Produced by Al Haines.
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"The white-coats poured in their volley. Page 190.]
"_I shook my sword at the retreating figure._ Page364.]]
_The_ _Red, White, and Green_
_By_ _HERBERT HAYENS_
_Author of "A Captain of Irregulars," "A Vanished Nation," "A Fighter in Green," "An Emperor's Doom," &c. &c._
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS_
_THOMAS NELSON AND SONS_ _London, Edinburgh, and New York_ _1901_
By the same Author.
THE BATTLE AND THE BREEZE. Price 5s.A VANISHED NATION. Price 5s.A CAPTAIN OF IRREGULARS. Price 5s.A FIGHTER IN GREEN. Price 5s.IN THE GRIP OF THE SPANIARD. Price 5s.AN EMPEROR'S DOOM. Price 5s.CLEVELY SAHIB. Price 5s.UNDER THE LONE STAR. Price 5s.THE BRITISH LEGION. Price 3s. 6d.
T. NELSON AND SONS, _London, Edinburgh, and New York._
CONTENTS.
I. WILL THE REGIMENT MARCH? II. A SOLDIER OF THE RIGHT SORT III. THE INSURRECTION IN FULL SWING IV. VIENNA IN FLAMES V. ARRESTED VI. HARD WORK AT PESTH VII. A FIGHT IN THE MOUNTAINS VIII. A DRAWN BATTLE IX. THE RETREAT X. ON THE SICK LIST XI. GOeRGEI TO THE RESCUE XII. A SORROWFUL VICTORY XIII. A VISIT FROM STEPHEN XIV. THE QUARREL WITH COUNT BEULA XV. HOW STEPHEN CARRIED THE FLAG XVI. I JOIN THE STAFF XVII. THE WOUNDING OF GOeRGEI XVIII. GOeRGEI FORGETS HIS WOUND XIX. SENT SCOUTING XX. NEARLY CAPTURED XXI. THE LAST BLOW XXII. THE SURRENDER XXIII. COUNT BEULA DISLIKES HANGING XXIV. THE END OF COUNT BEULA XXV. IMPRISONED AT ARAD XXVI. LED OUT TO EXECUTION XXVII. AN AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN ALLIANCE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
"THE WHITE-COATS POURED IN THEIR VOLLEY," _Frontispiece_"I SHOOK MY SWORD AT THE RETREATING FIGURE," _Vignette_"FROM THE WOODS THEY POURED A HOT MUSKETRY FIRE UPON THE DEFENDERS""MY HEART LEAPED TO MY MOUTH AS I SAW STEPHEN FOREMOST""GOeRGEI AND HIS STAFF RODE TO THE FRONT, WHERE THE RUSSIAN GENERALS METTHEM"
THE RED, WHITE, AND GREEN.
CHAPTER I.
_WILL THE REGIMENT MARCH?_
"Cowardly rats, deserting a sinking ship!" exclaimed my brother Stephen;"I would not raise my little finger to help them!"
"It seems to me this insurrection will do good to our cause."
Stephen pushed his chair back from the breakfast-table, and stood up.
"We are Hungarians," said he, "and we fight for our nation. We want noassistance from these Austrian rebels. If they care a kreuzer for theircountry, why don't they rally round the emperor?"
Laughing at Stephen's expression of disgust, I crossed the room to thelittle window, and looked into the street.
It was the morning of October 5, 1848, and still fairly early, yet thepeople of Vienna were pouring by in hundreds, all eager, restless, andapparently too excited to think of such an ordinary thing as breakfast.
Some were mere lads, pale-faced and spectacled, but armed with sword andpistol, and looking very resolute; these were students from the publicschools and universities. Mingling with these enthusiastic youths werea few shopkeepers, a more considerable body of respectably-dressedartisans, numbers of National Guards in uniform, and, most significantof all, the men from the slums--bare-headed, dirty, gaunt, but carryingknives, hatchets, clubs, and other death-dealing weapons.
Thus far, this year of 1848 had produced most remarkable changesthroughout Europe.
Louis Philippe, King of the French, had been driven into exile; Sicilyhad revolted against King Bomba; insurrections had arisen at Madrid; thewhole of Germany had been, and was, in a state of turmoil; the Prussianshad conquered Poland afresh.
Thrones had crumbled into dust, and monarchs and rulers had been sweptaway like chaff before the wrath of the people.
