THE PRINCE OF WIED
The Powers of Europe decided that Albania should be constituted an
independent kingdom, and a king chosen from among the European princes.
The new ruler was to belong to some family that had possessed sovereign
rights in the past, and this limited the choice very much. He was to
come to his new home with all the lustre lent by the acknowledgment
of his fellow rulers to one of equal birth. Many candidates, more or
less suitable, were ready to accept the throne. Europe discussed their
relative merits. The only people who had no voice at all in the matter
were the Albanians themselves. They naturally did not want a sovereign
chosen by the Powers, but one selected by themselves. They frankly said
a complete stranger should be chosen, as the Roman Catholic tribes
would not acknowledge the domination of a Mohammedan; the Mohammedans
would object to the chief of one of the Christian tribes; and the
Greeks would submit to neither. Europe knew full well that the task
of civilising the nation would be no easy one, and it was generally
thought that the life of the new king would not be worth a month’s
purchase. Some of the malcontents were certain to attempt his life,
almost as certain to succeed in killing him. Other people said that
the task of ruling over Albania need not be more difficult than that
of civilising Rumania or Bulgaria, and that it was only a question of
finding the right man. Unfortunately, the Powers did not act loyally
towards the new country. They made no attempt to study the interests of
the population, but sought a ruler whose selection should provoke the
minimum of objection from the other Powers. Germany wanted to place a
German prince on the throne. Italy naturally objected to any man who
would be a mere puppet in the hands of Austria or Germany. Austria
objected to any Italian candidates. Finally the Powers agreed to accept
a prince of irreproachable reputation and sprung from a very old
family, but utterly devoid of brains. The Prince von Wied was selected
for his lack of any prominent characteristics. The new prince had the
outward appearance of a monarch, being extremely tall and handsome,
while his reputation as a military man left nothing to be desired.
Nothing had ever been heard of him outside or indeed inside Germany,
and the news was soon circulated in the inner circles of diplomacy that
he had simply been selected as a figure-head. It was never expected
that he would accomplish anything in any way. He had spent his life in
German military circles and was the “ideal officer.” Like most of his
brethren in arms, he was empty-headed, possessed of an intelligence
below the average, and spent his time in looking after his estates.
This negative information was not unsatisfactory. The most important
fact about the prince was carefully concealed, however. He was deep
in debt. This was common among the young German officers, but whereas
their debts were limited by the fact that purveyors refused to trust
them, the Prince of Wied was heavily involved. The Albanians, who had
agents all over Europe, discovered his predicament. They considered
that a Balkan king must possess a fortune of his own, as they did not
wish to pay a large civil list. All the Balkan princes who had come as
strangers into the land brought riches and not debts with them. This
gave them weight, not only among their peers, but also among their
subjects. A prince or king cannot be a pauper. Quite apart from minor
considerations, his monetary difficulties would make him venial. The
Albanians, accustomed to bribery and to rulers of very questionable
morality, openly voiced this objection. They had no opinion of German
or any other probity when exposed to temptation. The Italians in
Albania, who had hoped for an Italian duke to forward their interests,
did their best to exaggerate the financial straits of the Prince von
Wied. While many stories about his poverty were heard, nothing was
said about the family estates, which had been sufficient guarantee
for the moneylenders. The moneylenders, who were ready to trust the
Prince of Wied indefinitely, refused however to leave their money
with a Balkan prince; that was a different matter. Jokes were heard
in the cafés about the “pauper king” and Europe’s appointment of a
“beggar sovereign.” The Servians, whose kings were poor but honest,
openly derided the new importation. All these reports spread throughout
Albania like wildfire. It is remarkable that news is circulated much
more quickly in Albania than in civilised countries. It is always
the salient facts that are seized upon, unimportant details being
neglected in a manner peculiar to people who can neither read nor
write, and whose heads are therefore phenomenally clear. Descriptions
of the Prince, allusions to his martial figure, were good enough for
the German papers.
