ROUMANIA
1
My appointment as ambassador to Bucharest in the autumn of 1913 came
as a complete surprise to me, and was much against my wishes. The
initiative in the matter came from the Archduke Franz Ferdinand. I had
never had any doubt that sooner or later the Archduke would take part
in politics, but it took me by surprise that he should do so in the
Emperor Francis Joseph's lifetime.
A great difference of opinion prevailed then in Vienna on the
Roumanian question, a pro-Roumanian spirit fighting against an
anti-Roumanian one. The head of the former party was the Archduke
Franz, and with him, though in less marked degree, was Berchtold.
Tisza was the leader on the other side, and carried with him almost
the entire Hungarian Parliament. The pro-Roumanians wished Roumania to
be more closely linked to the Monarchy; the others, to replace that
alliance by one with Bulgaria; but both were unanimous in seeking for
a clear knowledge of how matters stood with the alliance, and whether
we had a friend or a foe on the other side of the Carpathians. My
predecessor, Karl Fürstenberg, had sent in a very clear and correct
report on the subject, but he shared the fate of so many ambassadors:
his word was not believed.
The actual task assigned to me was, first of all to find out whether
this alliance was of any practical value, and if I thought not to
suggest ways and means of justifying its existence.
I must mention in this connection that my appointment as ambassador to
Bucharest had raised a perfect storm in the Hungarian Parliament. The
reason for this widely spread indignation in Hungary at my selection
for the post was owing to a pamphlet I had written some years
previously, in which I certainly had attacked the Magyar policy
somewhat vehemently. I maintained the standpoint that a policy of
suppression of the nations was not tenable in the long run, and that
no future was in store for Hungary unless she definitely abolished
that policy and allowed the nations equal rights. This pamphlet gave
serious displeasure in Budapest, and representatives in the Hungarian
Parliament were afraid I should introduce that policy in Roumania,
which, following the spirit of the pamphlet, was directed against the
official policy of Vienna and Budapest. It was at this period that I
made Tisza's acquaintance. I had a long and very frank conversation
with him on the whole subject, and explained to him that I must uphold
the standpoint I put forward in my pamphlet, as it tallied with my
convictions, but that I clearly saw that from the moment I accepted
the post of ambassador I was bound to consider myself as a part of the
great state machinery, and loyally support the policy emanating from
the Ballplatz. I still maintain that my standpoint is perfectly
justifiable. A unified policy would be utterly impossible if every
subordinate official were to publish his own views, whether right or
wrong, and I for my part would never, as Minister, have tolerated an
ambassador who attempted to pursue an independent policy of his own.
Tisza begged me to give my word of honour that I would make no attempt
to introduce a policy opposed to that of Vienna and Budapest, to which
I readily agreed, provided that the Archduke was agreeable to such
decision. I then had a conversation with the latter, and found that he
quite agreed with my action, his argument being that as long as he was
the heir to the throne he would never attempt to introduce a policy
opposed to that of the Emperor; consequently he would not expect it
from me either. But should he come to the throne he would certainly
make an effort to carry out his own views, in which case I should no
longer be at Bucharest, but probably in some post where I would be in
a position to support his efforts. The Archduke begged me for the sake
of my friendship for him to accept the post, which I finally decided
to do after I obtained a promise from Berchtold that, at the end of
two years as the longest term, he would put no obstacle in the way of
my retirement.
The Archduke Franz drew his pro-Roumanian proclivities from a very
unreliable source. He hardly knew Roumania at all. So far as I know,
he had only once been in the country, and paid a short visit to King
Carol at Sinaia; but the friendly welcome accorded to himself and his
wife by the old King and Queen entirely took his warm heart by storm,
and he mistook King Carol for Roumania. This is again a proof how
greatly the individual relations of great personalities can influence
the policy of nations. The royal couple met the Archduke at the
station; the Queen embraced and kissed the duchess and, placing her at
her right side, drove with her to the castle. In short, it was the
first time that the Duchess of Hohenberg had been treated as enjoying
equal privileges with her husband. During his short stay in Roumania
the Archduke had the pleasure of seeing his wife treated as his equal
and not as a person of slight importance, always relegated to the
background. At the court balls in Vienna the duchess was always
obliged to walk behind all the archduchesses, and never had any
gentleman allotted to her whose arm she could take. In Roumania she
was _his wife_, and etiquette was not concerned with her birth. The
Archduke valued this proof of friendly tactfulness on the part of the
King very highly, and always afterwards Roumania, in his eyes, was
endowed with a special charm. Besides which he very correctly
estimated that a change in certain political relations would effect a
closer alliance between Roumania and ourselves. He felt, rather than
knew, that the Transylvanian question lay like a huge obstacle between
Vienna and Bucharest, and that this obstacle once removed would alter
the entire situation.
To find out the real condition of the alliance was my first task, and
it was not difficult, as the first lengthy conferences I had with King
Carol left no doubt in my mind that the old King himself considered
the alliance very unsafe. King Carol was an exceptionally clever man,
very cautious and deliberate, and it was not easy to make him talk if
he intended to be silent. The question of the vitality of the alliance
was settled by my suggesting to the King that the alliance should
receive pragmatic sanction, i.e. be ratified by the Parliaments at
Vienna, Budapest, and Bucharest. The alarm evinced by the King at the
suggestion, the very idea that the carefully guarded secret of the
existence of an alliance should be divulged, proved to me how totally
impossible it would be, in the circumstances, to infuse fresh life
into such dead matter.
My reports sent to the Ballplatz leave no doubt that I answered this
first question by declaring in categorical fashion that the alliance
with Roumania was, under the existing conditions, nothing but a scrap
of paper.
The second question, as to whether there were ways and means of
restoring vitality to the alliance, and what they were, was
theoretically just as easy to answer as difficult to carry out in
practice. As already mentioned, the real obstacle in the way of closer
relations between Bucharest and Vienna was the question of Great
Roumania; in other words, the Roumanian desire for national union with
her "brothers in Transylvania." This was naturally quite opposed to
the Hungarian standpoint. It is interesting, as well as characteristic
of the then situation, that shortly after my taking up office in
Roumania, Nikolai Filippescu (known later as a war fanatic) proposed
that Roumania should join with Transylvania and the whole of united
Great Roumania enter into relations with the Monarchy similar to the
relation of Bavaria to the German Empire. I admit that I welcomed the
idea warmly, for if it were launched by a party which justly was held
to be antagonistic to the Monarchy there can be no doubt that the
moderate element in Roumania would have accepted it with still greater
satisfaction. I still believe that had this plan been carried out it
would have led to a real linking of Roumania to the Monarchy, that the
notification would have met with no opposition, and consequently the
outbreak of war would have found us very differently situated.
Unfortunately the plan failed at its very first stage owing to
Tisza's strong and obstinate resistance. The Emperor Francis Joseph
held the same standpoint as Tisza, and it was out of the question to
achieve anything by arguing. On the other hand, nobody had any idea
then that the great war, and with it the testing of the alliance, was
so imminent, and I consoled myself for my unsuccessful efforts in the
firm hope that this grand plan, as it seemed to me both then and now,
would be realised one day under the Archduke Franz Ferdinand.
When I arrived in Roumania a change was proceeding in the Government.
