THE EMPEROR
Few monarchs have waded through such deep waters of sorrow as the
venerable Emperor of Austria, who was born on August 18, 1830, and
succeeded to the throne on the abdication of his uncle, the Emperor
Ferdinand, and the renunciation of all rights by his own father. To the
good-looking high-spirited lad of eighteen the world probably did not
seem difficult to conquer, even though his dual inheritance was torn by
inward throes of dissension. It was when he was twenty-three that he
met his beautiful cousin Elizabeth, the second of the five daughters
of the Duke Maximilian Joseph of Bavaria, at Ischl, and immediately
fell in love with her, though she was only sixteen. Though negotiations
had already been entered into for his marriage with her elder sister,
he declared he would marry her and no one else, and in spite of her
surprised exclamation as to why he should choose one so insignificant,
when told of this prospect by her mother, he carried through his
project and they were betrothed in three days, though not married till
eight months after. The young couple were first cousins, their mothers
being sisters. On that large family of sons and daughters of the house
of Bavaria many sorrows have fallen. The tragic end of the Empress is
described below; one of her sisters, the Duchess of Alençon, was burnt
to death in the terrible fire at the charity bazaar in Paris a few
years earlier. Another, having married the Crown Prince of Naples, was
driven from the throne with him.
The Imperial marriage did not turn out a success. Elizabeth shared to
the full in the eccentric tendencies of her family, an eccentricity
which developed in the elder and reigning branch of her house into
madness. She was of a melancholy temperament, and entirely without the
power of adapting herself. Young as she was, her tastes were formed,
and the somewhat wild out-of-door life she had led as a girl had
imbued her with a hatred of functions and ceremonies. She was suddenly
elevated to a supreme position in one of the most conventional courts
in Europe. Small wonder was it that, in spite of her unquestioned
beauty, she alienated the hearts of her courtiers by her want of tact
and obvious dislike of court life.
Two daughters were born to her before the longed-for son, and one
of them died. This increased her unhappiness, but when at length a
prince appeared it was hoped things would go better. Unfortunately
the Empress’s eccentricity increased rather than diminished. She took
umbrage at the Emperor’s love affairs, which might have been condoned
in one in such a position of temptation, and at last she left her home
and children and wandered over Europe for many years.
Reconciliation was at length effected over the new Hungarian
constitution, when the Emperor and Empress travelled in state to
Budapest, there to be crowned King and Queen of Hungary. The ceremonies
were magnificent. All the various races of the dominions were
represented, as the writer of _The Martyrdom of an Empress_, says:
The escort of one hundred and eighty-two aristocrats was an
especially magnificent sight. Twelve pairs of cavaliers, whose
horses were led by armour-bearers in Magyar dresses, were
followed by eight mounted Magnates, each of whom carried a
banner. The others all came in pairs, each horse being led by
one or two armour-bearers. All the nobles wore the splendid
dress of the Hungarian Magnate, adorned with gold embroidery
and precious stones from the kalpak--or head-covering, which is
surmounted with heron’s feathers--down to the high boots. The
reins, gilt stirrups, and the shabracks and golden scabbards of
the scimitars were covered with diamonds and jewels, many of
them being worth a fortune.
The Emperor has always been personally greatly beloved by his subjects,
and Prince Bismarck once said, “Whatever dissensions the different
nationalities of Austria may have among themselves, as soon as the
Emperor Francis Joseph gets on horseback they all follow him with
enthusiasm.”
The Empress always got on better with the Magyars than with her
Austrian subjects, and was more loved by them. Her wonderful skill as
a horsewoman endeared her to the Magyars, every one of whom is born
with the love of horses in his veins. After the coronation the Empress
set herself to master the Hungarian language, and though it is notably
difficult, she became so proficient in it that the patriot Deak told
her she was the noblest Hungarian of them all. Her openly expressed
sorrow at the death of Deak was another link between her and the
Hungarians, who grew to love her as they had loved no queen since Maria
Teresa. The Empress Elizabeth’s knowledge of foreign languages was
something exceptional; she spoke and wrote German, Hungarian, Czech,
Polish, Roumanian, Italian, Modern Greek, English, and French. She was
very fond of Byron, who, after Heine, was her favourite poet.
