Secret History of To-day: Being Revelations of a Diplomatic Spy

Part 11

Chapter 114,190 wordsPublic domain

‘It is my business to know things, and I know this. Now, let me put it to your Majesty, what can you possibly gain by following up an inquiry which can have no tangible result? I say no tangible result, because there is simply no means by which you can arrive at the proof of what you suspect. And, if it were otherwise, how could your Majesty possibly turn the information to account?

‘You could not entertain the idea of confessing to the world that you had been duped. Consider, sire, what use the wits of the boulevards would make of such a revelation! Imagine the pencil of Caran d’Ache at work on the episode!’

I saw Wilhelm II. fidget uneasily, and I knew that my cause was gained.

‘On the other hand,’ I resumed, ‘suppose that you have harboured a suspicion which is unjust. You run the risk of affronting a submissive enemy--of insulting the fallen. And it would be too late to repair the injury to your own prestige; the Paris mockers would never abandon so good a joke.’

The Kaiser frowned and tugged at his moustache. It was evident that he only sought an excuse to yield.

‘Consider, sire, that what is merely a question of politics with you is one of religion with the poor woman you have humiliated to-day. Your end is gained; the Imperial House of China has humbled itself in the dust before the Hohenzollerns. If a religious scruple has caused this public act to be done by proxy, that is a secret known only to a few persons who, for their own sakes, will never dare to reveal it.’

By this time the Kaiser was as anxious to pass the matter over as he had been just before to investigate it.

‘If I consent to take your advice, and dismiss the suspicion I have formed, will you in turn tell me two things?’

‘I have no doubt I shall, sire.’

‘Then, why are you in Berlin, and how is it you know so much?’

‘I am here, sire, in the train of his Imperial Highness, as the confidential agent of the Dowager Empress of China.’

The Kaiser glared at me, biting his lip to repress the amused smile that struggled forth nevertheless.

‘M. V----, you are a wonderful man! I am not sure whether I ought to arrest you or to pardon you freely; however, I will cry quits if you will tell me who this fellow really is?’

‘He is, of course, sire, the brother of his Imperial Maj----’

Wilhelm II. strode to me, seized me by the shoulders, and thrust me out of the room.

VIII

THE ABDICATION OF FRANCIS-JOSEPH

I am now going to relate the story of what is, perhaps, the most extraordinary mission on which I have ever been employed. It will, I think, come as a surprise to many of the best-informed politicians on the Continent, including the highly placed personages whose schemes I was the means of detecting and defeating.

It was during the war between the British and Boers in South Africa, at a period which I do not care to specify more particularly, that I had the honour to receive a request to proceed without loss of time to Petersburg, and wait upon M. Witte. It is chiefly this Minister’s unjust dismissal that has provoked me to make this disclosure.

I was particularly gratified at being sent for by the great Russian Minister, because his action was a demonstration of the high confidence reposed in my loyalty. Although I was known to be a Pole by descent, and the favourite and confidant of the German Emperor, who had constantly employed me to combat Russian intrigues, yet M. Witte felt no fear in intrusting me with the secrets of Russian statecraft.

The moment I arrived in Petersburg, I went without waiting to change or refresh myself to wait on my client. Our interview took place, not at the Ministry of Finance, where M. Witte would have been surrounded by spies, but at a small private house in a suburb of the Russian capital.

The Finance Minister received me in a small study, the walls of which were lined with works on political economy and kindred subjects.

‘I have asked you to meet me here,’ the Minister explained, as soon as I had seated myself, and lighted the cigar which he pressed upon me, ‘because I don’t wish the fact that we are in communication to be known to a single person in the Russian Empire. In particular, it must be kept a strict secret from the Minister of War. It is against him that you will be acting really, and I shall have to ask you to pledge yourself that in case of your proceedings attracting his attention, you will lead him to suppose that you have been commissioned by some foreign Power.’

