the Viennese the art of
making coffee, to say nothing of falling heir to the supplies of
the green beans left behind by the Turks; also the gift of a house
from a grateful municipality, and a statue after
death--Affectionate regard in which "brother-heart" Kolschitzky is
held as the patron saint of the Vienna kaffee-sieder--Life in the
early Vienna cafes_

A romantic tale has been woven around the introduction of coffee into
Austria. When Vienna was besieged by the Turks in 1683, so runs the
legend, Franz George Kolschitzky, a native of Poland, formerly an
interpreter in the Turkish army, saved the city and won for himself
undying fame, with coffee as his principal reward.

It is not known whether, in the first siege of Vienna by the Turks in
1529, the invaders boiled coffee over their camp fires that surrounded
the Austrian capital; although they might have done so, as Selim I,
after conquering Egypt in 1517, had brought with him to Constantinople
large stores of coffee as part of his booty. But it is certain that when
they returned to the attack, 154 years later, they carried with them a
plentiful supply of the green beans.

Mohammed IV mobilized an army of 300,000 men and sent it forth under his
vizier, Kara Mustapha, (Kuprili's successor) to destroy Christendom and
to conquer Europe. Reaching Vienna July 7, 1683, the army quickly
invested the city and cut it off from the world. Emperor Leopold had
escaped the net and was several miles away. Nearby was the prince of
Lorraine, with an army of 33,000 Austrians, awaiting the succor promised
by John Sobieski, king of Poland, and an opportunity to relieve the
besieged capital. Count Rudiger von Starhemberg, in command of the
forces in Vienna, called for a volunteer to carry a message through the
Turkish lines to hurry along the rescue. He found him in the person of
Franz George Kolschitzky, who had lived for many years among the Turks
and knew their language and customs.

On August 13, 1683, Kolschitzky donned a Turkish uniform, passed through
the enemy's lines and reached the Emperor's army across the Danube.
Several times he made the perilous journey between the camp of the
prince of Lorraine and the garrison of the governor of Vienna. One
account says that he had to swim the four intervening arms of the Danube
each time he performed the feat. His messages did much to keep up the
morale of the city's defenders. At length King John and