But of all the European countries, none in this wild gale of popularfury was so severely tried as the proud empire of Austria.
In northern Italy, the veteran Radetzky was upholding the black andyellow flag of Austria against a host of insurgents; in Bohemia, theSlavs, bent on founding a great Slav nation, were suppressed withdifficulty by the Austrian general, Prince Windischgratz; my own gallantland of Hungary had drawn the sword to win back the ancient rights ofwhich it had been deprived by the Viennese government; while here atVienna, in the very heart of the empire, thousands of men were workingtheir hardest to overthrow their own Kaiser.
With these people neither Stephen nor I had the least sympathy. We wereHungarians, but royalists, loving our country with a fond and faithfulaffection, yet wishful to preserve our loyalty to the emperor-king.
News of the dispute between Hungary and Austria had reached us inLondon, and we had just arrived at Vienna on our homeward journey.
My brother Stephen was eighteen years of age, and my senior by twelvemonths.
In figure he was tall and elegant; his face was regularly oval, with apale complexion; his forehead was high and broad, his mouth small andwell formed. His black hair fell in long curls almost to his shoulders;he wore a black moustache in the Hungarian fashion; and his eyes weredark and fiery.
A true Magyar, every inch of him, he might have stood beside KingStephen of glorious memory.
He came to join me at the little window, and we were still gazingintently at the throngs below, when some one, hurrying up the stairway,knocked at the door.
"Come in!" I cried, and turning round added hastily, "Why, it isRakoczy, looking as miserable as a caged bird! Are the folks too busydemonstrating to get you some breakfast?"
The newcomer closed and locked the door, and came over to us.
John Rakoczy, or "John the Joyous," as we called him, was, likeourselves, a Hungarian, though there was a slight mixture of Germanblood in his veins.
He was a handsome man, several years older than myself, with chestnuthair, dark-blue eyes, and a frank, open, jovial face.
His merry laugh and light-hearted manners had earned him the title of"John the Joyous;" but on this October morning his face was gloomy andtroubled.
He placed himself between us, so that he could speak to both withoutraising his voice.
"Heard the news?" he asked.
"We've heard the row!" I replied. "These poor people will strain theirthroats."
"The city's in a state of insurrection. The students and the Nationalsand the Burgher Guards are going to overthrow the government."
"Barking dogs never bite," said Stephen sarcastically.
"These will soon--they're only sharpening their teeth; and the Richtersare to help them."
"The Richter Grenadiers?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. Our fellows have beaten Jellachich, who is in sore straits; andLatour, the war minister, has ordered the grenadiers to march to hisassistance. They are in a state of mutiny, and the citizens are backingthem up."
Earlier in the year, Croatia, under its Ban or Governor, BaronJellachich, had revolted from Hungary; and though at first the emperorhad denounced the rising, he had now taken Jellachich under hisprotection.
"Count Latour can take care of himself," said Stephen; "he is a man, nota lath."
Our companion rubbed his hands together softly, and, lowering his voiceto a whisper, said,--
"This affair is serious. Don't ask how I obtained the information, butyou can rely on its truth. A secret meeting was held last night in thecity. The chiefs of the e
xtreme party were present, and to-morrow, whenthe regiment marches out, has been fixed for a general rising."
"This is interesting to the Viennese," said my brother, "but not to us."
"Wait a bit. You know what happened a few days since in Pesth?"
Stephen's face flushed with shame, and I hung my head.
On September 28, Count Lamberg, the Austrian commander-in-chief, hadbeen seized in the streets of Pesth by an armed rabble, and cruelly putto death--a foul crime that would long stain the fair name of Hungary.
"To-morrow," Rakoczy continued, "the victim will be Count Latour, andthe butchers will cry, 'Long live Hungary!'"
"What do we want with such brutes?" cried Stephen passionately. "Cannotwe fight and win our battles with our own swords? We shall be disgracedfor ever by this rabble!"
"The count must be put on his guard," I exclaimed. "I will go to hishotel and inform him of the plot."
"It will be useless trouble," said Stephen. "One man cannot fightagainst thirty thousand, and the count is too brave a veteran to yield."
"He must yield or die," said John. "I have learned enough to know that.The chiefs of the revolution have decided to kill him unless he recallsthe order for the regiment to march."
I put on my hat; the others did the same, and accompanied me into thestreet.
A crowd of students rushing by caught sight of our costume, andsurrounding us, cried, "Long live Hungary!"
