THE INTERVIEW.
“Excuse me, your excellency,” said he, “but this time they are assuredly
in earnest. The people are storming the front door--the hinges are
beginning to give way, and in fifteen minutes, at the latest, the
scoundrels will have forced an entrance!”
“You had no business to close the door,” said the minister. “Who ordered
you to do so? Who ordered you to barricade the house, as if it were a
fortress--as if we had a bad conscience and were afraid of the people?”
The steward looked aghast, and did not know what to reply.
“Go down-stairs at once,” continued the minister; “order the porter to
open the door, and admit everybody. Show the people up-stairs; and you
rascals who are standing there with pale faces and trembling knees,
open the two folding-doors so that they can get in without hurting each
other. Now do what I have told you.”
The steward bowed with a sigh expressive of the agony he felt, and
hurriedly left the room.
The footmen, meanwhile, hastened to open the folding-doors of the
dining-room, as well as those of the antechamber. The two gentlemen
at the table obtaining thereby a full view of the landing of the large
staircase, directly in front of the open door of the first room.
“And now, Germain,” said Thugut to the footman behind his chair,
“now let us have our breakfast. Be wise, my dear count, and follow my
example; take some of this sherbet. It cools the blood, and, at the same
time, is quite invigorating. Drink, dear count, drink! Ah! just see, my
cook has prepared for us to-day a genuine Turkish meal, for there is a
turkey boiled with rice and paprica. The chief cook of the grand vizier
himself furnished me the receipt for this exquisite dish, and I may
venture to assert that you might look for it everywhere in Vienna
without finding it so well prepared as at my table.”
Heavy footsteps and confused voices were now heard on the staircase.
“They are coming--they really dare to enter here!” said Count Saurau,
trembling with anger. “Pardon me, your excellency; I admire your heroic
equanimity, but I am unable to imitate it. It is an utter impossibility
for me to sit here calmly and passively, while a gang of criminals is
bold enough to break into your house!”
“I beg your pardon, count; these people did not break into my house, but
I voluntarily opened the door to admit them,” said Baron Thugut, coolly.
“And as far as your official position is concerned, I pray you to forget
it for half an hour, and remember only that I have the honor of seeing
you--a rare guest--at my table. Let me beg you to take some of that
fowl; it is really delicious!”
Count Saurau, heaving a loud sigh, took a piece of the fowl which
Germain presented to him, and laid it on the silver plate that stood
before him. But just as he was going to taste the first morsel, he
hesitated, and looked steadily through the open doors. Several heads
with shaggy hair and flashing eyes emerged above the railing of the
staircase; many others followed--now the entire figures became visible,
and in the next moment, from twenty to thirty wild-looking men reached
the landing, behind whom, on the staircase, a dense mass of other heads
rose to the surface.
But the loud shouts, the fierce swearing and yelling, had ceased; the
awe with which the intruders were filled by the aristocratic appearance
of every thing they beheld, had hushed their voices, and even the
intrepid orator, who previously, on the Kohlmarkt, had excited the
people to commit acts of violence, and brought them to the minister’s
house--even he stood now hesitating and undecided, at the door of the
dining-room, casting glances full of savage hatred and rage into the
interior.
Thugut took apparently no notice whatever of what was going on; his
breakfast entirely absorbed him, and he devoted his whole attention to a
large piece of the turkey, which he seemed to relish greatly.
Count Saurau merely feigned to eat, and looked steadfastly at his plate,
as he did not want the rioters to read in his eyes the furious wrath
that filled his breast.
The men of the people did not seem to feel quite at ease on beholding
this strange and unexpected scene, which all of a sudden commenced to
cool their zeal and heroism, like a wet blanket. They had triumphantly
penetrated into the palace, shouting vociferously, and quite sure that
the minister would appear before them trembling and begging for mercy;
and now, to their utter amazement, they beheld him sitting very calmly
at the breakfast-table!
There was something greatly embarrassing for the poor men in this
position. They suddenly grew quite sober, and even intimidated, and
many of those who had ascended the staircase so boisterously and
triumphantly, now deemed it prudent to withdraw as quietly as possible.
The number of the heads that had appeared above the balusters was
constantly decreasing, and only about twenty of the most resolute and
intrepid remained at the door of the ante-room.