Albania did not heed them. She knew that she was to be governed by a
man who knew no word of the language, who brought no troops with him,
and who not only had no money but was deep in debt. It was not thus
that Albania pictured her king. She would even prefer to live under
the domination of one of the native princes, who would have been as
successful as the King of Montenegro in keeping his subjects in due
order. There were several of these men who could have mounted the
throne, and who would have known how to wield the sceptre. It did not
suit Europe to create an independent Albania, however. Neither Italy
nor Austria really wished the new venture to be a success, as they
desired to share Albania, dividing it into two spheres of influence.
Prince von Wied had one saving virtue--he was modest and had no
delusions on the subject of his capabilities. He hesitated greatly
before accepting the charge. Alone, he would never have assumed the
office thrust upon him. Unfortunately, he had a wife who was both
ambitious and lacking in intelligence. The Princess of Wied imagined
that the Albanians could be ruled by the introduction of the same
methods that impressed the intellectual circles in a German town.
She was accustomed to preside over a number of ladies, “seekers of
culture,” and thought that she could exercise a similar influence over
the Albanians. Neither she nor her husband realised that, when they
left Germany for Albania, they were stepping right out of the twentieth
century into the tenth. They both imagined that the Albanians would
be impressed by the antique furniture which they sent on in advance
to furnish the villa at Durazzo, not realising that the Albanians,
accustomed to all the pomp of the Turkish pasha, simply regarded their
“antiques” as a collection of quaint-looking lumber. The Albanians were
correct in their estimate, for the objects which Princess von Wied
considered so valuable were seen to be mere rubbish by the connoisseur.
The Vienna furnishers who came down to arrange for the arrival of the
new Prince, were horrified at the condition in which they found the
palace. It was built, like all Albanian houses, as a kind of fortress.
There were no windows at all on the lower floors. Loopholes, from
which the muzzles of guns projected, served instead of windows. Large
apertures were too dangerous in a country inhabited by natives who were
in the habit of potting-at the occupants of rooms on the ground floor.
Inside the immense barn-like house the Vienna furnishers found vermin
of all sorts. This is common in Albania, but the state of the palace
was such that it should have warned them that the coming Prince was not
popular, for they might have known that the rats had been introduced
into the apartments as a protest. The rat-holes were hastily stopped
up with cement, the mildewed walls were draped with costly hangings,
but the workmen who were taken down for the job felt that it was no
place either for a lady or children, and said so freely. Although they
could not speak the Albanian language, they felt the antipathy of the
natives. They were aware of the opposition that showed itself in a
hundred different ways, too small to particularise, but all of which
revealed dangers and difficulties for the new monarch.
[Illustration: THE PRINCE OF WIED.]
The Prince made a round of the chief Courts of Europe, before reaching
his new country. His fellow sovereigns were willing to do all they
could to give him a good “send-off,” and he was fêted everywhere.
Diplomatists, accustomed to judging men, thought very poorly of his
chances of success. He had numberless opportunities of finding out
something about his future subjects. Men fresh from the Balkans were
invited to meet him, but he did not care to avail himself of their
information. Neither did he consult any statesmen of experience as to
how he should act in any given circumstances; he appeared to think that
he would know all this by instinct when once he had assumed the crown.
Thus those accustomed to the cares of State watched the new man depart
with strong misgivings.