Much to their surprise, we bared our heads and responded by a hearty,"Long live King Ferdinand!" for, although our country was at war withAustria, we remembered that Austria's emperor was Hungary's king.
In the square on the north side of the hotel we stopped, and I gave myweapons to Stephen, so that the guards might not suspect me of havingany design on the life of the minister.
"Tell him," said Rokoczy earnestly, "that unless he gives way his lifeis lost."
I left them standing at the corner of the square, and went on alone tothe courtyard of the hotel.
Hundreds of citizens stood about, all armed and gesticulating violently,but as yet offering no personal mischief to any one. Several times Ihad to stop while they cheered for Hungary and Kossuth; but at length,after considerable pushing and squeezing, I reached the gate.
There were few soldiers about, and these could certainly have beenoverpowered by one determined rush of the mob outside; but the time forthat had not yet come.
At first the officer on duty made some difficulty about passing me; butat length I was sent under escort across the courtyard, and admittedinto the building.
Here still further delay occurred. Count Latour was busy; he could notsee me; it would be better to call another time, or deliver my messageto the count's secretaries.
Patience, however, is a useful weapon, and by its aid I found myself atlast in the audience-chamber, where the minister was engaged in animateddiscussion with his colleagues.
"Well, young sir?" exclaimed the noble-looking veteran sharply. "Yournews must be of extreme importance to justify your persistence."
"You shall judge for yourself, count, if these gentlemen will leave usfor five minutes."
At this the others smiled, and one muttered something about a Magyaradventurer.
I had entered the room with peace in my heart; but this insult wasabominable, and I loudly demanded to know if they took me for anassassin.
A little old man with a white beard and small ferret eyes stopped myhigh-flown speech by saying, "Remember Lamberg!" and at those words, sofull of meaning, I hung my head in shame.
Would that fatal act be thrown into the teeth of the Magyars for ever?
I think that the count must have pitied me, for he said kindly,--
"What is your name, my young friend? It is needless to ask yournationality."
The question restored my self-respect, and I raised my head proudly.
"George Botskay has little reason to be ashamed of his name," I said.
"A son of the late General Botskay?"
I bowed in reply, and the count addressed a few words to his colleagues,who retired one by one with evident reluctance.
"Now, my lad," exclaimed the fine old soldier, "what is it you wish tosay? I am very busy, and cannot spare much time."
"I have come to warn you, count," I began, but at that he stopped me.
"The son of General Botskay should have known that I take no warningfrom rebels," he said sternly, and made a movement to ring the bell.
"One moment, count; you must listen to me. I have learned by accidentsomething you ought to know. The city is up in arms"--Latoursmiled--"and the grenadiers are to be prevented from marching."
"I have issued the order," he said, as if that settled the matter.
"It will not be obeyed. The leaders of the insurrection met last nightin secret, and made their arrangements. A revolution has been decidedon, and you, count, are to be the first victim."
"Why do you tell me this?"
"That you may be prepared."
"Are you on our side?"
"No. I must fight for my own country."
He took a sheet of note-paper from a drawer, and placing it in my hand,said, "Read!"
It was an anonymous letter, warning him that unless he recalled theorder, the people would put him to death.
"It came this morning," he remarked quietly. "The writer will learn myanswer to-morrow."
Gazing at the well-knit figure and the calm, proud face of the sturdyveteran, I felt convinced that he would not move a finger to avert theimpending tragedy.
"You seem sorry," he said, "but there is little to grieve about. I am asoldier, and know how to die at my post. Still, I thank you for tryingto help me; and may the time soon come when Austrians and Hungarianswill once more join hands as brethren and loyal subjects of theemperor."
"Amen to that!" I replied fervently, and the proud old noble, shaking myhand, himself led me to the door.
At the head of the stairs I turned and glanced at him again. He wavedhis hand cordially; his features were calm and unruffled, his air wasserene, as though he knew nothing of the dangers which threatened him.
Brave old count! After all, he chose the better part!
Rakoczy and my brother waited at the corner of the square, but they sawat once that my errand had been in vain.
"He will die at his post, if need be," I said, as we got clear of thecrowd.
"What else could he do?" asked Stephen. "You would not expect thesoldier of half a century to run away from the armed rabble."
"Well," exclaimed Rakoczy, "we have done our best to save him; now wemust look to ourselves. I suppose you two intend joining the army?"
