CHAPTER III.
_THE INSURRECTION IN FULL SWING._
For some time the flames from the burning building leaped high into theheavens, and, spreading out, lit an immense area by their glow; butgradually the vivid red grew paler, and we concluded that theinsurgents, having captured the arsenal, were now trying to extinguishthe fire.
A nearer view, however, made it plain that our informant had broughtfalse news, as the garrison still maintained a fierce fight against thestudents and the National Guards. The scene was more striking even thanthat at the hotel of the minister of war. The darkness of the night wasillumined by the flames which continually burst forth from one part ofthe arsenal, while the flashes from hundreds of rifles showed that theroofs and windows of the adjoining houses were occupied by theinsurgents.
"Not much chance for the garrison," I said. "All these houses commandthe arsenal."
Still the unequal contest continued; the soldiers stuck to their posts,and while some threw water on the flames, the others returned the fireof the rioters.
The sharp-shooters on the roofs and at the windows suffered little, buttheir allies in the street, being more exposed, by no means escapedlightly.
All through the night the struggle lasted, but between five and sixo'clock in the morning it became plain to every one that thepowder-magazine was in imminent danger of being blown up.
Then the brave garrison agreed to an honourable capitulation; and asthey marched out, the people, with savage cries of triumph, flungthemselves into the building.
The students and many of the National Guards did their utmost to savethe magazine; of the others, some sought for weapons, while theremainder appeared bent solely upon destruction.
After a tremendous amount of work, the fire was got under, but really Iexpected to see it break out again in a dozen different places.
The more foolish of the rioters played the strangest antics, and havingobtained both rifles and ammunition, found pleasure in firing them atanybody or anything.
All the treasures were brought into the streets, and the swords of thegreat Scanderbeg and Prince Eugene became the property of men of thelowest classes.
We saw, without being able to prevent it, the helmet of that Francis theFirst who was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, tossed from one tothe other of the ignorant mob, and watched the destruction of the armouronce worn by the mighty Wallenstein and the faithful Daun.
We could not find Rakoczy; so, after searching a long while, we decidedon returning to our lodging.
The streets were less crowded now than they had been during the lasttwenty-four hours. Numbers of people, tired by the fighting andexcitement, had gone to rest; others, shocked by the excesses committed,had withdrawn; and indeed the broadening daylight made every one lookmore or less ashamed of the night's events.
From the talk of the rioters we learned that the emperor had leftSchoenbrunn with his family for Olmutz, and that Count Auersperg hadsent four thousand troops to form an escort. The rest of the army hadbeen stationed in the gardens of the Schwartzenberg and Belviderepalaces on heights commanding the city.
But for the order to cease firing, these same soldiers would most likelyhave nipped the insurrection in the bud.
Still we did not meet Rakoczy; but a scrap of paper pushed beneath thedoor of our room relieved our anxiety concerning him.
"8 a.m.--Call again later. Don't leave before seeing me.--J.R."
"Now we can go to bed with easy minds," I said, passing the paper toStephen.
We were both exceedingly tired, and having once fallen asleep, knewnothing further till awakened by a loud knocking.
"Rakoczy," murmured Stephen lazily. "Let him in, George. There's nomore rest for us."
"The Joyous" now began to troll forth a Magyar hunting-song, and thesound of the rich, full notes put all sleep to flight. Dressinghastily, I went into the sitting-room and opened the door.
Street fighting and loss of sleep appeared to have little effect on ourcompanion. His handsome face was bright and cheerful as usual, andbidding me finish my toilet, he continued his song.
"So the insurgents carried out their threat?" I said, when, some timelater, the three of us sat down to dinner.
Rakoczy nodded.
"Heard the news at the arsenal?" he asked. "What a rush it was! Thecrowd swept me away like a chip in the Danube. And as to getting back;there wasn't the slightest chance."
"We were separated too," said Stephen, "but met again in front of thehotel. George had quite an adventure. Rescued a royalist maiden fromthe mob; quite like a hero of romance."
"A charming girl--the daughter of Baron von Arnstein. But Stephen hasleft out his share of the business;" and I straightway related all thathad happened.
"Fortunate youngsters," said Rakoczy. "And a plucky girl. We shallsoon be looking for an Austro-Hungarian alliance. I have some news,too, though not as pleasant as yours. Count Beula is in the city."
"What of that?" asked Stephen coldly.
"A great deal. He is the head of the Hungarian Committee formed to aidthe Viennese in their insurrection."
"The work ought to suit him," I said carelessly.
"So it will till the Austrians recapture the town; then he'll changesides fast enough."
"Very likely," said Rakoczy. "But that isn't the point. At present therebels are victorious, and Count Beula is a man of importance."
