My Sufferings during the War
I was at Vienna when war was declared, and until actual hostilities
commenced I could hardly believe such a thing was possible. The idea
that the Emperor Francis Joseph, already with one foot in the grave,
contemplated appearing as a combatant, after invariably suffering
defeat, seemed sheer madness to me. It is true that a camarilla, acting
under orders from Berlin, used the weakly old man as a tool. But that
Berlin really wished to embark on a war which could not fail to cause
a universal conflagration was incredible. It was worse than madness--it
was a crime.
But the desire to kill carried away those in power at Berlin. I had a
presentiment of a mysterious fatality which had laid its spell on Berlin
and Vienna.
I wondered what would become of me. And each possible solution became
more and more difficult. If, according to the views of my Belgian
countrymen, I am unfortunate enough not to have regained my nationality
in spite of the good sense and approval of the King my father, and once
more denied the rights of justice and humanity, an action against which
I protest most strongly, I was regarded from the first day of the war as
an "enemy subject" by the Court of Vienna, which was doubtless pleased
to be able to hurt me in some new way.
I was asked to leave the Dual Monarchy as soon as possible. The Chief
of the Police came in person to notify me of this decision. This
distinguished functionary was in many respects courteous, but the order
was extremely precise and formal.
I left for Belgium. But certain events detained me at Munich. The
German Army barred the road, and my devoted country was soon to know the
horrors of which the first responsibility rests with Prussia.
Until August 25, 1916, I was able to live in the capital of Bavaria,
as a Belgian princess, without having to experience many of the
inconveniences to which my position exposed me. The Bavarian Government
was certainly indulgent. I was even allowed to retain a French maid
who had been long in my service. The count--that devoted knight, whose
proximity in my sad life had brought me consolation and unfailing
support--was also allowed to be a member of my entourage.
But the German victories convinced my pitiless enemies that I should
soon be at their mercy. They at once arranged their new plan of
campaign!
I am proud to write this--proud to admit that the sufferings of Belgium
were my own. She was oppressed. I was also the victim of oppression. She
had lost all. I had also lost everything.
From day to day my resources became straitened, and the atmosphere, at
first compassionate, became hostile. I tried to efface myself as much
as possible, and to submit myself patiently to the exigencies of
my delicate situation. It was well known with whom my heart was in
sympathy! Worries and harshness soon assailed me.
My son-in-law, Duke Gunther of Schleswig-Holstein, did not ignore--and
with good reason--the difficulties I had to overcome. He lost no time
in letting it be known that he considered I ought to agree to be placed
under his guardianship, and forced to receive my last morsel of bread at
his hands.
I do not wish to enlarge on the actions of this gentleman. If I were to
publish the documents and the legal papers which I have kept, I should
only add to the remorse and confusion which I should like to think have
overcome my unhappy daughter. But, in duty to myself, I must relate a
little of what transpired. Nothing else will suffice to show the drama
which has enveloped me since the day when I represented the possible
loss of a fortune to my family.
Duke Gunther of Schleswig-Holstein, from the very moment when Germany
thought herself mistress of Belgium, occupied himself in ascertaining
what might accrue to me from the inheritance of my father. Rather more
than four and a half millions had been deposited in the bank, assigned
for the benefit of my creditors, by arbitration of the tribunal which
had been formed on the eve of hostilities.
This sum of money was the object of the touching solicitude of my
son-in-law. I leave it to others to relate his efforts to obtain
possession of it and divert it into a different channel from the one for
which it was intended.
Nevertheless, these four and a half millions were only a drop in
the ocean compared with the promise of the past. My dear country can
therefore rejoice, and I rejoice with her, that, by the victory of the
Entente, she has escaped a revision of the lawsuit touching the Royal
inheritance, one which would have been in direct opposition to the
Divine and human right, at least as soon as the decree had been issued.
What crime would not then have been committed in my name in favour
of the final triumph of German arms if, threatened with the pangs of
starvation, I had signed certain renunciations which were extorted
from me at Munich, and had thereby lost my personality and abandoned my
rights to my children in consideration of a miserable pittance?