Majorescu's Conservative Ministry gave way to the Liberal Ministry of
Bratianu. King Carol's policy of government was very peculiar. From
the very first his principle was never to proceed with violence or
even much energy against injurious tendencies in his own country; but,
on the contrary, always to yield to the numerous claims made by
extortioners. He knew his people thoroughly, and knew that both
parties, Conservatives and Liberals, must alternately have access to
the manger until thoroughly satisfied and ready to make room the one
for the other. Almost every change in the Government was accomplished
in that manner: the Opposition, desirous of coming into power, began
with threats and hints at revolution. Some highly unreasonable claim
would be put forward and vehemently insisted upon and the people
incited to follow it up; the Government would retire, unable to accede
to the demands, and the Opposition, once in power, would show no
further signs of keeping their promise. The old King was well versed
in the game; he allowed the opposition tide to rise to the highest
possible limit, when he effected the necessary change of individuals
and looked on until the game began again. It is the custom in
Roumania, when a new party comes into power, to change the whole
personnel, even down to the lowest officials. This arrangement,
obviously, has its drawbacks, though on the other hand it cannot be
denied that it is a practical one.
In this manner the Bratianu Ministry came into office in 1913.
Majorescu's Government gave entire satisfaction to the King and the
moderate elements in the country. In the eyes of the Roumanians he had
just achieved a great diplomatic success by the Peace of Bucharest and
the acquisition of the Dobrudsha, when Bratianu came forward with a
demand for vast agrarian reforms. These reforms are one of the
hobby-horses of Roumanian policy which is always mounted when it is a
question of making use of the poor unfortunate peasants, and the
manoeuvre invariably succeeds, largely owing to the lack of
intelligence prevailing among the peasant population of Roumania, who
are constantly made the tools of one or other party, and simply pushed
on one side when the object has been obtained. Bratianu also, once he
was in office, gave no thought to the fulfilment of his promises, but
calmly proceeded on the lines Majorescu had laid down in his time.
Still, it was more difficult to arrive at a satisfactory settlement in
foreign affairs with Bratianu than it had been with Majorescu, as the
former was thoroughly conversant with all West European matters, and
at the bottom of his heart was anti-German. One of the distinctions to
be made between Liberals and Conservatives was that the Liberals had
enjoyed a Parisian education: they spoke no German, only French; while
the Conservatives, taking Carp and Majorescu as models, were offshoots
of Berlin. As it was impossible to carry out the plan of firmly and
definitely linking Roumania to us by a change of Hungarian internal
policy, the idea naturally, almost automatically, arose to substitute
Bulgaria for Roumania. This idea, which found special favour with
Count Tisza, could be carried out, both because, since the Bucharest
peace of 1913, it was out of the question to bring Roumania and
Bulgaria under one roof, and because an alliance with Sofia would have
driven Roumania straight into the enemy camp. But Berchtold, as well
as the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, was opposed to this latter
eventuality, nor would the Emperor Francis Joseph have approved of
such proceedings. Hence no change was made; Roumania was not won, nor
was Bulgaria substituted for her, and they were content in Vienna to
leave everything to the future.
In a social sense the year that I spent in Roumania before the war was
not an unpleasant one. The relations of an Austrian-Hungarian
Ambassador with the court, as with the numerous _Bojars_, were
pleasant and friendly, and nobody could then have imagined what
torrents of hatred were so soon to be launched against the
Austro-Hungarian frontiers.
Social life became less pleasant during the war, as will be seen from
the following instance. There lived at Bucharest a certain
Lieut.-Colonel Prince Sturdza, who was a noted braggart and brawler
and an inveterate enemy of Austria-Hungary. I did not know him
personally, and there was no personal reason for him to begin one day
to abuse me publicly in the papers as being an advocate of the
Monarchy. I naturally took not the slightest notice of his article,
whereupon he addressed an open letter to me in the _Adeverul_, in
which he informed me that he would box my ears at the first
opportunity. I telegraphed to Berchtold and asked the Emperor's
permission to challenge this individual, as, being an officer, he was,
according to our ideas, entitled to satisfaction. The Emperor sent
word that it was out of the question for an ambassador to fight a duel
in the country to which he was accredited, and that I was to complain
to the Roumanian Government. I accordingly went to Bratianu, who
declared that he was totally unable to move in the matter. According
to the laws and regulations of the country it was impossible to
protect a foreign ambassador against such abuse. If Sturdza carried
out his threats he would be arrested. Until then nothing could be
done.
Upon this I assured Bratianu that if such were the case I would in
future arm myself with a revolver, and if he attacked me shoot the man;
if one lived in a country where the habits of the Wild West obtained,
one must act accordingly. I sent word to the lieutenant-colonel that
each day, at one o'clock, I could be found at the Hotel Boulevard,
where he would find a bullet awaiting him.
The next time I saw the Emperor Francis Joseph he asked for further
information concerning the episode, and I told him of my conversation
with Bratianu and of my firm intention to be my own helper. The
Emperor rejoined: "Naturally you cannot allow yourself to be beaten.
You are quite right; if he lays hands on you, shoot him."
I afterwards met Sturdza several times in restaurants and
drawing-rooms without his attempting to carry out his threats. This
man, whose nature was that of a daring adventurer, afterwards deserted
to the Russian army, and fought against us at a time when Roumania
still was neutral. I then completely lost sight of him.
The absolute freedom of the Press in the Balkan States, combined with
the brutality of the prevailing customs, produced the most varied
results, even going so far as abuse of their own kings. In this
connection King Carol gave me many drastic instances. While King
Ferdinand was still neutral, one of the comic papers contained a
picture of the King taking aim at a hare, while underneath were these
words, supposed to come from the hare: "My friend, you have long ears,
I have long ears; you are a coward, I am a coward. Wherefore would my
brother shoot me?"
On the day when war broke out this freedom of the Press was diverted
into a different channel and replaced by the severest control and
censorship.
Roumania is a land of contrasts, both as regards the landscape, the
climate, and social conditions. The mountainous north, with the
wonderful Carpathians, is one of the most beautiful districts. Then
there are the endless, unspeakably monotonous, but fertile plains of
Wallachia, leading into the valley of the Danube, which is a very
Paradise. In spring particularly, when the Danube each year overflows
its banks, the beauty of the landscape baffles description. It is
reminiscent of the tropics, with virgin forests standing in the water,
and islands covered with luxuriant growth scattered here and there. It
is an ideal country for the sportsman. All kinds of birds, herons,
ducks, pelicans, and others, are to be met with, besides wolves and
wild cats, and days may be spent in rowing and walking in this
Paradise without wearying of it.
The Roumanians usually care but little for sport, being averse to
physical exertion. Whenever they can they leave the country and spend
their time in Paris or on the Riviera. This love of travel is so
strong in them that a law was passed compelling them to spend a
certain portion of the year in their own country or else pay the
penalty of a higher tax. The country people, in their sad poverty,
form a great contrast to the enormously wealthy _Bojars_. Although
very backward in everything relating to culture, the Roumanian peasant
is a busy, quiet, and easily satisfied type, unpretentious to a
touching degree when compared with the upper classes.
Social conditions among the upper ten thousand have been greatly
complicated owing to the abolition of nobility, whereby the question
of titles plays a part unequalled anywhere else in the world. Almost
every Roumanian has a title derived from one or other source; he
values it highly, and takes it much amiss when a foreigner betrays his
ignorance on the subject. As a rule, it is safer to adopt the plan of
addressing everyone as "_Mon prince_." Another matter difficult for a
foreigner to grasp is the real status of Roumanian society, owing to
the incessant divorce and subsequent remarriages. Nearly every woman
has been divorced at least once and married again, the result being,
on the one hand, the most complicated questions of relationship, and,
on the other, so many breaches of personal relations as to make it the
most difficult task to invite twenty Roumanians, particularly ladies,
to dinner without giving offence in some quarter.
In the days of the old régime it was one of the duties of the younger
members of the Embassy to develop their budding diplomatic talents by
a clever compilation of the list for such a dinner and a wise
avoidance of any dangerous rock ahead. But as the question of rank in
Roumania is taken just as seriously as though it were authorised,
every lady claims to have first rank--the correct allotment of places
at a dinner is really a question for the most efficient diplomatic
capacities. There were about a dozen ladies in Bucharest who would
actually not accept an invitation unless they were quite sure the
place of honour would be given to them.
