Ports of Call Ports of Call Ports of Call Ports of Call Beyond blue horizons far at the world's end, strange, fascinating lands beckon us. Let us revel in their exotic splendors. Come with us as we head for Ports of Call. High up in the Swiss Alps, the eternal snows of the Matterhorn and the Jungfrau, melting under the warm embrace of the summer sun, trickle down rocky slopes toward the distant Black Sea. Rivulet joins Brooke. Brooke joins stream to form the mighty Danube, the blue Danube whose swelling breast carries our little riverboat southeastward toward Vienna, heart and soul of Austria, our Port of Call. Vienna, gay, laughing, glittering Vienna, has known much sadness since the World War. But in spite of the marching brown ranks of the Heimwehr and the never-ending strife between communists and socialists, some of the old Vienna still remains. Laughter still rings through the twilight streets, and across the tiny squares comes the lilting strains of a waltz. And after the last red ray of the setting sun has slipped off the towering steeple of St. Stephen's, the ghosts of Vienna's glamorous past tread through her storied streets. The brilliantly uniformed officers, the beautiful women of the court, fleeting nostalgic memories of the Vienna of the Empire, the Vienna of the Habsburgs. The name of Habsburg has dominated Austria's history for 700 years. But back in the 13th century, the House of Habsburg was merely one of the many warring feudal houses which made Central Europe a constant battleground. Count Rudolf Habsburg, impetuous young nobleman but recently returned from a sortie against the city of Baal, is interrupted in the banquet hall of his castle by the arrival of a travel-stained messenger. My liege, a messenger has but just arrived from His Holiness the Pope. From the Pope? Have him brought in? Yes, sire. Greetings, friend. Welcome to the castle of Habsburg. May you be seated. It is wine for my own vineyards and the haunt of a wild boar I shot myself. My message is to one with whom I refuse to break bread. What is that? His Holiness your master will hear of his lackey's insolence. His Holiness will be pleased. His Holiness has heard of a more grievous sin. Of this prattling fool thrown in the moat. A messenger from His Holiness. A lying dog. Stop. Stop. Hold your ground. Count Rudolf, here are my credentials. The signet ring of the Pope himself. It is so. Count Rudolf, during your attack on the city of Baal, your soldiers, with your permission, did enter a holy ground. They pillaged and burned a nunnery. It was not with my permission. Silence. Count Rudolf, here in my hand I hold the papal bull. Excommunicating you from the Holy Church. Excommunicating you and your family and all who give aid and assistance to you. Take it and read. Read it. Let's see if the man is truthful. Yes, read it. Aye, aye, it is true. And if one of you joins me, you too are banned. And on this very night I had planned that we gather according to the command of the Church for a war against the hordes of barbarians in the North. The Holy Father himself has called after this priest to save us. In such a cause we may yet go. Here we go. We too will be excommunicated. Hear me, my friend. I solemnly vow that from this moment hence I shall work only to convert the barbarians to the Church. I shall fight in this war if I have to go alone. And by my deeds I shall win absolution. I shall follow you, Rudolf. And I. It is our sin to expiate also. Aye, so it is. We shall follow you. Yes, we'll follow you. To the last man Rudolf's knights and vassals follow him to the war. For months they fight valiantly. Then one day on the battlefield Rudolf receives a knight into his tent. My lord, on every side the barbarians are giving way. Our crossbowmen have driven their right flank beyond the river. How many have you captured? In today's battle we have taken nearly five thousand prisoners. Have they received the sacrament of the Church? Even now the bishop is baptizing them, my lord. That is well. Count Rudolf, for more than six months we have waged this holy war. Fifty thousand barbarians have we converted. Into many lands has the gospel been spread. Great wealth have we brought to the Church. And to what avail? You have brought wealth to yourselves too, have you not? Wealth. It is not for wealth but for the salvation of our soul that we are fighting. It is not within my power to grant you absolution. We can but pray that His Holiness will heed our devotion to the Church and have mercy upon us. What is this turmoil? A company of knights approaches, my lord. Stand aside, guard. Stand aside. We seek audience with Count Rudolf. And to my lords, you are welcome. We may be welcome, Count Rudolf, but you are no longer welcome. Because we trusted you and followed you into this war, our lands are being confiscated, our wives and children disgraced. As long as you are leader, absolution for us is impossible. Therefore, Count Rudolf, we have decided to make you our prisoner and to return you to Habsburg to seek refuge