Historically, Franz Joseph I had greatly championed this kind of "getting close to the people" activity. No matter how busy he was, he would set aside a few days every year to experience "the hardships of the common folk." There had even been a campaign bed in his office.
Though his food and lodging had not offered as many choices or such high standards as Franz's did now, they had still been far better than those of commoners and soldiers in wartime.
After all, ordinary soldiers on the march during war would not have had private tents—often, they would not have had tents at all.
The quality of military rations could not possibly have been very good, much less carefully prepared by chefs. They might even have had to eat expired or spoiled food.
Yet compared to the soldiers' food, clothing, shelter, and travel, the lives of the common people at the bottom were only worse.
In 1848, Franz had led his troops past an estate. Its owner was called a great philanthropist by the surrounding populace simply because he had been willing to give his household slops to the poor.
In truth, it was not uncommon for great nobles to bestow leftover food from their banquets upon the poor or their servants.
Franz had assumed it would be a relatively less presentable spread, since a small place like this surely could not compare to Vienna.
But when Franz saw what was inside the barrel, he realized it was not leftover scraps from a meal, much less a banquet spread. It was genuine slop.
The swollen vegetable broth, the bizarre film of grease, and the sour, rancid stench rising from it made the people who had crowded around Franz to watch vomit on the spot.
Even now, quite a few