My predecessor cut the Gordian knot of these difficulties by arranging
to have dinner served at small separate tables, thus securing several
places of honour, but not even by these means could he satisfy the
ambition of all.
2
While at Sinaia I received the news of the assassination of the
Archduke from Bratianu. I was confined to bed, suffering from
influenza, when Bratianu telephoned to ask if I had heard that there
had been an accident to the Archduke's train in Bosnia, and that both
he and the duchess were killed. Soon after this first alarm came
further news, leaving no doubt as to the gravity of the catastrophe.
The first impression in Roumania was one of profound and sincere
sympathy and genuine consternation. Roumania never expected by means
of war to succeed in realising her national ambitions; she only
indulged in the hope that a friendly agreement with the Monarchy would
lead to the union of all Roumanians, and in that connection Bucharest
centred all its hopes in the Archduke and heir to the throne. His
death seemed to end the dream of a Greater Roumania, and the genuine
grief displayed in all circles in Roumania was the outcome of that
feeling. Take Jonescu, on learning the news while in my wife's
drawing-room, wept bitterly; and the condolences that I received were
not of the usual nature of such messages, but were expressions of the
most genuine sorrow. Poklewski, the Russian Ambassador, is said to
have remarked very brutally that there was no reason to make so much
out of the event, and the general indignation that his words aroused
proved how strong was the sympathy felt in the country for the
murdered Archduke.
When the ultimatum was made known the entire situation changed at
once. I never had any illusions respecting the Roumanian psychology,
and was quite clear in my own mind that the sincere regret at the
Archduke's death was due to egotistical motives and to the fear of
being compelled now to abandon the national ambition. The ultimatum
and the danger of war threatening on the horizon completely altered
the Roumanian attitude, and it was suddenly recognised that Roumania
could achieve its object by other means, not by peace, but by war--not
_with_, but _against_ the Monarchy. I would never have believed it
possible that such a rapid and total change could have occurred
practically within a few hours. Genuine and simulated indignation at
the tone of the ultimatum was the order of the day, and the universal
conclusion arrived at was: _L'Autriche est devenue folle._ Men and
women with whom I had been on a perfectly friendly footing for the
last year suddenly became bitter enemies. Everywhere I noticed a
mixture of indignation and growing eagerness to realise at last their
heart's dearest wish. The feeling in certain circles fluctuated for
some days. Roumanians had a great respect for Germany's military
power, and the year 1870 was still fresh in the memory of many of
them. When England, however, joined the ranks of our adversaries their
fears vanished, and from that moment it became obvious to the large
majority of the Roumanians that the realisation of their aspirations
was merely a question of time and of diplomatic efficiency. The wave
of hatred and lust of conquest that broke over us in the first stage
of the war was much stronger than in later stages, because the
Roumanians made the mistake we all have committed of reckoning on too
short a duration of the war, and therefore imagined the decision to be
nearer at hand than it actually was. After the great German successes
in the West, after Görlitz and the downfall of Serbia, certain
tendencies pointing to a policy of delay became noticeable among the
Roumanians. With the exception of Carp and his little group all were
more or less ready at the very first to fling themselves upon us.
Like a rock standing in the angry sea of hatred, poor old King Carol
was alone with his German sympathies. I had been instructed to read
the ultimatum to him the moment it was sent to Belgrade, and never
shall I forget the impression it made on the old King when he heard
it. He, wise old politician that he was, recognised at once the
immeasurable possibilities of such a step, and before I had finished
reading the document he interrupted me, exclaiming: "It will be a
world war." It was long before he could collect himself and begin to
devise ways and means by which a peaceful solution might still be
found. I may mention here that a short time previously the Tsar, with
Sassonoff, had been in Constanza for a meeting with the Roumanian
royal family. The day after the Tsar left I went to Constanza myself
to thank the King for having conferred the Grand Cross of one of the
Roumanian orders on me, obviously as a proof that the Russian visit
had not made him forget our alliance, and he gave me some interesting
details of the said visit. Most interesting of all was his account of
the conversations with the Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs. On
asking whether Sassonoff considered the situation in Europe to be as
safe as he (the King) did, Sassonoff answered in the affirmative,
"_pourvu que l'Autriche ne touche pas à la Serbie_." I at once, of
course, reported this momentous statement to Vienna; but neither by
the King nor by myself, nor yet in Vienna, was the train of thought
then fully understood. The relations between Serbia and the Monarchy
were at that time no worse than usual; indeed, they were rather
better, and there was not the slightest intention on our part to
injure the Serbians. But the suspicion that Sassonoff already then was
aware that the Serbians were planning something against us cannot be
got rid of.
When the King asked me whether I had reported Sassonoff's important
remark to Vienna, I replied that I had done so, and added that this
remark was another reason to make me believe that the assassination
was a crime long since prepared and carried out under Russian
patronage.
The crime that was enacted at Debruzin, which made such a sensation at
the time, gave rise to suspicions of a Russo-Roumanian attempt at
assassination.
On February 24, 1914, the Hungarian Correspondence Bureau published
the following piece of news:
A terrible explosion took place this morning in the official
premises of the newly-instituted Greek-Catholic Hungarian
bishopric, which are on the second floor of the Ministry of Trade
and Commerce in the Franz Deak Street. It occurred in the office
of the bishop's representative, the Vicar Michael Jaczkovics,
whose secretary, Johann Slapowszky, was also present in the room.
Both of them were blown to pieces. The Greek-Catholic bishop,
Stephan Miklossy, was in a neighbouring room, but had a most
marvellous escape. Alexander Csatth, advocate and solicitor to the
bishopric, who was in another room, was mortally wounded by the
explosion. In a third room the bishop's servant with his wife were
both killed. All the walls in the office premises fell in, and the
whole building is very much damaged. The explosion caused such a
panic in the house that all the inhabitants took flight and
vanished. All the windows of the neighbouring Town Hall in the
Verboczy Street were shattered by the concussion. Loose tiles were
hurled into the street and many passers-by were injured. The four
dead bodies and the wounded were taken to the hospital. The
bishop, greatly distressed, left the building and went to a
friend's house. The daughter of the Vicar Jaczkovics went out of
her mind on hearing of her father's tragic death. The cause of the
explosion has not yet been discovered.
I soon became involved in the affair when Hungary and Roumania began
mutually to blame one another as originators of the outrage. This led
to numerous interventions and adjustments, and my task was intensified
because a presumed accomplice of the murderer Catarau was arrested in
Bucharest, and his extradition to Hungary had to be effected by me.
This man, of the name of Mandazescu, was accused of having obtained a
false passport for Catarau.
Catarau, who was a Roumanian Russian from Bessarabia, vanished
completely after the murder and left no trace. News came, now from
Serbia, then from Albania, that he had been found, but the rumours
were always false. I chanced to hear something about the matter in
this way. I was on board a Roumanian vessel bound from Constanza to
Constantinople, when I accidentally overheard two Roumanian naval
officers talking together. One of them said: "That was on the day
when the police brought Catarau on board to help him to get away
secretly."
Catarau was heard of later at Cairo, which he appears to have reached
with the aid of Roumanian friends.
It cannot be asserted that the Roumanian Government was implicated in
the plot--but the Roumanian authorities certainly were, for in the
Balkans, as in Russia, there are many bands like the _Cerna Ruka_, the
_Narodna Odbrena_, etc., etc., who carry on their activities alongside
the Government.
It was a crime committed by some Russian or Roumanian secret society,
and the Governments of both countries showed surprisingly little
interest in investigating the matter and delivering the culprits up to
justice.
