| Franz Ferdinand |
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The Politician |
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As Tronfolger Franz Ferdinand could no longer serve as a regular Army officer. His military bearing remained, of course, and he was invariably seen in public or at state events – alone naturally, Sophie – in his characteristic light-blue cavalry tunic and red breeches, with a cluster of decorations high on his chest, chief among which was the Order of the Golden Fleece. In this instance he was not much different in appearance from the long-living Emperor Franz Josef. But whereas the current Monarch, his advanced age notwithstanding, bore himself with great dignity and showed touches of joviality at balls, to the peoples of the Empire the future Emperor was an aloof, scowling, brooding, ill-tempered and unlikeable man with very few immediately-redeeming features. Perhaps Franz Ferdinand's moods were understandable given the number and depth of personal insults he felt he bore – succession machinations behind his back when still alive, his social ostracism by the Habsburg archdukes & Co., unflattering articles in the Court Gazette, the unspeakable snubs to his beloved wife, the future First Lady who could never be by his side (either in life or later in death), his worries for the future of the Empire – almost entirely on his own. Perhaps this trebled both his energy and his determination all-round. With the throne of the Habsburgs due to become Franz Ferdinand's sooner rather than later, there was speculation of radical changes and reforms – perhaps as envisaged by his cousin Rudolf, but then thwarted by the rigidity of the Hofburg's ponderous conservatism. However, instead of becoming a semi-crusading reformer, Franz Ferdinand proved quite the most contradictory of personalities. He was a man who with outmoded conviction felt both the history and authority of a Habsburg monarch as a power held by divine right. But it was also clear he intended to use this soon-to-be his authority against the privileges of the aristocracy and in favour of the more oppressed peoples of the Empire. He, too, was an arch-conservative ... but with his own agenda for reform.
Some changes were indeed made. In a sudden fit of populism vs. liberalism, the Emperor decided to grant male suffrage throughout the Empire in 1905. He was prompted to this by Tsar Nicolas II's convocation of a Duma, which was more or less forced on him by the social upheavals throughout Russia following defeats during the Russo-Japanese War. Debate lasted eighteen months, but by May 1907 Austria had a parliamentary body, the Abgeordnetenhaus, in which the citizenry, at least in the Austrian half of the Empire, were represented, however notional. The Emperor and his appointed ministers in the Herrenhaus were still supreme, of course, and under the notorious 'Paragraph Fourteen' were able to override anything the deputies said or did. Hungary, not surprisingly, refused to follow suit (although as a compromise it made concessions toward a customs union), thus confirming Franz Ferdinand's suspicions of the Magyars' Förendiház being a threat to the Empire's overall cohesion. He actually planned to hold off his eventual coronation as Apostolic King of Hungary until the Ország-gyülés at Budapest had passed reforms. If the Kingdom refused, then Franz Ferdinand could – legally – use force against Hungary without violating the Apostolic Kingdom's constitution ... as he would not yet be King. With Conrad von Hötzendorff, 'Plan U' was drawn up in which the K.u.K. Armee would march on Budapest and divide Hungary into five regions – should it come to that. This, of course, could never endear Franz Ferdinand to the Hungarian people or their leaders. He remained forever wary of Russia – even more so following Russia's defeats in the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–05 on land at the Yalu river, Port Arthur and Mukden, and on the sea in the Port Arthur roads and at the battle of Tsushima. Humiliated before all the world, Russia would lick her wounds and then seek to regain her prestige in Europe, particularly in the Balkans. Always the 'champion' of the pan-Slav cause, Russia would undoubtedly support Serbia and Bulgaria in future crises. The Russian programme of military reform following the defeats in Manchuria were estimated, both tactically and technically, to reach completion by 1917. It was to pre-empt this that Conrad von Hötzendorff felt precipitate action was not only politically necessary but also militarily feasible. Therefore the irritant – Serbia – had to be dealt with first, before the K.u.K. Armee's full attention could be directed against the Russians' imminent 'preparedness.' Another crisis was already brewing in the ever-volatile Balkans, "the powder-keg of Europe." And in 1908 the first dominoes started falling. It was a jubilee year: Franz Josef celebrated the sixtieth anniversary of his accession to the Habsburg throne, elicting