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Title: The story of Hungary
Author: Vámbéry, Ármin
Language: English
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THE STORY OF THE NATIONS
OCTAVO, ILLUSTRATED. PER VOL., $1.50
THE EARLIER VOLUMES WILL BE
THE STORY OF GREECE. By Prof. JAS. A. HARRISON
THE STORY OF ROME. By ARTHUR GILMAN
THE STORY OF THE JEWS. By Prof. JAS. K. HOSMER
THE STORY OF CHALDEA. By Z. RAGÖZIN
THE STORY OF NORWAY. By Prof. H. H. BOYESEN
THE STORY OF GERMANY. By S. BARING-GOULD
THE STORY OF SPAIN. By E. E. and SUSAN HALE
THE STORY OF HUNGARY. By Prof. A. VÁMBÉRY
THE STORY OF THE SARACENS. By ARTHUR GILMAN
THE STORY OF ASSYRIA. By Z. RAGÖZIN
THE STORY OF THE GOTHS. By HENRY BRADLEY
THE STORY OF THE NORMANS. By SARAH O. JEWETT
For prospectus of the series see end of this volume
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON
[Illustration: _Frontispiece._ SALLY FROM FORTRESS OF SZIGETVÁR. (See
p. 317.)]
The Story of the Nations
THE
STORY OF HUNGARY
BY
ARMINIUS VÁMBÉRY
PROFESSOR AT THE UNIVERSITY OF BUDA-PESTH
WITH THE COLLABORATION OF
LOUIS HEILPRIN
NEW YORK & LONDON
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
The Knickerbocker Press
1886
COPYRIGHT BY
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
1886
Press of
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
New York
PREFACE.
In complying with the request of the publishers of the _Nations_ Series
to write the Story of Hungary, I undertook a task which was out of the
range of my previous literary undertakings, which had for the most
part been devoted to the geography, history, and philology of Central
Asia. The principal reason which induced me to enter upon what is for
me a new literary field, was my desire to make American and English
readers acquainted with the record of my native country, and to present
the various phases of the history of Hungary in the light best suited
to attract the attention of the citizens of England and of the Great
Republic, to whose opinion we Hungarians are by no means indifferent.
My willingness to prepare the present volume was further due to the
fact, that it was not the _History_, but the _Story_ of Hungary, I
was asked to write; an undertaking in which I had simply to deal with
the salient events, the most noteworthy personalities, and the most
thrilling episodes in a narrative which covered nearly a thousand
years, and was not called upon to consider the philosophical side
of the history, or to discuss the deeper-lying motives or the less
significant details of national action.
For a task such as that presented to me, I concluded that the knowledge
and the ideas of a Hungarian man of letters were not inadequate;
I have, nevertheless, had recourse, in certain instances, to the
assistance of writers who had given special attention to our national
history, with the idea of making as accurate as possible this _the
first Story of Hungary written in English_.
The distance between Buda-Pesth and New York rendered it impossible for
me to give my personal attention to the proofs while the volume was
being put into type. The proof-reading was therefore entrusted to the
care of Mr. Louis Heilprin, a gentleman who is evidently thoroughly
familiar with the subject, and to whom I desire to express my
obligations not only for the care he has taken with the proof-reading,
but also for his attention in securing in my English text the most
accurate and most effective forms of expression.
I take this opportunity of expressing, also, my thanks for the kind
coöperation of my countrymen, Messrs. Sebestyén, Csánki, Acsády, and
Vargha.
A. V.
BUDA-PESTH, _August, 1886_.
CONTENTS.
I.
PAGE
THE COUNTRY AND THE PEOPLE OF HUNGARY, 1-17
A bird’s-eye view, 1—Carpathian mountains, 5—Water system,
7—Climate, 9—Various nationalities, 13—Constitution, 16.
II.
HUNGARY BEFORE THE OCCUPATION BY THE MAGYARS 18-26
Prehistoric times, 18—Pannonia and Dacia, 20—The Marcomanni,
21—Huns, 23—Gepidæ, 24—Baján, prince of the Avars, 25.
III
THE ORIGIN OF THE HUNGARIANS 27-41
Nimrod and his descendants, 27—Two kindred races, 29—Cradle
of the Magyar race, 32—Country between the Volga and Danube,
33—The seven dukes, 36—Invasion of Hungary, 37—Defeat of
Svatopluk, 39.
IV.
THE REIGN OF THE DUKES 42-52
Árpád the first duke, 42—Defeat of King Berengar, 44—Battle
of Presburg, 45—Battle of Merseburg, 47—_Melancholy Magyars_,
49—Duke Geyza, 51.
V.
THE CONVERSION TO CHRISTIANITY 53-64
Shamanism, 53—Missionaries, 55—Baptism of Stephen,
58—Discontent, 59—Rigorous laws, 61—Changes in manners and
customs, 63.
VI.
ST. STEPHEN, THE FIRST KING OF HUNGARY 65-96
St. Stephen’s Day, 66—Influence of religious ideas, 69—Character
of Stephen, 71—Embassy to Rome, 74—St. Stephen’s crown, 75—Papal
bull, 77—Christian church the corner-stone, 79—Cathedral of
Stuhlweissenburg, 81—Increase of royal authority, 83—Revenues,
85—Prosperity of the country, 87—Attack of Conrad, 89—Stephen’s
advice to his son, 91—Stephen canonized, 96.
VII.
THE KINGS OF THE HOUSE OF ÁRPÁD 97-150
Wealth of the Árpáds, 98—Charter of the Golden Bull, 99—Vatha,
102—Envoys of Henry III., 103—The brothers’ feud, 105—Power
of paganism broken, 107—Battle of Mogyoród, 109—Increase of
population, 111—Religious movement in Europe, 114—The “bookish”
king, 115—Struggle between uncle and nephew, 117—Béla’s oath,
119—Royal chancery, 121—Battle on the Drave, 124—Andrew II.,
125—Complaints of the nobles, 127—Golden Bull, 129—Mongol
invasion, 132—Plain of Theiss, 135—Battle of Muhi, 139—Béla’s
flight, 141—Colonization, 142—Frederic, Duke of Austria,
144—Alliance of houses of Hapsburg and Árpád, 145—Ladislaus IV.,
147—The sun of the Árpáds sets, 150.
VIII.
THE ANJOUS IN HUNGARY 151-193
The Czech party victorious, 152—Otto’s march through Buda,
153—Charles Robert of Anjou crowned, 154—Czech depredations,
155—Battle of Kassa, 157—Zách family condemned, 160—Wallachian
campaign, 161—Louis the Great, 164—Assassination of Andrew,
165—The Pope’s sentence, 167—Successes in Servia, 169—Europe
threatened by a new foe, 171—Cultivation of the arts of peace,
174—End of union between Poland and Hungary, 175—Coronation of
Charles, 177—Sigismund, ruler of Hungary, 179—Execution of Kont,
181—Approach of Bajazet, 183—Election of new king, 185—King of
Hungary becomes Emperor of Germany, 187—Church of Rome, 189—Siege
of Galambócz, 191—Death of Sigismund, 193.
IX.
JOHN HUNYADI; THE GREAT CHAMPION OF CHRISTIANITY 194-216
Every noble a born soldier, 195—Battle of Semendria, 196—Heroism
of Simon Kemény, 199—Entrance of Turkish army, 201—League against
the Turks, 203—Terms of peace, 205—Battle of Varna, 207—Defeat
of the Hungarians, 209—Invasion of Albania, 211—John Capistrano,
213—Death of Hunyadi, 215.
X
KING MATTHIAS 217-256
Personal courage, 220—Wars with the Poles and Czechs, 222—The
_Black Troop_, 224—Siege of Vienna, 225—Severe disciplinarian,
229—Character of Matthias, 231—Embassy to Charles VIII.,
233—Brilliant court receptions, 235—“An Earthly Paradise,”
238—New laws, 240—King Matthias the Just, 241—Critical position,
243—Wealth, 245—Renaissance, 247—Court dinners, 249—Library,
251—Palace at Buda, 253—Death of Matthias, 256.
XI.
THE PERIOD OF NATIONAL DECLINE, AND THE DISASTROUS
BATTLE OF MOHÁCS 257-289
A dark page, 257—John Corvinus, 259—Deputation of Uladislaus,
261—Disorders of the times, 263—A distinguished brawl,
267—Condition of the Hungarian peasants, 269—Peasant war,
271—Popular feeling, 273—Indifference of the king, 275—Frivolous
amusements, 277—Fuggers, 279—_Kalandos_ League, 281—Siege of
Shabatz, 283—King Louis roused from his lethargy, 285—Battle of
Mohács, 287—Hungarians pay a heavy penalty, 289.
XII.
THE TURKISH WORLD, AND THE RISE OF PROTESTANTISM
IN HUNGARY 290-336
Sack of Buda, 293—A nation with two kings, 295—Ambitious
schemes of Solyman, 297—Gallant George Szondi, 299—Stephen
Losonczy, 301—Temesvár taken by the Turks, 305—Depressing days,
307—Heroic defence of Erlau, 308—Plans of Solyman, 311—He lays
siege to Szigetvár, 313—Wearisomeness of the siege, 315—Fall of
Szigetvár, 317—The poet Balassa, 319—Spread of Luther’s ideas,
322—Laws against Lutherans, 323—Teachings of Calvin, 325—The
anti-reformation movement, 327—Nicholas Zrinyi, 329—Last great
campaign of the Osmanlis, 331—Rout of the Turks, 333—Peace of
Szatmár, 335—Desolation of Hungary, 336.
XIII.
THE AUSTRIAN RULE (1526-1780) 337-373
Ferdinand elevated to the throne of Hungary, 338—Turks averse to
increase of Hapsburg power, 339—Vienna the seat of government,
341—Obstacle to Germanizing schemes, 343—Rebellion, 345—Peace
of Vienna, 346—Jesuits gain a foothold, 347—Gabriel Bethlen,
348—Old policy of the Transylvanian princes, 350—Disturbance of
the “balance of power,” 351—Gloomy outlook for the Hungarians,
353—General conspiracy, 355—Kurucz-Labancz era, 357—Negotiations
begun, 358—Siege of Vienna raised, 359—_Bloody Tribunal of
Eperjes_, 360—Colonization of the Alföld, 361—Oppressive
taxes, 362—Francis Rákóczy II., 363—New rising of the people,
364—Compact of Szatmár, 367—Inauguration of new policy, 369—Maria
Theresa’s appeal, 370—Gratitude of the queen, 371—Social
revolution, 372.
XIV.
THE EMPEROR JOSEPH II.—THE NATIONAL REACTION
AND THE NAPOLEONIC WARS 374-399
A king refuses to be crowned, 375—Imbued with
eighteenth-century views, 386—German made the official
language, 379—Shocks the prejudices of the people, 381—Crown
removed to Vienna, 382—War declared against Turkey,
385—Succession of Leopold II., 387—Hungary declared an
independent country, 389—Laws securing religious liberty,
390—Arbitrary government of Francis I., 391—Hungarian
Jacobins, 392—Echo of the French ideas, 394—Liberal leaders
arrested, 395—Bloody executions, 396—Main functions of the
diets, 397—Constitution ignored, 398—Levy of recruits, 399.
XV.
SZÉCHENYI, KOSSUTH, AND THE STRUGGLE FOR
LIBERTY IN 1848-1849 400-440
Hungarian Academy of Sciences, 400—Stephen Széchenyi,
402—Congress of Vienna, 404—Speaks in Hungarian,
406—Publication of “Credit,” 409—Introduction of
horse-racing, 410—Danube Steam Navigation Company, 411—Louis
Kossuth, 412—Leaders of public opinion, 414—Censorship
of the press, 415—Kossuth’s imprisonment, 416—_Pesti
Hirlap_, 417—Attacks on Kossuth, 418—Policy of the
Viennese government, 420—Revolutions of 1848, 421—_Talpra
Magyar_, 422—Reforms of the diet, 423—Hungary a modern
state, 424—Rebellion of Croatians, Wallachs, and Serbs,
426—_Honvéds_, 427—Vote for troops and funds, 428—Death of
Széchenyi, 429—Invasion of Windischgrätz, 430—Klapka achieves
his first triumph, 431—Alliance between Francis Joseph and
the Czar, 432—Surrender of Világos, 433—Persecution of the
patriots, 434—Work of reconciliation, 435—Austria-Hungary,
436—Pardon for political offenders, 440.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
SALLY FROM FORTRESS OF SZIGETVÁR _Frontispiece_
SELF-IMMOLATION OF SZONDI xiv
DANUBE FROM THE RUINS OF VISEGRÁD 3
ICE GROTTO OF DEMÉNFALVA 5
BORDERS OF THE DANUBE 7
BUDA-PESTH 11
COACHMAN 12
HUNGARIAN TYPES 13
CHILDREN FROM THE DISTRICT OF THE SAVE 15
A “KOLA” 17
ROMAN AND DACIANS, FROM TRAJAN’s COLUMN 19
A ROMAN TEMPLE 21
HUNGARIAN SHEPHERD 31
ELECTION OF ÁLMOS, THE FIRST DUKE 35
ÁRPÁD TAKES POSSESSION OF HUNGARY 43
BAPTISM OF ST. STEPHEN 57
CORONATION OF ST. STEPHEN 67
THE PEOPLE SEDUCED BY VATHA CLAIM THE
RE-ESTABLISHMENT OF PAGANISM 101
DUEL BETWEEN ST. LADISLAUS AND AKERS 113
BÉLA IV. RETURNS TO HIS COUNTRY, DEVASTATED
BY THE MONGOLS 143
CASTLE OF ÁRVA 153
CATHEDRAL OF GRAN 163
CASTLE OF BETZKÓ 173
CASTLE OF HUNYAD 196
PRESBURG 219
FORTRESS OF BUDA 227
RUINS OF VISEGRÁD 237
JELLACHICH SQUARE, AGRAM 255
HEROIC DEFENCE OF ERLAU 309
PASHA’S HOUSE 319
HUNGARIAN PEASANTS IN AN INN 321
A CSIKÓS 339
HUNGARIAN PEASANTS 349
PEASANT GIRL FROM THE NEIGHBORHOOD
OF BUDA-PESTH 365
HUNGARIAN PEASANT 371
HUNGARIAN PORTER (DOOR-KEEPER) 377
SLOVAK WOMAN AND CHILDREN 383
GYPSY HUTS 401
OLD GYPSY WOMAN 403
HALT OF GYPSIES 405
GYPSIES AND LADY 419
HOUSE AT KRAPINA 423
HUNGARIAN GYPSY 425
HUNGARIAN LADY 435
WOMAN’S HEAD-DRESS 437
CARTS 439
BARKS ON DANUBE 440
[Illustration: SELF-IMMOLATION OF SZONDI. (See p. 301.)]
[Illustration: HUNGARY]
[Illustration]
THE STORY OF HUNGARY.
CHAPTER I.
THE COUNTRY AND THE PEOPLE OF HUNGARY.
ALEXANDER PETÖFI, the great Hungarian poet, in one of his beautiful
poems, sings thus of his native land:
“If the earth be God’s crown
Our country is its fairest jewel.”
And truly were we able to ascend the airy heights and obtain a
bird’s-eye view of Hungary, we would fain admit that it is one of the
fairest and most blessed spots on the face of the earth.
In the Northwest of Hungary, on the banks of the Danube, begins the
mountainous region known under the name of the Carpathian range, which
for beauty is not surpassed by the Alps, and in extent fairly rivals
them. This mountain range, encircling like a gigantic evergreen wreath
one half of the country, extends all along its northern boundary and,
after enclosing the eastern portion of it, stretches westward to where
it is intersected by the waters of the Danube, not terminating there,
however, but branching off into the countries lying along the lower
course of that river.
The whole range of the Carpathians is characterized throughout its
immensely long course by considerable breadth, forming at some
places quite a hilly country and high plateaus, as, for instance, in
Transylvania which, although properly belonging to Hungary, formerly
enjoyed a sort of independence under its own name. This territory is
covered almost entirely by the Carpathians, but, of course, designated
here by different names.
We shall proceed now in due order.
In the Northwest, there where the Danube enters Hungarian territory
near Dévény, the mountain chain begins, under the name of the
Northwestern Carpathians; these, describing the shape of a half moon,
extend from Presburg (Pozsony) to the Hernád-Tarcza valley. Formerly
three groups only were mentioned in connection with this section:
namely, the Tátra, Fátra, and Mátra, a representation of which, as
well as of the four rivers, the Danube, Theiss, Drave, and Save, is
embodied in the arms of the country, whence Hungary is designated as
“the country of the three mountains and four rivers.” The Northwestern
Carpathians are, however, a gigantic mountain mass of immense bulk,
subdivided into several distinct ranges. Of these one, the Northwestern
border mountain-range, starting near the Danube in Presburg County and
extending in the shape of a wide arch in a northeastern direction as
far as the sources of the Árva river, divides Hungary from Moravia,
Silesia, and Galicia. This ridge is constantly rising, and reaches
the highest elevation at its northern edge. Another range is the
Little Kreván, which begins in Árva County, and extends through the
flatlands between the Vág and Nyitra rivers. East of this are the Gömör
mountain-range, famous for its stalactitic caves, including Aggtelek;
the Mátra range, extending from Miskolcz to Vácz; and the loftiest
of all, the High Tátra, whose highest peaks are those of Jégvölgy,
Gerlachfalva, and Lomnicz, rising to an altitude of between 8,000 and
9,000 feet. The mountains belonging to this group are snow-covered,
and what renders them peculiarly interesting are the so-called
_tengerszemek_ (eyes of the sea), limpid lakes of unfathomable depth,
which, according to popular belief, are connected with the sea, and
about which a good many old-time legendary tales are current amongst
the people. These lakes are met with at the height of 1,900 metres
above the level of the sea.
[Illustration: DANUBE FROM THE RUINS OF VISEGRÁD.]
That range of mountains which extends eastwards from the Hernád-Tarcza
valley to the southeastern angle of Mármaros County is called the
Northeastern Carpathians. It includes the Wooded Carpathians and the
Eperjes-Tokay range, in the southern part of which, the Hegyalja, the
king of the wines, the famous Tokay wine, is produced.
[Illustration: ICE-GROTTO OF DEMÉNYFALVA.]
The southeastern chain of the Carpathians divides where Mármaros
County, Transylvania, and Bukovina converge into an angle, forming
several main lines which enclose the territory of Transylvania in an
almost quadrangular shape and give it the character of a high plateau.
The name of this group is the Southeastern Carpathians. Parts of it
are the Transylvanian northern and eastern border ranges; the Hargita
range, with the remarkable Mount Büdös, containing several caves from
which issue strong gases, and the beautiful lake of St. Anna at a
height of 950 metres; the southern border range, the largest and most
massive portion of the Carpathian mountains; the mountain group of
the Banate and the mineral mountain range of the Banate, the latter
owing its name to the gold, silver, and other ores as well as the coal
abounding in it. This group projects as far as the basin of the Danube
and forms there the passes known as the Iron Gate, which greatly impede
navigation. To the Transylvanian Hungarian range, extending north from
the Maros river, belong the mineral mountains of Transylvania, rich in
gold and other ore, and the mountain called Királyhágó, which marks the
frontier between Hungary and the independent Transylvania of old.
Thirty-eight passes lead from this mountain-system of gigantic
dimensions, partly into the countries adjacent to Hungary, partly
into the regions divided by them. Of these the most important are:
the Jablunka pass, communicating with Silesia and the valley of the
Vistula; the Vereczke pass between Munkács and Stry, supposed to be the
pass through which the Hungarians entered their present country; the
Radna pass, leading into Bukovina; the Ojtóz pass, communicating with
Moldavia; the Tömös pass, leading to Bucharest; and the Red Tower pass,
leading into Little Wallachia.
Besides the Carpathian mountains Hungary also contains a less
considerable portion of the Alps, belonging to the so-called Noric
Alps. They lie in trans-Danubian Hungary, the Pannonia of old. They
embrace the Austro-Styrian border-range, between the valleys of the
Danube and Drave; the Vértes-Bakony ranges, of which the Bakony forest
forms a part; and the group of the Buda mountains, producing the
celebrated wines of that name.
Croatia and Slavonia, which are parts of the Hungarian realm, are also
traversed by mountains belonging to the Alpine system.
We perceive from the preceding account that a large portion of the
country is mountainous, but over a third part of it is level land,
and so fertile that it may compare to the prairies in North America.
The great Hungarian plain, the so-called Alföld (Lowland), boasts of
the best soil for the production of wheat, and, stretching down from
the offshoots of the Central Carpathians to the frontiers of Servia
contains upward of 35,000 square miles.
[Illustration: BORDERS OF THE DANUBE.]
The extent of the water system of a country and its distribution is
always of the first importance. In this respect, too, Hungary has been
blessed by nature. Of the sea she has but little; a small portion only
of the Adriatic washes her shores, the so-called Hungarian Sea-Coast,
where Fiume, the only important Hungarian seaport city, is situated.
The country possesses also some interesting lakes; one, Lake Balaton,
forty-seven miles long and nine miles wide, has the characteristics
of the sea to such an extent that it is called the Hungarian Sea. In
this extensive water is to be found the savory _fogas_ fish, and on its
shores is situated Balaton-Füred, one of the favorite watering-places
of Hungary, and near this place is the famous echo of Tihany. Another
large lake is the Fertö (Neu-Siedler), eighteen miles long and about
five miles wide, which became perfectly dry in 1863, so that even
houses were built on its bed, but the waters have returned to it within
the last few years. Several smaller lakes, besides the two mentioned,
are scattered throughout the country.
With rivers the country is abundantly supplied. Its mightiest stream is
the Danube, after the Volga, the largest river in Europe. The whole of
Hungary belongs to its basin. Its length in Hungary is 600 miles, and
it leaves the country at Orsova, after having formed several islands in
its course. The largest among these is the Great Csalló region, which
contains two towns and over a hundred villages; and the most beautiful
of them is Margit (Margaret) Island, near Buda-Pesth—quite a miniature
paradise, frequented by a great many strangers, who come here to get
the benefit of its excellent baths. Of the numerous affluents of the
Danube the Theiss is the most important; it has its sources in the
country and empties into the Danube on Hungarian soil, near Titel. It
is navigable for steamships. The Save and Drave are after the Theiss
the largest tributaries of the Danube. All these rivers send their
waters, through the medium of the Danube, into the Black Sea.
Thus harmoniously is the soil of Hungary varied by mountains, valleys,
plains, and high plateaus, and gratefully watered by rivers and lakes;
and if we but add that the country lies between the forty-fourth and
fiftieth degrees of northern latitude, that is, in the most favorable
part of the temperate zone, we may readily infer the superiority of
the climatic conditions prevailing there. There is, of course, great
variety of climate. The winter is raw and cold in the Carpathian
regions; spring sets in later, winter comes earlier, and the cold
sometimes reaches -22° F. In the hilly and level country the climate
is much more genial, the summers hotter, and storms of more frequent
occurrence. Wheat, grapes, and maize do not ripen in the regions
of the higher Carpathians, whilst the Alföld produces the best and
finest wheat, and even rice. The air is most genial on the shores of
the Adriatic, and here are grown the fruits of Southern Europe. The
climate, as a general thing, is dry, especially in the Alföld, where
trees are rare.
Such is the topography and climate of the country which, lying in the
central portion of Middle Europe, stretches between Moravia, Silesia,
Galicia, Bukovina, Roumania, Servia, Bosnia, the Adriatic Sea, Istria,
Carinthia, Styria, and Austria. It covers an area of 125,000 square
miles, and has a population of nearly sixteen millions.
Politically the country is divided into three parts, namely: Hungary
proper (including the formerly detached Transylvania), the city and
territory of Fiume, and Croatia and Slavonia. Dalmatia, too, ought
to belong under the old laws to the country, but, for a long time
already, it has owned the supremacy of Austria.
[Illustration: BUDA-PESTH.]
Buda-Pesth is the capital of the entire kingdom. Situated on both
banks of the majestic Danube, here spanned by three beautiful bridges,
amongst them the famous suspension bridge, it is one of the finest
cities of Europe. It has nearly 400,000 inhabitants, and is the centre
of Hungary’s political, cultural, industrial, and commercial life.
Fine public and private buildings, some of them beautiful specimens of
architectural art, adorn the city, and it boasts wide thoroughfares,
among which the delightful Corso along the left bank of the Danube, and
the Andrássy Út (Road) leading to the city park, where the national
exhibition of 1885 was located, deserve especial mention. The finest
and largest cities, besides Buda-Pesth, are: Presburg (Pozsony),
on the left bank of the Danube, formerly the seat of the Hungarian
Diet; Comorn (Komárom), on the Danube, too, celebrated for its grand
fortifications; Stuhlweissenburg (Székesfejérvár), once the capital of
Hungary; Raab (Györ); Oedenburg (Soprony); Veszprém, one of the oldest
cities; Erlau (Eger), renowned for its excellent wine; Szeged, the
metropolis of the Alföld and one of the largest cities, which in 1879
was almost entirely destroyed by the overflowing of the Theiss, but
has since been rebuilt, more beautifully than before, after the latest
European pattern; Kassa, the finest city in Upper Hungary; Miskolcz;
Debreczen, one of the most remarkable cities of the Hungarian Alföld
and the seat of a considerable industry; Grosswardein (Nagy-Várad),
the scene of many important historical events; Arad, Temesvár, and
Carlsburg (Gyulafejérvár), all fortified cities memorable in history;
Klausenburg (Kolozsvár), the capital of the former principality
of Transylvania; the flourishing Transylvanian towns of Kronstadt
(Brassó) and Hermannstadt (Szeben), inhabited for the most part by
the descendants of Saxons; Fiume, the seaport on the Adriatic; Agram
(Zágráb), the capital of Croatia, a beautiful city, which, however, was
greatly damaged in 1880 by a terrible earthquake; and Eszék, the most
prominent of the Slavonian towns.
[Illustration: COACHMAN.]
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN TYPES.]
The population of the country is composed of various nationalities.
The conquering Hungarians did not oppress the ancient inhabitants
of the land but left them undisturbed in the use of their native
language, and, even in later days, their tolerance went so far as to
actually favor foreign, and, more particularly, German immigrants,
and to this exceptional forbearance alone must be traced the survival
of so many nationalities, and the lack of assimilation, after so many
centuries. Classified as to languages spoken by the inhabitants, the
chief nationalities number as follows: 1, Hungarians or Magyars,
6,500,000—the ruling, and, so to say, the political nationality of
the country, their language, the Magyar[*] being the language of
the state; 2, Germans, 1,900,000; 3, Roumans, 2,400,000; 4, Slovaks,
1,800,000; 5, Croats and Serbs, 2,400,000; 6, Ruthenes, 350,000. Besides
these there are other nationalities but in insignificant numbers.
[*] The language of the Hungarians, or Magyars, belongs to the
Uralo-Altaic stock, and must be classified with those mixed languages
which have sprung up from the amalgamation of different branches of
the said race. In the case of the Hungarian language we have before
us a mixture of the Finnic-Ugrian and the Turco-Tartar idioms, and
the question of its fundamental basis has been constantly a matter of
dispute between philologists.
Its phonetic system, as a strictly Asiatic language, being essentially
different from that of the Indo-European or Aryan languages, we give
here the following rules of pronunciation to be used in this book:
VOWELS: | CONSONANTS:
_Hungarian._ _English, etc._ | _Hungarian._ _English, etc._
a o in hot. | cs ch in chalk.
á a in far. | cz ts in charts.
e e in net. | gy dy in how d’ you do.
é ai in fail. | ly gl in Italian gli.
i i in pin. | ny gn in Italian ogni.
í ee in deer. | s sh in shirt.
ó o in no. | sz s in saint.
ö eu in French meuble. | ty ty in hit you (tu in
ö eu in French deux. | tune).
u u in full. | zs s in pleasure.
ú oo in too. |
ü u in French juste. |
ü u in French dur. |
The relative numbers of the various religious denominations are, in
round figures, as follows: Roman and Greek (united) Catholics 60%;
Eastern-Greek (non-united), 16%; Lutherans, 7%; Calvinists, 13%;
Unitarians, 1/3 %; Jews, 4%.
With respect to their cultural condition, the people may be said to be
abreast of the nations of Western Europe in every thing but industry,
commerce, and some branches of science. In recent years especially a
great improvement has taken place in popular education, owing to the
large and daily increasing number of schools, and the law which compels
children to attend school. There are, for the purpose of advancing
learning and cultivating the various branches of science, a variety
of conspicuous scientific institutions, literary societies, reading
clubs, and public and private libraries. In journalistic literature the
country is equal to any country on the European continent.
[Illustration: CHILDREN FROM THE DISTRICT OF THE SAVE.]
The constitution of the kingdom is one of the most liberal in
Europe. The estates were represented at the Diet up to 1848, but
under the present constitution the government is based upon popular
representation. The Parliament or National Assembly consists of two
Houses, the House of Representatives and the Upper House, or House of
Lords, and in these two bodies and the king is vested the legislative
power. The national affairs are administered by eight ministerial
departments; the affairs in common with Austria are settled by a
delegation from the two Houses of Parliament which meets an Austrian
Parliamentary delegation once in every year, and administered by three
common ministerial departments—for foreign affairs, for the common
army, and for the finances, respectively.
In conclusion it may be added that the description given above of the
favorable concurrence of soil and climate is fully borne out by the
abundance of fine cattle of every description possessed by the country,
by a bountiful production of cereals which has earned for Hungary the
name of the granary of Europe, by the growth of the greatest variety of
fruit and forest trees, and finally by the rich products of the mining
regions we have adverted to before.
This chapter, however, would be incomplete were we not to mention the
gigantic efforts made by the national government in every direction
during the last two decades to raise Hungary from a mere agricultural
state to an industrial and commercial state as well, by fostering
her domestic industries and providing good highways, a fine net of
railways, steam and other navigation, in order to afford an easy and
cheap outlet to the abundance of natural products with which nature has
blessed her.
These patriotic efforts, considering the short space of time they
cover, have been attended with signal success, and have culminated
in the National Exhibition of 1885, held at Buda-Pesth, which fitly
illustrated to its many visitors, amounting to nearly a million, the
extraordinary progress made by the country in the last years.
[Illustration: A “KOLA.”]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER II.
HUNGARY BEFORE THE OCCUPATION BY THE MAGYARS.
The historic period of Hungary begins, properly speaking, with the
first century before our era, when Pannonia, comprising the regions
watered by the Danube and Drave, was conquered by the victorious arms
of Rome. Prehistoric traces, however, may be met with in abundance,
which, with the aid of archæological inquiry, indicate that the soil
of Hungary was already inhabited in the neolithic age and in that
of bronze by populations who, judged by the mementoes left behind
them, which were unearthed by the present generation, must have stood
on the same level of civilization as the rest of Europe at those
periods. Certain articles dating from the age of bronze show even
such marked national peculiarities as to lead to the supposition that
the heterogeneous tribes were all under the influence of one kind of
culture. The Pannonians, after a protracted struggle, were subjugated
by Tiberius, the stepson of the emperor Augustus. One of the art gems
of antiquity, the so-called _Apotheosis of Augustus_, to be seen in the
museum of antiquities at Vienna, commemorates the triumph of Tiberius.
The conquering general is represented as stepping from his chariot to
do homage to Augustus and Livia, who are seated on a throne in godlike
forms. Below, Roman soldiers are raising trophies, whilst the conquered
leader is sitting on the ground with his arms tied behind his back. The
reduction of the Dacians, to whose realm Transylvania belonged, took
place under Trajan, a century later. To this day stands in Rome the
pillar of Trajan, erected in memory of his successful campaign in Dacia.
[Illustration: ROMAN AND DACIANS, FROM TRAJAN’S COLUMN.]
In Trajan’s time already Pannonia differed in no wise from the other
Roman provinces. Under a Roman administration the language of Rome
soon gained ground, although the legions placed there were by no means
Roman or even Italian, but consisted for the most part of Romanized
Spaniards, Belgians, Britons, and inhabitants of the Alpine provinces.
The towns became municipalities and colonies, and their inhabitants
enjoyed the privilege of self-government conceded to every Roman
citizen. Dacia, too, became, under that name, a Roman province, and
the Romanizing process was no less rapid there than it had been in
Pannonia. The blessings of Roman civilization followed, as usual,
in the train of Roman conquests. Cities soon sprang up in the newly
organized provinces, and were connected with each other as well as
with Rome by fine highways, traces of which may be met with here and
there to this day. The cultivation of the vine was introduced under
Roman rule, and the regular working of the gold and salt mines of
Transylvania began at that period. The life in the provinces was
modelled after the Roman pattern, for the Roman brought with him his
customs, institutions, language, and mode of life. The newly built
cities boasted of public places, of amphitheatres, of public baths,
the resort of pleasure-seekers and idlers; nor was the forum with its
statues wanting. The border towns had their _castrum_, giving them a
peculiar character of their own.
[Illustration: A ROMAN TEMPLE.]
For four centuries these provinces shared the destinies of the Roman
empire. The enemies of Rome were their enemies, too, and when, under
the emperor Marcus Aurelius, in the latter part of the second century
of our era, the German nations combined in an attack on the Romans,
the Marcomanni, who were renowned for their savage bravery, made a
successful inroad into Pannonia, and crossing the Danube devastated
the whole land. Commodus, the son of Marcus Aurelius, was satisfied
to maintain only the integrity of the vast possessions he inherited,
and was averse to new conquests in the direction of the Carpathians.
His policy was to protect and defend the natural boundary line formed
by the Danube, a policy which gave the legions located there an undue
prominence. From this time forth Rome had to be defended in Pannonia,
for already at that period the mighty revolution, called the migration
of nations—the pressing forward of populations from the North and East
toward the civilized West and South—began to be felt. It was quite
natural that the Pannonian legions should, under the circumstances,
become aware of the importance of their position, and undertake to
direct the destinies of Rome from that distant province. Roman history
records that it was by the proclamation of these legions that Septimius
Severus, Maximin, and Aurelian became emperors. The emperors Claudius
II., Probus, and Valentinian I. were of Pannonian origin. The infant
son of the latter, Valentinian II., was brought by the widowed empress
Justina into the camp, and there the legions swore allegiance to him.
The time was now approaching when the waning power of the Roman empire
became more and more unequal to the task of defending her provinces.
Aurelian already had withdrawn the Roman legions from Dacia and allowed
the Goths to settle there, and Probus had introduced the Goths into
Lower Pannonia. Roman influence and Roman protection began to be of
little value; the great empire, weakened by internal dissensions, by
the internecine wars waged against each other by imperial pretenders,
torn by religious disputes, and finally divided, hastened to its
downfall.
At this period a new people made its appearance in Europe on the
shores of the Black Sea and along the banks of the Danube, namely,
the Huns, who were pushing before them the Goths towards the West.
They differed in race from the Germans, Slavs, and Romans, and they
had in Attila a leader capable of uniting under his sway the most
discordant ethnical elements. Ostrogoths, Gepidæ, Vandals, Alans,
Rugians, mostly Germanic populations, followed the banners of the
foreign leader, trusting in his good fortune and awed and magnetized by
his great personal qualities. He pushed forward with an immense number
of followers, gathering strength as he advanced by the accession of
the barbarous nations, bearing down and destroying every thing before
him. Theodosius II., Emperor of the East, agreed to pay tribute to
the king of the Huns; but in order to disguise to his subjects the
disgraceful transaction, he appointed Attila a general of the empire,
so that the tribute should have the appearance of official pay. But
Attila was not satisfied with this, and broke the peace, overran the
Balkan peninsula, pillaged the Byzantine provinces, and destroyed
the cities until he obtained his own terms. Priscus Rhetor, who was
one of the embassy sent by Theodosius II. to the court of Attila,
describes the wooden structure in which the king of the Huns dwelt on
the banks of the Theiss, somewhere in the vicinity of Szeged, and the
feasting there. Kings sat at the table, lords sang Attila’s heroic
deeds, and the guests drank each other’s health from vessels of gold.
Heathen and Christian, Roman citizens and Asiatic barbarians, as
well as the representatives of the Germanic tribes, mixed with each
other and thronged his court. It was during one of those feasts, in
453, as he was celebrating his nuptials, that the mighty king of the
Huns was carried off by a fit of apoplexy. Whilst the sons of Attila
were contending with each other for the possession of the empire, the
Germanic populations fell upon the divided Huns and drove them back to
the Black Sea.
The Gepidæ remained now the masters of the country east of the Danube,
whilst the Ostrogoths occupied the ancient Roman province. The latter,
however, under the lead of their king Theodoric, migrated in a body
to Italy, crossing the Alps, and founded there, on the ruins of the
Roman empire, a Gothic kingdom. The Gepidæ remained in consequence the
sole ruling people in Hungary; but as they proved dangerous neighbors
to the Eastern empire, Justinian invited the Longobards to settle in
Pannonia, and gave to the Avars, who now made their first appearance in
Europe and had asked him for land to settle on, the left bank of the
lower Danube. About this time, too, Slavic populations came into the
country, crossing the Carpathian mountains and peopling the deserted
land. Gepidæ, Longobards, and Avars could not dwell long in peace
together, and the first collision took place between the Longobards and
the Gepidæ on the banks of the Danube. This was followed by another
hostile outbreak, in which the Longobards obtained the alliance of
the Avars against the Gepidæ, resulting in the total overthrow of the
latter. Shortly afterwards the Longobards, following an invitation from
Italy, emigrated thither. Thus the Avars were left in sole possession
of the country, ruling over populations chiefly Slavic. The empire they
founded lasted two centuries and a half. The Avars were partly remnants
of those Huns who had been the terror of Europe, and their numbers were
in part swelled by new recruits coming from Asia.
Baján was the first and most dreaded prince of the Avars. During his
reign of thirty-two years the Byzantine emperor was compelled to
conciliate the warlike humor of the Avar prince by an annual tribute
of splendid presents, which, however, did not prevent the latter from
undertaking pillaging expeditions, on more than one occasion, into
Thrace, Mœsia, and Macedonia. Although a warlike people the Avars
seemed to lack the necessary skill and experience for besieging and
capturing fortified places. Their rule was characterized by cruelty,
want of faith, and destructive propensities. In course of time they
became more inclined to peace; wealth, indulgence in wine, and commerce
having rendered them effeminate and less formidable. They were finally
conquered, towards the end of the eighth century, by Charlemagne and
his Franks, who carried on against them for seven years one of the
most cruel and desolating wars known to history. Charlemagne’s own
historiographer tells us that one might have travelled through the
entire land for months, after the termination of the war, without
meeting with a single house—so utter and terrible were the ruin and
destruction. The downfall of the Avars was irretrievable.
The rule of the Romans had lasted four hundred years in Pannonia;
the Huns, Ostrogoths, Gepidæ, and Longobards enjoyed a span of power
of a little over a century taking them altogether, whilst the Avars
maintained their supremacy for two hundred and fifty years.
A century after their downfall appeared on the scene the Magyars, who
founded an empire which still endures, having survived the storms of a
thousand years.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER III.
THE ORIGIN OF THE HUNGARIANS.
The story of the origin of the Hungarians is generally derived from two
different sources. One, purely mythical or legendary, is said to have
come down from the forefathers to the present generation, and, clad in
a somewhat fanciful garb, runs as follows:
Nimrod, the man of gigantic stature, a descendant of Japheth, one of
the sons of Noah, migrated after the confusion of languages at the
building of the tower of Babel to the land of Havila. There his wife,
Eneh, bore him two sons, Hunyor and Magyar. One day as the two brothers
were out hunting in the forests of the Caucasus, they happened to fall
in with a doe. They at once gave chase, but on reaching the moorlands
of the Sea of Azov the noble animal suddenly vanished before their
very eyes. The brothers, in pursuing the track of their game, had
wandered through a wide expanse of country, and perceiving that the
rich meadows were admirably suited to the needs of a pastoral people,
they immediately returned to their father and asked his consent to
their departure. They obtained his consent without difficulty, and
settled with their herds of cattle in those regions where grass grew
luxuriantly.
The two brothers had lived quietly for five years in their new homes,
when the thought occurred to them, more thoroughly to investigate the
surrounding country. They accordingly set out on their journey, roaming
along the steppes, when their ears were suddenly caught by the sounds
of voices singing, which the east wind had wafted in their direction.
Led on by the pleasing sounds the wanderers’ eyes were met by a lovely
sight. Before them the daughters of the dwellers in the woods were
disporting themselves beneath their tents, celebrating the Feast of the
Hunting-horn, in the absence of their husbands and brothers. Hunyor and
Magyar were delighted at this unexpected encounter and quickly carried
away the women to their own abode. Amongst the ravished women were two
maids of rare beauty, the daughters of Dula, the prince of the Alans.
Hunyor took one, and Magyar the other, for his spouse. From them sprang
the kindred nations of the Huns and Magyars, or Hungarians, both of
which in due course of time, grew to be mighty.
After the lapse of many years the descendants of the two brothers had
increased to such an extent that the territory they dwelt in proved too
small to support them all. North of their homes lay blessed Scythia,
bounded on the east by the Ural mountains, on the southeast by the
sandsteppes, rich in salt, and the Caspian Sea, and on the south by the
Don river. After having thoroughly reconnoitred this country they drove
out the inhabitants, one portion of the people spreading over their
newly acquired home and taking possession of it, whilst the remaining
portion continued to occupy their former country. The progeny of Hunyor
settled in the northeastern part of the country beyond the Volga,
whilst the descendants of Magyar, pushing upwards along the Don,
pitched their tents on the left bank of the river. The latter were
afterwards known by the name of the Don-Magyars, and their country by
that of Dontumogeria—that is, the Don Magyarland.
In proportion as the two kindred races increased and came in contact
with various other nations, they began to differ from each other
more and more widely in their ways and manners. The Huns being more
exposed to the attacks of the roving populations than the Magyars,
who were protected by the Caspian Sea and endless steppes, became,
in consequence, more warlike, and adopted ruder manners. Twenty-two
generations had passed away since the death of the two brothers, who
had been the founders of their nations, when for reasons unknown the
Huns resolved to emigrate from their country. Whilst the Magyars
continued to dwell quietly along the Don, the Huns proceeded with an
immense army, each tribe contributing ten thousand men, against Western
Europe, conquering and rendering tributary, in the course of their
wanderings, numerous nations, and finally settled in the region of
the Theiss and Danube. Later on, however, in the middle of the fifth
century, when the world-renowned Attila, “the scourge of God,” came
into power, the Huns carried their victorious arms over a great part of
the western world.
The immense empire, however, which had been founded by King Attila, was
destined to be but of short duration after the death of its founder.
His sons Aladar and Csaba, in their contention for the inheritance,
resorted to arms. The war ended with the utter destruction of the
nation. All of the followers of Aladar perished; Csaba, however,
succeeded in escaping from the destroying arms of the neighboring
nations who had fallen on the quarrelling brothers, with but about
fifteen thousand men to the territories of the Greek empire. A few
thousands, who had deserted Csaba, fled to Transylvania, and settled
there in the eastern mountain-regions. The descendants of the latter
became subsequently merged with the immigrating Hungarians, and formed
with them a homogeneous family under the name of Szeklers, which
continues to exist to this day. Csaba, whose mother was an imperial
daughter of Greece, met with a friendly reception at the hands of the
Greek emperor, Marcianus, and remained in that country for a few years.
He returned afterwards with the remainder of his people to the home of
his ancestors, on the banks of the Don, where, up to the time of his
death, he never tired of inciting the Magyars to emigrate to Pannonia
and to revenge themselves on their enemies by reconquering the empire
of Attila.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN SHEPHERD]
In turning to the second source of the history of the origin of the
Hungarians, we are treading upon the firmer ground of scientific
inquiry; we can penetrate the hazy light of remote antiquity, and
venture the assertion that it is far away in the distant East—namely,
in the Altai mountains, that we may look for the cradle of the Magyar
race. Here was, as the reader may be aware, the coterminous frontier
of the three principal branches of the Uralo-Altaic race—namely, the
Mongolians in the east, the Finn-Ugrians in the north, and the Turks
in the south. With a population of strictly nomadic habits and of
eminently roaming propensities, it needs scarcely to be said that the
three branches lived in continual feud and warfare near each other. A
great convulsion in the life of these nomads happened, as we presume,
in the second or third century after Christ. The Turks, on seeing the
more flourishing state of things with their Finn-Ugrian neighbors in
the north, fell upon them suddenly, drove them from their homes in the
valleys of the Altai mountains, where traces of their industry are
still extant, and scattered the various tribes and families, partly to
the north—namely, to Siberia; partly to the west—namely, to Southern
Russia.
From that extraordinary throng and revolutionary migration emerged the
Voguls and Ostyaks, who live at this day on both sides of the great
Obi river; the Zyrians, who now live in the governments of Archangel
and Vologda; farther the Votyaks and Tcheremisses, a motley crowd of
men who are of Finn-Ugrian extraction, but strongly intermixed with
Turco-Tartar blood.
Now, of similar origin are the Hungarians, with this difference,
that with them the Turco-Tartar origin forms the basis of their
ethnical character, and that the Finn-Ugrians who amalgamated with
them afterward, being a subjugated population, remained always in a
moral inferiority, although they greatly influenced the governing
class. We do not know precisely whether the amalgamation took place
in the valleys of the Altai, or farther west on the Volga, at some
later period, nor can we form an accurate idea as to the part the
Hungarians took in the irruption of the Huns, with which event they
are associated in national tradition. The Huns were unquestionably
Turks by extraction. Their mode of warfare, their religion, and
social life present full evidence of this, and admitting that they
had in their ranks either pure Finn-Ugrian elements or portions of
the above-mentioned amalgamated populations, we may fairly claim that
the ancestors of the Hungarians took part in the great devastating
campaigns which Attila carried on against Rome and the Christian
West as far as France. In this sense, the claim of the Hungarians to
descent from the Huns is fully justified. But, as the plan of this
work excludes the discussion of questions wrapped in the clouds of
scientific speculations we will turn to that portion of the history of
the Hungarians which is cleared up by historical evidence, and will
begin with the ninth century, when they emerged from the banks of the
Volga and began their march toward the West, a march which resulted in
their occupation of Hungary.
Before entering into the details of the march of the Magyars towards
their present home, we must try to sketch as briefly as possible the
geographical and ethnographical conditions of the country between the
Volga and the Danube in the ninth century. It must be borne in mind
that at that time the Russians were in a considerable minority in
those regions. East of the Volga, as far as the Ural River, and even
beyond, roamed various tribes of the vast Turkish race, amongst whom
the Petchenegs occupied the foremost rank. On the lower course of the
Volga and further west, lived the Khazars, a Turkish tribe of advanced
culture, who carried on a flourishing trade on the Caspian and Black
seas, and had embraced the Jewish religion. These Khazars were the
mightiest of the Turkish races of that time, and their wars with Persia
and with the rising Mohammedan power became of historic importance.
Westward of the Khazars dwelt another fraction of the Petchenegs, the
frontiers of whose country extended across Moldavia to the borders of
Transylvania, whilst the Magyars or Hungarians, who had occupied a
country called Lebedia, were compelled by the Petchenegs to emigrate to
Etelkuzu, not remaining there, however, for any great length of time.
In fact the whole of Southern Russia of to-day was teeming, during
the ninth century, with nomadic populations. These pressed upon each
other in the search for pasture grounds for their numerous cattle.
There is a great likelihood that the fame of the rich plains of Hungary
had remained in the memory of the Magyars from the time when their
forefathers fought under the banners of Attila. Suffice it to say that,
compelled by circumstances, they made up their minds to go westward,
and the seven dukes who stood at that time at the head of the nation,
and whose names were Álmos, Elöd, Kund, Huba, Tas, Und, and Tuhutum,
united in a solemn league and covenant, and putting Álmos, as the
oldest amongst them, at their head, they sealed that union with the old
Turkish form of oath, by drinking each of the blood of all, obtained by
cutting open the veins of their arms. This form of oath was for a long
time a custom in Hungary. The union of the Hungarians was based upon
the following five conditions:
1. As long as they and their progeny after them shall live, their duke
and ruler shall be always taken from the house of Álmos.
2. Whatever should be acquired by the united strength of all must
benefit all those who belonged to them.
3. The chiefs of the people having voluntarily elected Álmos for
their ruler, they and their descendants shall always take part in the
councils of the prince, and shall have their share in the honors of the
empire.
4. Whenever any of their descendants shall be found wanting in the
fidelity due to the prince, or shall foment dissensions between him and
his kindred, the blood of the guilty one shall be shed even as theirs
was flowing when they gave their oaths of fidelity to Álmos.
5. Should a successor of Álmos offend against this oath and covenant of
the fathers, then might the curse rest on him.
[Illustration: ELECTION OF ÁLMOS, THE FIRST DUKE.]
We have no accurate information concerning the number of Hungarian
warriors and of their retinues who entered Hungary towards the end
of the ninth century, nor can we point out those localities on
the eastern frontier of the country through which the entrance was
effected. As to the numbers, we do not go amiss if we assume that no
more than one hundred and fifty thousand fighting men formed the main
body of the invaders. Their ranks were swelled partly by Russians who
followed in their track, partly by Avars, a kindred Turkish population,
whom they found in the country itself, and by Khazars, who, preceding
the Hungarians, were leading a nomadic life on the steppe. Regarding
the country itself, it must be borne in mind that in those days it was
very thinly populated, and the ethnical conditions were somewhat as
follows: In the west there were Slovenes and Germans; in the north,
namely, in the Carpathian mountains, lived the compact mass of the
Slovaks, whose sway extended down to the banks of the Theiss. The
country between that river and the Danube belonged to the Bulgarian
prince, Zalán, whilst the region on the left bank of the Theiss, as
far as the river Szamos, was in the possession of Marót, the prince of
the Khazars. The conquest of Hungary was evidently a task of no great
difficulty for a warlike nation like the Hungarians, whose strange
physiognomy and superior weapons, brought from the Caucasus, struck
terror, at the very outset, into the breasts of the inhabitants. The
invaders appeared with their small, sturdy, and hardy horses, quick
as lightning and strong as iron. Their mode of warfare was strictly
Asiatic, similar to that used to this day by the Turcomans, and they
were animated precisely by the same spirit which led the Mongolians,
under Jenghis Khan, over the whole of Asia and a large portion of
Europe. With all this, they could not be called barbarians or savages,
when their social and political institutions were compared with those
of the inhabitants they subjugated in Hungary. It was the culture
of Persia which extended at that time up to the banks of the Volga,
penetrating the minds of the motley populations living there, and
traces of this culture are clearly to be discovered in the acts of
the leading persons amongst the conquering Hungarians. As soon as the
Hungarians had taken possession of their present country, under the
leadership of Árpád, it became their chief care to give a certain
stability to their internal affairs. Scattered over the extensive
territory, they more particularly endeavored to bring order into
their relations with the former inhabitants. Those only who refused
to lay down their arms felt the weight of the conquerors; whilst they
reciprocated the friendship and confidence shown to them by others.
Thus it happened that many of the ancient inhabitants were adopted by
them for their own countrymen, and that, having entered into a treaty
of amity with Marót, a treaty made firmer by the betrothal of Árpád’s
youngest son, Zoltán, with Marót’s daughter, the territory of Bihar was
added to Hungary after the death of Marót. According to the fashion of
the Scythian populations, they disturbed no one in his faith, nor did
they interfere with any one’s mode of worship. Nomads as they were,
they knew how to appreciate what was still left of the ancient culture
in their new country, and they fostered the colonial places still
surviving from the Roman period, the cradles of the future city life of
Hungary.
There is an account in the history of the Hungarians how the different
portions of the invading army spread over the country, what battles
they fought, what alliances they entered into with the reigning
princes, but the account is based merely upon legendary tradition.
We are sadly in want of details about that most interesting epoch,
and supported by historical authority we can only state that Leo the
Wise, the emperor of Byzantium, asked the military assistance of the
Hungarians against the Bulgarians, and that it was the sword of the
valiant nomadic warriors which averted a threatening calamity from
Constantinople. It is likewise certain that Arnulph, King of Germany,
encouraged by the military reputation of the Magyars, asked their
assistance against Svatopluk, King of Moravia, and that their first
appearance in the country is connected with this occurrence.
The conquest of Hungary occupied the period between 884 and 895.
Within this time falls the utter defeat and tragic end of Svatopluk,
the most powerful native prince with whom the Hungarians had to
contend. Arnulph had already engaged him in battle when the Hungarians
came to the succor of the former. Their timely arrival decided the
fate of the battle, which resulted in the complete rout and scattering
of the Moravians. Svatopluk, is said to have done wonders of heroism
during the battle, but after its fatal termination he could nowhere
be found. In vain was the bloody field searched for the body of the
unfortunate leader, nor were the messengers sent out to remoter regions
to obtain news of him more successful in their quest. Hungarian
tradition has it that in his rage and despair at the loss of the
battle, he rushed into the Danube, and met there with a watery grave.
Slavic tradition, however, represents the matter in a manner more in
keeping with the character and reckless disposition of this strange
barbarian, who knew but unbridled passions and sudden resolutions
formed on the spur of the moment. According to these traditions,
Svatopluk, seeing that his fortunes were hopelessly wrecked, mounted
a steed and, leaving the battle-field, swiftly rode away into the
fastnesses of the interminable forests covering the Zobor mountain,
which overlooks in massive grandeur towards the east and south the town
and castle of Nyitra, and was then lost to sight. Here in a secluded
valley, amidst rocks, and protected by pathless woods, lived three
hermits. These holy men passed their lives in offering up prayers to
God in a chapel constructed by their own hands, and, entirely absorbed
by their pious exercises, they knew no other nourishment but herbs and
the fruit growing wild. These men, who did not visit the neighboring
cities, had never seen Svatopluk, and this was the very reason that
brought the king of the Moravians to their hermitage. As he reached
late in the night a place where the forest was densest, he dismounted,
killed his horse, and, together with his royal mantle and crown, buried
it in a ditch, and covered up the place of burial with earth and
leaves. He then tore his garments and soiled them with mud, and in this
guise, pretending to be a beggar, he came to the three hermits and told
them that, moved by the Holy Spirit, he desired to pass his life with
them. He was cordially received by the hermits and lived amongst them
a great many years unknown, praying as they did, partaking of the same
food they ate, and like them dead to all the memories of the outside
world. In his last moments only he told them his real name, and the
hermits, in their childlike astonishment at this incredulous adventure,
placed the following inscription on his tombstone: “Here rests
Svatopluk, the king of Moravia, buried in the centre of his kingdom.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IV.
THE REIGN OF THE DUKES.
Árpád, called by the Greek writers Arpadis, was the first ruler of
Hungary, who laid the foundations of the present kingdom, and whose
statesmanlike sagacity may well excite admiration, considering that
under his lead a strictly Asiatic nation succeeded in penetrating into
the very interior of Christian Europe and moulding a state out of
the heterogeneous elements of old Pannonia. For this reason we find
it improper to call him a rude barbarian, as contemporary Christian
writers are in the habit of doing. He evidently was penetrated with
the Persian culture and his Oriental statesmanship not only equalled
but even surpassed the political ideas of the ruling men at that time
at the head of affairs in Pannonia and Eastern Germany. Arriving, as
he did, with a restless and adventurous nomadic people; he could not
mitigate at once the martial rudeness of the latter. Like other Turkish
and Mongolian masses the Hungarians, very soon after the occupation of
the country, rushed out into the neighboring lands to gratify their
lust of adventure and booty. They penetrated into Germany, spreading
terror and devastation everywhere. On a larger scale was their
inroad into Italy in 899, where King Berengar was defeated on the
banks of the Brenta. Twenty thousand Italians were slain, the wealthy
cities of Milan, Pavia, and Brescia were plundered, and the invaders
crossed even the Po. It was only by the payment of a large ransom that
the Italians could free themselves from the scourge of these Asiatic
conquerors. Encouraged by this success the Hungarians, in the following
year, entered Germany, trying their arms with varying fortune, until
a common decision of the chieftains arrested these incursions. In 907
the nation was saddened by a mournful event. The ruler who had founded
the new empire, who for nearly twenty years had directed the destinies
of the nation with so much wisdom and energy, and in whom the glory
of great statesmanship and generalship was united, had ceased to be
amongst the living. His body was, according to ancient custom, burned
and his ashes buried near a brook flowing at that time in a pebbly bed
towards Etzelburg, the Old-Buda of to-day. His grateful descendants,
after the introduction of Christianity, erected on that spot a church,
called the White Church of the Virgin, in commemoration of the immortal
prince. He was succeeded by his son Zoltán, who had to seize the reins
at a comparatively tender age, and who was therefore assisted by three
governors. This circumstance encouraged the neighboring princes to
fall upon Hungary in order to drive the new conquerors out of the
country. Luitpold, Duke of Bavaria, and Ditmar, Archbishop of Salzburg,
together with others, led the united army in three different columns,
flattering themselves with the hope that, imitating the tactics of
Charlemagne against the Avars, they would be as successful as that
famous ruler of the Franks.