On June 15 I heard from a reliable source that Catarau had been seen
in Bucharest. He walked about the streets quite openly in broad
daylight, and no one interfered with him; then he disappeared.
To return, however, to my interview with the old King. Filled with
alarm, he dispatched that same evening two telegrams, one to Belgrade
and one to Petersburg, urging that the ultimatum be accepted without
fail.
The terrible distress of mind felt by the King when, like a sudden
flash of lightning from the clouds, he saw before him a picture of the
world war may be accounted for because he felt certain that the
conflict between his personal convictions and his people's attitude
would suddenly be known to all. The poor old King fought the fight to
the best of his ability, but it killed him. King Carol's death was
caused by the war. The last weeks of his life were a torture to him;
each message that I had to deliver he felt as the lash of a whip. I
was enjoined to do all I could to secure Roumania's prompt
co-operation, according to the terms of the Alliance, and I was even
obliged to go so far as to remind him that "a promise given allows of
no prevarication: that a treaty is a treaty, and _his honour_ obliged
him to unsheathe his sword." I recollect one particularly painful
scene, where the King, weeping bitterly, flung himself across his
writing-table and with trembling hands tried to wrench from his neck
his order _Pour le Mérite_. I can affirm without any exaggeration that
I could see him wasting away under the ceaseless moral blows dealt to
him, and that the mental torment he went through undoubtedly shortened
his life.
Queen Elizabeth was well aware of all, but she never took my action
amiss; she understood that I had to deliver the messages, but that it
was not I who composed them.
Queen Elizabeth was a good, clever and touchingly simple woman, not a
_poet qui court après l'esprit_, but a woman who looked at the world
through conciliatory and poetical glasses. She was a good
conversationalist, and there was always a poetic charm in all she did.
There hung on the staircase a most beautiful sea picture, which I
greatly admired while the Queen talked to me about the sea, about her
little villa at Constanza, which, built on the extreme end of the
quay, seems almost to lie in the sea. She spoke, too, of her travels
and impressions when on the high seas, and as she spoke the great
longing for all that is good and beautiful made itself felt, and this
is what she said to me: "The sea lives. If there could be found any
symbol of eternity it would be the sea, endless in greatness and
everlasting in movement. The day is dull and stormy. One after another
the glassy billows come rolling in and break with a roar on the rocky
shore. The small white crests of the waves look as if covered with
snow. And the sea breathes and draws its breath with the ebb and flow
of the tide. The tide is the driving power that forces the mighty
waters from Equator to North Pole. And thus it works, day and night,
year by year, century by century. It takes no heed of the perishable
beings who call themselves lords of the world, who live only for a
day, coming and going and vanishing almost as they come. The sea
remains to work. It works for all, for men, for animals, for plants,
for without the sea there could be no organic life in the world. The
sea is like a great filter, which alone can produce the change of
matter that is necessary for life. In the course of a century
numberless rivers carry earth to the sea. Each river carries without
ceasing its burden of earth and sand to the ocean; and the sea
receives the load which is carried by the current far out to sea, and
slowly and by degrees in the course of time the sea dissolves or
crushes all it has received. No matter to the sea if the process lasts
a thousand years or more--it may even last for ages, who can tell?
"But one day, quite suddenly, the sea begins to wander. Once there was
sea everywhere, and all continents are born from the sea. One day land
arose out of the sea. The birth was of a revolutionary nature, there
were earthquakes, volcanic craters, falling cities and dying men--but
new land was there. Or else it moves slowly, invisibly, a metre or two
in a century, and returns to the land it used to possess. Thus it
restores the soil it stole from it, but cleaner, refined and full of
vitality to live and to create. Such is the sea and its work."
These are the words of the old half-blind Queen, who can never look
upon the beloved picture again, but she told me how she always
idolised the sea, and how her grand nephews and nieces shared her
feelings, and how she grew young again with them when she told them
tales of olden times.
One could listen to her for hours without growing weary, and always
there was some beautiful thought or word to carry away and think over.
Doubtless such knowledge would be more correct were it taken from some
geological work. But Carmen Sylva's words invariably seemed to strike
some poetic chord; that is what made her so attractive.
She loved to discourse on politics, which for her meant King Carol. He
was her all in all. After his death, when it was said that all states
in the world were losing in the terrible war, she remarked: "Roumania
has already lost her most precious possession." She never spoke of her
own poems and writings. In politics her one thought besides King Carol
was Albania. She was deeply attached to the Princess of Wied, and
showed her strong interest in the country where she lived. Talking
about the Wieds one day afforded me an opportunity of seeing the King
vexed with his wife; it was the only time I ever noticed it. It was
when we were at Sinaia, and I was, as often occurred, sitting with the
King. The Queen came into the room, which she was otherwise not in the
habit of entering, bringing with her a telegram from the Princess of
Wied in which she asked for something--I cannot now remember what--for
Albania. The King refused, but the Queen insisted, until he at last
told her very crossly to leave him in peace, as he had other things to
think of than Albania.
After King Carol's death she lost all her vital energy, and the change
in the political situation troubled her. She was very fond of her
nephew Ferdinand--hers was a truly loving heart--and she trembled lest
he should commit some act of treachery. I remember once how, through
her tears, she said to me: "Calm my fears. Tell me that he will never
be guilty of such an act." I was unable to reassure her, but a kind
Fate spared her from hearing the declaration of war.
Later, not long before her death, the old Queen was threatened with
total blindness. She was anxious to put herself in the hands of a
French oculist for an operation for cataract, who would naturally be
obliged to travel through the Monarchy in order to reach Bucharest. At
her desire I mentioned the matter in Vienna, and the Emperor Francis
Joseph at once gave the requisite permission for the journey.
After a successful operation, the Queen sent a short autograph poem to
one of my children, adding that it was her _first_ letter on
recovering her sight. At the same time she was again very uneasy
concerning politics.
I wrote her the following letter:
Your Majesty,--My warmest thanks for the beautiful little poem you
have sent to my boy. That it was granted to me to contribute
something towards the recovery of your sight is in itself a
sufficient reward, and no thanks are needed. That Your Majesty has
addressed the first written lines to my children delights and
touches me.
Meanwhile Your Majesty must not be troubled regarding politics. It
is of no avail. For the moment Roumania will retain the policy of
the late King, and God alone knows what the future will bring
forth.
We are all like dust in this terrible hurricane sweeping through
the world. We are tossed helplessly hither and thither and know
not whether we are to face disaster or success. The point is not
whether we live or die, but how it is done. In that respect King
Carol set an example to us all.
I hope King Ferdinand may never forget that, together with the
throne, his uncle bequeathed to him a political creed, a creed of
honour and loyalty, and I am persuaded that Your Majesty is the
best guardian of the bequest.
Your Majesty's grateful and devoted
CZERNIN.
When I said that King Carol fought the fight to the best of his
ability, I intended to convey that no one could expect him to be
different from what he always was. The King never possessed in any
special degree either energy, strength of action, or adventurous
courage, and at the time I knew him, as an old man, he had none of
those attributes. He was a clever diplomat, a conciliatory power, a
safe mediator, and one who avoided trouble, but not of a nature to
risk all and weather the storm. That was known to all, and no one,
therefore, could think that the King would try to put himself on our
side against the clearly expressed views of all Roumania. My idea is
that if he had been differently constituted he could successfully have
risked the experiment. The King possessed in Carp a man of quite
unusual, even reckless, activity and energy, and from the first moment
he placed himself and his activities at the King's disposal. If the
King, without asking, had ordered mobilisation, Carp's great energy
would have certainly carried it through. But, in the military
situation as it was then, the Roumanian army would have been forced to
the rear of the Russian, and in all probability the first result of
the battlefields would have changed the situation entirely, and the
blood that was shed mutually in victorious battles would have brought
forth the unity that the spirit of our alliance never succeeded in
evolving. But the King was not a man of such calibre. He could not
change his nature, and what he did do entirely concurred with his
methods from the time he ascended the throne.