"Yes; but we will wait and see what happens to-morrow."
"If you could stay a few days longer, we might all go together."
This proposal suited me capitally; and as Stephen did not wish to losethe speaker's company, it was agreed that we should remain in Viennatill the end of the week.
"We aren't likely to miss much," said Rakoczy. "Kossuth can do nothingtill the Honveds have been properly drilled. At present they are nobetter than these worthy citizens who shout 'Long live Hungary!' soabominably."
The Honveds, or Home-Defenders, were practically peasants drawn from theplough, without drill or discipline, or even knowledge of arms beyondtheir scythes and pikes and cumbrous old-world guns.
No general would expect them to stand for an instant against theAustrian veterans; and, as Goergei, our great leader, humorously said,he reckoned much more upon their legs than their arms.
However, they were brave fellows at bottom, and those who laughed atthem had reason to repent of it before the war ended.
During the afternoon Rakoczy left us to attend to his private affairs,so Stephen and I strolled about the city watching the actions of theexcited people.
It was easy to tell that something out of the common was going tohappen; and when we returned to our rooms I felt more sorry than everfor the brave old coun
t, who so proudly defied the enemies of hismaster.
But to help him further was beyond our power; we could only wait andwatch the events of a new day.
It was certain that Latour would not withdraw his order; but whether hewould meet force by force and command Count Auersperg to bombard thecity, or offer himself as a sacrifice to the fury of the mob, we did notknow. From midnight till about three o'clock a dead silence broodedover the town, but when daylight fairly broke Vienna was in arms.
Rakoczy joined us at breakfast, and by his advice we ate a substantialmeal before venturing out, as the time of our return was very uncertain.
"Now," said he, on rising from the table, "pistols in working order?There will be a big _kravalle_ before the day's over."
"If it's nothing worse than that, so much the better," I replied. "Astreet brawl doesn't hurt."
Stephen locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and we all threewent down into the street, where the people were packed like herrings ina barrel.
Men, women, and children of all classes were there--the shopkeeper, theartisan, the labourer, and the dweller in the slums who had come outexpressly for plunder, and who would as soon cut a Hungarian as anAustrian throat. One of this last class, however, a brawny fellow,hatless and coatless, with arms bare to the elbow, and carrying amurderous-looking axe, professed great sympathy with the Magyars, andattached himself to Stephen, much to the latter's disgust.
John and I walked directly behind, laughing to see my rather fastidiousbrother in the society of the _soi-disant_ patriot.
"Keep a brave heart, young sir!" we heard the unwashed one say, "andtrust to us. We'll see you get your rights. Down with the emperor andup with the people! It's our turn now!" and he put one armaffectionately round my brother's waist.
"Bravo, comrade!" cried John, winking at me. "The brave Viennese willtake care of Hungary!"
"Right you are, brother!" shouted back the brawny ruffian. "We'll joinhands. Long live Hungary and the Viennese! No more emperors! No morekings! We'll have a republic and be our own masters!"
"And not do any more work!" said John.
"No; we've had our share. Let the rest take a turn;" and he gaveStephen another squeeze to show his goodwill.
Happily for my brother's peace of mind, we had by this time reached theend of the narrow street, and a vigorous push by the crowd parted usfrom our enthusiastic friend.
We had started with the intention of going to the hotel of the warminister, but it soon became plain that we had no choice in the matter;we were compelled to go wherever the mob carried us.
One thing I noticed which rather astonished me--the National Guards andthe armed students had disappeared. Here and there one certainly caughtsight of a citizen warrior, but they were very few, and I wondered whathad become of the others.
"We shall soon find out," said Rakoczy, to whom I put the question."There's mischief brewing somewhere. Listen to, that!" and a great shoutof "Long live the Grenadiers!" rose on the air. The people,sufficiently excited hitherto, now became frantic. They waved theirarms, and cheered the mutinous regiment wildly.
"Link arms!" exclaimed Rakoczy, and it was well we took his advice. Atremendous rush nearly took us off our feet, and we were carried alongin the midst of the tumultuous throng.
"Tabor! Tabor!" shouted the crowd. "Make for the bridge of Tabor!That's where they cross! Hurrah for the Grenadiers! Down with theemperor! Death to Latour! Long live the brave Hungarians!"
As we approached the bridge of Tabor the excitement became intense. Wewere pushed this way and that, and, but for the linking of arms, we mustquickly have lost sight of one another.
