THE TWO MINISTERS.
Baron Thugut took the count’s arm and led him back to his cabinet.
“I read a question in your eyes,” he said, smiling; “may I know what it
is?”
“Why, yes, your excellency,” replied Count Saurau.
“Let me ask you, then, what all this means? Why did you excuse the chief
of police, who evidently had not done his duty and been guilty of a lack
of vigilance? And why did you let these rascals go, instead of having
them whipped to death?”
“You were away from Vienna, count? You were absent from the capital
because you accompanied their majesties on their trip to Presburg, and
have returned only an hour ago. Am I right?”
“Perfectly right, your excellency.”
“Then you could not be aware of what has happened meanwhile here in
Vienna, and the chief of police could not have informed you of the
particulars. Well, then, he came to me and told me that an insurrection
had been planned against the two emperors--(I believe you know that the
people does us the honor of calling us the two emperors of Vienna), and
that the faction hostile to us was going to make an attempt to overthrow
us. A great deal of money had been distributed among the populace.
Prince Carl von Schwarzenburg himself had dropped some indiscreet
remarks. In short, the faction which hates me because I do not deem
seditious Belgium a priceless jewel of the crown of Austria, and do
not advise the emperor to keep that remote province at any price--the
faction which detests both of us because we do not join its enthusiastic
hymns in honor of the French Republic and the republican General
Bonaparte--this faction has hired the miserable rabble to represent the
people, to break my windows, and frighten me sufficiently to make me
ready and willing to adopt its insane policy. The chief of police came
to see me yesterday. He gave me an account of the whole affair, and
declared himself fully prepared to protect my palace, and to nip the
riot in the bud. I begged him not to do any thing of the kind, but to
look on passively and attentively, and only come to my palace after the
mob had entered it. I was very anxious for once to find out something
definite about the strength, courage, and importance of the opposing
faction. It is always desirable to know one’s adversaries, and to learn
as accurately as possible what they are capable of. Besides, it was a
splendid opportunity for the police to discover the sneaking demagogues
and ringleaders of the mob, and to take down their names for the purpose
of punishing them by and by, as we Europeans unfortunately cannot
imitate the example of that blessed Queen of Egypt, who took a thousand
conspirators by the tails, and, holding them in her left hand, cut off
their thousand seditious heads with one stroke of the sword in her right
hand. Unfortunately, we have to act by far more cautiously.”
“But why did you dismiss all the rioters this time without giving them
into custody?” asked the count, moodily.
“Why, we have them all by the tails, anyhow,” laughed Thugut, “for have
not we got the list of the names here? Ah, my dear little count, perhaps
you thought I would have gone in my generosity so far as to tear this
list, throw the pieces away, and avert my head, like the pious bishop
who found a murderer under his bed, permitted him to escape, and averted
his head in order not to see the fugitive’s face and may be recognize
him on some future occasion? I like to know the faces of my enemies,
and to find out their names, and, depend upon it, I shall never, never
forget the names I read on this list.”
“But for the time being, these scoundrels, having escaped with impunity,
will go home in triumph, and repeat the same game as soon as another
occasion offers.”
“Ah, I see you do not know the people at all! Believe me, we could not
have frightened them worse than by letting them go. They are perfectly
conscious of their guilt. The very idea of not having received any
punishment at our hands fills them with misgivings, and they tremble
every moment in the expectation that they will have to suffer yet for
their crime. Remorse and fear are tormenting them, and THEY are the best
instruments to rule a people with. My God, what should be done with
a nation consisting of none but pure and virtuous men? It would be
perfectly unassailable, while its vices and foibles are the very things
by which we control it. Therefore, do not blame the people on account of
its vices. I love it for the sake of them, for it is through them that
I succeed in subjecting it to my will. The idea of acting upon men by
appealing to their virtues, is simply preposterous. You must rely on
their faults and crimes, and, owing to the latter, all these fellows
whom we dismissed to-day without punishment have become our property.
The discharged and unpunished criminal is a sbirro--the police has only
to hand him a dagger, and tell him, ‘Strike there!’ and he will strike.”
“Your excellency believes, then, that even the ringleaders should not be
punished?”
