Such were tidings which the couriers had brought, and these tidings
were well calculated to produce a panic in the Austrian capital.
While the court and the nobility were concealing their grief and
their sorrows in the interior of their palaces, the populace rushed
into the streets, anxiously inquiring for later intelligence, and
still hopeful that God in His mercy might perhaps send down some ray
of light that would dispel this gloom of anguish and despair.

But a pall covered Vienna, and everybody looked sad and dejected.
Suddenly some new movement of terror seemed to pervade the crowd
that had gathered on the Kohlmarkt. [Footnote: Cabbage Market.] As
if a storm were raising up the waves of this black sea of human
figures, the dense mass commenced to undulate to and fro, and a wail
of distress arose, growing louder and louder, until it finally broke
out into the terrible cry: "The emperor has deserted us! the emperor
and the empress have fled from Vienna!"

While the masses were bewailing this new misfortune with the
manifestations of despair, while they assembled in small groups to
comment vociferously on this last and most dreadful event of the
day, all of a sudden Hungarian hussars galloped up and commanded the
people, in the most peremptory manner, to stand aside and to open a
passage for the wagons which were about to enter the market from one
of the adjoining streets.

The people, intimidated by the flashing swords and harsh words of
the soldiers, fell back and gazed with an expression of anxious
suspense upon the strange procession which now made its appearance.