The youngest child of the Imperial couple, the Archduchess Valerie, was
born the following year.
In 1879 the Empress visited Great Britain, where her firm and graceful
seat as a horsewoman attracted as much admiration as in Hungary;
she returned many times in later years, and rode to hounds with the
Pytchley, Royal Meath, and in Cheshire, and no mount was too spirited
for her to manage. She stayed also at the Isle of Wight, which she
greatly appreciated, and her clever feats of swimming were only second
to her horsemanship.
The Emperor, meantime, having borne first the burden of internal
dissensions, and then the trial and humiliation of the war with
Germany, grew old before his time and became grave and quiet.
Prince Rudolph married the Princess Stephanie of Belgium in 1881, and
in 1883 their only child, a daughter, was born to them. She was about
six years old when the terrible death of Rudolph fell as a heavy blow
on his parents. The hot-headed young man was mixed up in intrigues
unsuitable to his responsible position, with the result that he took
his own life by shooting himself, and was found dead in a shooting-box
at the end of January 1889. It is said that the Empress was never known
to laugh again.
In the following year her youngest daughter, the Archduchess Valerie,
married, and from that time the unhappy Empress travelled about a great
deal incognito on the Continent, and staying at her palace Achilleion
on Corfu. On this she spent thousands of pounds. Since her death it has
been purchased by the German Emperor.
The end came on Sunday September 11, 1898, at Geneva, whither she had
gone over for a few days from Territet where she had been staying.
Accompanied only by a lady-in-waiting the Empress was walking along the
quay between one and two in the afternoon to rejoin the boat which was
to take her back to Territet, when a man rushed forward and struck her
violently over the heart. It was thought at first he had only stumbled
against her and caused her to fall, and though he was secured no great
apprehension was raised by his strange conduct. The Empress recovered
herself and went on board, where she fainted. It was then discovered
that he had pierced her heart with a triangular file resembling a
stiletto, which had inflicted only a small wound but bled internally.
Brought back to Geneva she died in half an hour. The assassin, who had
been arrested, turned out to be an Italian anarchist named Luccheni,
who seemed to have no special motive for his dastardly crime beyond a
general vendetta against crowned heads. Thus died the Empress Elizabeth
in her sixty-first year, adding one more heart-rending sorrow to her
husband’s darkened life. There is hardly any grief in the range of
human relationships that the Emperor has not known. It was in the
very year of his wife’s death, in the month of December, that he was
preparing to celebrate his jubilee. Up to the present time he has
reigned longer than any other European sovereign of whom we have
record, having even out-distanced Queen Victoria.
There is loyalty of a very deep and true kind amongst all classes of
his subjects; it is not the Austrians alone, but the Slavs and Tyrolese
and Hungarians, who look with tender reverence on the aged man, now
in his eightieth decade, who has lived far beyond the allotted span
of man’s life. Loyalty it is none the less because it does not seek
avidly the tittle-tattle as to royal doings so eagerly sought in Great
Britain, nor does it lead to mobbing the Emperor in his capital when he
goes among his subjects.
In character the Emperor is free from vanity and simple in his tastes.
He has suffered so much that even had he not had dignity and courage
as inborn qualities he must have gained them, otherwise he could never
have survived the repeated blows of fate. He is sparing of words, but
his thought penetrates below the surface. “His calm placidity enables
him to see through the transparent motive of the self-seeker, the
charity-mongering toady--a rare gift of kingship. An indulgent smile
perhaps, but few stars and crosses are to be had for incense-burning
to this Habsburg.” In spite of being a constitutional ruler, it is
the personality of the Emperor that counts in a way that is felt
in no other country. Perhaps it is because he forms the only link
among so many nationalities, so many jarring, turbulent, and opposed
aspirations, that his person is so strongly revered. Whatever else
divides the Magyar from the Austrian and the Slav from the Magyar, here
they are all at one. Quiet, reserved, shrewd, and kindly, he has learnt
by many bitter experiences to play his hard part to perfection.
