From the memoirs of István Széchenyi:
All his life, the Emperor Joseph was concerned with two things: industry and nationalism. Everything else flowed from that. From the moment he set foot in Vienna, he was arguing for these two cardinal missions. It would do his successors credit to focus on these things as well.
Bottom right: The Széchenyi lands in Nagycenk
15 November 1819, Nagycenk
István Széchenyi planted a hand on his hip and reached for his hip-flask.
The forest, already far-off, was receding further. In the depths of winter, the Széchenyi lands were blanketed in a field of white; crushing silence, an almost oppressive silence. Labouring men stretched as far as the eye could see, the muscles in their back flexing as they cut down trees. Behind them, their wives, daughters and sons sowed new seeds, operating the newest plows imported from Britain- in some cases, the plows had been manufactured in Zagreb, in Pest, in Pressburg. To his left, Archduke Joseph Ferdinand leaned heavily on his cane, lips tightly pressed together, eyes scrunched up against the summer sun.
“Have you read the census?”
“I have.” Joseph glanced at his friend. “Why?”
“Did you take a look at the lesser nobles?”
“I did.”
“See anything odd?”
“They’re congregating in the cities. For education, I’d expect.” Joseph squinted at the blazing torches planted every few feet across the field, providing warmth to tired labourers, and the dinky military band that had been brought in from Vienna on his orders. “I say good for them. It’s time they shared some portion of the bounty.”
Joseph lurched forward; István followed, leafing through a small booklet that he stowed about his person. “The past few decades have been a time of great economic development. But- see- it’s only benefitted the greater nobility. You know, those at Esterházy Palace in ‘18? Well, those great nobles- those magnates- they own most of the land in Hungary.”
Joseph made an indifferent noise. “I’m not seeing your point.”
Kolbe, Dobrovský, Hanka and Jungmann had completed their survey of the German language and constructed a fairly stable pan-Slavic language, which, after much champagne, they had dubbed “Austro-Slavic”. (Granted, it might not be instituted at all, but- better to have an ideal to aspire to than nothing at all.) István didn’t really see the point, but Joseph was becoming more melancholy and unresponsive these days, so he’d made sure to congratulate his friend on the development. He continued to narrate the worrying trend that had revealed itself.
“The lesser nobles- those with nothing more than a few fancy country houses to their names- have gone into debt. By the hundreds.” Joseph made a sound of vicious frustration at that. “The lesser nobility flourished during Napoleon- but only through spending themselves into debt to develop their meagre parcels of land. Napoleon dies- there’s no more need for grain or wool- no more soldiers to feed, no more troops to clothe. So- collapse. Recession. Peace is poverty.”
“We’re recovering, aren’t we?” Joseph cast his gaze into the distance. The Vienna-Trieste route was making good progress; perhaps, by the time he was old and fat, the first boat would come sailing up the canal. Budweis to Linz. Zágráb to Budapest. Milánó to Velence. Three ‘railways’, each of them due to be completed some time in the next decade, which was advancing swiftly. But, to move away from things yet to come, there was positive news coming in from individual manufacturing plants across the Empire. Then what was Joseph’s issue? István shook off his fugue and continued.
“The magnates have recourse to vast sums of money. Not so for the lesser nobles. Now, they have to work. Ah, such humiliation! Such resentment! They impart these dark and terrible emotions to their sons, who go to earn diplomas in universities and gymnasiums. But there are too many bureaucrats, too many professional lawyers and accountants and teachers. So you have educated men, trained in philosophy, jobless, resentful, wandering the streets. They feel humiliated. And there are many of them.”
“Ah...” Joseph trudged on, leg leaving a pale streak through the slush. Their shadows stretched long across the snow; one of the dishevelled soldiers in the distance removed his instrument from his mouth to down a mug of ale. The daughters of the serfs strode purposefully across the icy ground, passing corked bottles from one hand to another, supplying their fathers and brothers and husbands with liquid warmth.
“They are like cornered dogs, you see? At least, that’s how they see themselves. They need status. They need money. They need to feel
pride again. Therefore- resurrection of an old Hungarian dream, reestablishing the primacy of Hungary among the Habsburg lands. You have talk in pubs and coffee-houses of subduing Transylvania and Croatia, of crushing emergent Slovakia.”
Joseph muttered angrily to himself. “So, do you have ideas?”
István shrugged. “I thought you’d have some.”
“I’ll think about it.”
They were silent for a while. István could hold it in no longer. “Well, what on earth is wrong with you?” he burst out.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’ve been listless, dull-eyed, for the duration of your stay. I hope my company isn’t so tiresome.”
“It’s not you.” Joseph toyed with the sleeve of his coat. “You know the Croatian language publication I sponsored the other day? I obtained consent from my father by agreeing to marry a girl.”
Marry a girl! Well, of all the things- “I don’t suppose you think you’ll have to be faithful,” István joked, disbelievingly.
“Well- no,” Joseph conceded, grinning, “but she’s a bit young for me.”
“How old?”
“Sixteen.”
“Your father’s married younger.”
Joseph shot him a look.
“I mean your uncles. Your uncles.”
“Ach, it’s just melancholia. Marriage is a most important event, you know?”
“You read too many romance periodicals,” István declared cheerfully, slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders. “A man before and after marriage is the same man, just that he has a permanent bed-warmer. Let these worries trouble you no longer! Enjoy life! We are not our fathers, and that counts for something, surely.”