‘That will be easy,’ I replied. ‘Russia has plenty of watchful enemies. Shall I say Great Britain?’

M. Witte shook his head thoughtfully.

‘You would not be believed. No one will credit the British Government with intelligence enough to acquire knowledge of its enemies’ intentions. But that is a point which I can safely leave to your discretion if the occasion should arise.’

I contented myself with bowing, and waited for the Minister to proceed.

‘Will you permit me to ask you,’ he said politely, ‘if you have ever done any business on behalf of the Emperor of Austria-Hungary?’

‘I have been engaged by his Majesty on two occasions,’ I responded. ‘It was I who succeeded in suppressing the facts concerning the death of the Crown Prince Rudolf, and in establishing the currency of the version which has now been accepted as serious history. The truth,’ I added, ‘will never be known to any one outside the innermost circle of the Habsburg family; and I dare not tell it even to your Excellency. The other occasion I am not at liberty to mention.’

‘Perhaps I can guess it, though,’ the Russian Minister returned with a shrewd smile. ‘However, the important thing is that you are already personally known to the Emperor. It follows from that fact that he has learned to respect and trust you.’

I thanked M. Witte for this compliment by a low bow. At the same time I was a little on my guard.

‘You know so much of what goes on in Europe, M. V----,’ he resumed, ‘that perhaps it will be no news to you that Francis-Joseph has decided to abdicate the Dual Crown.’

This announcement, in fact, came as a complete surprise to me. Fortunately I had time to prepare to receive it calmly.

‘I will not pretend that it is news,’ was my response. ‘But I am always glad to have my own information confirmed. I shall be grateful for anything you may tell me on the subject.’

‘I am not going to keep anything from you,’ said the Minister. ‘The Emperor has made a private announcement of his intention to my own master, the Tsar, asking for his good offices on behalf of his proposed successor.’

‘The Archduke Ferdinand?’ I put in rashly.

M. Witte drew himself up, and gave me a suspicious glance.

‘You are too subtle, M. V----,’ he said coldly. ‘I have no doubt that you know perfectly well that it is the young Archduke Karl whom the Emperor has chosen to succeed him.’

I thought it better to be suspected of subtlety than nescience, and apologised.

‘I ought not to have spoken. I beg your Excellency to continue.’

‘What I am going to ask you to do may sound rather extraordinary. I want you to go to Vienna, see his Majesty, of course without letting him know that you have been in communication with me, and tell him that you suspect the Russian Government is playing him false. Then persuade him to employ you to find out what is in the wind.’

I stared at M. Witte in some bewilderment. Then I answered cautiously--

‘Do I understand you, sir, to propose that I am really to enter the service of the Emperor? Or am I to be your agent in the business?’

‘I want you to do both,’ was the answer.

‘I am to deceive the Emperor, it appears?’ I said with rising indignation.

‘Not in the least. You will accept his commission to ascertain the secret intentions and purposes of the Government of Russia, and you will execute that commission exactly as if you and I had never held this conversation.’

‘M. Witte, I must beg you to be plain with me. I never consent to act in the dark. What is your true motive in making this strange proposal to me?’

‘I think I have already told you,’ the Minister returned with perfect coolness. ‘The man whom I am combating is Count Lamsdorff.’

‘Your colleague?’

‘Exactly. My colleague, the War Minister.’

‘Let me see if I clearly understand your Excellency. The Emperor of Austria has given the Tsar private notice of his intention to abdicate? The Tsar has promised to preserve a friendly attitude? Nevertheless, the war party in the ministry, with or without the Tsar’s connivance, are secretly preparing to take advantage of the situation in some way? Your Excellency, knowing this, and disapproving of their plans, desires to put the Austrian Emperor on his guard, in order that the scheme may miscarry?’

M. Witte punctuated this speech with a series of nods.

‘And why?’ I demanded bluntly, throwing myself back in my chair.

