imagination already revealed to him. Turning
to us, his whole frame quivering with emotion,
and in language which seemed to
burn with the sarcastic bitterness of a sublime
despair, he predicted the miseries which
were coming on our country. Massacre in
the name of liberty; despotism and disorder
in the name of independence; incapacity,
folly, and disaster everywhere. The Slavs
legitimately and overwhelmingly armed
against us; war with Austria; war, perhaps,
with Russia; war with our own fellow-
citizens; inevitable defeat. We ourselves
could not then realise the yet-unheard-of
possibility of a nobleman being hanged.
Imagine, then, our feelings when we heard
him describe, in language horrible from its
passionate picturesqueness, how the noblest
heads in Hungary would fall beneath the
axe of the Austrian headsman, when the
government at Vienna had regained undisputed
possession of this devoted country.
Then, growing more and more excited, he
went on to depict to us the appalling scene
of a public execution in which he himself
should be the victim. Every terrible detail
of it was powerfully impressed upon us.
We seemed to hear and see it all. The
short illegal trial—the hasty condemnation
—the desperate efforts of a few devoted
friends to obtain a pardon, or at least a
reprieve—the impossibility of getting access
to the emperor. The hours—the last hours
of a life so dear to us are fleeting by—with
what agony are we yet watching for the
arrival of the courier who never arrives,
with the white handkerchief waving over
the heads of the crowd, to stay the execution!
He ascends the scaffold—he is in
the hands of the headsman—there is a
shout from those beneath the hideous
railing- his head falls, rolls .... Even
at this distance of time I cannot recal that
imaginary scene without a shudder. We
were all present at it, so strangely did his
words affect us.

"The next evening (it was the eve of the
departure of the deputation to our King
Ferdinand,) Kossuth harangued the people
from the balcony of the hotel Grünen Baum.
He stood between Teleky and Louis
Batthiany; and turning to the latter
exclaimed: 'No, we shall not return from
Vienna without an Hungarian ministry!
and see, here is our future premier!' At
those words a thousand eljens filled the
air. The next day two vessels conducted
the deputation, escorted by a numerous
and enthusiastic following, all young men,
to Vienna. They obtained everything
they asked. Two days afterwards the
banks of the Danube were covered with a
crowd of people literally drunk with
delight. The vessels arrived from Presburg,
decked out in the national colours. It was
a magnificent day in March, bright, and
warm, and clear. Every one was in high
spirits. The deputation landed under a
cloudless sky, across which, just as they
alighted, sprang a splendid rainbow;
the finest I ever saw. We all thought it a
sign of good omen. Louis Batthiany was
the first to land. His head was bowed.
Szechenyi came next, sombre, silent, calm.
Kossuth, the idol of our youth, seemed
transported with satisfaction and full of
confidence. He carried his head high, and
talked and laughed loudly. The ministry
walked to the hotel Grünen Baum, and
showed themselves to the people from the
balcony. The enthusiasm was immense.
Szechenyi received his wife and friends
with the air of a man thoroughly fatigued
and profoundly discouraged. He had no
faith whatever in the promises of Vienna.
Moreover, though his nature was singularly
lofty and disinterested, I think he could
not but feel that the place assigned to him in
the new ministry was altogether unworthy
of his merits.* He had never liked or
trusted Kossuth, and had only joined his
government, in the hope of thereby finding
some means to withhold the car of Liberty
from the abyss into which Kossuth was
rapidly driving it. When the ministers
reached Pesth, they were received with
enthusiastic ovations by a people wild with
joy and hope. Szechenyi walked home
leaning on the arm of a friend to whom he
said, as they passed through the crowd:
'The raptures of this infatuated and ill-
fated people fill me with pity. I can
liken them to nothing but a herd of
cattle which has just been turned loose into
a rich pasture, to be fattened up for the
butcher.'"

* It was the Department of Public Works.

On the 23rd of March, the new ministry
was constituted. Louis Batthiany (who
a few months later was publicly executed
by order of Haynau) now undertook the
presidency of the council, at the urgent
request of the Archduke Stephen, who
was at this time Palatin of the kingdom,
and who invoked the assistance of
Batthiany and Szechenyi in the desperate
attempt to control the revolution which they
feared and deprecated no less than the
Palatin himself. Prince Paul Esterhazy
accepted the absurd portfolio for foreign
affairs, which he afterwards resigned when