They now saw themselves likely to be compensated in some measure for
all that had previously prevented them from acquiring the King's
inheritance. They had also the certainty of possessing the thirty
millions which represent my share of the fortune of Her Majesty the
Empress Charlotte, when my unfortunate aunt succumbs beneath the burden
of her advanced age.
My children--from the hour when they became aware of the frightful state
of destitution to which I was reduced during the war--have only pursued
one end: _without troubling to see me or to approach me directly_, they
have endeavoured by the mediation of paid agents to force me to sign a
renunciation of my expectations.
[Illustration: THE DUCHESS GUNTHER OF SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN]
In direct defiance of the law I was ordered to sign my name to a
document by which I relinquished my future inheritance from the Empress
to my children. At last, worn out with sufferings, I was on the point
of consenting for a consideration of an annual payment of a sum of _six
thousand marks_, in exchange for which I was to be reduced to isolation
and slavery, and to be further plundered of all that might belong to me.
I will say nothing here to the Duke of Holstein, this soldier financier;
but to my daughter Dora, the fruit of my body, whom I have fed at my
breast, and whom I have brought up, I say this:
"You may possess all the outward appearances of respectability. You
may enjoy the benefits of a fortune of which I know the source, you may
experience neither shame nor remorse, you may even dare to pray. But God
can never be deceived. No wickedness, no guilty complicity, no action
contrary to Nature will escape His justice. Sooner or later He will
judge all men according to their works."
Before I conclude my account of the machinations of these human vultures
who attempted to assail my liberty and my rights, when once I had been
unfortunate enough to ask help from my children, I must not forget to
mention that later, when I regained the captaincy of my soul, I appealed
to Justice at Munich. The courts there declared the renunciations
extracted from me in my misery and frenzy when I was starving and
homeless to be invalid.
During the war I have often actually not known where I should sleep, or
of what my next meal would consist.
I write this frankly, without a particle of false shame--firm in the
approval of my own conscience.
I have never willingly injured anyone. I have suffered in silence. I am
speaking to-day in my own defence, bringing as evidence a family drama
which touches contemporary history. I speak with candour, but I am
not actuated by feelings of hatred. Wickedness has diminished. But
my personal sufferings have in nowise lessened. I was born a king's
daughter, I shall die a king's daughter. I have certainly pleaded for
assistance, but more on behalf of my attendants than for myself. I could
not bear to see these devoted creatures, my comfort and support in my
misery, weep and grow pale during these dark days.
The count had been obliged to leave Munich. On the morning of August 25,
1916, his room was suddenly invaded by the police. He was put in prison,
then taken to Hungary, and afterwards interned near Budapest. He was
by birth a Croatian and therefore regarded as a subject of the Entente,
even before the defeat which united Croatia and Servia. Human justice is
really only a word!
On the same day Olga, my principal attendant, an Austrian who had always
shown me an invaluable and long-standing devotion, was also arrested.
She was afterwards released. But I understood the significance of
this--the order had come from the highest authority to alienate everyone
who cared for me. I will describe what followed.
My French maid, whose care of me was so disinterested, was interned. If
my faithful Olga had not come out of prison, and if I had not had the
means to keep her, I should have been completely isolated.
But, shortly after this, I really did not know how to supply my daily
needs. My last jewels had been sold. I was now as poor as the poor souls
who implored my charity.
What should I decide to do, what should I attempt? If I appealed to my
daughter I knew that I should be up against the Duke of Holstein. He was
absolutely pitiless. All this happened in July, 1917.
Providence now threw in my way an honourable man, a Swiss professor, who
was terribly distressed at my fate.
He generously offered to help me to reach Silesia, where my daughter was
in residence at one of her castles. This castle is not far from Breslau.
I therefore left Munich, with Olga, in the hope of seeing my child and
obtaining from her some temporary shelter.