a frenzy of monarchist fervour as fireworks and mountaintop bonfires blazed thoughout the Empire, every mayor producing lengthy loyal addresses, every barrack square holding its special parade. On 21st May more than 80,000 schoolchildren marched through the courtyard at Schloß Schönbrunn, and the old monarch was duly moved by the sight and its devotion. What moved him even more was when, led by Kaiser Wilhelm II, all the kings and princes still ruling or residing in Germany came to pay collective hommage to the most illustrious German prince of them all, the Aller-Höchsten. Perhaps emboldened by all this adulation – not having much else dear to him any more other than the Monarchy – on 5th October Emperor Franz Josef announced in a rescript that he had, "extended our sovereign rights to Bosnia and Herçegovina, which would henceforth fall under the hereditary possessions of the House of Habsburg." Having 'occupied and administered' the two provinces since 1878 – then a preventive action against Ottoman misrule (i.e. Turks massacring Christians) – as well as maintaining garrisons in the Sandjak of Novi Pasar (a curious finger of the Ottoman province of Kosovo separating Serbia and Montenegro), the immediate pretext for this annexation of the two provinces was the mounting tension between Vienna and the Sublime Porte in Constantinople. On 25th July, 1908, a cabal of western-educated junior officers in the Ottoman army – calling themselves the Committee for Unity and Progress, but known popularly as the 'Young Turks' – seized control of the Empire and announced the reinstitution of an earlier programme of reform. The powerless Sultan Abdul Hamid II 'the Damned' was forced to convene a parliament in his capital to which all the territories in his empire – including Bosnia and Herçegovina – were required to send delegates. The actual annexation was the result of questionable behind-the-scenes political plundering by two foreign ministers: Austria-Hungary's Alois Baron Aerenthal and Russia's Alexander Izvolski, both men of humble background feeling they had 'something to prove' to their respective monarchs. The deal: Russia would permit Austria-Hungary's annexation of Bosnia and Herçegovina (by supporting Serbia's inevitable protestations only vocally) and Austria-Hungary would not object to opening the Bosporus and Dardanelles straits to Russian warships, an advantage that had been denied to Russia since 1841. The annexation was carried out both prematurely and unilaterally as details had been leaked by the Austro-Hungarian embassy in Paris. Amidst the uproar this caused Russia lost the opportunity to act, and Aerenthal subsequently refused to support Izvolski's parallel campaign over the Straits. Austria-Hungary had hereby staged the prelude to the Great War. Germany was particularly surprised by Austria-Hungary's action – instead of the expected enfeebled impotence and indecision, the Kaiser's "brilliant second on the duelling ground" had demonstrated confidence and panache. Nevertheless, this virile act of brinkmanship stirred the cauldron of Balkan turmoil. Serbia was, of course, outraged. This prompted Conrad von Hötzendorff to mobilise large units which threatened to march on Belgrade, in turn bringing about Russian rumblings along her frontier with Austria-Hungary, which led to more mobilisations by the latter. But after six months of crisis Russia – in no small measure due to pressure by the silver-tongued German Chancellor Max Prinz von Bülow – backed down from her menacing but dithering support for Serbia, and Ottoman Turkey was bought-off with a bribe of 2.5 million Turkish Livres. The only concession the Austrians made was the withdrawal of their garrisons from the Sandjak of Novi Pasar. But there were far-reaching repercussions. Bulgaria had until 1908 been a principality, only nominally independent of the Sublime Porte in Constantinople; it now formally declared itself fully independent, its prince, Ferdinand of Saxe-Coburg, styling himself 'Tsar of the Bulgars.' A year after the Young Turks' coup a similar group of Greek officers rebelled and brought about the collapse of the Greek government, enabling the new government of Prime Minister Eleutharios Venizelos to assert a more overtly nationalistic policy, heightening tensions between Greece and the Ottoman Empire. Aerenthal was made a Graf and received numerous plaudits before being mortally stricken with leukæmia in 1912, but Izvolski was demoted in 1910 (although to the cushy post of Russian ambassador in Paris). His successor, Serge Sazanov, continued Izvolski's programme of establishing long-term Russian influence in south-east Europe by helping organise four of its states (Serbia, Montenegro, Bulgaria and Greece) into the Balkan League by 1911, a miniature powerbloc of known hotheads with blatent anti-Turkish and anti-Austrian aspirations, each of whom was also wary of their allies' territorial aims. Within the League a series of bilateral agreements were tentatively