They Were Divided - Miklos Banffy [186]
Balint took refuge in the library. There he read all the papers of the last few days, both the national and international news, so as to learn what had happened between the sending of the ultimatum and its rejection. Then he went to the party headquarters which overlooked the boulevard at the corner of Dohany Street and the Karoly Ring, where he would learn the most recent news. Above all he wanted to see Tisza himself and ask how it was that they had got to that point, what preparations had been made and what he believed would be the result. Above all he wanted to know whether, if war did come, it could be limited to Serbia, or whether Russia was expected to intervene thereby starting a general European conflagration.
There was an immense crowd at the party headquarters, more than Balint had ever seen there before, filling all the rooms and as animated and merry as if drunk on champagne.
Most were discussing the fact that a big pro-war demonstration was shortly due to arrive before the building to cheer the party leader Tisza. Any minute now they should be there, enthusiastically shouting for war. This was wonderful, for all at once the government party had become popular again after always previously having been scornfully labelled the ‘lackeys of Turkey’, or ‘foreign slaves’, or ‘Vienna’s paid gaolers’, which for years had been the epithets lavished on them by the Coalition press. Now, at last, they were allowed to be full-blooded patriotic Hungarians!
The doors onto the balcony were open and many people stood there watching for the march down the Karoly Ring of all those who were on their way to acclaim the government, while those inside kept on asking if the demonstration was yet in sight.
Suddenly the cry arose: ‘Here they come! They’re turning the corner of the boulevard. Where is Tisza? They’ll be here any minute! Tisza! Where is Tisza?’
The Minister-President was sitting on a low chair in the hall, smoking a cigar and looking as remote and introspective as ever. He barely said a word to all those close associates who swarmed round him.
‘They’re coming now, they’re coming!’ And indeed down the boulevard there poured a huge concourse of people who filled the street and the pavements in line after line that stretched right across between the houses on each side. They came with military precision, carrying banners and singing the national anthem, thousands of voices raised high as they marched steadily forward.
In front of the party headquarters they stopped; and, from above, it was a most impressive sight. The great wide boulevard from Deak Square to Emperor Wilhelm Street was black with people. They were so many that no one could count them, but there must have been twenty or thirty thousand, perhaps more. All that could be seen of the dense crowd was a sea of hats and waving banners. Somewhere below the balcony someone started calling out, but there was so much noise that the words could not be heard. Then came a mighty roar: ‘Tisza! Hurrah for Tisza! Tisza and the War!’
The cry rang out from as far away as Deak Square and minutes passed as ‘Tisza and the War!’ reverberated from tens of thousands of throats.
Then someone started to make a speech from the balcony and, though he was cheered while speaking, and after he had finished, it was soon obvious that this was not enough. The people wanted Tisza, the Minister-President himself; and no one else would satisfy them.
‘Tisza! Tisza! We want Tisza!’ the crowd chanted from below.
Some men rushed in from the balcony. ‘They want you. They want you to speak to them,’ they cried. ‘What a day! They’re calling for you! They want you to speak to them. At last! At last!’
But Tisza made no move. He sent someone else in his stead.
Another speech was made; and another; and then several others and even one from a side balcony to show all those who could not find a place in front of the main balcony that their war-fever too was