B008AITH44 EBOK

by Hamann, Brigitte

  Andrássy was under constant observation, especially during his visits to Vienna. That it was not possible for him to call on the Empress privately goes without saying; but that he was also reluctant to visit Ida Ferenczy’s apartments shows the degree of secrecy. Andrássy to Ida: “I wanted to come up to you, but since I assume that all my steps are being followed, I did not unnecessarily want to show the paths along which Providence is now doing its work.”20

  *

  The political situation, especially relations with Prussia, worsened rapidly during these weeks. There were long conferences about possible preparations for war. Ludwig von Benedek was named commander in chief of the troops in Bohemia, while Archduke Albrecht was assigned to head the armies in Northern Italy.

  Franz Joseph and Elisabeth did not agree on the person in Berlin responsible for the anti-Austrian sentiments. Elisabeth wrote to her mother, very childishly, “It really would be a mercy if the King of Prussia were to die suddenly, it would prevent a great deal of misfortune.”21 Franz Joseph knew better who was fanning the flames in Berlin: “As long as Bismarck remains, there will be no real peace.”22 As early as April 1866, Prussia concluded a secret treaty against Austria with the new Kingdom of Italy. Bismarck now fomented the conflict over Schleswig-Holstein so cleverly that war became inevitable. Supremacy in Germany was at stake.

  For fear that France would also involve herself in the war and strengthen the Italian position, Austria concluded a secret treaty with Napoleon III on June 12. In return for assurance of French neutrality, Austria ceded the province of Venetia to France. France intended to pass the province on to Italy. The peculiar situation, then, was that the Austrian troops in Italy paid a high price in blood fighting for a province that the Emperor had already given away (though the generals were unaware of the true state of affairs).

  A declaration of war followed on June 15, 1866. In the northern sector, Prussia fought against Austria, Saxony, Bavaria, Württemberg, Baden, Hanover, and Hesse-Kassel—for all practical purposes, that is, against the rest of Germany. Hardly anyone in Europe gave the Prussian armies a chance against such numerical superiority. But the immense military strength of Austria existed only on paper. The German allies did not amount to much; only Saxony entered the war at full strength; all the other German states had problems, especially Bavaria. At the height of the crisis, young King Ludwig II, disgusted by the political dealings, retired to his Rose Island in Lake Starnberg. For days, the ministers were unable to have an audience with their King. Instead, Ludwig used the time to set off a splendid fireworks display on the lake. The Austrian envoy reported to Vienna, “One begins to think that the King is demented.”23

  Even Elisabeth, who was always ready to defend her Bavarian family, did not conceal her disapproval. She wrote to her mother in Possenhofen, “I hear the King has gone away again. If only he would pay a little more attention to the government, now that times are so bad!”24

  During these worrisome days, the Empress was in Vienna, by her husband’s side. Now at last she forgot her troubles, her “caprices” and minor ailments. She was informed about political and military events and daily wrote long letters to her son in Bad Ischl in order to keep the eight-year-old up to date on events—including even such horror stories as one occurrence after the victory at Custozza at the end of June 1866. “The Piedmontese behave quite inhumanly to the prisoners, they kill the wounded, enlisted men as well as officers, yes they even hanged a few riflemen, two could still be saved, but one went mad. Uncle Albrecht threatened them with retaliation.”25 But Venetia could not be regained.

  From the northern sector—Bohemia—one piece of bad news followed on the last. Once again the generals failed. Once again the equipment and provisions turned out to be inadequate.

  Emperor Franz Joseph preserved a remarkable calm. Elisabeth to Rudolf: “In spite of the sad times and the many cares of state, dear Papa looks well, thank God, has an admirable calm and confidence in the future, although the Prussian needle guns are enormously successful…. This afternoon Papa had detailed news of the most recent battles, and they are better than he thought they would be, only the losses are terrible, since the troops are too brave and too fiery, so that an order was issued for them to wait with their bayonet attacks until the artillery has done its work.”26

  On July 1, the Empress wrote with great caution to her son’s tutor, Colonel Latour (“Tell Rudolf as much as you consider advisable”): “Unfortunately, the situation is such that I can no longer send you news by telegraph, but to keep my promise, I want to let you know by letter how matters stand with us now. The northern army suffered terribly from the most recent battles, with a loss of 20,000 men, almost all staff and higher officers have been shot out of their regiments. The Saxons, too, are badly beaten.”27 Elisabeth: “The Emperor is admirable, always uniformly calm and collected…. The news I send you is bad, but one must not lose courage.”