"Well, it has nothing to do with us," observed Stephen rather crossly.
"Wrong again, my boy. By virtue of his office, he orders you to appearbefore the committee this very evening;" and the speaker took a printedpaper from his pocket.
Stephen tore the document in halves, and threw the pieces on the floor.
"I won't go!" he exclaimed haughtily.
"Yes, you will."
My brother sprang to his feet. His face was crimson, and he angrilydemanded what Rakoczy meant.
"Don't lose your temper. The explanation's simple. Unless you attend,the committee will brand you either coward or traitor."
"Rakoczy is right, Stephen. My advice is to go and hear what the counthas to say."
Stephen examined his pistols and reached down his sword.
"Very well," he answered grimly; "but I'm afraid the meeting won't beany the pleasanter for my company. When do we start?"
"The Joyous" laughed genially.
"Not for a couple of hours yet; but if you're tired of the house we cantake a stroll through the town."
Stephen and I considered this a good suggestion, so, having locked thedoor, we went out on a tour of inspection.
By this time there was no mistaking the fact that the city proper wascompletely in the hands of the insurgents. The tricolour floated overthe principal buildings; the National Guards patrolled the streets, anddirected the operations of the people who worked feverishly at thestrengthening of the barricades; the gates were guarded by armedstudents enrolled as soldiers. Of the imperial government not a traceseemed to be left.
Turning back from the Scotch Gate, Rakoczy led us through severalstreets, and finally stopped before a house which, outwardly at least,differed in no wise from its neighbours.
Our guide, speaking a word to the doorkeeper, led the way into anordinary passage, at the farther end of which a second janitor directedus to a large room.
Several men had already assembled, and others came afterwards, bringingup the number to perhaps twenty.
They sat in rows facing a raised desk, and we, being of modestdispositions, took our seats right at the back.
"How long before the mummery begins?" asked Stephen.
"Don't know. Never was here before. Expect they're waiting for thecount. Choice company some of these gentlemen, eh?"
"Half of them, at least, are not Hungarians," I said.
"Friends of Hungary, my boy. A few Magyars like Beula, half a dozenPoles, several Italians from the Austrian provinces, a German or two
from Munich, and a red republican from Paris. Here comes the count;"and a hum of applause greeted the president as he took his place at thedesk.
He was a man about Rakoczy's age, a true Magyar in appearance, richlydressed, and exhibiting an air of easy self-assurance which suited himwell.
As soon as the applause subsided, he rose and began in German tocongratulate his associates on the triumph of the revolution. Theemperor, he said, was a fugitive, the empire destroyed; henceforth theAustrians were a free people, and the brave Hungarians would hold out tothem the right hand of brotherhood.
This statement produced frantic cheering, and the president had somedifficulty in restoring quiet.
Much yet remained to be done, he continued; but before opening theregular business he had a pleasing duty to perform, to welcome to thatmeeting, in the name of the committee, three Hungarians, the possessorsof glorious names--names that would endure while Hungary remained anation.
This harangue had exhausted Stephen's patience, and when the speakerwent on to glorify the actions of bygone Rakoczys and Botskays, hesprang to his feet.
"Now for a thunder-clap!" exclaimed my companion.
Unlike the president, Stephen spoke in the Hungarian tongue, whichprevented the majority of his hearers from understanding a word he said.
The others, however, did not miss a syllable, as their angry facesshowed, and the hand of more than one man played ominously with hisweapons. But Stephen, in his passion, heeded nothing.
"I am a Hungarian, but not an assassin!" he cried boldly. "We willfight the Austrians on the field of battle as long as any of you; but wewon't help to slaughter defenceless old men, nor butcher brave soldierson the altar of God. Magyars, I am ashamed of you! Has the ancientspirit descended so low as to find cause for satisfaction in a brutalmurder? Let the Viennese fight out their own quarrel; Hungary is strongenough to stand alone."
"My brother is right!" I cried, before the men could recover from theirastonishment. "Only last evening I stood by the side of Count Latourwhen he was hacked to death by brutal savages who shouted, 'Long liveHungary!' Have we not been shamed enough by the riff-raff of our ownpeople in Pesth? In the olden days we met our foes in the open. If wehave not the courage to do so now, let us be quiet, and not try toscreen ourselves behind a petty squabble in the Austrian capital."
"I," said Rakoczy, in his musical voice, "am a Magyar of the Magyars. Ifight against Ferdinand the emperor, who takes from us our privileges;but Ferdinand the king is the lawful ruler of Hungary, and when herestores our rights I shall hold that man a traitor who raises his voiceagainst him."
