Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 309

Chapter 309: Chapter 58: State Funeral

By 1859, constitutional talks had already become a hot topic in Austria, to the extent that even the birth of the Little Prince was relegated to a mere backdrop.

There was no helping it; the eldest son Frederick had already passed the age of two, and his position as Crown Prince was secured. As the second son, he attracted much less attention from the outside world.

The Vienna Palace still held the customary celebrations. In an age with limited medical technology, every family placed great importance on the next generation.

A celebration was held for the birth of nearly every core member, a sign of a family’s prosperity.

The Habsburg Family managed to stand out among the many European nobilities and establish a great empire thanks to their blessing of many children.

Not just the Habsburg Family, but in fact, all long-enduring families share one common trait: a strong ability to produce offspring.

The European nobility were not mere idlers; even in the 19th century, they had to be ready to go into battle at any moment, as it was their duty and obligation.

For families with few heirs, this was not so wonderful. A mishap on the battlefield, given the medical conditions of the age, could have one meeting God all too soon.

Then someone else would benefit. There was no doubt about it; noble families were intermarried in complex ways, and it was nearly always possible to find a successor among relatives in any lineage that had endured for hundreds of years.

Franz had learned his lesson and decided to let chance decide, combining all the potential names and drawing lots, actually allowing the little guy to pick for himself.

It wasn’t exactly picking, but the name written on the first piece of paper he grabbed would be the little guy’s name.

Empress Sophie objected, “Franz, could this be too frivolous? The little guy might grow up feeling that you did not take him seriously!”

Franz firmly denied it, “How could that be? It’s precisely because I respect his opinion that I let the little guy decide for himself!”

Empress Sophie, a bit confused, asked, “But how will you explain this to Frederick?”

Franz replied without shifting his composure, “No problem, we just won’t tell him.”

“If several pieces of paper are grabbed at the same time, should their names be combined?” asked Helen, puzzled.

Franz nearly broke into a cold sweat, finally understanding why some Europeans had such long names.

He hurriedly denied, “Of course not, if that happens, we simply start over.”

Such foolishness must be avoided at all costs; having an excessively long name was not a good thing. If a father couldn’t even remember his son’s name, that would be a complete disaster.

Archduke Carl, onlooker, suggested, “Let’s begin then, but I think it would be better if Frederick, his elder brother, helped out; the little one is probably too young to manage.”

Two glares shot his way, and Franz gave an awkward smile, realizing the newborn was unlikely to complete this epic task.

The brilliant solution he had painstakingly come up with instantly seemed childish. Allowing Frederick to do it was out of the question. If he actually went through with that, it would be a stain Franz could never wash away.

After some thought, Franz said, “Let’s leave it to God then; I’ll draw for the little guy!”

As soon as he spoke, he picked up a piece of paper that had been prepared in advance, opened it for all to see—the name was Peter.

After settling on the little guy’s name, Franz quickly left the scene.

…

“Your Majesty, the old Marshal passed away last night!”

The maid’s voice rang out with a hint of panic, and Franz’s expression changed. In Austria, there was only one person honored as the old Marshal—John Joseph Vincel Radetsky von Radetz.

By age, Marshal Radetsky was 92 years old, one year more than recorded in history. In an era where the average life expectancy was less than 40, he was remarkably long-lived.

Franz had been mentally prepared, but Marshal Radetsky’s departure was still somewhat abrupt, with no signs beforehand.

“Notify the Cabinet to prepare for a state funeral; I will personally preside over the Marshal’s funeral. Issue the command that the nation will mourn for 14 days.”

This Marshal, born into Bohemian nobility, dedicated his life to the glory of the Habsburg dynasty and never meddled in politics.

Even after being appointed Chief of the General Staff, he focused solely on his duties, never engaging in power struggles and remained loyal to the Emperor—a model soldier.

While alive, Franz, acting on monarch’s instincts, dared not overly praise him; but now that he was deceased, it was appropriate to honor him with the highest respects.

With Marshal Radetsky’s accomplishments, he certainly deserved such treatment, and Franz had no fear of anyone objecting.

Little Peter’s birth was indeed tragic. His birth was overshadowed by the constitutional talks, and his naming coincided with the death of Marshal Radetsky, leading to being overlooked by the public.

Franz was certain that tomorrow’s Vienna newspapers would be filled with news of Marshal Radetsky’s death and the state funeral.

The advent of the telegraph had brought the European Continent even closer together, and the news of Marshal Radetsky’s passing was not kept secret, quickly spreading far and wide.

Many were joyful, many were sorrowful.

For Austria, there was widespread grief, as the old Marshal was very popular. Many people spontaneously organized themselves to bid him farewell.

Napoleon III sent representatives to attend the funeral. A pure soldier always commands respect, even from former enemies.

Of course, time also played a role. So many years had passed since the anti-French wars that the hatred between the two sides had largely faded.

More likely, the French had too many enemies back then to bear a particular grudge against Austria; Britain and Russia were the main sources of enmity.

In the anti-French wars, Marshal Radetsky was just a pawn, despite having won several battles. Each side had its own loyalties on the battlefield; it wasn’t a matter of deep hatred.

If there were those who were joyful, perhaps the Kingdom of Sardinia was? They didn’t even send representatives. If not for Marshal Radetsky, they wouldn’t have lost so badly in the war against Austria.

After all, Austria’s situation wasn’t great either at that time, and without the old Marshal’s command, Franz wouldn’t have dared to counterattack.

Had it not been for the crushing defeat a decade earlier, losing two to three hundred thousand men, they wouldn’t be in such a tragic state now, utterly lacking the strength to resist.