At length, the speaker who had addressed them on the Kohlmarkt,
conscious of his pledges and of the reward promised to him, overcame his
momentary bashfulness and stepped boldly into the ante-room, where the
others, encouraged by his example, followed him at once.
Baron Thugut now raised his eyes with an air of great indifference from
his plate and glanced at the men who with noisy steps approached through
the anteroom. Then turning to the footman behind him, he said, in a loud
voice:
“Germain, go and ask these gentlemen if they want to see me? Ask them
likewise whom you will have the honor to announce to your master?”
The men, overhearing these words, grew still more confused when the
servant in his gorgeous livery stepped up to them, and, with a most
condescending smile, informed them of the errand his master had given to
him.
But now it was out of the question to withdraw, as there was nothing
left to them but to arm themselves with whatever pluck and boldness they
had at their command in order to carry out the role they had undertaken
to play in the most becoming manner.
“Yes,” said the speaker of the Kohlmarkt, loudly and resolutely, “we
want to see the minister; and as for our names, I am Mr. Wenzel, of the
tailors’ guild; my neighbor here is Mr. Kahlbaum, also a tailor; and
others may mention their own names, so that this polite gentleman may
answer them to his excellency.”
But none of the other men complied with this request; on the contrary,
all looked timidly aside, a misgiving dawning in their minds that such a
loud announcement of their names might not be altogether without danger
for them.
Germain did not wait for the final conclusion, but hastily returned to
his master, in order to inform him of what he had heard.
“Mr. Wenzel, of the tailors’ guild, Mr. Tailor Kahlbaum, and the other
gentlemen, whatever their names may be, are welcome.” said the minister,
aloud, but without interrupting his meal for a single moment.
The men thereupon advanced to the door of the dining-room. But here a
proud and imperious glance from the minister caused them suddenly to
halt.
“I believe you have breakfasted already?” asked Thugut.
“Yes, we have breakfasted already,” replied Mr. Wenzel, in a surly
voice.
“Well, unluckily, I have not, and so I request you to let me finish
my breakfast first,” said Thugut, attacking once more the wing of the
turkey on his plate.
A long pause ensued. The men stood in the most painful embarrassment
at the door, where the minister’s stern glance had arrested them, and a
most unpleasant apprehension of what might be the result of this scene
began to take hold of their minds. Flashing sword-blades and muskets
aimed at their breasts would not have frightened them so much as the
aspect of the calm, proud, and forbidding figure of the minister, and
the utter indifference, the feeling of perfect security with which he
took his breakfast in full view of a seditious mob filled the rioters
with serious apprehensions for the safety of their own persons.
“I am sure a good many soldiers and policemen are hidden about the
palace,” thought Mr. Wenzel, “and that is the reason why he permitted us
to enter, and why he is now so calm and unconcerned; for as soon as we
get into the dining-room, those fine-looking footmen will lock the door
behind, and the soldiers will rush out of that other door and arrest
us.”
These pleasant reflections were interrupted by another terrible glance
from the minister, which caused poor Mr. Wenzel to tremble violently.
“Now, gentlemen, if you please, come in; I have finished my breakfast.”
said Thugut with perfect coolness. “I am quite ready and anxious to hear
what you wish to say to me. So, come in, come in!”
The men who stood behind Mr. Wenzel moved forward, but the tall,
herculean figure of the member of the tailors’ guild resisted them and
compelled them to stand still.
“No, I beg your excellency’s pardon,” said Mr. Wenzel, fully determined
not to cross the fatal threshold of the dining-room, “it would not
become poor men like us to enter your excellency’s dining-room. Our
place is in the anteroom--there we will wait until your excellency will
condescend to listen to us.”
This humble language, this tremulous voice, that did not tally at all
with the air of a lion-hearted and outspoken popular leader, which Mr.
Wenzel had assumed in the street, struck terror and consternation into
the souls of the men who had so rashly followed him into the palace.
The minister rose; his broad-shouldered figure loomed up proudly, a
sarcastic smile played on his angular and well-marked features; his
shaggy white eyebrows convulsively contracted up to this moment--the
only outward symptom of anger which Thugut, even under the most
provoking circumstances, ever exhibited--relaxed and became calm and
serene again, as he approached the men with slow and measured steps.
“Well, tell me now what you have come for? What can I do for you?” asked
Thugut, in the full consciousness of his power.