"Well spoken!" cried Stephen.--"And now, Count Beula, President of theCommittee and slaughterer of old men, you know what at least threeHungarians think."
Before he had finished speaking, a dozen men placed themselves betweenus and the door to bar our passage.
"Are we to be your next victims?" asked Stephen scornfully. "Well,every man to his trade."
Rakoczy had levelled his pistols, and I followed his example, thoughnearly a score against three made long odds. Fortunately the threatenedstruggle was prevented by Count Beula, who ordered his men to let us go.
"They will not escape their punishment," he said. "The nation shalljudge them."
"As it shall judge you," I answered.
"Come," said Rakoczy, taking my arm; "let us leave before your brotherstarts on the war-path again."
"The next thing," I remarked, when we were again in the street, "is toget away from Vienna. It seems to me that we are in an awkward fix.The imperialists will probably kill us because we are Hungarians, andthe insurgents because we are not."
"We can go to-morrow, unless the count has given orders to arrest us atthe gates."
"Perhaps it will be better," exclaimed Stephen. "I am tired of Vienna."
"I hope the fraeulein will not be hurt in the scuffle."
"Why not stay behind to protect her?" said Rakoczy in his laughing way,little dreaming that we should all three be compelled to remain.
Yet that is what happened, as the next morning the gates were zealouslyguarded, and we tried in vain to pass. It was rumoured that Jellachich,the Ban of Croatia, had arrived within a few hours' march of the town,and the insurgents were taking extraordinary precautions.
Guns were placed above the gates, and men stood near with lightedmatches; National Guards patrolled everywhere; ten thousandmen--students, Nationals, men in blouses, and coatless artisans withupturned shirt-sleeves--lined the ramparts; crowds thronged thesteeples, gazing earnestly for the first signs of the savage Croats.
We spent the day in ineffectual efforts to leave the capital, and ontrying again the next morning found we had lost the last chance.
Jellachich was actually in sight, and from the roofs of the loftybuildings we could see the varied uniforms of his motley army.
The red caps of the Illyrians, the grey blouses of the Seregranes, andthe scarlet mantles of the Croats, formed a portion of the picture,while in the background could be distinguished the imperial uniform ofthe Austrian cavalry and artillery.
"No running away now," I said. "We must stay and see the end of it."
Rakoczy laughed. His main regret was that we had no part in theapproaching conflict.
"If the Viennese really hold out," Stephen said, "there will be plentyto be done in caring for the wounded, and we will help in that."
For the next three or four days the city was in a state of suppressedexcitement. Of course the air was thick with rumours, mostlyridiculous, but eagerly believed by the credulous burghers. Meanwhileonly one thing was certain--that Jellachich, changing his position, hadjoined Count Auersperg in the Belvidere Gardens.
"They'll wait for Prince Windischgratz, who can bring twenty thousandmen from Bohemia," said Rakoczy, "and then good-bye to theinsurrection."
Since the terrible evening when Latour lost his life, the insurgents hadrefrained from violence; and although many robberies were committed, thedisorder was far less than we had expected.
Every day I walked past the residence of the Baroness von Arnstein, butall was quiet there, and once I met the ladies returning without escortfrom a visit to some friends.
The baroness greeted me kindly, but with a certain haughtiness which wasentirely absent from the behaviour of her daughter, who showed franklythat she was pleased to see me.
"You have not paid us your promised visit yet," she said; "but perhapsyou are too busy? No? Then we shall expect you to come with yourbrother."
Stephen did not greatly appreciate the honour, but he consented to go,and we passed several very pleasant evenings with the Austrian ladies.
Of Count Beula and his committee we saw nothing more--they were busymaking speeches; but Rakoczy, in case of accidents, obtained fromMessenhauser, the Viennese commander-in-chief, a document which gave us,as non-combatants, the right to assist the wounded.
A fortnight now passed without incident, except for the arrival ofJoseph Bern, the famous Polish general, who instantly set about the workof defence.
"A marvellous man!" said Rakoczy one evening. "Over fifty years old,yet hot-headed as a boy. You should see him in a battle with the shellsbursting and the bullets coming down like hail. He's a regularsalamander, and the hotter the fire the better Bern is pleased."
"He certainly knows how to make the men work."
"Isn't there some gipsy prophecy concerning him?" asked Stephen.
"Yes, and Bern believes in the truth of it. An old woman told hisfortune many years ago, and prophesied he would never come to any harmtill 1850. His body is covered with scars, but Bern doesn't countthese. The Poles are fanatical about him, and believe he can't bekilled.
"If the Austrians catch him," said Stephen, "they will put it to thetest by means of a hempen rope."
"Rather a risky experiment, for Bern," replied our companion with ahumorous twinkle.