The manner of his arrival was the initial mistake. He slipped into
his new kingdom almost unannounced. He sneaked into the country like
a political refugee who wishes to avoid the notice of the police. A
handful of Albanians, gathered together at the last moment, shouted
“Hurrah!” when he appeared, but even their enthusiasm was purchased,
and not having been paid for on the usual scale, was correspondingly
feeble and ineffectual. After making this unfortunate entry, the
Prince settled down to do--nothing. The Albanians had learnt that
the money given by the Powers for the administration of Albania had
been applied to pay the Prince’s private debts, as the creditors had
refused to allow him to leave Germany with his obligations unsettled;
and they refused to welcome him. The Princess decorated her house,
and attended to the furnishing of rooms for her children. She, at
least, was delighted at the chance of being able to play at being a
real Princess. The Prince himself was less contented. He was doubtful
of the intentions of Essad Pasha, and confused by the different
instructions he had received. Kaiser Wilhelm had promised to stand by
him in his usual “shining armour” fashion, if he did exactly as the
German envoy suggested. The Prince, however, was shrewd enough to see
that German influence was of little value in the Balkans. Italy was
evidently the dominant Power in Albania. Her agents had spent money
freely. The Prince had reason to believe that Austria and Germany had
also made large expenditures on the glorious work of colonisation, but
he failed to observe the fruits. The younger generation of Albanians
spoke Italian, which was taught in the schools. Proficiency in Italian
was necessary for all who engaged in commerce and trade, as all the
coasting business was with Italy. Although attempts had been made
to establish schools where instruction was imparted in German, they
refused to attend them and were very averse to adopting German habits
or customs. While the Prince spent his time in avoiding complications,
by remaining within the palace, the Princess conferred with Viennese
decorators about the furnishing. This naturally prejudiced the local
workmen, and showed that she had not any grasp of the first duties of
a ruling princess. Shortly after the arrival of the new Royal family,
news was received that Albanian insurgents were advancing upon the
capital. No one knew what they wanted. It is doubtful whether they
knew themselves. They were aware that there was loot to be had in
the palace. Perhaps that was the secret of then coming. The Prince,
who had insisted upon two warships being stationed off Durazzo, now
telegraphed for aid. More ships were sent. The Powers regarded this as
unnecessary--Durazzo is situated at the farther end of a peninsula. The
only path between Durazzo and the mainland is over a bottomless morass.
The insurgents could only approach the place in single file and the
approach to the palace could be swept by the cannon on the warships.
The Albanian insurgents might attempt a surprise attack, but all
through the night searchlights swept the narrow neck of land that led
to Durazzo.
The Prince was afraid of the unknown. Away from drill books and
civilisation, he was quite helpless. It was at this critical moment
that one of the cleverest diplomatists in Europe--the Italian Minister,
Alliotto--who had been sent to Albania with a watching brief, played
his trump card. When the danger seemed worst, he persuaded the Prince
to flee. The “modern knight,” the representative of up-to-date chivalry
as practised in the Guards in Berlin, actually fled from his new
country and took refuge on the battleship. After several hours’ stay
on the ship nothing happened, and he realised that he had been fooled
by the astute diplomatist. The palace was not looted, could never have
been looted, with the guns from the warships turned upon the twisting
path across the marshes. No single Albanian insurgent could reach the
spot. He left his wife and children in safety, and returned to the
capital he had left, to resume a crown as one resumes an umbrella laid
down at the club. He was received with derision. All Europe had got
news of his flight. The Italian diplomatist had taken care of that.
Photographs were taken on the spot. They showed the Prince leaving the
palace in a panic and getting into the ship’s boat, and afterwards
climbing up the side of the ship. They were circulated through the
European Press. Pictures of the palace, and of the small groups of
tatterdemalions who had forced a German Prince and military expert to
abdicate, were sown broadcast. Europe did not know that a swift little
Italian boat had been waiting for weeks to carry away the news. The
Italians knew that Germany and Austria would contradict the news of the
Prince’s flight. So they said: “Photographs cannot be contradicted. Let
us have plenty.”
The Prince was the laughing-stock of Europe. He was forced to abdicate.
Even the Kaiser felt he could not advise him to remain on the throne
after the painful incident. He did not even dare to return to Germany,
but spent months in Italy, travelling, before he cared to face the
music at Berlin. Germany and Austria had played against Italy for
diplomatic supremacy in Albania. Italy had won all along the line. Not
only had she succeeded in disgracing the German princelet, she had
attained her own object, too--lowering Austrian prestige in the Balkans
and raising her own.