reached regarding the future division of territory to be captured – or 'liberated' - from the Ottomans before the Young Turks' reforms, which included military improvement, could take effect. Franz Ferdinand regarded the annexation of Bosnia-Herçegovina as an act of irresponsible folly. Aerenthal may have admitted that the annexation was "to deal a death blow at Serb irredentism," but Serb irredentism refused to die. On the contrary, it became stronger. Serbia had been snubbed, and Russia had been defeated diplomatically – both would, of course, seek redress. Seeing their great Slav protector Russia back down following pressure from the other Great Powers, Serbia morw or less resolved to realise its dream of Greater Serbia on its own, first by claiming Bosnia with its large Serb population. The annexation crisis had created several irredentist groups with Sarajevo as their main goal. The Narodna Odbrana was the umbrella movement, supposedly dedicated to 'cultural activities.' The more sinister Cerna Ruka was set up on 11th May, 1911, a secret society of extremists including army officers, senior civil servants, academics, lawyers and other professionals with active violence in mind. Including such theatrical initiation rituals as darkened rooms, hooded figures in robes, candles, pointing of daggers, the drawing-of-blood and swearings-in, etc., its motto was the notorious Ujedinjenje ili Smrt and its shadowy link with the Serb government was via its founder, the Director of the Intelligence Bureau of the Serbian General Staff, Colonel Dragutín Dmitrijevic, whose alter-ego nom de guerre was 'Apis,' the sacred bull of ancient Egypt. And in Bosnia itself was the Mlada Bosna, an indigenous group of young Bosnian Serb terrorists, mostly high school students, who since 1908 had become de jure subjects of the empire they were pledged to overthrow. The back-room discussions of this latter group would not remain in the Sarajevo coffeehouses but would eventually lead to 'affirmative action' – with disastrous consequences ...
In Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, Franz Ferdinand felt he had an equal, or at least someone he could almost call a friend. Franz Ferdinand became Thronfolger after Germany's Bismarck era and so did not share his predecessor Rudolf's anti-Wilhelmine aversions and neuroses. The vainglorious Wilhelm was not averse to exaggerated flattery of Duchess Sophie: the küß die Hand ceremony is regarded as a graceful and particularly Austrian habit, but Wilhelm reckoned he was as good as any Austrian, and this, of course, added to Sophie's stature when with her husband – a fillip Franz Ferdinand milked to full, where and whenever possible, thereby cocking a snook at the protocol-obsessed Fürst Montenuovo. Joviality aside, Franz Ferdinand did mistrust several of Germany's aggressive attitudes, often referring to Wilhelm as Europa's größte Mordskerl, back-slapping and shoulder-patting his way across Europe, ostensibly 'keeping the peace.' For in reality the German Kaiser was a dedicated Weltpolitiker who had made it his mission in life to transform Germany into a global power of the first rank. Wilhelm II epitomised the feverish activity and restless super-sensitive nationalism of his age, and he encouraged this even more by his exaggerated and hysterical exhortations to imperial greatness. Behind the self-styled Reisekaiser stood numerous pressure groups (or what nowadays might be called 'political action committees'), busily promoting various aspects of Weltpolitik, garnering mass support for this, and exerting more influence on government policy than did the Reichstag. The best-known of these was the Alldeutscher Verband, founded by Hermann Class and backed by notable industrialists Stinnes, Borsig, Röchling and Kirdorf, which nurtured an uncomfortable type of nationalism, a mixture of anti-Semitism and Darwinian racialism, with a liberal sprinkling of expansionism. It fomented russo-, franco- and anglophobia (and was thus very much to the Kaiser's liking), and stood for the creation of a great mid-European union including German-speaking Austria, The Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg and Switzerland – and was thus very much a precursor for many of Hitler's National-Socialist ideas. Not unnaturally, the League's hysterical outpourings (and also those of the deaf, hoarse-voiced academic Heinrich von Treitschke, a fulminating xenophobic preceptor Germaniæ. "His deafness made it impossible to reply; his own voice was the only voice he ever heard, and this increased the intemperance of his emotions." - Hellmuth von Gerlach]) earned Germany a bad name abroad – including in Franz Ferdinand's Austria-Hungary, where anti-Slav sentiment was insensitive and harmful, to say the very least. Germany had medium-to-long-term territorial designs on the expiring Ottoman Empire, the Kaiser almost personally cultivating the Sultan's friendship and goodwill, with the aim of possessing Mesopotamia (the goal of the