her husband, who doted on her doubly, must nurse his fury amidst pomp.
The fury did not dissipate with time. Years later, after the last of three Hohenberg children had been born, Franz Joseph advanced Sophie's rank to Duchess of Hohenberg. No longer merely 'Your Princely Grace,' she was addressed henceforth as 'Your Most Serene Highness.' Yet the limitations imposed on her even now, in 1913, must have taxed anybody's serenity, high or low. Sophie's husband still entered events of state alone, immediately after the Emperor; other members of the Imperial family followed. At last, behind the most junior archduchess, the wife of the Crown Prince was permitted to set foot on the parquet of the Court.
Nor was that all. Prince Montenuovo's jealous, zealous eye saw to it that Sophie continued to suffer other indignities of protocol. She could not sit with her husband in the Habsburg boxes at the Court Opera and the Court Theater. When riding by herself in Vienna, she must not use any of the Court carriages with their gold-threaded spokes. If she stayed in Franz Ferdinand's Vienna residence after he had left, all sentries were promptly withdrawn as if nobody worth guarding were left behind. And whenever Franz Ferdinand entertained a visiting sovereign there, she must remain invisible; Prince Montenuovo, the First Lord Chamberlain, decreed that on such occasions the existence of a hostess could be acknowledged-as a ghost: An extra place setting would be laid which would remain unoccupied.
The Crown Prince's first major anger, then, burned at the inflictor of high-altitude humiliations, far above the common ruck. His second major anger, however, involved an issue so down to earth that it would bloody fields across the continent.
The issue, of course, was Serbia. And the target of the Archduke's second major anger, the great foe of all Serbians, occupied the enormous desk of the Chief of Staff in Vienna's Ministry of War. General Franz Conrad von Hotzendorf stood out in the Austrian officer corps as its ablest military technician, unmatched in his flair for organizing and deploying army units. Franz Ferdinand stood out as the keenest mind by far among archdukes. An affinity linked the two men, cordial at first, livid in the end.
The Crown Prince had quickly discerned the General's talent. As early as 1906 he had persuaded the Emperor to leapfrog Baron Conrad beyond the seniority of other generals. That year His Majesty appointed Conrad head of the General Staff at the relatively tender age of fifty-three. Slim, blond, strikingly mustached, he had a facial tic flavoring his handsomeness. He also had a personality as hard-edged as Franz Ferdinand's. In 1911 a clash with the then Foreign Minister led to his dismissal. Again the Crown Prince championed him. After the advent of the new Foreign Minister, Count von Berchtold, the Crown Prince had Conrad reappointed. Almost simultaneously, toward the end of 1912, friendship changed to conflict. To the degree that the Archduke had once supported the General, the General now vexed, disturbed, outraged the Archduke.
The General kept writing position paper after position paper about Serb aggression against Albania and Serb agitators in Habsburg Bosnia. Every other day he urged a massive preventive strike at Serbia as the one way of restoring Austrian security in the Balkans. The Archduke, on the other hand, knew that only conciliation would serve the Empire in the end.
The General lobbied for war at the ultimate level of decision through his audiences with Franz Joseph in Vienna's Imperial Palace. It was a venue uncongenial to the Archduke. He did not like the capital because he did not like seeing his wife humbled there; furthermore he could not trust his temper even in an All-Highest confrontation. Therefore much of his peacepleading was done by letters to Franz Joseph.
By the start of 1913 the contest appeared to tilt in the General's favor. Conrad produced new intelligence of Serb infiltrations into Albanian territory. Though the Emperor still refused to unleash his divisions, he did authorize the strengthening of garrisons along Russian as well as Serb borders with reservists called up for that purpose. Russia, Serbia's protector, countered in kind. Mobilization seemed to replace diplomacy. In early February Franz Ferdinand determined that he'd better go to Vienna after all.
He went without his Sophie (so that the Court would not have the pleasure of punishing her with etiquette). He also refrained from requesting an audience (to circumvent a very possible, very personal collision with the Emperor). However, he did attend a dinner for his brother-in-law, Duke Albrecht of Wurtemberg. It was a gathering of the crested great during which the Crown Prince dashed the hopes of the haut monde again. At this rare appearance, too, he did not so much enliven Vienna socially as irritate it politically. At the height of the gala he raised his glass to his cause: 'To peace! What would we get out of war with Serbia? We'd lose the lives of young men and we'd spend money better used elsewhere. And what would we gain, for heaven's sake? Some plum trees and goat pastures full of droppings, and a bunch of rebellious killers. Long live restraint!'
