Day by day streams of people pass by the little church, but no one probably gives a thought to him who lies in peace and forgotten, and yet he, through many long years, embodied Austria, and his person was a common centre for the State that so rapidly was falling asunder.

He is now at rest, free from all care and sorrow; he saw his wife, his son, his friends all die, but Fate spared him the sight of his expiring Empire.

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[Illustration:  THE ARCHDUKE FRANZ FERDINAND Photo:  Pietzner, Vienna.]

Franz Ferdinand’s character held many sharply defined corners and edges; judging him objectively, no one can deny his great faults.  Though the circumstances of his death were so tragic, it may well be that for him it was a blessing.  It is hardly conceivable that, once on the throne, the Archduke would have been able to carry out his plans.  The structure of the Monarchy which he was so anxious to strengthen and support was already so rotten that it could not have stood any great innovations, and if not the war, then probably the Revolution, would have shattered it.  On the other hand, there seems to be no doubt that the Archduke, with all the vehemence and impulsiveness of his character, would have made the attempt to rebuild the entire structure of the Monarchy.  It is futile to comment on the chances of his success, but according to human foresight the experiment would not have succeeded, and he would have succumbed beneath the ruins of the falling Monarchy.

It is also futile to conjecture how the Archduke would have acted had he lived to see the war and the upheaval.  I think that in two respects his attitude would have differed from that taken.  In the first place, he never would have agreed to our army being under German control.  It would not have been consistent with his strongly developed autocratic tendencies, and he was too clever politically not to see that we should thereby lose all political freedom of action.  In the second place, he would not, like the Emperor Charles, have yielded to revolution.  He would have gathered his faithful followers round him and would have fallen fighting, sword in hand.  He would have fallen as did his greatest and most dangerous enemy, Stephen Tisza.

But he died the death of a hero on the field of honour, valiantly and in harness.  The golden rays of the martyr’s crown surrounded his dying head.  Many there were who breathed more freely on hearing the news of his death.  At the court in Vienna and in society at Budapest there was more joy than sorrow, the former having rightly foreseen that he would have dealt hardly with them.  None of them could guess that the fall of the strong man would carry them all with it and engulf them in a world catastrophe.

Franz Ferdinand will remain portrayed in history as a man who either loved or hated.  But his tragic end at the side of his wife, who would not allow death to separate them, throws a mild and conciliatory light on the whole life of this extraordinary man, whose warm heart to the very last was devoted to his Fatherland and duty.