  The day after the decisive Battle of Königgrätz (July 3), Elisabeth wrote to Latour, “Last night we received the news that dashed our last hopes … the losses are said to be terrible.” There followed details of wounded relatives and friends: “Archduke Wilhelm suffered a head wound; Count Festetics’s foot was shot away, it has already been amputated; then Colonel Müller was hit, Count Grünne [the son of Karl Grünne] is also said to be gravely wounded…. No one yet knows, I think, what will happen next, God grant only that no peace is concluded, we have nothing more to lose, so it is better to perish with honor.” Then Elisabeth expressed compassion for “the poor child,” Rudolf, “whose future is such a sad one.”28

  The horrifying details from Königgrätz surpassed all imagination. Landgravine Fürstenberg: “It is the bloodiest war known to history.” The Austrians “were doused with bullets so hard that they fell by the company, it was as if sand were being thrown in their faces; it must have been a horrible bloodbath. Let God put an end to it, no matter how and through whom.”29

  The battle was the biggest military encounter of modern history to date. Around 450,000 men were in the field—more than took part in the “Battle of the Nations” against Napoleon at Leipzig. This one battle and this one day turned Prussia into a European Great Power.30

  Daily, trains filled with the wounded arrived at the Nordbahnhof. The Empress was busy from morning to night giving comfort. Both her mother-in-law and the public appreciated Elisabeth’s activities. Landgravine Therese Fürstenberg: “The Empress edifies and astonishes all the world by the truly maternal manner in which she devotes herself to the care of the wounded and the hospitals; it was time for her to win back the hearts of the public; she is doing a good job.”31

  Daily the Prussian troops moved closer to Vienna. Whoever could afford to do so, fled the city, taking valuables to safety. The court was packing as well. Starting on July 10, the most important files of the Foreign Ministry and the Cabinet Chancellery, and the most valuable manuscripts in the Court Library were shipped to Budapest. The most valuable paintings were removed from the walls. The furs of the imperial family and, of course, the crown insignia were also sent to Hungary.

  The Swiss envoy informed Bern that the Emperor would personally assume the command in any impending battle outside the gates of Vienna. The crisis in Austria was so acute, he wrote, that there was already talk in Vienna of a regency by the Empress.32

  *

  Elisabeth, too, left Vienna on July 9 (that is, a mere six days after Königgrätz) and traveled to Budapest. Three days later, she returned to Vienna briefly to get the children, who had been brought to the capital from Bad Ischl.

  Archduchess Sophie was outraged at this decision. In her considered opinion, the children were much safer in Bad Ischl, besides being able to enjoy the salubrious mountain air. She feared that “the humid air and the bad water of Budapest” could harm the Crown Prince’s health. The fact that Hungary had been picked for the imperial family’s sanctuary was more than an annoyance to Sophie.33 In any case, she refused to join them and re
mained in Bad Ischl, moving all her valuables there.

  Sisi’s choice of Hungary as a haven from this precarious, even desperate situation was a political decision of the greatest import. After all, it was just at this time that Bismarck, sparing no expense, essayed his support of the Klapka Legion, which aimed at separating Hungary from Austria and exploiting Austria’s desolate situation for a nationalist uprising. According to prevailing opinion, revolution in Hungary would signal the end of the Austrian monarchy.