“By no means. Of course some of them should be chastised, in order
to increase the terror of the others. But for God’s sake, no public
trials--no public penalties! Wenzel should be secretly arrested and
disposed of. Let him disappear--he and the other ringleaders who
were bold enough to come up here. Let us immure them in some strong,
thick-walled prison, and while the other rioters are vainly tormenting
their heavy skulls by trying to guess what has become of their leaders,
we shall render the latter so pliable and tame by all kinds of tortures
and threats of capital punishment, that when we finally set them free
again, they will actually believe they are in our debt, and in their
gratitude become willing tools in our hands to be used as we may deem
best.”
“By the eternal, you are a great statesman, a sagacious ruler!”
exclaimed Count Saurau, with the gushing enthusiasm of sincere
admiration. “Men grow wise by listening to you, and happy and powerful
by obeying you! I am entirely devoted to you--full of affection and
veneration--and do not want to be any thing but your attentive and
grateful pupil.”
“Be my friend,” said Thugut. “Let us pursue our career hand in hand--let
us always keep our common goal in view, and shrink back from no step in
order to reach it.”
“Tell me what I am to do. I shall follow you as readily as the blind man
follows his guide.”
“Well, if you desire it, my friend, we will consider a little how we
have to steer the ship of state during the next months in order to get
her safely through the breakers that are threatening her on all sides.
During the few days of your absence from the capital, various events
have occurred, materially altering the general state of affairs. When
you departed, I advised the emperor not to make peace with France
under any circumstances. We counted at that time on the regiments of
grenadiers whom we had sent to the seat of war, and who, under the
command of Archduke Charles, were to defend the defiles of Neumarkt
against the advancing columns of the French army. We knew, besides, that
the French troops were worn out, exhausted, and anxious for peace,
or that General Bonaparte would not have addressed that letter to the
Archduke Charles, in which he requested the latter to induce the Emperor
of Austria to conclude peace with France. In accordance with our advice,
the archduke had to give Bonaparte an evasive answer, informing him
that, in case of further negotiations, he would have to send to Vienna
for fresh instructions.”
“But, your excellency, you were firmly determined not to make peace with
France!”
“So I was, and even now I have not changed my mind; but we are
frequently compelled to disguise our real intentions, and events have
occurred, which, for the present, render peace desirable. You need not
be frightened, my dear count--I merely say, for the present. In my heart
I shall never make peace with France, and my purpose remains as fixed as
ever--to revenge Austria one day for the humiliations we have suffered
at her hands. Never forget that, my friend; and now listen to me. Late
dispatches have arrived. Massena, after a bloody struggle with our
troops, has taken Friesach, and advanced on the next day to attack the
fresh regiments of our grenadiers in the gorges of Neumarkt. Archduke
Charles had placed himself at the head of these regiments, firing the
courage of the soldiers by his own heroic example. But he was confronted
by the united French forces from Italy and Germany, and in the evening
of that disastrous day the archduke and his grenadiers were compelled
to evacuate Neumarkt, which was occupied by the victorious French. The
archduke now asked the French general for a cessation of hostilities
during twenty-four hours in order to gain time, for he was in hopes
that this respite would enable him to bring up the corps of General von
Kerpen, and then, with his united forces, drive the enemy back again.
But this little General Bonaparte seems to possess a great deal of
sagacity, for he rejected the request, and sent a detached column
against Von Kerpen’s corps, which separated the latter still farther
from our main army. Bonaparte himself advanced with his forces as far as
Fudenberg and Leoben. In order to save Vienna, there was but one course
left to the archduke: he had to make proposals of peace.”
“Did he really do so?” asked Count Saurau, breathlessly.
“He did. He sent two of our friends--Count Meerveldt, and the Marquis de
Gallo--to Bonaparte’s headquarters at Leoben, for the purpose of opening
negotiations with him.”
“Did your excellency authorize the archduke to do so?” asked the count.
“No, I did not, and I might disavow it now if it suited me, but it does
not--it would not promote our interests--and I know but one policy, the
policy of interest. We should always adopt those measures which afford
us a reasonable prospect of gain, and discard those which may involve us
in loss. Power alone is infallible, eternal, and divine, and power has
now decided in favor of France. Wherefore we must yield, and don the
garb of peace until we secure once more sufficient power to renew
hostilities. We must make peace! Our aim, however, should be to render
this peace as advantageous to Austria as possible--”
“You mean at the expense of France?”
