# 56

 Who was Franz Ferdinand?

Part Three

The gardens of Knoptisch were at their peak of color. Dozens of circular beds blazed

with multi-colored flora. Several beds were interspersed with roses of every color and

shape.

Herbie was aware of Franz Ferdinand’s hobby with roses. He prayed that he could

remember Latin names of several of the roses that he crammed for prior to leaving

Berlin. He figured that spouting such titles would win over Ferdie’s trust in him.

While walking about, Ferdinand was extraordinarily courteous to his guest. He chose

his words carefully and well. He did want to appear too pedantic or he might loose

Herbie’s interest.
Two terriers followed the duo, sniffing here and there, poising to urinate on a tree or

two.

 

“Permit me, Your Highness,” said Herbie, “may I inspect …”

Ferdie placed his index finger over Herbie’s mouth. “Please, while we two are

together enjoying ourselves, call me Ferdie. Is that all right with you?”

“Certainly, Your …,” hesitated Herbie. “If that is your wish, Ferdie.”
 

“My orchids are a difficult species to cultivate. It takes up a great deal of time, and too

often, I cannot find gardeners who know the intricacies of caring for them. It pains me

to lose even one of them, but over the years quite a few have died on me.”

In spite of Ferdie’s misgivings, circles of orchids, as far as eye could see, had an

allurement that captured the curiosity of passersby. They briefly enjoyed the mass of

colors and fantastic shapes. Ferdie was anxious to wander through his cherished rose

garden. When the two men reached the flowerbeds, several gardeners were busy

weeding in between rows. They stood up as the Archduke arrived. After they had

bowed to the visitors, they continued with their work.

“Just for the record,” said Ferdie, “roses are mentioned 5000 years ago by the
 

Sumerians of Mesopotamia. Can you imagine Mesopotamian women filling clay pots
 

with fresh cut roses and placing them about their abodes?”
 

“I wonder if they labeled them in cuneiform?” jested Herbie in an attempt to get his
 

host to smile. It did not work. Herbie began to think that there was no way he was

going to get ‘old stone face’ to melt.

Ferdie stopped before a circle of yellow roses. He motioned for Herbie to take a close

look at them.

“Are these not beautiful? How about their fragrance? Is it not divine? It is pure

perfume! You see, my good friend,” explained Ferdie, “Yellow roses, when raised by
 the ancient Romans, had a terrible smell. Thus, they are Rose Foetida. The Romans

denied entrance to secret meetings by fastening a rose at the entryway. Do you know

what subrosa means? It translates to “under the rose” and means to keep a secret.”



After a lengthy discussion of ancient varieties, the men stopped at another circle filled

with variegated roses. From out of his coat pocket, Ferdie took a penknife. He

carefully cut a stem from among the flowers.

“Look here, my Herbie, and count the petals.”

“I count five of them.”

Ferdie shook his head up and down as though motivating a schoolboy. “Early

Christians identified the five petals of the rose with the five wounds of Jesus Christ.

Later, the red rose became a symbol of the blood of Christian martyrs. Today, we give

different rose colors a symbolic meaning: Red is love and white is innocence purity.
 

Take note of this variety. They are pale pink to burgundy. Check their fragrance! Some
 

of these are from Empress Josephine’s gardens. She had an abiding interest in botany.”

Herbie saw his opportunity to capture Ferdie’s confidence.

 

“I believe that the French rose Gallicas originated in ancient Rome. However, my

favorites are Oriental tea roses which were introduced to Europe early last century.”

A distinct silence arose between the two men and Herbie felt that he had gone too far

showing off his knowledge of roses.

However, Ferdie took him by the hand and stopped at another circle.

“Can you tell me what these pink roses are?”

“Well,” said Herbie with all seriousness, “I believe these are Dog roses.”

“And what is their Latin name?”

 

“You know as well as I do, that it is Rosa canina.”

“And over there in that circle, what are they?”

“If you mean the yellow ones, they are Rosa pimpinellifolia.”

 

The Archduke stood with his arms akimbo. His countenance took on a look of

amazement. “Where in the world did you learn about roses?”

“My dear mother,” said Herbie, “loved her garden and allowed me to dig in the soil

before I could walk. She insisted that I learn the names of every flower and their Latin

names.”

“May God bless your beloved mother? I am truly astonished! Forgive me if I first took

you for ein Rohling! Now I know that I am not in the company of a yahoo, but instead

you are a man after my own heart!”

“Thank you,” replied a delighted Herbie. “It is very kind of you to say so. When you

asked me to accompany you through your garden, I was thrilled beyond imagination!”

Ferdie held his newfound friend’s hand and said, “In that case, let us continue our

journey into the wonderful world of roses! I have about one hundred varieties here at

Konoptisch. At the Belvedere, I grow about two hundred varieties.”

The “tour guide” explained that the rose was the best loved of all flowers. “It has been
 

so, as you well know, since ancient times. Of course, all present day roses are
 

descendants of wild roses.”
 

Herbie interjected, “Yes, and until the last century all roses had double blooms, but
 

now an inamorato can lay a single bright red rose in his lady’s bower increasing his
 

chances of love making.”

Unaffected by the poetic phrasing, Ferdie blandly asked, “Do you know why they call
 

them ‘tea roses?’”