As long as the King lived there was the positive assurance that
Roumania would not side against us, for he would have prevented any
mobilisation against us with the same firm wisdom which had always
enabled him to avert any agitation in the land. He would then have
seen that the Roumanians are not a warlike people like the Bulgarians,
and that Roumania had not the slightest intention of risking anything
in the campaign. A policy of procrastination in the wise hands of the
King would have delayed hostilities against us indefinitely.
Immediately after the outbreak of war Bratianu began his game, which
consisted of entrenching the Roumanian Government firmly and willingly
in a position between the two groups of Powers, and bandying favours
about from one to the other, reaping equal profits from each, until
the moment when the stronger of the two should be recognised as such
and the weaker then attacked.
Even from 1914-16 Roumania was never really neutral. She always
favoured our enemies, and as far as lay in her power hindered all our
actions.
The transport of horses and ammunition to Turkey in the summer of 1915
that was exacted from us was an important episode. Turkey was then in
great danger, and was asking anxiously for munitions. Had the
Roumanian Government adopted the standpoint not to favour any of the
belligerent Powers it would have been a perfectly correct attitude,
viewed from a neutral standpoint, but she never did adopt such
standpoint, as is shown by her allowing the Serbians to receive
transports of Russian ammunition via the Danube, thus showing great
partiality. When all attempts failed, the munitions were transmitted,
partially at any rate, through other means.
At that time, too, Russian soldiers were allowed in Roumania and were
not molested, whereas ours were invariably interned.
Two Austrian airmen once landed by mistake in Roumania, and were, of
course, interned immediately. The one was a cadet of the name of
Berthold and a pilot whose name I have forgotten. From their prison
they appealed to me to help them, and I sent word that they must
endeavour to obtain permission to pay me a visit. A few days later the
cadet appeared, escorted by a Roumanian officer as guard. This
officer, not being allowed without special permission to set foot on
Austro-Hungarian soil, was obliged to remain in the street outside the
house. I had the gates closed, put the cadet into one of my cars, sent
him out through the back entrance, and had him driven to Giurgui,
where he got across the Danube, and in two hours was again at liberty.
After a lengthy and futile wait the officer departed. His protests
came too late.
The unfortunate pilot who was left behind was not allowed to come to
the Embassy. One night, however, he made his escape through the window
and arrived. I kept him concealed for some time, and he eventually
crossed the frontier safely and got away by rail to Hungary.
Bratianu reproached me later for what I had done, but I told him it
was in consequence of his not having strictly adhered to his
neutrality. Had our soldiers been left unmolested, as in the case of
the Russians, I should not have been compelled to act as I had done.
Bratianu can never seriously have doubted that the Central Powers
would succumb, and his sympathies were always with the Entente, not
only on account of his bringing up, but also because of that political
speculation. During the course of subsequent events there were times
when Bratianu to a certain extent seemed to vacillate, especially at
the time of our great offensive against Russia. The break through at
Görlitz and the irresistible advance into the interior of Russia had
an astounding effect in Roumania. Bratianu, who obviously knew very
little about strategy, could simply not understand that the Russian
millions, whom he imagined to be in a fair way to Vienna and Berlin,
should suddenly begin to rush back and a fortress like Warsaw be
demolished like a house of cards. He was evidently very anxious then
and must have had many a disturbed night. On the other hand, those who
to begin with, though not for, still were not against Austria began to
raise their heads and breathe more freely. The victory of the Central
Powers appeared on the horizon like a fresh event. That was the
historic moment when Roumania might have been coerced into active
co-operation, but not the Bratianu Ministry. Bratianu himself would
never in any case have ranged himself on our side, but if we could
have made up our minds then to instal a Majorescu or a Marghiloman
Ministry in office, we could have had the Roumanian army with us. In
connection with this were several concrete proposals. In order to
carry out the plan we should have been compelled to make territorial
concessions in Hungary to a Majorescu Ministry--Majorescu demanded it
as a primary condition to his undertaking the conduct of affairs, and
this proposal failed owing to Hungary's obstinate resistance. It is a
terrible but a just punishment that poor Hungary, who contributed so
much to our definite defeat, should be the one to suffer the most from
the consequences thereof, and that the Roumanians, so despised and
persecuted by Hungary, should gain the greatest triumphs on her
plains.
One of the many reproaches that have been brought against me recently
is to the effect that I, as ambassador at Bucharest, should have
resigned if my proposals were not accepted in Vienna. These reproaches
are dictated by quite mistaken ideas of competency and responsibility.
It is the duty of a subordinate official to describe the situation as
he sees it and to make such proposals as he considers right, but the
responsibility for the policy is with the Minister for Foreign
Affairs, and it would lead to the most impossible and absurd state of
things if every ambassador whose proposals were rejected were to draw
the conclusion that his resignation was a necessary consequence
thereof. If officials were to resign because they did not agree with
the view of their chief, it would mean that almost all of them would
send in their resignations.
Espionage and counter-espionage have greatly flourished during the
war. In that connection Russia showed great activity in Roumania.
In October, 1914, an event occurred which was very unfortunate for me.
I drove from Bucharest to Sinaia, carrying certain political
documents with me in a dispatch-case, which, by mistake, was fastened
on behind instead of being laid in the car. On the way the case was
unstrapped and stolen. I made every effort to get it back, and
eventually recovered it after a search of three weeks, involving much
expense. It was found at last in some peasant's barn, but nothing had
apparently been abstracted save the cigarettes that were in it.
Nevertheless, after the occupation of Bucharest copies and photographs
of all my papers were found in Bratianu's house.
After the loss of the dispatch-case I at once tendered my resignation
in Vienna, but it was not accepted by the Emperor.
The Red Book on Roumania, published by Burian, which contains a
summary of my most important reports, gives a very clear picture of
the several phases of that period and the approaching danger of war.
The several defeats that Roumania suffered justified the fears of all
those who warned her against premature intervention. In order to
render the situation quite clear, it must here be explained that
during the time immediately preceding Roumania's entry into war there
were really only two parties in the country: the one was hostile to us
and wished for an immediate declaration of war, and the other was the
"friendly" one that did not consider the situation ripe for action and
advised waiting until we were weakened still more. During the time of
our successes the "friendly" party carried the day. Queen Marie, I
believe, belonged to the latter. From the beginning of the war, she
was always in favour of "fighting by the side of England," as she
always looked upon herself as an Englishwoman, but, at the last moment
at any rate, she appears to have thought the time for action
premature. A few days before the declaration of war she invited me to
a farewell lunch, which was somewhat remarkable, as we both knew that
in a very few days we should be enemies. After lunch I took the
opportunity of telling her that I _likewise_ was aware of the
situation, but that "the Bulgarians would be in Bucharest before the
Roumanians reached Budapest." She entered into the conversation very
calmly, being of a very frank nature and not afraid of hearing the
truth. A few days later a letter was opened at the censor's office
from a lady-in-waiting who had been present at the lunch. It was
evidently not intended for our eyes; it contained a description of the
_déjeuner fort embêtant_, with some unflattering remarks about me.
Queen Marie never lost her hope in a final victory. She did not
perhaps agree with Bratianu in all his tactics, but a declaration of
war on us was always an item on her programme. Even in the distressing
days of their disastrous defeat she always kept her head above water.
One of the Queen's friends told me afterwards that when our armies,
from south, north and west, were nearing Bucharest, when day and night
the earth shook with the ceaseless thunder of the guns, the Queen
quietly went on with her preparations for departure, and was firmly
persuaded that she would return as "Empress of all the Roumanians." I
have been told that after the taking of Bucharest Bratianu collapsed
altogether, and it was Queen Marie who comforted and encouraged him.
