Chapter 6: The Emperor and the nobility rule the world, not the common people

Returning to reality, the argument in the Hall of Mirrors was still ongoing.

“His Majesty rules the world with the nobility, not with the common people.”

As the ruling class of this country, the nobility were clearly in opposition to the ruled commoners. And as members of that ruling class, they expected the Emperor to prioritize the interests of the nobility above all else.

At the same time, those supporting the accession to the German Customs Union—Prince Metternich, Count Kolowrat, and Baron Bruck—were also nobles, as was the Emperor himself.

However, those who kept harping on about “ruling the world together with the Emperor” did not represent the interests of the state or the ruling class, but rather their own.

They had two goals: first, to block the path of upward mobility for the lesser nobility and the commoner class; and second, to use the power in their hands to collude with domestic and foreign forces to squeeze the people of their own country to the maximum extent.

To summarize the attributes of this group simply: they were bureaucrats, landlords, and compradors.

Although these words were spoken by a group of petty men driven by selfish motives, they sounded perfectly reasonable at the time.

Austria at this moment was no longer the Holy Roman Empire of divided principalities.

As the Emperor of the Austrian Empire, Francis II possessed absolute power.

For this, one had to thank the terminator of the Holy Roman Empire—Napoleon. The Napoleonic Wars had greatly weakened the power of the local nobility, but had inadvertently strengthened the centralization of Austria. The days when a minor noble could raise a private army and openly defy the state apparatus were long gone.

Even the power of the great nobles had been severely restricted. Taking Archduke Karl, the largest land-owning noble in the Austrian Empire, as an example: he had only 1,000 private soldiers, which was nowhere near enough to face the powerful army of the Austrian Empire.

As for the other nobles, they had even less capacity to resist the state.

So, if any great noble were to jump out now and say, “If the Emperor does not grant this, I shall rebel,” then Count Latour would certainly be happy to see him off.

At this moment, a small figure slipped in from outside the door. The royal guards saw him but did not stop him. After all, he was just a child, and he was the Emperor’s favorite grandson—the future master of this country.

The upright Baron Bruck spoke.

“Are you intending to govern this country with His Majesty? You only care about your own interests. Do you know how much revenue opening up trade could bring to this country? Our national treasury is constantly on the verge of bankruptcy; at the slightest disturbance, this edifice will come crashing down.”

“You are alarmist! Vienna has the highest number of banks in the world!” (Vienna did indeed have the highest number of private banks in the world at the time, but they were all very small in scale, mostly in a semi-comatose state, and completely incomparable to London.)

“But who will lend us money? You? The financial industry in Vienna is almost monopolized now; the state even has to mortgage part of its tariffs and public authority to the bankers. Can you not see this?”

“Debts must be repaid; that is only natural. Besides, do you think banks in other countries would be willing to lend to you? Don’t make so many excuses; look for the reasons within yourself.”

Baron Bruck had been diligent and conscientious his entire life, honest and exceptionally capable. (Historically, he committed suicide because he was framed and could not prove his innocence.)

It could be said that it was a miracle the Austrian treasury hadn’t collapsed to this day. He absolutely could not accept the accusations of others.

“Do you know what the Empire’s fiscal revenue was last year?” Baron Bruck asked back, exasperated.

Before the other party could answer, Baron Bruck continued.

“130,269,877 florins.”

“Do you know the total debt of the Empire?”

“1,461,224,893 florins.”

“Do you know the total interest the Empire had to pay last year for debt deferment?”

“101,221,096 florins—you don’t know!” Baron Bruck roared.

“So what? God save the Emperor, may Austria last for ten thousand generations. Do you think this is all your credit?” The speaker was Pitru, an aide to Prince Esterházy. He was not nervous; he even retorted mockingly.

This man had graduated from the University of Vienna with excellent grades and had once aspired to be a judge. But after waiting in vain in Vienna for five years, he never secured a real position.

Eventually, through the recommendation of a classmate, he became an aide to the Esterházy family. Since becoming an aide to Prince Esterházy, his financial situation had improved. But because of this, he had also seen more of the dark side of society—it turned out he wasn’t lacking in talent, he just lacked connections.

The teachers who kept preaching to him about obeying the law were, behind his back, colluding with officials to sell offices.

Austria at this time used a system of bestowed offices, meaning the Emperor directly granted positions. But the prerequisite for being granted an office was that you had to be able to see the Emperor, or at least make the Emperor aware of your existence.

Prince Esterházy was a great Hungarian noble; even the Emperor could not easily move against him. Pitru never hesitated to carry out the Prince’s orders. What did it matter if the Austrian Empire perished? As long as Hungary remained, and Prince Esterházy remained, he could have everything he wanted.

Seeing Baron Bruck speechless, Pitru added fuel to the fire.

“The Empire’s debts haven’t been paid off for so many years; why don’t you resign? Leave the position to those who are capable!”

Baron Bruck was furious and wanted to continue the argument. Count Kolowrat stopped the seething Bruck; although he didn’t like the man, his ability was beyond doubt. As the Minister of Finance, naturally, no one understood better than Kolowrat how dire Austria’s fiscal situation was.

There were usually only two ways to increase fiscal revenue: one was to increase income, the other was to cut spending.

He had already pushed cutting spending to the limit; he even skimped on military pay and the royal annuity. He absolutely would not spend money that didn’t need to be spent. Even so, the money left over each year was only about ten million. And to use that ten million or so each year to solve a debt problem of hundreds of millions of florins—the difficulty was unimaginable.

However, Bruck had now lost his composure, led astray by his opponent.

“Twenty years! As long as we join the German Customs Union, I guarantee that all the Empire’s debts will be paid off within twenty years.”

This was not empty talk, but a calculation made collectively by all the officials in the entire Austrian Ministry of Finance. According to their calculations, joining the German Customs Union would bring Austria an annual economic growth of 4%. Even so, this was a highly considerable gain.

Kolowrat glanced at Pitru, who was still thinking of a countermeasure.

“Can you do it?”

“I…”

“If you can’t, shut up!” Count Kolowrat felt a deep aversion to people like Pitru who only knew how to wag their tongues.

Kolowrat scanned the room.

“Which one of you can guarantee that the Empire’s debts will be paid off within twenty years! I will let him take my place as Minister of Finance!”

“What a joke! Why should we pay the debts the Empire owes?” the great nobles muttered to themselves. “Besides, it’s impossible to pay them off anyway.”

In the minds of the powerful, the Austrian Empire’s debt had long been an unfillable black hole.

Since reasoning didn’t work, they would have to play hardball.

Led by Prince Esterházy, several great nobles walked toward Francis II.

“His Majesty rules the world with the nobility, not with the common people. Do you really want those mud-legged peasants to ride on our heads?”

Francis II hesitated. He truly didn’t know what he should do. Seeing the chaos below, he didn’t know who he should listen to. His ministers seemed to be acting for the sake of the country, but who could guarantee they didn’t have selfish motives? These nobles looked incompetent, but they were his own people.

Seeing Francis II wavering, some smiled; this was the moment they had been waiting for.

Thus, they moved closer and closer to Francis II, attempting to use pressure to overwhelm this weak-willed Emperor.

“Your Majesty, have you forgotten France’s attitude?” Finally, someone became more agitated and stepped forward, tugging at Francis II’s sleeve.

Franz also smiled. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

(End of chapter)