But when I reached my journey's end I tried in vain to be received,
listened to, and assisted by Dora.
I was therefore stranded in a little village in the Silesian mountains,
where my last few marks soon disappeared.
The count had tried to send me the wherewithal to exist. Without any
warning, the German postal authorities retained the money and returned
his letters.
The little inn where I had taken refuge was kept by kindly folk who
were, however, unable to let me stop unless I could pay. I saw myself
faced with the most extreme misery. The innkeeper seemed frightened
of me. He told me that he had been ordered to render an account of
my doings to the police, and that I was kept well under observation,
although I might not be aware that this was the case.
He was mistaken. I and Olga had both noticed that our slightest
movements were watched. Even in our walks in the open country we
continually met some peasant or some pedestrian who appeared not to
notice us, but who actually spied on us more or less unsuccessfully.
I felt the influence of an implacable force that wished to immure me in
some new gaol, madhouse or prison, or which would perhaps even make me
contemplate self-destruction.
In this extremity Heaven once again came to my rescue.
On the very day which I thought would be the last I should be allowed
to stay at the inn, I sat down, miserably, on a bench in front of the
house. I asked myself in despair what was to become of me. Suddenly
a carriage appeared--a rare sight in that unfrequented region. The
coachman signalled to me, and I saw, sitting in the carriage, a large,
important-looking person who seemed looking for something or somebody.
He was looking for me!
I was soon acquainted with the fact that this gentleman had come from
Budapest on behalf of the count, and wished to speak to me.
At these words I felt myself lifted out of the abyss of despair. But my
trials were not over.
The count's confidential agent had been charged with the mission of
helping me to leave Germany. In order to do this, it would be necessary
to cross Austria into Hungary, where I could rely upon active sympathy
being shown me.
Things and people had already changed in the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy!
But, what possibilities such a journey presented! First, I had no
official papers. The revelation of my name and title would alone suffice
to impede my progress; I should be instantly detained.
But although, thanks to the count's messenger, my bill at the inn was
settled, I had only very limited means at my disposal. Austria, it is
true, was not far away. We could go there across the mountains by way of
Bohemia, but the envoy declared that, owing to his shortness of breath
and his troublesome legs, he could not possibly follow me over the goat
tracks which we should most assuredly have to pass. He decided that our
best plan was to make for Dresden, and from there to choose the easiest
route.
When evening fell our host metaphorically closed his eyes to my
departure. He waited until the next day to notify my disappearance to
the authorities.
By the time he did so I was in Saxony. But here again it was too
dangerous to go near Lindenhof in a kingdom where my misfortunes had
been the subject of so much publicity. At last we remembered a little
village close to the frontier, on the side nearest Munich, where the
regime was less rigorous than in the vicinity of Dresden, and we arrived
there without anything untoward happening.
The present difficulty was not so much in crossing Germany. It chiefly
consisted in solving the question of the possibility of my being able
to stay in some retired spot without my identity being discovered and
notified, and afterwards to cross the frontier without a passport and
gain safety at Budapest.
This Odyssey alone would make a volume. It terminated in a Bavarian
village where I breathed freely once more. A good woman extended the
kindest hospitality towards me and my faithful Olga.
The count's messenger still continued to watch over my welfare, and
found accommodation for himself in the vicinity.
From my window I could see the church steeple of the Austrian village
through which I must pass in order to reach Salzburg, Vienna and
Hungary. I was now on the borders of the Promised Land. A little wood
separated me from it, at the extremity of which flowed a brook well
known to the contrabandists, since it separated Bavaria from Austria,
and served them by night as a means of transit.
I dared not risk it! It would be necessary for me to cross a bridge
constantly guarded by a sentry. But once over the bridge I should have
left Germany behind me!
When I happened to be near Munich, I had regained possession of two
favourite dogs. My love of dogs is well known. I did not wish to be
separated from these, and I had an intuition that they would be of
use to me in my flight. I thought tenderly of the clever Kiki, now a
prisoner at Bad-Elster. His successors, like himself, would surely bring
me luck! One was a big sheep-dog, the other a little griffon.
