The preceding day had been an eventful one. The proletariats, headed by the students, had sacked the arsenal, the troops having made but slight resistance. They then marched to the War Office and demanded the person of the War Minister, Count Latour, who was most unpopular on account of his known appeal to Jellachich, the Ban of Croatia, to assist, if required, in putting down the disturbances. Some sharp fighting here took place. The rioters defeated the small body of soldiers on the spot, captured two guns, and took possession of the building. The unfortunate minister was found in one of the upper garrets of the palace. The ruffians dragged him from his place of concealment, and barbarously murdered him. They then flung his body from the window, and in a few minutes it was hanging from a lamp-post above the heads of the infuriated and yelling mob.
In 1848 the inner city of Vienna was enclosed within a broad and lofty bastion, fosse, and glacis. These were levelled in 1857. As soon as the troops were expelled, cannon were placed on the Bastei so as to command the approaches from without. The tunnelled gateways were built up, and barricades erected across every principal thoroughfare. Immediately after these events Ferdinand I. abdicated in favour of the present Emperor Francis Joseph, who retired with the Court to Schöbrunn. Foreigners at once took flight, and the hotels were emptied. The only person left in the ‘Archduke Charles’ beside myself was Mr. Bowen, afterwards Sir George, Governor of New Zealand, with whom I was glad to fraternise.
These humble pages do not aspire to the dignity of History; but a few words as to what took place are needful for the writer’s purposes. The garrison in Vienna had been comparatively small; and as the National Guard had joined the students and proletariats, it was deemed advisable by the Government to await the arrival of reinforcements under Prince Windischgrätz, who, together with a strong body of Servians and Croats under Jellachich, might overawe the insurgents; or, if not, recapture the city without unnecessary bloodshed. The rebels were buoyed up by hopes of support from the Hungarians under Kossuth. But in this they were disappointed. In less than three weeks from the day of the outbreak the city was beleaguered. Fighting began outside the town on the 24th. On the 25th the soldiers occupied the Wieden and Nussdorf suburbs. Next day the Gemeinderath (Municipal Council) sent a Parlementär to treat with Windischgrätz. The terms were rejected, and the city was taken by storm on October 30.
A few days before the bombardment, the Austrian commander gave the usual notice to the Ambassadors to quit the town. This they accordingly did. Before leaving, Lord Ponsonby kindly sent his private secretary, Mr. George Samuel, to warn me and invite me to join him at Schönbrunn. I politely elected to stay and take my chance. After the attack on the suburbs began I had reason to regret the decision. The hotels were entered by patrols, and all efficient waiters kommandiere’d to work at the barricades, or carry arms. On the fourth day I settled to change sides. The constant banging of big guns, and rattle of musketry, with the impossibility of getting either air or exercise without the risk of being indefinitely deprived of both, was becoming less amusing than I had counted on. I was already provided with a Passierschein, which franked me inside the town, and up to the insurgents’ outposts. The difficulty was how to cross the neutral ground and the two opposing lines. Broad daylight was the safest time for the purpose; the officious sentry is not then so apt to shoot his friend. With much stalking and dodging I made a bolt; and, notwithstanding violent gesticulations and threats, got myself safely seized and hurried before the nearest commanding officer.
He happened to be a general or a colonel. He was a fierce looking, stout old gentleman with a very red face, all the redder for his huge white moustache and well-filled white uniform. He began by fuming and blustering as if about to order me to summary execution. He spoke so fast, it was not easy to follow him. Probably my amateur German was as puzzling to him. The Passierschein, which I produced, was not in my favour; unfortunately I had forgotten my Foreign Office passport. What further added to his suspicion was his inability to comprehend why I had not availed myself of the notice, duly given to all foreigners, to leave the city before active hostilities began. How anyone, who had the choice, could be fool enough to stay and be shelled or bayoneted, was (from his point of view) no proof of respectability. I assured him he was mistaken if he thought I had a predilection for either of these alternatives.
‘It was just because I desired to avoid both that I had sought, not without risk, the protection I was so sure of finding at the hands of a great and gallant soldier.’
‘Dummes Zeug! dummes Zeug!’ (stuff o’ nonsense), he puffed. But a peppery man’s good humour is often as near the surface as his bad. I detected a pleasant sparkle in his eye.
‘Pardon me, Excellenz,’ said I, ‘my presence here is the best proof of my sincerity.’
‘That,’ said he sharply, ‘is what every rascal might plead when caught with a rebel’s pass in his pocket. Geleitsbriefe für Schurken sind Steckbriefe für die Gerechtigkeit.’ (Safe-conduct passes for knaves are writs of capias to honest men.)
I answered: ‘But an English gentleman is not a knave; and no one knows the difference better than your Excellenz.’ The term ‘Schurken’ (knaves) had stirred my fire; and though I made a deferential bow, I looked as indignant as I felt.