[Illustration: ÁRPÁD TAKES POSSESSION OF HUNGARY.]
The Hungarians, menaced by such an imminent danger, concentrated all
their forces to resist the onslaught. Always quick to resolve and as
quick in their movements, they anticipated the attack, and the two
hostile armies met in 907 in the environs of Presburg. The struggle
on both sides was a bitter one. The zeal of the Germans, on the one
hand, was excited by the prospect of ridding themselves and the whole
Occident of the disagreeable neighborhood of these dangerous intruders,
whilst with the Hungarians, on the other hand, it was a question of
self-preservation, for in case of a defeat they had every thing at
stake. The latter, therefore, fought with the utmost vehemence, not in
regular battle array, after the German fashion, but with their storming
divisions, furious attacks, feigned retreats, and renewed onslaughts,
their arrows and javelins descending every time like a hail-storm, they
broke through the serried ranks of the Germans and rode down every
thing that was in their way. The sun rose and set three times over the
heads of the fighting armies before the great battle was decided. The
Germans were hopelessly defeated. Duke Luitpold lost his life fighting,
and with him the Archbishop of Salzburg, as well as most of the
bishops, abbots, and counts, laid down their lives during those three
fatal days.
It was but natural that, encouraged by this successful battle, the
Hungarians should eagerly continue their marauding expeditions in
every direction into Germany and even France. Dividing into small
bands, just as the Turcomans used to do up to quite recent times in
Persia, the Hungarians infested the whole of Saxony and Thuringia,
and penetrated as far as Bremen. They crossed the Rhine, flooded a
part of France, and quick as were their inroads, no less promptly did
they return, always laden with rich booty and driving before them a
long file of slaves of both sexes. The entire Occident was continually
harassed by them, and this gave rise to those dire misrepresentations
of the Hungarians and to the execrations against them which could be
heard all over the western world during the tenth century, and which
were faithfully copied into the chronicles of that time. In these
chronicles they were charged with devouring the hearts of their enemies
in order to render themselves irresistible in battle. Signs in the
heavens were said to herald their approach. Virgins devoted to the
service of God foretold the irruptions of the Hungarians and their own
martyrdom. Mere human power seemed hopeless against them; the litanies
of that time, therefore, abound in special prayers asking for the
protection of the Lord. Impartial history easily recognizes in all this
partly exaggerations, partly outbreaks of dismay, and the effects of
fright, but these utterances, overdrawn as they are, contribute much
to our knowledge of the violence of the struggle between the western
Christians and the Asiatic Hungarians. Quite differently and by no
means so dreadfully are the Hungarians described by the Byzantine
historians. Their reputation for ferocity, and the knowledge of the
terror they inspired, enhanced their valor and audacity. Neglecting
all precautionary measures, and undervaluing their enemies, they began
to meet here and there with small disasters, and, as the Germans on
the other hand, becoming familiar with their mode of warfare, and more
accustomed to the strange appearance of Asiatic warriors, grew bolder
and bolder, we may easily account for the turn which gradually took
place in the war fortunes of the Magyars. It was Henry the Fowler, King
of Germany, who, after making preparations for nine years, inflicted
the first heavy loss upon the Hungarian adventurers near Merseburg
in 933. The Germans rushed into the battle with the cry of “Kyrie
eleyson,” whilst the Hungarians were wildly shouting “Hooy, Hooy.” The
Saxon horsemen caught up the Hungarian arrows with their shields, and
in solid ranks threw themselves in fierce onset upon the Hungarians.
The latter perceived with surprise and dismay that they were opposed by
a well-organized enemy. During the hand-in-hand fight which now ensued
the Germans achieved victory by their determined bravery. A great
many Hungarians fell in the fight, and many more were killed during
their retreat. The number of killed is assumed to have been thirty-six
thousand. The Hungarian camp with all the baggage fell into the hands
of the victors. Henry commanded that a universal thanksgiving feast
should be observed throughout the whole of Germany, and ordered that
the tribute hitherto paid to the Hungarians should be divided between
the churches and the poor.
The Hungarians now refrained from entering Germany in a northern
direction, but the more frequent and more vehement grew their
irruptions into Bavaria and also into the northern portion of the
Byzantine empire. It was the old lust of conquest and adventure, and
greediness for booty which spurred their activity. Duke Taksony, who
succeeded his father Zoltán in 946, and reigned until 972, was animated
by the same lawless spirit, and the Hungarians would have continued
to be the scourge of the neighboring countries if the defensive
measures taken by the Germans about this time had not acted as a dam
against their devastating flood. In the year 955, on the river Lech,
near Augsburg, King Otto the Great inflicted a terrible defeat upon
the Hungarians—a defeat by which nearly the whole of the Hungarian
army, numbering forty thousand men was annihilated. Their generals,
Bulcsee and Lehel were captured; the chains of gold they wore around
their necks, as well as other trinkets of gold and silver, were taken
from them, and at last they were carried to Ratisbon, and were made
to suffer a disgraceful death by being hanged. A part of their fellow
captives were buried alive, whilst the others were tortured to death
in the most cruel manner. The remainder of the army was destroyed in
its retreat by the people who had everywhere risen, and, according to
tradition, but seven were left to reach their homes. The Magyars, a
proud nation even in their misfortune, were so incensed against these
fugitives for having preferred a cowardly flight to a heroic death,
that they were scornfully nicknamed the _Melancholy Magyars_, and
condemned to servitude. Even their descendants wandered about through
the land as despised beggars.
A tradition has survived amongst the people to this day, about the
death of Lehel and his reputed ivory bugle-horn, upon which there
are carved representations of battles. It is true that archæological
inquiry has proved its sculpture to be of Roman workmanship and that it
was a drinking-cup rather than a bugle. The legend, however, as still
current amongst the Hungarians, deserves to be told for the sake of its
romantic character.
Amidst the confusion and wild disorder incident upon the disastrous
battle of Augsburg, Duke Lehel found no time to give thought to his
battle-horn. His horse had been killed under him, and whilst he lay
buried beneath it the trusty sword was wrenched from the hand of the
hero before he could pierce his own heart with it. Taken prisoner he
was led captive into the presence of the victorious Otto.
Princely judges sat in judgment on the princely captive and condemned
him to death. This sentence caused Lehel no pain; he felt he had
deserved it, not, indeed, for having given battle but for losing it.
Yet it hurt him to the soul to see the rebel Conrad seated amongst his
judges, the traitor who had invited the Hungarians to enter Germany,
and who, by his defection, had caused their defeat. The success of his
dastardly desertion had, however, conciliated the victors and restored
him to their confidence.
Lehel begged but for one favor, and that was to be allowed to wind the
horn, his faithful and inseparable friend, once more, and to sound on
it his funeral dirge. The horn was handed to him. He sounded it for the
last time; and, as he drew from it the sad strains which sounded far
and wide and were mournfully re-echoed by the distant hills, the dying
warrior on the field of Lech lifted up his head, eagerly listening to
the familiar bugle, and the soul which had come back to him, for one
instant, took wings again as soon as the sad strains died away. The
dying music, plaintively quivering, told the tale of an inglorious
death terminating an heroic life. The very henchmen were listening with
rapture.
At that moment Lehel broke away from his place, and, seeing Conrad
before him, felled him to the ground, killing him with a single blow
from the heavy horn. “Thou shalt go before me and be my servant in the
other world,” said Lehel. Thereupon he went to the place of execution.
There is discernible on Lehel’s horn, in our days, a large indentation
which posterity attributes to the event just narrated.
Not only in Germany but also in the southeast of Europe the marauding
Hungarians experienced more than one disaster, and it may be properly
said that in 970, when they attacked the Byzantine empire and were
defeated near Arcadiopolis, their long series of irruptions into
the adjoining countries was brought to a conclusion. They became
convinced that while they themselves were steadily decreasing in
numbers and wasting their strength in continuous wars, the neighboring
nations were becoming every day more formidable by dint of their
unanimity, organization, courage, and skill in warfare, and that, in
consequence, the Hungarian name inspired no more the terror which
the first successes had earned for it. They saw that if they went on
with their inroads, as hitherto, they would thereby but bring about
the dissolution of the empire from within, or that they might provoke
on the part of foreign nations a united attack which they would be
unable to withstand. For this reason they renounced those adventurous
campaigns which began already seriously to menace their existence and
their future in Europe.
They were strengthened in the wisdom of this course by Duke Geyza, who
succeeded his father in 972, and reigned until 997. Baptized during
the life of his father at Constantinople, and having married Sarolta,
the mild-tempered daughter of Duke Gyula, of Transylvania, he became
very early awake to the necessity of refining the rude manners of his
people. His disposition became much more apparent when, after the death
of his first wife, he married the sister of Miecislas, the prince of
Poland, a lady famous for her beauty, and also conspicuous for her
energy and masculine qualities, for she vied in riding, drinking, and
the chase with her chivalrous husband, upon whom she really exercised
an extraordinary influence. Extremely severe in his rule, it was Geyza
who began to transform the manners and habits of the Magyars. They
began to show greater toleration towards foreign religions, and were
really on the eve of changing their Asiatic manners and habits into
those of Europe. More than a hundred years had passed since their
migration from the ancestral steppes. Historical events, difference of
climate, and, above all, the separation from their Asiatic brethren
had carried into oblivion very many features of that political and
social life which, originating in Asia, could not be well continued
in the immediate neighborhood of, and in the continual contact with,
the Western world. The great crisis in the national career appears to
have arrived at its culmination during the reign of Duke Geyza, and to
have found its ultimate solution in the conversion of the Magyars to
Christianity, a most important act in the national life of the people,
which deserves consideration in a separate chapter.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER V.
THE CONVERSION TO CHRISTIANITY.
The Hungarians, when entering their present homes, were heathens, and
professed what is called _Shamanism_, the faith common to all the
branches of the vast Uralo-Altaic race, and which has survived to this
day amongst the populations of Southern Siberia and Western Mongolia.
The doctrines and principles of Shamanism being generally but little
known, it is proper to sketch here its outlines, in order to make clear
the character of the Hungarian religious rites and customs.
The believers in Shamanism adored one Supreme Being called _Isten_,
a word borrowed from the Persians, who attach to it to this day the
meaning of God. Besides the supreme being, they adored sundry spirits
or protecting deities, such as the gods of the mountains, woods,
springs, rivers, fire, thunder, etc. These divinities were adored
either by prayers or through sacrifices offered to them in the recesses
of woods, or near springs. What these prayers of the Hungarians were
we do not know; we can form, however, some idea of their character on
reading the prayers of the present Shaman worshippers, a specimen of
which is here subjoined:
“O, thou God living above, Abiash!
Who hast clad the earth with grass,
Who hast given leaves to the tree,
Who hast provided the calves with flesh,
Who didst bring forth hair on the head,
Who didst create all the creatures,
Who prepares every thing present!
Thou hast created the stars, O God!
O, Alton Pi, who hast exalted the father,
O, Ulgen Pi, who hast exalted the mother,
Thou creator of all created things,
Thou preparer of all that is prepared,
O God, thou creator of the stars,
O give us cattle, O God!
Give food, O God!
Give us a chief, O God!
Thou preparer of all things prepared,
Thou creator of all things created!
I prayed to my Father
To bestow on me his blessing,
To give me help,
To me, in my house,
And to my cattle, in the herd!
Before thee I bow down.
Give thy blessing, O Kudai,
Thou Creator of all things created,
Thou preparer of all things prepared!”
The sacrifices consisted in the offering up of cattle and particularly,
on solemn occasions, of white horses. Their priests, called _Táltos_,
occupied a pre-eminent place, not only in the political but also in the
social life of the Magyars. They were a kind of augurs and soothsayers,
whose prophecies were based either upon certain natural phenomena, or
upon the inspection of certain portions of slaughtered animals, such
as the intestines, the heart, and shoulder-blade, which latter was put
into the fire, good and bad auspices being prognosticated from the
different positions of the cracks produced.
Religious faith being always open to outside or foreign influence,
it was but natural that the Hungarians, in that long march from
the interior of Asia into Europe, should have borrowed many novel
features from the religious life of the countries through which they
passed. Thus, in the earlier faith of the Magyars, we meet with many
distinctive traits of the Parsee religion, of that of the Khazars, and
of the religions of many Ugrian races, for, like other families of the
Uralo-Altaic race, the Magyars were conspicuous for their spirit of
toleration towards other believers.
The numerous Christian prisoners they had brought with them from
various parts of Europe were not only left in the undisturbed practice
of their creeds, but were even permitted to influence to a very
considerable degree the faith of their conquerors and masters. Under
these circumstances it was by no means a hazardous undertaking, on the
part of Duke Geyza, to give permission to missionaries and priests
to come into the country and preach the gospel. A Suabian monk named
Wolfgang was the first who tried to spread Christianity in Hungary in
917. A greater success was achieved by Pilgrin, the bishop of Passau,
who, taking the matter of conversion into his hands, was able to
report to the Pope in 974 that nearly five thousand Hungarians had
been baptized, and that “under the benign influence of the miraculous
grace of God those heathens even who have remained in their erring
ways forbid no one the baptism, nor do they interfere with the priests,
allowing them to go where they please. Christians and heathens dwell
together in such harmony that here the prophecy of Isaiah seems to be
fulfilled: ‘The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion
shall eat straw like the ox.’”
Considering the difficulty of turning inveterate Asiatics to western
views of life, and, particularly to the totally different doctrines
of the Christian religion, we may easily realize that the total
conversion of the Magyars was a work attended with many struggles
and difficulties. After Pilgrin we find Bruno engaged in the pious
undertaking; but by far the most successful of all of the missionaries
was St. Adalbert, the bishop of Prague, who came to the country in 993,
and, remaining there for a considerable period of time, had the good
fortune to baptize several members of the reigning family, amongst
whom was the son of Duke Geyza, called Vayik, to whom was given the
Christian name of Stephen. This conversion being regarded as one of
the most momentous events in the history of the Hungarians, it will
be worth while explaining the accompanying illustration, representing
this act. In the baptistry, we perceive, as the principal personage,
Stephen, in his baptismal robes. Next to him is seen St. Adalbert,
robed and adorned in keeping with his episcopal dignity and the
apostolic office of conversion. To the left in the foreground, as
witnesses to the baptism, are standing the Emperor of Germany, Otto
III., who was brought there by his friendship for Geyza and his
interest in the baptism of Stephen, and Count Teodato, of San Severino,
a knight who had emigrated from Apulia, and to whom Geyza had entrusted
the education of his son. Behind the latter stands Duke Henry of
Bavaria, who, attending the emperor, is present as a guest. Farther
in the background we perceive Duke Geyza and his consort, sunk in
pious revery. We see Stephen after the act of confessing his faith and
knowledge of Christianity. Already he had turned his face toward the
west, had renounced Satan and devoted himself to the eternal war of the
children of God, and then, turning to the east, had vowed, with exalted
enthusiasm, obedience and devotion to the Law of God as revealed
through Christ. Now we see him, according to the custom of the Church
at that time, in the act of descending into the baptismal font in order
to receive from the hands of the holy bishop the sign of the Cross, the
sacrament of spiritual regeneration.
[Illustration: BAPTISM OF ST. STEPHEN.
(From a painting by P. N. Geiger).]
Pious emotion is reflected in the countenances of the attendant
Magyars, although there may be discernible here and there the
expression of a hidden spirit of antagonism. And the supposition
of such an expression can, in no way, be called a groundless one.
The worship of God on the banks of rivers, in woods and groves, the
offering of sacrifices, and sundry superstitions connected with the
soothsaying of the Shaman priests, certainly impressed more forcibly
the minds of the free and independent dwellers of the steppes than
the mass pronounced in Latin, and the rites of the Catholic Church,
introduced by the monks and priests of the West. Conversion to
Christianity had to be unconditionally followed up not only by
the relinquishment of the old national religion, but also by the
renunciation of the ancient habits and manners, to which the Hungarians
clung in spite of the generations that had passed since their coming
to the banks of the Danube and Theiss. The reluctance, shown here and
there, must be also ascribed to the overbearing attitude assumed by
the foreign missionaries towards the ruling race of the Magyars, upon
whom these Bavarians, Suabians, Czechs, Italians, etc., looked down
as contemptible barbarians, a title they by no means deserved, for it
was only the difference in culture and not the want of culture which
separated the two elements. Suffice it to say that traces of this
discontent became visible very early, and that the slumbering spark
broke out in open rebellion in 997, in the very year when Stephen
ascended the throne, made vacant through the death of his father,
Geyza. History records three different risings, which took place
with the intention of doing away with the newly introduced Christian
religion, together with all the changed modes of life borrowed from
western civilization. In the first instance the movement was headed
by Kopán, a nobleman in the county of Sümeg. His object was to drive
out the foreign Christian missionaries and priests, to dethrone
Stephen, and to re-establish the old pagan faith. A vast multitude of
discontented Hungarians gathered under his banners, but Stephen was not
at all afraid. Collecting his army and the foreign Christian knights
about him, he left his regal seat Gran (Esztergom), and marched on
straight against the rebels. The engagement took place in the vicinity
of Veszprém. It was a hard contested struggle, and only after a bitter
fight and the death of Kopán himself, did his adherents lay down their
arms. The happy issue of the battle decided the victory of Christianity
in Hungary, and all that was still needed, was to strengthen the
new faith. The effects of this victory were, nevertheless, of short
duration, for in the year 1002, another anti-Christian movement broke
out in Transylvania, whose ruler, Duke Gyula, uniting with the partly
pagan, partly Mohammedan Petchenegs, made an inroad into Hungary,
carrying devastation and bloodshed everywhere. Stephen now had to march
against this dangerous enemy, and not only vanquished the Hungarian
duke Gyula, but continued his march into the country of the Petchenegs,
defeated their prince, Kaan, and looting his camp got possession of all
the rich treasures these Petchenegs had carried away from the Greek
empire.
The third and decidedly the most dangerous rising took place in 1046,
when a certain Vatha, a zealous adherent of the former pagan religion,
and an offspring of Duke Gyula, availing himself of the disturbances
arising from the contest for the succession to the throne, incited the
people against the Christian religion and its institutions. They urged
Andrew, the pretender to the throne of the country, “to abolish the
Christian religion and its institutions; to re-establish the ancient
religion and the laws brought from Asia, and demanded that they should
be permitted to pull down the churches, and to drive out the priests
and the foreign immigrants.” Unaware of the number and strength of the
rebels the prince did not venture to refuse their request. This the
rebels took for a tacit compliance, and, emboldened by it, they fell,
with wild rage, upon the Christians. The Germans and Italians that
were found in the country, especially the bishops and priests, were
persecuted with most inhuman cruelty. The churches and other places
devoted to Christian piety were destroyed, the ancient pagan religion
was restored, and everywhere the people resumed the former mode of
life according to their ancient customs and heathen faith, offering up
sacrifices, as before, in woods and groves and near springs. During
these disorders St. Gerhard, the former tutor of St. Emeric, and at
that time bishop of Csanád, lost his life. He was on his way to Pesth,
to meet Andrew, when he fell into the hands of the enraged populace,
was killed by them on the mountain opposite Pesth, called Gellérthegy
(Mount Gerhard) to this day, and his body was thrown into the Danube.
Utterly dangerous as the symptoms of these risings were, we see,
however, how deeply even at that time Christianity had taken root in
Hungary. It very soon became apparent that the revolution was not only
of a religious but of a political and social character. King Andrew
issued rigorous laws, menacing every one who did not return to the
Christian religion and renounce the practice of heathenish customs,
with loss of life and property. The destroyed churches were to be
rebuilt, and the order of things introduced by Stephen be respected
again. These laws and the punishments inflicted upon some of the
stubborn adherents of paganism did not fail to produce their effect,
and, in a short time, the rebellion was crushed and order and quiet
gradually restored throughout the country.
And, strange to say, just as the Mohammedan Turks of our day ascribe
the decline and downfall of their power to the many innovations
introduced into their religious and social life, and discover the
main source of their ruin in the assimilation to the West, precisely
so spoke and argued the Hungarians of that day. They laid particular
stress upon the fact that the nation, whilst adhering to the religion
and customs of its ancestors, had been independent, strong, and mighty,
and had even made the whole of Europe tremble; but that now, since
it had adopted the religion and customs of the West, the nation was
weakened by internal dissensions, strangers had become her masters,
foreign armies had penetrated into the very heart of the country—nay,
Hungary had lost her independence and had become the vassal of a
foreign power. Such representations could not fail to produce their
effect. It was easy to convince the uncultivated Hungarians, who
were not yet confirmed in the Christian religion and but ill brooked
its severe discipline, that all those troubles and misfortunes which
had visited the country were the consequences of the introduction of
Christianity, and that to achieve a splendid future for the nation, in
harmony with its glorious past, this must be done upon the ruins of
Christianity and of the institutions introduced by Stephen.
This great change, however repugnant it may have seemed to the
Hungarians, was, nevertheless, unavoidable. As previously stated, the
foreign elements which flooded the country, owing to the very large
number of captives the Hungarians brought with them from every part
of Europe, had wrought that change in the manners and habits of life
in spite of all the reluctance of the former Asiatic nomads. These
captives greatly outnumbering their masters, were mostly used for
agricultural purposes, but their close contact with the ruling class
unavoidably produced a mitigation of the rude military habits of
the latter. The Hungarians eagerly listened to the Christian chants
and prayers of their subjects. They imitated them in their food and
dress, and, although nearly two centuries had to pass before the
former wanderers on the Central-Asian steppes could get accustomed to
permanent habitations, and, despite the aversion the proud warrior felt
to the plow, the ice, nevertheless, began to break. The Asiatic mode of
thinking had to be given up, and with the tenets of Christian tradition
habits of Christian life were gradually introduced.
This process of transformation was greatly quickened by the personal
intercourse and family connections of Duke Geyza and his chieftains
with the court and nobility of the neighboring countries. Besides the
involuntary immigration caused by the forays, we meet with a remarkable
influx of foreign noblemen who, on the invitation of Duke Geyza,
settled in the country, towards the end of the tenth century. The
brothers Hunt and Pázmán came from Suabia, Count Buzád from Meissen,
Count Hermann from Nuremberg; the Czech knights Radovan, Bogát, and
Lodán came with large retinues; many others immigrated from Italy and
Greece, so that the high nobility of Hungary, already at the beginning
of the conversion of the Magyars, had a large infusion of foreign
blood. It may be added that the entire clergy of that day was composed
of Czechs, Germans, and Italians. The ground was, therefore, duly
prepared, and it wanted only the iron hand of a resolute and wise ruler
to achieve the work of conversion, and to accomplish the great task of
transforming a formerly warlike and nomadic nation into a Christian and
peaceful community. This ruler was King Stephen I.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VI.
ST. STEPHEN, THE FIRST KING OF HUNGARY.
997-1038.
King Stephen led the Hungarian nation from the darkness of paganism
into the light of Christianity, and from the disorders of barbarism
into the safer path of western civilization. He induced his people to
abandon the fierce independence of nomadic life, and assigned to them
a place in the disciplined ranks of European society and of organized
states. Under him, and through his exertions, the Hungarian people
became a western nation. Never was a change of such magnitude, and
we may add such a providential change, accomplished in so short a
time, with so little bloodshed, and with such signal success as this
remarkable transformation of the Hungarian people. The contemporaries
of this great and noble man, those who assisted him in guiding the
destinies of the Hungarian nation, gave him already full credit for the
wise and patriotic course pursued by him, and the Hungarian nation of
the present day still piously and gratefully cherishes his memory. To
the Hungarians of to-day, although eight and a half centuries removed
from St. Stephen, his form continues to be a living one, and they
still fondly refer to his exalted example, his acts, his opinions, and
admonitions, as worthy to inspire and admonish the young generations in
their country.
This need be no matter for surprise, for at no period of Hungary’s
history has her political continuity been interrupted in such a way as
to make her lose sight of the noble source from which its greatness
sprang. No doubt a complete change has taken place in the political
and social order, in the course of so many centuries, but the state
structure, however modified, still rests upon the deep and sure
foundations laid by the wisdom of her first king. One day in the year,
the 20th of August—called St. Stephen’s day—is still hallowed to his
memory. On that day his embalmed right hand is carried about with great
pomp and solemnity, in a brilliant procession, accompanied by religious
ceremonies, through ancient Buda, and shown to her populace. The
kingdom of Hungary is called the realm of St. Stephen to this day, the
Hungarian kings are still crowned with the crown of St. Stephen, and
the nation acknowledges only him to be its king whose temples have been
touched by the sacred crown. The Catholic Church in Hungary although
it no more occupies its former pre-eminent position in the state,
still retains enough of power, wealth, and splendor to bear ample
testimony to the lavish liberality of St. Stephen. Thus the historian
meets everywhere with traces of his benignant activity, and whilst the
fame and saintliness of the great king have surrounded his name with
a luminous halo in the annals of his nation, that very brilliancy
has prevented from coming down to posterity such mere terrestrial and
every-day details as would assist in drawing his portrait. The grand
outlines of his form detach themselves vividly and sharply from the
dark background of his age—but there is a lack of contemporary accounts
which would help to fill up these outlines, and the legends of the
succeeding generations, which make mention of him, can but ill supply
this want, for they regard in him the saint only, and not the man. His
deeds alone remain to guide us in the task of furnishing a truthful
picture of the founder of his country, and well may we apply to him the
words of Scripture, that the tree shall be known by its fruit.
[Illustration: CORONATION OF ST. STEPHEN.]
Stephen was born in Gran (Esztergom), the first and most ancient
capital of Hungary, about 969, at a time when his father had not
yet succeeded to the exalted position of ruler over Hungary, and a
magnificent memorial chapel in the Roman style of the tenth century,
erected there, marks the event of his birth in that place. His mother
Sarolta, Geyza’s first wife, was the daughter of that Gyula, Duke of
Transylvania, who, whilst upon a mission to Constantinople, in 943,
had embraced the Christian faith and subsequently endeavored to spread
it at home. Thus a Christian mother watched prayerfully at the cradle
of young Stephen, and in early childhood, already, the tender mind of
the boy was guided by the pious Count of San Severino. Adalbert, the
Archbishop of Prague, who sought a martyr’s death and subsequently won
the martyr’s crown, introduced him to the community of professing
Christians. With his wife Gisella, a Bavarian princess, at his side,
he took his place among the Western rulers as their kinsman. While his
long reign proved him to be true to his country and his nation, yet the
paganism of the ancient Hungarians was quite foreign to his soul.
After the first half of the tenth century religious ideas began to
exercise a more powerful influence in Europe than before. The great
movement which originated in the monastery of Cluny, in France, held
out to the world the promise of a new salvation. Men of extraordinary
endowments began again to proclaim with evangelical enthusiasm the
mortification of the flesh, in order to exalt the soul, and the
suppression of earthly desires for the purpose of restoring the true
faith to its pristine glory. They insisted that the shepherd of the
faithful souls, the Church, should be freed from all earthly fetters
and interests, for, just as the soul was above the body, so was the
Church superior to the worldly communities. The Church therefore,
they taught, must be raised from her humiliating position, her former
dependence changed into a state of the most complete freedom. As a
consequence, the visible head of the Church, the Pope, could not be
allowed to remain the servant of the head of the worldly power, the
emperor, for it was the former that Providence had entrusted with the
care of the destinies and happiness of humanity. These ideas spread
triumphantly and with incredible rapidity throughout all Europe.
They were heralded by a sort of prophetic frenzy; and soul-stirring
fanaticism followed in their train. The age of asceticism, long past
and become an object almost of contempt, was rescued from oblivion
and revived. The despised body was again subjected to tortures and
vexations, and the purified soul longed for the destruction of its own
earthly existence in order to soar on high freed from mundane trammels.
It was the miraculous age of hermits, saints, and martyrs who made it
resound with their wailing and weeping, changing this home of dust
into a valley of tears, so that the soul transported to the regions
of bliss might appear in greater splendor to the dazzled eyes of the
earthly beholder. The popes, moreover, riding high on the unchained
waves, guided the Church through the tempest of the newly awakened
religious passions, with a watchful eye and steady persistence toward
one end—the exaltation of the papal power over that of the emperors. At
the end of the tenth century Pope Sylvester II. was the representative
of the spirit of the age clamoring for the aggrandizement of the papal
power, and Otto III. represented in opposition to him the imperial
power, undermined by the new ideas. Since the overthrow of the Western
Roman empire the world had not been called upon to witness a contest
of greater import than the impending struggle between these two rival
powers. The great upheaval, indeed, which was to shake Europe to its
very centre, did not take place until half a century later, but the
seeds, from which the war of ecclesiastical investiture, the stir of
the crusades, and the universality of the papal power were to spring,
were already scattered throughout the soil which had lain barren
through many centuries.
This was the age which gave birth to Stephen and in which he
was educated, but his exalted mind rejected the exaggerations,
eccentricities, and errors of his time and accepted only its noble
sentiments and ideas. His sober-mindedness was equal to his religious
enthusiasm, and as his innate energy exceeded both, he left it to
religious visionaries to indulge in ascetic dreams. He desired to be
the apostle of the promises of his faith, but not their martyr. He made
the maintenance, defence, and extension of Christianity the task of his
life, because he saw in its establishment the only sure means for the
safety and happiness of his people. He pursued no schemes looking to
adventures in foreign lands, but devoted all his thoughts, feelings,
and energies to his own nation, subordinating to her interests
everybody and every thing else. He defended these alike against
imperial attacks and papal encroachments. His eyes were fixed on the
Cross, but his strong right arm rested on the hilt of his sword, and
his apostolic zeal never made him forget for a single moment his duty
to a people which had gone through many trials, whose position amongst
the European nations was a very difficult one, whose destinies rested
in his hands, and who were yet to be called upon to play a great part
in the history of the world.
Stephen was about twenty-eight years old when he succeeded his father
in 997. He at once embarked with the enthusiasm of youth, coupled with
the deliberation and constancy of manhood, on his mission to bring to
a happy conclusion the task begun by his mother. In this work he was
sedulously assisted by Astrik and his monastic brethren, and the gaze
of the foreign Christian lords, who had immigrated with his Bavarian
wife, as well as of the great number of lay and ecclesiastical persons
who came, flocking to the country, was centred upon the young royal
leader, who surpassed them all in zeal and enthusiasm. He spared
no pains, nor was he deterred by dangers; he visited in person the
remotest parts of the realm, bringing light to places where darkness
prevailed, and imparting truth where error stalked defiantly. He sought
out the men of distinction and the mighty of the land, and the hearts
which were closed to the message of the foreign monks freely opened
to his wise and friendly exhortations. Where he could not prevail by
the charms of his apostolic persuasion he unhesitatingly threw the
weight of his royal sword into the scale. Whilst battling with the
arms of truth he did not recoil from using violence, if necessary, in
its service. Fate did not spare him the cruel necessity of having to
proceed even against his own blood.
The more rapidly and successfully the work of conversion went on,
the greater became the apprehension and exasperation of those who
looked upon the destruction of the ancient pagan faith as dangerous
and ruinous to their nation. Nor did these recoil from any hazard to
maintain their faith and to prevent the national ruin anticipated
by them. They took up arms on more than one occasion, as has been
previously mentioned, but Stephen succeeded in quelling the dangerous
rebellions. Assisted by the foreign knights, he broke the power
of paganism, and he showed no regard for any pretence of national
aspirations. Those who still harbored the ancient faith in their hearts
kept it secretly locked up there, and for the time being at least did
homage to the new faith and the power of the king. The possessions of
the rebels were devoted to ecclesiastical uses, and the king, at the
same time, bestirred himself in the organization of the triumphant
Church. He divided the converted territory into ecclesiastical
districts, providing each with a spiritual chief, and placing the
ecclesiastical chief of Gran at the head of all and of the Church
government instituted by him. He caused fortified places to be erected
throughout the newly organized Church territory for the defence of
Christianity, as well as for the maintenance of his own worldly power,
which began nearly to rival that of the other Christian kings.
But in order successfully to carry into effect these measures, Stephen
had to obtain their confirmation by at least one of the leading powers
which then shared in the mastery over Europe—namely, imperialism and
papacy. The emperors, on the one hand, claimed supreme authority over
all the pagan populations converted to Christianity, while the papal
see, on the other hand, was inclined to protect against the empire the
smaller nations, which were jealous of their independence, in order
to gain allies for the impending struggle of the Church against the
empire. Stephen was quick to choose between these two. The German
Church—except in the abortive attempt made by Bishop Pilgrin—had
contributed but little to the conversion of the Hungarian people, and
it could therefore lay no claim to exercise any authority over the
Church of Hungary. Nor had the German kings done any thing to assist
Geyza and Stephen in their attempts at conversion. Stephen had before
him the example of his brother-in-law, Boleslas of Poland, who had
but recently applied to the papal see for the bestowal of the royal
crown, in order to secure the independence of his position as a ruler
and that of the Church in his realm. The religious bent of Stephen’s
mind, combined with his acute perception of the true interests of
his country, induced him, at last, in the spring of 1000, to send a
brilliant embassy to Rome, under the lead of the faithful, experienced,
and indefatigable Astrik.
Pope Sylvester II., than whom no one exerted himself more strenuously
to increase the papal power, received the Hungarian envoys cordially,
and upon learning from Astrik their mission, he exclaimed: “I am but
apostolic, but thy master who sent thee here is, in truth, the apostle
of Christ himself!” He readily complied with Stephen’s every request,
adding even more signal favors. He confirmed the bishoprics already
established, and empowered him to establish additional ones, conferring
upon Stephen, at the same time, such rights in the administration of
the affairs of the Church of Hungary as hitherto had been allowed only
to the most illustrious princes in Christendom, the sovereigns of
France and Germany. He granted to Stephen and his successors the right
of styling themselves “apostolic kings,” and to have carried before
them, on solemn occasions, the double cross, as an emblem of their
independent ecclesiastical authority. As a further mark of his favor,
the Pope presented Stephen with the crown which had been destined for
Boleslas of Poland, in order to symbolize for all times to come the
blessing bestowed upon the Hungarian kingdom by God’s representative
upon earth. The crown of to-day, weighing altogether 136 ounces, is
not quite identical with the crown that adorned St. Stephen’s head.
It now consists of two parts. The upper and more ancient part is the
crown sent by Pope Sylvester, the lower one has been added at a later
date. The former is formed by two intersecting hoops and connected at
the four lower ends by a border. On its top is a small globe capped
by a cross, which is now in an inclined position, and beneath it is
seen a picture of the Saviour in sitting posture, surrounded by the
sun, the moon, and two trees. The entire surface of the two hoops
is adorned with the figures of the twelve apostles, each having an
appropriate Latin inscription, but four of these figures are covered
by the lower crown. The lower or newer crown is an open diadem from
which project, in front, representations of ruins, which terminate in
a crest alternating with semicircular bands. The seams of the latter
are covered with smaller-sized pearls, and larger oval pearls adorn the
crests. Nine small drooping chains, laid out with precious stones,
are attached to the lower rim. A large sapphire occupies the centre of
the front of the diadem, and above it, on a semicircular shield, is a
representation of the Saviour. To the left and right of the sapphire
are representations of the archangels, Michael and Gabriel, and of
the four saints, Damianus, Dominic, Cosmus, and George, and, finally,
of the Greek emperors, Constantine Porphyrogenitus and Michael Ducas,
and of the Hungarian king Geyza, with inscriptions. With regard to
the upper crown no doubt whatever is entertained as to its being the
one sent by Pope Sylvester, and concerning the lower crown Hungarian
historians state that it was sent, about 1073, by the Greek emperor,
Michael Ducas, to the Hungarian duke, Geyza, as a mark of gratitude for
the good services rendered to him by the latter. The exact date when
the two crowns united cannot be ascertained. This minute description of
the crown of Hungary may be well pardoned, considering the antiquity
and the high veneration in which this relic of the past is held by the
Hungarian people.
The legend of St. Stephen speaks thus of Astrik’s mission to the
Eternal City: “Father Astrik having accomplished his errand in Rome,
and obtained even more than he had asked for, returned joyfully home.
As he was nearing Gran the king came out to meet him with great pomp,
and Father Astrik showed him the presents he had brought with him from
Rome, the royal crown and the cross. Stephen offered up thanks to God,
and subsequently expressed his gratitude to the Pope for the presents
received. The great prelates, the clergy, the lords, and the people
having listened to the contents of the letter conveying the apostolic
benediction, with one heart and soul and with shouts of joy acclaimed
Stephen their king, and having been anointed with the sacred oil, he
was crowned on the day of Mary’s ascension (15th of August) at Gran.”
That highly important letter brought by Astrik from Rome, which
established the independent authority of the Hungarian kings over the
national church, has been preserved to this day. The following lines of
the papal bull may in some measure characterize the age in which they
were written, and illustrate, at the same time, the importance which
was ascribed to these missives during many centuries:
“My glorious son,” the letter proceeds to say, after having in the
introduction exalted Stephen’s apostolic zeal, “all that which thou
hast desired of the apostolic see, the crown, the royal title, the
metropolitan see at Gran, and the other bishoprics, we joyfully allow
and grant thee by the authority derived from Almighty God and Saints
Peter and Paul, together with the apostolic and our own benediction.
The country which thou hast offered, together with thy own self, to St.
Peter, and the people of Hungary, present and future, being henceforth
received under the protection of the Holy Roman Church, we return
them to thy wisdom, thy heirs, and rightful successors, to possess,
rule, and govern the same. Thy heirs and successors, too, having
been lawfully elected by the magnates of the land, shall be likewise
bound to testify to ourselves and our successors their obedience and
respect, to prove themselves subjects of the Holy Roman Church, to
steadfastly adhere to, and support the religion of Christ our Lord and
Saviour. And as thy Highness did not object to undertake the apostolic
office of proclaiming and spreading the faith of Christ, we feel moved
to confer, besides, upon thy Excellency and out of regard for thy
merits, upon thy heirs and lawful successors, this especial privilege:
we permit, desire, and request that, as thou and thy successors will be
crowned with the crown we sent thee, the wearing of the double cross
may serve thee and them as an apostolic token, even so that, according
to the teachings of God’s mercy, thou and they may direct and order,
in our and our successors’ place and stead, the present and future
churches of thy realm. * * * We also beseech Almighty God that thou
mayest rule and wear the crown, and that He shall cause the fruits of
His truth to grow and increase; that He may abundantly water with the
dew of His blessing the new plants of thy realm; that He may preserve
unimpaired thy country for thee, and thee for thy country; that He
may protect thee against thy open and secret foes, and adorn thee,
after the vexations of thy earthly rule, with the eternal crown in His
heavenly kingdom.”
The brilliant successes so rapidly achieved by Stephen during the first
years of his reign secured the triumph of Christianity and of the royal
authority in the western half of the country only. The adherents of the
ancient faith and liberty still remained in a majority in the eastern,
more-thinly peopled regions beyond the Theiss and in Transylvania.
Gyula, the duke of Transylvania, and the uncle of Stephen, was not
slow in protesting against the new kingdom and the innovations coupled
with it. The rebellion failed, as we have already seen. Gyula and his
whole family were made captives by the victors, and neither he nor
his posterity ever regained their lost power. Transylvania was more
closely united with the mother country, and from that time, during a
period extending over more than five centuries, was ruled by _vayvodes_
appointed by the kings. Soon after Stephen opposed victoriously
the Petchenegs, the allies of the defeated Gyula, who were settled
beyond the Transylvanian mountains in the country known at present
as Roumania, and having also defeated Akhtum, who, trusting in the
protection of the Greek emperor, was disposed to act the master in the
region enclosed by the Danube, Theiss, and Maros, there was no one in
the whole land who—openly, at least—dared to refuse homage to the crown
pressing the temples of Stephen and to the double cross. During the
twenty years succeeding the events just narrated, history is entirely
silent as to any great martial enterprise of Stephen. It is true that
hostilities were frequent along the northern and western borders
against the Poles and Czechs, but they were never of a character to
endanger the territorial integrity of the country. During those years
of comparative peace Stephen firmly established the Hungarian Christian
kingdom.
The Christian Church was the corner-stone of all social and political
order in the days of Stephen. The Church pointed out the principal
objects of human endeavor, marked out the ways leading to the
accomplishment of those aims, drew the bounds of the liberty of action,
and prescribed to mankind its duties. It educated, instructed, and
disciplined the people in the name and in the place of the state, and
in doing this the Church acted for the benefit of the state. Hence it
was that Stephen, in organizing the Hungarian Christian Church and
placing it on a firmer basis, consulted quite as much the interests
of his royal power as the promptings of his apostolic zeal. Where the
Christian faith gained ground, there the respect for royalty also took
root, and the first care of royalty, when its authority had become
powerful, was to preserve the authority of the Church.
Immediately on his accession to the throne, Stephen addressed himself
to the great and arduous task, and in all places where the promises of
the holy faith, scattered by his proselyting zeal, met with a grateful
soil, he established the earliest religious communities. Later, as
the number of parishes rapidly increased, he appointed chief prelates
to superintend and maintain the flocks and to keep them together. The
ecclesiastical dignities and offices were conferred, in the beginning,
without exception, upon members of the religious orders, they being at
that time the most faithful warriors of Christianity against paganism,
and the most devoted servants of the triumphant church. Stephen took
good care of them, and rewarded them according to their merits. He
founded four abbeys for these pious monks, who all of them belonged
to the religious order of St. Benedict. The abbey of Pannonhalom was
the wealthiest and most distinguished among these; and to this day, it
maintains the chief rank among the greatly increased number of kindred
societies. The first schools were connected with the cathedrals and
monasteries, and although their mission consisted mainly in propagating
the new church and faith, they yet cultivated the scanty learning of
the age.
Stephen endowed the bishoprics and monasteries with a generosity
truly royal. He granted them large possessions in land, together with
numerous bondsmen inhabiting the estates. The Hungarian Catholic
Church has preserved the larger part of these grants to this day.
His munificence was displayed in the cathedral at Stuhlweissenburg
(Székesfejérvár), built in honor of the Virgin Mary, of whose marvels
of enchantment the old chronicles speak with reverential awe. The
chronicler calls it “the magnificent church famous for its wondrous
workmanship, the walls of which are adorned with beautiful carvings,
and whose floor is inlaid with marble slabs,” and then he proceeds
in this strain: “Those can bear witness to the truth of my words who
have beheld there with their own eyes the numerous chasubles, sacred
utensils, and other ornaments, the many exquisite tablets wrought of
pure gold and inlaid with the most precious jewels about the altars,
the chalice of admirable workmanship standing on Christ’s table, and
the various vessels of crystal, onyx, gold, and silver with which the
sacristy was crowded.”
Stephen’s munificence was not confined to his own realm, and numerous
memorials of his beneficence and generosity are still preserved in
foreign lands. As soon as Christianity had gained a firm foothold
in the land, and the Hungarian people felt no more as strangers in
the family of Christian nations, the natives, either singly or in
larger numbers, began to journey to the revered cities of Rome,
Constantinople, and Jerusalem. Stephen took care that these pilgrims
should feel at home in the strange places they visited. Thus, amongst
other things, he had a church and dwelling-house built in Rome for the
accommodation of twelve canons, providing it also with a _hospitium_
(inn). In Constantinople and Jerusalem also he caused a convent and
church to be erected, within whose hospitable walls the Hungarian
pilgrim might find rest for his weary body, after the fatigues of the
long journey, and spiritual comfort for his thirsting soul. He was ever
mindful of the interests of Christianity both at home and abroad. He
not only founded the Hungarian Christian Church, but knew how to make
it universally respected, and, in his own time already, the popes were
in the habit of referring to Hungary as the “archiregnum”—that is, a
country superior to the others.
In establishing the Hungarian kingdom Stephen necessarily shaped its
institutions after the pattern of the Western States, but fortunately
for the nation he possessed a rare discrimination which made him
imitate his neighbors in those things only which were beneficial or
unavoidable, whilst he rejected their errors and refused to introduce
them into his own land. At that period feudalism, although it had
sadly degenerated, prevailed, England alone excepted, throughout the
whole West. It was a system which did not permit the strengthening of
the central power of the state, and the countries subjected to it were
divided up into parts but loosely connected, each of which acknowledged
an almost independent master, who, although he held his county or duchy
from his king, and owned and governed it by virtue of that tenure,
was yet powerful enough to defy with impunity the sovereign himself.
Without adverting to the pitiful dismemberment of Italy, we need only
mention that France was divided into about fifty, and Germany into five
small principalities of this character. The kings themselves might make
use of their kingly title, they might bask in the splendor of their
own royalty, but of the plenitude of their royal power they could but
rarely and then only temporarily boast.
Stephen’s chief aim was to enhance the royal power by rendering it
as independent as he possibly could of restrictions on the part of
the nation, and to introduce such institutions as would prove most
efficacious in the defence of the integrity and unity of nation and
country. He left the nobility—the descendants of those who had taken
possession of the soil at the conquest of Hungary—in the undisturbed
enjoyment of their ancient privileges; he did not restrict their
rights, but in turn did not allow himself to be hampered by them. He
only introduced an innovation with reference to the tenure of their
property, which he changed from tribal to individual possession,
using his royal authority to protect each man in the possession of
the estates thus allotted to him. The nobles governed themselves,
administered justice amongst themselves, through men of their own
selection, and the king interfered only if he was especially requested
to judge between them. The nobles had always free access to the king’s
person, not only during Stephen’s reign, but for many centuries
afterwards. The nobility was exempted from the payment of any kind of
taxes into the royal treasury, and they joined the king’s army only if
the country was menaced by a foreign foe, or if they chose to offer
their services of their own free will.
Inasmuch as the great power of the nobility had its foundations on
freehold possessions in land, Stephen was careful to support the
dignity of the royal power by the control of large domains. The royal
family were already the owners of private estates of large extent, and
to these the king now added those vast tracts of land which, scattered
throughout the whole realm, and more particularly extending along
the frontiers, were without masters, and could not well pass into
private hands, as the scant Hungarian population was inadequate for
their occupation. These domains, which, for the most part, were thinly
inhabited by the indigenous conquered populations, speaking their own
languages, and the colonization of which by foreigners became a special
object with the kings, were now declared state property, and as such
taken possession of and administered by Stephen. He divided these
possessions into small domains, called in Latin _comitatus_, county,
and in Hungarian _megye_, eyre or circuit, and placed at the head of
the administration of each county a royal official styled _comes_,
count. These districts subsequently gave rise to the county system,
which was destined to play such an important part in the history of the
country, but originally they were designed to answer a twofold purpose,
one financial and one military. One portion of the people living on
these royal lands had to hand over to the royal treasury a certain
part of their produce, whilst another portion was bound to military
service for life. In this way the royal counties furnished a sort of
standing army, always at the disposal of the king, and supplied, at the
same time, the revenues necessary to support that army. Stephen found
also other means to replenish his treasury and to add to his military
strength. The revenues derived from the mineral and salt mines, and
from the coining of money, flowed into the royal coffers; he levied,
besides, a thirtieth on all merchandise, market-tolls at fairs, and
collected tolls on the roads, and at bridges and ferries. The towns
and the privileged territories had to pay taxes, and, on a given day,
to send presents to the king. Stephen added, besides, to his military
strength by granting to individuals—mostly to native or foreign
noblemen of reduced circumstances—extensive estates in fee, subject to
the obligation, in case of need, of joining the royal army with a fixed
number of armed men. The Petchenegs, Szeklers, and Ruthenes settled as
border guards along the frontiers were also obliged to render military
service, and even the royal cities sent their contingents of troops
equipped by them. This brief enumeration of the means employed by
Stephen to strengthen his throne, will make it evident that he provided
abundant resources for maintaining the royal power, such as none of his
neighbors, or even the rulers of the countries further west, had, then,
at their disposal.
The royal court was the centre and faithful mirror of that kingly
power, and, in its ordering and conduct, Stephen was careful to imitate
foreign courts, not only in their main features, but at times even in
their most minute details. The court of his imperial brother-in-law,
Henry II. of Germany, especially, served him as a model. Thus it
was held that the person of the king was sacred, and that to offend
against him who was the embodiment of the majesty of the state, was
looked upon as a crime to be punished with loss of life and fortune.
The king stood above all the living, and above the law itself. Stephen
surrounded himself with the distinguished men, lay and ecclesiastical,
of the realm, and, aided by their counsel, administered the affairs
of the country, but his word and will was a law to everybody. Amongst
the officers of his court were a lord-palatine, a court-judge, a lord
of the treasury, and many others, who, in part, assisted him in the
government of the state and, in part, ministered to the comforts of the
court. At a much later period only, after the lapse of centuries, did
the offices of palatine, judge, and treasurer, become dignities of the
realm.
The government of the country in time of peace involved no great care
or trouble, for only the royal domains or counties and the royal
cities possessing privileges fell within the sphere of the direct power
of the king and court. The Church and nobility governed themselves and
applied to the king in cases of appeal only, the royal towns conducted
their affairs through the agency of judges and chief magistrates
elected by themselves, whilst the bulk of the people, composed of the
various classes of bondmen and servants, were completely subjected to
the authority and jurisdiction of the lords of the land. The bondman
might move about freely, but he could never emancipate himself from the
tutelage of the landlords. The Hungarian nation was composed of the
same social strata which were to be met with everywhere in the West,
and the growth of these pursued the same direction, differing, however,
in one particular—the relation of the large landed proprietors, the
nobility, to their king. To these exceptional relations must be
attributed the fact that the political changes in the country did
not run in parallel grooves with those of the other western states.
Stephen granted no constitution, all complete, to his people; its
growth was the work of centuries, but the country was indebted to him
for having organized the state in such a manner that, whilst there was
nothing in the way of a free and healthy development of its political
institutions, its inherent strength was such that it could successfully
resist the many and severe shocks to which in the course of nearly a
thousand years it was subjected.
The country prospered during the long reign of King Stephen, thanks to
his untiring labors and to the rare moderation with which he tempered
his passionate zeal. The nation became gradually familiar with the
changes wrought, and began to accept the new order of things, although
it could not quite forget the old ways. Old memories revived again and
again, and those especially who bowed down before the crown and cross
from compulsion and not from conviction, were filled with anxiety as
to the uncertain future. Stephen thoroughly understood the feelings
and prejudices of his people, and he carefully avoided every act,
and steered clear of every complication which might tend to rouse
their passions. He well knew that time alone could give permanence
and stability to the institutions created by him, and that years of
peace and continued exertions were necessary to consolidate his work.
Two great objects, therefore, occupied his mind continually, even in
his old age; in the first place, to defend the realm against external
dangers, and in the second place, to raise a successor to himself to
whom he might safely entrust the continuation of the work commenced by
him.
But fate denied him the accomplishment of either of his objects. As
long as Henry II., his brother-in-law, reigned there was peace between
Hungary and the German empire, but the death of the latter in 1024
severed the bond of amity between the two countries. The feelings
entertained by Conrad II. toward the kingdom of Hungary were very
different from those manifested by his predecessor, and this change of
sentiment was soon shown by Conrad’s laying claim, by virtue of his
imperial prerogative, to the sovereignty over Stephen’s realm. Conrad,
with his ally, the Duke of Bohemia, and the united forces of his vast
empire, began war in 1030, and overran with his armies the country on
both banks of the Danube, as far as the Gran and the Raab. Stephen was
undismayed, his courage rather rose with the perils environing him. He
bade the people throughout the land to fast and pray, for not alone his
kingdom was at stake, but the independence of the Hungarian Church was
menaced by the imperial forces. Those who looked with indifference at
the cause of the Hungarian crown and the cross, had their enthusiasm
excited by the proud satisfaction of fighting in defence of the
national dignity and liberty. Amongst those western nations who had
been for so long a time harassed by the military expeditions of the
Hungarians, the German people, feeling its strength, was the first to
turn its arms against the former assailants. But Conrad’s attack proved
unsuccessful against the united strength of the king and the nation,
between whom the peril from without had restored full harmony, and he
was compelled to leave the country in the autumn of the very year in
which he entered upon the war, dejectedly returning to Germany after
a campaign of utter failure instead of the expected triumphs. Peace
was concluded in the following year, and the emperor acknowledged the
independence of the young but powerful kingdom. Conrad’s son, who
subsequently succeeded to the imperial throne as Henry III., visited
Stephen at his court, in order to draw closer the ties of amity
between the two countries. The danger had passed for the time being,
but the apprehensions of Stephen were far from being allayed as he
pondered on the future. The peace just concluded did not satisfy him;
there were no guaranties for its preservation, nor had he any faith in
its being a permanent peace, for he well knew that the German kings,
as long as they wore the imperial crown, would not fail to repeat
their attacks on the independence of the young kingdom. Reflections of
this sombre nature often filled his soul with despondency, and then
came occasions when he entertained fears that the nation might not be
strong enough to withstand the dangers threatening her, or that if she
triumphed she would, in the intoxication of her victory, turn with
exasperation against those innovations which had brought the foreign
foes upon her.
All his hopes centred in Duke Emeric, his only son, who, under the
care of the pious Bishop Gerhard, grew up to be a fine youth, full
of promise, in whom his fond father discovered all those qualities
which he wished him to possess for the good of his nation. The young
prince was, indeed, very zealous in his faith; his piety amounted
almost to frenzy, and he turned away from the world, despising its
joys and harassing struggles, and seeking the salvation of his soul
in self-denial and the mortification of his flesh. He was, in truth,
the holy child of a holy parent, but not born to rule as the fit son
of a great king. He preferred the cloister to the royal throne, and,
far from inheriting the apostolic virtues of his august father, he
was rather inclined to indulge in the errors of the age he lived in.
But the aged king, dazzled by the lustre of his son’s holiness, was
blind to his shortcomings. He had faith in him, for in him he saw
his only hope. In order fitly to prepare him for his future royal
mission, he set down for him in writing the experiences of his long
and beneficent rule, and the wisdom and goodness treasured up in his
heart and mind. These admonitions addressed to his son have been spared
by all-devouring time, and to this day they are apt to delight and
instruct us as one of the most precious relics of that age. The reader
will surely be pleased with a few specimens of these exhortations:
“I cannot refrain, my beloved son,” Stephen wrote, “from giving thee
advice, instruction, and commands whereby to guide thyself and thy
subjects. * * * Strive to obey sedulously the injunctions of thy
father, for if thou despisest these thou lovest neither God nor man. Be
therefore dutiful, my son; thou hast been brought up amidst delights
and treasures, and knowest nothing of the arduous labors of war and the
perils of hostile invasions by foreign nations, in the midst of which
nearly my whole life has been passed. The time has arrived to leave
behind thee those pillows of luxuriousness which are apt to render thee
weak and frivolous, to make thee waste thy virtues, and to nourish in
thee thy sins. Harden thy soul in order that thy mind may attentively
listen to my counsels.”
After enlarging in ten paragraphs upon the topic of his counsels, he
proceeds as follows: “I command, counsel, and advise thee, above all,
to preserve carefully the apostolic and Catholic faith if thou wishest
thy kingly crown to be held in respect, and to set such an example to
thy subjects that the clergy may justly call thee a Christian man, * *
* for he who does not adorn his faith with good deeds—the one being a
dead thing without the others—cannot rule in honor.”
Stephen then lays down rules of conduct towards the magnates of the
realm, the lay lords, the high dignitaries, and the warriors, as
follows: “They are, my dear son, thy fathers and thy brothers, neither
call them nor make them thy servents. Let them combat for thee,
but not serve thee. Rule over them peaceably, humbly, and gently,
without anger, pride, and envy, bearing in mind that all men are
equal, that nothing exalts more than humility, nor is there any thing
more degrading than pride and envy. If thou wilt be peaceable, every
one will love thee and call thee a brave king, but if thou wilt be
irritable, overbearing, and envious, and look down upon the lords, the
might of the warriors will weaken thy kingly state, and thou wilt lose
thy realm. Govern them with thy virtues, so that, inspired by love for
thee, they may adhere to thy royal dignity.”
