Originally published in Pearson's Weekly (C. Arthur Pearson Ltd.) vol.1 #22 (20 Dec 1890).
Eighteen months ago a remarkable man died in Vienna. This was Auguste Zang, the man who introduced into Paris the rolls which have spread thence throughout the civilised world, and who created in Austria the political newspaper.
He was the son of a military surgeon in the Austrian army, and set out as a young man, with his newly-married wife, for Paris to seek his fortune there. The day after their arrival in Paris, the couple went to a restaurant to breakfast, and were given coffee with a big loaf of bread that was "far from being white, and far from having an agreeable taste."
"Haven't you any other bread than this?" called out the young husband to the waiter.
"No, sir; what other kind do you want?" was the answer.
"Haven't a semneel, or croissant, or sbrizzel?" was again asked.
"None of them," responded the waiter, who looked as if the guest was speaking Greek or Chinese; "what are they?"
"Well, my man, you will know what they are in about six months," answered Herr Zang, earnestly.
The more the Austrian traveller thought on the subject, the more he was convinced that the Parisians, with their delicate palates, would not despise the unknown Vienna bread, and that the man to offer them this new accompaniment to their national drink of coffee or chocolate would meet with success and make a fortune.
He lost mo time in carrying out his idea. Ex-Lieutenant Zang started back to Vienna, where he engaged a dozen bakers and their assistants, and bought ovens and utensils. A few months later, in July, 1846, the first Paris "Vienna Bakery" was opened in Rue Richelieu, where it still stands to-day at No. 98, near the Rue St. Marc. Herr Zang had kept his word with the waiter.
As the enterprising Austrian had foreseen, the petit pains, the croissants, etc., became almost immediately one of the favourite articles of consumption at the Paris breakfast-tables. In fact, so great was their success, that the Corporation of Parisian Bakers had recourse to every means—often even the basest—to destroy the growing popularity of their new and formidable rival.
But these manœuvres did not check the progress of the enterprise. Money began to roll in, rival establishments sprang up, and it was soon evident that Vienna bread had "come to stay."
Having transplanted a Viennese industry to Paris, Zang next set himself to start a Parisian idea in Vienna. While busily engaged in establishing his bakery in the Rue Richelieu, he was struck with the 'new' departure in journalism due to the genius of M. Emile de Girardin, and determined to do for Vienna what Girardin had done for Paris, namely, to give the public a good political newspaper at a low price. So he sold out his bakery to one of his French rivals, and with this money in his pocket, started off on an entirely new line.
The baker now turned journalist as easily as the army officer had become baker. As soon as the revolutionary storm of 1848 had blown over, Zang founded his Presse, preserving the name of Girardin's famous journal. At that epoch Vienna was governed by a military officer, who was very gruff and stiff, but who like all human beings had a weak side. He believed that he was a grand orator and a brilliant writer.
Shrewd Herr Zang never missed an occasion to insert at length in the columns of the Presse the speeches of the dreaded General Walden, and to praise the literary merit of his proclamations, which so tickled the old soldier that, notwithstanding the state of siege which then oppressed Vienna, the Presse was given the greatest latitude. Editor Zang made the most of this advantage, and the result was that the paper grew in importance and wealth, the list of subscribers and advertisers increasing rapidly from year to year.
Herr Zang always had an eye to business, and he conducted his paper on strictly commercial principles. It was a rule with him that all public men, ministers, ambitious millionaires, and financial concerns, especially the last-named, must pay if they wished a good word from his widely-read newspaper.
He drew up a regular tariff, where the prices were arranged according to the importance of the man, his wealth, or the services that the paper could render him either by praising him or by simply not attacking him. The driving, avaricious ex-baker, was not in the least ashamed of this business. He used even to boast of it. On one occasion he was heard to say, "Why, I should make the Queen of England pay me if I printed her speech from the throne."
But he was destined to receive a hard blow himself, and in the tenderest spot—his purse. Not a trained writer himself, but an excellent business man, Zang had drawn about him a corps of able editors and contributors, who often complained that they were under-paid, and even badly treated, for the proprietor and chief editor of the Presse had become a veritable autocrat, and, like the founder of the New York Herald, did not mince matters when vexed with any of his subordinates.
One fine morning the potentate of the Presse nearly had an apoplectic fit when two of his principal editors informed him that they had had enough of it, and meant to establish a rival, backed by the money of several bankers, who were also anxious to throw off the yoke of the Presse. This was the origin, in 1864, of the Vienna Neue Freie Presse, now known through-out the world. Its rebellious founders were Etienne and Friedlander, both of whom died prematurely, but not until they had had the satisfaction of knowing that the Neue Freie Presse was a formidable rival of Zang
and his journal.
Poor Herr Zang was terribly affected by this "desertion" of his "pupils," as he called Etienne and Friedlander. His despair was even amusing. He filled all Vienna with his lamentations. Zang kept up the fight for three years, when, weary of the struggle, he sold out his journal for about £80,000, and went back to Paris.
Zang was now a millionaire, and might have lived in grand style. But his bread pursued him, and turned to stone. Whenever he passed a cart with "Zang’s Vienna Bakery" on it, it was said to give him a cold shudder, until at last, notwithstanding his miserly nature, he paid a round sum to the man who had bought him out to change the name.
He afterwards returned to Vienna and married a young and pretty wife, to whom he left an enormous fortune, greatly increased by lucky speculations and close economy, for his palace in the Johannis Strasse, his château in Styria, his fine carriages and servants,
were only for external show. At home, in his private life, the founder of the Presse at Vienna, and the populariser in Paris of the penny roll, lived the cold and mean existence of a miser.