Tracks Of A Rolling Stone by Henry J. Coke (free e reader txt) 📖
- Author: Henry J. Coke
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One End Of The Barricade Abutted On The 'Golden Lamm.' With
The Exception Of The Soldiers, The Inn Seemed To Be Deserted;
And I Wanted Both Food And Lodging. The Upper Floor Was Full
Of Jagers. The Front Windows Over-Looked The Bastei. These
Were Now Blocked With Mattresses, To Protect The Men From
Bullets. The Distance From The Ramparts Was Not More Than
150 Yards, And Woe To The Student Or The Fat Grocer, In His
National Guard Uniform, Who Showed His Head Above The Walls.
While I Was In The Attics A Gun Above The City Gate Fired At
The Battery Below. I Ran Down A Few Minutes Later To See The
Result. One Artilleryman Had Been Killed. He Was Already
Laid Under The Gun-Carriage, His Head Covered With A Cloak.
The Storming Took Place A Day Or Two Afterwards. One Of The
Principal Points Of Resistance Had Been At The Bottom Of The
Jagerzeile. The Insurgents Had A Battery Of Several Guns
Here; And The Handsome Houses At The Corners Facing The
Prater Had Been Loop-Holed And Filled With Students. I
Walked Round The Town After All Was Over, And Was Especially
Impressed With The Horrors I Witnessed. The Beautiful
Houses, With Their Gorgeous Furniture, Were A Mass Of Smoking
Ruins. Not A Soul Was To Be Seen, Not Even A Prowling Thief.
I Picked My Way Into One Or Two Of Them Without Hindrance.
Here And There Were A Heap Of Bodies, Some Burnt To Cinders,
Some With Their Clothes Still Smouldering. The Smell Of The
Roasted Flesh Was A Disgusting Association For A Long Time To
Come. But The Whole Was Sickening To Look At, And Still More
So, If Possible, To Reflect Upon; For This Was The Price
Which So Often Has Been, So Often Will Be, Paid For The
Alluring Dream Of Liberty, And For The Pursuit Of That
Mischievous Will-O'-The-Wisp - Jealous Equality.
Chapter 13 Pg 73
Vienna In The Early Part Of The Last Century Was Looked Upon
As The Gayest Capital In Europe. Even The Frightful
Convulsion It Had Passed Through Only Checked For A While Its
Chronic Pursuit Of Pleasure. The Cynical Philosopher Might
Be Tempted To Contrast This Not Infrequent Accessory Of
Paternal Rule With The Purity And Contentment So Fondly
Expected From A Democracy - Or Shall We Say A Demagoguey?
The Cherished Hopes Of The So-Called Patriots Had Been
Crushed; And Many Were The Worse For The Struggle. But The
Majority Naturally Subsided Into Their Customary Vocations -
Chapter 13 Pg 74Beer-Drinking, Pipe-Smoking, Music, Dancing, And Play-Going.
The Vienna Of 1848 Was The Vienna Described By Madame De
Stael In 1810: 'Dans Ce Pays, L'on Traite Les Plaisirs Comme
Les Devoirs. . . . Vous Verrez Des Hommes Et Des Femmes
Executer Gravement, L'un Vis-A-Vis De L'autre, Les Pas D'un
Menuet Dont Ils Sont Impose L'amusement, . . . Comme S'il
[The Couple] Dansait Pour L'acquit De Sa Conscience.'
Every Theatre And Place Of Amusement Was Soon Re-Opened.
There Was An Excellent Opera; Strauss - The Original -
Presided Over Weekly Balls And Concerts. For My Part, Being
Extremely Fond Of Music, I Worked Industriously At The
Violin, Also At German. My German Master, Herr Mauthner By
Name, Was A Little Hump-Backed Jew, Who Seemed To Know Every
Man And Woman (Especially Woman) Worth Knowing In Vienna.
Through Him I Made The Acquaintance Of Several Families Of
The Middle Class, - Amongst Them That Of A Veteran Musician
Who Had Been Beethoven's Favourite Flute-Player. As My
Veneration For Beethoven Was Unbounded, I Listened With Awe
To Every Trifling Incident Relating To The Great Master. I
Fear The Conviction Left On My Mind Was That My Idol, Though
Transcendent Amongst Musicians, Was A Bear Amongst Men.
Pride (According To His Ancient Associate) Was His Strong
Point. This He Vindicated By Excessive Rudeness To Everyone
Whose Social Position Was Above His Own. Even Those That Did
Him A Good Turn Were Suspected Of Patronising. Condescension
Was A Prerogative Confined To Himself. In This Respect, To
Be Sure, There Was Nothing Singular.
At The House Of The Old Flutist We Played Family Quartets, -
He, The Father, Taking The First Violin Part On His Flute, I
The Second, The Son The 'Cello, And His Daughter The Piano.
It Was An Atmosphere Of Music That We All Inhaled; And My
Happiness On These Occasions Would Have Been Unalloyed, Had
Not The Young Lady - A Damsel Of Six-And-Forty - Insisted On
Poisoning Me (Out Of Compliment To My English Tastes) With A
Bitter Decoction She Was Pleased To Call Tea. This Delicate
Attention, I Must Say, Proved An Effectual Souvenir Till We
Met Again - I Dreaded It.