“We want to implore your excellency to give us peace. The poor people--”
“Peace with whom?” calmly asked the minister.
“Peace with France, your excellency--peace with General Bonaparte,
who is said to be a magician, bewitching everybody, and capable of
conquering all countries by a glance, by a motion of his hands, whenever
he wishes to do so. If we do not make peace, he will conquer Austria
too, come to Vienna, and proclaim himself emperor; whereupon he will
dismiss our own wise and good ministers, and give us French masters. But
we would like to keep our emperor and our excellent ministers, who take
care of us so paternally. And that is the only reason why we have come
here--just to implore your excellency to have mercy with the poor people
and make peace, so that the emperor may return to Vienna, and bring his
state treasury back to the capital. Yes, men, that is all we wanted, is
it not? We just wanted to pray your excellency to give us peace!”
“Yes, your excellency,” shouted the men, “have mercy with us, and give
us peace!”
“Well, for angels of peace, you have penetrated rather rudely into
my house,” said the minister, sternly. “You got up a riot in order to
obtain peace.”
“It was merely our anxiety that made us so hasty and impetuous,” said
Mr. Wenzel, deprecatingly. “We ask your excellency’s pardon if we have
frightened you.”
“Frightened me!” echoed Thugut, in a tone of unmeasured contempt. “As if
you were the men to frighten ME! I knew that you would come, and I knew,
too, who had bribed you to do it. Yes, yes, I know they have paid you
well, Mr. Wenzel, to get up a riot--they have given you shining ducats
for leading a mob into my house. But will their ducats be able to get
you out of it again?”
Mr. Wenzel turned very pale; he uttered a shriek and staggered back a
few paces.
“Your excellency knew--” he said.
“Yes, I knew,” continued Thugut, sternly, “that men who have no regard
for the honor and dignity of their country--men who are stupid enough to
believe that it would be better to submit voluntarily to the dominion of
the French Republic, instead of resisting the demands of the regicides
manfully and unyieldingly--that these men have hired you to open your
big mouth, and howl about things which you do not understand, and which
do not concern you at all.”
At this moment, shrieks of terror and loud supplications, mingled with
violent and threatening voices, and words of military command were heard
outside.
The men turned anxiously around, and beheld with dismay that the
staircase, which only a few minutes ago was crowded with people, was now
entirely deserted.
Suddenly, however, two men appeared on the landing, who were little
calculated to allay the apprehensions of the rioters, for they wore
the uniform of that dreaded and inexorable police who, under Thugut’s
administration, had inaugurated a perfect reign of terror in Vienna.
The two officers approached the door of the anteroom, where they were
met by Germain, the footman, who conversed with them in a whisper.
Germain then hastened back to the door of the dining-room and walked in,
scarcely deigning to cast a contemptuous glance on the dismayed rioters.
“Well, what is it?” asked Thugut.
“Your excellency, the chief of police sends word that his men are posted
at all the doors of the palace, and will prevent anybody from getting
out. He has cleared the streets, besides, and dispersed the rioters. The
chief of police, who is in the hall below, where he is engaged in taking
down the names of the criminals who are yet in the house, asks for your
excellency’s further orders.”
“Ah, he does not suspect that his own chief, the minister of police is
present,” said Thugut, turning with a smile to Count Saurau, who, being
condemned to witness this scene in the capacity of an idle and passive
spectator, had withdrawn into a bay-window, where he had quietly
listened to the whole proceedings.
“My dear count, will you permit the chief of police to come here and
report to yourself?” asked Thugut.
“I pray you to give him this permission,” replied the count, approaching
his colleague.
Germain hastened back to the policemen in the anteroom.
“And what are we--?” asked Mr. Wenzel, timidly.
“You will wait!” thundered the minister. “Withdraw into yonder corner!
may be the chief of police will not see you there.”
They withdrew tremblingly into one of the corners of the ante-room,
and did not even dare to whisper to each other, but the glances they
exchanged betrayed the anguish of their hearts.
The two ministers, meanwhile, had likewise gone into the ante-room, and,
while waiting for the arrival of the chief of police, conversed in a
whisper.
In the course of a few minutes, the broad-shouldered and erect figure
of the chief of the Viennese police appeared in the official uniform so
well known to the people of the capital, who, for good reasons, were in
the utmost dread of the terrible functionary. When the rioters beheld
him, they turned even paler than before; now they thought that every
thing was lost, and gave way to the most gloomy forebodings.