Her English blood always asserted itself. After we had occupied
Wallachia, I received absolutely reliable information from England,
according to which she had telegraphed to King George from Jassy,
recommending "her little but courageous people" to his further
protection. After the Peace of Bucharest strong pressure was brought
to bear on me to effect the abdication of the King and Queen. It would
not in any way have altered the situation, as the Entente would
naturally have reinstated them when victory was gained; but I opposed
all such efforts, not for the above reason, which I could not foresee,
but from other motives, to be mentioned later, although I was
perfectly certain that Queen Marie would always remain our enemy.
The declaration of war created a very uncomfortable situation for all
Austro-Hungarians and Germans. I came across several friends in the
Austro-Hungarian colony who had been beaten by the Roumanian soldiers
with the butt-ends of their rifles on their way to prison. I saw wild
scenes of panic and flight that were both grotesque and revolting, and
the cruel sport lasted for days.
In Vienna all subjects of an enemy state were exempt from deportation.
In my capacity as Minister I ordered reprisals on Roumanian citizens,
as there were no other means to relieve the fate of our poor refugees.
As soon as the neutral Powers notified that the treatment had become
more humane, they were set free.
If we showed ourselves at the windows or in the garden of the Embassy
the crowd scoffed and jeered at us, and at the station, when we left,
a young official whom I asked for information simply turned his back
on me.
A year and a half later I was again in Bucharest. The tide of victory
had carried us far, and we came to make peace. We were again subjects
of interest to the crowds in the streets, but in very different
fashion. A tremendous ovation awaited us when we appeared in the
theatre, and I could not show myself in the street without having a
crowd of admirers in my wake.
Before all this occurred, and when war was first declared, the members
of the Embassy, together with about 150 persons belonging to the
Austro-Hungarian colony, including many children, were interned, and
spent ten very unpleasant days, as we were not sure whether we should
be released or not. We had occasion during that time to witness three
Zeppelin raids over Bucharest, which, seen in the wonderful moonlight,
cloudless nights under the tropical sky, made an unforgettable
impression on us.
I find the following noted in my diary:
"_Bucharest, August, 1916._
"The Roumanians have declared war on my wife and daughter too. A
deputation composed of two officials from the Ministry for Foreign
Affairs, in frock-coats and top hats, appeared last night at eleven
o'clock in my villa at Sinaia. My wife was roused out of her sleep,
and by the light of a single candle--more is forbidden on account of
the Zeppelin raids--they informed her that Roumania had declared war
on us.
"As the speaker put it, '_Vous avez déclaré la guerre_.' He then read
the whole declaration of war aloud to them both. Bratianu sent word
to me that he would have a special train sent to take my wife and
daughter and the whole personnel of the Embassy to Bucharest.
"_Bucharest, September, 1916._
"The Roumanians really expected a Zeppelin attack at once. So far it
has not occurred, and they begin to feel more at ease, and say that it
is too far for the Zeppelins to come all the way from Germany. They
seem not to be aware that Mackensen has Zeppelins in Bulgaria. But who
can tell whether they really will come?
"_Bucharest, September, 1916._
"Last night a Zeppelin did come. About three o'clock we were roused by
the shrill police whistles giving the alarm. The telephone notified us
that a Zeppelin had crossed the Danube, and all the church bells began
to peal. Suddenly darkness and silence reigned, and the whole town,
like some great angry animal, sullen and morose, prepared for the
enemy attack. Nowhere was there light or sound. The town, with a
wonderful starry firmament overhead, waited in expectation. Fifteen,
twenty minutes went by, when suddenly a shot was fired and, as though
it were a signal, firing broke out in every direction. The
anti-aircraft guns fired incessantly, and the police, too, did their
best, firing in the air. But what were they firing at? There was
absolutely nothing to be seen. The searchlights then came into play.
Sweeping the heavens from east to west, from north to south, they
searched the firmament, but could not find the Zeppelin. Was it really
there, or was the whole thing due to excited Roumanian nerves?
"Suddenly a sound was heard: the noise of the propeller overhead. It
sounded so near in the clear, starry night, we felt we must be able to
see it. But the noise died away in the direction of Colbroceni. Then
we heard the first bomb. Like a gust of wind it whistled through the
air, followed by a crash and an explosion. A second and third came
quickly after. The firing became fiercer, but they can see nothing
and seem to aim at where the sound comes from. The searchlights sway
backwards and forwards. Now one of them has caught the airship, which
looks like a small golden cigar. Both the gondolas can be seen quite
distinctly, and the searchlight keeps it well in view, and now a
second one has caught it. It looks as though this air cruiser is
hanging motionless in the sky, brilliantly lit up by the searchlights
right and left. Then the guns begin in good earnest. Shrapnel bursts
all around, a wonderful display of fireworks, but it is impossible to
say if the aim is good and if the monster is in danger. Smaller and
smaller grows the Zeppelin, climbing rapidly higher and higher, until
suddenly the miniature cigar disappears. Still the searchlights sweep
the skies, hoping to find their prey again.
"Suddenly utter silence reigns. Have they gone? Is the attack over?
Has one been hit? Forced to land? The minutes go by. We are all now on
the balcony--the women, too--watching the scene. Again comes the
well-known sound--once heard never forgotten--as though the wind were
getting up, then a dull thud and explosion. This time it is farther
away towards the forts. Again the firing breaks out, and machine-guns
bark at the friendly moon; searchlights career across the heavens, but
find nothing. Again there falls a bomb--much nearer this time--and
again comes the noise of the propellers louder and louder. Shrapnel
bursts just over the Embassy, and the Zeppelin is over our heads. We
hear the noise very distinctly, but can see nothing. Again a sudden
silence everywhere, which has a curious effect after the terrible
noise. Time passes, but nothing more is heard. The first rays of dawn
are seen in the east; the stars slowly pale.
"A child is heard to cry somewhere, far away: strange how clearly it
sounds in the silent night. There is a feeling as though the terrified
town hardly dared breathe or move for fear the monster might return.
And how many more such nights are there in prospect? In the calm of
this fairylike dawn, slowly rising, the crying of the child strikes a
note of discord, infinitely sad. But the crying of the child--does it
not find an echo among the millions whom this terrible war has driven
to desperation?
"The sun rises like a blood-red ball. For some hours the Roumanians
can take to sleep and gather fresh strength, but they know now that
the Zeppelin's visit will not be the last.
"_Bucharest, September, 1916._
"The Press is indignant about the nocturnal attack. Bucharest is
certainly a fortress, but it should be known that the guns are no
longer in the forts. It was stated in the _Adeverul_ that the heroic
resistance put up in defence was most successful. That the airship,
badly damaged, was brought down near Bucharest, and that a commission
started off at once to make sure whether it was an aeroplane or a
Zeppelin!
"_Bucharest, September, 1916._
"The Zeppelin returned again this evening and took us by surprise. It
seemed to come from the other side of Plojest, and the sentries on the
Danube must have missed it. Towards morning the night watch at the
Embassy whose duty it is to see that there is no light in the house
saw a huge mass descending slowly over the Embassy till it almost
touched the roof. It hovered there a few minutes, making observations.
No one noticed it until suddenly the engines started again, and it
dropped the first bomb close to the Embassy. A direct hit was made on
the house of the Ambassador Jresnea Crecianu, and twenty gendarmes who
were there were killed. The royal palace was also damaged. The
Government is apparently not satisfied with the anti-aircraft forces,
but concludes that practice will make them perfect. Opportunity for
practice will certainly not be lacking.