"Keep a firm grip," cried John. "Look out! There goes the military!"and instantly the cheers for the Grenadiers redoubled.
"There's a cavalry regiment escorting them," I exclaimed; "and look!Some one has brought up a couple of guns!"
"They want twenty," said Stephen. "Ah! now for it!"
At the farther end of the bridge the National Guards and the UniversityLegion were drawn up in battle array, waiting to oppose the passage ofthe troops.
The mob pressed to and fro like the unquiet waves of the sea; now wewere thrown almost bodily into the ranks of the soldiers, again carriedback many yards.
The windows of all the houses anywhere near were filled by groups ofrioters, who levelled their guns ostentatiously at the loyal troops,while the _sans-culottes_ in the streets roared approval.
At the moment my brother spoke we had a full view of the situation.
The Grenadiers, with their escort, had reached the bridge-head. Behindthem were a body of infantry and the artillerymen with a couple of guns.An officer in general's uniform commanded the whole.
Suddenly the Grenadiers broke loose, and, with triumphant cries of "Longlive Hungary!" crossed the bridge at the _pas de charge_.
The students and Nationals received them with open arms; the general saton horseback, immovable as a bronze statue. Then a smile, half of pity,half of scorn, appeared on his face. He opened his mouth to give anorder, when, from the farther side of the bridge, rang out a sharpreport, and the Austrian fell dead.
Stephen tore himself from me, his eyes flashing, his handsome facecrimson with anger.
"You cowards!" he cried, and would have run to the bridge had notRakoczy dragged him back by main force. Only just in time!
Crash! And a storm of grape whizzed through the air as the gunnersdischarged their two pieces.
The insurgents who were advancing to the charge wavered; another dose ofiron hail, and they fell back in disorder.
But the loyalists were few, their enemy legion.
Their brave leader, too, was dead; and, though they fought valiantly fora time, the end was certain.
The students especially behaved like madmen. Shot and shell torethrough their ranks, making long, narrow gaps, but the survivors pressedon; the mob picked off the loyalists; the men at the windows shot themdown; the Nationals eagerly backed up their comrades; the bridge wasgained; there was a desperate, confused, hand-to-hand struggle round theguns, and then a loud shout of victory echoed and re-echoed through theexultant multitude.
"To the gates! Seize the gates!" they yelled; and presently another cryrose--one which we had been expecting every moment to hear.
"Death to Latour!" bawled a huge, hairy-throated fellow; and werecognized our acquaintance of the morning, whose butcher's axe was wetwith blood.
"That's the word!" cried another. "Death to Latour, and no moreministers!"
"Forward! Forward! Long live the republic! Up with the tricolour!"
"To the hotel!" said Stephen feverishly. "We may yet help to save him."
Alas! if we were powerless in the morning, we were equally so now. Themob carried us whithersoever it listed. We were flung bodily from sideto side, shot down narrow streets like stones from a catapult, jammedtogether without power of movement, then pushed forward again by themasses in the rear.
Rakoczy soon disappeared. Stephen was yards in front, separated from meby hundreds of yelling madmen. I was panting and breathless, and feltas if some one had beaten me well with a stout stick.
A man just before me--a small, pale man with wide-open, frightenedeyes--went down, and was lost in the crowd; it was like dropping a pin.
Had his life been worth the value of the universe, no one could havesaved him; as it was, he simply dropped, like a stone into the water,and the crowd pressed over him.
To add to the uproar, the tocsin sounded, and everywhere it seemed as ifthe soldiers were discharging their muskets.
In one street people were busy erecting a barricade. The head of thecrowd, seeing this, wished to turn back; they might as well have triedto turn the stars in their course.
The street was narrow and sloping; unfortunately, we shot into it fromthe higher end, and there was no stopping.
Those in front raised a cry of despair as they were hurled against thehalf-built barricade, the
workers on the other side of which ran intothe houses, while the living torrent swept on.
Crash went the structure--logs of wood, bodies of carts, stuffed sacks,piles of stones, and human beings all mingled together! I caught abrief glimpse of Stephen wedged into the corner of a doorway, looking asif he would be squeezed to death, but there was no helping him.
I was off my feet, supported only by the bodies of my nearestcompanions, one of whom moaned in pain.
Through the _debris_ we were hurled, swept round the corner to the left,and dropped, panting and bruised and battered, in the Place of St.Stephen.