projected Berlin-to-Bagdad railway) and its port Basra so as to counter and then supplant British influence in the area. Germany's ultimate aim was to capture for herself the riches of Britain's India ... This kind of power-projection required a powerful fleet, particularly to face Britain's Royal Navy, and to help achieve this another pressure group was the Flottenverein, founded by Admiral von Tirpitz in 1898 with financial assistance from powerful industrialists, such as Krupp and Stumm. Its press organs aroused middle-class enthusiasm for a bill allocating funds to build a fleet. Anyone opposing the allocation of funds, who even voiced some form of disagreement, or exhibited anything less than outright enthusiasm for the Kaiser's ideas, was branded unpatriotic. The bill was passed in the Reichstag and the naval arms race with Great Britain began. Franz Ferdinand was aware that Austria-Hungary's closest ally had its own agenda on the world stage. Franz Ferdinand supported a strong stance against Serbia – but only politically. What would absorption of Serbia bring the Dual Monarchy? In his opinion, "Just one more pile of thieves, murderers and rascals, plus a few plum trees!" It was one more problem the Empire could well do without, as he habitually reiterated to both Conrad von Hötzendorff and the Emperor. Although the Thronfolger was sympathetic to the south-Slav cause, he dreaded the idea of Serbia becoming their champion. Unfortunately for the Habsburg Empire, this they soon became. The Balkan Wars of 1912–13 brought about more crises, but these had actually been stirring for a couple of years already, largely due to a 'new country' – Albania. Mostly of the Islamic faith, the Albanians of the Ottoman provinces of Scutari, Kosovo, Janina and Monastír initially hailed the new Young Turk government in 1908–09, but the new reforms entailed centralisation policies and led to fears of loss of privilege and even assimilation in the Albanian areas of the Ottoman Empire. So in 1910 revolts broke out, first in the (mostly-Catholic) northern areas, and then spread throughout the other Albanian regions. In May 1911 an Albanian committee in Vlorë/Valona demanded the unification of the four Albanian provinces into an autonomous Albania within the Ottoman Empire. This aroused the enmity of Greece, Montenegro, Serbia and Italy, all of whom coveted parts of the region. And just because Belgrade wanted a piece, Austria-Hungary wanted it all. Not to incorporate, or to annex à la Bosnia & Herçegovina, but in the form of a Habsburg client-state – after all, an 'Albania' would deny Serbia access to the Adriatic. For the time being, however, this 'support' remained mostly tacit and vocal. But it increasingly led Greece, Montenegro and Serbia to act together, resulting, partly, in the formation of the Balkan League. Meanwhile, the Ottomans despatched troops to put down the Albanian revolt. Montenegro's King Nikola supported the north Albanian rebels against the Ottomans with arms and sanctuary. Fighting then intesnsified throughout 1911 and 1912. Serbia was perceived as aiding Montenegro, and so Conrad von Hötzendorff fumed, Franz Ferdinand fretted, and political Vienna remained nervous. The Ottomans were also pre-occupied with war against Italy in Tripolitania (where aeroplanes were used in battle for the first time), whilst in the southernmost reaches of the Ottoman Empire a guerilla war had been smoldering in the Yemen since 1904. For the four Balkan League members it was the time to act. The tiny mountain kingdom of Montenegro upped the ante on 8th October, 1912, by firing the first shots which led its Balkan League partners to war against Turkey-in-Europe. With pocketfuls of inter-allied agreements as to the division of the spoils, each took on the Turks. Who immediately made peace with the Italians, ceding Tripolitania, so as to concentrate on the fighting in the Balkans. The Bulgarians engaged the bulk of the Ottoman forces in Thrace, defeating them at Kirkkilise/Lozengrad and Lüle Burgaz, laying siege to the mighty fortress of Adrianople/Edirne, and advancing to the Chataldzhá lines – virtually the gates of Constantinople – until struck down by fatal disease (mostly due to insanitary conditions in the Ottoman defences which the Bulgarians had just taken over). Meanwhile, as agreed earlier, they had left their 7th Rila Division as a token force to advance into Macedonia where the Serbs and Greeks did most of the fighting. The Serbs defeated the Turks at Kumanovo, Prilep and Bitola with a lot less effort than the Bulgarians required in Thrace, and advanced down the Vardar valley. The Greeks advanced into southern Macedonia, reaching Salonika before the Bulgarians or Serbs, and in Thessaly and into Epirus (southern Albania), where they laid siege to Janina/Ioánina. The Montenegrins advanced into the Sandjak of Novi Pasar, dividing it with Serbia, and sent the bulk of their forces into northern Albania to lay siege to the fortress-city of Skodër/Scutari. Fighting