The Kaiser called Moltke "der traurige Julius" (sad Julius). High-echelon wags in Berlin claimed that he was not sad, just hurting with bruises from his falls from the saddle. As a source of many a grin, the horsemanship of the Chief of Staff contributed to the lighter side of official life in Berlin. One of his celebrated tumbles had been in front of the equestrian statue of his uncle, the Helmuth von Moltke, the great Field Marshal von Moltke, victor over Napoleon III in the war of 1870.
The comparison afflicted the lesser von Moltke all his life. So did the conflict between his duty, which must be remorseless, and his intelligence, which was considerable. "The next war," he had told the Kaiser a few years earlier, "will be a national war. It will not be settled by one decisive battle but will be a long wearisome struggle with an enemy who will not be overcome until his whole national force is broken… a war which will utterly exhaust our own people even if we are victorious." Yet here he sat, in May 1914, discussing the next war. It was von Moltke's job to map out the catastrophe of victory.
Of course General Conrad suffered from none of his colleague's pangs or qualms. He had journeyed to Carlsbad ostensibly to underline in person what he had written Berlin in several memoranda; namely that Serbia's provocations in Albania and elsewhere could no longer go unanswered. Bel grade, he told the German Chief of Staff, was presuming too much on the patience of Conrad's imperial masters (an allusion to Crown Prince Ferdinand's pacifism and the caution of Franz Joseph, now so sick). A day of reckoning was at hand. It would put the German-Austrian alliance to a test. Conrad said he wanted to make sure that he and his Berlin confrere agreed on all the mechanics of the partnership.
Conrad, in other words, was fishing for reassurance. If Russia and France rushed to Serbia's aid, could Austria count on instant, unconditional German support? Conrad did not ask the question outright. But it hung in the air. Obviously it was the reason for his visit.
In his response von Moltke had to take into account his Imperial master's philosophy. The Kaiser preferred easy braggadocio to nasty hard work like conducting a major war. And so von Moltke said that he hoped the world's peace would not be hostage to some petty Balkan adventurism. But he also said-swallowing a liver pill with a bitter grimace-that Kaiser Wilhelm was not the kind of leader who ever let his guard down. Germany could not ignore recent developments like those huge French loans to Russia and Serbia that were so plainly meant to finance armaments; or Russia's feverish overhaul of her transportation system to speed troop movements to the German border. The Triple Entente-von Moltke shrugged a weary shoulder as he referred to the camp consisting of Russia, France, and Great Britain-always carried on about German aggressiveness. These countries didn't realize that Kaiser Wilhelm would never raise his mailed fist except in defense of his or his ally's legitimate interests. All the hysteria in the Russian press, for example, about the naval implications of the recent widening of the Kiel Canal. True, German battleships could now steam directly from the North Sea to the Baltic. But that was a safeguard necessary in view of moves made by the Triple Entente-like the joint BritishRussian fleet maneuvers planned in the Baltic Sea.
Conrad nodded with a vengeance: just what he was always emphasizing in Vienna-the Central Powers were only catching up-in fact, not catching up fast enough, wouldn't His Excellency agree?
Von Moltke's counternod lacked his colleague's vim. Still, it was a nod. Yes, von Moltke said. Russia in particular was moving swiftly toward readiness. The later the showdown, the worse. "Before I took my leave," Conrad would write in his memoirs, "I again asked General von Moltke how long, in his view, the double war against Russia and France would last before Germany could turn with a strong force on Russia alone. Moltke: 'We hope to be finished with France six weeks after the commencement of operations, or at least finished to a degree that we can transfer our main strength to the East.' "
Colonel Edward House, Woodrow Wilson's adviser, did not eavesdrop on this scene. But he happened to be touring Europe at that time on a mission for the American President. He was to collect information for a plan by which Wilson might calm down the continent. And the American did catch the mood producing conversations such as the one in Carlsbad. "The situation is extraordinary," he reported on May 29, 1914, from Berlin to the White House. "It is militarism run stark mad. Unless someone acting for you can bring about a different understanding, there is some day to be an awful cataclysm. No one in Europe can do it. There is too much hatred. Too many jealousies."
It turned out that the White House must tend to belligerence much closer to home. American nationals had been abused in Mexico. In April, Marines had seized Vera Cruz. By May the United States stood on the brink of war with its Southern neighbor. Woodrow Wilson faced too much New World trouble to straighten out the Old.
Lenin in 1914. Culver Pictures, Inc.
Stalin ca. 1914. Culver Pictures, Inc.
Hitler amid the crowd acclaiming the German declaration of war on Russia. Date: August 1, 1914. Place: Odeonplatz, Munich. Culver Pictures, Inc.
Dapper Leon Trotsky's passport photograph, 1914.
Viktor Adler, leader of Austria's Socialist Party. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
A married couple in love: Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his morganatic wife, Sophie. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
General Conrad von Hotzendorf, Chief of Staff of Austria's Armed Forces. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
Emperor Franz Joseph strolling with his lady love, the actress Katharina Schratt, in Bad Ischl. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
Sigmund Freud with his daughter Anna on summer holiday in the Dolomites shortly before his confrontation with Jung at the International Psycho-Analytic Congress in Munich in September 1913. Mary Evans-Sigmund Freud Copyrights, Colchester
Chess players and kibitzers at the Cafe Central. Werner J. Schweiger
Ball at the Imperial Palace in Vienna. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
Caricature of Karl Kraus, Vienna's preeminent satirist, peddling his periodical, Die Fackel. Die Muskete
Emperor Franz Joseph in his hunting costume in Bad Ischl. Ost. Staatsarchiv-Kriegsarchiv
The assassin Gavrilo Princip (right) with his co-conspirator Trifko Graben (left) and a friend on a bench in Belgrade's Kalmedgan Park, May 1914. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
Count Leopold von Berchtold, Foreign Minister of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Bildarchiv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek
June 12, 1914, sixteen days before the assassination: The Kaiser visits Franz Ferdinand at Konopiste. From left to right: The Archduke in the uniform of the 10th Prussian Uhlan Regiment; his wife, the Duchess Hohenberg; the Kaiser in hunting costume, having his hand kissed by one of the Archduke's sons. Archiv Gunther Ossmann, Wien
The Chief of Serbia's Intelligence Bureau, Colonel Dragutin C. Dimitrijevic, flanked by aides. Also known by the code name "Apis," he was the head of the Serbian terrorist organization The Black Hand, which funded the assassins. B ildarch iv d. Ost. Nationalbibliothek