He then recommends, above all, patience and careful inquiry in the
administration of justice in these words: “Whenever a capital cause or
other cause of great importance be brought before thee for judgment, be
not impatient, nor indulge in oaths beforehand that the accused shall
be brought to punishment. Do not hasten to pronounce judgment thyself,
lest thy royal dignity be impaired thereby, but leave the cause rather
in the hands of the regular judges. Fear the functions of a judge, and
even the name of a judge, and rather rejoice in being and having the
name of a righteous king. Patient kings rule, impatient ones oppress.
If, however, there be a cause which it is fit for thee to decide, judge
mercifully and patiently to the enhancement of the praise and glory of
thy crown.”
Speaking of the foreigners settled in the country, he says: “The Roman
empire owed its growth, and its rulers their glory and power, chiefly
to the numerous wise and noble men who gathered within its boundaries
from every quarter of the world. * * * Foreigners coming from different
countries and places to settle here bring with them a variety of
languages, customs, instructive matters, and arms, which all contribute
to adorn and glorify the royal court, holding in check, at the same
time, foreign powers. A country speaking but one language, and where
uniform customs prevail, is weak and frail. Therefore I enjoin on thee,
my son, to treat and behave towards them decorously, so that they shall
more cheerfully abide with thee than elsewhere. For if thou shouldst
spoil what I have built up, and scatter what I have gathered, thy realm
would surely suffer great detriment from it.”
The preference of Stephen for the immigrants from abroad did not
degenerate into contempt for ancient customs, for he thus concludes:
“It is both glorious and royal to respect the laws of the forefathers
and to imitate ancestors worthy of reverence. He who holds in
contempt the decisions of his predecessors will not keep the laws of
God. Conform, therefore, my dear son, to my institutions, and follow
without hesitation my customs, which befit the royal dignity. It would
be difficult for thee to govern a realm of this character without
following the precedents laid down by those who governed before thee.
Adhere, therefore, to my customs, so that thou shalt be deemed the
first amongst thine, and merit the praise of the stranger. * * * The
evil-minded ruler who stains himself with cruelty vainly calls himself
king; he but deserves the name of a tyrant. I therefore beseech and
enjoin upon thee, my beloved son, thou delight of my heart and hope
of the coming generation, be, above all, gracious, not only to thy
kinsmen, to princes, and to dukes, but also to thy neighbors and
subjects; be merciful and forbearing not only to the powerful but to
the weak; and, finally, be strong, lest good fortune elate thee, and
bad fortune depress thee. Be humble, moderate, and gentle, be honorable
and modest, for these virtues are the chief ornaments of the kingly
crown.”
But the young duke was not fated to realize the hopes of his fond
father. In the very year (1031), and on the very day, say the
chronicles, on which Stephen intended to have his son annointed before
the nation as his successor, the mysterious edict of divine Providence
suddenly took him away. In place of the crown of terrestrial power, his
unstained life, nipped in the bud, was to be rewarded by the glory of
everlasting salvation.
This sad blow prostrated the aged king, who had already been ailing,
throwing him on his bed, and from that moment up to the day of his
death he was unable to recover either his bodily or mental strength.
Bereft of all hope and left to himself with his great sorrow and
harassing doubts, he looked about him irresolutely for one on whose
shoulders the cares of royalty should rest after his departure. The
descendants of his uncle Michael were still living, and his choice fell
upon them, they being rightfully entitled to succeed to the throne.
But he was foiled in his intention by the opposition of the court,
where the foreigners rallying round Queen Gisella had obtained the
mastery, and where they now resorted to every evil scheme to compel the
decrepit king to designate as his successor Duke Peter, who resided at
the court, and was the son of one of the king’s sisters, and Ottone
Urseolo, the Doge of Venice. He finally yielded, and by this act the
vessel of State which he had piloted for nearly half a century with a
strong arm and great circumspection, was drawn into a most dangerous
current. Stephen was the founder of the kingdom of Hungary; to others
was left the inheritance of defending and strengthening it. He died
in 1038 on Mary’s Ascension Day, the anniversary of the same day on
which, thirty-eight years before, he had placed the crown on his head.
On the day of his death Stephen gathered about him his courtiers and
the magnates of the land, and commended the realm to their care, but,
as if distrustful of them, he, in his last prayer, placed both the
church and the kingdom founded by him under the patronage of the Holy
Virgin Mary. Five centuries later Stephen was canonized and placed
upon the calendar of saints by the Church of Rome, and the event of
the exaltation of their first king and apostle was celebrated as a
great national holiday by the people. Time has preserved St. Stephen’s
right hand and the crown which his piety earned for him, but the
brightest and noblest monument he erected to himself is the creation
of a commonwealth whose free institutions, unimpaired strength and
independence have survived the storms of nearly nine centuries.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VII.
THE KINGS OF THE HOUSE OF ÁRPÁD.
The crown of St. Stephen remained in the dynastic family of Árpád
for three centuries. The kings of this dynasty erected, upon the
foundations laid by the first great king of that house, the proud and
enduring structure of the Hungarian Church and State. The liberty of
the nation and the independence of the country were maintained by
these rulers against the ever-recurring attacks of both the Eastern
and Western empires, and the paternal meddling of the popes, as
well as against the barbarians invading Europe from the East, whose
devastations menaced the complete destruction of every thing that lay
in their path.
But while they repulsed with an ever-ready and strong arm all hostile
attacks—from whatever quarter they might come—they willingly extended
the right hand of friendship and hospitality to those who came to
settle in the country with peaceful intentions, and brought with them
the valued seeds of Western culture. The Hungarians themselves could be
but with difficulty weaned from their ancient customs, and they still
continued to be the martial element of the country, inured to war and
laying down their lives on fields of battle; but the populations which
had emigrated from the West, protected by royal immunities, were the
fathers of a busy and prosperous city-life, and laid the foundations
of civilization in Hungary. A few monumental memorials, spared by the
hand of time, proclaim to this day the artistic taste and wealth of
those remote centuries, and the scant words to be found in ancient and
decayed parchments speak loudly, and with no uncertain sound, of the
cities of that time as busy marts of industrial activity and thriving
commerce. From the list of the annual revenues of one of the Árpáds,
Béla III., and those of the country in the twelfth century, which was
submitted by him when asking for the hand of the daughter of the French
king, the civilized West learned with amazement of the enormous wealth
of the king ruling near the eastern confines of the Western world. The
king’s wealth was but a reflex of the prosperity of the people. During
the era of the Árpáds Hungary surpassed many a Western country in power
and wealth, and in the work of civilization either kept pace with them
or faithfully followed in their footsteps. These three hundred years
produced great kings, who, distinguished by their abilities, character,
and achievements, made the country strong and flourishing; but this
era produced also weak and frivolous rulers, whose faults will forever
darken their memory. Posterity, however, cherishes the memory of all
with equal piety, and is accustomed to look at the entire period in
the light of the lustre of the great kings only. No wonder, therefore,
if the ancient chroniclers, in describing the events of that era, are
led by their piety to weave into the text gorgeous tales and legends
for the purpose of enhancing the glory of the great kings, and of
palliating the shortcomings of those kings who were weak and frail.
The history of those three centuries may be divided into three periods.
The first, comprising the first two centuries, may be called the
heroic period of the young kingdom, in the course of which both the
foreign and domestic foes were triumphantly resisted, the attacks of
the neighboring nations repulsed, and the risings of paganism quelled.
The second comprises the early part of the thirteenth century. During
this period the royal power entered upon a state of decay, and was no
longer able either to secure respect for the law or the execution of
its behests. At this time too the nobility extorted from royalty a
charter called the Golden Bull, confirming their immunities. During the
third period an oligarchy, recruited from the ranks of the nobility,
rose to power, and became the scourge of the nation, defying the royal
authority and trampling upon all law. The licentiousness of this class
ruined the country, which was then very near becoming a prey of the
Mongols, who made an unexpected invasion. The realm, however, was saved
from utter destruction by the devotion of one of her great kings and a
happy conjuncture of circumstances.
The misgivings which filled Stephen’s soul when he closed his eyes in
eternal sleep soon proved to have been well founded. Four years had
hardly elapsed after his death when the armies of the German emperor
were already marching on Hungary, and in another four years paganism
arose in a formidable rebellion, with the avowed purpose of destroying
the new church and kingdom.
Peter (1038-1046), Stephen’s successor, who was of foreign descent and
of a proud and frivolous nature, despised the rude and uncivilized
Hungarians. He surrounded himself with foreigners, German and Italian
immigrants, who divided amongst themselves the chief dignities of the
State, preyed upon the prosperity of the country, and ruined the morals
of the people. The nation did not tolerate his misrule very long. The
fierce hatred and exasperation with which they looked at every thing
foreign found its vent against Peter, whom they drove from the country
and then elected in his place one of their own nation, Samuel Aba
(1041-1044), the late king’s brother-in-law. Peter did not renounce
his lost power, but asked the help of the German emperor, which he
readily obtained. The Emperor Henry III. opened with his German troops
the way to the forfeited throne, and Samuel Aba, who marched against
him, having fallen on the battle-field, Peter for the second time had
the crown of St. Stephen placed on his brow, but this time he took the
oath of fealty to the German emperor. Thus did Hungary for the moment
become a vassal state of the German empire. But the vassalage was
short, for hardly had the emperor withdrawn from the country when the
passionate wrath of the nation rose higher than ever against Peter.
This time, however, the wrath was not alone against his person, but
menaced destruction to every thing opposed to the ancient order of
things, and produced a bitter contest against both Christianity and the
royal dignity. Peter would have fain escaped now from his persecutors,
but he was captured, thrown into prison, and deprived of his sight, and
then, from the depth of his misery, he vainly bewailed the giddiness
which had conjured up the storm of passions that had deprived him of
his throne, his eyesight, and liberty.
[Illustration: THE PEOPLE, SEDUCED BY VATHA, CLAIM THE RE-ESTABLISHMENT
OF PAGANISM.]
The leader of the pagan rebellion was Vatha. At his command firebrands
were thrown into the churches and monasteries, the crosses were
demolished, and every thing proclaiming the new faith was reduced
to ruins; and by his advice ambassadors were sent to the dukes of
the house of Árpád, who, after Stephen’s death, had sought refuge
in foreign countries, to summon them to return to the country and
restore there the old order. King Andrew I. (1046-1061), to whom the
supreme power had been offered, and who, during his exile in Russia,
had married the daughter of the Prince of Kiev, immediately obeyed the
summons, not, however to submit to the behests of paganism, but to rule
in accordance with the principles and in the spirit of his illustrious
kinsman, King Stephen. For a while, indeed, he was compelled to bear
with the outbreaks, massacres, and devastations of paganism, but as
soon as he felt secure in his new power, and especially after having
taken up his residence in Stuhlweissenburg, then the capital of
the country, where he was able to collect around him the Christian
inhabitants of the West, who lived there in large numbers, he at once
turned his arms against the pagan rebels. He dispersed their armies,
captured their leaders, and crushed the rebellion with merciless
severity.
The double cross shone out again triumphantly, but the crown was still
menaced by danger. After the defeat of paganism the Emperor Henry III.
sent envoys to Andrew, asking satisfaction for the cruelties inflicted
upon Peter and calling upon the king to renew the oath of fealty to
the emperor of Germany. Andrew felt that unless he maintained the
independence of the country, and the dignity of the crown, he incurred
the risk of losing the throne itself. He therefore rejected Henry’s
claims and prepared for the defence of the country. At the same time
he summoned home his brother Béla (Adalbert) who, during his exile
in Poland, had won high distinction as a soldier, and had obtained,
as a reward for his military services, the hand of a daughter of
Miecislas. Andrew himself was in ill-health, and he did not care to
face the brewing storm single-handed. He wanted to have at his side the
powerful arm of his brave and mighty brother, whose very appearance
was sufficient to inspire the distressed nation with confidence and
hope. He gave Béla one third of the realm, and, being childless,
promised him the crown after his decease. Neither Andrew nor the nation
were disappointed in Duke Béla, who was believed by the people to be
irresistible. It was in vain that Henry III. collected the entire
armed force of the empire, and three times in succession (1049-1052)
threw this force upon Hungary. In each campaign Duke Béla succeeded in
dealing deadly blows upon the invaders. His triumph was so complete
that the emperor was compelled to solemnly proclaim peace, again
acknowledging the independence of the kingdom.
The nation was not permitted long to enjoy the peace following her
almost miraculous escape. Domestic dissensions took the place of the
dangers threatening from abroad, and this time the feuds did not
originate with the people, but with the royal family itself. All the
glory of the important results of the German wars, of the driving the
enemy from the country, and of her happy escape from the besetting
dangers, centred in the person of Duke Béla. The nation looked with
love and admiration upon the knightly form of their favorite, and his
popularity was so great that it quite overshadowed that of Andrew,
notwithstanding all his kingly power. Andrew’s feelings were deeply
hurt by the popularity of his brother, nor could he help being
terrified by it. But it was not his brother’s popularity alone which
troubled him. During the war a son had been born to Andrew, who was
christened Solomon. Andrew now repented of his promise to Béla. He
wished his infant son to succeed to the throne, and in order to insure
it to him, he caused Solomon to be crowned in spite of his tender
age. Not satisfied with this, but fearing that Béla, aggrieved by
these proceedings, might rise against Solomon at some future time,
he betrothed his little son to the daughter of the recently humbled
emperor, in order to secure for Solomon the powerful aid of the German
empire against Béla’s attacks. Every movement of Andrew was dictated
by fear, and he saw cause for trembling in every thing. What troubled
him most was that Béla had never breathed a word about his griefs or
wrongs. Andrew would often ask himself whether Béla was candid in his
apparent indifference, or whether, under the cover of this calm repose,
he was not concocting dangerous schemes against him and young Solomon.
He determined to put Béla’s candor to the proof. He had been ailing,
and made his feeble condition a pretext for inviting his brother to
the court. He received Béla with kindly words, confided to him his
misgivings, appealed to his generosity, and repeatedly assured him that
he did not intend to defraud him of his rights by the acts done in
favor of his son Solomon. Andrew concluded by saying that he left it
to Béla to decide whether he would rather succeed to the throne after
his own death, or be satisfied to remain at the side of young Solomon
as the military chief of the nation and the protector of the realm. The
old chronicles relate that Andrew, having finished his sweet speech,
caused to be placed before Béla the royal crown and a sword, calling
upon him to choose between the two. “I take the sword,” exclaimed Béla,
unable to conceal his indignation, “for if I coveted the crown, I could
always obtain it with the sword.”
The feud between the two brothers became henceforth irreconcilable. The
nation sided with Béla. The emperor spoken of before was dead, and a
boy occupied the German throne. Andrew had sent his queen and young son
some time before to the German court, and now he marched against Béla,
who was prepared to meet him. The two brothers confronted each other
near the Theiss, and Andrew lost both the battle and his life, whilst
Béla was on the field of battle proclaimed king of the realm.
Béla and his family occupy a conspicuous place in the history of the
first century of the Hungarian kingdom. He himself, two of his sons,
and one of his grandsons were destined to successfully defend the
country, to pacify the nation, and, pursuing the work of Stephen,
to complete the creations of that great king. They were all endowed
with eminent qualities befitting the great task allotted to them.
The heroism, devotion, and wisdom of the father descended to the
children, in whose character the inherited virtues shone out with
even a brighter and purer light. They were zealous guardians of their
kingdom and devout Christians, and they were wedded, heart and soul, to
their nation, which beheld in its kings with feelings of delight the
embodiment of its own best qualities. The imagination of the people
soars towards them after the lapse of so many centuries, and loves to
make their lofty forms the heroes of fabulous legends. Hence it is that
the events recorded of them in the pages of the chronicles are nearly
choked up by the ever-gorgeous poetical creations of the imagination of
the people.
The reign of Béla I. was short (1061-1063), but even during this brief
period he succeeded in rendering important services to his country.
While he was king paganism once more reared its crest under the lead
of James, son of the Vatha who had been put to death during Andrew’s
reign. James stirred up the multitude against Christianity and royalty,
but Béla nipped the rising in the bud. This last attempt of paganism
having failed, its power was completely broken, and it finally lost
entirely its hold upon the imagination and passions of the people. Some
there were yet who continued to resort secretly to the sacred places in
the groves, but their persecutors traced them even to these hallowed
spots, until, at last, the sacred fire burning on the secretly elevated
and visited altars was completely extinguished by the laws enacted
under Kings Ladislaus and Coloman. The imperial court of Germany made
strenuous efforts to place Solomon, whom it had received under its
protection, upon the throne of St. Stephen. Armies were collected and
marched against Hungary in the hope of being able at last to assert
the imperial supremacy over the kingdom which had been hitherto so
unsuccessfully proclaimed. The nation shrank from young Solomon, who
was badly brought up and frivolous, and in whom they saw only the
tool of the German power. The voice of the people designated amongst
Béla’s chivalrous sons either the righteous Geyza or the brave and pure
Ladislaus, as the princes best fitted for the crown.
These generous princes, however, desiring to save their country from
the calamities of an attack by the Germans, abdicated their power
in favor of young Solomon, and gave him a friendly reception on
his ascending the throne, stipulating only this, that their cousin
should leave them undisturbed in the possession of their paternal
inheritance, which comprised about one third of the realm. Solomon
(1063-1074) promised every thing and kept nothing. He was distrustful
of his cousins, perceiving that the nation idolized them, and bowed
down before him only from compulsion. It was in vain that his royal
kinsmen supported him with an unselfishness almost touching, and strove
hard to lend him the lustre of their own popularity in order to obtain
favor for him in the eyes of the nation. Solomon persisted in seeing
in them his rivals, from whose grasp his crown was not safe, and not
his brothers, the upholders and guardians of his royal power. The
foreign advisers poisoned the mind of the wavering and fickle king
against his young kinsmen, not because they doubted the unselfishness
of their devotion, but because his civil counsellors well knew that
the two brothers were sworn enemies of German expansion and supremacy.
The chronicles of the country abound in praise of the heroic deeds
performed by Solomon in conjunction with his cousins while he lived in
harmony with them, and in accounts of the intrigues which disturbed
that harmony, and finally led to their utter estrangement from each
other. The foreign counsellors of Solomon succeeded in working upon
his fears and jealousy to such an extent that they finally prevailed
upon the king to hire assassins to do away with Duke Geyza. The trap
was laid but the victim for whom it was destined succeeded in making
his escape. The feud of the fathers revived in their sons, and King
Solomon and the dukes Geyza and Ladislaus confronted each other in the
same hostile spirit in which their fathers, Andrew and Béla, had once
stood face to face. The question which the sword was to decide was not
merely whose should be the crown, but as to whether the German power
should become the master of the Hungarian kingdom, or not. Fate decided
against Solomon. He lost the battle of Mogyoród, and with it his
throne, and with his defeat vanished all hopes of establishing German
supremacy over Hungary.
The vacant throne was filled first by Geyza (1074-1077), and, after his
short reign, by his brother Ladislaus. Solomon escaped, and turned now
to his imperial brother-in-law, Henry IV., now again to the adversary
of the latter, Pope Gregory VII., for help, moving heaven and earth
to regain his lost throne. It was all in vain, the mischief was done
and could be remedied no more. The chroniclers delight in adorning the
story of the erratic life and repentance of the unfortunate youth. They
relate of him that, perceiving the utter failure of all his attempts,
he was filled with loathing against himself and the blind passions
which had made him the enemy and scourge of his country, retired from
the world, and became a hermit in order to atone for the faults of his
brief youth by doing penance during the remaining years of his life. A
cave on the shores of the Adriatic, near Pola, is pointed out to this
day, in which Solomon is supposed to have led the life of a hermit. The
chronicle adds that he lived to a high old age, became the benefactor
of the inhabitants of the vicinity, prayed for his nation, and that the
last wish of his departing soul was the happiness of his country.
Ladislaus (1077-1095), who succeeded his older brother Geyza, was
one of the noblest, most noteworthy of the kings of the royal line
of the Árpáds. He was great not only in the light of the important
achievements of his reign, but by his eminent personal qualities. His
character was a happy combination of strength without violence, of
wisdom without vacillation, of piety without fanaticism, and of lofty
majesty without pride. He was the hero, the model, and the idol of his
nation, which had never clung to any of its kings with more boundless
affection, greater devotion, and more respect. He identified himself
with the nation, drew strength from her affection for him, and rendered
her powerful in return. He gave the kingdom, founded by his illustrious
ancestor, a permanent peace, restored the faith in its strength, and
insured its development. He put an end to the era of attacks from the
West, and even intervened in the troubles of Germany by siding with the
papal party against Henry IV. An ancient chronicler informs us that he
had been offered the crown of Germany but refused to accept it, because
“he wished to be nothing but a Hungarian.” Although he aided the popes
in their contest with Germany, he yet defended the interests of the
kingdom against papal pretensions. Pope Gregory VII. having reminded
him that the Hungarian kings had obtained their crown from one of his
predecessors, Sylvester II., and that it was fitting therefore that
they should submit to the supremacy of the Pope, Ladislaus replied,
in a letter sent to the Pope, that “he was ready to obey with filial
submission and with his whole heart the holy see, as an ecclesiastical
power, and his holiness the Pope, as his spiritual father, but that he
would not subordinate the independence of his realm to anybody or any
thing.” Nor did the king in his acts deviate from his professions, and
the popes prized his alliance too highly to find it advisable to turn
his friendship into enmity by forcing upon him their supremacy.
Ladislaus was not satisfied to merely defend his people and country
against hostile attacks; he exerted himself to increase the population
and to add to the territory. Under him Croatia was added to the
kingdom (1089), and, having founded a bishopric at Agram, he spread
the Christian faith amongst the Croatians and organized their church.
About the same time, the Kuns (Cumans), having invaded the country
from the East, Ladislaus routed them, and, making a great number of
captives amongst them, he colonized with these prisoners the lowlands
of the Theiss. Croatia is still a member of the realm of St. Stephen,
and the Kuns have been entirely absorbed by the Hungarian element,
sharing the weal and woe of the latter. History has preserved in the
fragments of the laws enacted by him clear proofs of the greatness of
Ladislaus in the affairs of peace; a severe judge and wise leader,
he defended with his sword the blessed seeds planted by him in time
of peace. He compelled the people to settle down permanently, and
taught them by severe penalties to respect the persons and property
of others. He visited with severe punishment the followers of ancient
paganism, and overwhelmed the Christian church with benefits. It was
at his request that Stephen, his son Emeric, and the martyred bishop
Gerhard, Duke Emeric’s tutor, were canonized and placed upon the list
of saints by the Church of Rome. We need not wonder, therefore, if,
confronted with such grandeur and majesty, posterity abstained from
applying to him human standards, and loved to see in his acts the
manifestations of a higher and a divine power. Thus the chronicler
speaking of him says with deep emotion: “He was rich in love, abounding
in patience, cheerful in his graciousness, overflowing in the gifts of
grace, the promoter of justice, the patron of modesty, the guardian
of the deserted, and the helper of the poor and distressed. Divine
mercy raised him in the gifts of nature above the common worth of man,
for he was brave, strong of arm, and pleasant to the sight; his whole
appearance was marked by leonine strength and majesty; he was so tall
of stature that his shoulders were visible above those about him, and,
blessed with the fulness of divine gifts, his aspect proclaimed him
to have been created to be a king.” His mortal remains lie enshrined
in the cathedral of Grosswardein (Nagyvárad), which was built by his
munificence, and the piety of the nation has made of the place of his
burial a miracle-working resort for devout pilgrims. A pious tradition
has lived for centuries amongst the people, that whenever danger
menaces the country the king leaves his bed of stone and, followed
by the invisible hosts of his departed braves, combats against the
assailants of his country.
[Illustration: DUEL BETWEEN ST. LADISLAUS AND AKUS.]
Ladislaus was still living when the religious movement which took
the form of a holy warfare began to agitate the west of Europe—a
movement which was destined to maintain its hold upon the minds of the
inhabitants of the western world for two hundred years. According to a
tradition of the nation, Ladislaus was offered, as the most chivalrous
king, the chief command over the western Knights and crusading armies,
but was prevented by death from assuming the leadership. Most of the
crusaders went eastward by the valley of the Danube, passing through
Hungary, and the waves of the first expedition reached the country
during the reign of Coloman (1095-1114), the successor of Ladislaus. It
was fortunate for the country that a king like Coloman kept guard at
this time over her frontiers; a king who, although he may have lacked
the ideal qualities of his predecessor, possessed both the strength
and the courage to protect and defend the realm. Although he was well
aware that his attitude would provoke the anger of the popes and place
him in opposition to the public opinion of the whole Christian world,
he was not deterred from mercilessly driving away from the borders
of the country the first motley host of unruly and lawless crusaders
that approached them. The only crusaders to whom he gave a friendly
reception, permitting them to pass through the country, were the troops
of Godfrey of Bouillon, but even as to these, he exacted the most
rigorous security for their good behaviour. Coloman’s firmness alone
saved the country from being engulfed by the movement, and prevented
its domestic peace, which was not as yet firmly established, from being
disturbed.
But while he was thus guarding the interests of the country with a
watchful eye, an unmoved heart, and a strong arm, he still found time
and opportunity for increasing the territory of the realm. He completed
in Croatia the conquests begun by Ladislaus, and added to the new
acquisition Dalmatia, which he wrested from the grasp of the Venetian
republic. Coloman was the first Hungarian king who styled himself King
of Croatia and Dalmatia.
Coloman won the admiration of his contemporaries and posterity, not
merely as a leader of armies, but as a ruler whose great erudition and
wise laws served to perpetuate his memory. These qualities obtained
for him the epithet “_Könyves_” (bookish) or learned King Coloman.
The chronicles extol him for putting a stop by process of law to
the prosecution of witches, and for declaring in one of his laws:
“Of witches who do not exist at all no mention shall be made.” He
bestowed great care upon the administration of justice, and among his
laws occurs the following admirable direction given to the judges:
“Every thing must be so cautiously and anxiously weighed on the scale
of justice, that innocence, on the one hand, shall not be condemned
from hatred, and, on the other, sin shall not be protected through
friendship.”
The last years of Coloman’s reign were embittered by the ambition of
his brother Álmos, who coveted the throne. The energetic and erudite
king, who had spent his whole life in consolidating the glorious work
begun by Stephen, saw with a sorrowing heart how the restless ambition
of single individuals was uprooting the plants he had so carefully
nursed. Duke Álmos rose three times in rebellion against his royal
brother, nor did he reject, on these occasions, foreign aid. Coloman
defeated him each time, and pardoned him each time. But seeing that
the incorrigible duke could not be restrained by either his power or
his magnanimity, and that he was again collecting an army against him,
Coloman caused Álmos and his young son Béla to be thrown into prison,
where both were deprived of their sight. This dark and cruel deed, the
ferocity of which can be palliated only by the rudeness of the age, was
Coloman’s last act, and, in thinking of the retribution of the life to
come, it could not fail to disturb his peaceful descent into the grave.
The risings of Álmos initiated that period of civil strife which
continued for two hundred years, until the house of the Árpáds became
extinct, and which, on the one hand, afforded the Greek emperors an
opportunity to meddle with the affairs of the country, and to attempt
the extension of their supremacy over the kingdom; and, on the other
hand, undermined the authority of royalty, lifted the oligarchs into
power, and sapped the foundations of the institutions established by
Stephen.
Álmos, the blinded duke, planned again a rising against Coloman’s
son and successor, Stephen II. (1114-1131), but the plot having been
discovered he fled to the Greek court for protection and aid. The
Hungarian and Greek armies were already confronting each other on the
banks of the lower Danube, but the shedding of blood was prevented on
this occasion by the sudden death of Duke Álmos.
His son Béla II. (1131-1141), who had also been made blind, ascended
the throne after the death of Stephen II., but he gave no thought to
pacifying the restlessness of the people or to restoring peace to the
country. One feeling alone held the mastery over his soul, shrouded
in darkness—that of vindictiveness against those who had robbed him
and his father of the light of day. His revengeful feelings were
still more fanned by his masculine queen, Ilona, the daughter of the
prince of Servia, by whose advice he summoned the diet to meet in
Arad, on the southern confines of the country, for the sole purpose
of avenging himself on this occasion. The lords, anticipating no
evil, assembled in large numbers, although there were many among them
who might have had good reasons for dreading the king’s wrath. They
came, however, confiding in the forgiveness of Béla, which had been
publicly proclaimed by him. According to the information gleaned from
the chronicles, the diet was opened by Queen Ilona herself, who,
after describing in a passionate strain the sad fate of her blinded
husband, and inveighing against the crime of those who were the
causers of his affliction, herself gave the signal for the awful work
of vengeance. A dreadful struggle ensued between the adherents of the
king and those who had been singled out by the court as victims. Many
remained dead in the hall of the diet which had thus been changed into
a battle-field, but many others, who succeeded in escaping, took away
with their wounds feelings of undying hatred against their king. These
bloody proceedings gave the disaffected a fresh cause for placing their
hopes in the Greek court, and expecting from that quarter relief from
the tyranny which oppressed them.
But when open hostilities finally broke out between the two nations,
Béla II. was no more among the living. When the war commenced, Geyza
II. (1141-1161), the son of Béla, sat on the Hungarian throne,
which the Emperor Manuel, the most powerful of the Comneni, ruled
in Constantinople. The war was a protracted one, and its scene was
chiefly on the southern frontier, along the course of the Danube and
the country near the Save, but Manuel, with all his power and wariness,
was unable to obtain an advantage over the younger and more energetic
neighbor. After the death of Geyza, his son Stephen III. succeeded to
the throne. The Greek emperor refused to recognize him as the king
of Hungary, and attempted to place upon the throne as his vassals,
successively, the two brothers of Geyza who had found a refuge at his
court, but he did not succeed with either of the pretenders. One of his
protégés died young, while the other was driven from the country by the
lawfully elected king, Stephen III.
Manuel, seeing all his schemes overthrown, and perceiving that, as an
enemy, he had utterly failed, pretended now to feelings of friendship,
and offered peace to the Hungarians. As a further pledge of peace he
requested King Stephen III. to permit his brother Béla to reside with
him at Constantinople, promising that he would adopt him as his son
and heir. Manuel, having no sons to whom he might leave the imperial
throne, in all probability secretly cherished the hope that his adopted
son would at some future day succeed to the Greek throne, and would
also inherit the crown of St. Stephen, and that by this means the two
neighboring countries, which he did not succeed in uniting by force
of arms, would, in the course of time, become one. Fate, however,
seemed to have conspired to frustrate the best laid plans of the Greek
emperor. He carried Duke Béla with him to Constantinople, adopted him
as his son, declared him his heir, and every thing appeared to point
to a happy realization of his ambitious dreams, when unexpectedly a
son was born to him, an event which completely upset his calculations.
It became now impossible for Manuel to continue to keep the young
Hungarian duke at his court, unless, indeed, he wanted to raise a rival
to his own son; he, therefore, deprived him of all the distinctions he
had heaped upon him, and sent him hurriedly back to his native country,
where the throne had just become vacant by the death of Stephen III.
Manuel, however, made the young duke take a solemn oath before he
allowed him to depart that he would never attack the Greek empire, and
this empty formality was all that he was able to achieve in furtherance
of his scheme to impose his supremacy upon Hungary. The same duke,
however, who had been nurtured in the culture of Greece, and became
King of Hungary as Béla III., completely banished Greek influence from
the country, and secured its independence for a long time to come.
Béla III. (1173-1196) was one of the most powerful and respected rulers
of Hungary. He possessed great kingly qualities, and his character
commanded universal respect. He had a great deal to contend with, after
his return from Constantinople, before he succeeded in being firmly
seated on his throne. He was received with feelings of suspicion by
the powerful nobility, the chief dignitaries of the church, and by
the queen-mother herself, who all looked upon him as a partisan of
the eastern despotism, and as an enemy to the Roman Catholic Church,
and who were anxious to place his brother Geyza upon the throne. Béla
triumphed before long over all his enemies. He had his brother thrown
into prison, sent his mother into exile, restrained and humiliated
the powerful oligarchs, and conciliated the friendship of the high
prelacy by his munificence and liberality towards the church of the
country. Having restored order at home, he devoted himself to the task
of obtaining again possession of the territory Manuel had seized. The
reconquering of the Dalmatian seashore involved him in a war with
Venice, the envious rival of the Hungarian kingdom, in the course of
which Béla had occasion to give proof of his military power on a new
scene of action, where the valor of his ancestors had never had an
opportunity of shining, by achieving over the proud republic a great
triumph on the sea. Béla had learned a great deal at the Greek court,
but all his valuable acquirements he employed for the advantage of his
country. He did not exactly open new avenues for the development of the
nation; his chief merit consisted rather in leading her back to the
road marked out by Stephen, and successfully pursued by King Ladislaus
and King Coloman. His every effort tended to bring the nation closer
to that western civilization which had fostered her tender beginnings,
and the rejection of which all this time would have amounted to a
stultification of her past, and a certain risk of her future. Two
things, however, were of paramount necessity to enable the people to
prosper by the king’s judicious exertions in this direction: to restore
to the country the needful rest she had not now enjoyed for half a
century, and to reëstablish order within the kingdom, torn by the
partisanship of the last fifty years. Béla resolutely set to the task
of establishing peace and order. He relentlessly pursued the thieves
and robbers who rendered life and property insecure and had increased
to a frightful extent since Coloman’s time, and, in order to do it more
effectually, he appointed special officers in every county for that
purpose, establishing, at the same time, a royal chancery at the court
with a view to giving greater effect to the government of the country
and the administration of justice. The proceedings in important affairs
of state or private law-suits taken before the king—which hitherto
had been oral—now had to be carried on in writing. The country, under
Béla’s well-ordered government, became more prosperous, and the nation
more polished. Béla’s first wife was a Greek princess, and his second
a French princess. Both the queens, with the retinues following them
to the court, introduced there the good taste, culture, and manners
of the Greeks and French, so that a German chronicler happening to
visit the court at that time, could not find adequate words to extol
its magnificent splendors. Culture was not confined to the court; it
spread to the nation itself, for we find that the university, recently
established in Paris, was attended by a number of Hungarian youths.
All the acts of Béla indicate that he had selected for his model in
government one of his most distinguished ancestors, Ladislaus, for
whom, as an expression of his own and the nation’s piety, he had also,
in 1192, secured a place on the list of saints recognized by the Church
of Rome.
Béla, while thus advancing the interests of the kingdom and the nation,
did not lose sight of the claims of the age upon kings and rulers
to support the holy wars waged by Christendom against the infidels.
He followed with sympathy the movements of the crusaders, and upon
Jerusalem’s falling into the hands of the infidels in 1187, he planned
himself to lead an army for the purpose of reconquering the holy city.
The third crusade was begun in 1189, and the German forces, under
the lead of the emperor, Frederic Barbarossa, passed on their way to
the Holy Land through Hungary. Béla received his distinguished guest
with royal pomp, abundantly provided the German troops with every
thing necessary, but he himself did not join the crusaders. What the
circumstances were that prevented the king from taking part in the
crusades it would be difficult now to determine, but that they must
have been weighty ones is amply proved by the fact that he had been
long preparing for a crusading campaign, and had for that purpose
collected a great deal of treasure. The idea was present before his
mind at the time of his death, for he directed that his elder son,
Emeric, should succeed him on the throne, and the younger, Duke Andrew,
should inherit the treasure collected for the pious object, and employ
it in the carrying out of the paternal intentions. Béla’s fate had that
in common with the fate of the most conspicuous kings of Hungary—that
posterity praised his grand achievements, while his own children failed
to respect and preserve the inheritance left to them by a distinguished
sire.
The feud between the two brothers broke out immediately after the
death of Béla III. Andrew collected troops for the pretended purpose
of executing the last will of his father, but in reality to employ
them against his own brother. He succeeded in defeating the army of
King Emeric, who was taken unawares, and was, besides, vacillating
and incapable, and, after occupying Croatia and Dalmatia, to which he
added fresh territory, he proclaimed himself, in 1198, Duke of Croatia,
Dalmatia, Rama, and Chulmia (Bosnia and Herzegovina). Emeric vainly
urged Innocent III., the most powerful pope since Gregory VII., to
compel the rebellious duke to carry out the pious vows of his father.
Andrew did not stir one step towards the Holy Land, but, persevering
in his sinful perverseness, continued to repeat his attacks against the
lawful king. At last, during one of his outbreaks, he was overtaken by
an avenging Nemesis.
The armies of the two brothers confronted each other on the banks of
the Drave. The camp of Andrew was stirring with a strong and numerous
army which, in anticipation of a certain victory, was loudly revelling
and making merry. King Emeric’s eyes sadly surveyed his own scant
following, whose devotion and determination, great as they were, did
not seem sufficient to make up for the deficiency in numbers. The
collision between the opposing armies was inevitable, and the king felt
that his utter discomfiture would be the result of the battle. His
desperate condition inspired him with a sudden resolution, and, without
communicating his intention to any one, he went into the enemy’s camp,
dressed in kingly state, and, sceptre in hand, made straight for his
brother’s tent. The revelling warriors, in surprise, were struck with
awe at the marvellous spectacle suddenly bursting in upon their dazed
eyes. “I wish to see the man who will dare to raise a sinful arm
against his king and master,” were the magic words which opened him the
way through the gaping multitude. Upon arriving in his brother’s tent
he seized the rebellious duke’s hands and led him captive to his own
camp. The above narrative of the event, as gleaned from the chronicles,
may not agree in every particular with the actual occurrence, but Duke
Andrew became the king’s prisoner, and remained captive until the
latter called him to his deathbed, generously confiding to his care
his infant son, Ladislaus, who had already been crowned king.
Andrew proved as faithless a guardian as he had been a false brother.
He could not restrain his ambition, but deprived Ladislaus of his
crown, and drove him and his mother from the court. Shortly afterwards,
the unhappy youth died, and Andrew could, at last, in 1205, ascend the
throne he had so long coveted, and whose possession he had attempted
to achieve by means in the choice of which he never consulted his
conscience.
The reign of Andrew II. (1205-1235) deserves a conspicuous place in
the history of Hungary, not for its beneficence, but for its weakness
and shortcomings. The never-ending civil wars of the last century,
especially the internecine struggle between the two brothers, had
the effect of weakening the kingdom, lowering the royal power and
authority, and, as a consequence of the decay of the latter, of
increasing the overbearing spirit of the oligarchs. Andrew II. could
not escape the condign punishment brought upon himself by his own acts.
His whole reign was a series of feeble attempts to free himself from
the entangling web caused by his own faults and the licentiousness of
the oligarchy. He presented the spectacle of a man whose ambition was
greater than his abilities, and whose levity equalled his ambition.
In the beginning of his reign he was completely under the influence
of his wife, Gertrude, who was of Tyrolese descent, and who suffered
the country to become a prey to her foreign relations and favorites.
Yet when the great and powerful lords rose against the plundering
foreigners, the licentious court, and the tyrannical and wicked queen,
killing the latter in her own palace, Andrew had neither the courage
nor the power to exert his royal authority against the rebels, but was
rather glad that the storm had passed over his head and had not singled
him out for its victim. Instead of resenting the injury done to him, he
conciliated his enemies by presents and gifts, and indulged in schemes
of a new matrimonial alliance. He was fond of pomp, splendor, generous
expenditure, and the ostentatious display of the court, but the royal
revenues soon proved inadequate to pay the sums thus squandered,
reduced as the royal domains had been by grants of entire counties. The
king, in order to raise the revenues, mortgaged the imposts and tolls,
and, by debasing the coinage, dishonestly added to his resources.
The din of the revels of the court prevented the loud complaints of
the people, who were oppressed and worried in a thousand ways by the
oligarchs and the tax-and toll-gatherers, from reaching the ears of
the king. At times his restlessness and ambition still involved him in
adventurous enterprises. Thus he wished to elevate his son, Duke Béla,
to the throne of Galicia, but lacked the strength to accomplish his
scheme. The campaign against Galicia only added to the expenditures
of the country, and, indeed, it happened that the king with his son
and the whole army were in the most imminent danger of destruction.
His mind was also disturbed by his failure to carry out the wishes of
his father, and, at last, he determined, in 1217, to march an army to
the Holy Land. In order to raise the money necessary for the campaign
he plundered the churches and monasteries, and sold to Venice the
city of Zara, the bulwark of the Dalmatian seashore. He finally left
the country with the army thus collected, but while he was roaming
about in the Holy Land without aim or purpose, the orphaned country
was reduced to the brink of misery. “When we returned home from our
expedition,” complained the king himself, in a letter addressed to the
holy see, “we found that both the clergy and the laymen had been guilty
of wickedness such as surpasses all imagination. All the treasure of
the country we found squandered, and fifteen years will not suffice
to restore our land to her former better condition.” The condition of
the country must have been sad, indeed, if the state the king had left
her in might be called good in comparison with it, and however heavily
the responsibility of the fresh calamities rested upon the king, his
truthfulness in this instance cannot be doubted.
The gloomy rule of Andrew II. was relieved by one cheering event which
contained the germ of a better future. The gentry, comprising in its
ranks the largest part of the freeholders of the country, unable to
bear longer the weak government of the king, the violence of the
oligarchy, and the scourge of the army of extortionate gatherers of
taxes and tolls, at last lifted their heads and asked the throne to
listen to their complaints and to remedy their wrongs. Béla himself,
the king’s son, whom Andrew II. had caused to be crowned before going
to the Holy Land, was the leader and spokesman of the nobility, who
had stood up in defence of the sacredness of the constitution, and who
now urged the return to the rule of law in the land.
Their wrongs, and the remedies exacted by the gentry were set forth
in the following strain: The king should not, at the expense of
the patriots, bestow favors upon foreigners, nor elevate them to
dignities, and distribute among them the domains of the country; entire
counties or dignities of state should not, as a practice, be granted
in perpetuity, and he should not suffer avaricious nobles to grasp
a greater number of offices than they could efficiently administer.
He should guard the ancient immunities of the nobles, so that they
might freely dispose of their property, and not be molested in their
persons without lawful judgment, and should not be burdened with taxes
or extortionate exactions of any kind. He should take care that the
tax-and toll-gatherers and other officials be taken from the ranks of
the gentry, and should remove from his service the Ishmaelites and
the Jews. Every thing opposed to these requirements he should at once
bring to an end. The county estates, granted away to the injury of the
land or dishonestly obtained, should be taken back by the king, and he
should, in pursuance of the ancient custom of the country, every year,
on St. Stephen’s day, convoke the diet, whose duty it was to act upon
the complaints of the nation and to defend her liberty when attacked.
The king, however, moved neither by the voice of truth, nor by the
misery of his people, refused to accede to these requests. In the
breast of Andrew II., who, during his whole reign, had utterly
neglected the duties coupled with his exalted station, awoke on the
present occasion a feeling of injured royal dignity. But the gentry
were determined to enforce their demands, and, gathering around the
heir to the throne, they took up arms in order to obtain by force the
concessions they deemed necessary for the good of the country. Father
and son with their armies were already confronting each other, when the
chief prelates interfered, and prevailed upon Andrew to listen to the
wishes of the gentry. The concessions were drawn up in form of a royal
letter and the king bound himself and his successors by oath to observe
the stipulations contained in it. Posterity has given this royal letter
the name of the _Golden Bull_, owing to the fact that the seal appended
to it by a silk string rests in a box made of gold.
This remarkable document, which terminated the internal strife
extending over a period of a hundred years, and to which for six
centuries the past generations of Hungary were in the habit of proudly
referring as the foundation of the constitution of the Hungarian
nobility, reads, omitting passages of minor importance, as follows:
“In the name of the Holy Trinity and of the indivisible Unity,
Andrew, by the grace of God, hereditary king of Hungary, Dalmatia,
Croatia, Rama, Servia, and Galicia: Whereas the nobles and others in
our realm have suffered detriment in many parts of their liberties,
as established by King St. Stephen, through the power of some
kings—who, either from anger revenged themselves, or listened to the
counsels of wicked advisers, or sought their own advantage,—and our
nobles have frequently appealed to our Majesty’s and our ancestors’
ears with petitions and complaints concerning the amelioration of
our land—we, therefore, as in duty bound, desirous of satisfying
their request, grant to them as well as to the other inhabitants of
our realm the liberty granted by the sacred king, and we further
ordain other matters pertaining to the improvement of the land in
this wise: We ordain that we are bound annually to celebrate the
day of the sacred king at Stuhlweissenburg and that, if we should
be prevented from being present, the palatine shall be there in our
place and shall hear the causes as our representative, and all the
nobles may freely assemble there according to their pleasure. It is
also our will, that neither we nor our successors shall detain or
oppress the nobles on account of any powerful person, unless they
be first summoned and sentenced by due process of law. Further we
shall not cause taxes to be collected on the estates of the nobles
or of the clergy of the Church. If a noble shall die without male
issue his daughter shall be entitled to one fourth of his property;
as to the rest he may dispose of it as he pleases, and if death
should intervene before his doing so it shall descend to his nearer
relatives, and if he is absolutely without kin then the inheritance
shall go to the king. If the king is desirous of taking troops out
of the country the nobles shall not be bound to go with him unless
at his expense; if, however, an army should invade the country all
the nobles are bound to go. The palatine shall be judge over all
the people of our realm without distinction; but in capital cases
and matters of property which concern the nobles the palatine shall
not decide without the king’s knowledge. If foreigners come to the
country they shall not be elevated to dignities without the consent
of the council of the realm; land shall not be given to those who
are strangers to the realm. The king shall not grant entire counties
or offices of any kind in perpetuity. Officers of the treasury, salt
bureaux, and customs must be nobles of our realm; Ishmaelites and
Jews shall be incapable of holding such offices. Excepting these four
great lords, the palatine, the banus, the court judges of the king
and queen, no one shall have two dignities at the same time. Should,
however, we, or any of our successors, at any time be disposed to
infringe upon any of these our orders, the bishops as well as the
other lords and the nobles of the realm, shall be at liberty, jointly
or singly, by virtue of this letter, to oppose and contradict us and
our successors, forever, without incurring the penalty of treason.
Given by the hand of Kletus, the chancellor of our court, in the year
of grace one thousand two hundred and twenty-two.”
King Andrew, who had to be compelled by force to issue the Golden Bull,
could, however, not be coerced by any power to observe the promises
he had made therein. The exertions of the heir presumptive and the
nobility as well as the wrath of the pope were of no avail. Nine years
later he confirmed its contents by a fresh oath, but hardly two years
elapsed when he incurred the curse of Rome for again disregarding his
oath. Struggles, extending over many centuries, were necessary to
realize the words of the Golden Bull. Time had then already effaced the
memory of Andrew’s follies and frailties, and posterity saw him only in
the reflected light of the great concessions made by his royal missive.
The estates of the diet which met at Rákos in 1505 spoke of him in
terms of extravagant praise as the king “who had made the Hungarians
great and glorious, and had raised their fame to the very stars.”
The struggles which resulted in the issuing of the Golden Bull were by
no means over. The nobility had obtained from royalty the concession
of their rights, but were lacking the power to maintain them, and to
secure their permanency. The very charter of their liberties furnished
matter for fresh disputes and dissensions. In these contests, however,
the nobility now seldom attacked royalty, the weakening of which
would have proved injurious to their own interests, but they usually
allied themselves with the kings against the oligarchs, who treated
with contempt both law and right, having no need of the protection of
either, and who indulged in tyrannical violence against the throne
as well as the nation. The licentiousness and increasing power of the
oligarchs were the sore spot in the body politic during the period of
the last Árpáds, and in a greater and lesser degree, now apparently
healed, now more envenomed than ever, it continued to be for centuries
a disturbing element in the public life of the country.
The struggle between royalty, supported by the nation, and the unruly
great lords had just commenced, when the storm of the Mongol invasion
broke loose upon the country, shaking it to its very foundations. When
the storm subsided only the weak ones were found to have suffered, the
strong ones came out of the nation’s calamity more powerful than ever.
The national misfortunes only served to advance the interests of the
oligarchs, who, about this time, began more frequently to surround
the crests of the mountains with stone walls, and, dwelling in their
rocky nests, defied royalty with increasing boldness, and oppressed the
people with greater impunity than ever. The chroniclers in recalling
this period mourn with bitter wailing the gloom which had settled upon
the country, the incapacity of the kings, the pride and violence of the
lords, and the miserable condition of the people. That the power of
the nation was not entirely gone, however, was shown by the cheering
fact, casting a ray of light into the gloom of those days, that at the
very time when the authority of royalty had sunk to the lowest ebb,
the Hungarian arms were able to cope with the powerful Slavic empire
ruled by Ottokar, king of Bohemia, and to assist in establishing the
power of the Hapsburgs. Unfortunately the national strength was for the
most part divided against itself, and the very triumph of the Hungarian
arms against Ottokar proved injurious to the nation at large, for it
redounded only to the glory of the oligarchy, and tended to confirm
their power.
After the death of Andrew II., his son, Béla IV. (1235-1270), devoted
himself with youthful energy to the task of restoring the ascendancy of
the royal power and authority, of insuring respect to the laws, and of
humbling the pride of the oligarchy. He removed the evil counsellors
of his father, sent the principal ringleaders to prison, surrounded
himself with good patriots, and where gentle words proved inefficacious
he resorted to arms in order to obtain possession of the royal domains
and county lands which single oligarchs had contrived to acquire by
grant during his father’s life or from his ancestors, or which had been
lawlessly appropriated by them. The efforts made by the youthful king
were, however, of no avail. The very successes which attended here and
there his policy served only to excite to a higher pitch the anger and
resentment of the great lords, and deepened the estrangement between
them and the throne. The disaffected oligarchs, whose selfishness
was not tempered by patriotism, and whose passions did not know the
bridle of the law, were so base as to elevate a foreign prince, Duke
Frederic of Austria, to the throne, in opposition to their lawful
king. The watchfulness of Béla alone prevented the royal inheritance
from passing, at that time already, from the Árpáds into foreign
hands. Béla succeeded in driving back Frederic, and in defeating the
treasonable schemes of the oligarchy, but he became, at the same time,
convinced that until he was able to present to the opposing lords a
more formidable front he would have to renounce the realization of the
fond hopes of his youth.
Béla looked about him for fresh resources to strengthen his authority
and to add to his power. Pious Dominican monks, just then returning to
the country from the regions of the Volga, told the tale that in the
far east, along the banks of that river, they met with that fraction
of the Hungarians who, during the period preceding the occupation of
Hungary, had parted from their brethren near the Black Sea, where the
latter continued their march westward. These accounts suggested to
Béla the scheme of inviting the distant Eastern brothers to settle
in his realm, hoping to augment the royal power by the aid of the
new settlers, and to be thus enabled to resume successfully his
contest with the proud lords. This scheme, however, failed, but the
same circumstances which frustrated his plans as to his countrymen
near the Volga, assisted him in obtaining aid from another quarter.
The Mongol hordes, which came rushing from Central Asia toward the
western world, swept in their impetuous onward march the Hungarians
near the Volga out of existence; but the same wild current drove
also the Kuns (Cumans) out of their habitations near the Black Sea,
and the latter, after having roamed about homeless for a time, and
then reached the frontiers of Hungary, begged of King Béla to allow
them to come into the country and to settle there. Forty thousand
families were in search of a new country, and forty thousand fierce
warriors offered their services to King Béla. The people of Hungary
were averse to receiving immigration on so large a scale, and the
great lords loudly protested against the reception of the new comers,
being convinced that the latter would only enhance the king’s power,
and become instrumental in humbling their order. The king, however,
considering the good of the country only, braved the opposition, and
admitting Kuthen, king of the Kuns, with his people, into the land,
assigned to them as their future abode the plain of the Theiss. Nor
did he forget to make their conversion to Christianity a condition of
their admission. The good effects Béla had anticipated from his new
colony were slow in showing themselves, but the evil consequences of
the recent settlement became manifest at once. The great numbers of
this rude and barbarous element, who were as little disposed to live
in fixed habitations as to embrace Christianity, soon disgusted the
people by their lawlessness, violence, unruliness, and the devastations
committed by them amongst the Hungarian population. The complaints of
all classes, without distinction, which reached the king’s ear, became
daily louder. Béla was unable to come to the relief of the people, for
to have turned against the Kuns, as he was asked to do, would have
shaken them in their fidelity to him. But by showing a preference for
the new comers he also forfeited the affection of his old adherents,
the good patriots who had firmly stood by him, hitherto, in all his
troubles. Dissensions arose between the king, who was animated by
the purest intentions, and his people, who were unable to fathom the
patriotic motives of his actions; and they were at their highest when
the hurricane which had swept away the Hungarians on the banks of the
Volga, and driven the Kuns to the plains of the Theiss, reached at last
the crests of the Carpathian mountains.
The successors of Jenghis Khan, wishing to extend the frontiers of
their vast Asiatic empire toward the west, crossed the Volga, overran
the Russian steppes, and reduced Moscow to ashes in 1238. Proud and
beautiful Kiev was soon after, in 1240, humbled by their victorious
arms. The Hungarians were aware of the approach of the formidable foe,
but their internal dissensions, and their troubles with the Kuns and
with their king, made them forget the imminence of the danger that
menaced them. They indulged, besides, in the hope that the mighty
Carpathian mountains would arrest the fierce current in its onward
course. But the nation was soon roused from its fancied security and
awoke to a dread sense of the true situation. The mournful fate of
Kiev, the sufferings of the Polish people, and the threatening language
of the embassy sent by Batu Khan, the general of Oktai, the Great Khan,
who had been the terror of the Russians, dispelled the illusions, of
the most sanguine.
The mind of King Béla was beset with anxious thoughts, but his courage
did not fail him. Although it was rather late for efficient military
preparations, he labored day and night to put the country into a state
of defence against the coming peril. He demolished the forests, and
barricaded with the timber thus obtained the Carpathian passes. He
invited his adherents to take counsel with him, and called to arms the
ecclesiastical and lay lords, the soldiery of the counties, and every
man in the country capable of bearing arms. According to ancient custom
he caused the bloody sword to be carried about throughout the land.
His active zeal was not confined to his realm alone, but, sending his
ambassadors to the western courts, he instructed them to beg, admonish,
and urge the rulers of the West, in the name of Christianity, to come
to his aid. It was all in vain. The foreign courts did not stir, and
the Hungarian lords, in their surprise and dismay, instead of devising
means to meet the danger, were wildly looking about them for some one
to be made responsible for the coming peril, and to serve as a victim
of their anger. They turned with passionate hatred upon the king and
the Kuns, saying that he with his Kuns should defend the country, and
that the king need not count upon them in this emergency. The spring
of 1241 was already nearing, and still the royal banner, floating
over Pesth, proclaimed to the world the absence of troops and the
defencelessness of the country. The Mongolian armies had, meanwhile,
already begun to press forward. Their right wing marched on Poland
and Silesia, in order to effect an entrance into the country from the
north-west; the left wing, passing through Moldavia, approached the
snowy mountains of Transylvania; whilst the army of the centre was led
by Batu Khan himself across the northwestern Carpathians to the pass
of Bereczke. Thus the two arms of the Mongol armies were preparing to
crush, in a deadly embrace, the doomed country.
Batu Khan crossed the Carpathians on the 12th of March, 1241, and,
having dispersed the troops of Palatine Héderváry, at the foot of
the mountains, the active Mongol cavalry troops overran with such
suddenness the plain watered by the Theiss, that four days later the
smoke of the burning villages, set on fire by the ruthless enemy, could
be discerned from the walls of Pesth. The Hungarian lords, even at this
critical moment, failed to arrive with their contingents, and those who
were under arms near Pesth nursed their wrath, not against the enemy,
but against the hated Kun immigrants whom they denounced as the spies
and allies of the Mongols, and as traitors to Hungary. They rushed upon
the unsuspecting Kuns with savage rage, massacring their king, Kuthen,
together with his household, at his quarters in Pesth. The Kuns,
incensed at this treachery, were not slow to retaliate. One portion of
them left the country, killing, burning, and devastating every thing
before them, whilst the other joined the Mongols in order to avenge
more thoroughly their unjust persecution.