"Our departure is being delayed by every sort of pretext. One moment
it seems as though we should reach home via Bulgaria. This idea suited
Bratianu extremely well, as the Bulgarian willingness to grant
permission was a guarantee that they had no plans of attack. But he
reckoned in this without his host. E. and W. are greatly alarmed
because the Roumanians intend to detain them, and will probably hang
them as spies. I have told them, 'Either we all stay here or we all
start together. No one will be given up.' That appears to have
somewhat quieted their fears.
"As might be expected, these nocturnal visits had disagreeable
consequences for us. The Roumanians apparently thought that it was not
a question of Zeppelins, but of Austro-Hungarian airships, and that my
presence in the town would afford a certain protection against the
attacks; after the first one they declared that for every Roumanian
killed ten Austrians or Bulgarians would be executed, and the hostile
treatment to which we were subjected grew worse and worse. The food
was cut down and was terribly bad, and finally the water supply was
cut off. With the tropical temperature that prevailed and the
overcrowding of a house that normally was destined to hold twenty, and
now housed 170, persons, the conditions within the space of
twenty-four hours became unbearable and the atmosphere so bad that
several people fell ill with fever, and neither doctor nor medicine
was obtainable. Thanks to the energetic intervention of the Dutch
Ambassador, Herr von Vredenburch, who had undertaken the charge of our
State interests, it was finally possible to alter the conditions and
to avert the outbreak of an epidemic."
* * * * *
It was just about that time that our Military Attaché, Lieut.-Colonel
Baron Randa, made a telling remark. One of our Roumanian slave-drivers
was in the habit of paying us a daily visit and talking in the
bombastic fashion the Roumanians adopted when boasting of their
impending victories. The word "Mackensen" occurred in Randa's answer.
The Roumanian was surprised to hear the name, unknown to him, and
said: "Qu'est-ce que c'est que ce Mackensen? Je connais beaucoup
d'Allemands, mais je n'ai jamais fait la connaissance de M.
Mackensen." "Eh bien," replied Randa, patting him on the shoulder,
"vous la ferez cette connaissance, je vous en guarantie." Three months
after that Mackensen had occupied all Wallachia and had his
headquarters at Bucharest. By that time, therefore, his name must have
been more familiar to our Roumanian friend.
At last we set off for home via Russia and had a very interesting
journey lasting three weeks, via Kieff, Petersburg, Sweden, and
Germany. To spend three weeks in a train would seem very wearisome to
many; but as everything in this life is a matter of habit we soon grew
so accustomed to it that when we arrived in Vienna there were many of
us who could not sleep the first few nights in a proper bed, as we
missed the shaking of the train. Meanwhile, we had every comfort on
the special train, and variety as well, especially when, on Bratianu's
orders, we were detained at a little station called Baratinskaja, near
Kieff. The reason of this was never properly explained, but it was
probably owing to difficulties over the departure of the Roumanian
Ambassador in Sofia and to the wish to treat us as hostages. The
journey right through the enemy country was remarkable. Fierce battles
were just then being fought in Galicia, and day and night we passed
endless trains conveying gay and smiling soldiers to the front, and
others returning full of pale, bandaged wounded men, whose groans we
heard as we passed them. We were greeted everywhere in friendly
fashion by the population, and there was not a trace of the hatred we
had experienced in Roumania. Everything that we saw bore evidence of
the strictest order and discipline. None of us could think it possible
that the Empire was on the eve of a revolution, and when the Emperor
Francis Joseph questioned me on my return as to whether I had reason
to believe that a revolution would occur, I discountenanced the idea
most emphatically.
This did not please the old Emperor. He said afterwards to one of his
suite: "Czernin has given a correct account of Roumania, but he must
have been asleep when he passed through Russia."
3
The development of Roumanian affairs during the war occurs in three
phases, the first of which was in King Carol's reign. Then neutrality
was guaranteed. On the other hand, it was not possible during those
months to secure Roumania's co-operation because we, in the first
period of the war, were so unfavourably situated in a military sense
that public opinion in Roumania would not voluntarily have consented
to a war at our side, and, as already mentioned, such forcible action
would not have met with the King's approval.
In the second phase of the war, dating from King Carol's death to our
defeat at Luck, conditions were quite different. In this second phase
were included the greatest military successes the Central Powers ever
obtained. The downfall of Serbia and the conquest of the whole of
Poland occurred during this period, and, I repeat, in those months we
could have secured the active co-operation of Roumania. Nevertheless,
I must make it clearly understood here that if the political
preliminaries for intervention on the part of Roumania were not
undertaken, the fault must not be ascribed to the then Minister of
Foreign Affairs, but to the _vis major_ which opposed the project
under the form of a Hungarian veto. As previously stated, Majorescu,
as well as Marghiloman, would only have given his consent to
co-operation if Roumania had been given a slice of the Hungarian
state. Thanks to the attitude of absolute refusal observed at the
Ballplatz, the territory in question was never definitely decided on,
but the idea probably was Transylvania and a portion of the Bukovina.
I cannot say whether Count Burian, if he had escaped other influences,
would have adopted the plan, but certain it is that however ready and
willing he was to act he would never have carried out the plan against
the Hungarian Parliament. According to the Constitution, the Hungarian
Parliament is sovereign in the Hungarian State, and without the use of
armed means Hungary could never have been induced to cede any part of
her territory.
It is obvious, however, that it would have been impossible during the
world war to have stirred up an armed conflict between Vienna and
Budapest. My then German colleague, von dem Busche, entirely agreed
with me that Hungary ought to make some territorial sacrifices in
order to encourage Roumania's intervention. I firmly believe that
then, and similarly before the Italian declaration of war, a certain
pressure was brought to bear direct on Vienna by Berlin to this end--a
pressure which merely contributed to strengthen and intensify Tisza's
opposition. For Germany, the question was far simpler; she had drawn
payment for her great gains from a foreign source. The cession of the
Bukovina might possibly have been effected, as Stürgkh did not object,
but that alone would not have satisfied Roumania.
It was quite clear that the opposition to the ceding of Transylvania
originated in Hungary. But this opposition was not specially Tisza's,
for whichever of the Hungarian politicians might have been at the head
of the Cabinet he would have adopted the same standpoint.
I sent at that time a confidential messenger to Tisza enjoining him to
explain the situation and begging him in my name to make the
concession. Tisza treated the messenger with great reserve, and wrote
me a letter stating once for all that the voluntary cession of
Hungarian territory was out of the question; "whoever attempts to
seize even one square metre of Hungarian soil will be shot."
There was nothing to be done. And still I think that this was one of
the most important phases of the war, which, had it been properly
managed, might have influenced the final result. The military advance
on the flank of the Russian army would have been, in the opinion of
our military chiefs, an advantage not to be despised, and through it
the clever break through at Görlitz would have had some results; but
as it was, Görlitz was a strategical trial of strength without any
lasting effect.
The repellent attitude adopted by Hungary may be accounted for in two
ways: the Hungarians, to begin with, were averse to giving up any of
their own territory, and, secondly, they did not believe--even to the
very last--that Roumania would remain permanently neutral or that
sooner or later we would be forced to fight _against_ Roumania unless
we in good time carried her with us. In this connection Tisza always
maintained his optimism, and to the very last moment held to the
belief that Roumania would not dare take it upon herself to attack us.
This is the only reason that explains why the Roumanians surprised us
so much by their invasion of Transylvania and by being able to carry
off so much rich booty. I would have been able to take much better
care of the many Austrians and Hungarians living in Roumania--whose
fate was terrible after the declaration of war, which took them also
by surprise--if I had been permitted to draw their attention more
openly and generally to the coming catastrophe; but in several of his
letters Tisza implored me not to create a panic, "which would bring
incalculable consequences with it." As I neither did, nor could, know
how far this secrecy was in agreement with our military
counter-preparations, I was bound to observe it. Apparently, Burian
believed my reports to a certain extent; at any rate, for some time
before the declaration of war he ordered all the secret documents and
the available money to be conveyed to Vienna, and entrusted to Holland
the care of our citizens; but Tisza told me long after that he
considered my reports of too pessimistic a tendency, and was afraid to
give orders for the _superfluous_ evacuation of Transylvania.
