expands itself in all these splendors of the Ring. As on the banks of

the Rhine, all this is due to machinery. As man can with his new and

powerful tools procure nourishment and clothing for a less sum, he can

devote a larger portion of his revenue and labor to his board, his

pleasures, to art and various institutions.

All that I succeeded in ascertaining in Vienna with respect to the

present situation of Bosnia served to confirm the views I already

entertained as to that country. The interests of civilization, and

especially those of the Southern Slavs, command our approval of this

occupation. We arrive at this conclusion by an argument which appears

to me irrefutable. Was it, yes or no, of importance that Bosnia should

be freed from the Turkish yoke? No friend of humanity in general and of

the Slavs can answer this question otherwise than in the affirmative.

Who then is to carry out this freedom? Russia is not to be thought of.

The forming of Bosnia into an independent State would be still worse,

for it would be simply delivering up the rayas without the slightest

defence to the Mussulman Begs. The most tempting plan seemed to be to

unite it to Servia, but in that case Bosnia would have been separated

from its neighbor Dalmatia, and the Servian Government would have

been compelled to undertake the difficult task of keeping its ancient

enemies, the Mussulman Bosniacs, in check. The only other solution was

the present one. Austria-Hungary can neither Magyarize nor Germanize

Bosnia. She brings it safety, order, education and roads; or, in

other words, the elements of modern civilization. Is not this all the

Slavophils can possibly desire? Thus will be formed a new nation,

which will grow up side by side with Croatia and Dalmatia, fortifying

these two countries as it develops, and serving at the same time as a

connecting link between them.—_Contemporary Review._