Towards the latter end of March, Béla, inspired by despair rather than
by any hope of success, led the royal army which had gathered around
Pesth, and numbered altogether from 50,000 to 60,000 warriors, against
the Mongols. This scanty force was all that the Hungarian nation,
shorn of its valor and sadly wanting in public spirit, opposed to the
invading enemy. The Mongol army retreated before Béla as far as the
Theiss, and there Batu Khan, falling back with both wings of his army,
pitched his camp in the angle formed by the Sajó and the Theiss. King
Béla was intent upon reaching the same point, and placed his forces
on the plain extending along the right bank of the Sajó, opposite the
Mongol camp. Here on the plain of Muhi took place the dreadful conflict
between the two armies. From the dawn of day to late in the night
lasted the bloody engagement which ended with the complete annihilation
of the Hungarian army. On the fated battle-field perished the chief
prelates of the church, the highest dignitaries of the state taken from
the ranks of the best patriots, thousands of the gentry, and the hope
and last prop of the nation, her only army. Only few amongst those
who did not fall amidst the shock of battle could escape with their
lives. The pursuing enemy was everywhere close upon the track of the
fugitives. “During a march of two days,” says Rogerius, a contemporary
writer, who had been an eye-witness of these horrors, “thou couldst see
nothing along the roads but fallen warriors. Their dead bodies were
lying about like stones in a quarry.”
Yet, amidst all these misfortunes, there was one gleam of comfort in
store for the nation. Every thing, indeed, was lost, but her king was
saved, and whilst he lived the nation still kept up her hopes and
faith in a better future. A few devoted followers had rescued Béla from
the perils of the bloody engagement near the banks of the Sajó, and
the fugitive king, wandering for a while amidst the mountains of Upper
Hungary, finally arrived at the court of Frederic, Duke of Austria,
to whom he had previously sent his family and royal treasures. Here,
however, instead of meeting with hospitality, he was made prisoner,
and succeeded in regaining his freedom only by abandoning to his
avaricious neighbor, who turned Béla’s misfortunes to his profit, his
treasures, his crown, and the possession of three counties. Béla then
sent his family to the Dalmatian seashore, whilst he himself hurried
back to his unfortunate land, to the region near the Drave, in order
to save what could yet be saved. The Danube alone interfered with the
further advance of the Mongols. Two thirds of the realm had already
fallen a prey to the fierce rage, greed, and brutal passions of the
enemy. Whilst the Mongol Khan was dividing one half of the country, as
conquered territory, into hundredths and tenths, and the people, lured
from their hiding-places, lowered their necks, terror-stricken under
the new yoke, Béla collected anew an army in the western part of the
realm, and despatched ambassadors to the rulers of the western states.
But before he could yet see the results of his renewed exertions, the
severity of the winter, by covering the Danube with ice, afforded
the Mongols an opportunity to penetrate into the Western half of
the country. The places which guarded the most sacred memorials of
Hungarian royalty and Christianity, became a mass of smouldering
ruins. The waves of the Mongolian inundation closed now upon the
entire land. Béla was again compelled to seek safety in flight, and,
mistrusting the continent, he sought a refuge near the sea. He retired,
together with his family, first to Spalato, and subsequently to his
fortified castle Trau, which was defended on almost every side by the
sea. But his pursuers, who seemed to look upon their victories as
incomplete as long as the king was not in their power, were on his
track even there, and, devastating the seashore, as far as Ragusa,
they, at last, desperate with rage, laid siege to Trau.
The last hopes of the nation had centred upon the sea-fortress, and now
these hopes, too, seemed to vanish, when suddenly, as by a miracle, the
besiegers ceased their hostilities, folded up their tents, and departed
for the East. At the command of Batu Khan the whole Mongolian army,
with all their followers, left the razed country, the flood of the
invaders receding to the banks of the Volga, whence it had come. Oktai,
the Great Khan, was dead, and Batu Khan hurried back to be present at
the funeral feast, and to make his powerful voice, emphasized by the
arms of his entire army, felt in the election of the new ruler.
After the Mongols had withdrawn, King Béla returned, in company of a
few of his trusty followers, to his desolated land. He tottered under
the weight of the misfortunes and woes of his people. To use the
words of a contemporary writer and eye-witness describing the scene
of desolation which met Béla’s eyes: “Here and there a tower, half
burnt and blackened by smoke, and rearing its head towards the sky,
like a mourning flag over a funereal monument, indicated the direction
in which they were to advance. The highways were overgrown with grass,
the fields white with bleaching bones, and not a living soul came out
to meet them. And the deeper they penetrated into the land, the more
terrible became the sights they saw. When at last those who survived
crept forth from their hiding-places, half of them fell victims to wild
animals, starvation, and pestilence. The stores laid up by the tillers
of the soil, the year before, had been carried away by the Mongols, and
the little grain they could sow after the departure of the enemy had
hardly sprung up when it was devoured by locusts. The famine assumed
such frightful proportions that starving people, in their frenzy,
killed each other, and it happened that men would bring to market human
flesh for sale. Since the birth of Christ no country has ever been
overwhelmed by such misery.”
Great deeds spring up in noble souls harrowed by misfortune. Béla
showed himself greatest in the extreme misery of his nation. In order
to relieve the wants of the people and to enable them to till the
soil, he caused to be imported seed for sowing and draught cattle
from the neighboring countries. He colonized with new inhabitants the
depopulated regions, held out inducements to German artisans, miners,
and traders to settle in towns, and invited again the Kuns, who were
roaming in the regions of the Lower Danube, to return to their former
habitations on the rich lands of the Theiss. He bestowed especial
care upon the cities, founded new ones, and granted additional
privileges to the old ones. He was also the founder of Buda, which
stands to this day. He ordered the larger cities to be surrounded by
walls, caused forts, built of stone, to be erected in the neighborhood
of more important roads, and encouraged the great lords to build
similar forts. He was careful to guard the eastern frontiers, but
remembering that the durability of the internal order was as powerful a
support of the security of the land as well defended frontiers, he was
bent upon making the laws respected. Hardly five years had passed since
Béla engaged in his arduous task, and already the country recuperated
to such an extent that the nation could receive with composure the news
that the Mongols were making fresh preparations for a second attack,
and was even, for years, able to turn the weight of her whole power
against the Western states.
[Illustration: BELA IV. RETURNS TO HIS COUNTRY DEVASTATED BY THE
MONGOLS.]
The nation which stood in such great need of peace, was unfortunately
doomed never to enjoy its blessings. Béla himself, as soon as he
had gained sufficient strength, deemed it his first duty to punish
Frederic, the faithless Austrian duke, and to recover the treasures
retained by the latter’s treachery. The war between the two neighbors
began in 1246. The contest in itself was of no great significance but
its consequences were highly important. Béla achieved, with the help of
his Kun warriors, a complete triumph over Frederic, who lost his life
on the battle-field. Frederic was the last of the Babenberg line, and
the inheritance of the Babenbergs, the Austrian principalities, were,
through his death, left without a master. Béla coveted for himself the
masterless countries, but was opposed in his schemes in that direction
by Ottokar, the powerful king of Bohemia, who then already labored for
the realization of his ambitious dream, the founding of a great Slavic
empire. The Hungarian king could not expose his country to the dangers
involved in the erection of such a Slavic empire along the western
borders, and was therefore opposed, from the beginning, to Ottokar’s
aspirations. The contest between Hungary and Bohemia was at first waged
for the Babenberg possessions, but its original cause was lost sight
of, and the war continued for many years, to terminate only with the
overthrow of Ottokar and the ruin of his empire. Béla was engaged in
these wars during the last years of his reign, and they were continued
by his son Stephen V., and his grandson Ladislaus IV.
These wars brought into a community of interests the kings of the
house of Árpád and the Hapsburgs, whose first great ancestor, Rudolph,
ascended in 1273, the German imperial throne, the stability of which
was endangered by Ottokar. The latter had seceded from the German
empire, and was now building up at its expense his own great Slavic
kingdom. It was quite natural, therefore, that Ladislaus IV., King of
Hungary, and Rudolph of Hapsburg, should enter into an armed alliance
for the purpose of combating the common enemy, who, confident in
his power, threatened both his eastern and his western neighbor.
Twice they led their joint armies against Ottokar, and, at last, in
the course of the second campaign in 1278, they completely routed
the Czech armies near Stillfried and Diernkrut in the plain of the
Morava, or March. Side by side with Rudolph’s ten thousand men fought
forty thousand Kun warriors against Ottokar, the preponderance of the
Hungarian arms securing at last the triumph of the allies. Ottokar’s
power was overthrown and he himself fell, buried beneath the ruins of
his kingdom. Rudolph strengthened the German throne, whose fate the
events of subsequent centuries closely identified with that of his
family, and the Austrian principalities became the hereditary provinces
of the Hapsburgs. Hungary derived but an unequal benefit from this
triumph. To be sure the gratitude of the ally, freed from a formidable
enemy, was fervent, and his vows of friendship (not always respected
by his successors) most earnest. Thus Rudolph writes to Ladislaus IV.:
“Tongue cannot tell, nor pen describe, the immense joy we feel at your
having risen with so powerful a force to avenge our common injuries.
Wherefore, glorifying God, we express the greatest gratitude of which
we are capable to your Majesty, and loudly promise that no vicissitude
shall shake us in the indissoluble alliance which we have vowed to
you.” The booty, gratifying the avarice of a few and the vanity of
the nation, could also hardly be reckoned a solid advantage. One
important result accrued, undoubtedly by the triumph of the allies,
also to Hungary, in the destruction of Ottokar’s Slavic kingdom. In
other respects the victory proved rather a disadvantage, for, instead
of strengthening the power of the state, it relieved the minds of the
powerful lords in the land, who now, freed from anxiety, once more
indulged their self-seeking propensities, and labored to ruin the
country.
Ladislaus IV. (1272-1290) not only did not possess the qualities which
might have enabled him to oppose the corruption of his age, but, by his
levity, undermined even the last remnant of the royal authority which
had become more and more feeble in the course of the last century.
The king, unmindful of his crown, and indifferent to the interests of
the nation, deserted his ancestral court, and, pitching his residence
amongst the tents of the Kuns, passed there his life in the society of
his boon companions in riotous living and revels, destructive alike
of his dignity as a man and king, and detrimental to the hopes of the
nation. The great of the land imitated the example set by their king.
They were led exclusively by their insatiate self-indulgence, and
neither the law of the land nor the commands of the Church, the voice
of faith or morality, could prevail upon them to respect themselves,
and to have regard for the rights of others. The weak became the
victims of the strong, and the most powerful were making preparations
to divide amongst themselves the masterless and defenceless country.
The Brebiris along the sea-shore, the Németujváris beyond the
Danube, the Csák family in the regions of the Vág, and the Apors in
Transylvania, were in reality the little kings of the country. They
broke off a piece from the domain of St. Stephen whenever it suited
them, and of the size they wanted. They let their troops loose upon
the people, and carried on wars in their own way with one another,
and with the neighbors. And if any thing escaped the greed of the
oligarchs, it fell into the hands of the Kuns, who, trusting in the
protection and favor of the king, plundered and devastated the land
like marauding armies. “Then descended,” says the chronicler, “Hungary
from the grandeur of her glory. Owing to the domestic wars the cities
became deserted and the villages reduced to ashes, peace and harmony
were trampled upon, the wealthy became impoverished, and the nobles,
in their misery, turned peasants. It was at this period that the
two-wheeled cart got the name of St. Ladislaus’ wagon, for owing to the
universal plundering of the draught-cattle, the number of the latter
had decreased to such an extent that people were compelled to draw
these carts themselves.”
The country before long, however, was free from the misrule of
Ladislaus, but his death did not extricate it from the misery into
which he had plunged it. A number of Kun youths, apparently from
motives of private vengeance, assassinated him in his tent. The death
of Ladislaus became a new source of trouble to the country, for there
was now but one male descendant of the house of Árpád to ascend the
throne, Duke Andrew, the grandson of Andrew II., the king who had given
the Golden Bull to the Hungarians. Stephen, the father of Duke Andrew,
had left Hungary early in life, and, settling in Venice, married there
Tomasina Morozzoni, a lady descended from a distinguished patrician
family.
Andrew III. (1290-1301), the last king of Hungary of the Árpád line,
was born in Venice, where he received his education and remained until
he attained the age of manhood. Hitherto he had lived entirely a
stranger to the events which had plunged the country with rapid strides
into the uttermost misery. There were many within the land, and among
the neighbors abroad, who did not look upon him as a genuine Hungarian
and who refused to acknowledge his right to the inheritance of the
Árpáds. During his brief reign he gave, nevertheless, ample proofs
of possessing abilities befitting an eminent ruler, and no blame can
attach to him for having been unable with his inadequate strength and
power to contend against the difficulties of that period. To put down
the little kings in the country, and to keep away from the borders
those foreign powers who, under the pretence of kinship and led by
unblushing avariciousness, announced their claims to the inheritance
at this early date, was a task to which Andrew III. was not equal. But
he struggled bravely and manfully against the difficulties that beset
his royal path. He opposed to the oligarchs the gentry, whose ancient
immunities he confirmed, and whom he attached to his person by granting
them new ones. Duke Albert of Austria, the son of Rudolph of Hapsburg,
who was the first to claim the throne, was driven from the country,
but the diplomacy of Andrew turned him subsequently from an enemy into
a friend and ally. He entered upon the contest with the Neapolitan
Anjous, who, being the descendants in the female line of the Árpáds,
were the most pressing and determined claimants to the throne. But
at the very outset of the struggle, when the shock of the collision
of hostile interests is generally most severe, and just as Andrew was
preparing to enter upon the campaign against Charles Robert of Naples,
death suddenly took him in 1301. The chronicles contain traces of a
suspicion that he died by poison administered by his Italian cook, who
had been hired for that foul purpose by the Neapolitan party, and that
thus, the doom of the house of Árpád was sealed by the wiles of an
assassin. The sun of the Árpáds set amidst dark and storm-portending
clouds, and the new dynasty of Anjou inherited the great task of
reconciling the oligarchs with the gentry, and both classes with the
crown, and thus of restoring the ancient power and splendor of the
Hungarian kingdom.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ANJOUS IN HUNGARY.
The male line of the house of Árpád became extinct by the death of
Andrew III. His only daughter, Elizabeth, retired to a convent, and
the nation was once more called upon to exercise its ancient right
of electing a king, and three candidates, a Czech, a German, and an
Italian, at once came into the field. Each of these claimants had a
party in the country, and not until the strength of the nation had been
wasted by internal strife and warfare during a period of eight years
did the Italian party succeed in placing on the throne Charles Robert,
who became the founder of the Hungarian Anjous. It will be our task now
to relate how the newly elected ruler, taking the reins of government
into his own hands, introduced into the country the glorious era of
chivalry. Under the reign of the Anjous we shall see the culture and
customs of Western Europe gradually taking root in Hungarian soil, the
name of Hungary becoming the object of respect and admiration abroad,
the boundaries of the kingdom extended by a powerful hand, the crown
of a brave and chivalrous neighbor, the Polish nation, placed upon the
brows of the Hungarian king, until, at last, as the Hungarian poet
Bajza sings, “the shores of three seas formed the frontier walls of the
kingdom.”
At first the Czech party was victorious. Wenceslaus, the aged king of
the Czechs, who, through the female line, was related to the house of
Árpád, not feeling equal to the task of governing Hungary himself,
offered to his party, in his place, his son and namesake, who was but
thirteen years old. On the 27th of August, 1301, at Stuhlweissenburg
the sacred crown of St. Stephen was placed on the head of young
Wenceslaus; but his reign was of short duration. The curse of the
Church of Rome was pronounced against his partisans, but the citizens
of Buda were little affected by this interdict, and caused the curse
to be hurled back on the anathematizers by their own prelates. Yet the
party of the boy-king grew so weak that his father deemed it advisable
to recall him home. Wenceslaus the elder entered Hungary, pillaged the
wealthier cathedrals, and expressed but one wish concerning his son—to
see him for once attired in the royal Hungarian robes. His adherents
complied with the wish of the old king, and, dressed in the royal
robes and bearing the crown on his head, young Wenceslaus proceeded
homeward, surrounded by his soldiers and under the protection of armed
body-guards.
The Italian party, intent upon avenging this affront, invaded the
territory of the Czechs, and by frightful massacres made the people
atone for the abduction of the king. The fierce Kuns, or Cumans,
throwing Czech children, strung together by means of holes bored
through the palms of their hands, across their saddlebows, wildly tore
through the land, devastating every thing. Very soon Albert, emperor of
Germany, with Otto the Bavarian, came to the rescue of Wenceslaus, who,
grateful for their assistance, delivered the crown to Otto.
[Illustration: CASTLE OF ÁRVA.]
The German party, in their turn, were now victorious, and obtained
possession of the crown of St. Stephen, the most sacred relic of the
nation. Otto marched into the country, but under the auspices of a bad
omen. The crown was, through some accident, lost on the road, although
his attendants discovered it afterwards, buried in the mire. Otto,
whose vanity prompted him to display, marched in a procession through
the capital, Buda, adorned with all the paraphernalia of royalty, and
from that day on, every king succeeding him has, after the coronation,
repeated this special pageant. Otto was as much the shadow of a king
as Wenceslaus had been before him. In order to consolidate his power
he asked in marriage the daughter of the most powerful Hungarian lord,
Ladislaus Apor, the _vayvode_ of Transylvania. Receiving a favorable
reply, he hastened, full of hope, to Transylvania, but on his arrival
was thrown into prison by the wily vayvode. After his liberation, which
took place soon afterward, he turned his back for ever upon Hungary,
and was satisfied with the empty title of King of Hungary. The crown,
however, remained in the possession of the vayvode.
The Italian party were now left masters of the field. The most
obstinate and uncontrollable oligarchs were by this time tired of the
disorders prevailing in the country, and all combined with a hearty
good-will to place Charles Robert, of Anjou, upon the throne of Árpád.
On the 27th of August, 1310, Charles Robert was crowned for the fourth
time, but in this instance with the sacred crown, which had been at
length obtained from Apor. Charles was now the lawful king (1309-1342),
and could, without interference, set about the task of restoring order
in the country, a work to which he proved fully equal.
The king had many difficulties in his way. The ruler _de facto_ and _de
jure_ could call but a small portion of the kingdom really his own.
The endless dividing up of the territory, which was characteristic of
Germany at the close of the last century, was to be found in miniature
also in Hungary. The disorders prevailing under the rule of the
last Árpád, and of the two kings succeeding him, had encouraged the
lawlessness of the marauding nobles. Every one appropriated as much
territory as he could, and exercised royal or princely authority in the
domains thus acquired by him. While so many had become the possessors
of large estates, the king was without any personal patrimony. These
little kings had to be reduced, one by one, to submission, and deprived
of the usurped lands. The most powerful of them was Matthias Csák of
Trencsén, and his subjection gave the greatest trouble, and consumed
the most time.
The power and territory of Matthias Csák extended from the Northwestern
Carpathians to the Theiss and Danube. The castle of Trencsén was the
seat of this petty king. From this fortified castle on the Vág, built
on a rocky eminence near the commercial road leading from Silesia to
Hungary, he was in the habit of sending his marauders to devastate the
neighboring country. He pounced like a bird of prey from his rocky nest
upon the unwary merchants who were passing with their ships below, and
the poor traders esteemed themselves fortunate if they got safely off
by leaving a portion of their wares in the freebooter’s hands. The
plunder thus got together enabled him to display royal pomp, and such
was the dazzling sumptuousness and luxury exhibited at his castle that,
compared to it, the king’s palace seemed to be but a poor hut. Csák had
his own palatine treasurer and other officers of high rank, and when he
went about he was attended by an escort of several thousand armed men.
It was only after a good deal of solicitation that Csák consented to
receive the Pope’s legate, Cardinal Gentilis, and even then the legate
had to meet Csák at the place specified by the latter, who wished this
church dignitary to understand that he should feel highly honored by
being permitted to shake his hand.
In the beginning, Csák seemed to submit to Charles, and, swearing
fealty to the king, he consented to be represented at the third
coronation. In order to win Csák’s friendship and support, Charles made
him the _Guardian of the Land_. But this new honor did not prevent him
from very soon becoming weary of his subordinate position, and when a
law had been passed ordering the restitution of the royal castles and
domains which had come into the possession of subjects or strangers,
his wish to be independent became even greater than before. An armed
contest soon ensued between the king and his powerful subject. It
was preceded, however, by a papal excommunication of Csák and his
adherents, extending even to the dead, but the impious rebel retorted
by laying waste the lands of the neighboring high prelates. Csák’s
power stood at that time at its height. He was the master of a domain
containing over thirty fortified castles, which, to this day, is called
by the people, after him, Matthias Land, and it was quite natural that
the king was reluctant to beard the lion in his own den. The king’s
troops first entered the territory of Szepes, hoping to find there the
weak point of the antagonist, but they were compelled to retreat before
the captains of Csák. The decisive battle took place in 1312, north of
the town of Kassa. The engagement was sharp and bloody, and terminated
in the defeat of Csák’s men. The ancestors of the Báthorys, Tökölyis,
Drugets, and Széchenyis, who were amongst the most powerful families
in Hungary, fought on this occasion by the side of the king. Although
humbled, Csák’s power was not greatly impaired, for we find him, a few
years later, strong and bold enough to attack John, king of Bohemia,
and take from him the fortified castle of Holics.
Charles Robert then turned his attention to his other rebellious
subjects, reducing them to submission, one by one, leaving Csák to be
dealt with by Providence. He had not, however, to wait very long, for
in 1321 this great lord died. The manner of his death is described
to have been frightful. Worms generated by his own body consumed him
slowly. There was no one after his death to inherit his vast estates
and with them his great power. Matthias Land was divided up in smaller
sections, and distributed amongst the king’s favorites. The subjects of
Csák, amongst them his palatine Felician Zách, submitted at once to the
king.
The king’s attention was too much engaged by this domestic warfare to
allow him, while it lasted, to display the energy which marked the
subsequent years of his reign, an energy which was destined to make
Hungary an influential power in Central Europe. During these days of
civil strife he had his seat in Temesvár, and his household was so
little befitting royalty that its poverty frequently elicited the
complaints of the higher clergy. But matters quietly changed when
Charles transferred his residence to Visegrád, the royal palace to
which cling so many fond and sad national memories, and which in our
days still, though in ruins, looms up on the right bank of the Danube
as a monument of Hungary’s ancient power and glory. Charles was full of
ambitious schemes to raise his family to the greatest possible power,
and the extension of the power of Hungary was deemed by him to be the
readiest means of accomplishing this aim. First of all he stood in need
of money and soldiers, but his genius enabled him to procure both. He
exploited the rich mines of the country, and raised the commerce and
industry of the realm to a flourishing condition, and the wealth of the
people increased to such an extent that he felt warranted in levying
direct taxes, a mode of taxation which had before been entirely unknown
in Hungary. The manner in which he created an army bears witness to his
ingenuity. The county system had become so loose and disorganized that
no soldiers could be expected from that source. He had to look for them
in another quarter. Charles knew, very well, the chivalrous disposition
of the nation, which, in the matter of display, had still preserved its
Oriental character; he knew, too, from history, that those who appealed
to the vanity of the Hungarian were never disappointed, and he laid his
plans accordingly. He transplanted into Hungary one of the graceful
institutions of Western Europe, that of chivalry. Knights there were
in the country, but they were not numerous and had not proved to be
enthusiastic adherents of the king. Charles understood how to win
the affections of the great lords; he distributed coats-of-arms and
founded orders. In the wide courts of the castle of Visegrád, knightly
tournaments became frequent, and the new knights, with their fresh
heraldic devices, had an opportunity of meeting each other in armed
combat in the presence of their foreign king. The king’s court came to
be the resort of noble youths, and boys of noble descent became the
playmates of the royal princes. In order to rouse the warlike spirit
of his great nobles, he allowed those of them who joined in a campaign
with a certain number of soldiers, to lead their men under banners
bearing their own armorial devices.
An event, however, of most tragic issue, which has furnished a
fruitful theme to Hungarian poets and artists, almost overthrew the
effect of the king’s wise policy and endangered his life. The scene
of the occurrence, which took place on the 17th of April, 1330, was
the magnificent palace of Visegrád. The former palatine of Csák,
Felician Zách, had become one of the king’s chief councillors, and he,
with his daughter Clara, one of the queen’s maids of honor, a lady
of extraordinary beauty, resided in the king’s palace. Casimir, the
King of Poland, and the queen’s brother, was at the time a guest at
Visegrád, and during his stay there, behaved improperly towards Clara
Zách. The infuriated father, on learning this, broke in upon the royal
family sitting in the dining-hall, and intent upon avenging the affront
offered to his daughter, threatened every one in his way. He fell with
sword drawn upon the royal children and their parents. The children
remained unhurt, but the king was seriously wounded, and the queen had
four of her fingers cut off. John Cselényi, the queen’s treasurer,
finally rushed to the rescue and felled the exasperated father with
his bronze pole-axe to the ground, and the alarmed servants, who had
meanwhile hastened to the hall, gave the miserable man, in presence
of the royal family, the _coup de grace_. A frightful and most cruel
punishment was inflicted, for her father’s bloody act, on the unhappy
Clara and all the members of the Zách family. The maiden’s ears, nose,
lips, and hands were cut off, and in this condition she was tied,
together with her brother, to a horse’s tail, and dragged through
the land until both died a miserable death. The Zách family were
exterminated to the third degree, and the remoter kinspeople doomed to
slavery. Such a sentence upon those who had committed no crime was a
most vindictive and savage one, and the people saw the avenging finger
of God in the results of the unhappy campaign of that year against the
Wallachians. One of the chronicles, referring to the disastrous issue
of the war, says: “The king had hitherto sailed under favorable signs,
and cut, according to his heart’s desire, through the stormy waves with
the ship of his fortune. But changeable fortune had now turned her
back upon him. His army had been defeated, and he himself is suffering
tortures from his gouty hands and feet.”
Ban Michael Bazarád, then the ruler of Wallachia, dared to ignore
his dependence on the crown of Hungary. Charles eagerly seized the
opportunity to punish the traitorous vassal, and hoped, at the same
time, that the indignation of the people against him for his cruelty
would subside at the news of a victorious campaign against the
Wallachians. Declining the offers of peace made by the repentant ban,
Charles boldly advanced, with his spirited knights, over the impassable
and unfamiliar roads of Wallachia. He had penetrated so far into the
land that his further advance was rendered impossible by the absence
of any road, and he was determined to retrace his steps. The Hungarian
army was led astray by the Wallachian guides, and in retreating found
itself quite unexpectedly hemmed in between steep and towering rocks
from which there was no outlet. A shower of stones descended on their
heads; the Wallachians who occupied the heights sent down dense volleys
of rocks and arrows upon the doomed Hungarians. Charles himself owed
his escape to the generous devotion of Desiderius Szécsi, one of his
men, with whom he changed dresses. This brave warrior sealed his
devotion with his life. The enraged Wallachians, mistaking him for the
king, attacked him from every side, and after valiantly resisting, he
finally fell on the battle-field. His sovereign escaped in safety, and
Wallachia maintained her independence.
Charles, upon his return home, once more busied himself with the
carrying out of his ambitious schemes for the aggrandizement of
his family, and the results of his efforts gave ample proof of his
political sagacity. He acquired for his family both Naples and Poland,
although as yet on paper only. Poland became only under his son Louis
the undoubted possession of the Hungarian king, while Naples never came
under his control. In 1335 Visegrád resounded incessantly with the din
of feasting and merrymaking; never before nor afterwards were so many
royal guests harbored within its stately walls. There were Casimir,
become King of Poland, the last descendant of the Piast family; John,
the adventurous King of the Czechs, who subsequently died the death of
a hero on the field of Crécy; his son Charles, the Margrave of Moravia,
and subsequently Emperor of Germany; three knights of the first class
belonging to the order of German Knights; the dukes of Saxony and
Liegnitz, and numerous church and lay magnates. The entertainment of
so many distinguished guests constituted a heavy draft on the royal
treasury. A contemporary chronicler states that “fifteen hundred loaves
of bread and one hundred and eighty flasks of wine were needed daily
for the court of the king of Poland.” Whilst the guests were feasting,
Charles employed all his ingenuity in shaping the destinies of Eastern
Europe. His negotiations with Casimir, the King of Poland, resulted in
an agreement that Poland should descend, after his death, to Louis,
the son of Charles. Two years later Charles had the satisfaction of
learning that the Polish nation had confirmed the private arrangement,
and had acknowledged the right of his son’s succession to the throne of
Poland. One of the finest monuments of Hungarian mediæval architecture,
the cathedral in Kassa, owed its completion to this welcome news.
Queen Elizabeth ordered it to be completed in her joy at the elevation
of her son Louis. Charles had also tried to secure Naples for his son
Andrew, by having him betrothed, at the age of six, to Joanna, the
grand-daughter and heir of the king of Naples. In July, 1333, the young
prince proceeded to Naples to take possession of his kingdom, as his
father thought, but in reality, as subsequent events proved, to the
place of his destruction. Charles died at a not very advanced age,
having brought most of his plans to a successful issue in his lifetime.
[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF GRAN.]
Six days after his death the crown of Hungary was placed upon the head
of his son Louis, afterwards surnamed the Great, who was then seventeen
years old (1342-1382). The young king immediately proceeded on a
pilgrimage to the tomb of St. Ladislaus, the most popular Hungarian
king, at Grosswardein. There at his grave he made a sacred vow to
govern the Hungarian nation after the example of his great predecessor.
From Grosswardein he proceeded to Transylvania to receive the oath of
fealty of the son of Michael Bazarád. Hardly returned to his palace at
Visegrád, the young king received depressing news regarding his brother
at Naples. The young Hungarian prince was looked upon with jealousy by
the numerous Italian dukes at the Neapolitan court, who tried by every
means to hinder his accession to the throne. His mother, the Hungarian
queen, at once hastened, laden with treasure, to Naples, to rescue
her son from the machinations of his enemies. The Hungarian money
had its due effect at the papal court, whose vassal Naples was at
that time. Queen Elizabeth obtained the assurance that her son Andrew
would be crowned, but she returned to Hungary before the ceremony
of coronation had taken place. At her departure her mind was filled
with evil forebodings, which were but too well justified by coming
events. The queen’s departure was the signal for fresh intrigues at the
Neapolitan court. Philip and Louis of Taranto, the sons of Catharine
of Valois, openly insulted the young prince. Joanna wickedly turned
from her husband and sided with his enemies. At length the day of the
coronation was approaching. Andrew, relying on the power he was soon to
wield, warned his enemies that he would avenge the affronts that had
been heaped upon him. His enemies were seized with terror upon seeing,
at the tournament which took place shortly before the coronation,
the axe and noose depicted beneath the arms of Andrew, floating on
high on his banner. The imminent danger rendered the intriguing dukes
desperate, and they at once determined to put Andrew out of the way.
His assassination was resolved upon, and, Joanna giving her assent to
the nefarious plan, the young prince was doomed.
On the 18th of September, 1345, the whole court, and amongst them
Joanna, proceeded to Aversa, to indulge in the merry pastime of the
chase. Andrew was accompanied by his faithful Hungarian nurse, Izolda,
who, poor creature, little dreamed that her ward was to be the object
of the chase. In the evening the whole company took up their quarters
at the convent of St. Peter. Andrew had just retired to his chamber
when a familiar voice called him into the adjoining room, in order to
discuss some grave questions. The unsuspecting youth, anticipating no
evil, left his chamber, but no sooner had he crossed the threshold when
the door was locked behind him by his secretary. The assassins lying
in wait fell upon their victim at once and strangled him; his cries
for help remaining unheeded. His dead body they then dragged to the
balcony and precipitated it into the garden below. Whilst this bloody
scene was enacted, Joanna slept soundly, undisturbed by the scuffle at
her door, and cries of distress of her husband. She afterwards gave the
explanation that she had been put under a spell by a witch.
There was mourning at the castle of Visegrád at the sad tidings.
Louis swore dire vengeance, and the nation enthusiastically took
up arms to support him. From abroad there arrived but voices of
sympathy. The Italian princes offered his armies free transit through
their territories; Louis, the excommunicated German Emperor, entered
into an alliance with the king; Edward III., the King of England,
while condoling with him, spurred him on to revenge; the Pope alone
maintained an ominous silence. This time, however, the desire for
revenge proved stronger with the king than his reverence for the
Pope, and in 1347 the Hungarian army was ready to march. To punish
a faithless woman and not to conquer Italy was the object of their
expedition, and the Italian princes were glad to afford the king’s army
every facility to reach the proposed goal.
All the great lords of the realm rallied round the king. A large
black flag was carried in front of the Hungarian army and on it was
depicted the pale face of Andrew. On two occasions they were led by
the king against Naples, and each time he was accompanied by the most
distinguished Hungarian families. Michael Kont, Andrew and Stephen
Laczfy, with Dionysius, the son of the latter, and a host of others,
brought with them their armed trains, by whose mighty blows both
Aversa, of mournful memory, and proud Naples were soon reduced. Queen
Joanna, with her second husband, Louis of Taranto, escaped beyond the
sea. Louis of Durazzo, one of the intriguing dukes who was suspected
of having been an accessory to the murder, expiated his crime by being
killed after a gay carouse and thrown down from the same balcony which
had witnessed the foul deed of the conspirators. Four other dukes were
carried to Hungary as prisoners. King Louis himself was always foremost
in battle and received grave wounds on more than one occasion. But
his chief desire—to punish Joanna—was not gratified and at length he
entrusted the Pope with the sentence to be pronounced against her. The
Pope, however, declared her innocent of the crime of murder, imputed
to her, but mulcted her in a fine of 300,000 ducats as a restitution
of the expenditures of the campaign. The chivalrous king spurned the
blood-money and left the punishment of guilty Joanna to a more upright
judge—to Providence. And Providence dealt more severely with the
queenly culprit than the successor to St. Peter’s see had done. Charles
of Durazzo, called also Charles the Little, son of Louis of Durazzo,
having conquered the throne of Naples, ordered Queen Joanna in 1382,
thirty-seven years after the commission of her crime, to be thrown into
prison, where she met her death by strangling.
During the Italian campaign Hungary was also called upon to meet
another enemy in the East. Roving populations were making constant
inroads on the eastern border, harassing the Hungarian inhabitants,
who had by this time become accustomed to the peaceful avocations
of the husbandman and tradesman. The victorious arms of King Louis
soon put an end to those lawless incursions. But one of the most
beautiful legends of Hungarian history is connected with one of the
campaigns against these marauding populations. Kieystut, the Prince of
Lithuania, after having been defeated several years before, broke into
Transylvania with an army considerably swelled by the accession of a
numerous body of Tartars. The king sent Louis Laczfy, the vayvode of
Transylvania, against him, and the brave Székely people followed in his
train. But the Hungarian army was small and the issue of the battle
remained for a long time doubtful. The legend tells that the news of
the peril threatening the Hungarian arms reached Grosswardein, where
St. Ladislaus lay buried, and that the heroic saint, leaving his grave,
bestrode the bronze horse of his own statue, which stood in the centre
of the public square, and hurried off to the relief of his distressed
countrymen. The Tartars were struck with the apparition of a warrior
“who towered over them head and shoulders,” and above whom was visible
the holy Virgin Mary, the patroness of Hungary. The pagans were seized
with terror at this sight, and the battle ended in a brilliant victory
for the Hungarians.
The arms of the king were no less successful in Servia where he was
about “to kindle the light of faith.” But the most glorious of his wars
was the one carried on against proud Venice, which continued during the
greater portion of his reign. Her enemies, especially Genoa, willingly
sided with the king of Hungary, and the ultimate result was the utter
humiliation of the city of St. Mark. At last, in 1381, one year before
the king’s death, peace was concluded between the two belligerents,
a peace of which the Hungarians had every reason to be proud, for by
its terms Dalmatia was unconditionally annexed to Hungary, and Venice
herself had to send the Hungarian king, annually on St. Stephen’s Day,
the 20th of August, a tribute of 7,000 ducats. As an indication of the
high esteem in which the name of Hungary was held at that time, it is
interesting to learn that foreign rulers sent their children to the
Hungarian court to be educated, and the inference is not a strained
one that the court of Louis must have been a centre of the European
culture and refinement of that day. The spouse selected by the king,
Elizabeth, the daughter of Stephen, the Prince of Bosnia, had herself
been sent to the court to be trained in courtly accomplishments. At
the Hungarian court also, Charles IV., the Emperor of Germany, wooed
Anna, the Duchess of Schweidnitz, his future empress. These two rulers
were united by ties of close friendship, until the discontent of the
Germans with “the stepfather of their country,” as they called Charles
IV., ripened a scheme to transfer the German crown to the Hungarian
king. Although King Louis refused to accept the crown proffered to him,
the sting remained, and his imperial friend became his deadly enemy.
The emperor persisted in indulging in his unfounded suspicions of the
king’s good faith, and so far forgot himself as to speak insultingly
of the king and his exalted mother. The Hungarian ambassadors at
the emperor’s court, incensed at the affront done to their master,
challenged the emperor to mortal combat. But he cravenly declined
to accept the challenge, whereupon they declared war in the name of
their king. Louis, who almost worshipped his mother, approved of the
proceedings of his ambassadors, and sent the emperor an insulting
letter, in which he declared that nothing better might be expected from
a drunkard. Very soon a large army of Kuns devastated Moravia, until,
at length, after a warfare of several years, the humiliated emperor
begged for peace, obtaining the Pope’s intercession in his behalf.
Peace was at last concluded, and matrimonial alliances were to make it
doubly sure. Sigismund, the emperor’s son, was betrothed to Mary, the
king’s daughter.
In the latter half of the fourteenth century Christianity in Europe was
threatened by a new foe. The warlike followers of Osman had, by the
capture of Adrianople firmly laid the foundations of their powerful
empire in Europe. Youths, forcibly taken at a tender age from their
Christian parents, and educated afterwards in implicit obedience to
the behests of the Sultan, were rigorously trained as soldiers after
the most approved fashion of the day, and the troops thus obtained
were destined to become the most formidable aid in the building of the
Ottoman power in Europe. The Eastern empire had sunk too low, at that
time, to be able, single-handed, to resist such a power, and she lost
her strongholds, one after the other. In this strait her ruler resorted
to one of those deceitful devices characterizing the policy of the
Eastern court. John Palæologos, the Eastern emperor, proceeded to the
court of the king of Hungary, at Buda, and, promising to give in his
adhesion to the Western Church, he asked the aid of Louis against the
savage enemy. The “Banner-bearer of the Church,” as the king of Hungary
was styled by the Pope, deemed it his duty, under these circumstances,
to come to the rescue of the distressed emperor, and shortly afterwards
the two kindred nations, the Turks and the Hungarians, met in hostile
array on the banks of the Maritza. This was the first warlike contest
of the two nations. It resulted in the victory of 20,000 Hungarians
over a Turkish army four times as large, a victory commemorated to this
day by the treasures and appropriate inscriptions still to be seen at
the church of Mariazell in Styria.
Casimir, the last Polish king of the house of Piast, died on the 5th of
November, 1370. His death was caused by an injury contracted in falling
from his horse during the chase.
On the 17th of the same month Louis was crowned King of Poland, at
Cracow, by the Archbishop of Gnesen. At the very moment when he was
about to reach the goal of the highest ambition of his predecessor,
and of himself, Louis seemed to waver, and to doubt the expediency
of accepting the crown. He could not help reflecting that governing
two nations, which were united by no other tie except his own person,
and defending them against their enemies, might prove a task to which
one king was not equal. He nevertheless accepted the crown, but his
sinister presentiments were fated speedily to be confirmed. The Polish
lords were not used to an energetic rule. The nobles of Little and
Great Poland were eager, each for themselves, to secure the offices of
state, but both equally hated the queen-mother sent there to rule. The
country soon fell a prey to internal dissensions and strife, compelling
the queen to fly from the land, in which a new pretender had appeared.
This pretender to the throne was a kinsman of the late king of Poland,
and had retired to a convent in France in the lifetime of Casimir. His
ambition made him exchange the cassock for armor, and a large portion
of the people of Poland very soon acknowledged him to be their king.
But his royalty was of short duration; the army of the adventurer was
scattered by the adherents of King Louis.
The Lithuanians, whom we have before mentioned as being driven back
by Andrew Laczfy, now took advantage of the disorders prevailing in
Poland, and succeeded in securing such a foothold in that country
that one of their dukes, Jagello, who was converted to Christianity,
and subsequently married Hedvig, the daughter of King Louis, became
in the course of a few years the founder of a new Polish dynasty, the
Jagellons, a dynasty of mournful memory in the history of Hungary.
[Illustration: CASTLE OF BETZKÓ.]
The last days of Louis were embittered by the disorders in Poland.
He who had succeeded everywhere else failed there. Disappointment
shortened his life; upon returning to Tyrnau on the 11th of September,
1382, from attending the Polish diet convened in Hungary, he was
taken ill, and breathed there his last. The Hungarian nation lost in
him one of their greatest kings. His reign was stormy but glorious.
The Hungarian banner floated always victoriously on his numerous
battlefields, and he humbled the enemies of the nation. In spite
of his many wars, Louis found leisure to devote his time to the
cultivation of the arts of peace. He gave laws to his country, which
secured her permanence, and remained in force up to the most recent
ages. He brought order into the affairs of the Church, and into the
administration of justice. He was a zealous patron of learning, and
established a university at Fünfkirchen (Pécs). His court, the seat of
which he fixed at Buda, was brilliant; the Western customs, brought
over from Italy, prevailing there. In times of peace magnificent
tilts and tournaments at home took the place of the bloody game of
war abroad, and the distribution of arms and knightly distinctions
introduced by his father continued during his reign on even a larger
scale. On all occasions Louis showed himself to be a brave, wise,
and pious king, whose long rule is described by an eminent Hungarian
historian as proving “a continued blessing” for his nation.
Dark days succeeded the glorious reign of Louis. The Hungarian
nation was eager to testify their gratitude to their great king
by a concession made to his dynasty—notwithstanding its foreign
origin,—which they had refused to make to the glorious dynasty of
the native Árpád family. After the king’s death his daughter Mary
was proclaimed queen and the crown conferred upon her. But the crown
brought little joy to Mary, for the festivities of the coronation
were hardly finished when she was menaced by dangers coming from two
sides. The Poles hated Sigismund, to whom Mary was affianced, and
insisted also that their ruler should live amongst them. Elizabeth,
the queen-mother, in order to conciliate the opposition of the Poles,
and not to risk the loss of Poland, offered them, as a substitute for
Mary, her younger daughter Hedvig. The Poles agreed to this compromise,
upon the condition that they should select a husband for Hedvig, their
queen. It was a great trial for Hedvig to part from William, Duke of
Austria, to whom she was betrothed, but her choice lay between him
and the crown of Poland. The allurements of the latter prevailed,
and in February, 1386, the Polish nation celebrated the nuptials of
their queen with the Lithuanian duke, Jagello, recently converted to
Christianity, whom they had chosen for her husband. This marriage put
an end to the union of the two countries, and Poland had once more a
ruler of her own.
There was greater danger threatening Hungary from the south. The
nobles of Croatia were dissatisfied with female rule. There were some
ambitious men who were incensed to see themselves excluded from the
royal court, whilst a man of low descent, like Garay, the palatine,
took the lead there. They were intent upon destroying the government in
order to remove the queen. In Charles of Durazzo, who owed the throne
of Naples to Louis the Great, they found a man who was willing to
become a candidate for the throne of Hungary. The traitors, however,
on the appearance in their midst of the energetic Garay, accompanied
by the queen and the queen-mother Elizabeth, kept quiet for a while.
But no sooner had the royal party left Croatia, when these men, who
all owed their honors to the favor of the late king, resumed their
machinations, and prevailed upon Charles of Durazzo to perjure himself
and to break the oath he had pledged to the late king not to disturb
his daughter Mary in the possession of her throne. In 1385, undeterred
by the warnings of his wife, he arrived in Croatia.
Meanwhile the marriage of Mary and Sigismund had taken place. The
latter, in order to collect an army with which he should be enabled to
oppose the advancing enemy and defend the rights of his royal spouse,
hypothecated a portion of the country to raise the necessary funds.
This ill-timed transaction increased the chances of his opponent, for
the nation saw with indignation that Sigismund, in the capacity of
“the guardian of the realm” only, without possessing any royal rights,
began his guardianship by thus disposing of Hungarian territory. Such
a disgraceful transaction was unknown in the history of the country,
and it was not long before Charles could enter Buda, without let or
hindrance; disguising, however, even then, his lawless aspirations, by
pretending to have only come to make peace between the nation and her
queen. But Charles was not long in showing his true designs. On the
31st of December, 1385, the cathedral of Stuhlweissenburg witnessed
a most moving scene. The coronation of the usurper Charles was to
be solemnized; the church was crowded, to its remotest corner, with
sumptuously dressed lords. The widowed queen and her daughter Mary were
also in attendance. The customary question was asked of the magnates
of the land, by the Primate of Hungary, whether they wished Charles
to be their king. The enthusiastic acclamations of assent became, at
the Primate’s third appeal, feebler and feebler as the piteous sobs of
the two queens, who had sunk upon their father’s and husband’s grave,
resounded in the church. The coronation proceeded nevertheless, and
whilst the archbishop sent up his prayers of grace to heaven, the
widowed queen was silently vowing desperate vengeance at the grave
of her husband. Bad omens followed the pageant; during the solemn
procession the banner of St. Stephen split into pieces, and as the new
king entered the gates of his palace at Buda, its walls were shaken
to its very foundations by a tremendous thunder-storm. Charles had
occupied the throne thirty-nine days only, when he was summoned by the
widowed queen, residing under one roof with him, into her presence
to settle some grave matters of state. The king obeyed the summons,
and was humbly received by Garay the palatine, Blasius Forgách the
lord cup-bearer, Thomas Szent-Györgyi, the ban of Croatia, and the
other lords present. The council had hardly commenced when, at a hint
from the palatine, Forgách got behind the king and struck him on the
head with his pole-axe. The blow inflicted a mortal wound and the
king fainted away. The assassins had made careful preparations for
the bloody event. Whilst Forgách was doing away with the king in the
council-chamber, his Italian soldiers, in the palace, were disarmed by
Garay’s men. Charles was taken to Visegrád, where he was thrown into
prison and afterwards strangled.
The news of the king’s assassination stirred up fresh discontents
in Croatia, where his party had been most numerous. Garay imagined
he could quell the rebellion again by appearing amongst them. The
two queens approved of his scheme, and proceeded, in his company, to
Croatia. This time, however, their going to Croatia was to prove fatal
to them. The queens, travelling with a small escort, were surprised by
John Horváthy, one of the rebels, near Diákovár, and a mortal struggle
ensued between the rebels and the queen’s escort. Garay and Forgách
fought with exasperation in defence of the queens. Garay, pierced by
arrows, set his back against the coach, valiantly selling his life,
and not allowing the enemy to approach his royal charges except
across his dead body. All this heroism was wasted in the face of the
overpowering number of the rebels, and the dreadful spectacle was soon
presented to the queens of having the heads of their faithful defenders
cut off before their very eyes. The queens themselves were placed in
confinement at Novigrad, on the sea-shore. The long series of deaths by
violence, which appeared to persecute the Anjou race like a curse, was
destined to have one more added to it at Novigrad. The widow of Louis
the Great was, after a short imprisonment, strangled by one of the
rebels before the eyes of her unfortunate daughter.
The disorders had now reached their climax; one of the crowned rulers
of Hungary, Charles, had been assassinated, the other, Mary, was a
prisoner at Diákovár. The rebels were preparing to bring the son of
the usurper Charles into the country, while another party had cast
their eyes upon Ladislaus Jagello, the husband of Hedvig, as an
available aspirant to royal honors. The Prince of Servia was arming
to attack Hungary from the south, and Poland was preparing to invade
the country from the northeast, whilst the princes of Wallachia and
Moldavia, vassals of Hungary, declared their independence. So many
disasters demanded a prompt remedy, and the nation, in their distress,
decided to accept as their ruler Sigismund, the queen’s husband. He
was acknowledged as king, and the crown of St. Stephen was placed
on his head by Benedek, the bishop of Veszprém, in March, 1387, and
his reign lasted until 1437. To these melancholy circumstances did
Sigismund, of the house of Luxemburg, owe his elevation to the throne
of Hungary. It was a heavy burden that he had taken upon his shoulders,
the task of bringing order into the affairs of the distracted country.
His first and foremost duty was to liberate his august wife from her
imprisonment, but it must be reluctantly admitted that he exhibited
little zeal in the accomplishment of this. While he was travelling
leisurely from place to place without seemingly heeding the danger of
delay, Venice came to the rescue. The statesmen of the city of St.
Mark had watched with jealousy the union of Naples and Hungary in the
hands of one ruler, and to obviate this danger to their own city, they
sought the friendship of Sigismund, and sent vessels of war against
his rebellious subjects. John Palisna, in whose charge the imprisoned
queen had been placed, readily delivered her up to John Barbadico,
the captain of the republic, stipulating only for himself the right
of leaving without molestation. In July, 1388, husband and wife met
near Agram (Zágráb), and Sigismund made up for his former laxity by
sumptuously rewarding the Venetians who had liberated his queen.
The newly elected king had on the very threshold of his reign a
twofold difficulty to face. He had to quell the rebellion, which in
the southern part of his dominions was still active, and to arrest the
encroachments of the Turkish power. He succeeded in putting down the
rebellion. He marched into Croatia and Bosnia, pursuing the rebels to
their mountain fastnesses, and after many years of varying fortunes
of war he reduced them to obedience. The survivors of the scattered
rebels sought refuge in the wild forests of Syrmia. A small band of
thirty men rallied round Stephen Kont of Hédervár, the son of the
famous palatine Michael, a man noted for his bravery. Sigismund charged
Vajdafy, one of his trusty men, with the reduction of this band. He
found it, however, impossible to get near them, and finally resorted
to a stratagem. Vajdafy promised them a free pardon from Sigismund if
they surrendered and came up to Buda with him. The thirty-one warriors
accepted this proposal, but on their way the treacherous Vajdafy
ordered them to be placed in chains. They were so incensed at this
disgraceful treatment, that they determined not to do homage to the
king when brought into his presence. They refused to bend their knees
before him. The king did not reflect long, but ordered the thirty-one
gallants to be taken to St. George’s Place in Buda, where they met
their death at the hands of the executioner. Kont was the last to lay
his head on the block. His faithful page Csóka burst into tears at the
bloody sight. Sigismund comforted the youth, telling him he would be a
better master to him than Kont was. “I shall never serve thee, Czech
hog,” was the boy’s reply, a reply which cost him his life, for he was
immediately executed. This barbarous and illegal act of the king would
no doubt have provoked, in ordinary times, a rebellion in the country,
but the general attention was just then absorbed by the encroachments
of the Turks.
Servia had already become a vassal state of the Turks, and was
compelled to swell with her army the power of the mightiest foe to
Christianity. The last victory won by the Servians over the Turks was
in 1387, when they mowed down two thirds of the Turkish army, numbering
20,000 men. Sultan Murad invaded Servia in 1389 to avenge the disgrace
of defeat. He was met in June by Lazarus, the last independent Prince
of Servia, on the Kosovo (blackbird) field, called in Hungarian the
Rigómezö. The engagement was a bloody one, and disastrous to the
rulers on both sides. Sultan Murad received his death wound from the
dagger of a Servian soldier, whilst Prince Lazarus was delivered by
his own son-in-law, Vuk Brankovitch, into the hands of the Turks and
into the jaws of certain death. With Lazarus was lost the independence
of Servia, and his scattered army fled in dismay from the ill-fated
battle-field. This victory had brought the Turks one step nearer to the
borders of Hungary, and added further to the fear of their victorious
arms in that Bajazet, the successor of Murad, surnamed the “Lightning,”
was known to be eager for new conquests. Two years after the battle of
Kosovo we find the Turks already on Hungarian soil. Sigismund tried, at
first, negotiations. Viddin, Nicopolis, and Silistria, which belonged
to Hungary under Louis the Great, had recently fallen into the hands
of the Turks. Sigismund sent an embassy to Bajazet calling upon him to
surrender these cities to their rightful owner. The sultan received the
embassy at Brussa, and, conducting them into a hall ornamented with
arms and weapons of every description, he pointed at these, saying: “Go
back and tell your king that, as you see for yourself, I have a good
enough title to these lands.” Sigismund rightly understood this to be a
declaration of war. He at once summoned the chivalry of Europe to take
part in a crusade against the infidels, and entered into an alliance
with Manuel II., the Emperor of the East. Many knights from England,
France, and Italy responded to the call.
Meanwhile, Mary, the wife of Sigismund, died in 1395. It was to her
that Sigismund owed his throne, and now that she was no more, there was
nothing to keep up the ties of affection between the people and their
restless and inconstant king. Sigismund hoped to dazzle the nation
by the glory of a successful war. In 1396 he marched the assembled
crusaders to Nicopolis against the Turks. The king, surrounded by the
chief captains of the army, was merrily feasting when the news was
brought that Bajazet, the “Lightning,” was approaching. Both armies
were eager for the contest. The French knights, in spite of Sigismund’s
protests, claimed the privilege of the first attack. Ignorant of the
Turkish system of fighting, which consisted in sending the weakest and
least-disciplined troops to the fore, to bear the brunt of the first
attack, the French rushed with their united strength upon the enemy.
The attack, as usual, was favorable to the French arms, but hardly had
they dispersed the inferior troops when they found themselves face
to face with the serried ranks of the Spahis and Janissaries. The
hot-blooded Frenchmen were no match for these incomparable soldiers,
and a large portion of them fell on the battle-field while the
remainder were taken prisoners. This discomfiture had a depressing
effect on the other crusaders, and their army scattered in disorderly
flight. Sigismund, himself, escaped only with great difficulty, and
took refuge on a ship on the Danube which brought him to Constantinople.
This unlucky campaign proved a fresh source of trouble to the country,
for the king, keenly feeling the disgrace of his defeat, stayed away
from Hungary for over half a year. The southern part of Hungary
was again in rebellion and many, believing in the false report of
the king’s death, were desirous of proceeding to the election of a
successor. The king, apprehensive of losing his throne, came back and,
in his own fashion, rewarded his friends and punished his opponents.
In order to add to the number of his adherents he distributed amongst
them, in defiance of an ancient law, the crown-lands. He filled the
highest positions in the state with foreigners. This was more than
the Hungarian lords would submit to, especially after the disgraceful
defeat the king had just suffered on the battle-field. The impatient
magnates, weary of his inglorious rule, entered upon a conspiracy to
overthrow the king. On the 28th of April, 1401, a number of the great
lords of the land assembled at Buda and requested the attendance of
the king, in order to take counsel on affairs of state. The Garays,
the unflinching adherents of the king, knew what was going to happen,
but did not dare to divulge or oppose the plans of the conspirators.
Sigismund appeared among the assembled magnates, but only to find
out, too late, that he was, in fact, their prisoner. He was taken
to Visegrád and confined in its castle. Another king had now to be
elected. Three claimants were on the field—Ladislaus Jagello, William
of Austria, and Ladislaus, the son of Charles the Little. It was
fortunate, however, for the king that no election could be agreed upon;
and, while the magnates were taking counsel with each other, the Garays
succeeded in liberating the king and took him to Siklós, one of their
own fortified castles. His followers, meanwhile, took up arms in his
cause and succeeded in placing him again on the throne, after he had
been a prisoner for four months. But before doing so they obtained
his promise not to punish or molest the conspirators. Michael Garay
was generously rewarded for his exertions on behalf of Sigismund; he
received annually a pension of one thousand ducats, and was appointed
to the dignity of a palatine. The severe lesson was of benefit to the
king. He appeared totally changed after his experience in prison.
He faithfully kept the promise he had given, and did not molest the
rebellious lords, but rather sought their friendship, and, making
union with them, seriously endeavored by legal means to improve the
government of the country.
He had hardly seized the reins of government with firm hands, when the
cry of battle called him again away. Having no son, Sigismund tried
to secure the throne for his daughter Elizabeth. She was affianced to
Albert of Austria, and the king prevailed upon one hundred and ten
lords to sign a document by which his daughter’s husband would, after
the king’s demise, become entitled to wear the crown of St. Stephen.
The Neapolitan party was roused into rebellion by this arrangement,
and Ladislaus of Naples penetrated into the interior of the country.
The primate of the realm, the archbishop of Gran, sided with the
rebels and placed the crown of Hungary upon the head of the invading
foreigner. Sigismund, who was just then amongst the Czechs, whose
crown he coveted, hastened home upon learning the peril with which
he was menaced. The followers of Ladislaus were soon put down, and,
being assured of the king’s pardon, they all gave in their submission.
Ladislaus, fearful lest the fate of his father, Charles the Little,
should overtake him, left the country, and henceforth dared not to
question the right of Sigismund to the crown. In the course of the
years that followed some wise measures were introduced concerning the
privileges and franchises of the cities, and regulating the relations
of the Church of Hungary to the Vatican. The Pope having been the most
zealous partisan of Ladislaus of Naples, a law was enacted putting an
end to the Pope’s right of interference in the affairs of the Hungarian
Church.
