AUSTRIA’S AWAKENING
“Entrance to these barracks is forbidden.” Sentries stood there to
enforce the new regulation. What did it mean? The steady tramping of
troops had been heard all night. It was not the irregular tread of
Austrians or Hungarians, who walk rather than march. The new troops
kept step; they moved with the precision of machinery. In a wineshop
round the corner from the barracks old Viennese burghers were sitting,
and although it was only 9 a.m. they were taking their mid-morning
lunch. They ate their rye bread and salami, washed down by white wine
from the vineyards on the mountains round the city, which rivalled
champagne in taste. Slowly and deliberately they discussed recent
events. Prussian troops had come on in the night. Vienna was under
German rule.
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.
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD., BRUNSWICK STREET,
STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation
marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left
unbalanced.
Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs
and outside quotations. In versions of this eBook that support
hyperlinks, the page references in the List of Illustrations lead to
the corresponding illustrations.