throughout the Balkans then died down, but as the Montenegrins lacked sufficient forces for an effective investment of Scutari (the Ottomans could still re-supply from the south), Serbia despatched forces from the Sandjak of Novi Pasar and Macedonia to occupy northern and central Albania, which included the port of Vlorë on the Adriatic. With the bulk of the remaining Ottoman forces bottled-up in Janina and Scutari, the two million Albanians sensed their opportunity and declared full independence on 28th November, 1912. Whilst the Balkan belligerents simmered throughout the uneasy post-combat 'still,' Austria-Hungary backed an independent Albania, demanding the departure of Montenegrin and Serb forces from northern and central Albania (Vienna was less vociferous about Greek departure from southern Albania), Russia supported her fellow-Slav protégés Serbia and Montenegro, and as a result the Habsburg and Romanov empires started mobilizing and squaring-off against each other. Seeing the Ottoman Empire being all but dismembered – and by these upstart successor states, too – was simply Not On; the continental Powers were not getting anything out of it themselves, but decided on diplomacy to prevent escalation of this latest Balkan squabble. In December their envoys in London – Albert Graf Mensdorff-Pouilly (Austria-Hungary), Karl Max Prinz Lichnowsky (Germany), Alexander Graf Benckendorff (Russia), marchese Guglielmo Imperiali di Francavilla (Italy), and celebrated diplomatist Paul Cambon (France) – assembled at St. James' Palace to chat about this irksome matter in the Balkans and enjoy each other's company. The chair, British Foreign Minister Sir Edward Grey, likened this 'Ambassadors Conference' to a "committee of friends" and there was that informality about it: they gathered around 4 p.m. on weekdays, breaking off for tea, and then ending their business in ample time for dinner. The conference was the last gasp of the Congress system which had contained the ambitions of the Great Powers since the similar Congress of Vienna ended in 1815. It took the ambassadors six months to broker a peace deal between Turkey and the triumphant Balkan League; decide that Scutari would be Albanian – not Montenegrin or Serb; and, umm ... agree on a sort of boundary commission-thingy to, ehh ... sort of safeguard the young Albanian state, although its actual frontiers were ... well, sort of left undetermined, really ... Whilst this cosy fireside conference was dithering on, the Greeks captured Janina (6th March), dispersed bands of Ottoman troops joined Albanian insurgents in the central- and north Albanian mountains against the occupying Serbs, Adrianople fell to the Bulgarians (26th March), and Montenegro and Serbia were urged to quit Albania so as to allow the Ottomans besieged at Scutari to depart peaceably. They refused, prompting the Great Powers to despatch a small fleet to posture off the Montenegrin coast and blockade it (Russia did not participate – 'solidarity' with its Slav brethren) until Serbia decided to quit northern Albania – but not Kosovo. Austria's Foreign Minister Leopold Graf Berchtold then suggested it was time to land troops to deal with Montenegrin defiance of the Great Powers, particularly as the Ottomans surrendered on 22nd April, and the Montenegrins entered Scutari two days later. However, on 5th May King Nikola accepted a 'loan' of Ł1.2 million to vacate Scutari (effectively a bribe, although hardly compensating for his loss of dignity and prestige, for his country was now eclipsed by Serbia). The Treaty of London was then signed by the envoys on 30th May, 1913. Meanwhile, as a sort of adjunct to the London Ambassadors Conference, there was also a St. Petersburg Conference going on, to settle and safeguard Russian interests in both Bulgaria and Rumania because of the brewing Bulgaro–Rumanian dispute; the latter demanded the southern Dobrudzha region from the former. Bulgaria now felt hard done-by: her army had done the most to beat the Ottomans in Thrace in the expectation of Serbia and Greece handing over to Bulgaria parts of Macedonia, including the port of Salonika, as agreed to in the pre-war bilateral agreements with each state. But the former partners had no intention of giving-up any of their own Macedonian acquisitions, and entered into alliance against Bulgaria. This was too much for Bulgaria, who decided to take by force what had been promised to her in the earlier gentleman's agreement. As soon as the Treaty of London had been signed Bulgaria started moving the bulk of her forces from Thrace to the west, facing the Serbs and Greeks. Assuming St. Petersburg would support her efforts, politically if not militarily, Bulgarian troops attacked the Serbs in the Vardar valley on 29/30th June, 1913. This started the Second Balkan War, although it was effectively a continuation of the First. But whereas the Bulgarians had shown initiative and admirable competency in Thrace in 1912, in Macedonia in 1913 their