The king formed again new marriage ties, and took Barbara, the daughter
of Count Arminius Cilley, the powerful lord of the Styrian castle of
Cilli, for his wife. The new queen added but little to his happiness.
The king established the order of the dragon in commemoration of his
wedding. The insignia of the order were a red cross with a gold dragon
who twisted his tail in a circular shape around his own neck. The
membership was confined to twenty-four, who bound themselves to defend
the Christian faith against the Turks. The king and queen were the
first members of the order, the remaining members were selected from
among the highest dignitaries of the land. A high distinction fell
to the lot of the king of Hungary on the 20th of September, 1410.
Ruprecht, who had been elevated to the imperial throne of Germany,
after the deposition of Wenceslaus the drunkard (the half insane
brother of Sigismund), was now dead. Wenceslaus was now striving
to regain the lost dignity, but in this he was opposed by his own
brother Sigismund. The electoral princes voted for the latter. This
was the first time that a similar distinction had been conferred upon
the wearer of the crown of St. Stephen. The nation felt proud of the
exaltation of their king, but the nation as well as the king found
subsequently ample reason to regret their premature rejoicing. Indeed
the fears of St. Ladislaus and Louis the Great, who had declined the
imperial crown lest they might, accepting it, be caused to neglect the
affairs of Hungary, proved but too well founded. The business of the
emperor required his presence elsewhere, and while he was absent for
years from the country, matters at home visibly went to rack and ruin.
The emperor-king could not spare time to attend to the most important
duty of his reign, the driving back of the Turks, and, there can be no
doubt, that it was owing less to the civil wars of that period than
the lukewarmness of Sigismund in the face of the Ottoman advances
during the last years of his reign, that it became possible for the
Moslem power to obtain possession, a century later, of the stronghold
of Christianity. The signs of the coming life-and-death struggle
became already apparent—and once the struggle begun there was no way
to destroy the Ottoman power, nor could a favorable opportunity, once
missed, return again.
The fortunes of war were once more propitious to the Hungarians—in
their war against Venice—but for several years afterwards history
records nothing but a long series of uninterrupted disasters. The
war with Venice was carried on to get possession of the littoral
islands and cities. Venice was shamefully beaten, and the peace-suing
ambassadors of the proud city of St. Mark had to undergo the
humiliation of seeing before their very eyes nineteen of their flags
torn to pieces in the streets of Buda. But the new banners of Venice
were soon destined to be victoriously planted on the Hungarian littoral
territory, and Sigismund was compelled to sign a peace by which the
nation lost her seacoast possessions. And while the power of Venice
was curtailing the country in the south, the richest towns in the
north were being lost through the recklessness of Sigismund. In order
to extricate himself from financial embarrassments he hypothecated
to Ladislaus, the king of Poland, thirteen of the wealthiest cities
of the Szepes country, which was largely settled by German merchants
and tradesmen. These places remained hypothecated until the first
partition of Poland, 1772, when Hungary was reinstated in the full
possession of the mortgaged towns. After arranging these affairs the
king went abroad, where he remained for six years. During his absence
the country, owing to the despotic rule of Barbara, his queen, became a
prey to disorder. It would cover pages unprofitably to give a detailed
account of the private affairs of the wanton queen, and, passing over
these, we shall accompany her royal husband on his journey to the
Council of Constance.
The condition of the Church of Rome was at that period a most
lamentable one. The question of reforms within the Church became from
day to day more pressing. Wycliffe, the Englishman, had the boldness to
assume the rôle of a heretic. John Huss, the rector of the university
of Prague, soon became a zealous propagator of his teachings. The
majority of the inhabitants of Bohemia embraced the new tenets,
assuming, after their leader, the name of “Hussites.” One of the chief
objects of the Council of Constance—1414-1418—was to extirpate heresy,
and to exterminate its votaries. Numerous ecclesiastical and lay lords
gathered at Constance to advise together under the guidance of the
emperor-king, who presided. The attending Hungarian magnates deemed
it due to their fame and dignity to indulge in the most extravagant
luxury. The emperor-king felt constrained to eclipse his subjects in
sumptuous display on such an occasion, and, in order to accomplish
this, he had to sell Brandenburg to Frederick of Hohenzollern, and
there can be no doubt that through this sale he unwittingly contributed
to the future greatness of the present imperial dynasty in Germany. We
will not attempt to describe here the Council of Constance, but need
only mention that it was the treachery and bad faith of Sigismund which
caused the tragic end and martyrdom of John Huss. His disciples vowed
vengeance, and Hungary, of all the dominions of the emperor-king, was,
during many years, most exposed to their cruel devastations.
After an absence of six years, during which Sigismund had visited
Germany, France, Italy, and England, he at length returned to Hungary.
He found the country unsettled, and menaced on two sides by powerful
enemies. Having sent his wife, the cause of the internal disorders,
to prison, he led an army against the Turks, who were threatening the
southern portion of the country. Before describing the events of that
campaign let us cast a rapid glance at the condition of the Moslem
world in Europe. A dreadful blow had fallen on the Ottoman empire in
July, 1402. Timur, the Central-Asian conqueror, destroyed the Turkish
army near Angora, and captured the person of the redoubtable Bajazet
himself. The impaired power of the Ottoman empire was still more
weakened by the internecine strife between Bajazet’s sons. Mohammed I.
emerged at last as the victorious sultan, and in his person the warlike
qualities of his ancestors reappeared once more on the throne of the
Osmanlis. The rulers of Servia and Moldavia very soon acknowledged his
sovereignty. Hervoja, the Bosnian _boyar_, followed their example. The
three captains of Sigismund, John Maróty, John Garay, and Paul Csupor,
marched against the latter. The engagement resulted in the victory of
Hervoja. Csupor was taken prisoner, while his fellow-captains sought
safety in an ignominious flight. Csupor, years ago, had scoffingly
greeted Hervoja, when at the Hungarian court, by bellowing like an ox,
and the victor, now remembering the affront put upon him, revenged
himself by having the ill-fated captain sewn into an ox’s skin, and
telling him: “Now thou canst bellow as much as thou likest; thou hast
also the shape of an ox.” He caused him to be thrown into the water,
where he was drowned.
Meanwhile Stephen Lazarevitch, the Prince of Servia, became weary
of the Turkish alliance, and with a view to securing to his nephew,
George Brankovitch, the succession in Servia, he sought the aid of
Sigismund, offering to surrender to him several important fortified
places along the Danube for his services. The Prince of Servia died in
1428, and Sigismund claimed the possession of the places promised to
him. The Servian commander of Galambócz, one of the strongest of these
fortresses, however, treacherously allowed it to pass into the hands
of the Turks. It was to re-possess himself of this fortress, which he
could not permit to remain in Moslem hands, that Sigismund marched
against the enemy. He had nearly succeeded in capturing it, when news
reached him that Sultan Murad II. was approaching. Sigismund did not
dare to engage in battle with such overpowering numbers, and having
stipulated for himself and his army free passage, he pusillanimously
gave up the siege. Yet the Hungarians were just beginning to cross
the Danube, when the Turks, breaking faith, attacked them. Sigismund
himself was in great danger, and he owed his escape only to the heroism
of Cecilia Rozgonyi, the wife of the captain-in-chief, who facilitated
his flight in a galley steered by herself. This was Sigismund’s last
armed encounter with the Turks, and its issue did by no means add to
his laurels.
The remaining years of Sigismund’s reign were taken up with the
organization of the defences of the country and with continual warfare
against the Czech Hussites in the north. Wenceslaus, the king of
Bohemia, died in 1419, and Sigismund endeavored to obtain his brother’s
crown. The Czechs hated the executioner of their beloved spiritual
teacher, and conceded to Sigismund the Bohemian crown only after a hard
and protracted struggle. Hungary had to suffer for the ambition of her
king, for, during these struggles, the exasperated Czechs, on more than
one occasion, laid waste her territories in the north-west. Sigismund,
however, did not allow himself to be deterred from pursuing his aim.
Acting upon the principle of _divide et regna_, he very sensibly
conciliated a portion of the Czechs by granting them religious reforms,
and whilst the people were desperately fighting among themselves he
succeeded in securing the crown of Bohemia.
Sigismund may be said to have reached the goal of all his wishes.
He united on his head the crowns of imperial Germany, Hungary, and
Bohemia. Yet, on the whole, he was not a happy man. His wife Barbara
had regained her freedom and was embittering the last days of the
sickly monarch. This ambitious woman coveted the crown of Hungary,
and in order to obtain it she was scheming, first of all, to hinder
the succession of Albert, the son-in-law of the emperor-king. With
this view she entered into negotiations with Ladislaus III., the
king of Poland, the purport of which was that he should marry her
after Sigismund’s demise, and thus unite the dominions of the king of
Hungary with Poland. The arrangement was nearly concluded when these
intrigues were discovered by Sigismund. He deprived his wife once
more of her liberty, and hastened from Bohemia to Hungary to prevail
upon the Estates to accept Albert’s succession, and then to turn his
steps towards Transylvania to put down the rebellion that had broken
out there. The peasantry of Transylvania, having a leaning towards
the teachings of Huss, were exposed to constant persecutions. They
were also oppressed by burdensome taxes, and finally, goaded on by
their unhappy condition, they rose in arms against their tyrants.
The massacred nobility and burning villages bore witness to the
exasperation of the peasantry. Fate prevented Sigismund from either
meeting the estates or quelling the Transylvanian rising. He was
overtaken by death at Znaym, in Moravia, in December, 1437. His dead
body and the captive queen arrived in Hungary one week later. His
remains were conveyed from Presburg to Grosswardein to be placed there
by the side of his first wife, Mary, and at the feet of St. Ladislaus.
It is rather saddening to reflect that, after a reign of fifty years,
his funeral procession should have been lighted by the glare from the
burning villages of Transylvania, set on fire by her own peasantry.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER IX.
JOHN HUNYADI (HUNIADES), THE GREAT CHAMPION OF CHRISTIANITY.
1456.
Very little, if any thing, is known of the father of John Hunyadi, or
of the pedigree of his family; indeed, the very circumstances of his
birth are shrouded in dim legendary light, and yet he looms up all at
once in the proud position of governor of Hungary, the adored idol of
his country, and the admiration of all Christian Europe. It was owing
to his exertions that his family became great, rich, and powerful, but,
at the same time, he guarded Hungary against the evils of domestic war,
and saved her from Moslem rule. He served his country in the capacity
of a brave soldier, an eminent general, and a cautious and energetic
statesman, lending her the aid of his strong arm, his undaunted
courage, and his clear understanding.
[Illustration: HUNYAD CASTLE.]
In his time, during the fifteenth century, through all Europe, and
especially in Hungary, that man was most respected who had earned
the repute of a distinguished soldier. If any one wished to become
conspicuous amongst his countrymen he had to be, first of all, an able
general and a military hero. According to the views of that day,
only he was looked upon as a true man who was a free man, or, in the
nomenclature of that period, a noble man, but every noble was a born
soldier, and soldiering was both his duty and privilege. Martial merit
was recognized as the only real merit, and military service as the
only honorable occupation. By this means every man had the chance of
becoming the possessor of land, and of acquiring nobility, for bravery
was rewarded by the king with a grant of lands, and with the rank of a
noble. As a consequence wars were longed for by many. The common man
(or as he was then styled, the bondman) hoped to acquire land and to be
created a noble, the noble to add to his landed estate, and to rise in
rank. The more land a noble owned, and the greater the number of his
bondmen, the larger the number of the soldiers he was able to equip,
and the greater the military power wielded by him, the better his
prospects of promotion to a higher position in the state, in society,
and about the person of his king. The first games of childhood were
martial games, and the first tasks of youth were military tasks.
Such, no doubt, had also been the early training of John Hunyadi; by
such means he rose, acquired a large fortune, and was able to support a
great army. In truth, however, there is no information whatever extant
as to his early education, for when he first entered upon the stage of
war, in 1437, he was already an accomplished general. In this year the
Turkish sultan, who was constantly attacking, harassing, and laying
waste the vassal states of Hungary, Bosnia, Servia, Wallachia, and
Bulgaria, turned his arms against Servia. The general of the Hungarian
king met the enemy near the fortress of Semendria, where the decisive
battle was to be fought. During this engagement a knight with a coat of
arms, familiar to no one, made his appearance. A black raven, holding
a gold ring in his beak, was painted on his shield. Never before had
they witnessed fighting as gallant as that of the Raven Knight at the
head of his small troop. He was seen now in one place, now in another,
but wherever he showed himself the enemy either fled before him or
was slain. To the Hungarians it seemed as if the god of war himself
had descended to fight under their banners, and they were seized
with wild enthusiasm. The Turkish general, with the remnant of his
army, fled in dismay, and from this day forward the name of the raven
knight continued to be the terror of Turkish warriors. This mysterious
knight was John Hunyadi. To be sure, men like Pongrácz, Szentmiklóssy,
Thalloczy, or Maróthy, had before this day proved themselves heroes
in the many struggles against the Turks. After this memorable battle,
however, the splendor of Hunyadi’s name dimmed the glory of all. With
the people, whose chief delight was martial exploits, and in whose eyes
the Turks were the most dreadful enemy of their country, his prestige
increased from year to year. For Hunyadi, like his powerful antagonist
the Turk, never knew what it was to rest. No other enemy was like
this one he had to cope with. The Turkish state was so organized that
it could not exist without fresh conquests and incessant wars. The
Janissaries wanted occupation and glory, the mounted Spahis new lands,
the immense hordes which marched at the distance of a day’s walk in
advance of the Turkish army were hungry after booty, and the sultans
themselves longed to win fresh conquests and military glory against the
infidels, as the followers of the cross were styled by them.
An enemy like this was a most dangerous neighbor. It is true that
Hungary was divided from the Turkish empire by her vassal states,
Bulgaria, Wallachia, Servia, and Bosnia, but the Turkish sultans
already looked upon these territories as their own, and were constantly
organizing inroads into Hungary from them. Hunyadi had passed his
early life near the border; and, accustomed to the perpetual fighting
going on there, he was also familiarized with the magnitude of the
danger. With an iron will he determined to devote his whole strength to
the struggle against the Turks. By his gallantry he gradually acquired
the fortune necessary for this purpose, for the kings were lavish in
granting to him again and again large estates as a compensation for his
bravery. Nor was he wanting in opportunities against the Turks, for,
having been successively created Count of Temes, ban of Szörény, and
vayvode of Transylvania, it became his duty to defend the border with
the money and army placed in his hands. If the Turks appeared at any
point on a marauding expedition, or to provoke hostilities, Hunyadi
was quick to meet them at once, and did not rest until he had achieved
victory.
In one such expedition, Ishak, the pasha of Semendria, fared badly.
This overbearing Turk, issued from the fortress of Semendria, and,
having overrun the country, left behind him nothing but desolation
and the tears of widows and orphans. Hunyadi, with a small troop,
started in his pursuit, and, coming up with him, he took away from him
the prisoners and the booty he had captured, and drove him and his
army back to the very walls of Semendria. The sultan, upon hearing
the news of this defeat, at once despatched Mezid Bey with an army
of 80,000 men against Hunyadi. Orders were issued to destroy every
thing—property and human life alike; neither the young nor the old
nor the women were to be spared. Hunyadi was well informed as to the
enemy’s movements. He knew that in this campaign the special aim would
be to kill or capture him, for his person stood almost alone in the way
of the Sultan’s conquests and glory. The Turkish commander offered,
on the eve of the battle, an enormous reward to the soldier who would
succeed in capturing Hunyadi. This critical occasion showed not only
the importance attributed to Hunyadi’s person by the Turks, but also
the great love with which he was surrounded and the degree to which he
was idolized by his soldiers and comrades. One of the latter, Simon
Kemény, who knew of the intentions of the enemy, urgently begged his
leader to exchange with him horses and accoutrements. Hunyadi at first
refused, but finally yielded to Kemény’s entreaties and handed him over
his military equipments.
But he built his plan of battle upon this ruse: He ordered five
hundred distinguished soldiers to be stationed near the person of the
devoted officer, and he himself withdrew with his reserve and took up
a position in a remoter spot. The following day the two armies engaged
in battle. Every Turkish warrior sought the famous Hungarian hero; all
were eager for the glory of capturing and killing him, and anxious
to secure the prize set on his head. They all knew his face—which
strikingly resembled that of Simon Kemény—and his accoutrements, which
had been minutely described to them by their comrades. They at once
made a rush on Kemény, the pretended Hunyadi. This gallant hero, with
his five hundred men, stood the brunt of the onslaught with superhuman
courage; the enemy were literally mowed down by their swords, but,
at last, they had to give way to superior numbers, and their brave
leader laid down his life on the battle-field. The Turkish soldiers
precipitated themselves eagerly and with shouts of triumph upon his
inanimate body, when suddenly Hunyadi broke upon them—the real and
living Hunyadi whom the enemy had already thought dead. At this sight,
the enemy, who, a few moments ago, felt sure of their victory, were
seized with a panic, and sought safety in flight. Their leader, Mezid
Bey himself, and his son lay lifeless, with battered skulls, on the
field of battle.
The entire Turkish camp, with immense treasures and its military
stores, as well as numerous prisoners, fell into the hands of the
victorious Hungarians. Many a brave Hungarian warrior, it is true,
had lost his life, and the devoted Simon Kemény had found the death
he expected, but the country was saved, and the Hungarian losses were
as nothing compared with the losses of the Turks. The devout Hunyadi
afterwards caused a chapel to be erected from the proceeds of the
Turkish booty in memory of his martyred comrades.
The news of the ignominious defeat reached Sultan Murat at Adrianople;
he was greatly incensed, and swore dire vengeance against the
Hungarians. He summoned before him his brother-in-law, entrusted to his
command eighty thousand men, and ordered him to invade Hungary, to lay
every thing waste with fire and steel, and to annihilate Hunyadi and
his army. The Turkish commander, letting loose his Tartars, entered
Hungary quite suddenly through Wallachia. The frontier is here formed
by gigantic mountains, and but narrow passes lead from one country
into the other. Through one of these passes, the Vaskapu (Iron Gate),
the Turkish army passed into Hungary. The invaders had hardly time to
rest from their fatigues, when Hunyadi with his army appeared before
the unsuspecting enemy, ready to give battle. Abedin was surprised and
disconcerted; he thought the Hungarians would fly before him, and they
were facing him. Hunyadi entrenched his foot soldiery in a wagon-camp,
whilst he himself with his horse attacked the Spahis (Turkish cavalry).
After scattering the latter, he turned against the Turkish infantry,
the Janissaries, in the rear, but the attack was only a feigned one. As
if fearful of being surrounded, he suddenly began to retreat with his
army to that portion of the valley where the wagon-camp was stationed.
The Janissaries, leaving their protected positions, started with wild
exultation in pursuit of the Hungarians.
Hunyadi, having taken up his position at the fortified place in the
narrow valley, directed a side attack against the Turkish horse and
drove them back upon the fighting Janissaries, whose storming of the
wagon fortress was attended with as little success as that of the waves
beating against the solid rock. The Turkish army could not display
its strength, and confusion and wild disorder soon seized the troops.
Their commander, perceiving that it was impossible to save his army,
mounted his horse and galloped away. Fifteen thousand Hungarians were
opposed, on that occasion, to eighty thousand Turks, inured to war,
well trained, and accustomed to victory. The Turkish Janissaries,
whose impenetrable line never broke, were annihilated; the cavalry,
the far-famed Spahis, were scattered; and the whole Turkish army was
in part massacred and in part put to disorderly flight. The meanest
portion only saved themselves by running away; the best of the warriors
perished, for the Turkish troops were by no means lacking in personal
courage. The principal difference between the opponents was that the
Turkish army was usually too confident of victory, and was often led by
incompetent generals, while among the Hungarians discipline prevailed.
Hunyadi, furthermore, not only gave battle according to plans concerted
by his military genius, but understood also, during the tumult and
confusion of the battle, how to execute with his troops rapid and
precise movements. These qualities had decided the present battle, and
were also the secret of his future triumphs.
All Europe hailed with joy and admiration the splendid victories of the
Hungarian arms, for the whole Christian world had witnessed with alarm
the extension of the power of the dreaded Osmanlis. Not only Hunyadi
himself, but all his companions in arms, felt that, in inflicting such
heavy losses upon the Turks, they were not defending Hungary alone,
but saving all Christendom from that Turkish rule which had exhibited
a boundless appetite for continental extension. Aware of this state
of things, Hunyadi initiated a policy exceeding in boldness the one
hitherto pursued by him. He appealed to all the rulers of Europe—to
some personally, to others through the king and the pontiff of Rome—to
lend him their aid, and he declared that, if they responded to his
appeal, he was ready to begin an offensive war against the Turks.
All Europe received with satisfaction both his plan and request, but
all he could obtain was gracious words and fair promises; aid in any
tangible shape was flowing in but thinly. The Poles (the Hungarian king
Uladislaus being also their king) sent a tolerably large contingent;
in Germany, France, and Bohemia, too, there were many ready to enlist
in a holy war against the unbelieving Turks, as had been formerly
done in the time of the crusaders, and these joined Hunyadi’s camp.
The southern vassal states sent also some forces. The principal
army, however, was still composed of Hunyadi’s Hungarians, which was
joined by the king’s own troops. They may have numbered altogether
forty thousand men. The king himself joined in the offensive campaign
(in July, 1443) and placed himself at the head of the motley army.
His leadership proved an injury rather than an advantage, for the
discipline would have been far more perfect in the army if Hunyadi in
person, with his own men, had taken the lead. The Hungarian general,
nevertheless, defeated the Turks in their own country in four smaller
engagements and in two larger battles. When the Hungarian army
approached the Balkans—the heart of the Turkish empire in Europe—they
were already wading in snow. They nevertheless marched on, undaunted
by the enormous mountains and the impracticable and narrow passes. But
the Turks had already taken up their positions along the difficult
passes, on the mountain tops, and in the passes themselves, in such
a manner that they had made sure of every advantage. Hunyadi quickly
perceived that the position of the sultan behind such entrenchments
and bulwarks was impregnable. Being, therefore, foiled in his desire
to aim an offensive blow at the enemy, he endeavored to entice him
into the plain. In this he succeeded. As he was retreating from the
Balkan passes, slowly and cautiously tracing his way back, the Turkish
army quickly started in his pursuit. The sultan reasoned that the
Hungarian army was, by this time, exhausted with cold, the fatigues,
and the extraordinary exertions, and that it would be an easy matter
to catch them now in their own trap. But he counted without Hunyadi.
When the latter thought the time had come for it, he turned and faced
the enemy. He selected a vantage-ground where the Turkish army could at
no time bring all their forces into play, and must therefore offer to
the Hungarians a chance of beating them in detachments. The struggle
was protracted, for the Turks could afford, to wait. As soon as one
of their generals was defeated, the sultan had him strangled on the
spot, and despatched in his place another general and another army.
The contest went desperately on by the light of the moon. Every one
took part in it; King Uladislaus himself was wounded. The exasperated
Turks, after their ranks had been broken up, did not attempt to fly,
but perished fighting. The commander-in-chief of the sultan’s army was
taken captive.
The Hungarian army returned in triumph to Buda. Close upon their heels
followed the sultan’s envoy, begging for peace. All he now asked for
was to be let alone in his own country, and he in turn would not molest
Hungary. This was an important concession, for the faith of the sultans
had heretofore been held to forbid them to enter into a parley with,
and still less to entreat peace of, the infidel Christians. But the
sultan had just now a special reason for peace. Half of his empire had
risen in arms against him—the Albanians in Europe and Mohammedan rebels
in Asia. As usual with states based upon violence, the discontented
rose on all sides at the news of the first lost battle. This was the
effect of Hunyadi’s campaign.
The terms of peace offered by the sultan were of the most flattering
and tempting nature. He promised a great deal of money, territory,
mines, and captives. Hunyadi was now in favor of peace; he felt that
he must gather strength. Peace was therefore concluded, the king
swearing by the Gospel and the sultan by the Koran. The ambassadors of
the sultan had hardly left Hungary when Cardinal Julian, the pope’s
nuncio, arrived in the country and declared, in the pontiff’s name, the
oath of Uladislaus, the Hungarian king, to be null and void, adjuring
him, at the same time, by all the saints, to hasten and make use of
this opportunity to annihilate the Turks, and insisting that one so
favorable would never occur again. All Europe’s eyes were upon them,
he added, and all Europe wished to take part in the struggle. And,
indeed, the Christian princes hastened to protest against the peace,
and offered money and soldiers in abundance to continue the war.
Meanwhile news arrived that the Italian naval squadron had appeared in
the Turkish waters to intercept the sultan’s crossing over from Asia
to Europe. It was urged that now had come the time to fall upon the
Turkish empire, which was without a master. The papal nuncio summoned
all his eloquence to prove that the peace concluded with the Turk was
not valid, for the word given to an unbeliever was not binding, and God
did not listen to an oath deposited into pagan hands. “All Europe,” he
continued, “scoffed at this peace, and the honor and martial glory of
the Hungarian nation will be like naught if she persisted in keeping
it. It will disgrace her heroic name.”
There was no occasion for adding more; the Hungarians had no wish
to be thought cowards, and to this they preferred perjury. They
enthusiastically resolved upon war. Hunyadi alone remained cold; he had
no faith in big words and promises. But he was compelled to obey the
commands of his king. He collected about 20,000 men, and with these he
again marched into the Turkish empire. The famous European contribution
had dwindled down to a few hundred soldiers and a few thousand florins,
but it was hoped that many of the discontented would join them on their
march. And, indeed, the vayvode of Wallachia joined them with about
10,000 men, but he could not help remarking to the king with regard
to the forces of Sultan Mura, that the latter was in the habit of
surrounding himself when on a hunting expedition with a retinue more
numerous than the entire Hungarian army. It was, however, too late to
think of drawing back.
And now bad news came crowding in; it seemed as if good fortune had
altogether deserted the Hungarians. The Prince of Servia refused to
join them. The Albanians failed in their attempt to cut their way to
the Hungarians, and what seemed most incredible of all, the Italian
naval squadron, whose task it was to have been to hinder the sultan’s
crossing over to Europe, had itself carried over the Turk for good
money. The Hungarians were left alone and forsaken in the foreign
country. There was reason enough now for retreating, and there were
some who counselled retreat. It was Hunyadi’s turn now to interfere.
He declared that he did not fear the Turks under any circumstances,
and if they had got so far they were bound to engage them in battle
by beginning the attack themselves. As soon as Hunyadi came to the
fore, confidence was at once restored; his person inspired the army
with courage, and they continued their march against the Turks. The
two opposing armies met near Varna, on the 10th of November, 1444. The
sultan had pitched his tent on the top of a hill, and near it he had
the document, upon which the treaty of peace was written, hoisted on a
pole. He had with him more than 100,000 men ready for the fray. But the
order of battle of the Hungarian army was again most admirable, such
as could only be suggested by the lofty genius of Hunyadi. To every man
was assigned his part and place, nor was any exception made in this
respect in favor of the king. He obtained a post where no danger could
reach him, and Hunyadi solemnly engaged him not to leave his place
until he himself would call upon him to do so.
The battle now commenced. Hunyadi with his reserve horse-troop went
wherever there was most danger, assisting, encouraging, and commanding.
The first set-to took place between the cavalry. The struggle did not
last long; the brilliant Turkish cavalry was put to flight in disorder.
At this desperate sight the sultan put spurs to his horse, and turning
its head was about to leave the battle-field, but the commanders near
him seized the bridle of his horse, and menaced him with death if
he did not go on with the battle. The sultan, taking courage again,
ordered fresh troops into the fight, and the battle began to rage with
renewed fury. In the midst of the sanguinary contest the two hostile
leaders met face to face. Karafi Bey, his eyes sparkling, fell upon
Hunyadi, and lifted his sword, but before he could strike a blow he
slid from his horse pierced to the heart. The fall of their leader was
the signal for the wild flight of the Turkish horse.
The Polish banner-bearers, surrounding the king, were envious witnesses
of Hunyadi’s victory, and urged Uladislaus, who was hardly able to
restrain his youthful ardor, to participate in the engagement, by
representing to him that victory was already assured, that he should
not leave all the glory to Hunyadi, and that he should, at least, draw
his sword and show himself a hero worthy of the double crown.
The king, forgetting his promise, accompanied by the banner of the
country, made straight for the Janissaries, who had, as yet, hardly
been in the fight. Hunyadi immediately saw the king’s movement, and
followed him as swiftly as he could. Upon this the king penetrated more
deeply still into the ranks of the Janissaries, Hunyadi being unable
now to cut his way to his sovereign. The king’s companions succumbed
one after the other. At last a Janissary succeeded in creeping up close
to the king’s horse, and striking at the horse’s feet with his sword,
he brought it down. Horse and rider fell, and the king was instantly
despatched. The mad fray lasted a few minutes longer, when suddenly
the pale head of the king, in his silver helmet, stuck on a pike,
became visible. At this sight the Hungarian army and their leaders lost
their senses, and the campaign came to a sudden end. The victorious
Hungarians became fugitives, and Hunyadi himself returned to his home
a lonely wanderer. The sultan, in surveying the bloody battle-field,
exclaimed: “I wish my enemies only a victory like this.” The Turks were
not in a condition to pursue the defeated Hungarians.
The discomfited army crept back to their country, bringing with them
the news that Hungary was without a king. The uppermost question now
was who should be elected king. The plight of Hungary at that time was
a sorry one, indeed. The king had left no children behind him, and
yet there was an heir to the throne. When Albert of Hapsburg, the
predecessor of Uladislaus, died, in 1439, his widow was _enceinte_,
and she afterwards gave birth to a boy. The partisans of the late
queen caused this her son, Ladislaus, to be crowned at once. The great
majority, however, and Hunyadi with them, wanted on the throne a man
who would be able to be their leader in the struggle against the Turks.
The result was the election of Uladislaus, the Polish king, in 1440.
The widowed queen with her son repaired to the court of the Duke of
Austria, and from there she caused Hungary to be devastated by the
Bohemian, John Ziska.
It was quite natural that after the death of Uladislaus the whole
nation should look to the child Ladislaus as the future king. But the
Austrian duke claimed a large sum under the title of the expenses of
education of the young prince, a sum which the Hungarians were neither
able nor willing to pay. Whilst this matter was being discussed,
Hunyadi, being the captain-general of the country, was temporarily
entrusted with the conduct of the principal affairs of state. Two years
later he was elected governor of the country, with powers that but
little differed from those of royalty.
As governor he deemed it his paramount duty to resume hostilities
against the Turks. His mind was busy again with the plan to which
he had devoted his life and fortune—namely, to attack the Turks and
to drive them from Europe. In 1448 the sultan, at the head of an
army of 150,000 men, invaded Albania, a country with which Hungary,
owing to their community of interests, deeply sympathized. Hunyadi
thought this an opportune moment to carry out his plan. From abroad
he received again assurances of aid, but in the end they turned
out to be, as before, empty promises. Putting his trust in God and
himself, he started with 24,000 men. It was his purpose to unite
his forces with those of Scanderbeg, the commander-in-chief of the
Albanians. But as soon as the news of Hunyadi’s advance reached
the sultan, he left the Albanians and marched against his old and
most implacable enemy. He offered him peace, but Hunyadi replied
by drawing up his army in battle array. The battle was fought with
great desperation, the fight continuing for days, and although the
Turkish army outnumbered five times the Hungarians, the strategy of
Hunyadi rendered the issue doubtful for some time. At the last moment,
however, it was decided in favor of the Turks. Treason had turned
the scale; the Wallachian vayvode, losing confidence in the wearied
troops of Hunyadi, deserted with 8,000 men and joined the sultan. When
the Hungarians saw this, they refused to listen any further to their
commanders, and, scattering, they fled. Hunyadi himself escaped with
great difficulty only. Whilst wandering towards his country on foot,
unarmed, and through impassable roads, he fell into the hands of two
Turkish marauders. They little knew what a distinguished person they
had captured, but there was no mistake about the golden cross on his
breast. Luckily for Hunyadi they both coveted the cross and began
quarrelling over it, and finally fell to fisticuffs. During their
fight Hunyadi suddenly drew the sword of one of them, slaying him with
it; the other, on seeing this, took to his heels. He had hardly escaped
one danger, when another was in store for him. On his way he had hired
a guide, who, instead of taking him to his own country, brought him to
Brankovitch, the Servian prince, the man who, since the campaign of
1443, had been constantly crossing his plans. The treacherous Servian,
who was licking now the hands of the Hungarians, now of the Turks,
entered into negotiations with the Turkish sultan concerning Hunyadi’s
head. The latter, however, esteemed, even in his enemy, the pure-minded
hero, and refused to entertain so base an offer.
Hunyadi returned to Hungary, and hastened to forget the injury done to
him by the Servian prince; but the Turks he did not forget. In his most
desperate straits he steadily kept before his eyes—the main object of
his life—the ruin of the Turks. In 1453, the child-king, Ladislaus V.,
began his reign; but, although Hunyadi then relinquished his position
as governor of Hungary, he still remained the captain-general of the
country, the commander-in-chief of the army, and as such he missed no
opportunity to injure his arch-enemy.
This same year, 1453, witnessed a most remarkable event in the history
of Europe. Mohammed II., the new sultan, took Constantinople, the
capital of the Greek empire and the gate of Europe, and made it the
capital of his empire. “There is one God in heaven, and one Lord
on earth, and I am that Lord!” exclaimed the sultan on entering
Constantinople. All Europe trembled; Hunyadi alone remained calm and
prepared for war. After a few minor engagements, Turks and Hungarians
stood face to face again near Belgrade in 1456. This fortress was the
gate of Hungary, and the great sultan wanted to get possession of
it. For this purpose he determined to make a supreme effort, feeling
that the seizure of this fortified place would decide the fate of
generations to come. He led over 150,000 men under the walls of that
famous fortress, and hastened to station his ships on the Danube, on
which Belgrade lies, in order to cut off the communication between
the Hungarian army and the garrison, and thus to isolate the latter.
The Hungarian army itself did not number, even now, over 15,000 men,
hardly more than those whom Hunyadi had been able to collect by his own
exertions. Only this time, however, the great captain did not stand
alone, but received great help from another quarter. A monk of magic
eloquence, John Capistrano, who was sent by the pope to the country
to preach a crusade, had, by the irresistible power of his appeals,
collected 60,000 crusaders to assist Hunyadi. These men were armed with
scythes and pole-axes only, and were led by the sound of bells instead
of words of military command; but their fanaticism was quite equal to
that of the Mohammedan Turk.
With an army composed of such warriors Hunyadi engaged in the great
contest. His first effort was directed to the river, in order to
relieve the garrison of the fortress. After an engagement of five
hours, the great naval squadron of the Turks was scattered by the
small galleys which had been the objects of the enemy’s ridicule, but
which were led to the attack by fanatic crusaders under the captaincy
of Hunyadi. This restored the communication of the Hungarian army with
the Hungarian garrison. Still Mohammed looked with scorn at the rabble
collected on the opposite bank, the leaders of whom were largely monks,
and he swore an oath that in two months’ time, he would plant the proud
crescent on the walls of Buda, the capital of Hungary. For eight days
and eight nights the Turkish guns roared against Belgrade, and on the
ninth day Mohammed ordered a general assault. The assault was renewed
three times, and three times were the Turks repulsed. At the last
moment, when the strength of the besieged seemed ready to give way, the
Hungarian commander ordered the fascines soaked with oil and pitch,
which were piled up in the ditches, to be set on fire and to be hurled
at the storming men. Confusion seized the assailants, and each sought
safety for himself, for he who did not escape met with a miserable
death in the flames. Meanwhile the defence was rapidly changing into
an attack along the whole line; the crusaders, mad with the excitement
of the struggle, rushed forward, while Hunyadi directed an orderly
attack against the Turkish camp. The engagement now became general, and
the sultan himself received a wound. Dismayed, he took to flight, his
troops following. Nothing could keep them longer together; the immense
army was scattered to the winds, leaving behind them, under the walls
of the famous fortress, 40,000 killed and 300 cannon.
At that most glorious moment of Hunyadi’s life, when the Turks were
put to flight by the bare mention of his name, this Christian hero,
suddenly and without any premonition, breathed his last. He did not
live to hear the panegyrics and felicitations of all Europe, the
grateful recognition of his services by his own nation. His mighty
frame sank under the weight of the fatigue of war, and, after a brief
agony, he expired. His inveterate enemy, the great sultan himself,
expressed grief at the news of his death, pronouncing him to be the
ablest general in Europe.
Many there were, however, who rejoiced at his death. For, like all
great men, he too had enemies against whom he was engaged in a
life-and-death struggle as much as against the Turks. He had his
envious rivals from the moment he had struggled into fame and had
acquired a fortune. These men cared little to remember that he was
indebted for both to his talents and courage. Some of the great lords,
who were able to trace back their pedigrees to past centuries, looked
upon him, the son of a simple noble, as an upstart. When he afterwards
became captain-general and governor, they refused to obey him, but he
made them obey by force of his arms. They were only silenced, however;
in their innermost hearts they both hated and feared him. Among these
were Garay, Brankovics, and Czilley, all of them connections of the
royal house. The latter, Ulric Czilley, a wily and base man, who,
though a foreigner, had pushed himself into the first place near the
minor King Ladislaus V., was unremitting in his intrigues against
him. He and his companions made the shallow-minded young king believe
that Hunyadi and his two sons, who were growing into manhood, were
ambitious of the crown, and, under this pretext, but without the king’s
knowledge, they laid traps for him. The fearless hero faced all such
base machinations with the loftiness of a truly martial spirit. The
secret attacks he met with caution and straightforwardness, and the
slanderous insinuation that he coveted the throne he refuted by the
simplicity of his life. Rich enough to have at any moment ten thousand
men at his back, he was always as modest and unselfish as a monk. His
detractors reflected on his great wealth, forgetting that his entire
income was spent in armaments against the Turks.
He lived and died like a true knight, and in Hungarian history he will
live forever as their grandest hero. If he did not achieve his most
ardent wish, the expulsion of the Turks from Europe, his will always
remain the merit of having made the arms of Hungary respected and
feared by the Turks, and they no longer dared to look upon his country
as an easy conquest. Over sixty years elapsed before a Turkish sultan
again ventured to threaten Belgrade.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER X.
KING MATTHIAS.
1458-1490.
Matthias, the son of Hunyadi, was indebted for his elevation to the
throne to the prestige of his father, who was the idol of the nation,
but it was through his own genius alone that he strengthened the throne
and became famous, mighty, and, perhaps, the greatest king of whom
his country could boast. He excelled alike as a soldier and leader of
armies, as a statesman and diplomatist, and as a man delighting in
science and art. In those warlike days it would not have been possible
for him to become conspicuous among his contemporaries and to become
a powerful king, unless he had, in the first place, shown ability as
a soldier. Matthias inherited the courage and soldierly qualities of
his great father, and, following in his footsteps, became the foremost
general of his age, combining rare personal gallantry with a remarkable
capacity for military organization. The splendid example of his father
had been before his eyes since his most tender years; it was his
father who initiated him into the skilful handling of arms and into
the secrets of strategy, and both his father and his famous mother,
Elizabeth Szilágyi, vied with each other in inuring his body and mind
to the struggles and dangers of which, since his earliest childhood,
so large a share had been his lot.
Trained amid warlike games, he very soon had to face serious struggles,
for the men who had looked upon John Hunyadi with envy and jealousy
extended their ill feeling to his two handsome boys, Matthias and his
elder brother, Ladislaus. No secret was made before the youths of
the dangers that surrounded them; they were taught rather to brave
than to avoid them. Ladislaus, less fortunate than his brother, soon
fell a victim to the machinations directed against both. Ladislaus
was threatened with assassination in his own castle at the hands
of Czilley, who was a foreigner and the guardian and friend of the
boy-king. His men, attracted by the noise of the scuffle which ensued,
rushed in and killed the would-be murderer. The king vowed that he
would not molest Ladislaus for this act of self-defence, but he had him
afterwards seized, thrown into prison, and executed without warrant
of law or judicial sentence. This was the work of the enemies of the
house of Hunyadi, but very soon they had to pay the penalty of their
iniquity. The mass of the nation was roused, and upon the sudden death
of Ladislaus V. in his other kingdom, amongst the Czechs, Matthias, the
surviving son of Hunyadi, was proclaimed king of Hungary.
[Illustration: PRESBURG.]
Although but fifteen years old when he ascended the throne, he both
knew and was accustomed to the dangers that lurked around him, and it
was not long before he proved that he could cope with them. Indeed his
natural disposition and early training rather led him to seek danger.
From his earliest childhood he worshipped heroes, and nothing delighted
him more than the ballads, legends, and heroic songs glorifying the
gallant deeds and wonderful performances of such leaders of men, as
Attila, Alexander the Great, Roland, the French Knight, or his own
father. He could listen to these stories all day long, forgetting
both hunger and thirst. As he grew to manhood and became king, he
had opportunity himself to perform the great deeds he had admired in
others. His personal courage knew no limits, and his reckless daring
frequently confounded his own men, who, not without cause, feared for
his life.
There was one remarkable trait which particularly characterized his
valorous deeds as well as his other acts, and that was his love of
justice. To this might be traced, in most cases, his boldest actions.
Nothing afforded him greater pleasure than to unmask the hypocrite,
and to shame the bully and braggart. On occasions like these he would
often risk his life to make the truth triumph. Many an instance of
this kind is related of him. On one occasion, a German knight, by the
name of Holubar, came to Buda, the capital of Hungary. He paraded
everywhere his gigantic frame and extraordinary strength, and was
indeed thought to be invincible in the tournaments where mounted
knights rushed at each other, lance in hand, for he invariably
precipitated his adversary to the ground. King Matthias, anxious to
measure arms with the big-bodied German, challenged him. The latter
declined the challenge, fearing lest he might do some harm to the
king, and be in consequence exposed to ill treatment. But the king
insisted, and Holubar finally consented. He was determined, however, to
slide from his saddle at the slightest thrust from the king. Somehow
the king heard of his determination, and immediately caused him to be
summoned to his presence. He there vowed, by all the saints, that if
he perceived Holubar doing this, he would have him executed, and at
the same time made him swear that he would fight with him as if he
were the knight’s mortal enemy. The contest took place in the presence
of many thousands, and many doubted the king’s success, comparing the
German giant with the middle-sized Matthias. The two combatants rushed
at each other with tremendous thrusts; the steeled muscles of the king
proved superior to the heavy bulk of his adversary, who reeled from
his horse, struck by a heavy blow on the forehead, and lay with his
arm broken and fainting on the ground. The king, too, staggered by
his adversary’s thrust, had to slide off the saddle holding on by his
horse’s bridle. The king, having humiliated the bragging foreigner,
sent him away with presents of horses, splendid dresses, and a large
purse of money. This happened shortly after his elevation to the
throne, showing that he then already was a practical master in the use
of arms. Matthias was of middle size, but the trunk of his body tall in
comparison with his legs, which were rather short, and it was owing to
this freak of nature that when on horseback he always overtopped his
fellow-riders. He was broad-shouldered, deep-chested, and his limbs
were as hardened as steel. On this solid frame rested a massive yet
finely cut head, and his eyes were as sharp as those of the falcon.
He was able to concentrate his strength and will on one point, never
losing his self-confidence, never wavering, and full of endurance. He
never vacillated, and sure of the present and of the coming moment, was
always ready for action. He possessed an even nature, and was equally
unruffled and steady in single combat and on the battle-field, in his
private and his public life. He at all times produced the impression of
a man full of power and determination, and of a mind of large culture
and many-sidedness.
We shall now speak of him as the soldier, for he will appear before us
during most of his career in wars and battles. He waged war, on several
occasions, against his neighbors on the north, the Poles and Czechs,
defeating them often, and finally becoming the king of the Czechs.
On the south he fought numerous smaller battles, but almost without
cessation, against the sultan. His most inveterate enemy, however, was
Frederic, the envious and avaricious emperor of Germany, his western
neighbor, who incessantly harassed him. Matthias was engaged in four
great wars against him, and finally captured, in 1485, Frederic’s
capital, Vienna, compelling the German emperor to go begging from
convent to convent, seated on a wagon drawn by oxen.
Hungary was, at that period, beset by many troubles and enemies,
but her name was honored and respected everywhere. The sword was in
everybody’s hand, and it almost seemed as if men were born with it.
It was the prevailing characteristic of European society, in that age,
that all men went about armed, and were ready to draw their swords
on the least provocation, and in Hungary especially, where fighting
against the neighbors was constantly going on, this fashion was more
prevalent than elsewhere. King Matthias was well aware that the rash,
passionate, hot-headed, free, and soldier-nation he ruled over would
but reluctantly submit to restraint. He was, nevertheless, determined
to introduce discipline amongst his soldiers. It was an exceedingly
difficult task, considering that the armies of Europe in general were,
in those days, undisciplined, loosely organized, composed of motley
elements, and not subjected to uniform military training. But Matthias
was not at a loss for a remedy, being a man to inquire, to observe, to
learn from others, and to put to use what he had learned. He remembered
the example of his father, who had drilled his own soldiers, the
lessons derived from the study of ancient Roman generalship and from
conversations with the most renowned contemporary captains, and finally
he did not spurn to profit by the example of his enemies, the Turks.
The Turkish Janissaries, the most famous foot-soldiery in the world,
were well-disciplined troops, forming a permanent and standing nucleus
for the Turkish forces.
A similar standing body of soldiers was now organized by King Matthias.
He employed his genius in their training, kept them together, supported
them by his own means, and established discipline amongst them by the
force of his character. This was the famous _black troop_, one of
the corner-stones of his power, and, next to the French, the earliest
standing army in Europe. These soldiers he attached to his person by
the strongest ties. He lavishly bestowed upon them both pay and booty,
and made them sharers of his triumphs. But it was, above all, the rare
charm of his personal qualities which won for him their affections.
They were not only faithfully devoted to him during his life, but
fondly cherished his memory after his death. He himself trained and
instructed them, sparing neither time nor trouble to accomplish his
purpose. He set them a bright example in all soldierly duties. He
shared with his soldiers all the hardships of war; suffered with them
cold, hunger, and thirst, and the fatigues of forced marches. He did
not shrink from the most exposed position on the battle-field whenever
his presence was needed. At sieges, he was often seen walking to and
fro amidst a hail of bullets and arrows, a recklessness to which
numerous lesser and larger wounds on his body abundantly bore witness.
He paid particular attention to the ferreting out of the weak points
of fortresses. He employed clever spies for that purpose, paying them
liberally, but never placed implicit trust in them, for he himself
was a cleverer spy than any of them. It particularly gratified him to
hoodwink an enemy by discovering his plans, even at the risk of his
life, and thus frustrating them.
In 1475 he laid siege to Shabatz, situated on the southern border of
the country. He was exceedingly anxious to take the place, but knowing
nothing about its defences, he undertook in person the spying out
of the plan of the fortifications. At night he got into a boat in
company with a trusty attendant and an oarsman, who was to row him
around the walls. They were hardly half way, when the Turks discovered
them, and hailed them with a volley of shots, which, in spite of the
darkness, struck his attendant. The king, defying death, continued his
investigations, undaunted by the heavy fire, until he had finished the
inspection of the fortress. The bold venture, moreover, was not thrown
away, for shortly after the place was captured. Some of his expeditions
were more amusing, but not less dangerous.
At the siege of Vienna, in 1485, he frequently walked all around the
walls, unattended, or, at most, followed by a page. On one occasion,
he stole into the city in disguise. Dressed in the shabby dress of a
country boor, with a basket containing butter and eggs on his back, he
traversed the city in every direction, selling his wares, and at the
same time spying out the condition of the fortifications. He lounged
about in the market-place, listening to what the people talked about,
and what they were planning. He made his escape in safety, and, making
good use of what he had seen and heard, the city shortly afterward fell
into his hands.
Upon another occasion, his forces being stationed opposite the Turkish
camp, he assumed the disguise of a Turk, and mixing with the country
people who entered the camp to sell their provisions, he succeeded in
passing in with them. Once there, he had the hardihood to seek out
the sultan’s tent, and, settling down near it, he went on selling
provisions and spying all day long. Upon his return to the Hungarian
camp, he sent, on the following day, a letter to the sultan, conceived
in these terms: “Thou guardest thy camp badly, emperor, and thou art
thyself badly guarded. For yesterday I sat, even from morn until night,
near thy tent, selling provisions. And lest thou doubtest my words,
I will tell thee now what was served on thy table.” The sultan, upon
reading this letter, became frightened, and, together with his army,
noiselessly left the neighborhood.
The king was particularly rigorous in the ordering of the sentry
service. He used to rise at night and inspect the sentinels, to see
if they were awake, and in their places. He was especially active
during sieges, being constantly on his feet. He was never satisfied
with reports alone, but was bound to look after every thing in person.
Everybody marvelled at his incessant watchfulness. He awoke at the
slightest sound, at the merest whisper. At the same time, he was famed
for his sound slumbers amidst the din of battle. Upon such occasions,
the shouts of the men, the roaring of the cannon, and the reports of
the musketry seemed to lull him to sleep.
[Illustration: FORTRESS OF BUDA.]
He was self-willed when it came to action. He would, it is true, call
a council of war, and listen to the opinions of his captains, but in
the end he nearly always acted on his own views. He was admirable in
distinguishing idle reports from the truth, being as indefatigable
and clear-headed in his investigations as he was quick and fertile in
the concerting of plans. During the intervals of rest, he liked to
mingle with his soldiers. He would joke and be full of mischief with
them, and, especially in his younger days, would often eat and drink
with them. He always had a kind word for the men in the ranks, just
as, in civil life, he was anxious to impress people that he held the
great lord, the poor noble, and the peasant in equal esteem, as long
as they proved themselves worthy of it. This was truly a rare princely
virtue in his age. Always gracious and affable, he loved to discover
merit, and to reward it. He sought out the wounded, often even on the
battle-field, inquired into their circumstances, comforted them in
their troubles, and reassured and nursed those who were low in spirits.
He made it a point that his soldiers should be regularly and punctually
paid, and rather than get into arrears with their pay, he would borrow
or levy heavy taxes. On one occasion, however, during the Czech wars,
he was completely out of funds. He had been just pondering how to raise
money for his soldiers, when he was called upon by his captains to join
them in a game of dice. The playing was kept up all night, and the king
hardly threw any other numbers than those indicated by him beforehand.
It was easy for him, with fortune thus in his favor, to win 10,000
florins, a sum which he at once distributed amongst his soldiers in the
morning.
Full of sympathy for his soldiers, and princely in his rewards, he yet
rigidly exacted discipline, especially in times of peril; and well
might he do so, as he himself was amongst the first to submit to it.
A comrade to his soldiers during the hours of rest, he became a most
severe commander in war, and during the military exercises and drills.
Disregard of discipline and disobedience were punished with death. At
the tournaments, he often challenged (as was customary in Europe during
the middle ages) his captains to combat, rigorously enjoining upon them
not to spare his person, but the very person whom he thus distinguished
was mercilessly punished if he offended against military discipline. At
a tournament, he met in single combat, in sight of the whole country,
Szvéla, one of his captains; yet, but a short time afterwards, he sent
both him and his companions to the gallows for breaches of discipline
and mutinous conduct. He was, however, never cruel to his soldiers, and
readily forgave offences if he was convinced that they sprang, not from
ill-will, but from awkwardness and lack of experience.
During the campaign against Frederic, the emperor of Germany, he sent
against him one of his generals by the name of Simon Nagy. Nagy,
otherwise a brave captain, was defeated, and returned home filled
with shame at his disgrace. The king received him with a cheerful
countenance, well knowing that the gallant captain had done all he
could, and sent him back again at the head of an army to resume the
campaign. The brave soldier, animated by his king’s confidence and
magnanimity, achieved such a triumphant victory that from that time
Frederic never again ventured to send an army against Matthias. He was
happy in the selection of his generals, and did not object to raising
a man of merit, although of low degree, to the most exalted position.
Kinizsy, his most distinguished captain, a man of mean fortunes, owed
his elevation to the king. This man had been, in his youth, a plain
miller-boy, endowed by nature with gigantic strength. As a miller, he
was capable of lifting with one hand the heaviest mill-stone, and, on
becoming a leader of armies, he rushed upon his enemy with a ponderous
sword in each hand. Such was his enormous strength that, at a great
feast held on the battle-field to celebrate his most renowned victory,
near Kenyérmezo, he, the triumphant Kinizsy himself, stood up before
the merrymaking crowd, and, holding the dead body of a full-grown Turk
in his right hand, another in his left, and a third between his teeth,
tripped the national dance. Captains like these contributed to the
military prestige of the king, but he owed still more to his own royal
qualities.
The impression made by these qualities upon his soldiers remained
unchanged, for he continually demonstrated his soldierly virtues, his
affability, his liberality, and generosity by deeds. Anecdotes in which
the king always played a pleasant part went all the time from mouth
to mouth. An old chronicler says of him: “Never was a prince more
beloved and respected by his people and his soldiers than he, but, at
the same time, everybody feared him as they would a savage lion.” At
the sound of the drums and the blowing of the horns, every one stood
instantly ready for the engagement, and willing to meet death for his
king. During the military drills, every eye was fixed on his person,
and every ear listened to the sound of his voice only; he alone was
the magnet that attracted and riveted the general attention of his
soldiers. In this respect, Hungary stood alone amongst the nations of
Europe, and it was with men like these only that he was enabled to
achieve his wonderfully rapid and well-planned strategic movements.
At a time when the armies of Europe were generally noted for their
unwieldiness, this mobility constituted one of the chief advantages
of the king’s army, and to it he owed his most conspicuous military
achievements.
The king, in his turn, placed the fullest confidence in his soldiers.
In the camp and on the battle-field, as we have seen, he went about
unattended, or, at the most, accompanied by one or two of his men.
He bestowed no care upon the guarding of his person, although at
that period immense sums were lavished by the rulers to insure their
personal safety by surrounding themselves with a body-guard composed
of picked men. He did not feel the necessity of imitating his royal
neighbors in this particular; the love and respect of his soldiers
proved a more powerful protection than any troop of body-guards he
could have organized.
In summing up all we have said about Matthias as a soldier, we obtain
an interesting, attractive, and by no means commonplace picture of him.
Severe to others, he was no less severe to himself; active, energetic,
enterprising, and crafty, he was most happy when actively engaged.
Versed in military matters, he at times exhibited a knowledge of
military science which reminds us of a modern tactician.
The general historian, as well as the chronicler of his own country,
will always assign to him a conspicuous place, not only as a ruler and
statesman distinguished in his own age, but also as an illustrious
example for the world of royal power, dignity, and magnanimity.
He entertained a high opinion of the functions of a ruler. Being
ambitious and proud, he liked to give to the world the spectacle
of a throne occupied by a king dignified, powerful, and splendid,
who, nevertheless, paid tribute to all that was noble and virtuous
in humanity. His mind was always busy with great affairs and bold
schemes, and he was unwearying in seeking the means of accomplishing
them. He never shrank from any task, nor was any task too trifling for
him to engage in if there was a pressing occasion for it. He was as
indefatigable in his study attending to diplomatic affairs as on the
battle-field, unflagging in his activity, and thoroughly informed about
every thing.
There was a great deal of work to be done, for Matthias took a large
part in the political mazes of Europe. He kept up connections with
all Europe, with a view to maintaining and increasing his power—a
system which was at that time pursued by no other European ruler. The
intercourse with the foreign countries was now of a friendly now of a
hostile nature, but it never ceased. As soon as the campaign was at
an end on the battle-field, the diplomatic contest was resumed and
continued in the study. As the king grew older and more powerful,
his troubles with the neighbors increased, for, owing to the enhanced
weight of his word, more and more people sought him out and entered
into relations with him. Foreign ambassadors were continually either
arriving or departing from his court, while his own emissaries were
either leaving on, or returning from, missions of lesser or greater
importance concerning affairs of state or family. Upon such occasions,
especially in the case of missions of greater importance, he felt
the whole dignity of the royal position and spared neither pains nor
money to surround it with stateliness. The ordinary embassies usually
numbered from fifty to sixty members; the more brilliant embassies were
frequently attended by as many as a hundred servants.
