The Tip of a Murky Iceberg

Although it is sad, it isn’t really surprising that at the height of the First World War with so much suffering and slaughter, people sought someone to blame for the horrors they endured. A ‘foreign’ Queen proved an easy target, particularly when that Queen happened to be born on enemy’ soil. Empress Zita of Austria-Hungary was accused of being an ‘Italian Queen’; Queen Sophie of the Hellenes was accused to passing information to her brother, the Kaiser, and of course Empress Alexandra of Russia was accused of being a German spy. All this nonsense was horrific for the victims of these slanders, but I suppose it is almost understandable when people seek someone to blame.

In researching my Shattered Crowns trilogy (the second book of which will be available this summer) I have come across other information which is far more disconcerting. These damaging rumours, it appears, were not simply the product of the anger and despair of ordinary people, but were actively encouraged and stirred up by far murkier figures who had a great deal to gain from the overthrow of monarchies – particularly the monarchies of Austria-Hungary, Germany and Russia. I recently came across an article from 1918, which reported a speech given by a respected, religious leader (obviously giving him some moral authority) who stated quite openly that the Tsarina Alexandra was responsible for the death of Lord Kitchener!

Kitchener was, at the time of his death, en route to Russia where, at the Tsar’s invitation, he was to assist in the reorganisation of the Russian Army. It might be remembered that during the arms crisis of 1916, Kitchener was something of a lone voice in the British War office, urging his government to provide Russia with the arms that had been promised. He alone seemed to understand the importance of adhering to that promise and he personally arranged a deal with an American arms manufacturer to send supplies to Russia....Interestingly, those supplies did not arrive until a month or so before the Russian Revolution (which was, in fact, funded by certain banking families based in America!) and Kitchener’s ship was sunk – ostensibly by a German mine (though the Germans insisted they were not active in that region) – before he reached Russia.

Anyone with even the tiniest knowledge of the Russian Imperial Family must be aware that Alexandra was utterly devoted to her husband, felt a great deal of antipathy towards Kaiser Wilhelm, and was totally committed to the Russian war effort. The article that claimed she was responsible for Kitchener’s death is one of the most ludicrous and outrageous pieces of propaganda I have ever read....Yet it didn’t appear in a Russian revolutionary paper but....in the New York Times! Of course, it is only reporting a speech but the headline is glaring and no attempt is made to refute the lies. How convenient was it that this article – which, incidentally is filled with praise for President Woodrow Wilson! –appeared at a time when plans were being made for the dismantling of the whole ‘old order’ of European monarchies! What better way to persuade the people of the evils of those old regimes (in Germany and Austria-Hungary as well as Russia) than to portray an innocent woman as so vile a traitor? And how cleverly this article was written to manipulate minds into believing that the old world order was entirely corrupt and only a ‘new world order’ could save the day....

And this, alas, is but the tip of an extremely murky iceberg which had more devastating effects on the world and on the lives of ordinary people than the one which sank Titanic!

The Article

The End of an Era - the Tragic Departure of Emperor Karl and Empress Zita

To anyone who wishes to really enter into the spirit of the age of Imperial (and post-World War I) Austria, I cannot recommend highly enough Stefan Zweig’s “The World of Yesterday” – a book that is not only beautifully written, but one which literally transports you on a journey to another time like no other.

Towards the end of the First World War, Stefan was away in Switzerland but, following the Armistice, he returned to a broken Austria. This incredibly moving account is one of the few first-hand witness statements of the tragic departure of the Emperor Karl and Empress Zita, which coincided with Stefan’s train journey back to his native land. He arrives at the Austrian border station:

“Upon alighting [from the train] I became aware of a restlessness among the customs officers and police. They paid small attention to us and made their inspection in a most negligent manner; plainly something important was about to happen. At last came the sound of a bell that announced the approach of a train from the Austrian side. The police lined up; the officials piled out of their offices, their womenfolk, evidently in the know,crowded together on the platform. I was particularly struck by an old lady in black with her two daughters, from her carriage and clothes evidently an aristocrat. She was visibly excited and constantly pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
Slowly, almost majestically it seemed, the train rolled near, a particular sort of train, not the shabby, weather-beaten kind, but with spacious black cars, a train de luxe. The locomotive stopped. There was a perceptible stir among the lines of those waiting but I was still in the dark. Then I recognised behind the plate glass window of the car, Emperor Karl, the last Emperor of Austria, standing with his black-clad wife, Empress Zita. I was sartled; the last Emperor of Austria, heir of the Habsburg dynasty which had ruled for seven hundred years, was forsaking his realm! He had refused to abdicate formally, yet the Republic granted every honour on the departure which it compelled rather than submitted. The tall, serious man at the window was having a last look at the hills and the homes, at the people of his land. The historic moment was doubly shocking to me, who had grown up in the tradition of the Empire, whose first song at school had been the ‘Kaiserlied’ and who had taken the military oath to obey ‘on land, at sea and in the air’ this serious and thoughtful-looking man in mufti. Innumerable times I had see the old Emperor in the long since legendary splendour of elaborate celebrations; I had seen him in the great staircase of the Schonbrunn, surrounded by his family and brilliantly uniformed generals, receiving the homage of the eighty-thousand Viennese schoolchildren, massed on the broad green plain, singing...I had seen him at the Court ball...and again at Ischl, riding to hunt in a green Tyrolean hat; I had seen him marching devoutly, with bowed head, in the Corpus Christi procession to the Cathedral of St. Stephen, and then the catafalque on that foggy, wet winter’s day in the middle of the war....

And now I saw his heir, the last emperor, banished from the country...All of those who stood about sensed history, world history, in this tragic sight. The gendarmes, the police, the soldiery were embarrassed and looked abashed because uncertain whether traditional recognition was still in order, the women hardly dared to look up, all were silent and thus the faint sobbing of the old lady, who had come from heaven knows what distance only to see ‘her’ emperor once more, was plainly audible. At last the conductor gave the signal. Everyone stared up mechanically, the irrevocable moment had come. The locomotive started with a violent jerk as if it too had to overcome a disinclination, and slowly the train withdrew. The officials followed it with a respectful gaze, after which, with that air of embarrassment which is observable at funerals, they returned to their respective stations. It was the moment in which the almost millenary monarchy really ended. I knew it was a different Austria, a different world, to which I was returning.”

The Wedding of Karl and Zita

Isn’t it exhilarating when people of the past, whose names have been so frequently repeated in history lessons in a rather one-dimensional fashion, start to become really real to you? There is such a wonderful moment when a person who was nothing but a name on a page, remembered for one small incident of their life or death, seems to become flesh and blood again before your eyes. It is rather like bringing a cloudy picture into focus through a camera lens – once there was only a vague outline but little by little the vibrancy of colour and form take shape and there is a moment of absolute clarity.

The Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand is remembered primarily (and, for the most part, solely) as the man whose murder was the catalyst to the First World War. If you Google Franz Ferdinand, the main sites that appear recount only his death (or, more frequently, the more recent music band ‘Franz Ferdinand’!). Where sites or books go a little further than the event of his death, he is described simply as unpopular, aloof, angry and not really a very attractive character.

Some time ago, I became fascinated by this man for whom, for some obscure reason, I feel great warmth. Like so many historical royalties, he is written off so glibly in one or two sentences but, the more I learn of him, the greater warmth I feel towards him. No one is ever quite so one-dimensional as history seems to present him/her.

As this is set to be a year of joyful royal weddings in Britain, here is a wonderful clip of original film footage of another joyful royal wedding, a hundred years ago: that of the lovely Archduke (future Emperor) Karl of Austria, and Zita of Bourbon-Parma. Franz Ferdinand appears several times in the clip and far from being the aloof character of popular description, he appears like any other happy participant in any other happy wedding at any time in history.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whDQfFyoGEE

Incidentally, while attending one of many funerals last year (thank goodness it is now 2011 and 2010 is over!), it was striking to me to see the same mourners, the same setting, the same movement as is seen at every other funeral throughout the ages, whether it be on old film footage or in paintings. Weddings, births, Christenings and funerals - the continuity of life, the continuity of the cycle of life – there is something quite lovely in the way that, no matter how advanced and sophisticated we think we are, we still move with the same seasonal cycles, as individual families and as humanity as a whole.

Apart from the cars and the clothing, the lovely clip of Karl’s wedding, could be from any era. If you look at the faces of the people in the background, it is just a happy family occasion. There is something so beautiful about it and about the way that old film footage gives us an insight into the characters of people which often contrasts sharply with the story that is presented by historians.

I am so grateful to the person called ‘storicus’ who has uploaded so many beautiful videos to YouTube.