Now And Then I Dined At The Embassy. One Night I Met There
Prince Paul Esterhazy, So Distinguished By His Diamonds When
Austrian Ambassador At The Coronation Of Queen Victoria. He
Talked To Me Of The Holkham Sheep-Shearing Gatherings, At
Which From 200 To 300 Guests Sat Down To Dinner Every Day,
Including Crowned Heads, And Celebrities From Both Sides Of
The Atlantic. He Had Twice Assisted At These In My Father's
Time. He Also Spoke Of The Shooting; And Promised, If I
Would Visit Him In Hungary, He Would Show Me As Good Sport As
Had Ever Seen In Norfolk. He Invited Mr. Magenis - The
Secretary Of Legation - To Accompany Me.
The Following Week We Two Hired A Britzcka, And Posted To
Chapter 13 Pg 75Eisenstadt. The Lordly Grandeur Of This Last Of The Feudal
Princes Manifested Itself Soon After We Crossed The Hungarian
Frontier. The First Sign Of It Was The Livery And Badge Worn
By The Postillions. Posting Houses, Horses And Roads, Were
All The Property Of His Transparency.
Eisenstadt Itself, Though Not His Principal Seat, Is A Large
Palace - Three Sides Of A Triangle. One Wing Is The
Residence, That Opposite The Barrack, (He Had His Own
Troops,) And The Connecting Base Part Museum And Part
Concert-Hall. This Last Was Sanctified By The Spirit Of
Joseph Haydn, For So Many Years Kapellmeister To The
Esterhazy Family. The Conductor's Stand And His Spinet
Remained Intact. Even The Stools And Desks In The Orchestra
(So The Prince Assured Me) Were Ancient. The Very Dust Was
Sacred. Sitting Alone In The Dim Space, One Could Fancy The
Great Little Man Still There, In His Snuff-Coloured Coat And
Ruffles, Half Buried (As On State Occasions) In His 'Allonge
Perucke.' A Tap Of His Magic Wand Starts Into Life His
Quaint Old-Fashioned Band, And The Powder Flies From Their
Wigs. Soft, Distant, Ghostly Harmonies Of The Surprise
Symphony Float Among The Rafters; And Now, As In A Dream, We
Are Listening To - Nay, Beholding - The Glorious Process Of
Creation; Till Suddenly The Mighty Chord Is Struck, And We
Are Startled From Our Trance By The Burst Of Myriad Voices
Echoing The Command And Its Fulfilment, 'Let There Be Light:
And There Was Light.'
Only A Family Party Was Assembled In The House. A Baron
Something, And A Graf Something - Both Relations, - And The
Son, Afterwards Ambassador At St. Petersburg During The
Crimean War. The Latter Was Married To Lady Sarah Villiers,
Who Was Also There. It Is Amusing To Think That The
Beautiful Daughter Of The Proud Lady Jersey Should Be Looked
Upon By The Austrians As Somewhat Of A Mesalliance For One Of
The Chiefs Of Their Nobility. Certain It Is That The Young
Princess Was Received By Them, Till They Knew Her, With More
Condescension Than Enthusiasm.
An Air Of Feudal Magnificence Pervaded The Palace: Spacious
Reception-Rooms Hung With Armour And Trophies Of The Chase;
Numbers Of Domestics In Epauletted And Belaced, But Ill-
Fitting, Liveries; The Prodigal Supply And Nationality Of The
Comestibles - Wild Boar With Marmalade, Venison And Game Of
All Sorts With Excellent 'Eingemachtes' And 'Mehlspeisen'
Galore - A Feast For A Gamache Or A Gargantua. But Then, All
Save Three, Remember, Were Germans - And Germans! Noteworthy
Was The Delicious Chateau Y'quem, Of Which The Prince
Declared He Had A Monopoly - Meaning The Best, I Presume.
After Dinner The Son, His Brother-In-Law, And I, Smoked Our
Meerschaums And Played Pools Of Ecarte In The Young Prince's
Room. Magenis, Who Was Much Our Senior, Had His Rubber
Downstairs With The Elders.
Chapter 13 Pg 76The Life Was Pleasant Enough, But There Was One Little
Medieval Peculiarity Which Almost Made One Look For Retainers
In Goat-Skins And Rushes On The Floor, - There Was Not A Bath
(Except The Princess's) In The Palace! It Was With
Difficulty That My English Servant Foraged A Tub From The
Kitchen Or The Laundry. As To Other Sanitary Arrangements,
They Were What They Doubtless Had Been In The Days Of Almos
And His Son, The Mighty Arped. In Keeping With These
Venerable Customs, I Had A Sentry At The Door Of My
Apartments; To Protect Me, Belike, From The Ghosts Of
Predatory Barons And Marauders.
During The Week We Had Two Days' Shooting; One In The
Coverts, Quite Equal To Anything Of The Kind In England, The
Other At Wild Boar. For The Latter, A Tract Of The
Carpathian Mountains Had Been Driven For Some Days Before
Into A Wood Of About A Hundred Acres. At Certain Points
There Were Sheltered Stands, Raised Four Or Five Feet From
The Ground, So That The Sportsmen Had A Commanding View Of
The Broad Alley Or Clearing In Front Of Him, Across Which The
Stags Or Boar Were Driven By An Army Of
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