The Austrian National Anthem evokes as much feeling as in more
homogeneous countries.
[Illustration: AUSTRIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM
{_Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser, {God preserve our gracious Emp’ror,
Unsern guten Kaiser Franz!_} Franz our sov’reign, great is he:}
{_Hoch als Herrscher, hoch als Weiser, {Wise as Ruler, deep in knowledge,
Steht er in des Ruhmes Glanz!_} Nations his renown may see!}
_Liebe windet Lorbeerreiser Love entwines a crown of laurel
Ihm zum ewig grünen Kranz! That shall all unfading be!
Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser, God preserve our gracious Emp’ror,
Unsern guten Kaiser Franz!_ Franz our sov’reign, great is he!
_Über blühende Gefilde O’er a vast and mighty Empire
Reicht sein Scepter weit und breit; Rules our Sov’reign day by day;
Säulen seines Throns sind Milde, Though he wields a potent sceptre,
Biedersinn und Redlichkeit, All beneficent his sway;
Und von seinem Wappenschilde From his shield the Sun of Justice
Strahlet die Gerechtigkeit. Ever casts its purest sway!
Gott erhalte, etc._ God preserve, etc.
_Sich mit Tugenden zu schmücken, To adorn himself with virtues
Achtet er der Sorgen wert: He, and all successful, tries;
Nicht um Völker zu erdrücken Ne’er against his loving people
Flammt in seiner Hand das Schwert. Does his hand in anger rise!
Sie zu segnen, zu beglücken, No! to see them free and happy,
Ist der Preis, den er begehrt. This he holds the highest prize.
Gott erhalte, etc._ God preserve, etc.
_Er zerbrach der Knechtschaft Bande, Pioneer of perfect freedom,
Hob zur Freiheit uns empor! Blessings round his footsteps cling,
Früh erleb er deutscher Lande, To its pinnacle of greatness
Deutscher Völker höchsten Flor, Soon may he his country bring!
Und vernehme noch am Rande And when death at last approaches
Später Gruft der Enkel Chor: Shall his grateful people sing:
Gott erhalte, etc._ God preserve, etc.
]
Since the Salic law runs in Austria the Emperor’s grand-daughter cannot
succeed him, any more than his own two married daughters.
The latest, and in some ways the most terrible, tragedy of all that
have fallen on the royal house is yet fresh in the minds of every one,
for the assassination of the heir to the throne, the Archduke Francis
Ferdinand, and his wife, in the streets of Serajevo took place on
June 28, 1914. The Archduke was born in 1863, and was the son of the
Emperor’s next brother. He was thus past middle life, and was a man of
strong personality. His wife was of noble, but not of royal, blood,
and had been lady-in-waiting to the Archduchess Isabella. At the time
of the marriage the Archduke had to agree to give up all rights of
succession for any children of this union, and therefore his two sons
are now set aside in favour of their cousin, the Archduke Charles
Francis Joseph, son of their father’s brother, the late Archduke
Otto, who becomes Heir-Apparent. He was born in 1887, married in 1911
the Princess Zita of Bourbon-Parma, and has already a little son.
All the Emperor’s brothers have passed away before him. The Archduke
Maximilian, his favourite, suffered an unhappy fate. He was offered the
crown of Mexico by Napoleon III. He accepted, and in 1864 sailed for
the “Kingdom” thus bestowed on him, but his army abandoned him and the
republicans captured and shot him, thus adding another sorrow to the
heart of the aged Emperor.