Chapter 916: Liberty and Equality
This time, however, the situation in Austria was spiraling out of control.
Over the past few years, Austria had been embroiled in a relentless succession of conflicts: the war in the Southern Netherlands, the Silesian War, and the ongoing struggle against France, all while dealing with internal rebellions in regions like Serbia.
The staggering military expenditures could only be extracted from one source: taxes.
Imperial taxes were nearly twenty percent higher than they had been during the reign of Joseph II. On top of that, a special war tax had been levied, effectively bleeding the lower classes dry.
Now, rumors were spreading that the Emperor intended to increase the number of days of forced labor for serfs, and that the special war tax—originally promised to last only one year—would be extended indefinitely.
This final straw had finally broken the serfs' backs.
A younger serf leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard the serfs in Seoden ransacked Viscount Hammer’s estate. They burned every last land deed and contract of indenture..."
Seoden was a village about thirty kilometers away, where Viscount Hammer owned seventy percent of the land.
"God above! They actually dared?"
The surrounding serfs all lowered their heads, falling into a heavy, brooding silence.
Two days later.
The bells of the church in Trenheim Village clanged discordantly. Over a hundred serfs from Seoden, armed with hoes and clubs, flooded into the village.
Before long, the local serfs joined their ranks, and the mob of rioters quickly swelled to nearly three hundred people.
They charged straight for Baron Schérer’s manor, striking down anyone who dared to stand in their way before beginning a frantic pillage.
Fortunately, the Baron and his wife had already left for Vienna, sparing them from physical harm.
An hour later, the manor had been stripped bare. Not so much as a single floorboard remained.
The maddened serfs swept through the homes of several other local landlords like a plague of locusts, then marched westward toward the neighboring villages, shouting battle cries.
That area was only four kilometers from Vienna, connected directly by the King’s Highway.
...
Vienna.
In a narrow alley off Graben Street, Baron Schérer struggled to open his eyes, looking around in a daze.
The throbbing pain in his forehead forced his mind back to reality.
The protest.
The police.
The army...
That was it. A soldier had slammed a rifle butt into his head.
Schérer struggled to his feet. The crowd of protesters had long since vanished. The nearby street was a scene of devastation, with debris scattered everywhere and bloodstains marking the pavement.
'What now?' Despair filled his heart. It was clear that His Majesty the Emperor had no intention of ending the war.
As he stumbled out of the alley, a man wearing a black felt hat with his hands shoved deep into his pockets brushed past him.
The man glanced at him, stopped, and then walked back. "I take it you are an educated gentleman," he said, his voice raspy.
Schérer nodded, confused.
The man immediately pulled a small pamphlet from his pocket and shoved it into the Baron's coat.
"What is this?"
Startled, Schérer reached for the booklet, but the man pressed his hand down. "Read it somewhere private."
The man turned to leave, but after a few steps, he looked back and whispered, "If the Emperor can only bring disaster to the nation, then we must find another way."
Once the man was gone, Schérer nervously pulled out the pamphlet. Printed on the cover were the words: The Meaning of Liberty and Human Rights.
His first instinct was to hurl the thing away, but after a second of hesitation, he stuffed it back into his pocket and began the slow, painful trek home.
By the roadside, two young men were talking heatedly. "People are protesting because the price of bread has risen by forty percent, but Her Majesty the Empress reportedly said, 'If they have no bread, why don't they eat cake?'"
"I heard the Emperor's uncle, Baron Walter—his hunting dogs won't even drink water unless it has five spoonfuls of honey in it!"
"Damn them! Those vampires! Those snakes!"
With his mind occupied by his younger son’s plight and the looming necessity of selling his estate, Schérer arrived home in a stupor.
When Mrs. Schérer saw his blood-streaked face, she panicked, her hands trembling. Ultimately, it was the maid who cleaned his wound and applied a simple bandage.
Leaning back in bed, Schérer suddenly remembered the pamphlet. He stood up, locked the bedroom door, and pulled it out.
'All men are born free and should remain equal...'
'The aim of every political association is the preservation of the natural and imprescriptible rights of man. These rights are liberty, property, security, and resistance to oppression.'
'Not even an Emperor can arbitrarily strip away the rights people are born with...'
'Sovereignty resides essentially in the entire nation. No body nor individual, including the Emperor, may exercise any authority which does not proceed directly from the nation...'
Schérer’s heart hammered against his ribs. These rebellious ideas, which he would have once found scandalous, now seemed like absolute truths.
'Yes, why does the Emperor have the right to start a war? Why should my David have to face French cannons?'
'Why must my Lukas be sent to the slaughterhouse of a battlefield?'
'Why can that fat official extort three thousand Florins from me?'
'It’s simply unfair!'
He thought of the voices in the street; everyone wanted the war to end, and everyone opposed the conscription orders.
The Emperor needed to listen to the people.
'No, he should follow the will of the people—those opinions are clearly the right ones!'
Excitedly, he continued to pore over the pamphlet. He didn't sleep a wink until two in the morning.
The next day.
Schérer wore a large felt hat, pulling the brim down low over his eyes, and walked to the front of his usual café.
He waved to the passersby and called out, "Listen to me, everyone!
"All men are born free and should remain equal!"
Less than twenty minutes later, several secret police officers arrived, blowing their whistles as they charged toward him.
Schérer had never experienced anything like this and froze in terror.
In that moment, the owner of the café grabbed him and pulled him inside, leading him to the back door and gesturing toward the alleyway. "Quickly, sir! Run!"
Within a week, Vienna had become a sea of protesters.
Serfs continued to pour into the city, looting and destroying property.
Nobles led marches alongside merchants, workers, and the families of fallen soldiers who had never received their pensions. Even low-level officials who were owed back pay joined the demonstrations.
The police were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of protesters.
Schönbrunn Palace.
Franz II stared out at the protesters surrounding the palace, his face livid. He turned to Cobentzel and demanded, "How do you intend to resolve this?"
Vienna had descended into total chaos. The bureaucratic system had ground to a halt; tax collection and conscription were impossible to carry out.
Every street was filled with demonstrators, and shops were being ransacked daily.
Most alarmingly, speakers had begun appearing on street corners, inciting the crowds with talk of "legislative limits on imperial power" and "forming an assembly to govern the nation."
Similar pamphlets had even found their way into Schönbrunn Palace itself.
"This..." The Minister of State bowed his head. "Your Majesty, the police can no longer control the situation. At this point, the only option is to deploy the army into Vienna to restore order."
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