Savrola

Winston S. Churchill

Description

A fast-paced thriller written near the end of Queen Victoria’s reign when Great Britain ruled a worldwide empire, it subtly reveals the political awareness and personal views of a young Churchill, decades before he would become one of the most important figures of the twentieth century. Savrola shows that it is possible to obtain penetrating insights into an author’s mind from their fiction as well as from their biography. The story concerns the events leading up to, during and after a revolution in the fictional European country of Laurania.

Sujets

• Fiction
• Thrillers
• Political

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 05 novembre 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781774642757
• Langue: English

Extrait

SAVROLA
A TALE OF THE REVOLUTION


by WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL

Savrola
by Winston S. Churchill

First published in 1900
This edition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.










THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED TO THE OFFICERS OF THE IVTH (QUEEN'S OWN) HUSSARS IN WHOSE COMPANY THE AUTHOR LIVED FOR FOUR HAPPY YEARS

PREFATORY NOTE
This story was written in 1897, and hasalready appeared in serial form in Macmillan's Magazine . Since its first receptionwas not unfriendly, I resolved to publishit as a book, and I now submit it withconsiderable trepidation to the judgment orclemency of the public. WINSTON S. CHURCHILL.









CHAPTER I.
AN EVENT OF POLITICAL IMPORTANCE.
There had been a heavy shower of rain,but the sun was already shining through thebreaks in the clouds and throwing swiftlychanging shadows on the streets, the houses,and the gardens of the city of Laurania.Everything shone wetly in the sunlight: thedust had been laid; the air was cool; thetrees looked green and grateful. It wasthe first rain after the summer heats, andit marked the beginning of that delightfulautumn climate which has made the Lauraniancapital the home of the artist, theinvalid, and the sybarite.
The shower had been heavy, but it hadnot dispersed the crowds that were gatheredin the great square in front of the ParliamentHouse. It was welcome, but it had notaltered their anxious and angry looks; it haddrenched them without cooling theirexcitement. Evidently an event of consequencewas taking place. The fine building, wherethe representatives of the people were wontto meet, wore an aspect of sombreimportance that the trophies and statues, withwhich an ancient and an art-loving peoplehad decorated its façade, did not dispel. Asquadron of Lancers of the RepublicanGuard was drawn up at the foot of the greatsteps, and a considerable body of infantrykept a broad space clear in front of theentrance. Behind the soldiers the peoplefilled in the rest of the picture. Theyswarmed in the square and the streetsleading to it; they had scrambled on to thenumerous monuments, which the taste andpride of the Republic had raised to thememory of her ancient heroes, covering themso completely that they looked like moundsof human beings; even the trees containedtheir occupants, while the windows and oftenthe roofs, of the houses and offices whichoverlooked the scene were crowded withspectators. It was a great multitude and itvibrated with excitement. Wild passionssurged across the throng, as squalls sweepacross a stormy sea. Here and there a man,mounting above his fellows, would haranguethose whom his voice could reach, and acheer or a shout was caught up by thousandswho had never heard the words but weresearching for something to give expressionto their feelings.
It was a great day in the history ofLaurania. For five long years since theCivil War the people had endured the insultof autocratic rule. The fact that theGovernment was strong, and the memory of thedisorders of the past, had operated powerfullyon the minds of the more sober citizens.But from the first there had been murmurs.There were many who had borne arms onthe losing side in the long struggle that hadended in the victory of President AntonioMolara. Some had suffered wounds orconfiscation; others had undergone imprisonment;many had lost friends and relations,who with their latest breath had enjoinedthe uncompromising prosecution of the war.The Government had started with implacableenemies, and their rule had been harshand tyrannical. The ancient constitution towhich the citizens were so strongly attachedand of which they were so proud, had beensubverted. The President, alleging theprevalence of sedition, had declined to invitethe people to send their representatives tothat chamber which had for many centuriesbeen regarded as the surest bulwark of popularliberties. Thus the discontents increasedday by day and year by year: the Nationalparty, which had at first consisted only of afew survivors of the beaten side, had swelledinto the most numerous and powerful factionin the State; and at last they had founda leader. The agitation proceeded on allsides. The large and turbulent populationof the capital were thoroughly devoted to therising cause. Demonstration had followeddemonstration; riot had succeeded riot;even the army showed signs of unrest. Atlength the President had decided to makeconcessions. It was announced that on thefirst of September the electoral writs shouldbe issued and the people should be accordedan opportunity of expressing their wishesand opinions.