  Sisi’s journey to Hungary was carefully calculated: Of all the members of the imperial family, she maintained the best relations with Hungary. And these relations were now sorely needed. It is not known who was behind the plan. Considering the furious opposition of Archduchess Sophie, it is even likely that the whole action—a deeply political maneuver—can be ascribed to none other than the usually so apolitical Empress herself, and that this time she was able to get her way. It was also an essential part of the calculation that she took the children with her. The parallels to Maria Theresia’s cry for help to the Hungarians in Pressburg in 1741 (holding the little successor to the throne in her arms) was pointed out soon enough in the Hungarian newspapers—and its significance should not be underestimated.

  A further gesture that attracted a great deal of attention on the part of the Empress occurred during her farewells at the Vienna railroad station: she publicly kissed the hand of her husband, who had been humiliated on every side. Franz Joseph’s popularity had fallen to an all-time low during these sad weeks. The populace, harried by war and misery, accused him of placing the interests of the dynasty before those of the state. The rumor was making the rounds that Emperor Maximilian was returning from Mexico to assume the regency in Austria. Shouts were heard, directed at the Emperor, “Viva Maximilian!”—that is, a demand for abdication. The phrase, “Let the Prussians come, we’ll build golden bridges for them” was even heard.34 In this situation, the Empress, usually so critical, stood by her husband.

  In Hungary, Elisabeth and the children were received enthusiastically. Deák, Andrássy, and other leading political figures came to greet them at the railway station. Deák referred to the glittering reception accorded the Emperor and Empress during their most recent visit to Hungary when he said, “I would consider it cowardice to turn our backs on the Empress in her misfortune after we came forward to meet her when the affairs of the dynasty were still favorable.”35

  In Budapest, Elisabeth was entirely under Hungarian influence. Her daily, increasingly firm letters put pressure on her husband, supported the Hungarian demands, and urged Franz Joseph to make haste. Her first objective was to arrange a personal meeting between the Emperor and Deák.

  Sisi was a willing, almost fanatical tool of Andrássy and his policies. He was extremely clever at making her feel that she was the savior of Austria (and Hungary). On July 15, she wrote the Emperor that she had just come from a meeting with Andrássy

  alone, of course. He expressed his views clearly and precisely. I understood them and gained the conviction that, if you trust him, but entirely, we, and not Hungary alone, but the monarchy, can still be saved. But you must at least speak with him yourself, and I mean at once, for each day can shape events in such a way that in the end he would no longer assume it; at such a moment it really does require a very large sacrifice to do it. So speak with him at once. You can do so frankly, for I can give you this assurance, you are not dealing with a man who wants to play a part at any price, who strives for a position, quite the contrary, he is jeopardizing his present position, which is a handsome one. But like any man of honor, he is also prepared, at the moment when the state is facing ruin, to contribute all in his power to salvage it; whatever he has, his reason, his influence in the country, he will place at your feet. For the last time, I beg you in the name of Rudolf, do not let the last opportunity slip by.

  The letter continued in the same tone. At no other time in her life did Elisabeth write such long letters to her husband as she did now, when it was a matter of Hungary (and Andrássy’s will). For the sake of Hungary (and Andrássy), she worded her political preferences so sharply as to approximate blackmail:

  I beg you, send me a telegram the minute you receive my letter whether Andrássy should take the evening train to Vienna. I am asking him to come again tomorrow to Paula [Königsegg, her chatelaine], where I will give him an answer. If you say “No,” if you are unwilling at the final hour even to listen to disinterested advice any longer, then you are in fact acting un … ly to us all. In that case, you will be forever spared my further p … and ms. [pleas and molestations], and I have nothing to fall back on but to reassure myself with the knowledge that, whatever happens, I will one day be able honestly to tell Rudolf, “I did all in my power. Your misfortune does not weigh on my conscience.”36

  Franz Joseph capitulated. Against his better judgment and the advice of his mother and his ministers in Vienna, he acceded to his wife’s rigorous demands.

  Gyula Andrássy called on the Emperor on July 17, bringing with him a long letter from Sisi to her husband. The interview lasted an hour and a half. According to Franz Joseph, Andrássy spoke “very frankly and cleverly, developed all his views, and begged me most of all to speak with the old man”—that is, with Fèrencz Deák.