commanders and politicians displayed indecision and inertia. Within two days the offensive was beaten back by both the Serbs, who included a Montenegrin division, and the Greeks. The Bulgarians retreated. Then three other disasters struck the Bulgarians elsewhere. Their token occupation force in Salonika, the greatly outnumbered 2nd Battalion of the Bulgarian 14th Macedonian Regiment, was wiped-out by the Greeks, along with a number of Bulgarian civilians, thereby losing Bulgaria's claim to Salonika. The Rumanians advanced into the southern Dobrudzha, and the bulk of their army crossed the Danube at three places and advanced west and south-west into Bulgaria. The latter, committed entirely in the west and south-west, had nothing with which to oppose them. Rumanian calvalry approached defenceless Sofia whilst aeroplanes dropped leaflets over the bewildered population (the first city to experience this), and also met up with the Serbs in the north-west, surrounding and investing Vidin on the Danube. As if this was not bad enough for the Bulgarians, the regrouped Ottoman army also decided to get in on the act, advanced on Adrianople/Edirne, and retook eastern Thrace, undoing all of Bulgaria's hard-fought achievements there. Amidst the catastrophic reports from the battlefields, and the utter failure of the Russians to do anything at all to alleviate the disaster encompassing Bulgaria, the pro-Russian government of Stojan Danev in Sofia resigned on 13th July. It was replaced by a Russophobe government that looked more to Germany and Austria-Hungary to save Bulgaria from total emasculation. Whilst diplomatic feelers were put out – one such halted the Rumanian advance into Sofia and elswhere – the Bulgarian retreats in Macedonia stopped at Kalimantsi and the Kresna Gorge where, respectively, the Serb and Greek advances were checked. The latter victory, developing into a Cannae-style annihilation of the Greeks, only just saved Bulgaria from total collapse – and the Greeks from utter humiliation. On 31st July in Bucharest Bulgaria agreed to an armistice pending the outcome of peace negotiations there. In ironic Great Power pairings Austria-Hungary and Russia supported Bulgaria's claim to retain eastern Macedonia and the port of Kavála, but Germany and France supported the Greeks. Austro-Hungarian and Russian pressure ensured that Serbia would not keep all of the Vardar watershed in Macedonia, conceding the town of Shtip to Bulgaria. Montenegro, although not in territorial dispute with Bulgaria, also sent a delegation, which succeeded in ensuring that Serbia would concede a good part of the Sandjak of Novi Pasar to Montenegro (confirmed by the Treaty of Belgrade, 7th November, 1913). The ambassadors in London, Grey's "committee of friends," must have thought, "Oh the impertinence of it ..." for the Balkan delegates settled their affairs in just over a week, signing the Treaty of Bucharest on 10th August, 1913. Bulgaria lost southern Dobrudzha to Rumania, but retained a parcel of territory known as Pirin Macedonia in the south-west. Serbia gained the bulk of Macedonia, Greece the rest of it – including Salonika and Mount Olympus, home of the Greeks gods of antiquity – plus most of western Thrace and numerous Aegean islands. A further Treaty of Constantinople, signed on 30th September, 1913, settled Bulgaria's conflict with the Ottoman Turks, losing eastern Thrace save for a snippet of coastal area in the north-eastern corner, but gaining a miserable strip of western Thrace with the undeveloped port of Dedeagach (now Alexandroupolis in Greece) which at least gave Bulgaria an outlet to the Aegean Sea. But it was obvious to all that Bulgarian sentiment, chastened and humiliated, would fester and later re-emerge to the detriment of Balkan stability. A few foreign military observers had been attached to the various Balkan armies as they advanced, retreated or sat-out sieges. All submitted reports to their respective military commands on the tactics used by the belligerents, of massed infantry assaults against fixed positions of trenches and barbed wire, and of the effects of the recently-supplied Krupps and Schneider-Creusot artillery pieces and Maxim-principle belt-fed machine-guns to support or break up such assaults. As with similar reports from observers in the earlier and more distant Russo-Japanese War of 1904–05, the comments and findings were virtually ignored by those respective military commands as being of minor significance, "unlikely to have much effect" on any larger conflict yet to come ... Despite the resentment that continued to simmer in the Balkans, there was some cause for mirth, albeit of the smirking kind. Shqiperi remained an independent state, its sovereign integrity guaranteed by Austria-Hungary and Italy – although the former politely ignored the partnership with the latter. And in a fine sense of Habsburg traditions, at the suggestion of Queen Elisabeth of Rumania, Vienna persuaded the Great Powers to appoint her nephew