where you can find it. Are you men or are you old women to believe every tale you hear? We shall all gain absolution. See what we've done for the Church. Our minds are made up. Seize them, men, and bind them well. Hark! Hark! What's that? A company of horsemen. A drawing mirror. They are from a noble house. See their plumes and banners waving. What device is on their banner? Can you see? No. Wait. Now I can see. The Holy Saint's Preserver. What is it? Speak, man. It is the banner of the Cross. A cavalcade from the Pope. The banner of the Cross. What does this mean? Push this boat further out. If it does, you shall pay with your life, Rudolf. An envoy from His Holiness the Pope to Rudolf, Count of Habsburg. Rudolf of Habsburg no longer leads us. I, Count Leopold, am in command here. His Eminence the Cardinal can give this message to none but Rudolf. Where is he? I am, Count Rudolf. What means this? He cannot go before his eminence bound. Loose him. Unbind his arms. Will it please you to follow me, Count Rudolf? His Eminence the Cardinal awaits. Rudolf of Habsburg, a Holy Father sends blessings. He is well pleased with your valiant struggle for the Mother Church. And so is disposed to lift the banner of excommunication against you and your vassals. Tomorrow at dawn, I will give you mass. Received back within the Holy Church, Rudolf carries the Cross and the sword through all of Germany. Subjugating and converting the barbarians. And then conquering his rival feudal lords. Victory follows victory. Until worn out by the indefatigable activity of this tireless young warrior, the defeated barons elect him emperor. When the crown of the empire settled upon Count Rudolf's head, the House of Habsburg assumed the position of dominance, which it was to hold through seven centuries of European history. In the 18th century, the proud line of Habsburg fails to produce a male descendant. And for the first time, a woman, beautiful Maria Theresa, sits upon the dual throne of Austria-Hungary. The problems which face this frail woman, scarcely more than a girl, seem insoluble. We find her alone in her rooms in the castle, weary, tired, frightened. Yes? Who is it? Your Majesty, may I come in? Anna, of course. You're just the person I want to see. You're the only real friend I've ever had. My poor Maria, you look tired. Yes, Anna, I am tired. But no one must know it. I have to find a way out. I can't let them think I'm weakening. Is it really so bad, then? Desperate. The Duke of Prussia has already seized the Duchy of Cilicia. The Elector of Bavaria claims practically all of our empire. And the King of Spain plans to take our Italian states. We're like a flock of sheep surrounded by wolves. What has Frederick suggested? Surely he has a plan. Frederick is the best of husbands, but he never has a plan. And your council? My council actually blames all of Austria's misfortune on the accident of my being born a woman. They won't listen to me. Every suggestion I make is met with, it's impossible, impossible. Ah, men are such fools. It's too bad you aren't the clinging vine, please help me, kind sir, sort of person. But Anna, why? What earthly good would I be if I were? Exactly. But no man will admit a woman is smarter than he without hating her just a little. Anna, you jewel, of course. You've shown me the way. But your majesty, I do not understand. You will. I believe by being a woman instead of a queen, I can save Austria. Maria Theresa summons her council. When they have convened, she makes her carefully rehearsed entrance. Tall candles placed on both sides of the throne illuminate with faint light the beautiful queen. As dressed in deepest black, her gorgeous blonde hair girlishly coiled about her neck, and carrying her youngest child in her arms, she seats herself. An eighteenth-century woman, she is the queen of Austria. As she holds her youngest child in her arms, she seats herself. An eighteenth-century Madonna, a helpless young mother, a frail woman appealing in every look and gesture, every word, for the sympathy of her subjects. It is one of history's superb performances. Each man in the brilliant assembly feels that this dependent young woman is appealing to him alone, as Maria speaks. My friends, my protectors, we have called you here tonight not as a queen calling her court, but as a woman, a mother, a mother who would rather see her precious little ones cold in death than see them go to manhood and womanhood, serving any other country but Austria. We are forsaken, gentlemen. I am helpless. I confess it. I need you. I need your counsel and your advice. I need the strength of a man to face our enemies. I have not that strength. I must depend on yours. Were I a man, I would tell you to think only of the empire, to fear no enemy, to go to every province and every village and gather an army. I would tell you not to yield an inch to protect your wives and your children with the last drop of your life's blood. But alas, gentlemen, I am not a man. I am merely a woman who knows nothing of the complexities of state affairs, a mother who must depend upon your decision. Gentlemen, we must not fail our queen. I propose that we raise an army at once. We must defend Austria. Long live Maria Theresa. Long live the queen. Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you. Thus, by statecraft and stagecraft, Maria Theresa saved her empire, securely established herself as ruler and Austria-Hungary as one of the great powers of Europe. Napoleon's imperial eagle overshadowed Austria for a brief few years, and then Prince Martinique reestablished her glory at the Congress of Vienna and paved the way for the illustrious and long reign of the Emperor Franz Josef. When the youthful prince was crowned in Vienna, he was a frivolous young man, who although he nominally ruled Austria and Hungary, was actually himself ruled by his autocratic mother, the Dowager Empress Sophie. Still unmarried at 23, Empress Franz Josef discovers that his mother has everything planned for him. My son, it has been arranged that one week from today my sister Ludovica and her daughter Helene will visit us here at Ischel. You are then to ask her father for the hand of Helene in marriage. Will Uncle Max bring along his zither to play sweet music while I do it? I remember that state banquet when he... Franz, you must be serious. Helene is a pious good girl, not at all like her father. She is like her mother, my family. How about the little one, her young sister? Will she be here? The one who told me she wants to be a circus rider? Franz, be serious. They all four will be here, and you must ask for Helene's hand with good grace. My sister says that your Uncle Max and Elizabeth have promised to be on their good behaviour, and so must you. All right, mother, I'll do as you say. It is a hot August day, and the Archduchess Ludovica and Archduke Max, together with Helene and their youngest daughter Elizabeth, are on their way to Ischel by coach. Elizabeth and Duke Max are enjoying every moment of the bumpy ride, while Helene and her mother are very seriously concerned with the important mission that is taking them to the summer home of the Empress Sophie. Well, Papi, they never would have watered the horses without our help, would they? But look, Henry, I'm so... A most disgusting performance, daughter. If you continue to behave like a common gypsy, home you go, regardless of your father's wishes. Oh, why can't you be like your sister? She would never make such a spectacle of herself, would you, Helene? No, Mama. Helene is going to be an Empress. She can't afford to enjoy herself. Well, I can, and I wish you'd let Papi bring a zither so we could sing. Ah, a zither! Here your sister is about to make the most momentous decision of her life, and you and your father wish for a zither. Now, Mama, we promised to behave ourselves when we got to Ischel, but we didn't promise not to have a good time on the way. See that you do behave yourself when you get there. And Elizabeth, remember, you are to remain in your room. Oh, now, Mama. I only brought her along because you insisted, but she is far too young to join in the festivities. I hope I shall never grow up and have to go to their stuffy dinners. You're quite right, Elizabeth. Just look, Papi, at those two, Helene and Mama. Helene is going to be Empress of Austria. Look at her face. Wouldn't you think she'd just eaten sour pickles? Yes, and I don't think they agreed with her. That evening at Ischel, the state dinner proceeds with deadly decorum. Every amenity leading up to the formal request for the hand of Helene is being observed. Franz Josef sits at the head of the table, an uneasy, unwilling victim of his mother's plans. Helene eagerly watches his face, tries to meet his eyes. Duke Max is about to crack with boredom when he sees the banished Elizabeth watching the stuffy procedure from the balcony. He calls to her. Elizabeth, Elizabeth, come here a moment. What is it, Papi? Mama will be angry. Oh, let her be angry. What did you want? Just to catch a glimpse of your happy face, a ray of light in all this gloom. It must be nearly time for Franz to ask you about Helene. She looks like a frightened saint. I wish he'd do it and get it over with so we could go to the stables to see that new stallion. What are you staring at? Franz, he is handsome. He's looking at you too, and it's time he... he's coming over this way. My dear cousin Elizabeth, will you honor me by a walk in the garden? I'm sure you'll excuse us. But Franz, they will be very angry. Do you care? Oh, Elizabeth, why didn't they tell me you're so beautiful, so lovely? Let me hold your hand. Maybe the gypsy was right. What gypsy? Where? No, Poppy and I were in the country. A gypsy told my fortune, and she described someone, Prince Charming, she called him. I dream of him sometimes. Look at me, Elizabeth. Am I not the one she told you of? Why, yes, you are. And so Franz Josef, for almost the only time in his life, openly defied his mother. In spite of her threats, cajoling, and tears, he married the lovely