“No, I don’t.”

“The tea rose imported from china had a tea-like fragrance.”

A couple of hours passed by and it was time to end their roving. Herbie left his
 

companion and checked on an almost black colored rose. He then stood behind Ferdie,
 

who rested on a wooden bench, his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his

palms.

Herbie received the distinct impression that the man was softly weeping. He then sat
 

down next to the Archduke and took the extreme risk of putting his arm around the
 

aristocrat’s shoulder.

“What is the matter, Sire? Have I said something that may have hurt your feelings?”

Ferdie lifted his head and looked at his companion, tears continued to roll down his

cheeks.

The experience gave Herbie a jolt.

Ferdie took hold of Herbie’s hand. “No, my dear friend, you have not done me harm.

In fact, this past hour has given me the opportunity to share my deepest feeling with
 

someone I can trust. Do you understand me?”

“I believe that I do. Let me promise you that any feelings you express to me will never
 

leave my lips!”
 

“Thank you, Herbie. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!”
 

His face had a smile upon it that few people were at liberty to observe.
 

Ferdie stood up and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that Herbie offered him. Then,
 

he walked over to a rose bed and deftly cut a single rose from among the group. This

he handed it to his friend.

“Take this thing of beauty that in your mind will be a joy forever. Press it between the

pages of your Bible and years from now, when I am long dead, take it out and think of

me and remember how you saved me from a dark moment in my life!”

 

The two men sat together placidly drinking in the pulchritude of their surroundings.
 

The cool, clean air made their faces tingle adding to their enjoyable experience.
 

Herbie calculated that this was a favorable time to elicit deep felt beliefs of the
 

Archduke.

“Have you ever been to France, Ferdie,” he asked.

“No, I have not,” replied Ferdie, firmly. “My attitude towards France is somewhat

negative, for I believe that she is the principal agent of the decline of Austria. She

began her nefarious efforts at the opening of my Uncle Franz Josef’s reign. I do know

that the French well understand my opinion of them. They think that I may be the

Louis the Eleventh of Austria! He was the inspiration for the foundation of an absolute

monarchy in France. As you well can imagine autocrats face a very insecure future in

Europe.”

“Do you have the same attitude toward the English?”

Ferdie offered a cigarette to his friend who accepted it. Both men sucked deeply and

let smoke gush from their mouths. Ferdie continued with his thoughts. “Today, my

sympathy is with Great Britain. I am impressed with things English; their life, habits,

their positivism, energy and respect for law and order. All these agree with my own

obviously serious and self-contained personality.”

“Actually, when I was young, I entertained a vain notion of marrying Princess Mary,

the eldest daughter of the then Prince of Wales. However, fate has a strange way of

affecting our lives. Instead of Mary, I found my beloved Sophie. Gott sei Dank!”

“Herbie, for your own instruction, it’s worth knowing that in life things always turn

out quite differently from what one thinks or wishes. Don’t forget it!”

“I will remember your words! How about Austria-Hungary?”

The future emperor carefully selected his words and declared, “I do fear for the future

of Austria. That damned Dual Monarchy of ours will be our downfall. Unless

fundamental changes happen, the Empire is doomed to destruction on the rock of
 

Hungary. When I begin my reign, and it will not be long from now, I will seek to

establish a federation of small independent states that would have the widest measure

of autonomy. Held firmly by the bond of a strong central government.”

Herbie said, “It sounds as though you are considering a model of the United States.”

“Yes,” replied Ferdie, “especially since Austria-Hungary is made up of many

nationalities. E pluribus unum, I say!”
 

“What are your feelings about Prussia?”
 

“Frankly, I never say a word about this in public, and I ask you to keep it under your

hat. I believe that the extraordinary increase in the power of Prussia is incongruous

with the unity of a mainly homogeneous German Empire. In its current situation,

Prussia enfeebles the whole organism and turns its vital force into false tracks. Believe

me,

one day this hypertrophy condition will be revealed by some terrible catastrophe!”

“What kind of catastrophe?”

 

“I am not certain, Herbie, but the disaster might very well come quite unexpectedly so
 

that its outcome would be highly destructive to European civilization!”

 

“I listen in amazement to what you say, Ferdie, for it is so new and strange to me that
 

such an event could happen! I have been told by many persons that the greatness of
 

Germany is due to the firm hand and predominance of Prussia and her ability to keep

the peace!”

Ferdie, snorted. “More than that, I fear that the ascendancy of Prussia is a danger for
 

Austria-Hungary!”

“The Dual Monarchy again! In God’s name why?”

 

“I base my thinking, my friend, on the fact that Prussia has made Germany’s greatness

a subject of growing fear to all her neighbors. With its ‘force-your-way’ system,

Prussia drives the Germans forward ruthlessly, without a thought, that they might

strike a brick wall against which it is useless for them to bloody their heads. It can only

be a matter of half dozen years before Germany reaches her goal.”

“If this is true,” queried Herbie, “what can be done to bring Prussia to its senses?”

The Heir to the throne paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “The essential

thing is to avoid a conflagration of Europe during that period. It is Germany’s business

to avert such a conflict if she does not want be thwarted in her steady economic rise.

She can just as easily fall from the heights she has already climbed at such a terrible

cost to her! You wait and see!”