In 1487 Matthias sent a splendid embassy to the court of Charles VIII.,
king of France, a description of which will give an idea of the pomp
displayed by the Hungarian king. He caused three hundred horses of
uniform color to be selected, on each of which sat a youth clad in
purple velvet. These youths all wore long gold chains on their sides,
and upon entering a city each placed a braidwork mounted with pearls on
his head. The contemporary chronicles speak with ecstasy of the beauty
of the men, of the splendor of their dress, and of the rich harnesses
of their horses, embossed with precious stones. The presents sent to
the French king on that occasion, consisting of costly horses, horses’
trappings, splendid robes, vessels and ornaments of gold and silver,
amounted to a sum of no less than half a million of florins of the
currency of our days.
The embassy sent by Matthias in 1476 to the king of Naples—whose
daughter, Beatrice, became subsequently his wife—exceeded the last
named in numbers, if not in splendor. It was composed of church and
lay magnates, scholars, prelates, soldiers of high rank, nobles,
knights, relatives of the king, his intimates and councillors. These
again were attended by their secretaries, chamberlains, pages, grooms
and forerunners. It was a wonderfully variegated sight, rich in
coloring, this mounted army of men dressed in costly robes of various
and glaring colors. The great lords were dressed from head to foot in
gala costumes, brilliant with gold and silver and jewels, the nobles
and knights in costumes of colored velvet, the pages and courtiers in
colored satin—all of them mounted on high-mettled steeds. In their
train followed the numerous jesters or fools, whom it was customary at
that time for every great lord to have by his side, to make sport, or
to tell the truth; musicians, especially, according to the fashion of
the day, trumpeters, drummers, and harpists; and, finally, players and
buffoons, all of them attired and bedizened in motley, parti-colored
and tawdry costumes.
The horses’ keep alone cost this embassy a million of florins, present
currency. But not satisfied with carrying on their backs half of the
current wealth of the country they came to represent, the members
of the embassy had brought with them, besides, vessels of gold and
silver, and jewelry of all kind, to be distributed as presents, or
to be paraded about. Ostentation was the fashion of the day; objects
of luxury were still a sort of novelty, and those possessing them
were anxious to have the pleasure of their display. There was another
feature about the pageant of this mission which made it almost unique;
and with which Matthias created the greatest sensation. This was a
band of Turkish prisoners of high rank, clad in costly caftans with
golden turbans on their heads, who preceded the brilliant Hungarian
procession upon their entering the Italian cities. These prisoners had
just been captured by the king near Shabatz, and they were to serve as
an evidence of Hungarian prowess. At that time half Europe stood in
awe of the powerful Turks, particularly the Italians, who, although
excelling in art and science, were wretched and pusillanimous soldiers.
Both Matthias and his father, John Hunyadi, were known to the Italians
as the most powerful and successful foes of the dreaded Turks, and the
prestige of the names of these two warriors won greater respect for the
embassy than all the wealth and luxury displayed by it.
Brilliant as were the embassies sent by Matthias to foreign courts,
he was no less gratified by the arrival of missions to his own, which
were looked upon as a sort of holiday event. The king himself was
inclined to be liberal if he wished to do honor to any one. There
were, besides, gathered about his person a motley crowd of Hungarian,
German, and Czech magnates, prelates and nobles, attentive to every
command of his. Then there were the court attendants amounting to many
hundreds, and all these persons required but a nod from the king to
devote themselves to the preparation of a brilliant reception. They
were quick to don their sumptuous and costly dresses, they brandished
their weapons inlaid with precious stones, they pranced on their steeds
caparisoned in colored silk and velvet, and, attended by an army of
courtiers and servants, clad in garments representing all the colors of
the rainbow, the procession went out amid the blast of horns, to meet
the ambassador and to escort him to the court. In 1487, John Valentini,
the envoy from the court of Ferrara, in Italy, and in 1488, Melchior
Russ, the Swiss envoy, were honored by receptions of this kind. In
December, 1479, John Anagarini, the papal cardinal ambassador, was
received with the greatest imaginable pomp, by the king in person,
who, attended by his church and lay dignitaries, came out to meet
him at three o’clock in the morning. Thousands of wax torches shed a
light as broad as day over the dark and wintry scene. Three days after
the arrival of the cardinal the solemn audience took place. The king
appeared in his royal robes, surrounded by the highest dignitaries of
the court, and by the church and lay magnates, all sumptuously dressed.
The king well understood the art of astonishing and dazzling his
visitors by the dignity of his presence and by the display of lavish
pomp.
[Illustration: RUINS OF VISEGRÁD.]
Upon one occasion he was staying at Visegrád, his splendid palace a
short distance from Buda, when the sultan’s ambassador arrived. It
gratified the pride of Matthias to dazzle the eyes of the Turkish
envoy, who was accustomed to the brilliant surroundings of the
sultan, with the splendor of his own court. Visegrád, which was called
by the contemporaries “an earthly paradise,” fully suited his purpose.
The envoy and his train were brought from their city quarters to the
royal castle, in order to be admitted to the solemn audience with the
king. As the gates of the castle were thrown open a gorgeous spectacle
met their eyes. The king stood on an eminence of one of his hanging
gardens. Around him, above and below him, were grouped the great of the
land and his courtiers, clad in silk, velvet, gold, and silver robes,
with shining arms. At this unexpected sight the envoy was struck with
awe. In confusion he drew nearer, but as his eyes met the proud look
of the king he became so embarrassed that he lost the command of his
voice, and was only able to stammer out, after a pause: “The padishah
greets you, the padishah greets you.” The king, perceiving his painful
hesitation, had him led back to his quarters. After the lapse of a few
days he was conducted again into the king’s presence, who, after having
bestowed upon the envoy rich presents, sent him back to his master with
the proud message to “send another time an ambassador who, at least,
can speak.”
Of such a nature were the audiences granted to foreign envoys. The
audiences granted to his own subjects lacked, of course, the pomp
and pageant of the former, but the king was particularly careful
and painstaking in the treatment of the matters thus brought before
him. This was more especially the case during the beginning of his
reign. His first wife, the daughter of the Czech king, whom he had
married in 1458, died a few years afterwards, leaving him a widower,
and the ceremonial of the court, in the absence of a queen, admitted
of an unrestrained intercourse with his people. But he married again
in 1476 the daughter of the king of Naples, Princess Beatrice. With
her presence Italian etiquette and formality began to prevail in the
royal court, and free access to the king’s person became more and more
difficult. In his youth the business of his doorkeepers was but scant,
for the doors stood wide open for the petitioners, who were kindly
received by the young king. Nor was the number of these small, for the
king’s fame as a friend to justice had spread all over the country. A
whole army of petitioners, from the great lord to the simple peasant,
frequently besieged the doors of the audience hall, for Matthias
was known to treat them all with uniform affability. He attentively
listened to and duly weighed the petitions and complaints of all. This
was a matter of great importance at a time when a privileged class, the
nobles, were the masters of the property of the numerous peasantry, and
frequently held control even of their lives. The laws at that period
were both loose and defective, and the judges could, with impunity,
either misinterpret or distort their meaning to the injury of the
suitor. Besides, in that age nearly every noble had a train amounting
to a small army, and the temptation proved frequently irresistible to
be his own judge and to treat the weaker party as he pleased. Such was
then the condition of things all over Europe.
The most efficacious remedy for these evils was a king just and
strong, who was not loth to inquire into abuses and was ready to
lend the weight of his kingly command and of armed force against the
recalcitrant. Matthias was a ruler equal to such a task. Many excellent
laws were introduced during his reign, and he had both the sense of
justice and the power to enforce them. The very knowledge of the
existence of such a final appeal greatly improved the administration
of justice, for every one was aware that the king was a man of his
word, and that his threats were not empty utterances, but were sure
to be followed by swift and severe punishment. He was as quick in
disposing of the matters submitted to him as he was careful in their
consideration. If he ever delayed affairs they were mostly connected
with important questions of state, diplomacy, and finances, requiring
caution in their management. On such occasions he was master in
the art of keeping silent, and might have excited the envy of the
craftiest Italian diplomatist by his wariness. His mind was not easily
open to extraneous influences; he liked to get at the bottom of all
complaints and accusations by personal investigation. He brought into
the management of civil affairs the habits exhibited by him on the
battle-field; he was always inspecting and investigating. It was a
matter of frequent occurrence with the king to go among the people in
disguise in order to study their characters and dispositions, to learn
their complaints and troubles, and, if possible, to give at once a
helping-hand. During these expeditions he strayed unknown into the
villages, exposing himself frequently to the overbearing treatment of a
village judge, a landed noble, or a constable, and even to occasional
blows, but if he afterwards got hold of the guilty parties he showed
them on his part no mercy. In his disguise he was indifferent to the
scoffs and gibes levelled at him; he rather enjoyed the incongruous and
comical plights he often found himself in, but at the same time he was
apt to give and to take a joke. Of course the king always laughed last,
when the disgraced culprits, after being punished, ruefully slunk away.
He was, as a general thing, very fond of good-natured intrigues, and
liked to season even graver matters with a bit of pleasantry.
To the secret denunciations of eavesdroppers the king, unlike many of
his royal contemporaries, never listened, preferring to trust to his
own eyes and ears only. This manly straightforwardness inspired all his
actions, and was instrumental in causing him to arrive at the truth
and to do justice, and obtained for him among the people, even in his
lifetime, the name of “the just.” The memory of his fame for justice
has survived to this day in the current popular saying: “King Matthias
is dead, justice has fled!” Although as a soldier and statesman crafty
and full of expedients, and even loving disguise in contact with
his people, he never was treacherous and deceitful. Poisoning and
assassination did not enter into his catalogue of expedients as it did
into the policy and practice of his contemporary, the French king,
Louis XI., or the Italian princes, the Estes, Sforzas, the Borgias,
and the popes themselves, who employed both as a favorite means for
accomplishing political objects. All unclean means were repugnant
to his frank and knightly nature, as was evinced by the following
instance. While he was engaged in war, in 1463, against George
Podiebrad, the Czech king, he was approached by a man who offered
to take George’s life in armed combat for a reward of five thousand
florins. The king, knowing the difficulties of the enterprise, at once
consented, promising even a larger amount in case of success. This
man, after lurking for a long while about the person of King George,
despaired of being able to carry out his fell design, for the king was
surrounded by the finest soldiers of the period, and to attack him,
under those circumstances, would have been equivalent to forfeiting
his own life. He therefore proposed to King Matthias to remove the
Czech king by poison. The king indignantly refused to profit by the
assassin’s offer, proudly exclaiming: “We are in the habit of fighting
with arms and not with poison!” At the same time he sent a message to
the Czech king putting him on his guard against the attempt to take his
life by poison, and cautioning him not to partake of any food or drink
unless it was first tested by one of his trusty men.
With views like these it was natural that King Matthias should not be
accessible to any fear of poison or assassination. It was secretly
intimated to him at one time that his courtiers intended mixing
poison with his food. Upon hearing this he exclaimed: “Let no king
ruling justly and lawfully fear the poison and assassin’s dagger of
his subjects.” His capacity for government was particularly shown
in the right selection and thorough appreciation of men, and in the
independence which he always maintained. This trait of character became
at once evident on his ascent to the throne. Being only fifteen years
of age he was deemed too young for the burden of government, and a
governor and state-councillors were placed by his side. But he felt
equal to the duties of his royal office, and determined to take the
reins of government in his own hands. In this scheme, however, he saw
both his friends and his enemies arrayed against him. The former, the
adherents of old Hunyadi, to whose services he owed his throne, wished
to superintend his education, to guard him against dangers, and to
maintain at the same time their influence over him. His enemies, on
the other hand, true to the instincts of their inveterate hostility
to the Hunyadi family, after having first opposed his aspirations
to the throne and afterwards intrigued against him, were glad of an
opportunity to balk him in his wishes, and therefore they now sided
against him, and soon after openly declared for Frederic, the German
emperor.
The position of the young king was an exceedingly critical one; his
foreign enemies, too, the Turks, Germans, and Czechs, began open
opposition and, what was most discouraging of all, the treasury was
empty. But he surprised everybody by the independence and circumspect
conduct with which he met both friends and foes, and also the
difficulties threatening from abroad. His astute questions and ready
replies in conversation were the theme of universal admiration. It was
thought that, being a youth, he would busy himself with empty trifles,
and give little thought to his royal responsibilities. His partisans
had hoped to be called upon to instruct him in the art of government,
whilst his enemies had anticipated that, unmindful of his kingly
duties, he would very soon be ruined. But he disappointed both. In the
council chamber he listened attentively when any of the lords spoke,
but as soon as their views diverged and threatened to degenerate into a
heated discussion, it was he, the youth, whom they had met to advise,
who admonished them to be calm and to agree. His enemies saw that the
youth was thoroughly conscious of the exaltedness of his position,
which placed him above his adherents as well as his enemies, and
they now tried every means to create dissensions between him and his
partisans. In this they failed, for the king was on his guard. Knowing
his difficult position, he took pains to conciliate his friends. In the
treatment of them he was both determined and smooth. In conversation
he first ascertained the views of those to whom he spoke, and then
shaped his own remarks accordingly. He had the talent of persuading his
antagonists without seeming to do so, and of getting them to share his
views, and as he was quick to discover the opinions of others, he was
not liable to being imposed upon. By slow degrees all opposition to him
died out and both friend and foe were silenced.
After disposing of his domestic antagonists, he turned his attention to
his enemies abroad, and, by dint of an active mind, knowledge of men,
polished manner, and generosity, where it was needed, he soon succeeded
in strengthening his throne against all enemies. One by one, the proud
princes and oligarchs, who had only reluctantly and disdainfully
accepted the sovereignty of the upstart, were conciliated by his royal
qualities, and under the rule of Matthias, the son of Hunyadi, Hungary
secured an wider influence and a higher degree of power than she had
ever attained beneath the sceptres of the descendants of the ancient
kings.
An account has been previously given of the splendor which the king’s
embassies displayed abroad, and we may add that Matthias was the
wealthiest and most luxurious ruler in all Europe. He had enormous
wealth at his disposal, composed in part of his own private fortune,
and in part of the royal revenues. At that time there was generally
no distinction made between the revenues of the king and those of
the state. The king disposed of all the sums flowing into the royal
treasury, whether derived from the state taxes or from any other
sources. King Matthias was quite proficient in the art of turning to
the fullest use these sources of income, and of adding fresh ones, in
case of need. He introduced a more punctual and rigorous administration
of the finances with most admirable results. He was himself also the
possessor of a vast private fortune, inherited from his father. His
domains extended for many miles, and he was the owner of mines of gold
and silver, of great productiveness, in the richest mineral region of
the country. None of his subjects could compare with him as to the
extent of their private estates, although there were many amongst the
church and lay magnates who could boast of immense wealth.
In his reign the royal revenues increased upon an unprecedented scale.
The aggregate annual income of the Hungarian treasury amounted under
King Ladislaus V. to only about 120,000 florins. Under Matthias it
increased, on an average, tenfold. His yearly income very soon exceeded
one million, and not unfrequently reached even two million florins,
and this at a period when the French king, who was supposed to be the
richest sovereign, was unable to make his income reach one million. It
is true Matthias stood always in need of a great deal of money to carry
out his vast schemes, his soldiers and wars swallowing up enormous
sums; while it may be said, he was also prone to indulge in all the
luxuries of life.
The time had passed when men’s whole lives were divided between war and
prayer only. Until now these had been the essential characteristics of
the middle ages. But all this was suddenly changed; people awoke to
the consciousness of their wealth, and there were several countries
in Europe offering a long list of varied enjoyments fit to tempt the
most fastidious. The arts, painting, sculpture, and skilful working in
precious metals, as well as the sciences, began to flourish; and people
began to read books, books written by hand in elaborate manuscripts and
richly ornamented with gold and silver and the most varied illuminated
work. The classic authors of ancient Greece and Rome—long lost sight
of—had been rediscovered, and scattered memorials of ancient art came
to light, and were cherished by the finders with the fresh delight of
childhood enjoying new playthings.
In this movement Italy occupied the front rank. From his early youth
Matthias was drawn by all the fibres of his heart towards the awakening
culture, the motto of which was to enjoy the beautiful. How thoroughly
he entered into the spirit of the rising glory of the new civilization,
is best shown by the fact that his Italian contemporaries praised
him to the skies as the whole-souled patron of science and art. In
the magnificence and the splendor with which he surrounded himself,
Matthias certainly exceeded all his contemporaries, not even excepting
the Italian princes, who were famous for their sumptuousness and their
appreciation of works of art, and of whom Matthias had, undoubtedly,
learned a good deal. The example set by the king influenced his
subjects, the chief prelates of the church, who had obtained immense
endowments from the first kings of Hungary, and the proud and rich
great lords. But none of them could approach the king in magnificence
or in refined luxury. His court was the gathering place of scholars
and artists not only from Hungary and Italy but from all Europe. To
them he assigned the highest places in the state, in the church,
and in the schools. From these scholars he selected his chancellors
and vice-chancellors, his treasurers and sub-treasurers, the royal
councillors, his son’s tutor, men employed to read to him, his
librarians, court historiographers and secretaries, all of whom were
munificently rewarded for their services.
Nor was it necessary for a scholar to have a fixed position at court in
order to secure a rich income; his very presence at court was supposed
to give him a valid title to a compensation. Theologians, philosophers,
poets, orators, jurists, physicians, and astronomers came to admire
the renowned court, and remained there to add to its brilliancy, to
amuse the king, and to be the recipients of his munificence. These
men were treated by the king as his friends and companions and led a
comfortable, and, frequently, a luxurious life. They had their abundant
share in the good cheer of the table, and in the pastimes and honors.
The frequent discussions of scientific and literary questions, which
arose in such a circle, produced, especially when peaceful seasons
intervened for a time, a busy scholarly life at court, of which the
king, who was fond of taking part in the conversations, was the
bright centre. He was himself proficient in the lore of his age. It
is true that his youthful education had not been completed, for he
had been left an orphan at a tender age, and had soon been compelled
to exchange the games of youth for the cares of government, but his
great talents, his quickness, and the keen interest he took in every
thing, greatly contributed to make up for any deficiency in precision
of knowledge. He had a retentive memory and rarely forgot what he heard
in conversation, and probably a large part of what he learned came in
this way. It was also the fashion at that time for scholars to prolong
their discussions, after the fashion of the Greek gymnasiums, from morn
until night, and to appoint special meetings for special subjects. The
subject under discussion was pursued everywhere—at the table, during
the sports, in the reception room, the garden, and the fields. The
subjects were principally classical. Sometimes lectures were delivered
in the presence of the king or queen, as in the instance of Bonafini,
who visited the court in 1487. In order to get better acquainted
with him and to present him to the court, the king, who subsequently
appointed him his court historiographer, ordered him to deliver a
lecture at his palace, in Vienna, where he then happened to hold his
court. The whole court, together with the foreign ambassadors, appeared
on this interesting occasion. At the conclusion of the lecture the
writings of Bonafini were brought in and distributed amongst the chief
prelates and the magnates.
The court dinners afforded favorable opportunities for scholarly
discussions and conversations. A great number of guests had a permanent
invitation to the king’s table. Such were his near relatives, soldiers
of high rank, dignitaries of Church and State, foreign ambassadors,
and, especially, the scholars residing at his court. In an atmosphere
like this it was quite natural that the discourse should take a
lively turn, and include in its range both serious and amusing
subjects. The king himself enjoyed a world-wide fame for his ready
wit and attractive talk. He liked to propound riddles to his learned
friends, and at times would give them a great deal of trouble by
his cleverly-contrived oracular questions, particularly if he wished
to confound some braggart. He delighted in disputes, in which he was
seldom worsted, because he kept his temper to the last. But in most
cases the discussion was begun by his guests—the king only joining in
afterwards, and very frequently giving the decision. Some of his puns
and anecdotes are remembered to this day. The theme of one of these was
decidedly of a convivial nature. The discourse ran on eating, and the
question was mooted as to which was the best dish. The king quoted the
Hungarian proverb: “Nothing is worse than cheese” (_Habere nihil est
pejus caseo_). This, of course, was denied by many, who maintained that
cucumbers, apricots, and many varieties of fish were far worse than
cheese. Every one was amused when the king explained the double meaning
of the saying that “Nothing is worse than cheese” being equivalent to
“Cheese is better than nothing.” It happened, however, often enough
that grave scientific propositions or Scriptural themes were under
discussion, and, on such occasions, the king would send to his library
for books calculated to support the soundness of his statements or
argument.
This library was the king’s chief glory and pride. It contained on
his accession to the throne but a few volumes, but in the course of
time it so increased in the number of books as well as their value,
that it brought to the king even greater fame than his successes on
the battle-field—not only in the age he lived in, but during the
ages that followed. Over a hundred specimens of those books are still
in existence, and from these we can form an adequate idea of its
magnificence and richness. The library was in the castle of Buda, and
the place assigned to it comprised two large halls, provided with
windows of artistically stained glass, opening into each other. The
entrance consisted of a semicircular hall commanding a magnificent
view of the Danube. Both halls were provided with rich furniture.
One of them contained the king’s couch, covered with tapestry
embroidered with pearls, upon which he spent his leisure hours reading.
Tripod-shaped chairs covered with carpet were placed about, recalling
the Delphian Apollo. Richly-carved shelves ran along the walls and
were curtained with purple-velvet tapestry, interwoven with gold. It
would be difficult to describe properly the magnificence of the books
themselves. They were all written on white vellum and bound in colored
skins, ornamented with rose-diamonds and precious stones and with the
king’s portrait or his arms. The pages are illuminated with miniature
paintings and ornaments, vying with each other in excellence, and the
work of some of the most famous illuminators of the age. At the time of
the king’s death there were over 10,000 such volumes in the library.
The king permanently employed at his court thirty transcribers and
book-painters, and also gave occupation to Florentine and Venetian
copyists and painters, who sent the volumes when finished to Buda.
Although the art of printing had been already invented, yet its
productions appeared so primitive when compared with these splendid
works of art, that the collectors preferred having their books written
and painted by hand. It was, to be sure, much more expensive. King
Matthias spent over thirty thousand florins annually on his library, a
sum equivalent in present currency to considerably over half a million
of florins. He lavished larger sums even on architects, painters,
sculptors, carvers, and goldsmiths. A whole army of artists were kept
busy at his court, especially after his second marriage. During the
first years of his reign he was content with the edifices and art
memorials inherited from his ancestors, but the arrival of the new
queen entirely changed the old modes of life. The habits of life which
had been familiar in Italy long ago, with brilliancy, good taste, and
wit in their train, were now domesticated on the banks of the Danube.
The royal bride was a child of the sunny clime of Naples, a city which
was one of the first to foster the new civilization. King Matthias had
both the ambition and the ability to effect such changes in the royal
residence, before the arrival of his bride, as would make her feel at
home in Buda. Long before the new queen was to come, Buda presented
a busy scene. The royal palace was enlarged and embellished. Its
court-yards were beautified by bronze statues and sculptured marble
fountains, and the ancient plastering gave way to porphyry and marble
columns. The sides of the staircases were ornamented with frescoes,
and from the niches statues of antique style peeped at the passer-by.
Costly new tapestry covered the walls, and splendid carpets were
spread on the floor of the wide vestibules, stately halls, and roomy
chambers, which were filled with sumptuous furniture. The walls were
hung with paintings representing heroic events or themes from ancient
history or from the Scriptures. Modern carved furniture took the place
of the old pieces, and every thing seemed to breathe a new life and to
be rejuvenated.
The vaults gave up their old treasures, and new ones were added to
the collections. Immense buffets were groaning under the weight
of silver and gold, while antique gems, statuettes, and groups of
vases were displayed on small tables and in sideboards with glass
doors. The palace became a very museum of exquisite objects of art.
We can picture to ourselves the vast main hall of the castle, with
its peculiar mediæval splendor and brilliancy, in which the marriage
took place in December, 1476. The walls of the hall were tapestried
with silk interwoven with gold, and strewn with pearls and precious
stones, and over the table of the bridal pair a tapestry of sheer gold
came flowing down from the ceiling. In the centre of the hall, in
front of the king’s table, stood a buffet with four faces, each side
containing eight shelves loaded down with enormous silver pitchers,
cans, goblets, tankards, amphores, and glasses of every description. On
this buffet, alone, there were over five hundred vessels, besides two
unicorns, which ornamented the lowest shelf, and which weighed seven
hundred marks of silver. A gigantic fountain of silver of artistic
design, in the centre of the hall, spouted fiery wines. It was so
high that a tall man could hardly reach its top. Near the fountain
was a bread-basket of solid silver. Further on, silver casks were
suspended from the ceiling dispensing various wines. The hall contained
eight more tables, and by each stood a buffet weighed down by gold
and silver vessels. Over nine hundred vessels and plate of all kinds
were arrayed on the shelves of these buffets without being used. The
vessels and plate on the table of the royal couple were all of pure
and massive gold. Nor were the other palaces or summer residences, in
which the court dwelt, inferior in splendor. The permanent seat of
the court was the castle of Buda, but it was frequently shifted to
Visegrád, Tata, Presburg, and Vienna, everywhere displaying the same
pomp and sumptuousness. These royal residences appeared like real fairy
castles, with their hanging gardens, fountains, fish-ponds, aviaries,
game-parks, small pleasure-houses, arbors, and statues. Visegrád,
became especially famous. One of the papal legates, a man of taste
and education, and a great lord, used to sumptuous living, speaks
of Visegrád, in a communication to the Pope, as an earthly paradise
created anew by the hands of King Matthias.
[Illustration: JELLACHICH SQUARE, AGRAM.]
Within this brilliant network of royal palaces pulsated the busy court
life, with a frequent exhibition of exceptional gayeties and splendid
feasts. The court was always thronged with the relatives of the king,
with captains of the highest rank, and with hundreds of courtiers, from
the chancellor down to the humble attendant, and great lords and high
prelates, with their courtly trains, gathered around the king, hoping
for advancement of one kind or other. The court was also a favorite
resort for foreign diplomatists, who came for the purpose of settling
questions relating to politics, church, or family concerns, and
delivering messages of respect and homage to the king, whose strong arm
was able to restrain and check the Turks, the Germans, and the roving
bands of marauders. By degrees the Hungarian court took on a European,
or cosmopolitan air, becoming more and more refined, gaining also the
repute of being a seat of classical learning and culture. There was
both compliment and truth in the remark made to King Matthias by his
antagonist, Uladislaus, the Czech king, at one of the brilliant feasts
given by the former: “Your Majesty, it is difficult to triumph over a
king who is the possessor of so much treasure.”
It was a great misfortune that Matthias died without leaving a son to
succeed him, for all the accumulated splendor and culture vanished
with the king who had introduced and developed them. It was at the
zenith of his glorious career, while he was pondering on far-reaching
plans for the future, that death surprised him. On Palm Sunday of the
year 1490 he attended divine service, and, on returning from church,
he was suddenly seized with extreme lassitude. He at once called
for figs. They were brought, but on finding them mouldy, he angrily
rejected them. Soon after he was overcome by dizziness, and a fit of an
apoplectic character deprived him of the power of speech and memory. He
expired on the 6th of April, after an illness prolonged for two days.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XI.
THE PERIOD OF NATIONAL DECLINE, AND THE DISASTROUS BATTLE OF MOHÁCS.
We are now approaching one of the darkest pages in the history of
Hungary. The nation which but thirty-five years before had occupied
a commanding position in the world, had, within that short space of
time, sunk so low as to become merely a bone of contention for foreign
princes. The concluding act of that sad era was the calamitous battle
fought on the field of Mohács, where were expiated the many national
sins which had brought about this sorrowful state of things.
The period following the death of the great king was marked by feeble
rulers; by hierarchical chiefs, unmindful of their duties; by an
oligarchy acknowledging no restraints; by a military organization
rotten to the core; and by discontented subjects. So rapidly did the
fame of the nation decline that we find Erasmus of Rotterdam envying
their king, Louis, the possession, not of his kingdom, but of an
eminent teacher (Jacob Piso) then living there. The power of the king
was even at a lower ebb than that of the nation. We find, for instance,
John Szapolyai (or Zápolya), the head of the oligarchy, daring to
attack King Uladislaus at the latter’s own palace at Buda, in order
to force from him the hand of Anna, his daughter. King Louis, the
successor of Uladislaus, was told to his face by Thomas Bakacs, one of
his councillors, at a meeting of the National Assembly, that, unless
he acted according to the wishes of his councillors, and listened to
their advice, they would drive him from the country, and elect another
king in his place. These incidents clearly denote the character of the
rulers, and of the leading men of the nation, whose province it was to
defend the country against an enemy which the great Hunyadis themselves
had hardly been able to withstand, namely, the Turkish power, and
the ruinous effects of their misrule became evident soon enough. In
rapid succession followed one loss of territory after another, coupled
with loss of prestige abroad, and civil strife within, and shortly
afterwards came the crowning disgrace of the Turkish yoke. It is but
right to add that this melancholy period was not quite barren of good
men, who both knew and strove to do their duty, and it will be a
grateful task to make honorable mention of these noteworthy exceptions.
The partisans of four hostile candidates met on the 17th of May,
1490, on the field of Rákos, for the purpose of electing a king of
Hungary. The National Assembly, at that period, greatly resembled
the popular meetings held by the conquering Hungarians under the
Árpáds. They gathered on horseback, numbering many thousands, on
some extensive plain, taking counsel with each other, or, rather,
listening to the utterances of their party leaders. These assemblies
continued their so-called deliberations at times for many weeks, and
their attendance entailed no little expense to those taking part.
Many of them came with a large retinue of servants, and it frequently
happened that the poorer members, the so-called middle, running short
in provisions and money, were compelled to leave for their homes before
the deliberations were concluded. This was precisely what happened on
the present occasion. The powerful magnates purposely wasted time by
delaying the deliberations, and thus compelled the smaller gentry to
withdraw. Before leaving, however, these last elected sixty members
from their number, who were to remain as representatives, but it was
of no avail, for their party was defeated, owing to the withdrawal of
such large numbers. This time the stratagem of the oligarchy proved
more successful than at the former election, when, as we have seen, the
impatient smaller gentry, who were greatly in the majority, succeeded
in electing their candidate, Matthias Hunyadi.
Of the several candidates, John Corvinus, the son of King Matthias,
had few adherents and many enemies. It was accounted a crime in him
that he was not descended from a queenly mother. Beatrice, the widowed
queen, was especially opposed to his election. She could not bear the
idea of her husband’s son ascending the throne. She flattered herself,
besides, with the hope of being able to retain her regal position
by the election of a prince who would make her his queen. With this
view she became the partisan of Maximilian, the son of the emperor
of Germany, and advanced his interests with the passionate vehemence
characteristic of the Italian blood which ran in her veins. Her
partiality for the imperial prince, however, soon gave way to feelings
of disdain, upon being addressed by him, in one of his letters, as
his “dear mother,” and she transferred her affections to Ladislaus
(styled by the Hungarians, Uladislaus), king of Bohemia. Her new
favorite was descended, through the female line, from the Árpáds. The
wealthy and influential magnates were also on his side, but with them
the fact chiefly weighed in his favor that he was understood to be a
kind-hearted, gentle, and feeble prince, whom it would be easy for them
to govern. Both Báthory and the oligarchy wanted no king but a royal
tool. Albert, the brother of Uladislaus, was the fourth aspirant for
royal honors.
The States-General not being able to agree upon any one of the
candidates, they at last resolved that he who should obtain the vote
of Szapolyai, governor of Vienna, should become king. This decision
greatly elated the party of John Corvinus, for as soon as they learned
that the election of their candidate depended upon Szapolyai’s
decision, they felt assured of his triumph. They could expect no less
of the man who, from having been twenty years ago a common trooper—at
Visegrád—had been raised to his present exalted position by King
Matthias. Szapolyai received in Vienna the deputation which had come to
invite him to elect the king. In the consciousness of his power, the
proud upstart lifted up his little boy, who afterwards became king of
Hungary, and placing him upon his knee, said: “Wert thou, my boy, but
that tall, I would make thee king of Hungary.” This unscrupulous man
was not inclined to obey a master, and, knowing that he himself had
no chance of royalty, he preferred a weak king, such as he believed
Uladislaus to be, and, in consideration of a large reward, he sold to
him the throne.
The result of the election greatly disappointed and surprised the
middle classes. John Corvinus himself was at first at a loss how to
act, but finally determined to retire to the southern part of the
country and to take with him the crown of St. Stephen, which was in his
hands. Six thousand men ready to do battle for his cause accompanied
him, and an occasion for the display of their zeal soon presented
itself through the treachery of Stephen Báthory and Paul Kinizsy. These
faithless favorites of the late King Matthias had promised him, on his
deathbed, to stand by his son, and now, instead of redeeming their
sacred obligation, they turned traitors to the cause they had vowed
to defend. They were the first to assail the son they had promised
to support. They came up with him in the county of Tolna, scattered
his troops, and not only took from him the crown, but robbed him also
of his personal treasures. John Corvinus himself became afterward
reconciled to the new order of things, and, at the coronation, it was
he who presented the crown to his more fortunate rival. A deputation
was sent to Uladislaus, to invite him to the throne of Hungary. He
received them most graciously, kissing each of them in turn, and crying
with joy. In the month of August the newly elected king made his
triumphal entry into Buda, accompanied by a gayly dressed cavalcade,
and no one could have anticipated that the brilliant pageantry
displayed on that occasion would be followed so soon by a series of
humiliations terminating in a national tragedy.
The remaining rival candidates, however, were not disposed to consider
their cause as lost. Each of them wanted his share of the kingdom,
which was now become an easy prey to its neighbors, and the borders of
Hungary on the east and west were simultaneously crossed by enemies. A
few months had hardly elapsed since the death of Matthias, the great
king, and Albert, Duke of Poland, brother to Uladislaus, was already
laying waste the country to the east as far as Erlau (Eger), while the
horsemen of Maximilian were tramping at Stuhlweissenburg over the grave
of Matthias, and making booty of his treasures. Uladislaus remained
inactive in the face of these outrages committed by Maximilian. He
finally concluded a most humiliating peace (which to him seemed
advantageous), by the terms of which all the former conquests of
Matthias were to revert to Maximilian. The true patriots blushed at the
news of the disgraceful treaty, and all the comfort they could obtain
from the king was his favorite ejaculation, “Dobzse, dobzse.” (It is
all well, it is all well.)
Whilst the country was pursuing its downward course, the Czech
attendants of the king were incessant in their clamors against poor
Hungary. They complained that if they did not wish to starve they would
soon have to leave the country. The king himself had not money enough
at his disposal to provide for the ordinary expenses of the royal
household. And yet the taxes were as high, and even higher, than during
the reign of Matthias; nay, the chronicles of the time tell us that
the people were better off under that Matthias who arbitrarily imposed
taxes, than now under Uladislaus. In truth, the many burdens which
were now weighing down the people were owing to the desire of many in
high places to enrich themselves. The disorders of the time afforded
a rare opportunity of doing so with impunity. It happened, though, at
times, that the mismanagement of such greedy men would leak out, as in
the case of Lukács, bishop of Csanád, and Sigismund Hampr, bishop of
Fünfkirchen (Pécs), who were both treasurers of the realm, and whose
fraudulent transactions were discovered. But the king was too weak to
visit their crimes with condign punishment, and amongst the great of
the land none were disposed to throw the first stone at the criminals.
The impotence of the king caused the decline of the national strength,
the ruin of the finances, and, as a natural consequence, the complete
disorganization of the military institutions.
In this connection we have to record a strange encounter which took
place in 1492 in the vicinity of Halas, in the county of Pesth. Paul
Kinizsy, the terror of the Turks, the general who had grown gray on
victorious battlefields, met there, in hostile array, the army he
himself had formerly commanded, the famous “Black Guard” of Matthias.
This very army, with their brave old leader, had a few months earlier
repulsed the Turks near Szörény. After this victory the soldiers
demanded the pay which had long been in arrears. As usual on such
occasions, tumults and disorders broke out in consequence of this
failure to keep faith with the troops. The wisdom of the Hungarian
National Assembly knew no better remedy than to instruct Kinizsy to
march against the exasperated men. The old general obeyed orders. Seven
thousand men were massacred, and the remainder, flying to Austria,
dragged out their weary lives as robbers, constantly at war with
the law. This cruel and impolitic measure deprived the nation, at a
time when she was preparing for the life-and-death struggle against
the formidable power of the Turks, of one of her main supports, in
destroying that army which alone could have saved her. For Kinizsy, the
former miller-boy, this was the last campaign, for very soon after he
was stricken with paralysis and deprived of the power of speech. His
contemporaries saw in this a punishment decreed by Providence for the
part he had played on that bloody occasion.
The better part of the nation soon grew restless under this state
of things, and a party arose which was hostile to the king. Stephen
Verböczy was the leader of the new party. He was a thorough patriot and
a skilled jurist, well versed in legislation. He was highly esteemed by
the middle class, in whom he saw the only element which would restore
to his country the universal respect she formerly enjoyed. This party
aspired to the government of the land, and their choice of a ruler
fell on Stephen Szapolyai, the son of John Szapolyai. If Stephen had
not been, in 1490, still a child, his father would then have made him
king. That he should become king was the highest ambition of his mother
Anna, Duchess of Teschen, a woman more ambitious even than her son, and
of whom it is said that she invariably concluded her daily devotions
with a special prayer to God, asking that she might be permitted to
live to see her son ascend the Hungarian throne. Szapolyai himself
did not consider it an arduous task to accomplish this, for he argued
that it was a precedent in his favor that Matthias, who was of no more
exalted origin than himself, had become king. His partisans first tried
to attain their end by marriage, and with this view Szapolyai asked
of Uladislaus the hand of the young Duchess Anna. Uladislaus refused
to accede to his request, and sought protection against the vaulting
ambition of the national candidate in an alliance with the emperor
Maximilian. The idea of a treaty of marriage between the two reigning
dynasties was broached. The national party answered by convoking the
National Assembly on the field of Rákos and passing the important law
that, in case of the extinction of the male branch of the dynasty, they
would elect a native king only. In the meanwhile Szapolyai renewed his
wooing, and he was all the more confident of accomplishing his object,
as Uladislaus was then seriously sick and still remained without any
male issue. But Uladislaus could not be moved to reconsider his
refusal. He told Szapolyai that he trusted to God that he would recover
his health, and that a male child might yet be born to him. Nor was
he disappointed in his hopes. He regained his health, and shortly
afterwards his queen bore him a boy who reigned, at a subsequent date,
under the title of Louis II.
Uladislaus now perceived the bearing of the Rákos resolution and, in
consequence, entered into a new treaty with Maximilian. Under its terms
Ferdinand, a grandson of Maximilian, was to marry Uladislaus’ daughter
Anna, whilst another grandchild of Maximilian, Mary, was betrothed to
Louis, the boy just born. By virtue of this treaty Ferdinand, Archduke
of Austria, took possession of the throne of Hungary after the fatal
day of Mohács. This new alliance, however, did not deter Szapolyai from
his bold purpose. Twice again he tried to gain Anna’s hand, forcing
his way into the presence of Uladislaus, but it was all in vain. His
partisans now began to meditate the policy pursued by them later on,
namely, to resort to Turkish friendship for assistance. The present
state of things had become so intolerable, that the national party
recoiled from no measures, however extreme, to bring about a change.
One day a wicked hand sped two balls into the palace of Uladislaus; the
king escaped, but to this day the suspicion of the foul deed rests on
the adherents of Szapolyai.
The desperate contentions of the two parties gave frequent rise to
lawlessness and stormy scenes. The nobility laid waste each other’s
estates and often even took unlawful possession of them. In this way
many a castle which John Corvinus had inherited from his father passed
at that time into the hands of Szapolyai. Duke Ujlaky ventured even to
molest the royal domains, and upon being called to account for this
by the king, Ujlaky disdainfully styled him an ox. The offended king,
in order to avenge this affront, sent an army against him under the
lead of Bertalan Drágfy, the vayvode of Transylvania, with the message
that the king’s second horn was now growing, and that henceforth the
king would fight his unruly subjects with two horns. Szapolyai, the
palatine of the kingdom, offered to intercede; the intercession,
however, being nothing but a cloak to incite the people to rebellion
against Uladislaus, the latter was compelled to yield, and to pardon
Ujlaky. A most disgraceful brawl, such as is usually witnessed only
amongst the drunken rabble, took place in the very presence of the king
in the royal council-chamber. George Szalkán, the primate of Hungary,
allowed himself to be carried away, during a heated discussion with
Christopher Frangepán, to such an extent as to seize the latter by the
beard, whereupon he was struck in the face by Frangepán. The king,
by personally interfering, put an end to these most unparliamentary
proceedings.
A dangerous movement was at this time gaining strength throughout
Europe. The peasantry, weary of the servitude in which they were
held, resorted to arms against their former oppressors. In Hungary,
especially, this movement assumed ominous proportions. The rebellion
broke out in 1514, and was commonly called either the Kurucz rebellion,
from the fact that those who took part in it were originally intended
to be soldiers of the cross (cruciferi), or, after the name of their
leader, the Dózsa rebellion.
Julius II., one of the most distinguished popes, died at Rome in 1513.
Amongst the aspirants to the papal see we find a Hungarian archbishop,
Thomas Bakacs. He is said to have spent fabulous sums in the eternal
city to further his object. In order to ingratiate himself with the
populace he had his horses’ feet shod with silver shoes, but so loosely
that they were dropped on the road and picked up by the people. Being
unsuccessful at the papal election, he begged of the new pope, Leo
X., to be allowed, as a solace for his disappointment, to organize a
crusade against the Turks on his return to Hungary. The arrival of
Bakacs was the signal for a fierce struggle in the ranks of the Diet.
A portion of the oligarchy, who hoped to derive some profit from this
venture, warmly advocated his scheme, while by others, who were too
much burdened already, it was violently opposed. Stephen Telegdy, the
keeper of the treasure, stood at the head of the latter and threw
the whole weight of his authority into the scale in order to prevent
the passing of the law sanctioning the crusade. He vividly pictured
the miserable condition of the peasantry, and resolutely objected to
providing them with arms, saying that it would be equivalent to arming
their own enemies. The law was passed in spite of this remonstrance,
and the crusade was proclaimed on the 16th of July, 1514.
The condition of the Hungarian peasants at that period was a most
wretched one. Those who inhabited the border were beggared by the
incessant plundering expeditions of the Turks, while the remainder
fared hardly better at the hands of their lords. Their masters
were always in need of large sums of money to cover their enormous
expenditures. A German contemporary, who lived for some time in
Hungary, wrote of the landed gentry that they were in the habit of
spending whole nights in riotous living, and passing the days with
sleeping off the effects of their nocturnal orgies. The money required
for this mode of life had to be wrung from the hard labor of the poor
peasant, who was also weighed down by other burdens. The Hungarian
nobility enjoyed privileges only; their shoulders knew no burdens. It
was the peasantry who paid all the taxes, who had to pay out of their
hard-earned farthings tithes to support the clergy; and over and beyond
all this, they had to provide for their lords and masters. The peasant
had to till the soil if he did not wish to starve, and in time of war
he was compelled to ransom himself from military service. Against
oppressions on the part of his lord he had no remedy, for his master
was his judge. The lords’ tribunal sat in judgment over the peasant,
and it can be easily imagined what kind of justice was meted out to him.
Such was the sad condition of the peasantry when the crusade was
proclaimed. No wonder that the oppressed peasants flocked in great
numbers into the camps ready to exchange the abject drudgery of their
daily life for the perils of crusading. A large portion of the
nobility were from the first arrayed against this movement, all the
more so as it happened during the season when there was most work to do
in the field, and it was very difficult for them to get along without
the laborers. The peasants looked with indifference upon the distress
of their masters, and deserted them in daily increasing numbers to
take up the holy cross. Bakacs had already provided a leader for them,
singling out for that position a simple gentleman from Transylvania.
His name was George Dózsa, a name which, coupled with a doubtful fame,
will, nevertheless, continue to figure for all times in the history of
his country. Hungarian historians of our days are fond of ascribing to
him high and patriotic schemes, and love to portray him as a hero in
the cause of liberty and one animated by a lofty spirit. Yet, if we
attentively scan his actions, we are compelled to admit that he was
little better than a brave and desperate peasant, whose whole conduct
proves him to have bitterly hated the nobility. Nor was he indebted to
any great qualities for the distinction he had won. His chief merit
consisted in being a bold man, of a fine and martial appearance, in
possessing a voice fit for command, and in having a few years before,
in a skirmish, cleft in twain a Turkish pasha. The officers placed
under him were for the most part poor nobles like himself, together
with a few citizens from Pesth, and a certain Lawrence Mészáros, a
priest from Czegléd. In a few days there were collected at the camp
of Pesth no less than 40,000 men, who were to be marched against the
Turks. But the army did not need to go so far to find an enemy—namely,
their old oppressors, their Hungarian masters. The more hot-headed
amongst the peasants were haranguing the others with vehemence,
exciting their passions. Their chief, Dózsa, was himself swept into the
new movement. Bakacs himself became terror-stricken at the direction
things were taking. He called upon Dózsa to lead the army to their
place of destination, and as the latter hesitated to obey, he was
placed by this high church dignitary under the ecclesiastical ban.
Dózsa, in answer to the archbishop’s anathema, changed his programme,
and led his men against the nobility. The struggle was short but
bitter. It was fear rather than the badly armed troops of peasants
that, at first, defeated the great nobles. As soon as the first
shock was over, every member of the nobility felt that to avoid the
general ruin of all, they must stand together, in a well organized
force. They gathered under the leadership of Stephen Báthory, the
chief Comes (count) of Temes, and Nicholas Csáky, bishop of Csanád,
but were destined to meet with yet another defeat. The cruelties then
perpetrated by the blood-thirsty peasantry beggar all description.
They overran the whole country, burning one castle after another, and
massacred, by the light of the flames, all the noblemen with their
families who were so unfortunate as to fall into their hands. Stephen
Telegdy, who had so vehemently opposed the crusade, himself lost his
life in this shocking manner, and Nicholas Csáky was captured on the
battle-field, and was, to the delight of the whole camp, killed with
torture.
Dózsa now proceeded to lay siege to Temesvár. He had singled out this
fortified place as the point from which he would conquer the country
for his peasants, but at this very spot he had to learn by painful
experience that it was not an easy task to cope with the established
power, no matter how demoralized for the time it be. The factions,
admonished by the common peril, ceased for the time their party
strife, and the chief Comes of Temes, a partisan of the king, did
not hesitate to invoke the support of John Szapolyai, the vayvode of
Transylvania, who was the leader of the national party. The vayvode,
together with a strong force of the yeomanry of Transylvania, came to
his assistance, and the struggle soon approached its termination. At
the first engagement the army of Dózsa was utterly defeated, those who
survived were scattered, and the leader with a few of his companions
was taken captive. The savage work of retaliation now followed. The
vayvode Szapolyai was the president of the tribunal. The victory he had
achieved raised his authority with the nobility, who looked upon the
late struggle as a war waged for their extermination, and he thought
it would add to his glory if he presented to the excited nobles a
harrowing spectacle. Mercy was shown only to Gregory, the brother
of George Dózsa, inasmuch as he was merely beheaded. The remaining
rebel leaders, including Dózsa, were thrown into prison, and were
not permitted to taste any food for a fortnight. Nine of them still
remained amongst the living. Dózsa was seated on a red hot iron throne,
a red hot crown was placed on his forehead, and a red hot sceptre
forced into his hand. Not a murmur of pain escaped him during this
dreadful torture. Only when his famished companions in arms rushed upon
him and tore the charred flesh from his body to appease their craving
for food, he exclaimed: “These hounds are of my own training.” This was
the end of one of the episodes of this sanguinary domestic war. Four
months of civil strife had cost the country the lives of 50,000 men. At
a future period, not very distant, the nation might have made a much
better use of these lives, but there seemed to be a fatality impelling
the people to become their own destroyers. The Hungarian popular
feeling has always sympathized with the peasantry in this bloody
rebellion. Thus the story is, to this day, current amongst the people,
that, as often as the Lord’s body was raised, during mass, Szapolyai
became maddened for a few minutes, because by his deeds he had rendered
himself unworthy of beholding the sacred host. History, on the other
hand, still cherishes the names of John Gosztonyi, bishop of Raab, and
Gotthard Sükey, a captain from Pápa, of whom it is recorded that in
order to scatter the peasantry with as little bloodshed as possible
they loaded their guns with grass and rags instead of cannon balls.
The 50,000 victims, however, did not suffice to appease the vindictive
spirit of the victors, for in their opinion the crimes of the peasantry
called for a sterner expiation. The crime of the fathers must be
visited on all generations to come. The Diet, which met on the 18th of
October, 1514, seemed to think that the peasants had been treated too
mildly, and that all of them deserved death. The wise fathers of the
land reflected, however, that if all were exterminated no one would be
left to work for the nobles and to provide them with food and drink.
They therefore let mercy prevail—but mercy as they understood it was
the most refined cruelty. The peasants were to be allowed to live, but
their life should become a calamity to them. The perpetual servitude of
the peasantry was proclaimed, and it was ordained that they should be
chained down to the soil.
This iniquitous law was passed and sanctioned by the king on the
19th of November, on the same day that he confirmed the celebrated
_tripartite code_ compiled by Stephen Verböczy, the Chief-Justice of
the land. Truly a most remarkable contrast in legislation. On the one
hand, a code which established law and order in the kingdom; on the
other hand, the most inhuman measure in European history dictated
by savage vindictiveness. Verböczy’s tripartite code, or, as its
title runs, “Decretum _tripartitum juris consuetudinarii_,” is the
most famous and the most important work of Hungarian jurisprudence,
shedding also an interesting light on the social condition of the
country at a remoter period. The _tripartitum_ is a strong advocate of
the privileges and immunities of the nobility. It establishes equal
rights for all the members of the Hungarian nobility, acknowledging
no difference between them except on grounds of personal merit. Every
Hungarian noble accordingly was entitled to the privileges accorded
to the whole body; he could not be deprived of his liberty without
due conviction; above him there was but one lord and master, and that
was the king, and he was exempt from taxation. It further limits the
authority of the clergy over lay nobles, and denies the right of the
Pope to the disposal of church benefices. After endeavoring in this
manner to claim for the nobles independence as to those above them, the
code at the same time tries to enlarge their rights as to those below
them. The recent uprising of the peasantry offered a good opportunity
for this tendency. It says: “The recent rebellion, aimed, under the
pretext of a crusade, against the whole nobility, and led by a robber
chief, has, for all days to come, put the stain of faithlessness on
the peasants, and they have thereby forfeited their liberty and become
subject to their landlords in unconditional and perpetual servitude.
The peasant has no sort of right over his master’s land save bare
compensation for his labor and such other reward that he may obtain.
Every species of property belongs to the landlords, and the peasant has
no right to invoke justice and the law against a noble.” This was the
view taken by the nobility at that period, a view which they succeeded
in forcing upon the feeble king.
The king, indeed was indifferent to the political and social changes
which injured the best interests of the nation. His main purpose
was to secure the throne to his family, and as long as he succeeded
in this all the rest was “_dobzse_” to him. He had his sickly son
crowned when he was but an infant of two years, and obtained for him
the powerful protection of the imperial family. In 1506 his queen,
Anna of Candal, an intelligent and energetic woman, the niece of
Louis XI., King of France, died. The sorrow of the widowed king was
boundless; for days he remained in his rooms weeping and moaning. Ten
years later he followed the queen he had so much mourned, and his son,
Louis II., succeeded him. Louis was a mere boy, but ten years old,
when he ascended the throne, and his youth was another misfortune to
the weakened and divided country. The events of his reign are usually
summed up in one sentence: “He was prematurely born, married young,
ascended the throne young, and died young.” We shall, however, devote
a larger space to this kind-hearted but unfortunate youth. Louis, as
was stated, came prematurely into the world, and it required all the
skill the medical science of the time afforded to keep alive the royal
infant, who hardly breathed when he was ushered into the world. For
weeks he was kept lying in the warm carcasses of animals slaughtered
and cut open for that purpose, and in this manner was saved from death.
But little attention was paid to his education during his father’s
life; it is reported that at a later period he blamed the latter for
his neglect, and strove hard by redoubled exertions to make up for
lost time. Although prematurely born he developed quite early in life,
and was a tall and strong youth at the time his father died. Cardinal
Thomas Bakacs, John Bornemisza, the castellan of Buda, and George
of Brandenburg, Margrave of Anspach, were, by the king’s last will,
appointed his guardians. George became the ruin of the ambitious
young king. The good lessons taught him by Jacob Piso, his excellent
teacher, were set at naught by this guardian. He was not actuated by
sinister motives in spoiling his ward; his conduct was the effect
rather of a life-long habit of riotous living, of which he could
not divest himself, and it was no wonder that the youthful king was
quick to imitate the unworthy example. The more serious studies soon
gave way to amusements of all kinds, and the boy-king spent his life
in riding, hunting, and feasting, as long as his means would allow.
Some of the frolicsome eccentricities recorded of him best illustrate
his giddiness. He had among his courtiers a man named Peter Korogi,
whose indestructible stomach was far-famed for its utter want of
squeamishness. It was his great delight to summon before him Korogi,
and see him devour living mice, cats’ tails, carrion found in the
streets, and inkstands with the ink in them. Poor Korogi lost his life
afterwards at the battle of Mohács.
A glance at Louis’ court and at his personal surroundings will suffice
to give us a picture of the condition of the country. Uladislaus had
already repeatedly complained that but a small portion of the revenues
of the state ever reached his hands, and that his income during three
years did not amount to as much as King Matthias used to spend on
his clerks. Louis, who, besides, had to defray the expenses of his
education, fared infinitely worse. He had to put off from day to day
his journey to Prague, the capital of his Bohemian kingdom, because he
was unable to procure the funds necessary for his travelling expenses.
Things came to such a pass that the king could not provide decently
for the royal table, which was all the more unfortunate for him, as he
boasted of an excellent appetite; his contemporaries relating of him
that when his resources permitted, seven meals were daily served at his
court. His penury finally reached such a point that he lacked the means
of paying the wages of his household servants, and then it was that
a certain sum was set apart for royal expenses, to be paid into the
hands of the treasurer and not of the king, a contrivance which was of
little avail, the treasurers themselves being untrustworthy. King Louis
remained as poor as he was before, and we read that at a reception
given to the ambassadors of foreign powers, where the most brilliant
display would have been in place, the young king sat on his throne in
dilapidated boots. In spite of his poverty Louis found a way to indulge
in pastimes and to squander money. At a time when they write of him
that he could not call a sound pair of boots his own, he remitted to
one of his courtiers a debt of 40,000 ducats in exchange for a trained
falcon. George of Brandenburg wrote on one occasion that although the
court was dreadfully poor, yet they managed to carouse all the time.
These entertainments were marked by scenes and occurrences which but
ill comport with the dignity of a court. The king was excessively
fond of amusements, and on one occasion he wrote three months before
the carnival: “Wherever we shall happen to be, even on a journey, we
intend to make merry and to pass gayly our days.” The carousing at
the court, however, was not confined to the carnival season, for we
read that on the very eve of the battle of Mohács, the king and queen
were enjoying themselves right royally. The queen, too, was fond of
gayeties. No one would have foretold of her that she should ever become
so versed in matters of state. The difference between Mary the queen
and Mary the widow might well elicit universal surprise. The eventful
battle of Mohács sobered her. While her husband lived she so freely
entered into the pastimes and frolics of the king that the partisans
of the king himself were compelled to remind her more than once of the
rules of decency and propriety.
A fierce struggle ensued between the oligarchical and the national
party as to who should be selected for the royal council. This rivalry
sprang by no means from patriotic motives, or from a desire to serve
the country in the royal councils, but from the more sordid aim of
making use of the royal authority to extend and increase their personal
power and influence. The party leaders were still the same. Szapolyai
and Verböczy stood at the head of the middle-class party, whilst the
royal party, led by Báthory, made common cause with the Fuggers. The
Fuggers were the Rothschilds of the sixteenth century; they had amassed
immense wealth in Hungary by advancing at first an inconsiderable sum
to the king, and obtaining for it the privilege of working the mines.