Wilhelm, Prinz zu Wied (1876–1945) to the post of ruler of the Principality of Albania. Both the departing Ottomans and the Albanians themselves greatly resented the appointment of a non-Muslim head-of-state. The Albanian term for this office was mbret (from Latin: Imperator), a word the tall, fair-skinned Teuton lordling of the House of Nassau-Weilburg would never be able to pronounce. A captain in the Imperial German Army's Großer Generalstab, Wilhelm's appointment as mbret and 'national redeemer' with homage title 'Skanderbeg II,' haphazard tutoring as to his new subjects' language, traditions and mores, his fitting of fanciful robes of state in Vienna, his transport via Habsburg state yacht Taurus escorted by three cruisers down the Adriatic to Durrës, and triumphal inauguration alongside his wife Sophie Fürstin Schönburg-Waldenburg as Princeshë e Shqipërisë on one of the few balconies the town possessed to a well-rehearsed crowd of hand-picked Albanian folk on 7th March, 1914 – all prompted a sceptic observer to comment, "I saw the beginning of a tragic operetta." This was totally confirmed when the mbret held his first State Council a few hours later. It addressed three problems: 1) What were the best shoots in the most secure areas? 2) What game was there to shoot? 3) What European princes should be invited to the hunt? Skanderbeg, the Albanian people's legendary champion who had vanquished the Ottoman Turks in 1467, would have looked on with open mouth and glazed eyes at the theatricality of it all. Sponsored by Vienna, this absurd comedia continued with the installation of a Xhandarmëria officered by ... Dutch officers, the formation subsquently being known as the 'Dutch Gendarmerie.' The Dutch 'policemen' were wholly unsuited to policing this homeland of the vendetta where inter-tribal rivalries were both rife and overt. They reacted heavy-handedly to peasant demonstrations and open rebellion against foreign influence(s) immediately ensued in the central and northern regions (fomented by Italy via their minister in Tirana), whilst Greece laid claim to much of southern Albania, insisting that as 'northern Epirus' it was historically part of Greece anyway; the Hellenic Army soon occupied most the region (excluding Berat and Korçë). And before mbret Wilhelm, besieged on board the Italian warship Misurata at Durrës for three months, could get his tongue round any Albanian vocabulary, The Bonny Situation prompted his departure from his Principality on 5th September, 1914 – deserted by the Great Powers' International Control Commission who had more pressing matters to attend to, such as The Great War. Wilhelm returned to Germany and rejoined the Großer Generalstab under the pseudonym 'Graf Kruja' (after the Albanian town of Krujë). The political upheavals and tribal strife which followed are outside the scope of this webessay, although it can be commented that the problems in Albania 1914–20 were a stereotypical microcosm of The Balkans as a whole, with outside interference being a constant. Like neighbouring Montenegro, Albania is the Ruritania of Rudolf Rassendyll! At the Versailles Conference in 1919 the exiled Wilhelm, Prinz zu Wied still tentatively claimed the throne as mbret, then decided to quit the miserable country altogether. The Albanians are purported to have offered the throne to England's brillant sportsman Charles Burgess Fry as "Charles III of Albania" ...! However, Shqiperi's independence was maintained – largely through the efforts of US President Woodrow Wilson – and the still-troubled nation was admitted to the League of Nations in 1920. Unrest continued 1920–24 until Achmed Bey Zogu became President in 1925, subsequently proclaiming himself King Zog I Skanderbeg III, in 1928. Zogu/Zog moved the young state's capital inland to Tirana – out of range of Italian naval artillery – and would indeed 'modernise' Albania to some extent (as much as the country's natural backwardness allowed) and, due to endemic political and social instability, would survive no fewer than fifty-five assassination attempts throughout his fourteen years as monarch!
Autumn and winter passed. Crises seemed a bit more distant and Vienna and Europe's other great capitals held their Christmas and spring balls and worried a tad less for the time being. In spring Emperor Franz Josef's annual bout of bronchitis laid him low for a couple of weeks, causing many in Vienna considerable anxiety that perhaps This Was The End for the venerable old boy. The stock market dipped along with the mood. But the Emperor had not managed to reign this long without his hardy constitution; by the end of May 1914 even this latest discomfort was beaten, he was back on his peculiar addiction to boiled beef and potatoes, and he was even taking walks in Schönbrunn's gardens with Frau Schratt. Correspondingly, the stock market had perked-up again, too. Franz Josef's legend would continue for a few more years yet ... perhaps to impatient Franz Ferdinand's ongoing irritation ... 
