Holy Roman Empire

Chapter 14: The Scapegoat

On April 30, 1847, the sudden death of Archduke Karl, the greatest militarist of his generation, brought about the end of an era.

The funeral of Archduke Karl was very grand. Franz's uncle, Ferdinand I, personally came to attend the farewell ceremony, and all the major nobles in Europe sent representatives.

Franz was in a bad mood. Even though he had reincarnated, Death was still not a simple thing to face.

Even with the legacy of Archduke Karl, Franz lost interest in life. People, unlike plants, have thoughts and feelings. Unfortunately, as an heir to the throne, he could not show much of the emotion that he was feeling.

"Your excellency, Mr. Bowenfield from the newspaper office seeks an audience with you!" his maid Jenny whispered.

Franz was a bit puzzled about the arrival of this uninvited guest. There seemed to be nothing in the office big enough for his personal attention. "Bring him in!" said Franz.

"Dear Archduke, something big has happened!" Bowenfield said.

"Tell me about it, but do it calmly, for Christ's sake; it's not the end of the world," Franz said placidly.

Austria had a newspaper censorship system, and the government put a permanent staff in his office to review the content of the newspaper. Franz did not think there could possibly be anything big.

Did someone in the newspaper dare to publish prohibited papers in private? If that was the case, Franz didn't mind cleaning up the office.

Misbehavior of the peer competitors? At most, it would just be normal business competition, and he did not think anyone would dare to cross the line!

"Recently, some newspapers called for a campaign to enact the Labor Protection Act, and we were involved in that," explained Bowenfield.

"Go ahead, I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Franz said, unconcerned.

Bowenfield glanced over Franz's face and continued uneasily. "We became one of the leading players among the newspapers, and so as to make more people pay attention to the lives of the people at the bottom, we made a series of reports."

"For the love of all that is holy, just spit it out, man!. What's the hesitation for? Cat got your tongue?" Franz remarked, frowning.

Franz disliked hesitation during conversation, especially screeching halts at key moments.

"Based on the information we've collected, the editors at our office put forward a proposal, suggesting that capitalists should provide a sense of security to the working class. Unexpectedly, it aroused the attention of the government, so it will probably turn into law!" Bowenfield said in horror.

Then, Franz finally understood what concerned him: it was normal for everyone to shout their political opinions in the newspapers, and since everyone was used to it, it was fine to be radical. However, it would be a different story once those opinions became law.

If the capitalists knew that the Labor Protection Act was drafted by the newspaper "We Want Bread, We Want Cheese," then Bowenfield, the chief editor, would, without question, be a dead man.

Not only would he be in trouble, but all the employees in the office would follow him to hell. Maybe even Franz, the big boss behind the scenes, would be affected.

Franz was caught in a dilemma when this happened. He could not stay out of this situation by blaming it all on his staff, but nor could he, the Crown Prince of Austria, apologize to the capitalists. So what on Earth was to be done? He had no choice but to bite the bullet.

"Show me the proposal you drafted, and don't tell me you're not ready!" Franz grumbled. Actually, Franz did not blame him for it, as the office hadn't done anything wrong. What they did, without knowing the internal political struggle, was totally in accordance with their purpose.

"Yes, your excellency. The plans are with me. Here they are," Bowenfield said uncomfortably.

At the moment, he was reliant solely on Franz. Even if he, the Imperial Crown Prince, had a confrontation with the capitalists, it was extremely unlikely for him to lose, so long as he had the support of the nobility.

Once the big players appeared on the stage, all the small potatoes like him would be ignored, and when the struggle was over, it would not be the winners who had to pick up the mess.

Franz took the documents and glanced over them. The more he looked at them, the more familiar they felt—was this not this a replica of the "996" working schedule?

Apart from ten hours a day, a total of two hours for meals and a break, and a paid day off a week, the government should set minimum wage standards, the capitalists must not withhold wages arbitrarily, the employers must not dismiss employees without cause, and the factory should take responsibility for injuries occurring on the job.

Franz did not think there was anything wrong with this proposal, and if later generations of European capitalists saw these standards, they would wake up from their dreams, laughing.

Franz said responsibly, "Mr. Bowenfield, your people did nothing wrong here, and you don't have to worry about retribution. I'll try to deal with it. The office is right next door to the police station, and I'll inform them!"

Having heard what Franz said, Bowenfield put his worries to rest. Since the big boss would take responsibility, there was nothing to worry about.

The capitalists were so smart that no single one would stick out like a sore thumb if it were not necessary. Perhaps the whole capitalist class was too much for Franz, but it would not be a problem for him to deal with one or two of them.

"Your excellency, we should continue what we are doing?" Bowenfield asked hesitantly.

"Of course, get on with it, but know that there is tension. You should avoid provoking the capitalists by going too far, as that would cause unnecessary trouble," Franz said thoughtfully.

A change in position was the least desired thing. Since Franz had offended the capitalist class, he simply needed to put all his eggs in one basket. In that way, he could at least get the support of the public.

The worst way to deal with this kind of situation would be to try to please both sides. In the end, he knew he would please neither.

Additionally, they were not the only newspaper to support the Labour Protection Act. Besides, the conservatives had been taking action, and Austrian public opinion was generally sympathetic to the working class.

"Yes, your excellency!" Bowenfield replied.

After he dismissed Bowenfield, Franz started again to consider the problems he faced. Usually, the best way to suppress a hot topic was to create a more burning one.

What kind of topic was able to attract the attention of the capitalist class? There was no doubt that at the moment, it was the Labor Protection Act.

For example, should they compress further the 10-hour working system by including the workers' meal and rest time?

Or should they increase the punishment for work-related injuries a little bit, or even set a minimum wage standard that would hurt the capitalists?

All in all, as long as the Labor Protection Act existed, was finally enacted by the government, and went further than the contents of the proposal, everyone's attention would be diverted.

The likelihood of the capitalists' rage damaging his newspaper, too, would be minimized.

When these thoughts came into his mind, Franz smiled in satisfaction: he already thought of someone to take the blame for him. Prime Minister Metternich could not be at ease if he did not want to be replaced, since the Labor Protection Act had been proposed by Archduke Louis on behalf of the nobility.

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