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…

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As it turned out, Franz had overthought things; the Sardinian Government was not pleased at all.

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Prime Minister Cavour had been relieved of his duties. Without a doubt, this was certainly related to the Carbonari.

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Not only him, but all members of the Carbonari in the government had been dismissed and subjected to the delegation’s scrutiny.

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As for the high-ranking members of the Carbonari, by this time they had already fled. With such a significant incident, how could they demonstrate the supreme authority of the monarchy without executing a few as a warning?

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Franz was no Napoleon III, and he would definitely not be lenient on this issue. Since the Carbonari had planned the assassination, he intended to pursue the matter to the very end.

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Whether or not the Carbonari’s top ranks were involved, they had to take a walk to the guillotine. Failing to manage their subordinates was a crime in itself.

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If they hadn’t instigated or led these adolescent youths, considering their wits alone, it’s doubtful they would have come out as assassins.

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It would have been much better for them to stay in the Kingdom of Sardinia and demonstrate or even lay siege to Parliament. Franz would not have interfered, but devising an assassination plot was crossing the line.

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If he didn’t execute a few to serve as a warning, who knew when another assassin might appear?

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Had these people not fled, they would’ve needed fabricated charges. Now there was no need, as the Joint Investigation Team had already issued an arrest warrant.

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Catching people, Franz didn’t hold out much hope. In those days there were no identity registrations, and simply changing a name or moving to a place where no one knew them made them difficult to trace.

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Only the clever ones knew to flee at the first sign. Those who were slow to react were now unfortunate enough to find themselves entering prison.

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A young man turned up at the Cavour residence, his face a mask of despondency, and asked, “Count, what should we do now?

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My father has been arrested. The investigation team is demanding that we prove our innocence. If we can’t prove that we’re unrelated to the assassination, then we’re considered accomplices.”

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Cavour’s face was somber as he said, “Carder, I want to know if you truly planned this assassination, or, at the very least, did you know beforehand that they were going to carry out an assassination?

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This is extremely important. You must tell the truth so I can devise a way to save your father and the others.”

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Carder was near tears; on his honor, although he had good relations with the radical faction and participated in some of their activities, he genuinely knew nothing about this assassination plot.

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As for his father, there was even less need to mention him. A capitalist in the Kingdom of Sardinia, he rarely engaged in specific activities and only provided funding for the Carbonari’s operations.

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For the convenience of doing business, he had simply taken on a nominal position within the party.

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The tragic irony was that this honorary position, marginally prominent, had landed his father in the hands of the investigation team after several bigwigs had fled.

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“Count, I truly don’t know. You’re well aware that my father isn’t really a high-ranking party member and never gets involved in party matters.”

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Cavour nodded, knowing this to be true. During normal times, he would have unequivocally defended Carder’s father, as he was his financial backer.

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But the current situation was different; things had spiraled out of control. Even if he had wanted to save people, it was beyond his capability.

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One way or another, the mastermind behind the assassination had to be found, or there would be no way to explain it to the international community.

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If the case could not be cracked promptly, then the prolonged occupation of the Kingdom of Sardinia by the French Army would become an accepted reality.

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For now, the British kept the French in check from taking over the entire Kingdom of Sardinia. If the culprits could be found quickly, international pressure could be used to force the French to withdraw, though losing territory and paying indemnities were inevitable.

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Cavour explained, “The current situation is extremely complex, with representatives from different countries holding various positions, and we’ve been stripped of any say.

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The Austrians aim to uncover the plot’s puppeteers this time, and if there is an answer they can accept, followed by a formal apology, then the matter will be considered resolved.

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The trouble is with the French. They want to use this assassination to annex the Kingdom of Sardinia, and what’s worse, the Vienna Government has already tacitly approved of their actions.

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The Russians are out of reach, and as long as the Vienna Government does not object, the Tsarist Government won’t support us either. It’s said that Nicholas I is also incensed by this assassination.

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Fortunately, the British are still supporting us, and as long as we find the real instigators, there’s still room for maneuver.”

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Carder was no fool; he had read between the lines of Cavour’s implications. If the true instigators were not found, someone needed to be the scapegoat.

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And that scapegoat had better not be easy to bear—not only did they have to face the guillotine, but they also had to gain the approval of the investigation team.

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Those capable of taking the blame had already fled, and those remaining weren’t qualified enough—even if they wished, they lacked the credentials.

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“So you’re saying my father is not in danger for now?” Carder inquired.

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Cavour nodded and said, “For now, try to raise some money to influence the investigation team and explain the situation to them.

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Everyone knows the real masterminds have fled, and as long as they’re well fed, your father won’t be in danger.”

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As he spoke, Cavour himself didn’t believe his words. It was easy to negotiate with representatives of other countries who were indifferent as long as they received money; they would turn a blind eye.

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But would representatives from France and Austria dare to be lenient? If the true planners could not be found, the only solution would be to label the entire Carbonari as the culprits.

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Better to kill by mistake than to miss a perpetrator; as long as the suspects were executed, it didn’t matter who the real criminal was.

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For two conspiracy cases of regicide, executing a few hundred potential suspects was not worth mentioning.

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Do not expect anyone to stand up for them; no monarchist country would vote against this matter.

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Carder nodded reluctantly, understanding that at this point Cavour had lost his influence. Knowing that Prime Minister Cavour had been dismissed, he hadn’t held out much hope, but now that a way had been found, it was already a favorable outcome.

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Saving his father was one thing, but the real issue was the gravity of the charge. If involved in the regicide, not just his nouveau riche family would suffer, even established nobility would be doomed.