They fraudulently exported from the land all the gold and silver
obtained from the mines, while of the money advanced by them but very
little got into the king’s hands, as it had first to pass the hands
of middle-men, who managed to keep large portions. In this way can it
be accounted for that Thomas Bakacs’ household was far more lavish
and brilliant than that of the king himself, and that Count Alexius
Thurzó, being in collusion with the Fuggers, was enabled at one time
to advance to the king 32,000 florins. Emeric Szerencs’ name figures
most conspicuously amongst these money manipulators. He was a converted
Jew, occupying a prominent position, and who subsequently became
treasurer of the state. While he was never able to procure money for
the treasury, he succeeded in constantly adding immense sums to his own
fortune. The people at last rose against the unscrupulous treasurer,
and attacked Szerencs in his own palace. He saved himself only with
great difficulty from the fury of the populace by escaping through a
window to which a rope ladder was attached.
The party of the nobility was at last victorious. At the Diet assembled
at Hatvan 14,000 nobles assumed such a menacing attitude towards
the government that all its members were compelled to give in their
resignations, and Stephen Verböczy was elected by the triumphant party
palatine of the kingdom. John Szapolyai became treasurer. To what
extent the treasury was better managed under his direction it would be
difficult to determine, for the sad fact remained that the treasury
still remained empty, and that the new treasurer was constantly adding
to the number of his estates and increasing his domain. The magnates
as well as the burghers clearly saw that nothing had been gained by
the change effected in the administration. They therefore combined to
restore the former government, and were headed by the great nobles who
had been deprived of their offices—Báthory, the late palatine, and
Alexius Thurzó. The league is known in Hungarian history under the
name of the “_Kalandos_” Society—the word “kalandos” having in the
Magyar language the meaning of “adventurous,” but in truth the word
was derived from the “_Kalends_,” the society being in the habit of
meeting on the “Kalends,” or first of each month. This patriotic band
of would-be saviors of their country went on with their intrigues even
after the news had arrived of another Turkish inroad threatening the
country. The league at last succeeded. At the Diet convoked in Buda
they reinstated their party in power. Verböczy himself was not slow in
perceiving that he had been used by Szapolyai merely as a tool, and,
refusing to be an instrument in his hands, he resigned the dignity of
which he had been already deprived by the Diet. In order to save his
life he fled to Transylvania, but he could not prevent the Diet from
declaring him to be an enemy to his country.
Báthory occupied again his former position of a palatine, and announced
his programme in these brief words: “We are not the cause of the ruin
of the country”—a very strange assurance on the part of the councillors
and leading statesmen of Louis II., coming too at a time when they were
menaced on all sides by approaching perils. This conduct occasioned
the papal nuncio’s remark that “they were playing comedy with their
mutual protests.”
The Reformation added a new complication to the many dividing the
nation, being a fresh source of discord amongst the people. This mighty
religious movement spread as far as Hungary about the same time that
it had won a large territory for itself in Germany. Here as there its
adherents met with persecutions at the hand of the Roman Catholic
Church. The new faith, although it had not gained large numbers, soon
found its martyrs in the country. Both of the political factions were
equally guilty of these persecutions, and we find a telling proof of
this in the fact that Verböczy as well as Báthory, the respective
palatines of the hostile parties, each had his share in the executions
of the Protestants who laid down their lives for their faith. While
Hungarian blood was thus shed by the Hungarians themselves, their
proud neighbor, Sultan Selim, the mighty ruler of the Turkish empire,
had registered a vow before Allah, in case he would vouchsafe victory
to his armies over Persia, to build for his worship three magnificent
mosques—one in Jerusalem, another in Buda, and a third in Rome. The
sultan vanquished the Persians, but was prevented by death from
fulfilling his vow. In Hungary they made merry, drinking death to the
Turks, and little dreaming that the new sultan was destined to inflict
upon them soon a most deadly blow.
Solyman the Magnificent succeeded the fierce Selim. He combined in
his person the talents of a great warrior, a great legislator, and
a great theologian. It was not long before the Hungarians themselves
offered him an excuse for waging war against them. On his accession to
the throne he had sent an ambassador to Louis II. for the purpose of
prolonging the peace between them. The overbearing Hungarian nobles
did not so much as enter into a parley with the envoy, but threw him
into prison, dragged him with them all over the country, and finally,
after cutting off his nose and ears, sent him back to his master. This
dire offence against the law of nations, and the unprovoked insult
to the sultan in the person of his representative, could not be left
unpunished. Solyman swore he would be avenged for this affront, and
vowed he would get possession of that Belgrade which at one time
had maintained its independence against the warlike genius of a
Mohammed II. “He attacked simultaneously two of the strongest border
fortresses—Shabatz and Belgrade. The king was just then too busy with
his wedding with the Austrian princess Mary to allow himself to be
disturbed by the hostile inroad, nor did his chief councillors take any
heed of it. Báthory, the palatine of the kingdom, was also celebrating
his nuptials, whilst Chancellor Szalkay’s attention was entirely
absorbed by the administration of the bishopric of Erlau that had been
recently bestowed upon him.
Shabatz stood under the command of Simon Logody and Andrew Torma, both
men of great heroism and rare courage. They shone out as conspicuous
exceptions in this corrupt age. They preferred to face certain death
rather than save themselves by deserting the fortress entrusted to
their care, and solemnly swore to be true to the cause of the country
unto death. They and their brave garrison kept their oaths faithfully;
of five hundred men, but sixty were left on the 16th day of the siege.
These sixty men were drawn up in soldierly array on the public square
of the fort to receive the last assault of the Turkish army, and not
one of them escaped with his life. Six weeks later Belgrade, the famous
scene of Hungarian heroism, was taken by the Turks, and it is not
often that an enemy achieved as easy a victory over such a stronghold
as this border fortress as the Turks secured on the 29th of August,
1521. Francis Hedervári and young Valentine Törok had been entrusted
with the defence of Belgrade. These selfish nobles, unmindful of their
sacred duties, left Belgrade and proceeded to Buda, in order to obtain
from the government repayment for the expenses already incurred by them
for the maintenance of the fortress. Failing in their errand, they
did not return to their trust, but left the garrison, numbering seven
thousand men, to themselves, under the command of their subordinate
officers, the brave Blasius Oláh, and the treacherous Michael Moré.
Their desertion sealed the fate of this fortress. Moré became a
traitor to the cause of his country; he deserted to the enemy’s camp,
and, betraying to the Turks the weak points of the stronghold, he
endeavored, at the same time, to prevail upon Oláh to aid him in his
wicked designs. The patriotism of the latter, however, was proof
against all the allurements of the tempter. The fall of the fortress
was, nevertheless, unavoidable. The number of the garrison had dwindled
down to seventy-two men, when a squabble ensued between those of
them who were Hungarians and those who were Servians, which ended in
their compelling Oláh to surrender the fortress. By the terms of the
surrender the garrison was allowed to leave the fortress unmolested,
but the Turks interpreted this clause in their own way. They were
permitted to march into the Turkish camp, but on their wishing to leave
the camp they were all of them massacred.
The fall of Belgrade spread terror all over the country—all the more as
it was entirely unexpected, and certainly might have been prevented.
Báthory, the palatine, and John Szapolyai stood, each with a great
army, not very far from Belgrade; but these noblemen, obeying only the
dictates of their mutual hatred, would not join their armies, and truly
says the poet Charles Kisfaludy, that the deepest wounds inflicted upon
the poor country were “no, not by her enemies, but by her own sons.”
Louis himself was roused from his lethargy upon hearing the sad news.
He upbraided his councillors for neglecting to warn him of the dangers
menacing the country, and for not having taken measures to avert them;
nay, in his exasperation, as we are informed by his chaplain, he
struck one of his councillors, Bishop Szalkay, in the face. Repentance
was now too late, and the impending catastrophe seemed unavoidable.
It is true that the Hungarians achieved one more victory in the
Hungarian Lowlands. Paul Tömöry, the newly appointed archiepiscopal
captain-in-chief of that section, defeated Ferhat Pasha on the field
of Nagy-Olasz, in Syrmia. But the passing glow of this success left no
permanent effects; three years later the Turks were more formidable
than ever to Hungary.
While the Hungarian Diet was the scene of fierce discussions, Francis
I., King of the French, smarting under the defeat he had suffered at
the hands of the Emperor Charles V., stirred up Solyman against Hungary
and the Hapsburg crown-lands, in order to effect a division of the
imperial army. In this scheme Francis I. succeeded so well that in the
month of August, 1526, an army exceeding 300,000 men, with 300 cannon,
under the lead of Solyman, was invading Hungary.
The news of Solyman’s approach found the country unprepared. The
treasury did not contain money enough to pay the messengers, still
less to organize an army. A requisition of the gold and silver plate
and vessels of the church was of little avail, for what little could
be collected, owing to the resistance of the clergy, was appropriated
again by the nobles, who were charged with the duty of coining them
into money. Caspar Serédy owed his wealth to such transactions.
In soldiers they were even poorer than in money. The sultan was already
crossing the southern frontier, and not a soldier was near King Louis.
The cities bought their exemption from military service with money,
and the great nobles were dilatory. The king finally marched alone
against the enemy. The guilty were seized with shame at this noble
example, and about the beginning of August four thousand men had
already rallied round him. He was steadily proceeding southward and
reached Mohács in the latter part of August. The army had swelled by
this time to twenty-five thousand men, but it wanted a commander, and
there was not in the whole country a single general capable of wielding
large forces. The king, under these circumstances, had no other choice
but to appoint, as commander-in-chief, Paul Tömöry, whose victory
achieved over the Turks was still fresh in memory. Shortly afterwards
the Turkish army, which had occupied Peterwardein (Pétervárad) a few
days before, made its appearance. A serious discussion arose now
whether the Hungarians should stand a battle, or, retreating first,
join the army of Christopher Frangepán, coming from Slavonia, and that
of John Szapolyai, marching from Transylvania. Tömöry was in favor
of accepting battle at once, and was sustained by the king. Francis
Perényi, the witty bishop of Grosswardein, on seeing that Tömöry’s
counsels had prevailed, is reported to have said: “The Hungarian nation
will have twenty thousand martyrs on the day of battle, and it would
be well to have them canonized by the pope.” The battle took place on
the 29th of August, on a fine summer’s day. The Hungarians formed in
battle array early in the morning. The king, surrounded by his lay
and ecclesiastical magnates, occupied the centre. A thousand mailed
horsemen were around the king, and in their midst John Drágfy, the
Chief-Justice of the land, waving high up in the air the national
banner. Seated on a white horse, he wore no spurs, according to the
ancient custom, implying that flight to him was impossible.
Báthory, afflicted with the gout, rode with the king along the line
of each troop, addressing words of encouragement to the men. The
whole army impatiently looked forward to the moment when the battle
should begin, and, finally, at five o’clock in the afternoon the Turks
advanced. It was remarked that the king, on the silver helmet being
placed on his head, became deathly pale, as if in anticipation of
the near danger, but while it shocked the attendants, it by no means
disheartened them.
The first onslaught came from the Hungarian horse, who rushed upon
the enemy in front of them and drove them back. The Turkish troops
thus attacked retreated without offering any resistance to the body
of the army. The Hungarians, shouting victory, pressed on in hot
pursuit, little dreaming that they were running into the jaws of sure
destruction. The retreat was but a feint, for when the Hungarian army
had been drawn on near enough to the Turkish centre, the retreating
troops opened their ranks, and, through the gap left open, three
hundred cannon and several thousand Janissaries poured a murderous fire
on the advancing troops. The slaughter was dreadful; a large portion of
the troops, including their commander and their standard bearer, fell
at the first fire. The rest fled in every direction, but were greatly
impeded in their retreat by a violent shower of rain which suddenly
burst on the fugitives, among whom was also the youthful king. As he
was trying to cross the Csele, a small brook, swollen by the rain, the
horse, after reaching the opposite bank, stumbled backward into the
waters below, and buried his rider under him.
The prophecy of Perényi was fulfilled. Twenty thousand martyrs strewed
the field of Mohács, and among them was the witty prophet himself. The
Hungarians paid the heavy penalty of thirty-six years’ misrule and
disorder, but the worst was yet to come. On the 10th of September there
passed again a brilliant procession through the gates of Buda. This
time it was not the crowned king of Hungary who made his entry into the
fortress, but Solyman, who delivered it up for pillage to his soldiers.
On this occasion was destroyed the famous library of Matthias.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XII.
THE TURKISH WORLD AND THE RISE OF PROTESTANTISM IN HUNGARY.
While Islam was rapidly losing ground, and hurrying to irretrievable
destruction on the peninsula south of the Pyrenees, it obtained a fresh
foothold on another southern peninsula of Europe, in the regions of the
Balkan washed by the Mediterranean Sea, and became there so powerful
as to influence, for nearly five centuries, the political destinies
of the Western world. At the same time that the power and culture of
the Moorish state was declining in Spain, Europe found itself assailed
by another Mohammedan nation, the Turks, who, taking up the standard
of the crescent, attempted to force upon the Christian world their
new ideas, religious, political, and social. On the first appearance
of the Turks on the Balkan peninsula, they were met by the two states
which opposed their further advance, and the struggle with these began
at once. The first, the Byzantine empire, was, however, at this time
already an effete and tottering organization, an ancient and venerable
ruin, and it was able to make but a feeble resistance. It retreated
step by step before the Asiatic conquerors, who got possession, first,
of its entire outlying territory, and finally captured (in 1453) the
seat of government, Byzantium, the renowned city of Constantine. The
second opponent which withstood the advance of the Turks was Hungary, a
state which, though still young, had shown a sturdy national vitality,
and successively reduced to vassalage the countries of the Balkan, and
was steadily engaged in extending its influence and authority towards
the East. The Turks could not dispose of Hungary as easily and quickly
as of the enfeebled Byzantine empire. More than a century of nearly
constant conflict had to elapse before the Hungarian supremacy in the
regions of the Balkan was put an end to, and the Turks were able to
penetrate as far as Mohács, and there to inflict a mortal blow on the
independence of Hungary. During this struggle of a century and a half
the name and fame of Hungary were perpetuated by many a brilliant feat
of war, and by many glorious victories, and when John Hunyadi, the
most formidable foe of the Turks, died, all Europe mourned his death
as the loss of the great champion of Christianity. His son, Matthias
the Just, one of the greatest kings of Hungary, whose memory is held in
pious reverence by the Hungarian people to this day, following in the
footsteps of his illustrious father, through his many triumphs, made
his own name, too, hardly less formidable to the Turks. But Hungary,
as the offspring of the Western Church, the Church of Rome, turned her
looks, at that time, to the West rather than to the East, and Hungarian
statesmanship was far more intent upon humiliating the emperor of what
was then known as the Roman empire, than upon breaking down the power
of the Turks. King Matthias captured Vienna, and made large conquests
at the expense of the German empire, but he chastised the Turks only
now and then, and never seriously thought of endeavoring to thoroughly
crush the Turkish power. Under his feeble successors, the Turks, who
easily recuperated from the losses of single battles, grew into a
formidable power, which soon brought Hungary to the verge of ruin. We
have described, in the preceding pages, the fatal battle of Mohács,
fought on the 29th of August, 1526, in which the youthful King Louis
II. opposed an army of hardly 25,000 men to Solyman’s 300,000, to be
swept away by the torrent of overwhelming numbers. To give an adequate
idea, however, of this awful catastrophe in the annals of Hungary, we
will add here that seven bishops and archbishops, thirteen lords of the
banner, five hundred magnates, and many thousand nobles laid down their
lives on the bloody battle-field.
The nation was seized with indescribable terror on learning the details
of this dreadful calamity; entire villages were deserted by their
inhabitants, who scattered in every direction. The widowed queen,
finding herself utterly deserted in Buda, fled to Presburg, and the
capital of Hungary, one of the finest cities of Christendom, which
but a little more than a generation before had been made one of the
chief centres of European learning and culture, passed, in less than
two weeks after the fatal day of Mohács, without any resistance, into
the hands of the victorious Solyman. The Turks sacked and set fire
to the beautiful city, and all its magnificent buildings, save the
royal palace, were destroyed by the flames. The victorious enemy met
with as little opposition in ravaging and massacring in the country
as they had encountered at the capital. There was no one to stay
their devastations. The miserable peasantry still made some feeble
attempts at defence; here and there a few thousand men collected at
some fortified position to protect themselves and their families. Thus
some 20,000 men retreated into the Vértes mountains, and, under the
leadership of Michael Dobozy, entrenched themselves near the village of
Marót, in a camp fortified by a barricade constructed of wagons. But
the Turks had their guns carried up to the nearest eminence, and opened
a fire on the occupants of the improvised wall. The peasants were
struck with terror, and the undisciplined boors, the wailing women and
children, deserted their sheltering wagons in despair. Dobozy, seeing
that all was lost, mounted his gallant steed, and placing his young
wife on the saddle before him, he sought safety in flight. The elated
Turks fell upon the flying Hungarians, frightfully massacring their
ranks. Among the fugitives, Dobozy especially attracted the enemy’s
attention, owing to the superiority of his armor, indicative of gentle
blood, and more particularly because of the young woman he carried in
his arms. They pursued him like bloodhounds. The distance between the
pursuers and pursued gradually diminished, and Dobozy’s horse began to
show signs of exhaustion under the double burden. Wife and husband saw
the fierce forms, eager for prey, draw nearer and nearer. Still there
was a gleam of hope for them if they could reach the near brook, cross
the bridge, and destroy it before their pursuers came up with them.
They succeeded in gaining the bridge, but, alas, the flying peasants
had already broken it off, and there was no other thoroughfare to the
opposite bank.
All was lost now. Dobozy told his wife to fly by herself, whilst
he would remain and stay with his own breast the progress of their
pursuers. But the young spouse would not part from her loving husband,
not even in death, and besought him to kill her rather than to expose
her to the chance of falling into the hands of the pagan enemy. The
desperate husband, seeing the Turks quite near to them, stabbed
his youthful wife with his own dagger, and then, turning upon his
adversaries, dearly sold his life. The spot where Dobozy and his
faithful wife lost their lives is, to this day, called Basaharcz (the
Pasha struggle).
The immense Turkish army spread all over the country, everywhere
plundering, ravaging, and destroying defenseless lives, and reducing,
in a war of a few months’ duration, the population of the country by
nearly 200,000 souls. The capital in ruins, hundreds of other places
deserted and laid waste, the country without a king, the church without
any higher clergy, the greater part of the nobility, used to arms,
killed—such was the condition in which Hungary was left by the Turks at
the departure of Sultan Solyman. In October, 1526, he left the doomed
country, having first laden his ships, sailing for Constantinople, with
the treasures of the palace of King Matthias—its rare curiosities, its
bronze statues, and a portion of the famous Corvinian library.
The fatal day of Mohács had entirely overturned the order in the state,
and amongst the magnates who survived it party strife soon broke out.
One party, acting upon the conviction that enfeebled Hungary was unable
to resist, unsupported, the overwhelming power of the Turks, elected a
Hapsburg archduke, Ferdinand of Austria, a brother of Charles V., the
Roman emperor, king of Hungary, and since that time the royal crown
has, in fact, remained in possession of the Hapsburgs. It was through
this dynasty that the Hungarian people endeavored to secure the aid
of the German empire against the Osmanlis. But another party amongst
the great lords pursued an opposite course. In their opinion a native
dynasty and peaceful relations with the invincible Turks were the means
of rescuing the country from her pitiable plight. These patriots,
therefore, elected as king of Hungary, John Szapolyai, the vayvode of
Transylvania, and the most powerful lord in the country, and thus the
nation had now two kings in the place of the one who had fallen at
Mohács.
But neither of these parties nor their royal representatives could save
the country from the Turks; on the contrary, the continual rivalries
between the two kings not only demoralized public virtue and upset all
law and authority within the kingdom, but they assisted not a little
the foreign enemy in getting into their possession, by slow degrees,
the larger part of Hungary, and enabled the Turks, within a brief
period, to float their crescent on the towers of Buda, and there, to
the ruin of the nation, and to the perpetual terror of the Christian
world, it continued to wave for nearly one hundred and fifty years. The
history of the Hungarian nation during this entire period is sad in the
extreme—a tragedy, the scenes of which are supplied by an uninterrupted
series of trials and sufferings. Owing to the incapacity of the leading
statesmen and generals, the ruin of the country became more and more
irretrievable. Yet, however dark and forlorn this period may seem,
the national sufferings of those days are relieved and brightened
by the glorious heroism and patriotism displayed by the people. The
Hungarians, although menaced, in their very existence, by many enemies,
by party strife, and religious dissensions, exhibited such rare moral
courage, heroism, devotion, self-denial, and manliness, that the memory
of the generations of that melancholy era will remain forever hallowed.
Heroes arose on every side, and the struggle, sustained by the nation
for nearly a century and a half against the oppressive power of the
Turks, reminds one, in many of its features, of the protracted contest
between the Spaniards and the Moors, and, like it, abounds in poetry,
romance, and those noble examples of patriotism and loftiness of soul
which kindle the human heart, arouse the sympathies of the poet, and
are treasured up by the piety of after-ages as glorious relics of the
past.
Solyman’s ambitious schemes looked for still wider fields of conquest,
and in 1529 he marched towards Vienna, in order to attack King
Ferdinand in his own capital. The city, however, was successfully
defended. In 1532 Solyman advanced again upon Vienna. The sultan’s
progress was unopposed until he reached Köszeg (German, Güns), in the
neighborhood of the Austrian frontier. The keys of sixteen fortresses
and fortified cities lay at his feet; Köszeg alone refused to do
homage, and arrested the sultan’s triumphal march. Michael Juricsics
was its commander; he was just about to remove his small garrison,
consisting of twenty-eight hussars and ten cuirassiers, to Vienna,
for whose defence all the available forces were being called in, when
the Turks appeared beneath the walls of Köszeg. On beholding the
approach of the immense Turkish army, Juricsics took a bold and noble
resolution. He determined to hold the fortress, and to die rather than
surrender it to the enemy. He immediately took measures to defend the
place; he repaired the walls and bastions, armed seven hundred peasants
who had sought refuge in the city, and purchased with his own money
gunpowder and provisions. The Turkish army arrived under the walls of
Köszeg on the 5th of August, 1532; a few days later the sultan himself
joined them, and the siege was prosecuted at once with the utmost
energy. The outer fortifications had already fallen into the hands of
the enemy, the guns and mines had effected a breach sixteen yards wide
in the main wall of the citadel, of its seven hundred defenders half
had fallen, and on the 24th of August Juricsics had but one hundred
weight of gunpowder left. Yet the plucky reply he gave to the sultan’s
summons to surrender was: “As long as I live I will not surrender.”
The Turks thereupon directed a fresh assault upon the citadel, and
the garrison again lost many lives, while Juricsics himself was
wounded. The Turks pressed into the city, but the inhabitants, at
their approach, broke out into such dreadful howling and wailing
that the frightened assailants retreated, and the city was once more
miraculously spared. But Juricsics himself saw now the impossibility of
further resistance; he had no more gunpowder, and most of the garrison
were like himself wounded. For the purpose, therefore, of sparing the
lives of the remaining inhabitants, he finally permitted the Turkish
flag to be hoisted over the city. Solyman, seeing the Turkish flag
floating over Köszeg, thought he had captured the citadel, and retired
from under the walls on the 31st of August. But it was not towards
Vienna that he directed his steps, but homeward. He had been delayed
nearly four weeks near Köszeg, and during this time a powerful army
had been collected in Vienna which the sultan had not the courage to
face. Juricsics had thus, by his heroism, saved Vienna from a siege,
the issue of which might have been calamitous to that renowned city of
Christendom.
Many were still found in other parts of the country to follow the
stirring example set by Juricsics, but unfortunately success but rarely
attended their devotion. Most of them were fated only to be martyrs to
the sacred cause, shedding their blood on the altar of their tottering
country. The farther the Turkish conquests extended the more precarious
and perilous became the position of the isolated commanders of the
Hungarian border fortresses. The safety of a whole territory or country
often depended upon the possession of one of these strongholds. Thus
were the wealthy mining towns and the entire Hungarian mining region
protected by the fortified place of Drégel, and it naturally attracted
the attention of the Turks, always thirsting for plunder, who hastened
to lay siege to it, hoping, by its possession, to open the road to the
mines. Gallant George Szondi, the commandant of the fortress of Drégel,
was a determined and magnanimous man who, fully conscious of the great
importance of the place, was ready to defend it with his life. The
fortress itself was not one of the first order, and was guarded only by
a small garrison.
In July, 1552, a Turkish army numbering about 10,000 appeared under the
walls. Ali, the Pasha of Buda, himself a chivalrous and noble-minded
soldier, stood at the head of the besiegers, and, under the fire of
his guns, the bastions crumbled to dust in the course of a few days.
When the great tower too, was but a heap of ruins, and the walls were
showing wide gaps everywhere, and all hope of being able to continue
the defence seemed to have vanished, Ali sent a message to the
commandant of Drégel. He employed a clergyman by the name of Márton,
the parish priest of a neighboring village, to go to Szondi and to
tell him that: “Ali reverently bowed before Szondi’s bravery and
determined spirit, the report of which had reached him long ago, and of
which he had had good occasion to convince himself during the present
siege, but as the position could be held no longer, Szondi ought to
preserve his heroic life and to surrender the crumbling fortress, and
if this were done free departure should be guaranteed for himself and
his people.” Szondi silently listened to the message of Ali, whom he
knew to be a noble and chivalrous foe, but manfully declined to lay
down his arms. He was resolved to defend the place to his last breath,
and rather bury himself under its ruins than negotiate with the enemy.
But he in turn asked now a favor of Ali Pasha, not for himself, but for
two youthful troubadours, two young bards who were in the fortress,
and for whom the Hungarian hero wished to provide before his death. He
had the youths dressed in purple velvet and sending them, under the
care of Father Márton, to Ali Pasha, he requested the latter to take
these youths—some say they were his own sons—into his service, as he
himself would not be able to bring them up, and to make brave men of
them. Then summoning into his presence two Turkish captives remaining
in the fortress, he bestowed upon them rich presents and allowed them
to depart.
As soon as Márton had left with his youthful charges Szondi felt
that the supreme moment, the moment of a glorious death, was near at
hand. He ordered his money, his clothes, and all his valuables to
be taken into the courtyard of the citadel, and, for fear they might
fall into the hands of the enemy, he himself set fire to them and saw
them reduced to ashes. Then he directed his steps to the stables, and
thrust with his own hands his lance through his horses, his noble war
steeds. Hastening now to his few remaining soldiers he addressed to
them touching words of farewell. Outside, the approach of the Turks,
preparing for the assault and shouting Allah, was already heard.
Szondi, at the head of his two companies, rushed to the citadel gate
and there laid down his life after heroically defending himself. A
ball having penetrated his foot, the dying man sank on his knees and
continued the fight to his last breath. He was finally cut down by
the Turks, who surrounded him on all sides; his head was placed on a
lance and carried in triumph to the victorious Ali. The generous Turk
was deeply moved by this noble example of self-sacrifice, and, having
given orders to seek out Szondi’s body, he caused his remains to be
buried with great military pomp, in a neighboring hill. For a long time
the spot where Szondi was laid into the grave was marked by a pike and
a flag. One of the greatest poets of modern Hungary, John Arany, has
perpetuated Szondi’s story in a beautiful ballad, and contemporary
piety has just erected amidst the ruins of Drégel a chapel in memory of
the departed hero.
Stephen Losonczy, another Hungarian hero, who shared Szondi’s fate
a few days later, had no such noble opponent as Ali to deal with.
Temesvár, the largest fortress in the country, was entrusted to his
care. Fifty thousand Turks marched on Temesvár, and having quickly
reduced all the smaller fortified places and cities near it, they
reached the fortress in an over-confident mood. Losonczy immediately
sallied out to meet the enemy, and so intimidated them that they soon
gave up the siege and left the neighborhood. Yet only for a short time;
they returned in greater numbers under the leadership of Ahmed Pasha.
The latter at once called upon the Hungarian commandant to surrender
the fortress. Losonczy collected in the public square the garrison
which numbered altogether 2,200 soldiers, of whom 1,300 were Hungarians
and the remainder Germans, Czechs, and Spaniards, and asked them if
they were ready to defend to death the fortress in their charge. The
enthusiastic shouts of the soldiers—that they were ready to die rather
than yield up the place—was the answer he received. Losonczy at once
swore in his men, and immediately answered the summons of the Turkish
pasha by a sally from the fortress, driving the enemy from the vicinity
of the trenches.
The Turks now proceeded to lay regular siege to the fortress—a branch
of military science in which they were highly accomplished. They were
masters in the art of reducing fortified places, in the mining works,
and in the handling of the great battering guns. Thirty-six guns of
heavy calibre soon poured their shots into the fortifications, which
after a couple of days exhibited such breaches that the pasha thought
the time for an assault had arrived. Thousands of brave Janissaries
rushed at the tottering walls. There, however, they were met by the
guard, who, themselves ready to die, made a frightful havoc amongst
their assailants. The assault was repulsed in a few hours, the trenches
were filled with the Turkish dead, and many a distinguished bey and
officer of high rank was left lifeless on the scene of the sanguinary
contest.
Losonczy, however, saw that all the heroism of his soldiers was thrown
away if he did not receive aid from abroad. He therefore applied to
the commanders of the royal and Transylvanian armies for soldiers,
gunpowder, and other war requisites of which he had run short, but
could obtain nothing from them. In this strait he resolved to devote
his own fortune to the cause of his country, and wrote to his wife,
the high-minded Anna Pekry, who was outside the fortress, to turn all
he had into money, to mortgage his estates, and, with the funds thus
obtained, to hire soldiers, purchase munitions, and send them into the
besieged fortress. The generous woman was ready to bring any sacrifice
to assist her husband in his extreme distress, and, taking into her pay
five hundred volunteers (hayduks) whom she provided with the necessary
military equipments, she bade them march to the relief of Temesvár.
But the place was already completely invested, and the small troop was
unable to penetrate the strong blockading cordon of the Turks. The five
hundred hayduks were dispersed by the enemy, the gunpowder was taken
away from them, and now Losonczy gave up all hope of aid from without.
Yet the gallant commander never for a moment wavered in his duty. He
wrote, in one of his last letters: “We are patiently looking forward
to the moment when we must die,” and all he asked of the king was to
take care of his little orphans. The hour was not far off, for the long
siege had already exhausted their ammunition and provisions, and the
Turks were constantly renewing their assaults. Although the enemy lost
at times three thousand men in one assault, they returned each day in
still greater numbers and repeated the attack. St. Anne’s Day arrived,
the day of the patron saint of Anna, Losonczy’s wife, which in brighter
days he used to celebrate, according to ancestral fashion, by merry
carousing, but it was now a melancholy day for the brave commander.
The provisions and ammunition were all exhausted, and the Turks, after
immense losses, had finally succeeded in occupying the large entrenched
tower lying between the inner citadel and the town.
Hungry, without gunpowder, and with no hope of relief from abroad,
Losonczy’s soldiers began at last to mutiny, and, wishing to save
their lives, they insisted upon the surrender of the town. The Spanish
soldiers—the foreigners—especially demanded the giving up of the place,
while the Hungarians declared that they were still ready to follow
their gallant leader to death. The inhabitants of the town, reflecting
that by a capitulation they might save their lives and property,
whereas if the Turks entered the city by force of arms they would be
shown no mercy, finally sided with the Spanish party and were bent
upon making terms with the enemy. At first Losonczy would not hear of
yielding, but when Ahmed Pasha’s messengers appeared at the fortress
and promised every one safe departure, besides the right of taking
with him all his movables, the Spaniards compelled him to sign the
capitulation.
So the brave soldier at last gave up the struggle, and, troubled by
sad forebodings, he withdrew from the ruined fortress at the head of
his decimated troops, who were still fully armed. Outside the gate he
was received with military honors by the Turkish commanders. Losonczy
was proceeding on his good horse through the ranks of the enemy which
were in a line drawn up on either side, when suddenly there came from
the Hungarians in the rear shoutings and cries. He turned back and saw
that the Turks, in shameful disregard of the terms of capitulation, had
fallen upon his pages and were pillaging them. The old warrior could
not witness this disgrace unmoved; he drew his sword, once more the
war-trumpet sounded the attack, and he rushed to the rescue of his men.
The engagement became general and the small band was almost entirely
cut down. Losonczy fearlessly braved death, and, bleeding from numerous
wounds, was finally taken by the perfidious enemy, who, cutting off
the hero’s head, sent it as a token of triumph to Stambul. Thus, in
1552, passed Temesvár, one of the most important fortified places in
Hungary, into the possession of the Turks. It remained longer under the
Turkish yoke than any other Hungarian stronghold of importance, for
thirty years elapsed after the reconquest of Buda before it was again
restored to the possession of the king of Hungary.
Szondi and Losonczy might have been spared martyrdom if the
commander-in-chief of the royal army, who were all foreigners, had, in
their vanity, had the courage to attempt their rescue. They witnessed,
sunk in cowardly inactivity, the deadly throes of these heroes, and
looked on with indifference while one fort after the other was falling
into hostile hands. These foreign commanders, with their armies
composed of foreigners, were never able to cope with the Turks. If
they ventured to engage in a battle they were sure to lose it. In this
way can it be accounted for that in spite of the superhuman efforts of
the Hungarians who heroically battled for their country, the Turkish
conquests grew apace, and the flat portions of the land, the rich and
fertile lowlands, passed under the rule of the Osmanlis. Transylvania,
the eastern portion of the country, had struggled into a sort of
independence, and severing herself gradually from the mother-country,
had a separate state organization of her own under her native rulers,
so that Hungary may be said at this time to have been cut up into three
parts. The largest portion accepted the Turkish supremacy, Transylvania
asserted its independence, and the remaining and smallest division
acknowledged the kings of the Hapsburg dynasty, whose residence was
in Vienna. The German, Italian, and Spanish troops employed by the
latter, together with those by whom they were led, so far from being
instrumental in the liberation of the country, indulged in the same
licentious and lawless behavior as the Turks themselves. They were
utterly ignorant of the language, customs, and institutions of the
Hungarian people, and were entirely indifferent to the interests of the
country. These irresponsible military bodies harassed and plundered
the native population to such an extent that it was not long before
the Hungarians came to hate the foreign soldiery, and the Germans in
general, as much as they did the Turks.
But even during the most depressing days, and under circumstances of a
most desperate and hopeless character, the spirit of heroism did not
die out amongst the Hungarian people. Shortly after the reduction of
Temesvár the immense Turkish army marched against Erlau. Stephen Dobó
was the commandant of the latter place. He knew by the sad examples
of Losonczy and Szondi what was in store for him, and, although the
royal troops were near, he also knew, from experience, that he could
not depend upon any help from that quarter, and must needs look to his
own resources to stay the progress of the overwhelming forces of the
Osmanlis. “We expect aid from God only, and not from men,” he wrote at
the approach of the enemy. He immediately took measures to defend the
place; he laid in large supplies of ammunition, sulphur, saltpetre, and
provisions, sent his lieutenant, Mecsey, a soldier worthy of his chief,
into the adjoining counties to fire the hearts of the young men, and to
invite them to enroll themselves amongst the defenders of the fortress.
He made up his garrison of Hungarians only, knowing, from experience,
that the foreign hirelings could not be trusted. He had altogether
only nine guns and nine gunners, but he hurriedly drilled the students
and the more intelligent amongst the peasants in artillery practice,
and formed them into a separate corps of cannoniers. Having provided
every thing in time, and placing his trust in God and his own strength,
he calmly awaited the enemy.
No sooner had the immense Turkish army arrived, when Ahmed Pasha
summoned Dobó to surrender the fortress. Dobó collected about him
his men and publicly read to them the pasha’s letter. The gallant
Hungarian garrison shouted, as with one heart, that they would never
surrender the place. Dobó, his fellow-officers, and all the men, then
took a solemn oath to fight to the bitter end, and that, if any one but
breathed about the surrender, he should be hanged on the pillar of the
town well. As an answer to Ahmed’s missive, Dobó caused to be placed
upon one of the lofty towers of the bastion a large iron coffin with
two lances, one of them floating the Hungarian flag, and the other the
Turkish. This was to convey to the enemy that on this place either the
Turks or the Hungarians must perish, and in order to give weight to his
answer he sallied forth with part of his garrison that very night, and
brought away from the besiegers a great deal of booty.
[Illustration: HEROIC DEFENCE OF ERLAU.]
Ahmed retorted by opening a fire on the town and citadel from 120
guns, some of which sped balls of fifty pounds as far as the bastion,
but eighteen days elapsed before the enemy could summon up sufficient
courage to try an assault. It proved ineffectual, the assailants
being gallantly repulsed by the Hungarians. A few days later a great
calamity befell the denizens of the citadel. The powder magazine,
struck by a hostile ball, exploded, and a portion of the wall of the
citadel was thrown down by the explosion. Taking advantage of the
wild confusion the explosion had created amongst the garrison, the
enemy directed another assault against their works, but quite as
ineffectually as before. They were driven back; Dobó had the wall
repaired, and in the cellar vaults he established a gunpowder factory,
which proved sufficient to furnish the necessary supply.
After several unsuccessful minor attacks, the Turks prepared for the
great final assault. They came against the fortress in overwhelming
numbers on every side, and already the garrison began to show symptoms
of exhaustion and wavering. At that moment of supreme danger, however,
the gallant defenders of the citadel obtained help from quite an
unlooked-for quarter. Wives, mothers, and daughters armed themselves,
and rushed to the walls to fight by the side of their dear ones. Some
of these amazons robbed the dead of their swords, and rushed, thus
armed, where the enemy was thickest; others brought boiling water and
oil, and poured it upon the heads of those who attempted to scale the
walls; and, with the help of these brave women, the assault was beaten
back at the most dangerous points. The women of Erlau had a large share
in the saving of the city, and the fame of their heroic devotion still
survives in Hungary. The Turks were quite panic-struck; in one day
alone they lost 8,000 men: and the soldiers loudly declared that God
was fighting on the side of the Hungarians, and who could struggle
against God? After a siege of thirty-eight days, the Turkish army at
length withdrew, and Dobó and his brave men were left in possession
of the now ruinous citadel, thus preserving it for their country. The
glory of their daring deeds has passed into a common saying. Of any one
accomplishing a great deed, the people say: “He has won the fame of
Erlau.” The place, nevertheless, passed under Turkish rule in 1596, its
Hungarian commandant having been compelled by the foreign garrison to
capitulate.
In 1566 Sultan Solyman, who, though old, was still full of vigor,
placed himself at the head of a formidable army, and invaded Hungary
for the sixth time, his object being to take Erlau and, eventually, to
march against Vienna. On reaching, with his 200,000 men and 300 guns,
Hungarian territory, he was met by the news that Mohammed Pasha, his
favorite, together with his army, had been massacred by the Hungarians
at Szigetvár. The aged sultan desired to avenge this affront at once.
Szigetvár and its brave commander, Nicholas Zrinyi, had long since
been troublesome to the Turks. Zrinyi, the scion of a most ancient
family, had been engaged for years in constant fighting against the
Moslem power, during those periods even when peace was officially
established. His possessions and castles lay in the border territory,
and the fearless man was ever at war with the Osmanlis, making them
feel the weight of his irresistible sword. The storming of Szigetvár
had been attempted once before, but the enemy had been beaten back with
great slaughter. And now the great sultan determined himself to bring
him to terms, and to invest in person the small fortress. Zrinyi was
prepared for the worst, and calmly got ready to face the formidable
foe. Szigetvár was not a fortress of the first rank, but only one of
the minor strong places. The main feature of its strength was that it
lay almost entirely surrounded by lake and marsh, the only road leading
to the place being over the bridge communicating with the gate. In
front of the citadel, on an island, was the old town, and south of
it, on another island, the so-called new town. Szigetvár, therefore,
consisted, in point of fact, of three places, each fortified, but
differing from each other in the strength of their works of defence.
The two towns were, in reality, advanced fortifications of the fortress
itself. Without much aid from any quarter, Zrinyi undertook the defence
of this small place. His own money purchased the necessary ammunition
and military supplies; he filled the granaries with provisions,
produced on his own estates, and from his cellar came the necessary
wine. There was an abundance of provisions in the place, but there
were not soldiers enough. When it became quite certain that the sultan
was marching his whole army against Szigetvár, all Zrinyi could obtain
from the king, after repeatedly urging his want of soldiers, was the
permission to hire one thousand foot-soldiers. German soldiers, it is
true, were offered to him, but those he did not want, preferring to
select his troops from amongst the garrisons of his own castles, so
as to have only tried men by his side. All the force he could muster
to oppose to the hundreds of thousands of Solyman numbered, at the
highest, 2,500 men. He had 54 guns and 800 hundredweights of gunpowder,
and, what was worth more than all that, he and his men were inspired by
the sublime resolve, rather to die on the field of honor than to submit
to the cruel enemy, who had turned into a desert a large portion of
their beautiful country. His soldiers worshipped their heroic leader,
and enthusiastically pledged their devotion by oaths of fidelity and
obedience.
On the 31st of July, 1566, the advance guard of the enemy showed
itself. During the first few days several minor engagements took place,
but the siege began in real earnest on the 7th of August. On that day
the first assault was attempted; it was directed against the weakest
point, the new town, but it met with no success. A few days later,
however, Zrinyi himself deemed it expedient to give up the defence of
this advanced position, and, after having set fire to the new town
and reduced it to ashes, he abandoned it to the enemy. The besiegers
immediately occupied it and erected their batteries, protected by
bags and baskets filled with earth, and sacks of wool. The batteries
were hardly ready when the Hungarians surprised them one night and
destroyed them all. Chance, however, now favored the Turks. A drought
had prevailed during two months, and the terrain surrounding the old
town had become so dry, as considerably to facilitate the approach of
the enemy. The besiegers attempted also to drain the lake surrounding
the fortress, and planned to accomplish this by cutting through the
great dam around it, so as to provide an outlet for the waters. The
neighborhood of the dam became the scene of fierce struggles. The
position was heroically defended by the Hungarians, while the Turks
quite as heroically again and again returned to the attack. After a
sanguinary contest lasting the whole day, the Turks finally took the
old town on the 19th of August, and Zrinyi with his shrunken garrison
entirely withdrew to the citadel, after having demolished the bridge
leading to the old town.
Sultan Solyman, however, now thought that lives enough had been lost,
and he therefore tried to get possession of the fortress by peaceable
means. He tried Zrinyi with fair promises; he sent him messages that he
would make him prince of Dalmatia, Croatia, and Slavonia, and tempted
him with treasures and estates. Then he tried him with threats. The
enemy had captured one of the trumpeters of Zrinyi’s son, George. The
trumpet found in the prisoner’s possession had the arms of the Zrinyi
family painted on it, and Solyman sent this trumpet to Szigetvár as a
token that Zrinyi’s son had been taken captive, and threatened that the
prisoner would be cruelly executed unless the place was surrendered.
Neither promises nor threats were of any avail. Zrinyi did not for
a moment waver, but was steadfast in his determination to follow the
dictates of duty and patriotism alone.
The wrath of Solyman at the wearisomeness of the siege knew no
bounds. He had been patiently expecting day after day the reduction
of the place, and finally, tired of further delay, gave the order for
a general assault on the 29th of August. The superstitious sultan
thought this a particularly lucky day, for it was the anniversary of
the day on which he had taken Belgrade and of the battle at Mohács.
The aged ruler, who now, but rarely showed himself to his soldiers,
mounted his favorite charger and appeared amongst the Janissaries, in
order to rouse and encourage them. His troops rushed enthusiastically
into the fight, for which the artillery and the engineers conducting
the siege had made every preparation many days before. But Zrinyi
was ready and wide-awake, and drove the assailants back with great
slaughter. Aliportug, a Portuguese renegade, who was the enemy’s
most distinguished artillery officer and military engineer, and had
conducted the siege of Sziget, lost his life during this engagement.
The Hungarians, although they too had suffered severe losses,
celebrated their triumph with bonfires and feasting. They now fondly
hoped that their heroic resistance would at last induce the royal
troops to come to the relief of Sziget, and to attack the exhausted
troops of the sultan. Some negotiations to that effect had been carried
on, but the result was as usual; the German commanders allowed the
scanty garrison to perish.
The besiegers, after their last repulse, passed an entire week without
renewing the attack. They employed this pause to lay unobserved a
powerful mine under the walls of the bastion, which was fired by
them on the 5th of September. The explosion shattered the walls, the
bastion fell down, and a terrible gale carried the flames into the
citadel in every direction. All the buildings were soon on fire, and
the Turks too began a general assault. Hemmed in by the dreadful
conflagration and the storming enemy, the Hungarians finally yielded.
They retired from the outer fortification, and Zrinyi with his men—who
had dwindled down to a few hundred—withdrew into the inner or smaller
fort. Further resistance seemed now hopeless, yet Zrinyi did not think
of capitulating. The cannon-balls of the enemy set on fire the smaller
fort on the 7th of September. Zrinyi, in this extremity, had all his
valuables, his thousands of gold and silver, his precious vessels and
plate, brought into the public square of the citadel and cast into
the flames. He then divested himself of his armor and helmet, donned
a dolmány (a short jacket braided in front), and threw over it a
dark-blue velvet cloak, placing in each of his pockets a hundred ducats
as a reward to the man who should discover his dead body. He wound a
costly chain of gold around his neck, in place of his helmet he put
on his head a kalpag (a Hungarian fur cap), ornamented with a heron’s
feather and diamond rosettes, and, arming himself with a curved sabre
and a light shield, he took with him the keys of the citadel, to make
sure that they should pass into the enemy’s hands only upon his death.
In this attire he appeared before his men, who were assembled in the
courtyard. He addressed them in a speech full of his generous spirit,
“lauding them for their gallant conduct, which would earn for them
the respect of the Christian world and of generations to come. The
conclusion of their heroic career,” he added, “ought to be worthy of
their brilliant feats of the past. There is but one road before us,” he
continued, “that of honor; all the other courses are those of shame.
You must either meet with death here amid the flames, or must sally
forth, and, dearly selling your lives, die the deaths of heroes. Choose
between the two.” The kindling words of their leader did not fail of
their effect. At this supreme moment the people of Szigetvár, in their
exalted enthusiasm, thought only of their honor. The very women wished
to follow the men on this their last journey. Zrinyi had the bridge
lowered and was the first to advance upon it. Lawrence Juranics was at
his side carrying the large banner, and the other officers promptly
followed. About six hundred people joined the sally of their heroic
leader, who, after a fierce struggle, laid down his devoted life. Of
his companions-in-arms but few escaped.[*]
[*] See Frontispiece.
Thus, after a glorious resistance of over six weeks, did Szigetvár
fall into the hands of the Turks. Sultan Solyman did not see the
victorious end of the siege; he had expired a few days before in his
camp. The Turkish army returned home, and thus through Zrinyi’s noble
self-sacrifice was the entire campaign of the enemy rendered barren of
results. The formidable army which had menaced the whole country wasted
its strength at Szigetvár, and the capture of this fortress alone cost
the enemy 30,000 lives. Zrinyi’s heroic death roused the admiration and
sympathy of the whole European world, and his name became famous as one
of the martyrs of Christianity.
Nor were the muses silent, in the midst of the heroic combats which
marked this sad period. With so many inspiring themes presenting
themselves, the poet, the successor of the mediæval troubadour,
soon appeared on the scene to perpetuate in song the memory of the
glorious deeds. Among others was Sebastian Tinódy, who described in
verse some of the most glorious of the episodes in the sad chronicle
of the sixteenth century. He visited the scenes of the battles and
engagements, sought out the survivors or those who had taken a
conspicuous part, the captains and their brave followers, collecting
the incidents presented in his ballads. Tinódy did not confine himself,
however, to his lyre, but was also an adept in the use of arms, and
often took part in the contests of his time, and had more than once
been wounded. Another and even more interesting figure was that of
Valentine Balassa, who was as gallant a soldier as he was eminent as a
poet. His works, consisting in part of religious poems and partly of
lyric songs, have been, for three centuries, the favorite reading of
the Hungarian people. Some of his writings have, however, come down
to us in manuscript only, and present a most valuable example of the
poetic genius of the Hungarians of his time. Balassa lived a stirring,
eventful and dangerous life, which came to a glorious end on the field
of honor. At the storming of Gran, in 1597, he was among the Hungarian
besiegers, and the gallant poet received a wound during the engagement,
which soon proved fatal.
[Illustration: PASHA’S HOUSE.]
In the midst of these perpetual struggles and successive calamities
closed the sixteenth century, and began the seventeenth quite as
inauspiciously for the Hungarians. Until now they had cherished the
hope that the Hapsburg kings would rescue them from the cruel rule of
the Osmanlis. But after a lapse of seventy years they not only saw
their hopes of liberation from the hated yoke destroyed, but had the
mortification of witnessing the continual spread of the Turkish power.
Besides, a sharp antagonism of another kind gradually arose between
the nation and their king. The national spirit, in spite of the sad
condition of the people, asserted itself more and more, and frequently
came into collision with the foreign royal dynasty, whose seat of
government was without the frontiers of the country. This antagonism
was not only of a national, but also of a religious character, for,
while the largest part of Hungary was overwhelmingly Protestant, the
kings of this period were among the staunchest supporters of the
Church of Rome. In addition to this, the kings, who were at the same
time emperors of Germany, had brought themselves, by their autocratic
actions, into direct opposition to the constitution of the country
and to the rights and privileges guaranteed by law. As a consequence
a fierce constitutional contest was raging, during the whole of the
seventeenth century, between the nation and their kings, which quite
overshadowed the struggle against the Turks. In these contests the
Hungarian people leaned for support chiefly on the principality of
Transylvania, whose rulers, Stephen Bocskay, Gabriel Bethlen, George
Rákóczy I., not only made their comparatively small country the bulwark
of Hungarian nationality and of the Protestant Church, but raised her
to a position of exceptional influence in European politics.
Before continuing to sketch the period of the Turkish rule in Hungary,
we will take a rapid glance at the rise of Protestantism amongst the
Hungarians.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN PEASANTS IN AN INN.]
The fall of Luther’s hammer upon the door of the castle-church of
Wittenberg, as he nailed to it his famous theses, reverberated even in
Hungary, and produced an intense commotion in that distant country.
The period of the _renaissance_, the revival of art and literature,
had prepared all active and inquiring minds for changes in church and
religion. The country had maintained an active intercourse, political,
commercial, and cultural, with the western nations, and when Luther
began the great work in Germany, which was to mark a new era in the
history of the world, his ideas spread like wildfire all over Hungary,
and, especially, found favor amongst the German inhabitants, who formed
at that time an important element of her population. The cities of
Buda, Oedenburg (Soprony), Presburg, the wealthy mining regions in the
north, the Királyföld in Transylvania, were settled by Germans. Many
of their clergy, attracted by ties of national kinship had finished
their studies in Germany, and their merchants were closely connected
in business with those of the old fatherland. Owing to the intimate
relations thus established between the Germans of Hungary and their
brethren abroad, the teachings of Luther gained almost as rapidly
ground among them as among their countrymen in Germany, where the new
doctrines had first been promulgated. In the course of a few years the
new movement had assumed such formidable proportions that it attracted
the attention of the whole nation.
The Catholic clergy, threatened in their supremacy, were the first to
take the field in defence of the Church thus assailed. Round them very
soon rallied that class of the nation which, alone, enjoyed political
rights in the land, the entire nobility. In siding with the Catholic
clergy, in this conflict against the Reformation and its followers, the
Lutherans, the nobility were by no means actuated by religious motives
only. Their hostile attitude was rather owing to important political
considerations. The throne was then occupied by Louis II., who was of
Polish extraction, the same youthful king who, noted for his frivolous
character, expiated the errors of his reign upon the battle-field
of Mohács. This unfortunate ruler was personally as indifferent to
religion as to every thing else involving a serious turn of mind. But
his wife, Queen Mary, the sister of the German emperor, Charles V.,
was all the more enthusiastic in the defence of Luther’s teachings.
The queen and her German courtiers, by exerting a baneful influence
over the affairs of Hungary, had incurred the ill-will of the nobility,
which was identical with the national party. This party, with a view to
striking a blow at the German and Lutheran sympathizers surrounding the
king, enacted from the outset most rigorous laws against the Lutherans.
Thus, as early as 1523, a law was promulgated declaring Lutherans and
their protectors (clearly indicating by the latter term the German
courtiers of the king) foes to the Holy Virgin Mary, the patroness of
Hungary, and as such, punishable with death and confiscation of their
property. The persecutions against the adherents of the new faith
began immediately. Luther’s works and writings, which had been largely
imported into Hungary, were seized and consigned to the flames. The
Reformation, nevertheless, steadily gained ground.
In the diets which, owing to the attacks threatening the country
from abroad and troubles at home, were then held three or four times
annually, the national party, headed by John Szapolyai, one of the
most powerful lords of the land, was constantly urging the cause of
the Catholic Church. But there were other political reasons, besides
their antipathy to the German courtiers, which determined the national
party to persist in their antagonism to the new faith. The Osmanlis
were continually harassing the southern frontiers, and the country was
always on the brink of a war with them. The nobility, representing the
nation, felt instinctively that a catastrophe was near at hand, which
Hungary, by her unaided strength alone, would be unable to avert. They
had to look for foreign aid, and effective help from abroad could
be expected only from the two most powerful rulers in Christendom,
the pope and the emperor of Germany, both of whom were Luther’s most
determined opponents. They succeeded in securing the good-will of the
pope, who, having no armies at his disposal to aid Hungary, assisted
the country by abundant supplies of money. In return the nobility
deemed it their sacred duty to keep a faithful watch and ward over the
interests of the Catholic Church, and, in order to do so effectively,
they inaugurated relentless measures against the Lutheran heretics.
In 1525 another law was passed against the votaries of the new creed,
ordering their extermination throughout the country, and declaring that
Lutherans, wherever they were found, should suffer death by fire. This
cruel law began its abominable work, and the funeral stakes soon sent
forth their lurid flames. The religious persecutions thus inaugurated
hastened the downfall of the Hungarian kingdom.
The dreadful catastrophe at Mohács, in 1526, forced Hungary into
untrodden roads, not only politically, but also in the matter of
religion. The death of her king, and the slaughter of so many prelates
and of thousands of nobles, on the fated battle-field, gave a violent
shock to the organization of both state and church, and rendered easy
the further extension of the Reformation. Many of the great lords
and nobles, who hitherto had been the most ardent supporters of the
Catholic Church, speedily became, from political motives or private
interest, zealous apostles of the new faith, so that the doctrines
of Luther, before principally confined to the inhabitants of the
cities, now found many adherents among the magnates. The bondmen,
too, who, even in matters of religion, were compelled to obey the
behests of their masters, embraced the religion of their lords. As
a consequence, the victory of the Reformation became, a few decades
only after the battle of Mohács, complete through the larger part of
Hungary. The doctrines of Luther had paved the way for the teachings
of Calvin. The latter, owing to their puritanic spirit and democratic
tendencies, which suited the rooted predilection of the Magyar race
for self-government, spread mostly over the Hungarian section of the
country. The religion of Calvin, or the Helvetic confession, had
such a hold upon the Hungarian-speaking population that it was soon
designated by the special name of the Hungarian faith, while the
Lutheran tenets were held chiefly by the German denizens of the cities
and the Slavic inhabitants of the upper country. The ancient Roman
Church was confined to a comparatively small territory, and during the
seventeenth century hardly numbered one seventh of the population.
One of the most shining pages in the law records of Hungary—an
enactment granting to the two Protestant churches equal rights with
the Catholic Church—is connected with the name of Stephen Bocskay.
Although the Catholic Church had, during the sixteenth century, lost
most of its followers, yet legally, and owing to the circumstance that
the Hapsburg kings were the most zealous propagators of the Roman
faith, it continued to be the only recognized church, and to exercise
an unduly preponderating influence in public life, which, at that
time, bore an exclusively religious impress. The Hungarian magnates
and noblemen, then almost all Protestants, under the leadership of
Prince Stephen Bocskay, took up arms against this privileged position
of the Catholic Church, as well as in defence of the laws of the
land, and succeeded in obtaining, in 1606, at the peace of Vienna, a
law whereby perfect equality between the Protestant churches and the
Catholic Church was established. This great victory, achieved by the
Protestants, had the effect of rousing the Catholic Church to energetic
action. The anti-reformation movement began in Hungary, as it had
already all over Europe, and produced, under the direction of Cardinal
Peter Pázmány, the archbishop of Gran, in a comparatively short time,
the most surprising results. In the course of a few decades, the most
influential and leading families of the aristocracy returned to the
fold of the Catholic Church.