The Russian statesman looked at me for a minute, as though trying to make up his mind whether it would be of any use to offer me a false excuse. I prepared to listen to something about the obligations of international honour and good faith.

‘Suppose I were to tell you that I am acting under the confidential instructions of my own Emperor, who lacks the courage to put his veto on the policy of the Grand Dukes?’

‘In that case your object can be attained much more simply. Procure me a line in the handwriting of Nicholas II. to Francis-Joseph, and I undertake to deliver it, and to burn it afterwards with my own hand.’

The Russian heaved a sigh of amused resignation.

‘You are too deep for me, M. V----. Very well, then, I will tell you.’ He bent forward and lowered his voice. ‘Russia is not ready to strike. A war now would mean the bankruptcy of the Empire. The others will not believe this, but I know it. I will not have my carefully laid plans shattered by them, for the sake of a miserable province like Galicia.

‘I am a statesman, not a pettifogger. With my railways I am reaching forward to clutch the great Empires of Asia. China is already within my grasp; India is being drawn closer year by year. When a thousand millions of men obey the sceptre of the Tsar, these petty European States will fall like ripe plums into our lap.’

The Russian spoke with real emotion. If I still retained any faint misgiving, it was not enough to restrain me from accepting the service required of me.

Within three days I found myself in the palace of Schönbrunn.

Of all my clients Francis-Joseph is the most unapproachable. Modern ideas of democratic equality find little encouragement in the Austrian Court. After the friendly bonhomie of the German Kaiser, and the tactful kindness of the King of England, the Austrian sovereign’s manner affects one disagreeably: it is like touching a lump of ice. Yet, according to his lights, the Emperor is gracious and even cordial, especially to those who approach him in his private hours.

I found him in his favourite room overlooking the Park. His Majesty did not invite me to be seated in his presence, an omission which indicated no unfriendliness.

‘I am pleased to receive you, monsieur,’ he said in a clear, stately voice. ‘The services you have rendered me entitle you to ask for an audience, and I have no doubt your reason for seeking it is a proper one. Be good enough to state it.’

‘I have taken the liberty of asking for this audience in order that I might offer your Majesty certain information about your forthcoming abdication.’

The Emperor could not repress a slight start. Lifting his eyebrows, he gazed at me steadily in the face.

‘I have communicated my _desire_ to abdicate,’ he said with a significant intonation, ‘to six persons only. Two of them are brother sovereigns; two are members of my own family; the other two are the Chancellor of the Empire and the Prime Minister of Hungary. Through which of them did you receive your information?’

‘Not one of the persons in your Majesty’s confidence has the slightest idea that I have heard anything whatever on the subject. I must respectfully beg your Majesty not to press me further.’

The aged Emperor was evidently much disturbed.

‘If what you say is true--and I do not doubt your word--the information must have reached you through an intermediary. That is to say, my purpose is known to at least eight persons, in short, to the whole world.’

I held my tongue. It is the art by which I have learned most of my secrets.

After a few minutes’ silent consideration, during which the frown on his face steadily deepened, his Majesty looked at me again.

‘What do you wish to tell me?’

‘I wish to put your Majesty on your guard.’

‘You have done that already, most effectually,’ he interrupted.

‘I have come to beg you to distrust the assurances you have received, no matter from what quarter, that your Majesty’s abdication will pass off quietly. And if I should be so fortunate as to possess your confidence, I would further request your Majesty to employ me on the service of ascertaining what the intentions of your neighbours really are.’

The Emperor perceived that I was keeping something back.

‘In what directions do your suspicions point?’ he inquired sternly.

‘Chiefly to Russia,’ I answered with intentional vagueness.

‘You are mistaken, I believe. You cannot know the nature of the assurances I have received. Besides, I am well acquainted with the position of Russia. M. Witte is the man who counts in the Russian Government, and he is all for peace. He needs time to develop his plans. The country is nearly insolvent. However much the war party may desire to make a snatch at Galicia, they will not be allowed to do so.’