At first I hesitated to go near the bridge for fear lest I should be
recognized. Then I reflected that it would seem suspicious to a sentry
on duty if I always remained some distance away. My best method would
be not to hide from the sentries, but to walk constantly with my dogs in
their proximity. The soldiers (the same ones were always on duty)
would soon get accustomed to seeing me, and in their eyes I should only
represent an inoffensive inhabitant of the village.
The count's envoy begged me to hasten my departure. I refused. He
advised a nocturnal flight. I did not agree with him. I said: "I shall
go when I see fit, at my own time, when I _feel_ that the propitious
moment has arrived."
It is curious, but it is nevertheless true, that I always experience
a weird kind of intuition under difficulties. It is exactly as if some
inner voice advised me what course to pursue. And whenever I have obeyed
this intuition I have always been right.
One morning I awakened under the domination of my unseen guide.
"You must leave at noon to-day."
I sent at once to the count's messenger. Thanks to his official papers
he was able to cross the frontier with Olga without any difficulty. They
therefore went on in advance. I arranged to meet them at the foot of the
belfry in the Austrian village--so near and yet so far.
If the sentry stopped me and questioned me, I should be a prisoner!...
Towards noon I strolled along by the side of the brook, my big dog
jumping round me, the tiny griffon in my arms. The autumnal sun was
quite fierce, and the sentry was standing in the shade a little distance
from the bridge. I sauntered across the bridge, as if it were a matter
of course. The soldier took no notice. I walked away unconcernedly, but
my heart was beating furiously! I was in Austria at last! Upon reaching
the village I rejoined my "suite." A carriage was waiting. I drove
to Salzburg, and put up at a small hotel where I knew I should be in
temporary security.
I waited three days for the arrival of my Viennese counsel, M. Stimmer,
who had been secretly advised of my return to Austria, and of my wish to
proceed to Budapest under his protection.
M. Stimmer responded to my appeal. He waived all the legal difficulties
which might arise from the situation. The voice of humanity spoke more
strongly than the voice of obedience to the order which had banished me
from Austria, and given me over to the power of Germany, where I should
inevitably have succumbed to misery and persecution.
But in Hungary I should stand a chance of knowing happier days. M.
Stimmer decided to accompany me thither.
I had reached the limit of my endurance when my wanderings came to an
end at Budapest, and I found myself in a comfortable first-class hotel.
The authorities saw nothing compromising in my presence. At my urgent
request the count was allowed to leave the small town where he was
interned, and remain near me for several days in order to discuss my
affairs.
Unfortunately the war was hopelessly prolonged. Life gradually became
more and more difficult. Austria and Hungary were no longer the victims
of illusion. Enlightened by the knowledge of defeat, they cursed Berlin
as the author of their misfortunes. Budapest was in a state of ferment.
All at once everything collapsed. The wind of Bolshevism swept furiously
over the Dual Monarchy. I now became familiar with the commissaries
and soldiers of the Revolution. I experienced visits of inspection,
perquisitions, interrogations. But suddenly my misfortunes disarmed even
the savage leaders of Hungarian Communism. I have already mentioned how
one of these men remarked when he saw to what poverty I was reduced:
"Here is a king's daughter who is poorer than I am."
If I were to live for centuries, I should still experience in thought
those poignant emotions which I underwent during the time of torment
which overthrew thrones and threw crowns to the four winds of heaven.
Past ages have never witnessed such an upheaval.
On the banks of the Danube, between the east and the west, the downfall
of Prussian power and the prestige of Monarchy was felt perhaps more
keenly than elsewhere.
I often wondered whether I was actually alive in the world I had
formerly known, or if I was not the victim of a long-drawn-out
nightmare.
Our troubles, our worries, our own individuality are as naught in the
whirlpool of human passions. I felt myself carried away with everything
which surrounded me into the unknown country of a New Era.