Chapter 918: Protest and Riot
Schönbrunn Palace.
Baron Thugut strode into the room, led by a court official. He bowed slightly toward the Emperor and announced, "Your Majesty, General Glashokovich's troops have arrived in Olt. They will enter Vienna the day after tomorrow, early in the morning."
Glashokovich was the commander of the Hungarian Debrecen Legion, and he had brought four thousand soldiers with him for this operation.
Franz II felt an immediate sense of relief. The monstrous roars of the distant protesters, which had been weighing on his mind, now seemed like nothing more than ignorable background noise.
However, a sudden pang of frustration hit him as he remembered the price demanded by the Hungarian Diet.
To secure the deployment of this army, he had been forced to concede that imperial taxes in the Hungarian region would now require the approval of the Hungarian Noble Diet before they could be collected.
Thugut presented another document. "Your Majesty, this is the letter of authorization for General Glashokovich. It requires your signature."
Franz II skimmed through the pages. The authorized powers included the right to search private residences within the city, the requisition of any necessary supplies, and the aggressive interrogation of those involved in the riots.
Crucially, it also granted the power to shoot rioters on sight without a trial.
The Baron replied with firm conviction. "Your Majesty, you must not show even a hint of weakness. That would only embolden the thugs. It might even give the French more encouragement."
Franz II thought it over for a few seconds and then nodded sharply. "You are right."
He signed the authorization and handed it back to Thugut. "Let this be over as quickly as possible."
Meanwhile, in a small tavern in the southern suburbs of Vienna, seven or eight low-ranking officers were cautiously passing around a small pamphlet.
"His Majesty is actually going to use the army to suppress the protesters!" a captain with pockmarks on his face exclaimed, his voice thick with indignation.
The lieutenant beside him frowned deeply. "Those people are only asking for their pensions. Those were earned with the lives of their husbands and children on the battlefield!"
A flat-nosed officer sitting across from them shook his head and countered, "No, Lieutenant Schwarz. Many of them are simply protesting the taxes. They should be dispersed..."
"The special war tax should have been opposed from the start," Schwarz argued loudly. "You know as well as I do that people are already paying the military tax at the same time!"
The captain holding the pamphlet gestured for him to lower his voice but nodded in agreement. "And the Emperor said it would only be collected for one year. It has been more than two years now, and they intend to keep taking it."
Schwarz exhaled sharply. "Regardless, we should not be pointing flintlock muskets at our own citizens."
The flat-nosed officer took the pamphlet and shook it. "This is probably just a collection of lies. I heard from Lieutenant Colonel Esterhazy that His Majesty has already ordered the immediate distribution of the pensions. The protests will end soon."
It could only be said that Franz II had vastly overestimated the efficiency of the Austrian bureaucracy. The loan from Rothschild had been paid to the Austrian government a week ago, but as of now, not a single cent had reached the Military Commission's accounts.
For the money to go from the Military Commission to the families of the fallen soldiers would take at least another month or two. By then, it would be too little, too late.
A young, blonde captain sitting on the left fiddled with his glass and said in a low voice, "We can find out the truth easily enough by asking the cavalry officers nearby. So, what if an army really does enter the city?"
Schwarz looked grim. "We have to do something to prevent a tragedy!"
The other officers fell into a heavy silence.
They were merely instructors at the recruitment center. Their ranks were low. What could they possibly do about a situation of this magnitude?
After a period of somber drinking, the group left the tavern in low spirits.
Near a street corner outside the tavern, the blonde captain caught up to Schwarz and patted him on the back. "Leon, listen to me," he whispered. "You need to stay quiet. This is not something we can handle."
Schwarz glanced at him. "Hmph. This has nothing to do with you."
"Lord, what are you planning to do?"
Schwarz stopped in his tracks. "Ehlers, I just don't want the families of the soldiers who died in battle to be hurt again. Our Emperor started a mistaken war, and now common people have to suffer the consequences. If this continues, the entire country will be ruined! I... I am just so angry right now!"
"Are you serious?"
"Of course."
"This will ruin your career."
"What does that matter?"
"So, do you have a plan?"
"Uh, not yet..."
Captain Ehlers looked around to ensure they were alone, then leaned into his ear. "If I had a plan, would you want to hear it?"
On the eastern side of Vienna.
By the banks of the Danube River.
This area was some distance from Vienna's outer districts, but protesters could be seen everywhere lately.
Two or three hundred Sans-culottes—the poorest civilians in Vienna—were gathered around several shops along the road, desperately smashing at the doors with stones.
Scherer and several others wearing red cloth armbands held up signs and tried their best to persuade the crowd.
"You shouldn't resort to random looting! This won't solve anything..."
"We should go to the Emperor and petition for a constitution!"
"Only when Thugut and his ilk step down will things get better."
"We must exercise the rights given to us by God and elect honorable men to assist the Emperor in governing the country!"
Most of the Sans-culottes only gave them cold glances before ignoring them entirely.
Some grew annoyed by the shouting and spat on the ground. "Get lost, you fools!"
"Shut your mouths, you bastards!"
Those bashing the doors only worked harder.
At that moment, the sound of military drums echoed from the far end of the eastern road.
Ten minutes later, hundreds of Hungarian soldiers, armed and ready, appeared in formation before the crowd.
The lead officer nudged his horse forward and pointed his riding crop at the rioters. "In the name of His Majesty the Emperor, I order you to leave this place within three minutes and return to your homes according to the martial law. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee your safety."
The Sans-culottes were stunned for a moment, then turned to glare at the soldiers, shouting their grievances.
"I want my son's pension back!"
"The tax collectors took all my money! I need to get bread for my children!"
"We will leave as soon as the Emperor cancels the war tax."
"At least bring the price of bread back to what it was two years ago."
"Don't be afraid, everyone! They won't dare to fire..."
Seeing the tension, Scherer raised his hands and walked toward the officer, bowing politely. "Officer, we are merely suggesting that His Majesty revise the tax system. This is a peaceful demonstration. You have no right to arrest us..."
"I have every right," the officer interrupted arrogantly, gesturing to the soldiers behind him.
Hundreds of flintlock muskets were instantly leveled, pointing directly at the crowd.
"I'm not afraid of you!"
A man in his fifties among the Sans-culottes hurled a stone at the line of soldiers. Emboldened by his actions, others followed suit, cursing as they threw stones and wooden sticks.
The Hungarian officer narrowed his eyes and drew his saber. "Aim!"
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