This pledge had contented the morepeaceable citizens. The extremists, findingthemselves in a minority, had altered theirtone. The Government, taking advantageof the favourable moment, had arrestedseveral of the more violent leaders. Others,who had fought in the war and had returnedfrom exile to take part in the revolt, fled fortheir lives across the border. A rigoroussearch for arms had resulted in importantcaptures. European nations, watching withinterested and anxious eyes the politicalbarometer, were convinced that theGovernment cause was in the ascendant. Butmeanwhile the people waited, silent andexpectant, for the fulfilment of the promise.
At length the day had come. The necessarypreparations for summoning the seventythousand male electors to record their voteshad been carried out by the public officials.The President, as the custom prescribed,was in person to sign the necessary writ ofsummons to the faithful citizens. Warrantsfor election would be forwarded to thevarious electoral divisions in the city and theprovinces, and those who were by the ancientlaw entitled to the franchise would give theirverdict on the conduct of him whom the Populistsin bitter hatred had called the Dictator.
It was for this moment that the crowd waswaiting. Though cheers from time to timearose, they waited for the most part insilence. Even when the President hadpassed on his way to the Senate, they hadforeborne to hoot; in their eyes he wasvirtually abdicating, and that made amendsfor all. The time-honoured observances, thelong-loved rights would be restored, andonce more democratic government would betriumphant in Laurania.
Suddenly, at the top of the steps in thefull view of the people, a young manappeared, his dress disordered and his facecrimson with excitement. It was Moret, oneof the Civic Council. He was immediatelyrecognised by the populace, and a greatcheer arose. Many who could not see himtook up the shout, which re-echoed throughthe square, the expression of a nation'ssatisfaction. He gesticulated vehemently, buthis words, if he spoke at all, were lost in thetumult. Another man, an usher, followedhim out hurriedly, put his hand on hisshoulder, appeared to speak with earnestness,and drew him back into the shadow ofthe entrance. The crowd still cheered.
A third figure issued from the door, anold man in the robes of municipal office.He walked, or rather tottered feebly downthe steps to a carriage, which had drawnup to meet him. Again there were cheers."Godoy! Godoy! Bravo, Godoy! Championof the People! Hurrah, hurrah!"
It was the Mayor, one of the strongestand most reputable members of the partyof Reform. He entered his carriage anddrove through the open space, maintainedby the soldiery, into the crowd, which, stillcheering, gave way with respect.
The carriage was open and it was evidentthat the old man was painfully moved.His face was pale, his mouth puckered intoan expression of grief and anger, his wholeframe shaken with suppressed emotion. Thecrowd had greeted him with applause, but,quick to notice, were struck by his alteredappearance and woeful looks. They crowdedround the carriage crying: "What hashappened? Is all well? Speak, Godoy, speak!" Buthe would have none of them, and quiveringwith agitation bade his coachman drivethe faster. The people gave way slowly,sullenly, thoughtfully, as men who makemomentous resolutions. Something hadhappened, untoward, unforeseen, unwelcome;what this was, they were anxious to know.
And then began a period of wild rumour.The President had refused to sign the writs;he had committed suicide; the troops hadbeen ordered to fire; the elections wouldnot take place, after all; Savrola had beenarrested,—seized in the very Senate, saidone, murdered added another. The noiseof the multitude changed into a dulldissonant hum of rising anger.
At last the answer came. There was ahouse, overlooking the square, which wasseparated from the Chamber of Representativesonly by a narrow street, and this streethad been kept clear for traffic by the troops.On the balcony of this house the youngman, Moret, the Civic Councillor, nowreappeared, and his coming was the signalfor a storm of wild, anxious cries from thevast concourse. He held up his hand forsilence and after some moments his wordsbecame audible to those nearest. "You arebetrayed—a cruel fraud—the hopes wehad cherished are dashed to the ground—allhas been done in vain— Cheated!cheated! cheated!" The broken fragmentsof his oratory reached far into the mass ofexcited humanity, and then he shouted asentence, which was heard by thousands andrepeated by thousands more. "The registerof citizenship has been muti