After the unexpected invasion, the waves of panic and rage ran high in
the Hungarian Parliament. The severest criticism was heaped upon me,
as no one doubted that the lack of preparation was due to my false
reports. Here Tisza was again himself when, in a loud voice, he
shouted out that it was untrue; my reports were correct; I had warned
them in time and no blame could be attached to me; he thus took upon
himself the just blame. Fear was unknown to him, and he never tried to
shield himself behind anyone. When I arrived back in Vienna after a
journey of some weeks in Russia, and only then heard of the incident,
I took the opportunity to thank Tisza for the honourable and loyal
manner in which he had defended my cause. He replied with the ironical
smile characteristic of him that it was simply a matter of course.
But for an Austro-Hungarian official it was by no means such a matter
of course. We have had so many cowards on the Ministerial benches, so
many men who were brave when dealing with their subordinates, toadied
to their superiors, and were intimidated by strong opposition, that a
man like Tisza, who was such a contrast to these others, has a most
refreshing and invigorating effect. The Roumanians attempted several
times to make the maintenance of their _neutrality_ contingent on
territorial concessions. I was always opposed to this, and at the
Ballplatz they were of the same opinion. The Roumanians would have
appropriated these concessions and simply attacked us later to obtain
more. On the other hand, it seemed to me that to gain _military
co-operation_ a cession of territory would be quite in order, since,
once in the field, the Roumanians could not draw back and their fate
would be permanently bound up with ours.
Finally, the third phase comprises the comparatively short period
between our defeat at Luck and the outbreak of the war in Roumania,
and was simply the death throes of neutrality.
War was in the air and could be foreseen with certainty.
As was to be expected, the inefficient diplomacy displayed in the
preparations for the world war brought down severe criticism of our
diplomatic abilities, and if the intention at the Ballplatz was to
bring about a war, it cannot be denied that the preparations for it
were most inadequate.
Criticism was not directed towards the Ballplatz only, but entered
into further matters, such as the qualifications of the individual
representatives in foreign countries. I remember an article in one of
the most widely-read Viennese papers, which drew a comparison between
the "excellent" ambassador at Sofia and almost all of the others; that
is, all those whose posts were in countries that either refused their
co-operation or even already were in the field against us.
In order to prevent any misunderstanding, I wish to state here that in
my opinion our then ambassador to Sofia, Count Tarnowski, was one of
the best and most competent diplomats in Austria-Hungary, but that the
point of view from which such praise was awarded to him was in itself
totally false. Had Count Tarnowski been in Paris, London or Rome,
these states, in spite of his undeniable capabilities, would not have
adopted a different attitude; while, on the other hand, there are
numbers of distinguished members of the diplomatic corps who would
have carried out his task at Sofia just as well as Count Tarnowski.
In other words, I consider it is making an unwarrantable demand to
expect that a representative in a foreign land should have a leading
influence on the policy of the state to which he is accredited. What
may be demanded of a diplomatic representative is a correct estimate
of the situation. The ambassador must know what the Government of the
state where he is will do. A false diagnosis is discreditable. But it
is impossible for a representative, whoever he may be, to obtain such
power over a foreign state as to be able to guide the policy of that
state into the course desired by him. The policy of a state will
invariably be subservient to such objects as the Government of that
period deem vital, and will always be influenced by factors which are
quite outside the range of the foreign representative.
In what manner a diplomatic representative obtains his information is
his own affair. He should endeavour to establish intercourse, not only
with a certain class of society, but also with the Press, and also
keep in touch with other classes of the population.
One of the reproaches made to the "old régime" was the assumed
preference for aristocrats in diplomacy. This was quite a mistake. No
preference was shown for the aristocracy, but it lay in the nature of
the career that wealth and social polish were assets in the exercise
of its duties. An attaché had no salary. He was, therefore, expected
to have a tolerably good income at home in order to be able to live
conformably to his rank when abroad. This system arose out of
necessity, and was also due to the unwillingness of the authorities to
raise salaries in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs. The consequence
was that only sons of wealthy parents could adopt such a career. I
once told some delegates who interviewed me in connection with the
subject that a change of the system depended entirely on themselves
and their increased munificence.
A certain amount of social polish was just as necessary for diplomats
of the old régime as was the requisite allowance for their household
and a knowledge of foreign languages. So long as courts exist in
Europe, the court will always be the centre of all social life, and
diplomats must have the entrée to such circles. A young man who does
not know whether to eat with his fork or his knife would play a sorry
part there--his social training is not an indifferent matter.
Preference is, therefore, not given to the aristocracy, but to young
men of wealth familiar with European society etiquette.
That does not mean that a diplomat is to consider it his duty only to
show himself at all the parties and fêtes given by the upper ten
thousand, but it is one of his duties, as at such places he might gain
information unobtainable elsewhere. A diplomat must be in touch with
all sources from which he can glean information.
Individual capabilities and zeal will naturally play a great part; but
the means that a Government places at the disposition of its foreign
missions are also of the highest importance.
There are people in the East--I do not know whether to say in
contradistinction to the West--who are not immune to the influence of
gold. In Roumania, for instance, Russia, before the war, had
completely undermined the whole country and had lavished millions long
before the war in the hope of an understanding with that country. Most
of the newspapers were financed by Russians, and numbers of the
leading politicians were bound by Russian interests, whereas neither
Germany nor Austria-Hungary had made any such preparations. Thus it
happened that, on the outbreak of war, Russia was greatly in advance
of the Central Powers, an advance that was all the more difficult to
overtake as from the first day of war Russia opened still wider the
floodgates of her gold and inundated Roumania with roubles.
If the fact that the scanty preparation for war is a proof of how
little the Central Powers reckoned on such a contingency it may on the
other hand explain away much apparent inactivity on the part of their
representatives. Karl Fürstenberg, my predecessor at Bucharest, whose
estimate of the situation was a just one, demanded to have more funds
at his disposal, which was refused at Vienna on the plea that there
was no money. After the war began the Ministry stinted us no longer,
but it was too late then for much to be done.
Whether official Russia, four weeks in advance, had really counted on
the assassination of the Archduke and the outbreak of a war ensuing
therefrom remains an open question. I will not go so far as to assert
it for a fact, but one thing is certain, that Russia within a
measurable space of time had prepared for war as being inevitable and
had endeavoured to secure Roumania's co-operation. When the Tsar was
at Constanza a month before the tragedy at Sarajevo, his Minister for
Foreign Affairs, Sassonoff, paid a visit to Bucharest. When there, he
and Bratianu went on a walking tour together to Transylvania. I did
not hear of this tactless excursion until it was over, but I shared
Berchtold's surprise at such a proceeding on the part of both
Ministers.
I once, in 1914, overheard by chance a conversation between two
Russians. It was at the Hotel Capsa, known later as a resort for
anti-Austrians. They were sitting at the table next to mine in the
restaurant and were speaking French quite freely and openly. They
appeared to be on good terms with the Russian Ambassador and were
discussing the impending visit of the Tsar to Constanza. I discovered
later that they were officers in mufti. They agreed that the Emperor
Francis Joseph could not live very much longer, and that when his
death occurred and a new ruler came to the throne It would be a
favourable moment for Russia to declare war on us.
They were evidently exponents of the "loyal" tendency that aimed at
declaring war on us without a preceding murder; and I readily believe
that the majority of the men in Petersburg who were eager for war held
the same view.