The relationship between military and social organization has long been a topic of major concern and debate among scholars specializing in the history of the European middle ages. It is a topic of importance, for, as we who live in the modern world are aware, the ways in which any government organizes its people for warfare have many implications that go well beyond the strategy of a particular campaign or the tactics employed at a decisive battle. The rudimentary nature of the economies and governments in medieval Europe probably made the relationship between military and social organization more direct and, hence, more obvious than it is today. Peasants may have been illiterate, but they were cognizant of their obligation to serve in local levies and to provide food, fodder, and transport facilities for armies on campaign. Magnates who kept a retinue with them at all times and who garrisoned private fortresses were dependent on surpluses produced by the peasantry for the maintenance of these forces.

If scholarly articles could have intricate subtitles, as did treatises published long ago, the heading of this essay would be much longer. The larger scheme of things into which the career of Václav Eusebius z Lobkovic, head of the Habsburg government from 1669 to 1674, fits is armed service and nobility. Assuming that the latter was synonymous with what Marc Bloch called the “seignorial” class—i. e., Central Europe's dominant or ruling social group prior to the industrial epoch—one may argue that for more than a millennium, from Merovingian times onward, a symbiotic, if fluid and complex, relationship existed between the waging of war and the establishment of that control over land which constituted the tangible foundation for noble power and authority.

The War of Spanish Succession (1701–1714), one of the major international conflicts of the eighteenth century, sought to resolve the greatest diplomatic issue of the day: the partition of the Spanish empire. This essay focuses on the Austrian emperor Leopold I's diplomatic efforts in the courts of the Maritime Powers to obtain the Spanish inheritance during the first years of that conflict. The early years of the war (between 1701 and 1705) were a formative period in the development of Habsburg foreign policy. The problems that plagued the Maritime Powers after Leopold's death in 1705, such as the disputes over the deployment of troops, the differences of opinion over precisely how the Spanish empire should be divided and the policy to be followed in dealing with the Hungarian rebels and the elector of Bavaria, and the questions that arose over the alliances with Portugal and Savoy were all either existing or anticipated during the latter years of his reign.

Eighteen hundred and fifty-three was a fateful year in European diplomacy. The irritating and danger-laden Eastern Question once more moved out of the control of Europe's statesmen; and when the Ottoman and Russian empires locked in combat French and British leaders moved rapidly to form an alliance with the Turks. While objecting to implications by Tsar Nicholas that the government in Constantinople was “sick” and “dying,” the western nations testified to the validity of his remarks by their actions. Turkish moribundity was taken for granted in the next two years, and Turkey's allies were to treat her virtually as a satellite.

In terms of lessons to be learned from history, World War I remains a nearly unparalleled example of how not to do things. The origins and conduct of the war, as well as the major peace treaties ending the conflict, have become monuments to ineptitude. The circumstances surrounding the end of the war on the Austro-Italian front can take their rightful place in this panoply of bungling. Neither the Austrians in defeat nor the Italians in victory displayed attributes worthy of emulation, and, if anything is to be learned from these events, it is that haste to extricate oneself from a war can be as dangerous as haste to enter a war and that, contrary to popular belief, it takes two sides to make a peace.

In March, 1938, Germany annexed the Republic of Austria, ending that small country's brief experiment with democracy. Seemingly, the Austrian struggle to establish a national identity had been resolved. By proclaiming the reunion of Austria with Germany, the National Socialist Reich gave its answer to the riddle which had divided citizens of the First Republic for nearly twenty years: was Austria a “German state” and part of the German Reich, or was it a country with an independent identity? Anschluβ appeared to provide the solution.

On the morning of March 12, 1938, the German Eighth Army began its invasion of Austria. By early evening the takeover had proved to be remarkably successful, and that night a jubilant Hitler traveled to Linz to make his first speech on Austrian soil in the capacity of chancellor. The following day he issued a basic law of incorporation providing for Austria to become a province of the German Reich—an act that initiated Austria's tragic seven-year experience under Nazi control.