Dutiful applause around the table. A headshake on the part of the Emperor after he was informed of his nephew's exclamations. They coincided with news from the Chief of Staff of more misdeeds by Belgrade. Franz Joseph had to agree with his general: Restraint vis-a vis Serbia would look like weakness. Army reserves kept entraining for the borders.
Returned to Konopiste, Franz Ferdinand tried to sway his uncle via the Foreign Minister. In mid-February he wrote Count von Berchtold, '… God forbid that we annex Serbia. We'd spend millions on keeping these people down and would still have a horrendous insurgent movement. As for the irredentists within our frontiers, the ones to whom hotheads in our government are pointing-all that would stop the moment we give our Slavs something of a comfortable, just and good existence.'
In his letter of reply the Foreign Minister bowed and scraped, and did nothing that might countervail Hothead No. 1, the Chief of Staff.
The third week of February began with snow and rumors of further mobilization, all swirling thickly. Franz Ferdinand dispatched the head of his Military Chancellery to General Conrad's office in Vienna. 'His Imperial Highness,' the aide said with the proper stiffness, 'wishes Your Excellency to understand that neither he nor any Austrian patriot covets a square meter of Serbian ground. His Imperial Highness is convinced that if we march on Serbia, Russia will march on us. His Imperial Highness is further convinced that war between Austria and Russia would encourage revolution in both countries and thereby cause the Emperor and the Tsar to push each other off their thrones. For these reasons His Imperial Highness considers war lunacy. He considers preludes to war, like constant requests for mobilization, preludes to lunacy. His Imperial Highness trusts that Your Excellency will ponder these thoughts with the care they deserve.'
The Chief of Staff, handsome blond mustache a-twitch, answered that he humbly and duly noted the Highest sentiments thus conveyed to him. Within twenty-four hours, at an All-Highest audience, he recommended calling more reserves to the colors.
***
Now Franz Ferdinand had no recourse but Franz Joseph's great ally, Germany's Kaiser Wilhelm II. It was a desperate move, and the Crown Prince executed it cunningly. What made it a bit easier was his habit of clothing anti-war arguments in vehement rhetoric. It suited his temperament, but in addressing the fustian Wilhelm it was also part of a strategy well calculated in advance. His message to Berlin resounded with carefully crafted bluster. The Crown Prince intoned the mightiness of great realms like Germany, Austria, and Russia; he hurled contempt at scummy little bandits like Serbia who tried to foment trouble between the giants; he vowed to wipe away the poison sprayed by these pygmies by insisting on troop reductions along the Russian-Austrian borders, and to continue insisting regardless of political risks but hopeful of the backing of his powerful great cousin and friend, the German suzerain….
Seldom has pacifism bristled with such militancy. Europe's foremost swaggerer was quite beguiled. 'Dear Franzi,' Kaiser Wilhelm answered, 'Bravo! It can't be easy, that sort of thing. It takes stubbornness and stamina. But success will earn you the enormous credit to have freed Europe from such pressures. Millions of grateful hearts will remember you in their prayers… Even the Tsar will be grateful when he can order some of his divisions back from the border…'
Franz Ferdinand called the Chief of Staff to Konopiste, thrust at him Wilhelm's words, dismissed him in triumph. At the same time a copy of the Kaiser's letter reached Franz Joseph. It happened that shortly before, the special emissary to the Tsar, sent by Franz Joseph at the Crown Prince's request, returned with a message of 'most friendly and fraternal feelings' from Nicholas II. Shortly afterward, Franz Joseph came to a decision. He instructed his diplomats to moderate their anti-Serb stance. And he ordered General Conrad to demobilize some reserves. Recent reinforcements along the Russian border were withdrawn again.
The problem didn't end there-but February did: a cold and difficult month in which the Crown Prince had done some good work. As March began he was ready to relax for a while in gentler climes.
His First Lord Chamberlain summoned his private train. With his wife, his daughter, and two sons, he traveled