Count Saurau beckoned the chief to enter; the latter had a paper in his
right hand.
“Your report,” said the count, rather harshly. “How was it possible
that this riot could occur? Was nobody there to disperse the seditious
scoundrels before they made the attack on his excellency’s palace?”
The chief of police was silent, and only glanced anxiously at Baron
Thugut. The latter smiled, and turned to the count:
“I beg you, my dear count, don’t be angry with our worthy chief of
police. I am satisfied he has done his whole duty.”
“The whole house is surrounded,” hastily added the chief. “Nobody can
get out, and I have taken down the names of all the criminals.”
“Except these here,” said Thugut, pointing at Mr. Wenzel and his
unfortunate companions, who vainly tried to hide themselves in their
corner. “But that is unnecessary, inasmuch as they have given us their
names already, and informed us of their wishes Then, sir, the
whole honorable meeting of the people is caught in my house as in a
mouse-trap?”
“Yes, we have got them all,” said the chief. “Now, I would like to
know of his excellency, the minister of police, what is to be done with
them.”
“I beg you, my dear count,” said Thugut, turning to Count Saurau,
“let me have my way in this matter, and treat these men in a spirit of
hospitality. I have opened them the doors of my palace and admitted
them into my presence, and it would be ungenerous not to let them depart
again. Do not read the list of the names which the chief holds in his
hand, but permit him to give it to me, and order him to withdraw his
men from my house, and let the prisoners retire without molestation, and
with all the honors of war.”
“Your will shall be done, of course, your excellency,” said the count,
bowing respectfully. “Deliver your list to the prime minister, and go
down-stairs to carry out the wishes of his excellency.”
The chief delivered the list of the captured rioters, and left the room,
after saluting the two dignitaries in the most respectful manner.
“And we--? may we go likewise, your excellency?” asked Mr. Wenzel,
timidly.
“Yes, you may go,” said Thugut. “But only on one condition. Mr. Wenzel,
you must first recite to me the song which the honorable people were
howling when you came here.”
“Ah, your excellency, I only know a single verse by heart!”
“Well, then, let us have that verse. Out with it! I tell you, you will
not leave this room until you have recited it. Never fear, however; for
whatever it may be, I pledge you my word that no harm shall befall you.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Wenzel, desperately. “I believe the verse reads as
follows:”
“‘Triumph! triumph! es siegt die gute Sache!
Die Turkenknechte flieh’n!
Laut tont der Donner der gerechten Sache,
Nach Wien und nach Berlin.’”
[Footnote:
“Triumph! triumph! the good cause conquers
The despots’ minions flee!
The thunders of the just cause Reach Vienna and Berlin!”
This hymn was universally sung at that time (1797) in all the German
States, not merely by the popular classes, but likewise in the exclusive
circles of the aristocracy. It is found in a good many memoirs of that
period.]
“Indeed, it is a very fine song,” said Thugut, “and can you tell me who
has taught you this song?”
“No, your excellency, I could not do it. Nobody knows it besides. It was
printed on a small handbill, and circulated all over the city. A copy
was thrown into every house, and the working-men, when setting out early
one morning, found it in the streets.”
“And did you not assist in circulating this excellent song, my dear Mr.
Wenzel?”
“I? God and the Holy Virgin forbid!” exclaimed Mr. Wenzel, in dismay.
“I have merely sung it, like all the rest of us, and sung it to the tune
which I heard from the others.”
“Well, well, you did right, for the melody is really pleasing. Such
songs generally have the peculiarity that not a single word of them is
true; people call that poetry. Now, you may go, my poetical Mr. Wenzel,
and you others, whom the people sent with this pacific mission to me.
Tell your constituents that I will this time comply mercifully with
their wishes, and give them peace, that is, I will let them go, and not
send them to the calaboose, as they have abundantly deserved. But if you
try this game again, and get up another riot, and sing that fine song
once more, you may rest assured that you will be taken to jail and
taught there a most unpleasant lesson. Begone now!”
He turned his back on the trembling citizens, and took no notice of
the respectful bows with which they took leave of him, whereupon they
retired with soft but hasty steps, like mice escaping from the presence
of the dreaded lion.
“And now, my dear count, as we have finished our breakfast, let us
return to my cabinet, for I believe we have to settle some additional
matters.”