  Franz Joseph’s suspicion of Andrássy, however, was deep-seated: “For the rest, I found him, as always, too imprecise in his views and without the necessary consideration of the other parts of the monarchy. He covets a great deal and offers too little at the present crucial moment.” On the other hand, the Emperor praised Andrássy’s “great frankness and level-headedness”: “but I fear that he has neither the strength nor can find the means in his country to carry out his present intentions.”37

  Andrássy’s pronounced liberal policies ran completely counter to the principles of the Viennese court as well as those of the Emperor. It was obvious that adopting any such new policy for Hungary would also affect the other parts of the monarchy. For this reason, the Hungarian demands were supported by constitutionalists and liberals in the other parts of the monarchy.

  On July 19, “the old man,” Ferencz Deák, also arrived at the Hofburg. The Emperor found him “Much clearer than A[ndrássy] and taking the rest of the monarchy much more into account. But I gained the same impression from him as I did from A. They covet everything in the widest sense and offer no guarantees of success, only hopes and probabilities, and they do not promise to hold out should they be unable to carry through their intentions in the country and are outflanked by the left.” Franz Joseph had “great respect for his honesty, frankness, and dynastic loyalty … however, courage, decisiveness, and endurance in misfortune is not granted this man.”38

  *

  The Emperor felt hard-pressed on all sides. At court, anti-Hungarian sentiment was strong; but his wife regularly sent impassioned letters pleading the Hungarian cause. The Prussians were at the gates of Pressburg. A scalding heat lay over Vienna. Trains full of the wounded arrived daily.

  Many exiled kings and princes from Italy and Germany had taken refuge at the Viennese court. There was much political discussion and much argument. Aggression filled the air. But the Emperor “intends to hold out to the last,” wrote Archduke Ludwig Viktor to his mother, Archduchess Sophie.39 In these days, Franz Joseph’s letters to his wife ended in a signature different from his usual closing. Instead of the standard wording, “Your ever-loving Franz,” the letters now read piteously, “Your devoted little man,” “Your manikin,” or “Your little one who loves you so much”—formulations the Emperor kept up for the rest of her life.

  Hope for help from France was equally vain. Napoleon III had been given an enormous present—Venetia—and he had received it even before the war and without having to promise help in return. It never crossed Napoleon’s mind now to come to Austria’s aid. After all, he had never obligated himself to do so. Archduke Ludwig Viktor heaped reproaches on King Johann of Saxony on this score: “Uncle Johan
n, to whom today … I spoke my mind about Venetia, now deeply regrets having given this advice, since Napoleon does absolutely nothing for us and since now it is all over unless we get an armistice.”40 Finally, through French intermediaries, a cease-fire—for five days, to begin with—was arranged.

  The southern army continued to fight in Northern Italy. On July 21, the news of the brilliant Austrian naval victory at Lissa, under Admiral Wilhelm von Tegetthoff, arrived. This victory gave particular satisfaction to Archduchess Sophie, since it was her son Max who, as commander in chief of the navy, had insisted on instituting important reforms before leaving Austria.

  The newspapers made a great fuss over the victory and tried to elevate the dark mood that prevailed in Austria. The public was still unaware that Venetia was lost and that the victory was just as pointless as that of Custozza. But the mood in Vienna continued to be tense.

  The decimated and exhausted troops of the northern army longed for peace every bit as much as the severely distressed populace. Of course, no one in Vienna knew that the Prussians, too, had exhausted their strength because cholera had broken out; this circumstance could not, therefore, be used in Vienna’s favor during the negotiations.

  Franz Joseph was already making his personal plans for the armistice. When he wrote to his wife, he expressed great longing for her and begged her to go to Bad Ischl with the children, “for your presence in Hungary would no longer be necessary, since thereafter, the political question there must be attacked, and the country will calm down.” In Bad Ischl, he added, he would be able “perhaps sometimes to visit” his family, “for I, too, could profit from a day or so of rest.”41

  But Elisabeth remained in Budapest and continued to write her urgent letters. Franz Joseph’s patience began to show signs of exhaustion.