That same night Prince Windischgratz arrived with a fresh army, twentythousand s
trong; and, having joined his colleagues, he summoned the cityto surrender.
The reply was a curt refusal, and the citizens prepared for the ordealof battle.
Three more days passed quietly while the royalists placed their guns inposition; then, at ten o'clock on the morning of October 28, 1848, thetocsin rang loudly, and the _generale_ beat to arms. Instantly thecitizens ran to their appointed places, and it must be admitted thatvery few showed traces of fear or cowardice. The men in blouses,accompanied by hundreds of women and girls, guarded the barricades; thestudents formed up on the ramparts, where all night they had lain by thelong line of watch-fires; and the Nationals, rifle in hand, marched totheir stations.
It was nearly noon when a signal-shot was fired from the Schwartzenbergheights, and immediately the bombardment began.
Shot and shell and flaming rockets came hissing and roaring into thecity; but the civilian gunners stood to their pieces, and answered shotby shot, though without doing much damage to their opponents.
It was soon seen that the principal attack would be made by way of theLeopoldstadt and Landstrasse suburbs, to the former of which I hastenedwith my brother and Rakoczy.
The Croats and Chasseurs had already reached the Prater, from the housesand woods of which they poured a hot musketry fire upon the defenders ofthe first barricade. Men dropped fast, and we were soon busy carryingthose who were seriously wounded into places of safety, where theirhurts might be attended to by the surgeons.
"_From the woods they poured a hot musketry fire upon thedefenders._" Page 54.]]
The bullets fell thickly around us while we ran here and there withflasks of water to moisten the parched throats of the stricken men.
Some, alas! were dying, and for these we could do little but cheer theirlast moments; others, who possessed a chance of recovery, we raised inour arms and bore tenderly away.
We had just returned from one of these sad errands when Rakoczy, seeinga fallen body on the top of the barricade, immediately climbed up inorder to examine it.
We paused in our work to watch the handsome, bright-eyed fellow as hestood there, quite cool, the target for hundreds of rifles.
The insurgents, understanding his action, cheered and cheered again ashe bent over the motionless body; but his heroism was useless--the manwas dead.
Rising slowly, the brave Rakoczy stood for a second, glancing toward thePrater, then returned to us untouched.
"Dead," he said briefly; "and the Austrians are preparing for a rush."
Stephen glanced at the handful of insurgents who still fought doggedly,but their time was almost come.
A savage cry heralded the onslaught of the Croats, those hardy fightersfrom the south; and five minutes later the defenders of the barricadewere in full flight, leaving behind only their wounded and dead.
At first I thought of retreating also; but "The Joyous" was alreadygiving aid to another sufferer, and the sight of his calm face broughtme to my senses.
So we three stayed, doing what we could; and almost immediately theenemy were upon us, leaping, shouting, tiring, and cheering like a bodyof savages.
A wild-looking lot they were, having little uniform, save the famous redmantle which hung loosely over the shoulders, and was fastened round thethroat with a small cord.
For the rest, speaking generally, their costume was a dark capcarelessly placed on the side of the head, rough brown jacket almostthreadbare, drawers tied in at the knees, gaiters, and clumsy-lookingsandals fastened with strips of leather. Most of them wore agay-coloured sash, and all were armed with the weapons peculiar to theircountry.
Each man carried a stanitza or long gun, a long and ornamented pistol, acartouch-box on his shoulder-belt, and, in a richly-embroidered sheath,a handjar, which is half yataghan and half carving-knife.
You may be sure I did not see all these things as the redoubtablewarriors came swarming over the barricade, but later I had ampleopportunity of studying the weapons of the Ban's soldiers.
After them marched a regiment of Austrian infantry, well disciplined andsteady as a rock.
As the Croats went by, I expected every second to be shot through thehead, or to feel one of the murderous handjars in my throat; but Icontinued my labour, at least with outward calm. Happily, the Viennesehad left the adjoining houses empty, so there was nothing to hinder theimperialists from advancing, or to further excite their passions.
The Croats swept by like a furious whirlwind, the Austrians followedmore steadily, and we were left to our self-imposed task.
When the enemy had disappeared, dozens of women and men not engaged inthe fight came from their hiding-places, and we were surrounded by aband of willing helpers.
The dead we left where they had fallen, for time was precious; but theothers were all removed into the houses, and made as comfortable aspossible till the surgeons arrived.
We had just finished our work, and were resting a while, when thebooming of cannon sounded not far off.
"They're taking the second barricade!" I exclaimed.
"It will cost them dear," said Rakoczy; "Bern is there!"
"Let us go and see," said Stephen; "we may be of use."