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The instrument of reforms would be his Militärkanzlerei. Appointed on 12th April, 1898, Franz Ferdinand's first aide-de-camp was Major Heinrich von Krauss-Elislago. This energetic officer immediately set about staffing the Chancellery with hand-picked officers – the brightest and the best, and outside the immediate orbit of the General Staff with its outmoded attitudes. Naturally, there was some resentment from senior command at this 'poaching' of officers from the various regiments and services. On 16th January, 1906, Major Alexander Brosch, Edler von Aarenau was appointed as the new head of the Chancellery, bringing terrific incentive and turning it into a centre for the exchange of political ideas and a discussion forum – a think-tank – for the changes that were planned for the future. Each officer of the Chancellery specialized in individual and in many cases not-immediately-military subjects: logistics, ordnance, foreign affairs, local politics, law, welfare, health, education, etc. This chancellery became known in popular parlance as the 'Clandestine Cabinet' or 'Opposition Cabinet.' In military matters, civilians throughout the Empire would chuckle amongst themselves of the conservative stiffness and correctitude of the Hofburg (Kaiser Franz Josef's camp) and the more liberal Belvedere (Franz Ferdinand's camp). On 19th November, 1908, its political influence and activities were consolidated further when its official title became the Military Chancellery of His Imperial and Royal Highness The General of Cavalry Archduke Franz Ferdinand. The Chancellery was given its own budget, and its officers received the prerogatives of senior commanding officers. Although Franz Ferdinand was able to effect military improvements, despite his new position of influence he still found it difficult to assert himself politically. The Emperor, in spite of his advanced age, was not the man to submit to external pressure, even if it were brought to bear by a close relative. He listened to the views of his advisors, but it was understandable that, after occupying the throne for more than six decades, the venerable All-Highest assumed to Know Better, preferring to make as few changes as possible in the affairs of state and government. And whatever changes were to be made, he would make them.
Meanwhile, back at Franz Ferdinand's military Chancellery, Major Alexander Brosch returned to regular active service at his own request in 1911, and he was succeeded by Oberst Karl Graf von Bardolff. He carried on the example set by Brosch and strengthened the Chancellery further with the addition of outstanding civil functionaries – in the creaky, bureaucracy-heavy Empire, persons of such ability were rare. And there was much work to be done. Opposition, obfuscation and obtuseness were everywhere. Franz Ferdinand and the Hungarians did not get on. At all. And it was mutual. Whereas the late Kaiserin Elisabeth was known as the greatest friend of the Magyars (it had, amongst others, been rumoured that the Empress and Julius Groef Andrássy had been having affairs at Gödöllö, her estate near Budapest) and the Emperor himself was in his later years to become a sympathetic King of Hungary (most of Franz Josef's 'empathy' with the Magyars was due to his desires to safeguard the integrity of the Monarchy), Franz Ferdinand was an open and vocal enemy of the Magyars, the matter of common language in the K.u.K. Armee still wrankling, which suggests he may have taken some dislikes and aversions too personally – "moustachioed gypsies" was one of his more printable descriptions of the Magyars! He exhibited against this mistrust – quite openly – considerable sympathy for the Slav peoples within the Empire. Perhaps some of this was influenced by his wife's family and circle, but Budapest's refusal to extend male suffrage throughout the lands of the Apostolic Kingdom of St. Stephen were a clear indication of both unilateral and centralized consolidation by the Hungarians – at the expense of the south-Slav peoples and of the Rumanians in Transsylvania. Nominally, Rumania was a potential future member of the Triple Alliance; it would no do to alienate Bucharest ... In his future government Franz Ferdinand's own military Chancellery would allow for greater independence – along the American federal model – for the many minorities within the Empire. Replacing the existing Austro-Hungarian dualism, 'Trialism' was one suggested parliamentary form, allowing representation not just by the existing Austrian and Hungarian Delegations, but by including Slav Delegations. Franz Ferdinand held frequent conferences with the leaders of the national minorities in the Budapest Parliament such as the Slovak Hodza, and the Rumanians Vajda Vojvod and Julius Maníu. "Cutting the Hungarians down to size" would also be achieved by another suggestion, by Rumanian professor Aurel Popovici, to remove Transsylvania and Croatia from the Hungarian Crown Lands. Or to pull the entire racial jigsaw of Austria-Hungary apart and reassemble, mostly along ethnic lines, into 
On 17th July, 1913 Franz Ferdinand had been nominated Inspector-General of all Armed Forces, which expanded his field of influence further [see 