“Bah!--at the expense of Germany, my dear little count. Germany is to
compensate us for the losses which peace may inflict. If we lose any
territory in Italy, why, we shall make it up in Germany, that is all.”
“But in that case, there will be another terrible hue and cry about
the infringement of the rights of the holy German empire,” said Count
Saurau, smiling; “Prussia will have a new opportunity of playing the
defender of the German fatherland.”
“My dear count, never mind the bombastic nonsense in which Prussia is
going to indulge--we shall take good care that nothing comes of it.
Prussia has no longer a Frederick the Great at her head, but the fat
Frederick William the Second--”
“But his life,” said the count, interrupting him, “I know for certain,
will last but a few days, at best for a few weeks; for his disease,
dropsy of the chest, you know, does not even respect kings.”
“And when Prussia has lost her present fat king, she will have another,
Frederick William--a young man twenty-seven years of age, volia tout!
He is just as old as General Bonaparte, and was born in the same year as
this general whose glory already fills the whole world; but of the young
heir of the Prussian throne the world has heard nothing as yet, except
that he has a most beautiful wife. He is not dangerous, therefore, and I
hope and believe that Austria never will lack the power to humiliate and
check this Prussian kingdom--this revolutionary element in the heart of
the German empire. The danger, however, that threatens us now, does not
come from Prussia, but from France, and especially from this General
Bonaparte, who, by his glory and his wonderful battles, excites the
wildest enthusiasm for the cause of the revolution, and delights the
stupid masses so much that they hail him as a new messiah of liberty.
Liberty, detestable word! that, like the fatal bite of the tarantula,
renders men furious, and causes them to rave about in frantic dances
until death strikes them down.”
“This word is the talismanic charm with which Bonaparte has conquered
all Italy, and transformed the Italians into insurgents and rebels
against their legitimate sovereigns,” said Count Saurau, mournfully.
“All Italy? Not yet, my friend. A portion of it still stands firm. The
lion of St. Mark has not yet fallen.”
“But he will fall. His feet are tottering already.”
“Well, then, we must try to make him fall in a manner which will entitle
us to a portion of the spoils. And now, my dear little count, we
have reached the point which claims our immediate attention. The
preliminaries of the peace have been concluded at Leoben, and until
peace itself is established, we should pursue such a policy that the
peace, instead of involving Austria in serious losses, will give her a
chance to increase her strength and enlarge her territory. We must keep
our eyes on Bavaria--for Bavaria will and must be ours as soon as a
favorable opportunity offers. If France should object and refuse to let
us seize our prey, why, we will be sure to revive the old quarrel about
Belgium, which will render her willing and tame enough.”
“But what shall we do if Prussia should support the objections of
France? Shall we satisfy her, too, by giving her a piece of Germany?”
“On the contrary, we shall try to take as much as possible from her; we
shall try to humiliate and isolate her, in order to deprive her of the
power of injuring us. We shall endeavor so to arrange the peace we are
going to conclude with France as to benefit Austria, and injure Prussia
as much as we can. In the north, we shall increase our territory by the
acquisition of Bavaria; in the south, by the annexation of Venice.”
“By the annexation of Venice!” ejaculated Count Saurau, greatly
astonished at what he had heard. “But did you not just tell me that
Venice still stood firm?”
“We must bring about her fall, my dear count; that is our great task
just now; for, I repeat, Venice is to compensate us on our southern
frontier for our losses elsewhere. Of course, we ought to receive some
substantial equivalent for ceding Belgium to France, and if it cannot be
Bavaria, then let it be Venice.”
“Nevertheless, I do not comprehend--”
“My dear count, if my schemes were so easily fathomed, they could not
be very profound. Everybody may guess the game I am playing now; but
the cards I have got in my hand must remain a secret until I have played
them out, or I would run the risk of losing every thing. But this time
I will let you peep into my cards, and you shall help me win the game.
Venice is the stake we are playing for, my dear count, and we want to
annex her to Austria. How is that to be brought about?”
“I confess, your excellency, that my limited understanding is unable
to answer that question, and that I cannot conceive how a sovereign and
independent state is to become an Austrian province in the absence of
any claims to its territory, except by an act of open violence.”