Elizabeth six months later. Vienna is famous for its beautiful women, for its renowned medical men, for Sigmund Freud and psychoanalysis. It has given the world an adjective, Viennese, the quintessence of gaiety and charm and joie de vivre. But most important, it has given the world music. The music which flowed from the hearts of its sons has enriched the lives of millions. The leader of Schubert, the symphonies of Mozart, and the waltzes of Strauss. Johann Strauss, the waltz king, who has made generations happy with his beautiful music, failed in his life to make even his family happy. Johann, his eldest son, he forbade to study music, and it was only due to his mother's sub-refuge that the boy pursued a clandestine musical education. At last, when Johann the elder definitely broke with his wife, young Johann is faced with the necessity of supporting his mother and two younger brothers. Mother, I've been thinking that perhaps I should start an orchestra of my own. But Johann, you are so very young. Can't you wait another year or two? I've thought about it for a long while, mother. You've worked so hard just to make ends meet. You've nearly killed yourself so that I might have my lessons. There are my brothers, Joseph and Edward, to be educated. I can't sit idly by and see you work. I must take the responsibility from you. I'm nineteen. Why, at nineteen, my father was already famous. Don't you understand, mother? Yes, my son. Perhaps you are right. I shall begin rehearsals tomorrow. Darmire's Casino, which had tried unsuccessfully to engage the elder Strauss's orchestra, was only too happy to engage that of his son. The announcement set all Vienna talking. The bitter feeling between father and son was well known, and the father still reigned as Vienna's favorite musician. Everyone was asking whether young Johann would do honor or bring shame to his father's name. As a consequence, on the night of Johann's debut, the whole of Vienna streamed toward Darmire's Casino. Many had been present at Er Johans, never to be forgotten, debut some eighteen years before, and had not wavered in their homage to their musical idol. The air is charged with intense excitement. The orchestra is filing in, taking their places on the platform. Where is young Johann? He's a duplicate of his father. Yes, he had same blue eyes and curly hair and superb figure. Yes, Strauss, is he coming? You may say, conveniently so, I imagine. He will have no fear. No one can match him. But this Johann is young and fresh. Perhaps. But it is not likely. There he is now. This is the son. Why doesn't his father take lessons from him? Oh, he's truly the son of the father. Sit down and have a taste of wine, will you? You're very kind. I cannot stay tonight. My mother is waiting for me and I promise I'll be home shortly after midnight. Yes, thank you. Some other time I shall be glad to even drink with you. Good night. Edward, Joseph, my brothers, it was good of you to wait. But why are there tears in your eyes? Did I fail? Oh, you were splendid, splendid, Johann. You're famous, Johann. It will mean rest and pretty things for our mother. Now she will not have to sew until she can barely see. It is for her I am happy. My boy, my boy, I can see from your face that you have good news. Oh, it was magnificent, mother. They cheered and clapped and would not let him go. His playing bewitched them. Oh, I am so glad, so happy for you, Johann. While the years brought Johann Strauss the younger, increasing wealth, graduation and honor, Johann Strauss the elder was plagued by jealousy and fear, fear that his son would usurp his place in the hearts of the people. Everywhere he went he heard the boys' praises. There was nothing that could reconcile the two, none who could bring them together, none but death. One day Johann receives a note, his father is dying and calling for him. I am Johann Strauss, my father. Come right in. Your father has been asking for you. He is very ill. Father. Is that you, Johann? Come a little closer that I may see you. So you disobeyed me, eh? You became a musician in spite of all my warnings and all of my beatings. Well, you were a good one and I am proud. Your work will live, Johann. Your work will live. It is but a poor imitation of your music, father. You have always been my inspiration. All my life I've wanted to compose and play as you do. It is your music that will live, not mine. Father. But Johann Strauss, why do you weep? Your father has been but a name to you. You have not lost a father or even a friend. I am not weeping for my father. I am weeping because the world has lost its greatest musician. But now our bags are packed. We must say a reluctant goodbye to Austria. We are not unmindful of the tragedy that war has brought to this once great land. But through her sadness, Austria smiles and her gay music-loving heart beats with high courage. Auf Wiedersehen, Austria. We invite you to join us again next week in this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating ports of call. See you then.
