On March 9, 1848, Vienna grew increasingly chaotic. Burning, killing, looting, and pillaging were happening all the time, and the entire city had lost all semblance of order.
It was the third day since the revolution had broken out. The working class and the bourgeoisie were at odds on every front, and their competing interests had already led to several clashes.
If they hadn't had a common enemy, they would have gone their separate ways by now. Even while maintaining their alliance in name, both sides were already doing as they pleased.
There was no way around it. Even revolutionaries had to eat, so the first to suffer were the capitalists in the grain trade. The workers had revolutionized their grain shops.
The workers, who had long been ruthlessly exploited, were now spurred on by people with ulterior motives, and thoughts of revenge took root. Many decided they might as well go all the way: settling old scores and repaying every grievance.
They beat the overseers to death and killed the thugs the capitalists had kept on their payroll, turning the revolution's spearhead against the bourgeoisie.
Once there had been a first time, there would be a second. The capitalists' hands were stained with workers' blood. That might not have mattered if no one had stirred things up, but now that someone had, the anger could no longer be contained.
Many trade union representatives who tried to stop them were instantly branded counterrevolutionaries and lackeys of the capitalists. No excuse could keep the workers from taking revenge.
Human desire was terrifying. Once they had killed the first capitalist and divided up his wealth, they couldn't hold back anymore.
This inflamed tensions between the two sides. To protect their own interests, the capitalists hastily formed a revolutionary army of their own, and the two sides clashed in several bloody street fights.
The revolutionary army led by the bourgeoisie now had Vienna's aristocrats in its sights, while the workers' revolutionary army was revolutionizing both the aristocrats and the capitalists.
By now, a large group had gathered at an estate in Vienna. These were all people who valued money more than their lives; those afraid to die had already fled the city.
A gray-haired man said in a trembling voice, "Mr. Owen, what are we supposed to do now? Those damn rabble have turned their sights on us. In just two days, thirteen gentlemen have already been killed!
"The value of the goods everyone's had stolen is beyond calculation. If this keeps up, it won't be long before they come for the rest of us!"
Everyone turned to Owen. He had organized this revolution, and now that the situation had spiraled out of control, they hoped he could come up with an effective plan.
Owen stared at them, his face livid. He hadn't expected things to turn out this way either. At first, all he'd wanted was to use the working class as cannon fodder and establish a bourgeois regime.
Unfortunately, the new government hadn't even been formed before they lost control of the people below. The revolutionary party they had propped up was incapable of fulfilling the mission entrusted to them.
The trade union representatives they had won over couldn't control the workers beneath them. From the very beginning, the revolution had strayed from its planned course.
"I deeply regret the untimely deaths of these thirteen gentlemen. The dead cannot return to life. May they rest in peace in heaven!
"Their blood will not have been shed in vain. We will settle this score. The same goes for everyone's financial losses. What we're sacrificing now is only to reap greater rewards in the future.
"The situation is extremely unfavorable. We have no choice but to activate our backup plan: send someone to negotiate with His Majesty the Emperor, while preparing to suppress these rebels!"
Everyone fell silent. Negotiation was their only option. They were all intelligent people and understood that the situation was extremely unfavorable. The army remained loyal to the royal family.
This time, they had merely caught the government off guard. If the City Defense Force returned, the situation would likely change.
No one believed that the ragtag bunch they had on hand could defeat a regular army.
Intelligent people were rational. Once they saw the situation turning against them, they naturally looked for a way out. Especially now that internal divisions had erupted, their revolutionary fervor had cooled even further.
They were happy to overthrow others, but when it came to overthrowing themselves, that was out of the question.
Just then, a bespectacled young man in his twenties stood up and challenged him. "Mr. Owen, do you really think that's possible? Don't forget, we've had no way back since the uprising began.
"Think about it. How many aristocrats have we executed in these past two days? You know how tangled the aristocrats' relationships are. Do you really think they'll spare us now?
"Even if they spare us for the time being, how can we be sure they won't settle accounts later? Do you really think our epileptic emperor can make that decision?"
The people, who had been ready to accept reality and compromise, hesitated again.
Vienna's aristocrats had suffered heavy losses in this revolution. The two sides were now sworn enemies.
Even if they could force the Vienna Court to compromise with the strength they had on hand, the balance of power would shift again once the City Defense Force returned.
The armed forces they had were not a standing army. Their disbandment was only a matter of time, and if the two sides fell out, they wouldn't have the strength to resist.
This was different from when they had opposed Prime Minister Metternich. He had played by the rules and had refrained from using extreme measures.
Now they themselves had broken those rules. Could they still expect the aristocrats to abide by the rules of the game?
It was a very real problem. Even if they took control of the government, they had no means of resisting the aristocrats' counterattack.
After hearing the young man's words, Owen's face turned livid. How could he not have thought of these problems?
But as long as others suffered and he didn't, he could still find a way to escape safely. He had already made enough from this uprising. At worst, he would flee overseas.
"Rams, everyone knows about the problems you've raised. I can't give you any guarantees either. But don't forget: so many aristocrats were killed this time, but we didn't do it, did we?
"It was all the work of those rabble. We organized an army only to protect ourselves and suppress the rebellion. This uprising has nothing to do with us.
"Besides, some aristocrats supported our cause before. Now we need them to step in and define this rebellion for what it is!"
Owen delivered this brazen distortion of the truth without batting an eye. It was self-deception, but undeniably a good way to redirect the hatred.
If the aristocrats sought revenge afterward, they would be doing it out of shared grief and to defend their class interests. They might feel compelled to act, but that didn't mean they all wanted to avenge the dead.
In fact, many would even celebrate. Some families had died out, leaving titles up for grabs. They might be able to inherit a title for free, or even gain an estate.
As long as they found a scapegoat, redirected the hatred, and greased a few palms, the matter would be over.