‘Will your Majesty pardon me if I venture to make a proposition? I will undertake to ascertain the actual state of things at my own risk. If I am able to report that my suspicions are unfounded, your Majesty shall make me no acknowledgment whatever.’

Francis-Joseph threw me a displeased look.

‘I regret that you should have permitted yourself to speak to me in that way, monsieur. Be good enough to remember who I am. I do not employ servants without paying them. Your former services give you a claim to consideration; your position and character entitle you to be treated seriously; and I am not going to reject your present request. You may consider yourself retained to make this investigation. Have you anything else to say?’

This acceptance of my offer, glacial though it was, consoled me for the rebuke by which it was accompanied. Nevertheless, as I left the Emperor’s presence, I regretted that he had not been more frank with me. It was no doubt my own reticence which provoked this corresponding reserve on his Majesty’s part. But the result might have been unfortunate.

It will be noticed particularly that although the Emperor had practically admitted that it was his intention to vacate the throne, he had refrained from giving me the smallest hint as to the _date_ of the abdication.

I took my way towards the Galician frontier in the character of a British tourist, armed with a sheaf of the coupons of Messrs. Cook. I was aware that this disguise would serve better than any other as a cloak for prying and impertinent questioning.

Galicia, I need hardly say, is that part of Poland which fell to the share of Austria in the famous partition of the eighteenth century. Bitterly as the Poles hate the Russians, the two peoples are allied in language and blood, and Russia has always looked forward to incorporating the whole of the ancient realm of the Jagellons in her own dominions in course of time. The break-up of the Dual Monarchy would naturally be the signal for Russia to execute her designs on the Polish province of the Habsburgs.

In Galicia itself I found everything in a state of the most profound peace and security. There was the usual frontier garrison, but the camps showed no signs of special activity. I toured along the frontier almost from end to end, in a motor which I had ordered from Paris, and I came upon great stretches of country, several miles in extent, where a whole Russian army corps could have crossed the line without being observed, far less opposed.

At the end of this inspection, which lasted about a week, I crossed over to the Russian side.

I found myself received without apparent distrust. The legend of the mad Englishman on his motor-car had no doubt preceded me. The Russians do not dislike Englishmen, as individuals, in the way they dislike Germans. At all events I had no difficulty in making friends with many of the officers in command of frontier posts. They offered me hospitality, and showed no resentment at my somewhat daring exploration of their frontier.

At the first blush, everything seemed as peaceful on this side as on the other. The number of troops under arms was not excessive, and the men showed none of those signs of suppressed excitement which warn an experienced eye that some movement is in contemplation.

Presently, however, I began to remark an extraordinary number of telegraphic despatches arriving at the various posts. Special messengers seemed to come and go with a frequency that hardly seemed necessary in time of peace. At last, one night, I was roused from sleep by a sound which my ears were quick to recognise. It was the muffled rumble of an artillery train passing over the rough paving-stones of the small town in which I had stopped for the night.

I got up, softly drew back the curtain of the window, and cautiously peeped out. There, in the moonlight, rolled by gun after gun, followed by the caissons and all the supplementary outfit of a park of artillery.

They were heading southward, and the frontier lay only three miles away. I counted six batteries--thirty-six guns--the equipment of an army corps. When all had gone by I retired to rest again.

I rose at break of day, took out my car, and followed in the route of the cannon. The road conducted me without a turning straight to the frontier post, where I found a sleepy Russian sentry exchanging friendly greetings with a still drowsier Austrian one. A short way beyond stood the Austrian guard-house, with the men lounging on a bench outside the door in the sunlight, waiting for their coffee.

Everything was as if my vision of the night before had been a dream.

I turned my car round, and drove back slowly, scrutinising every hedge and tree along both sides of the road. Less than a mile from the post my attention was caught by a place on the left hand side, where the hedge appeared to have been mended or replanted. I ought to explain that the road was bordered at this point by a thick wood apparently impenetrable to anything bigger than a stoat.