“Not exactly, my dear count. Suppose we set a mouse-trap for Venice, and
catch her, like a mouse, in it? Listen to me! We must encourage Venice
to determine upon open resistance against the victor of Lodi, and make
war upon France.”
“Ah, your excellency, I am afraid the timid signoria will not be bold
enough for that, after hearing of our late defeats, and of the new
victories of the French.”
“Precisely. It is of the highest importance, therefore, that the
signoria should hear nothing of it, but believe exactly the reverse,
viz., that our troops are victorious; and this task, my friend,
de-devolves upon you. Pray dispatch, at once, some reliable agents
to Venice, and to other parts of the Venetian territory. Inform the
signoria that the French have been defeated in the Tyrol and in
Styria, and was now in the most precarious position. Through some other
confidential messenger send word to Count Adam Neipperg, who, with some
of our regiments occupies the southern Tyrol in close proximity to
the Venetian frontier, that Venetia is ready to rise and needs his
assistance, and order him to advance as far as Verona. The Venetians
will look upon this advance as a confirmation of the news of our
victories. The wise little mice will only smell the bait, and, in their
joy, not see the trap we have set for them. They will rush into it, and
we shall catch them. For a rising in Venice will be called nowadays a
rebellion against France, and France will hasten to punish so terrible
a crime. The Venetian Republic will be destroyed by the French Republic,
and then we shall ask France to cede us Venice as a compensation for the
loss of Belgium.”
“By the Eternal! it is a splendid--a grand scheme!” exclaimed Count
Saurau--“a scheme worthy of being planned by some great statesman. In
this manner we shall conquer a new province without firing a gun, or
spilling a drop of blood.”
“No. Some blood will be shed,” said Thugut, quietly. “But it will not be
Austrian blood--it will be the blood of the Venetian insurgents whom we
instigate to rise in arms. This bloodshed will glue them firmly to us,
for no cement is more tenacious than blood. And now, my dear count,
as you know and approve of my plans, I pray you to carry them out as
rapidly as possible. Dispatch your agents without delay to Venice and to
the Tyrol. We have no time to lose, for the preliminaries of Leoben
only extend to the eighteenth of April, and until then Venice must have
become a ripe fruit, which, in the absence of hands to pluck it, will
spontaneously fall to the ground.”
“In the course of an hour, your excellency, I shall have executed your
orders, and my most skilful spies and agents will be on their road.”
“Whom are you going to send to the Venetian signoria?”
“The best confidential agent I have--Anthony Schulmeister.”
“Oh, I know him; he has often served me, and is very adroit, indeed. But
do not forget to pay him well in order to be sure of his fidelity, for
fortunately he has a failing which renders it easy for us to control
him. He is exceedingly covetous, and has a pretty wife who spends a
great deal of money. Pay him well, therefore, and he will do us good
service. And now, farewell, my dear count. I believe we understand each
other perfectly, and know what we have to do.”
“I have found out once more that the Austrian ship of state is in the
hands of a man who knows how to steer and guide her, as no other ruler
does,” said Count Saurau, who rose and took his hat.
“I have inherited this talent, perhaps, my dear count. My father, the
ship-builder, taught me all about the management of ships. Addio, caro
amico mio.”
They cordially shook hands, and Count Saurau, with a face radiant
with admiration and affection, withdrew from the cabinet of the prime
minister. A smile still played on his features when the footman in the
anteroom assisted him in putting on his cloak, whereupon he rapidly
descended the magnificent marble staircase which an hour ago had been
desecrated by the broad and clumsy feet of the populace. But when the
door of his carriage had closed behind him, and no prying eyes, no
listening ears were watching him any longer, his smile disappeared as if
by magic, and savage imprecations burst from his lips.
“Intolerable arrogance! Revolting insolence!” said he, angrily. “He
thinks he can play the despot, and treat all of us--even myself--worse
than slaves. He dares to call me ‘his little count!’ His little count!
Ah, I shall prove to this ship-builder’s son one day that little Count
Saurau is, after all, a greater man than our overbearing and conceited
prime minister. But patience, patience! My day will come. And on that
day I shall hurl little Thugut from his eminent position!”