. The apprentices gave information to the town
authorities; a military watch was set, and the cause of the strange
noises in the earth was very soon discovered. The enemy was under
ground; the Turks, from their camp on the Leopoldiberg, were carrying a
mine under the city; and, not knowing the levels, had approached so
nearly to the surface that there was but a mere crust between them and
the bakehouse floor.

What was to be done? The danger was imminent--the remedy must be prompt
and decisive. A narrow arm of the Danube ran within a hundred yards of
the place: pick and spade were vigorously plied, and in a short time a
canal was cut between the river and the bakery. Little knew the Turks of
the cold water that could then at any time be thrown upon their
undertaking. All was still. The Viennese say that the hostile troops
already filled the mine, armed to the teeth, and awaiting only a
concerted signal to tell them that a proposed midnight attack on the
walls had diverted the attention of the citizens. Then they were to rush
up out of the earth and surprise the town. But the besieged, forewarned
and forearmed, suddenly threw the flood-gates open and broke a way for
the water through the new canal under the bakehouse floor; down it went
bubbling, hissing, and gurgling into the dark cavern, where it swept the
Mussulmans before it, and destroyed them to a man.

This was the origin of the Turks' Cellar; and although the title is
perhaps unjustly appropriated by the winehouse I have mentioned, yet
there is no doubt that the tale is true, and that the house at any rate
is near the spot from which its name is taken. Grave citizens even
believe that the underground passage still exists, walled and roofed over
with stone, and that it leads directly to the Turks' camp, at the foot of
the Leopoldiberg. They even know the size of it, namely, that it is of
such dimensions as to admit the marching through it of six men abreast.
Of this I know nothing; but I know from the testimony of a venerable old
lady--who is not the oldest in Vienna--that the bakers' apprentices were
formerly allowed special privileges in consideration of the service once
rendered by some of their body to the state. Indeed, the procession of
the bakers, on every returning anniversary of the swamp-in of the Turks,
when they marched horse and foot from the Freiung, with banners, emblems,
and music, through the heart of the city to the grass-grown camp o