I stopped the car, got down, and approached the hedge, examining every inch of the ground.

The first discovery I made was that the road itself had been recently mended. Creases in the surface, like the ruts made by heavy wheels in turning, had been filled up, and the dust from other parts of the road carefully raked over the spot.

Then, looking closely at the hedge, I perceived that the bushes were no longer growing in their place. The entire hedge had been cut away level with the ground for a space of several yards, and then replaced, the matted bushes being wired together so as to form a sort of gate or hurdle, like the furze hurdles in common use in England and other countries. The leaves were already beginning to droop from want of the nourishment supplied by the roots.

I drew up my car close to the hedge, and, mounting upon it, managed to scramble over into the wood, at the cost of some scratches.

I found myself in the midst of a pile of brush-wood which extended for some paces, completely covering the soil from view. Immediately beyond came a gap in the trees, not in front, but at one side, so that it was quite invisible from the road. Turning sharply towards the frontier, and running almost parallel with the high road, was a grassy drive or lane, about ten feet wide, and sufficiently free from undergrowth to admit the passage of an army.

With my heart thumping against my ribs, and almost holding my breath in my excitement, I stole along this path, which revealed, by a hundred tokens, that it had recently been used for heavy traffic. I followed its windings for I should think a mile and a half, when I found myself brought up abruptly by a post and rail fence, the posts being painted yellow on the side which faced me, and black on the reverse.

This fence was the boundary between the two empires. A narrow footpath bordered it on each side, so that the patrol might pass along it each day on his rounds.

As for the artillery, it seemed to have disappeared, to have been swallowed up by the earth.

I looked round me in all directions. The woodland road by which I had reached the frontier stretched away on the other side of the fence. This was in itself a suspicious sign. It scarcely seemed likely that two independent drives would have been constructed so as to meet in the heart of the forest, unless there was some traffic meant to pass that way. All at once the explanation burst upon me. It was a smuggler’s route!

The high tariffs of the Russian and Austrian empires have fostered an important contraband traffic. The soldiers who patrol the frontier are easily bribed by a share in the gains of the smugglers. What the Russian War Office had done was to bribe the smugglers in their turn to act as its allies in this strange invasion.

I have used the word invasion. Unless my deductions were wholly false, the thirty-six guns which I had seen passing my window in the night were by this time actually planted on the soil of Austria.

I sprang over the fence, and hurried forward on the still clearly revealed track.

At the end of an hour from my first entrance into the forest, my ear caught a low murmur which warned me that I was drawing near to some kind of encampment. Striking from the lane into the wood, I advanced, creeping from tree to tree. But I have had few opportunities of learning woodcraft, and there were keener ears, and more stealthy footsteps than mine in the forest. Suddenly I felt a powerful hand gripping my throat, a dark cloth descended over my eyes, and I was thrown violently to the ground.

I did not lose consciousness, while I was lifted up by the feet and shoulders, and carried a distance which I calculated at two hundred paces. After some twisting and turning I was set down, and the cloth was taken off my head. I sat up and looked round.

I found myself in a small hut or wigwam of boughs and woven rushes, surrounded by half a dozen dark-faced men who squatted between me and the doorway, the only opening by which light was admitted. One glance at my captors satisfied me that they were neither soldiers nor Russians. Reassured on this point I prepared to defend myself boldly.

The head man of the party appeared to be an old fellow with a short grey beard, who might have passed equally well in the uncertain light for a Wallach, a Slovene, a gipsy, or a Jew, but certainly not for an honest man of any race. Addressing myself to the chief of the smugglers, as I conceived him to be, in Polish, I asked--

‘Why have you dared to treat me like this?’

‘He is a Pole!’ The muttered exclamation solved my doubt as to the race of the smugglers. The language they used between themselves was Romany.

‘What were you doing in our wood?’ the old gipsy asked threateningly.