We military men, acquainted with the aspirations of the Austrian
General Staff, knew only too well the far-reaching effect the crime of
Sarajevo was likely to have. Our sole interest became the crisis, our
sole topic of conversation from morning until night the probability
of war. The baccarat rooms of the International Club were deserted,
and it was the same with all other amusements and recreations. Only
a few English and American enthusiasts continued to frequent the
golf-links and the tennis-courts, apparently oblivious of the volcano
on which they were dallying. The arrival of the whirlwind itself--the
mobilization order and the certainty that the first shots in the great
war would soon be fired--speedily aroused them from their apparent
indifference. Then came the sudden emptying of the hotels, the rush
of panic-stricken visitors to the station, and our own precipitate
departure for Vienna and the Staff headquarters. Can one be astonished
at the fact that the petty private affairs of Count Seilern and
the Archduchess Valeria were momentarily obliterated by the great
world-drama in which we were to play our respective parts?
More than four months had elapsed since the outbreak of war. The
approach of Christmas found us on the battlefield and, alas! as far
from our goal as on the occasion when we officers of the General
Staff, assembled on the eve of our departure for the Front, raised
our glasses and drank to the day of victory. All hope of a short
campaign had gone for ever. Being now a prisoner of war, I can confess
to my feelings of those days without the slightest compunction, and
frankly admit that, despite our undoubted military successes, I was a
disappointed man. How could my mental attitude be otherwise when I sat
down and calmly compared the early weeks of the war with the existing
situation?
Candidly, I was full of disillusionments, and to add still more to my
wretchedness in the little Hungarian village where we were stationed,
certain personal grievances weighed heavily upon me. Picture a soldier
of my active and imaginative temperament, who had lived for weeks in
the hope of participating in the glory of battle, being forced to live
that quasi-military life somewhere at the back of the Front.
I was not the only one who felt the monotony of that existence, made up
of receiving and transmitting reports, coding and deciphering messages,
poring over maps, and otherwise taking part in the office work of the
General Staff. Some of my brother-officers were perhaps more patient
and philosophic than I was, but I am convinced there was not one of
them who, at the bottom of his heart, was not heartily sick of this
vegetating life at the end of the telegraph wires, far from the actual
scenes of operations.
But I am wandering a little from my story, and mentioning my
brother-officers brings me back to the main theme. Whom do you
think--to the infinite satisfaction of a man yearning for congenial
society, no less than to his great surprise--they included? Of all
people in the world, no other than Count Seilern!
Retrospection--backed up by a nature essentially fatalistic--forces
me to the conclusion that I was destined to meet this man again
and to play a prominent part in his life. How can one set down to
a mere coincidence that second meeting and the blossoming of our
acquaintanceship of the International Club of C---- into a close
friendship, any more than one can think that it was due to mere chance
that I should then have learnt so much (for my future guidance)
relating to his private history, in which, again, I was to be, in such
strange circumstances, both actor and historian?
Since Fate, then, has made me the historian of this tragic tale, let me
come at once to the facts and so relieve my mind of some part of the
burden which I fear will always oppress it.
Count Seilern held the rank of first lieutenant of cavalry. Being
the bearer of one of the noblest names in Austria, he benefited by a
certain amount of protection. His duties were much less onerous than
ours, but on that account the monotony of his existence must have been
all the greater. More than once, indeed, he confessed to me how much he
felt it. Coupling certain remarks of his with information which came
to me from a sure source, I saw clearly the principal reason which, as
Christmas drew near, made him sadder and sadder. It was evident that he
was filled with an ardent desire to see the Archduchess Valeria once
more. Taking advantage of the unsettled state of the nation's affairs,
the lovers had found a means of once more corresponding with each other
freely, and, as was shortly to be proved to us, of concocting one of
the most daring of plans.
It was undoubtedly the fertile brain of the Archduchess Valeria which
conceived a means of putting the much-relaxed vigilance of the Court
authorities off the scent. All difficulties were removed by her
patience and veritable genius for intrigue. On the plea of taking an
active part in war work, she succeeded in severing all relations with
her ignoble consort, and--having obtained a first-class training as a
nurse--secured an engagement in a Red Cross hospital train circulating
in the very sector, at the rear of the armies, where we were stationed.