The mass of the people, however, the nobility, the inhabitants of the
cities, and the peasantry, still remained Protestants, and when the
Transylvanian princes, Gabriel Bethlen and George Rákóczy I., were
about to engage in war against the Hapsburgs, they readily rallied
around these bearers of the standard of the national faith. The
peace of Linz, a confirmation of the treaty of Vienna, was concluded
under Rákóczy, again solemnly proclaiming the perfect equality of
the Protestant churches with the Roman Catholic Church, an equality,
however, which, in point of fact, was never put into practice. The
written law and their good right was of no use to the Protestants, for
the power was gradually slipping from their hands. Under the patronage
of the royal court, the anti-reformation movement had made great
conquests amongst the lower classes of the people, and sometimes by the
use of violence, sometimes by other means, whole districts and large
territories again became Catholic. Elated by these successes, the court
of Vienna for a long time ignored its promise of freeing the Hungarian
people from the Turkish yoke, and about sixty years elapsed without
any hostilities against the sultans. The chief endeavor of the court
was forcibly to deprive the Hungarian nation of her constitutional
institutions which were based upon her nationality, and to subject
to imperial absolutism the people, jealous of their liberties and
accustomed to freedom. These unconstitutional proceedings on the part
of the government produced popular risings and party strife, and were,
in their sad consequences, fatal to thousands of fanatics, spreading
misery and poverty even to those parts of the land which, from their
geographical positions, had been exempt from the ravages of the Turks.
The cessation of hostilities did not interrupt the continued ravages
and devastations. Officially, it is true, there was, for about sixty
years, peace between the royal court and the sultans, but this did
not prevent the latter from constantly indulging in minor military
operations. In 1663, however, when Leopold I., who was of an eminently
peaceful disposition, held the throne, the Turks officially declared
war. Although it had already then become apparent that the Turkish
empire was impaired in strength, and, more particularly, that her
military organization had degenerated, yet the Turks were eager for new
battles, and war was determined upon in Constantinople. Hostilities
soon commenced, and at St. Gotthard, in 1664, the Turks got their
first repulse, for Christian arms there dealt them a heavy blow.
Not once during the two centuries that had gone by were the Turks
so overwhelmingly defeated on the continent as on this occasion.
Enslaved Hungary breathed more freely, and already thought that the
long-hoped-for hour of shaking off Moslem thraldom had arrived. But she
was doomed to disappointment. The brilliant triumph was not turned to
Hungary’s advantage in Vienna. A hasty peace was concluded with the
terrified Turks, and thus was prolonged for many decades the Turkish
rule, which, though enfeebled, was still ruinous to Hungary.
It was at this period, too, that a man of great genius, and a true
patriot, preached, with genuine apostolic zeal, a crusade against the
Turks. His name was Nicholas Zrinyi. The namesake and great-grandson
of the hero of Szigetvár, he was himself a gallant soldier and famous
poet, and has immortalized, in a grand Hungarian epic, the martyrdom
of his heroic ancestor. By his writings he fired the hearts of his
countrymen, and his life was passed on bloody fields, in perpetual
warfare against the Turks. From his youth he had been inspired by one
thought only, to live and die for his country, and, although a devout
Catholic, he nobly proclaimed religious toleration, at a time when
the country was torn by religious dissensions. His educated mind led
him to cultivate poetry, and to study the works of classical authors
on history and philosophy, but his chief interest always remained the
battle-field and the struggle against the Turks. On one of his estates
he had a small fortress erected, called Zerinvár, from which the
Hungarians were in the habit of sallying forth into the neighboring
Turkish territory. This little place was a thorn in the side of the
Turk, and the main cause of the declaration of war of 1663. Zrinyi,
however, defended it gallantly, and beat back the assault of the enemy.
In the course of the war he took several Turkish fortresses, and burned
down and destroyed the bridge across the Drave, 4,000 paces in length,
near Eszék, which had been built under Solyman, and which, being the
main road leading into the western part of the country, was defended
by trenches and other fortifications. The repute made by Zrinyi’s
extraordinary feats of war resounded in all Europe, and he was loaded
down with distinctions by the pope, Louis XIV. of France, and by the
princes of Germany and Italy, as the hero of Christendom. In the zenith
of his glory, he lost his life by a cruel accident. While engaged in
the chase, a wild boar rushed upon him, and wounded him mortally. He
was found by his servants, lying on the ground, bathed in his own
blood, and expired shortly afterward. All Hungary and Christian Europe
lamented the loss of the distinguished soldier and poet.
His devout wish, to see the Hungarian nation freed from the oppressive
rule of the Turks, did not approach its fulfilment until twenty
years after his death. But even then it was not the royal court
which accomplished the work of liberation, for, instead of making
preparations in that direction, the government initiated the most
cruel persecutions against the Protestants, compelling them to resort
to armed resistance. The struggle between the Kuruczes, or the armed
Hungarians, and the imperial troops was at its height, when Kara
Mustapha Pasha, the ambitious grand-vizier of Sultan Mohammed IV., saw
in this intestine war a favorable opportunity to conquer the remaining
territory of Hungary, and even to menace in his own residence, Vienna,
the emperor of the Romans. Leopold I., the emperor of Germany and king
of Hungary, did all in his power to conciliate the Turks and to delay
the war. But Kara Mustapha remained inexorable, and boldly ventured on
an enterprise which was destined to be fatal to him, and which, after
a long and sanguinary contest, finally led to the overthrow of the
Turkish power in Europe and the liberation of Hungary.
In the spring of 1683 the sultan and his grand-vizier commenced their
march at the head of a force numbering 250,000 men, carrying with
them 300 cannon. In Hungary they were joined by the so-called Kurucz
king, Count Emeric Tökölyi, and his adherents. This tremendous army
was already under the walls of Vienna in July, but two months of a
severe siege had already elapsed and the city could not be taken. The
Christian forces, led by John Sobieski, King of Poland, and Charles,
Duke of Lorraine, were meanwhile hastening to the relief of the city,
and on the 12th of September they succeeded in completely routing the
Turkish army, which lost 60,000 men, the remainder scattering in wild
flight in every direction. This was the last great campaign undertaken
by the Osmanlis against the Western world. They could never recuperate
from the effects of the defeat then suffered, and the great calamity
which befell the Turkish power rendered it, at length, possible for
Hungary, the bulwark of Christianity, which had been the scene of
continual wars during a century and a half, to regain her liberty.
Leopold I., who had seen his capital menaced by the Turks, now took
energetic measures to continue the war, and very soon his forces
recaptured Gran, the ancient seat of the primate of Hungary, which for
a long time had owned the Turkish rule. The whole line of the Danube
fell into the hands of the Christians, and in 1684 an attempt was
made to capture Buda, the once famous capital of Hungary. The siege,
however, failed on this occasion, in spite of the heroic efforts made
by the Hungarians. But they were more fortunate in the case of another
powerful Turkish stronghold, Neuhäusel (Érsekujvár), the recapture of
which, a brilliant military feat, was made the occasion for feasting
and merriment in many European cities. At length, in 1686, Buda, too,
was restored to Hungary. Volunteers flocked into Hungary, from every
part of Europe, when the news spread that Duke Charles of Lorraine,
the commander-in-chief, was making preparations for the recapture
of the ancient and famous seat of the Hungarian kings. A powerful
army gathered around his banners, and in the middle of June the duke
arrived under the walls of Buda, which was defended by Abdi Pasha,
then seventy years old, and a garrison of 16,000 determined soldiers.
The siege lasted seventy-seven days, during which time the Turks made
two sallies, and the grand-vizier made three attempts to come to the
relief of the garrison, but the enemy was each time driven back by
the Christian forces. The strongly fortified city, which had been
heroically defended, fell, at length, after five unsuccessful assaults,
on the 2d of September, 1686, into the hands of Duke Charles. On the
afternoon of that day, at four o’clock, began the sixth assault; 9,000
Christian heroes resolutely stormed with fixed bayonets (an arm at
that time still new and here employed for the first time) the walls
which had been reduced to ruins by the guns of the besiegers. After a
sanguinary contest lasting about one hour, a gallant Hungarian, David
Petneházy, succeeded in penetrating, first, with his 800 hayduks, into
Buda, whose garrison and inhabitants were almost entirely put to the
sword. Thus after a lapse of 145 years was Buda freed from the Turkish
yoke, and the whole Christian world was jubilant over the glorious news.
Many bloody battles, however, occupying a considerable period of time,
had to be fought before the Moslem oppressors were entirely swept
away from Hungarian territory. Duke Charles marched to the southern
parts of Hungary and destroyed the Turkish army near Mohács, there,
where 161 years before the Hungarian army had been annihilated by the
Moslems. Soon after, Transylvania, too, passed under the supremacy
of the king of Hungary. All the principal fortresses and towns were
successively occupied by the royal troops, and when, in 1691, a Turkish
army numbering 100,000 men was sent again to Hungary by the Sublime
Porte, they were completely routed near Szalánkemén. It was one of the
most sanguinary battles of that century; the grand-vizier himself,
the aga of the Janissaries, seventeen pashas, and 20,000 Turkish
soldiers lost their lives during the engagement. During a few years
succeeding this great battle, lesser engagements only were fought, but
hostilities never ceased. In 1697, however, Duke Eugene of Savoy, the
“noble knight” and illustrious general, assumed the commandership of
the royal forces. In the battle near Zenta he utterly annihilated,
after a contest of two hours, a Turkish army led by Sultan Mustapha
II., inflicting frightful losses upon the enemy; 10,000 Turks met
their death in the waters of the Theiss, 20,000 were killed, and among
the dead were the grand-vizier, 4 pashas, and 13 begler beys. These
successive disasters and the frightful loss of men, amounting to many
hundreds of thousands in the course of the fifteen years of warfare,
finally prevailed upon the sultan to accept the terms of peace proposed
by Leopold I. The treaty of peace was signed at Carlowitz in 1699, and
under its terms Transylvania and the greater part of the Hungarian
territory was restored to the king of Hungary by the sultan, but a
smaller portion, lying between Transylvania and the Theiss, the ancient
county of Temes, was still permitted to remain in Turkish hands.
The court of Vienna, instead of attempting to regain the remaining
territory, elated by the recent military successes, again renewed
its attacks upon the nationality of the Hungarians and their ancient
liberties, which it had always looked upon with decided dislike, and
the complete subversion of which it now attempted. The nobility, weary
of the absolutism of the court, combined at last with the peasantry,
who had suffered severely under the lawlessness and illegal exactions
of the soldiery, to raise the standard of rebellion, under the lead
of Francis Rákóczy II. The great national struggle for liberty was
initiated by electing Rákóczy king of Hungary and Transylvania, and,
very soon, the Kurucz troops roamed as far as Austria. Later on,
however, the fortunes of war changed, and Rákóczy retired to Poland
hoping to obtain aid from the Russian Czar Peter the Great. During his
absence he entrusted one of his generals, Alexander Károlyi, with the
command of his army, who, however, instead of continuing the struggle,
made his peace with the king. The peace of Szatmár, in 1711, finally
put an end to the period of constitutional struggles between the nation
and the king.
Now, at last, came the time for the still enslaved Hungarian territory
to be freed from Turkish rule. The new war began in 1716. The imperial
troops were again commanded by Prince Eugene, who, once more defeating
the Turks near Peterwardein wrested, at last, Temesvár and the county
of Temes from the Turks, in whose possession they had remained one
hundred and sixty-four years. At the peace, concluded in 1718, the
Sultan relinquished also his claim to that part of the country, and
thus the entire territory belonging at the present day to the crown of
Hungary was at last freed from Turkish thraldom.
There was now an end to the Islam rule in Hungary, as there had been
to the same rule in Spain. But whilst the Moors had immortalized
their name by memorials of a grand civilization, leaving behind them
flourishing and wealthy cities, numerous works of art, and marvels of
architecture, the Turks left Hungary ruined and devastated. Throughout
the whole territory of the reconquered country, only a few miserable
villages could be met with here and there, population had sunk to
the lowest ebb, endless swamps covered the fertile soil of the once
flourishing Alföld (Lowland), and the genius of the Hungarian nation
had now to engage in the arduous labor of subduing, by the arts of
peace and civilization, the sterile waste they had regained at last
by their bravery and endurance. The work, hard as it was, was done.
For a century and a half the severe task of colonizing and civilizing
has been going on bravely, until finally that tract of land, which
they recovered from the Turks an uninhabited desert, has grown to be
populous, flourishing, and one of the richest granaries of Europe.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIII.
THE AUSTRIAN RULE, 1526-1780.
The preceding chapter gave an account of the varying fortunes of that
part of Hungary which, although geographically appertaining to the
domains of the crown of St. Stephen, was virtually occupied and ruled
by the Turks, and this account was brought down to the time when the
country succeeded in shaking off the foreign yoke. The thrilling
episodes of that sad era deserved a place by themselves. Yet in
describing these tragic events but little was said of the kings of the
ruling dynasty and the destinies of that portion of the country which
remained subject to their rule, or so much only was touched upon in a
general way as was absolutely necessary for a proper understanding of
the occurrences related there. This hiatus will now be supplied, by
resuming, in a succinct form, the historical narrative of the events
following the disastrous battle of Mohács.
We have already seen that at no time was the Turkish power so strong as
during the first half of the sixteenth century, and that Hungary was
never so weak as after the death of Matthias Hunyadi. The innovations
of Matthias had broken down the ancient military organization, which
recruited its armies from the ranks of the nobility and the armed
bands in their train, and established in its place a standing army.
But on the death of the genius which had called it into existence, the
standing army also disappeared. We have described elsewhere the sad
fate of his valiant “black guard.” The disastrous reverses at Belgrade
and Mohács were the consequence, and it became evident that Hungary,
single-handed, could not withstand the power of the Osmanlis.
Under these circumstances the nation was compelled to look for
assistance from abroad, and, in searching for a powerful alliance, it
was quite natural that public attention should be drawn to the house of
Hapsburg, the great authority and influence of which gave the fairest
promise of effectual support to the prostrate country. This dynasty
occupied at that time a front rank amongst the reigning families; its
rule extended over Austria, Germany, the wealthy Netherlands, Spain,
with her American colonies and dependencies, Naples, Sicily, and
Sardinia—an immense domain, of which it might have been then truly
said that “the sun never set in it.” No dynasty, since the Cæsars, had
controlled the destinies of so many nations and of so vast a territory.
Ferdinand, a scion of that influential dynasty, who at this time
was also elected king of Bohemia, owed his elevation to the throne
of Hungary to hopes and arguments of this kind. He gave the people
assurances of support on the part of his family; he vowed to respect
the rights and liberties of the nation, and promised to live in the
country and to confide the conduct of her affairs to Hungarians only.
[Illustration: A CSIKÓS.]
Every thing turned out quite differently from what the royal electors
had hoped and expected. The Turks were decidedly averse to any
augmentation of the power of the Hapsburgs by the acquisition of the
Hungarian throne. They desired to see Hungary under a separate king of
her own, and to accomplish this the Turks shrank from no sacrifices,
and succeeded in embroiling the unfortunate country in continual wars.
Unhappy Hungary was placed between the hammer and the anvil. The Turks
were unwilling to yield, and the Hapsburgs, quite as reluctant to give
up the country, were, nevertheless, unable to defend it. The result
of the cruel war, waged for over thirty years, was, in the end, that
Hungary was torn into three parts. The heart of the land, the Alföld,
was seized by the Turks; the hilly plateau of Transylvania was ruled
by native princes, acknowledging the suzerainty of the sultan; and
the remaining portion only, the northern and western part, owned the
supremacy of the Hapsburgs in their capacity of kings of Hungary. Thus
the new dynasty, so far from proving a protection to the country,
rather led to its dismemberment.
The condition of Transylvania was, comparatively speaking, more
favorable than that of either of the two other sections of the
country. She had to pay her tribute to the Turks, but beyond that she
experienced no interference on the part of her paramount lord. She was
allowed to elect her own rulers, to convene her national assemblies,
to keep up an army of her own, and to live as before under the ancient
laws of Hungary. The Alföld, in the hands of the Turks, was governed
in Turkish fashion. The Turks never settled down in the country they
conquered; they only garrisoned it, as it were. The government and
the spahis were the new landlords, and their chief care was, not to
watch over the welfare of the people, but to fleece them and to extort
from them heavy taxes and all sorts of vexatious imposts. The effects
of such an administration became soon visible. The ancient culture
perished, the population gradually decreased, and the once fertile soil
relapsed into barrenness.
Nor were the complaints fewer and less bitter in the western and
northern parts, ruled by the Hapsburg kings of Hungary. The hope of
obtaining, through these kings, aid from the West gradually vanished.
The nation, besides, was quick to perceive that Hungary was looked upon
by the Hapsburgs as an unimportant province, rather than an independent
country. The king did not reside in Hungary, but in Vienna, which
was the permanent seat of his government, and all the remonstrances
coming from the various diets against this state of things led only
to bare promises. There were numerous grievances besides. After the
first vacancy in the dignity of a palatine no other palatine had been
appointed, German advisers alone were listened to in affairs concerning
Hungary, the country was flooded with German officials and soldiers,
and distinguished Hungarian magnates were thrown into prison without
due form of law. These evils were already felt under Ferdinand, the
first Hapsburg king, but they still increased under his successor,
King Maximilian (1564-1576). The latter proceeded quite openly in
his anti-national policy. He promised Germany for himself and his
successors, in return for her aid, to use every endeavor to bring
about the annexation of Hungary to that country. The Diet of 1567,
in enumerating the many abuses of the government, bitterly inveighed
against the foreign soldiery, charging them with arbitrarily raising
tolls, taking the thirtieth part, imposing unlawful taxes on the
communes, wasting the substance of the peasantry and robbing them of
their last penny, and, finally, selling their children into slavery
to the Turks. The Diet declared that, “There is no salvation, no hope
for us; we have no other alternative but to leave our native land and
emigrate to foreign parts.”
These complaints remained unheeded by Maximilian, nor was his son
and successor, Rudolph (1576-1608), more disposed to remedy the ills
complained of. The office of the palatine still remained vacant;
the affairs of Hungary were administered, without consulting the
Hungarians, by a court cabinet and a military council. Rudolph’s reply
to the remonstrances of the Estates of the realm, that “these things
have been in practice long since,” was certainly a cynical apology for
the continuance of abuses. Thus was the continual infringement of the
law claimed to have become a law in itself, and independent Hungary
became virtually subject to the authority of foreigners. The temper of
the diets which met during the first years of Rudolph’s reign clearly
indicated the state of irritation produced by the king’s presumptuous
treatment of the liberties of the nation; the exasperated Estates
spoke of refusing to vote subsidies, and some of them, although in the
minority, threatened even to join either Poland or Turkey. Rudolph,
wearied with these boisterous scenes, turned his back upon the country,
and the nation did not see her king for twenty-five years.
The country was compelled patiently to suffer the encroachments on her
ancient rights, for to no quarter could she look for help. Alone she
was too weak to right herself, and the only alliances that offered
themselves were either the German or Turkish. A sad alternative,
indeed, for the Turks on the one hand never ceased to harass and
devastate the country, threatening even to absorb the territory yet
free, and the Germans on the other utterly ignored the constitution
and liberties of Hungary, although the kings on their election and
coronation always swore to respect and to defend both. The Turks were
extirpating the nation, whilst the Germans were trying to rob her of
her Hungarian nationality. The Germans, being considered the lesser
evil, carried the day, and hopes were besides entertained that, after
all, Germany would finally rid the country of the Turks. These hopes
were further encouraged after the death of Solyman (1566), when it
became apparent that the Turkish power was declining from day to
day. But the country was doomed to disappointment, for the Viennese
government, instead of arraying itself against Turkey, was on the eve
of trying the patience of her people again with measures and acts
hostile to their nationality.
The great obstacle to the Germanizing schemes had always been the
Hungarian Diet and the stiffnecked independence of the nobles composing
it. It was impossible for the government to do away with the diet as
it had done away with the dignity of palatine and the other exalted
Hungarian offices, as the grant of taxes and soldiers required in an
emergency depended upon the good will of the diet. If there was no
diet in session, no supplies of money and soldiers could be voted. The
government therefore determined to resort to measures which would bend
the majority of the diet to its will. The royal free cities had at
that time the privilege of sending members to the diet of Hungary to
represent them. But the influence at the diet of these municipalities,
of whom there were but few, and most of these with German inhabitants,
was very slight. A great number of private boroughs were made by the
government royal free cities, and an attempt was made to use the new
members sent by these constituencies as a counterpoise to the hostile
nobles in the diet. But the nobility loudly protested against this
innovation. Some of those who protested were charged with treason, but,
unable to obtain their conviction before a Hungarian tribunal, the
government had them brought to Vienna before a military council, which
pronounced them guilty of the charge against them. One of the victims
of these illegal proceedings, a certain Illesházy, a wealthy magnate,
saved his life by flight only. His immense estates were confiscated,
and an inquiry into his case fully proved that the cruel sentence
passed upon him was not meant so much to punish his supposed crime,
as it was intended to be a means of getting possession of his vast
property. But the persecutions of the government did not stop there;
the turn of the Protestants soon came. Thus was one of the captains
ordered to take away by violence from the Protestants the cathedral at
Kassa, and to hand it over to the Catholics. The city authorities of
Kassa recaptured the church, but it was taken from them again by force,
and the city was mulcted by the government in a heavy fine of money.
This outrage might well excite indignation at a time when three fourths
of the population of Hungary were Protestants. It became evident that
the German influence was bent upon attacking the people in their
liberties as well as their religion, and whilst the government was yet
inclined to show some indulgence to the Catholics, it was determined
to show no kind of mercy to the Protestants of the country.
The excitement and indignation of the people, throughout the whole
land, at these lawless proceedings, were reflected in the temper
of the Diet which met in 1604. They protested against the illegal
persecutions, stood up for the freedom of worship, and warned the
government not to stir up dissensions amongst the followers of the
antagonistic churches. A fresh injury, however, was added to those
complained of, by Rudolph’s arbitrarily supplementing the 21st article
enacted by the Diet with a 22d article, in which the Diet was enjoined
from discussing religious topics; intimations were thrown out at the
same time that heresy was to be persecuted.
This 22d article was the spark which set ablaze all the inflammable
material that had accumulated in the country since the time that the
Hapsburgs had occupied the throne of Hungary. The North of Hungary,
allied with Transylvania, rose in arms, and the entire Upper Country
was soon gathering in the camp of Stephen Bocskay, the prince of
Transylvania. The Turks favored the insurrection and proclaimed Bocskay
king of Hungary, bestowing upon him, at the same time, a crown of gold.
The insurgents aimed at the entire overthrow of the Hapsburgs, but
the politic Bocskay opposed this, being disinclined to deliver up the
whole of Hungary to the tender mercies of the Osmanlis. Bocskay saw in
the Germans a counterpoise to the overweaning power of the Turks and
counselled a policy of conciliation. The result of his counsels was
the peace of Vienna, concluded in 1606, in which the abuses complained
of were remedied, and constitutional government and freedom of worship
were guaranteed for all time to come.
Remarkable as were the results of Bocskay’s rising, they were quite
eclipsed by the effects of the astute policy inaugurated by him as the
ruler of Transylvania, a policy which he bequeathed to his princely
successors, enjoining upon them in his last will always to adhere to
it. It consisted in maintaining, at all hazards, the independence of
Transylvania, in order to enable her, according to the necessities
of the moment, either to combine with the Turks in defence of the
Hungarian nationality against the encroachments of Germanism, or
joining the Germans to keep, with their aid, the Turks out of the
remaining Hungarian territory. This course, marked by rare political
acumen and inspired by the purest patriotism, was effectively aided
by the mutual jealousies of the Turks and Germans, and enabled the
Transylvanian princes ultimately to achieve their noble aim of saving
the liberties of Hungary, their common country.
The terms of the peace of Vienna were soon forgotten by the Viennese
government, and its proselyting Catholicism brought it again into
collision with the Hungarian Protestants. The successor of Rudolph,
Matthias (1608-1619), succeeded in restraining to some extent the
outbreaks of hatred by which the various sectaries were animated, but
hardly had the succession to the throne of Bohemia been secured to his
cousin Ferdinand (II.), who had been brought up by the Jesuits, and was
their zealous pupil, than the Czech Protestants took up arms, severed
their connection with the Hapsburgs, and inaugurated the religious war
which raged in Germany for thirty years, and which stands in history
unexampled for its horrors (1618).
This movement could not leave Hungary indifferent. In Hungary, too,
Romanizing was being strenuously carried on. The Jesuits gained a
foothold in the country, and bringing with them their schools, books,
and well-organized machinery they soon succeeded, under the patronage
of the government of Vienna, in supplanting the Protestants. Peter
Pázmány, who, from a simple Jesuit, had risen to the primacy of
Hungary, was the life and soul of the proselyting movement. He brought
to the work of Romanizing the country an irresistible eloquence,
invincible arguments in his writings, and unsurpassed religious zeal.
All the great powers of his mastermind, and the resources of his
enormous wealth were employed by him to add to the Catholic fold.
By his own personal influence alone, thirty of the most conspicuous
Hungarian families returned to the Catholic faith of their ancestors,
families among whom some owned domains larger than a dozen of the
smaller principalities of Germany. Protestantism gradually lost ground,
its followers became a minority in the Diet, and the Catholics became
daily more arrogant. Under these circumstances the Protestants of
Hungary (where in 1618 Ferdinand was elected king, to succeed on
the death of Matthias) could not look on with unconcern when their
Czech brethren rose in arms nor could they permit their defeat by the
Catholic court, for such an event was sure to hasten the moment when
they, in their turn, would have to resist the violent measures of
coercion practiced now against the Czechs.
They therefore joined the Czechs and took up arms for the defence of
their liberties, for freedom of worship was with the nation closely
interwoven with the cause of constitutional liberty. Gabriel Bethlen,
who had become prince of Transylvania in 1613, stood at the head of
the movement. On his first appearance on the scene of action, Bethlen
is thus spoken of by a Frenchman in a report to his own government:
“Bethlen is a distinguished soldier who has taken part, in person,
in forty-three engagements; he is a man of wise judgment and great
eloquence * * * in short, the great Henry IV. excepted, there is no
king like him in the world.” The high expectations entertained of his
abilities were not disappointed. The whole Upper Country as far as
Presburg passed into his hands during the first year of the rebellion,
and in 1620 he obtained possession of the greatest part of the
territory beyond the Danube. But while he was carrying on hostilities
with such signal success, the Czechs were completely routed by Tilly
near Prague, and this defeat cost Bohemia her independence. Bethlen,
being left without allies, hastened to make terms with the Viennese
government, and the result was the Treaty of Nikolsburg, concluded in
the beginning of 1622, based upon the peace of Vienna.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN PEASANTS.]
Bethlen, perceiving, with his wonted judgment, that the dissensions
among the Protestants of Germany augured nothing favorable for the
future, endeavored to enter into amicable relations with the court
of Vienna. He used every means to prevail upon it to abandon the
persecution of the Protestants, and to unite with him in a common war
against the Turks, in order to drive them from Hungary. But the court
was not disposed to listen to his overtures, and seemed to consider
it a matter of greater importance to accomplish the destruction of
Protestantism than to free the country from the Turks. Bethlen, seeing
that all attempts in this direction were doomed to failure, returned to
the old policy of the Transylvania princes. His political connections
reached as far as France, England, and Sweden, and, upon the breaking
out of the Danish war (1625), he again began armed hostilities, which,
however, although crowned with victory, gave way to a new treaty
of peace, owing to the defeat of Bethlen’s allies in Germany. When
Gustavus Adolphus made his appearance in the West, achieving victories
for Protestantism, the great Transylvanian prince was no more amongst
the living; he died in 1629. Bethlen was, no doubt, one of the most
conspicuous figures in the history of Hungary. Through his exertions
little Transylvania moved, in politics, abreast of the most powerful
European nations, and under him she became rich, powerful, and greatly
advanced in culture, and a strong prop to the rest of the Hungarian
nation. His premature death deprived the country of the advantages
which he certainly would have drawn from the triumphs of Gustavus
Adolphus.
Toward the close of the Thirty Years’ War, the prince of Transylvania,
George Rákóczy I., took advantage of the distressed position of
Ferdinand III. of Hapsburg (who had succeeded his father, Ferdinand
II., on his thrones in 1637) to strike a successful blow for the
liberties of Hungary. The beginning of the reign of the successor of
Ferdinand III., Leopold I. (1657-1705), witnessed the downfall of
Transylvania’s power.
This event disturbed the balance of power between the Turks and
Germans, and alone was sufficient to bring about the great changes
which soon took place in the affairs of Hungary. In order to account
for the overthrow of the power of Transylvania, it must be remembered
that both the Turks and Germans had for a long time back looked askance
at the strength and influence of this little principality. They were
filled with apprehensions of having their Hungarian territories
gradually absorbed by Transylvania, and there was an agreement between
these two powers, to the effect that she should not be allowed to add
to her territory. It is impossible to suppose that the then ruler of
Transylvania, George Rákóczy II., had no information of this secret
treaty, but he apparently paid no heed to it, or entertained no fears
as to its effects. He quietly continued to extend his power, and
for that purpose entered into an alliance with the Swedish king for
the partition of Poland. In vain did the Viennese court oppose this
aggressive course, in vain did the Turks command him to desist from
it; the Transylvanian prince crossed the Carpathians, with a gallant
army, in 1657. The allied forces of Sweden and Transylvania were
everywhere victorious, and the power of Transylvania stood higher than
ever. It was at this conjuncture that Leopold I., who had succeeded
Ferdinand III., inaugurated, at once, a warlike policy, parting with
the peaceable traditions of his predecessors. Leopold divided the
attention of Rákóczy’s Swedish ally by setting on him his ancient
enemies, the Danes, and sent his own armies into those Hungarian
domains belonging to Rákóczy, which the Transylvanian princes had
extorted from the Hapsburgs, in the treaties of Vienna and Nikolsburg,
and on other similar occasions. Nor were the Turks behindhand in
co-operating with the Hapsburgs. A Tartar army was sent into Poland
against Rákóczy, and he himself was deposed from his princely office as
a punishment for his disobedience. Rákóczy, thus left to fight his own
battles, without an ally, and hemmed in by Turks, Germans, and Tartars,
suffered defeat on every side, the flower of his army fell into the
hands of the Tartars, and it was only by paying a large sum that he
obtained peace from Poland. When he returned to Transylvania in August,
1657, with the wreck of his army, the principality was involved in
utter financial and military ruin.
The Turks, however, did not pause here; they wished to get the whole
of Transylvania into their possession. Twice the unhappy country was
devastated by Tartar hordes, and the inhabitants repeatedly carried
away into slavery by thousands; a prince was given to her at the
dictation of the Turks, and part of her territory actually passed under
direct Turkish rule (1662). The hearts of the patriotic Hungarians bled
at this cruel sight, and they appealed to and incessantly urged their
king to interfere, and not to allow the principality to perish. Leopold
I. turned a deaf ear to these appeals; he was not inclined to venture
on a war with Turkey, on behalf of Transylvania, and was, at best,
careful to get his share of the common plunder. It was a gloomy outlook
for the Hungarian nation; the Turks, on the one hand, oppressing her
with their formidable forces, and their own king languidly looking on.
The Turkish successes in Transylvania only served to whet the Moslem
appetite for further conquests. In 1663 the Turks attacked Leopold
without any warning, and obtained possession of the region of the Upper
Danube, and of the lower valley of the Vág. This was a great blow to
Hungary, for the conquered territory was thrust like a wedge into
the semicircular national territory, dividing it again into two new
parts. Although an imperial army was sent to meet the Turkish forces,
no efforts were made to stay the continual advances of the latter as
long as they were on Hungarian territory, but as soon as they neared
the Austrian frontier they were opposed by the imperial forces. This
imperial army achieved at St. Gotthard, near the Raab, a brilliant
victory over the Turks.
This victory gave fresh courage to the despondent Hungarians. They now
hoped that the war would be successfully pushed forward, and would
end only with the liberation of their country, and the less sanguine
expected at least a peace which would restore to the possession of the
king of Hungary, Transylvania, and all the other territories obtained
by the Turks since 1657. A sad disappointment, however, fell upon the
country. The peace concluded by the victorious government left in the
possession of the Turks all the territory they had previously taken,
thus virtually leaving the country in her former maimed condition.
This disgraceful peace which had been concluded by the court of Vienna
without consulting the Hungarians, at last shook even the faith of
those Catholic Hungarians who, until now, had been the unconditional
adherents of the Hapsburgs. They had, heretofore, acquiesced in the
forlorn condition of their country, being persuaded that the Viennese
government lacked the ability of rescuing her, but recent events showed
them that it was lack of good will on the part of the government which
was precipitating the ruin of the country. It became the universal
conviction that the Hapsburgs would gladly see the country in the
hands of the foreign invader, in order to enable them, by reconquering
her anew, to do away with the uncomfortable trammels of the national
constitution. Leopold did not heed the general discontent; he pursued
the great aim he had proposed to himself, of uniting, after the
illustrious example of Louis XIV., all the dependencies of his dynasty
into one homogeneous empire. Things had come to such a pass in Hungary
that the most inveterate enemies of Turkey openly counselled amity
with the Turks, declaring that they preferred paying a tribute to the
latter rather than to see the country go to ruin by the Germanizing
machinations of the Viennese court.
The general discontent soon budded into a conspiracy in which, this
time, not only the Protestants, but chiefly the Catholic population
took part, who were now quite as eager to rid themselves of the
Germans. The heads of the conspiracy were all Catholics. Their
leader was Wesselényi, the palatine of the realm and the king’s
representative, and affiliated with him in the leadership were the
largest landlords in the country: Peter Zrinyi, Nádasdy, Francis
Rákóczy, and Frangepán. Their aim was to rid the country of the
Germans by the aid of the Turks, or, if possible, of the French.
The conspiracy, however, failed. Wesselényi died, and the plot was
betrayed to the government before it had ripened into the intended
rising. Leopold, without loss of time, swooped down upon the principal
conspirators. Zrinyi, Nádasdy, and Frangepán were seized, and without
being given the benefit of the laws of their country, were decapitated.
Their immense estates were confiscated, and Rákóczy himself could only
save his life and obtain mercy by paying a ruinous ransom (1671).
The government, however, was not satisfied with the cruel punishment
of the ringleaders alone; it deemed this a propitious time for the
introduction of various oppressive measures. Without convoking the
Diet, a land and corn tax was imposed upon the country, excise duties
were introduced, and a poll tax levied on every inhabitant, including
the nobles. The land was swarming with a foreign soldiery brought
there to restrain the rebellious Hungarians. The government added
injury to insult; not satisfied with insulting the nation by entirely
ignoring its constitution, and keeping down the national aspirations by
quartering foreign garrisons in national territory, it raised illegal
taxes wherewith to pay the armed oppressors. The government at Vienna
threw off its mask at last; the Hungarian constitution was abolished,
and Hungary reduced to the condition of a province of Austria (1673).
Whilst the government thus succeeded in subverting the constitution of
the country, it showed no less activity and success in the prosecution
of its other aim, the Romanizing of the people. There was no law to
protect those professing the new faith; they could be oppressed with
impunity; their churches were taken away from them; hundreds of their
ministers and teachers were sentenced by the tribunal to slavery on
the galleys, or were sent adrift by private persecutions. It was an
open secret that the king himself was eager to exterminate the last
heretic, and just as the oath of the king to protect the constitution
had been forgotten, so were the various treaties of peace, guaranteeing
the freedom of worship, doomed to oblivion, as soon as there was no
Transylvanian prince to recall them to royal memory by force of arms.
And yet it was Transylvania, in her weakened condition, that now
came to the assistance of Hungary, which had become a prey to
Austrian rapacity. Many of those who were compelled to fly from the
persecutions of the sanguinary policy of the government sought and
found a refuge in Transylvania, and they were continually urging
Apaffy, the prince of Transylvania, and the Turks to intercede with
arms in behalf of the Hungarian cause. The Viennese government assailed
Stambul with letters requesting the sultan not to allow Transylvania
to be the place of refuge of certain “thieves,” but to no purpose. The
Porte, indeed, so far from favorably receiving these epistles, secretly
promised aid against the Austrians. A fresh insurrection broke out
in 1672. The refugees flocked into the Upper Country and inaugurated
a warfare which, for cruelty and mercilessness, stands alone in the
history of Hungary. The era of this contest, commencing in 1672, and
covering a period of nearly ten years, is called the _Kurucz-Labancz_
era. This aimless and purposeless struggle was kept up between the
Kuruczes (insurgents) and Labanczes (Austrians), within the limits of
the territory lying between Komárom and Transylvania, and there was
no end of the horrors the contestants were guilty of in the course of
their hostilities against each other. To cut tobacco on the enemy’s
bare back, or to cut strips from his quivering skin, to drive thorns
or iron spikes under the finger-nails, to bury him in the ground up
to his head and then fire at him, to skin him alive, to put a stake
through him,—in a word, to perpetrate tortures at which humanity
shudders, these were the every-day courtesies exchanged between the
two belligerents. The combatants of that day respected neither God
nor man; they acknowledged only one guide for their actions: a bitter
and undying hatred of all that called itself _Labancz_. They were the
misguided creatures of a period during which the insane policy of the
government had robbed the people both of their religion and their
teachers.
The ruling powers had thus conjured up days of terror, but were utterly
inadequate to the task of terminating them. Indeed after several years
of this schemeless struggle, the rebellion became at last organized
and conscious of a fixed object. The rebels received aid from the
French and from the Porte, and Transylvania, as a state, was ready
to make common cause with her countrymen. Tökölyi, a magnate of the
Upper Country, a youth only twenty-one years old, but of eminent
abilities, placed himself at the head of the rebels, and, now in 1678,
began the war in good earnest. The rebels soon became masters of the
Upper Country, and the government which had been unable to cope with
the headless Kuruczes, proved quite helpless against the organized
rebellion, led by an able chief. Austria was, besides, continually
harassed by Louis XIV. in the west, and, to add to her difficulties,
it was rumored that the Turks were preparing to invade Hungary with an
immense army, which, uniting with the forces of Tökölyi, should drive
the Austrians from the country.
The government, thus driven to the wall, surrendered. Negotiations soon
began, the Diet was convoked in 1681, and constitutional government and
freedom of worship were restored with a show of great alacrity. The
concessions came too late. The rebels had no faith in the government
after the cruel deceptions of which it had been guilty, and placed no
trust in promises wrung from its necessitous condition. They refused
to submit, and Tökölyi was proclaimed by the Porte king of Hungary.
The threatened Turkish invasion became also in 1683 a fact. At this
moment Hungary seemed to be lost forever to the Hapsburgs; the whole
country sided with the Turks, the territory beyond the Danube also
acknowledging the authority of Tökölyi.
The destinies of Hungary, nay of all Eastern Europe, hung upon the fate
of besieged Vienna. The siege of Vienna was raised through the victory
of Sobieski the Polish king; and the rapidly succeeding victories of
the Christian armies, already referred to in the preceding chapter,
awakened the hopes of the Hungarian nation, and showed that, at last,
the emperor-king concerned himself in the liberation from Turkish rule
of Hungarian territory. The decisive victories of Prince Eugene of
Savoy finally accomplished this, and the Turks henceforth gave up all
hopes of reconquering Hungary.
The liberation of the Hungarian soil, however important in itself,
proved no immediate panacea for the ills of which the country had to
complain. Even while the struggle was going on, many things happened
which pointed to troubles in the future. The Hungarian inhabitants
along the course of the Danube were rudely interrogated by the
soldiers of the imperial army of liberation as to what faith they
professed, and if they were found to adhere to the new tenets they
were mercilessly set adrift. In the Upper Country a certain Caraffa,
the military commandant of that district, committed acts of the most
cruel atrocity. This bloody monster pretended to have discovered a
conspiracy, and obtained from the government, which was disposed to
suspect the loyalty of the Hungarians, full powers to deal with it and
to put it down. Caraffa made a terrible use of his commission. He made
wholesale arrests of the suspected and loyal alike, threw into prison
men of high standing against whom he had a personal grudge, and rich
people whose property he coveted, and extorted from them by dreadful
tortures the confession of crimes they had never committed. These
unfortunates were then executed upon the strength of their confessions.
This _bloody tribunal of Eperjes_, of ill-fame, which inspired horror
all over the land, continued its malevolent functions until the first
months of 1687, when it was abolished, through the intercession of the
Diet which had just been convoked. This Diet, however, was in most of
its work not at all anxious to hamper the government. On the contrary,
it displayed a pliability which made it forget the true interests of
the country. Thus it substituted for the ancient right of the nation
to elect their kings, the hereditary right of succession in the male
branch of the Hapsburg dynasty, and it was this Diet that relinquished
the time-honored right of the people, guaranteed by the Golden Bull, to
resist with arms any illegal acts of the king, without incurring the
penalty of treason for so doing. There were some malicious critics who
pretended that this unpatriotic legislation was due to the pressure
of imperial guns pointed at the place in which the Diet met. At all
events the servile spirit exhibited by the Diet gave color to the
apprehensions of those Hungarians who were of one mind with Tökölyi,
that Hungary must be irretrievably ruined if she passed under the
authority of the Austrians.
As the Turkish wars were drawing to an end, more melancholy portents
began to darken the horizon. Hungary was reorganized by the government
at Vienna without the Hungarians being consulted. Transylvania remained
a separate “grand duchy,” and the district beyond the Drave was formed
into a separate province, and all this was done from the fear lest
united Hungary might become too strong to suit Austria’s schemes.
A large portion of the recovered territory was distributed amongst
German landowners, the southern portion of the Alföld was colonized by
Servians, and in other parts of the land, especially in the cities, the
settlement of German-speaking people was encouraged, for the purpose
of tempering the hot blood of the rebellious Hungarians. The fortified
castles scattered throughout the whole country, the property of private
owners, were blown up by the hundred, without the consent of their
proprietors, lest in case of a fresh rising these strongholds should be
used as centres of a factious spirit.
The Protestants were not allowed to settle in the reconquered
districts. In other places the freedom of their worship was interfered
with, the churches were taken from them, their ministers driven away,
and if any one, appealing to his constitutional rights, had the courage
to resist these illegalities, he was thrown into prison. In a word,
regular dragonnades, as they flourished in France under Louis XIV., now
became the order of the day.
The government imposed upon the people such oppressive and burdensome
taxes that it almost seemed as if it dreaded the prosperity of the
country. If the people complained of the heavy burdens, they were
instigated against the nobles, whose exemption from taxation was
pointed out as the only cause of the heavy burdens. The country was
again flooded by a foreign soldiery, whose chief business consisted
in robbing and plundering, the common soldiers oppressing the common
people, and the officers the nobility. The honor and the property of
the people were at the mercy of these brutal troops, and those who
complained of such outrages found themselves always in the wrong. This
forlorn condition is reflected in many of the plaintive popular songs
of that period, but there was no means of remedying these evils crying
throughout the land, for no Diet had been convoked since 1687. The
aim of the Viennese government became daily more evident, to put the
Austrian rule in the place of the Turkish, and to ignore altogether
the Hungarian national aspirations. The nation herself seemed to the
government too much enfeebled and trodden down to give any ground for
apprehending any resistance in defence of her rights, but to make
assurance doubly sure every effort was made to crush the national
spirit.
Yet the nation could not brook oppression, she could not be kept
quiet, deprived of constitutional government, and as soon as she had
found again a leader in Francis Rákóczy II., she rose in arms. The
new leader was the bearer of a great name. His ancestors had been
princes of Transylvania. He himself was the grandson of that George
Rákóczy II., who in 1657 invaded Poland, and subsequently lost his
life fighting against the Turks in defence of his country and his
throne. His father Francis had taken part in the Wesselényi conspiracy,
and escaped the scaffold only at the cost of an immense ransom. His
maternal grandfather, Peter Zrinyi, met with his death on the scaffold,
and his only great-uncle perished in prison in spite of his innocence.
His stepfather, Tökölyi, together with his own mother, Ilona Zrinyi,
ate the bitter bread of exile in Turkey. He and his sister were,
in their early youth, torn from their parents, and their education
entrusted to Germans. In Vienna he was subjected to many humiliations,
and as he grew up he left that city and retired to one of his estates,
intending to pass his life peacefully near his wife. He was averse to
action, and the bloody shades of his family seemed vainly to beckon to
him, who alone bore yet the famous name and was the master of immense
possessions, to follow in their footsteps.
But all this was changed as soon as he came to Hungary. He could not
bear to witness the wrongs perpetrated about him, and he could not move
a step without becoming aware that the nation expected from him, the
descendant of a line of heroes, their salvation. Meanwhile the Spanish
war of succession had broken out in 1701, and very soon all Europe was
involved in it. This appeared to Rákóczy to be a propitious time for
the reconquering of the liberties of the people, and, aided by the
French king, he hoisted in 1703 the flag of the rebellion, bearing the
inscription “pro patria et libertate,” for the fatherland and liberty.
The sages at Vienna would not at first credit the news of the rising of
the people; they had long ago made up their minds that such an event
was impossible. But when the movement spread like wildfire throughout
the Upper Country, Transylvania, and ultimately all Hungary, and
the great majority of the nation unsheathed the sword, they became
frightened, and resorted to—negotiations and fresh promises. The rebels
were inclined to cease hostilities provided their liberties were
secured. But mere words did not satisfy them now, having been taught by
sad experience the futility of royal words, oaths, and solemn treaties
of peace, and they therefore endeavored to obtain more substantial
guaranties from the government. They exacted the independence of
Transylvania, under a Hungarian prince and the guaranty of the European
powers. To these propositions the government neither would nor could
accede, while the rebels insisted upon their first proposals, declaring
that it was impossible for them to have any faith in Austrian or—as it
was popularly termed—in German promises. This universal sentiment of
distrust, pervading the nation, is admirably reflected in a popular
song, to which that period gave birth, and of which we subjoin a
translation:
“Magyar, trust not the Germans,
No matter how or what they protest;
Naught is the parchment they give thee,
’Though it be as large as thy round cloak,
And though they set a seal on it
As big as the brim of the moon,
Spite of all, it lacks all _virtus_ (trustworthiness).
Confound them, _Jesus Christus!_”
[Illustration: PEASANT GIRL FROM THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF BUDA-PESTH.]
These overtures failed to lead to peace, and the struggle continued
throughout the land, giving up to ruin what had been left intact by the
Turkish slavery of a century and a half and the sixteen years’ war of
liberation. The government was unable either to quell or to crush the
rebellion, standing in need of all its strength for the struggle in
the west. At this conjuncture Leopold I. descended into his grave in
1705, and his well-intentioned son, Joseph I., succeeded to the throne
(1705-1711).
Joseph sincerely wished for peace, and, convinced of the mistakes
of the policy of his father, he did all in his power to allay the
apprehensions of the rebels, but his constitutional sentiment failed
to efface the baneful effects of his predecessor’s misgovernment and
duplicity. Nor was it possible for him, either, to accept the terms
of the rebels, and thus it came to pass that the dynasty of Hapsburg
was dethroned in Hungary, during the reign of this upright monarch,
in 1707. This was a great mistake on the part of the rebels, but
Joseph had now the advantage of being able to show his respect for the
liberties of the nation, under the most adverse circumstances, and he
thus, by slow degrees, won the confidence of the people. The French
had, meanwhile, been thoroughly defeated, and Joseph was thus enabled
to oppose larger forces to the rebels, while the latter could not
secure aid from any quarter. The rebels, exhausted with the protracted
struggle, met with repeated defeats, and, to add to their distress, the
black plague made its appearance and fearfully thinned the ranks of
their troops. The king, however, did not abuse his increasing power.
He granted an amnesty to all, without exception, who were willing to
return to their allegiance; he governed constitutionally, remedied the
ills inflicted upon the country by his predecessors, and finally placed
a Hungarian commander-in-chief at the head of the army. His earnest
and sincere endeavors were at last rewarded by peace. The issue of the
various negotiations was the compact of Szatmár, concluded in 1711, by
the terms of which a general amnesty was granted, and constitutional
and religious liberty secured.
This peace was a grateful conclusion to the sad days which had been
weighing down Hungary for two hundred years, a period during which both
Turks and Austrians were compassing the ruin of the country. The former
were perpetually threatening her territorial integrity; the latter, her
political liberties, and the nationality to which those liberties were
closely wedded. By dint of rare courage, an undying love of liberty,
and acute statesmanship, they succeeded in preserving both their
territory and their liberties. The sad events of those two centuries
had put the endurance and energies of the nation to the severest test,
but, in the end, she triumphantly passed through the cruel ordeal.
A new era now dawned in the history of Hungary. Wars no more threatened
the territory of the country, and her liberties and nationality were no
longer exposed to stubborn violence. Yet the dangers to her national
life were not yet quite removed, for what the sword and brute force
had been unable to accomplish during the preceding centuries, the
eighteenth century attempted to achieve peaceably by means of the
Western civilization.
Charles III. (Charles VI. as Emperor of Germany), the brother and
successor of Joseph, inaugurated this new policy, and his daughter,
Maria Theresa (1740-1780), continued to pursue, during her long
reign, with great success, the course traced by her royal father. The
protracted wars, whilst laying waste the country and reducing her
population, had also retarded her culture, and it became now necessary
to find means to remedy both evils. Attempts were made to supply the
lack of population by colonizing. The Alföld, the special home of the
Hungarian race, was particularly depopulated, and there we see the
work of establishing new settlements most zealously carried on during
the whole century. The Slavs from the Upper Country, the Servians from
the South, and multitudes of German-speaking peoples from the West,
soon spread over the great plain, and the numerous villages of the
last could be met with at every step. The government was especially
solicitous in promoting German colonization, partly because these
settlers were industrious, and partly because this course favored the
Germanization of the country. But soon the Hungarians, who had been
crowded back into the hilly regions of the country, returned to their
beloved Alföld, and for a while a regular hand-to-hand fight ensued
between them and the strangers for the possession of the broad acres of
the fertile plain. Hardly one generation passed and all those motley
populations became Magyarized, and proudly proclaimed themselves to
be members of the Hungarian community. Only there where the foreign
element had settled in compact masses, they remained strangers still,
but the national encroachment on their borders went constantly on.
In connection with the colonization was also carried on the work of
draining the swamps and improving the soil, and we see the population
day by day increasing in numbers and wealth.
Great changes, too, were effected in the country by means of
legislation. Successive Diets endeavored to remedy the many palpable
defects, and it may be said that the tribunals existing up to 1848
originated in the time of Charles III. At this period, also, was
introduced the system of a standing army and with it that of permanent
taxation. Both soldiers and taxes are still granted by the Diet, yet,
not for special emergencies only, as they arise, but until the next
Diet is convoked. About this time the relations between Hungary and
the Austrian provinces were more clearly defined by the _Pragmatic
Sanction_ of 1723. By it Hungary and the Austrian provinces were
declared inseparable, and the ruler of both was always to be one and
the same person from the Hapsburg dynasty, in the regular order of
succession in the male and female lines; but, otherwise, Hungary was to
remain perfectly independent, and was to be governed by her own laws.
The nation was offered an opportunity to prove by her alacrity in
complying with the wishes of Charles in regard to a change in the
order of the dynastic succession, that his kind feelings towards the
country were fully reciprocated by the trustfulness of the people.
The right of succession was thus extended to the female line too of
those very Hapsburgs, whose dynasty the nation, not many years before,
had declared to have altogether forfeited their right to the throne.
The country was soon called upon at Maria Theresa’s accession to the
throne to prove by deeds its attachment and gratitude. The young queen
was attacked by all Europe, the enemy being eager to rob her of the
fairest portions of her Austrian possessions. In this extreme danger
she appealed to chivalrous Hungary for protection, and the nation,
forgetting the old quarrels, exclaimed with one voice: “_Vitam et
sanguinem! moriamur pro rege nostro Maria Theresia!_” Eighty thousand
soldiers went into the war to meet the queen’s enemies, who were
anxious to divide the spoils of the empire, and during a combat of
eight years the Hungarians, whilst defending their Pragmatic Sanction,
upheld, at the same time, the integrity of the Austrian possessions.
The dynasty had thus won in Hungary, by a spirit of conciliation, a
country upon which it could count as a trusty support in case of
danger from without.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN PEASANT.]
Maria Theresa showed herself grateful for the sacrifices and devotion
of the nation. The district of Temes, which had been retaken from the
Turks by her father, was re-annexed to the kingdom of Hungary, and it
was Maria Theresa who gave Hungary the city of Fiume, in order that the
country might have a seaport town to promote her commerce and industry.
A great deal, too, was done by her, in many ways, to improve the
material condition of the country, and still more for the advancement
of higher culture through the erection of churches and the foundation
and organization of schools. In a word, she always remained, to her
end, the “gracious queen” of the nation.
A great social revolution had also taken place during the reigns of
Charles and Maria Theresa. The magnates of the country deserted in the
piping times of peace their eagle’s nests on the rocky crests of the
hills and descended into the smiling valleys below, building there
palaces for themselves after foreign patterns. Life in those rural
abodes, owing to the lack of pastimes and refinement, soon became
dull to the great lords, and, as there was no national capital to
offer distraction, they went abroad, and soon came to like the foreign
mode of life better than the lawlessness of their country homes. The
Viennese court bade them welcome, overwhelmed them with distinctions,
and Maria Theresa, especially, understood the art of fascinating
them. Gradually they became foreigners in their dress and manners,
and all the Hungarian that was still preserved by these absentees was
their names and the estates they possessed in Hungary, the revenues
of which they spent abroad. The atmosphere and the graces of court
life succeeded in doing what the sword and violence had failed to
accomplish. The great lords became estranged from their country and
thoroughly Germanized.
If the great noblemen alone had still the exclusive charge of defending
the independence and nationality of Hungary as they had done in days
of old, then indeed these blessed days of peace would have brought
ruin on both. It was fortunate, however, for the country that there
was still left the gentry, numbering hundreds of thousands, who, after
the peace of 1711, went on in their lives as before, and concerned
themselves, in their old way, with the national affairs; the counties,
where self-government reigned supreme, being the scene of their
action. This class of nobles did not go abroad, nor was it possible
to subject any large numbers of them to the fascinations of Viennese
court life. They remained at home, retained their Hungarian customs
and manners, their national language and dress, and with these it was
impossible to make them part. Their counties were so many bulwarks of
their nationality and the independence of Hungary, and these numerous
seats of self-government furnished the counterpoise to the Germanizing
influences of the court, which were thus destined, as far as the nation
as a whole was concerned, to come to naught in times of peace, as they
had failed before when coercion was employed.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIV.
THE EMPEROR JOSEPH II. THE NATIONAL REACTION AND THE NAPOLEONIC WARS.
The royal crown of Hungary has ever been, from the time it encircled
the brow of St. Stephen, an object of jealous solicitude and almost
superstitious veneration with the nation. It continued to loom up as
a luminous and rallying point in the midst of the vicissitudes and
stirring events of the history of the country, during all the centuries
that followed the coronation of the first king. The people looked
upon it as a hallowed relic, the glorious bequest of a long line of
generations past and gone, and as the symbol and embodiment of the
unity of the state. The different countries composing Hungary were
known under the collective name of the _Lands of the Sacred Crown_,
and, at the period when the privileged nobility was still enjoying
exceptional immunities, each noble styled himself _membrum sacræ
coronæ_, a member of the sacred crown. In the estimation of the people
it had ceased to be a religious symbol, and had become a cherished
national and political memorial, to which the followers of every creed
and all the classes without distinction might equally do homage. Nor
was the crown an every-day ornament to be displayed by royalty on
solemn occasions of pageant. The king wore it only once in his life, on
the day of his coronation, when he was bound solemnly to swear fidelity
to the constitution, before the high dignitaries of the state, first
in church, and to repeat afterwards in the open air his vow to govern
the country within the limits of the law. Thus in Hungary it has ever
been the ancient custom, prevailing to this day, that, on the king’s
accession to the throne, it is he who, on his coronation, takes the
oath of fidelity to his people, instead of the latter swearing fealty
to the king. The right of succession to the throne is hereditary, but
the lawful rule of the king begins with the ceremony of coronation
only. It requires this ceremonial, which to this day is characterized
by the attributes of mediæval pomp and splendor, to render the acts of
the ruler valid and binding upon the people; without it every public
act of such ruler is a usurpation.
During eight centuries all the kings and queens, without exception,
had been eager to place the crown on their heads, in order to come
into the full possession of their regal privileges. Joseph II., Maria
Theresa’s son, who succeeded his mother in 1780, was the first king who
refused to be crowned. He felt a reluctance to swear fidelity to the
constitution, and to promise, by a solemn oath, to govern the country
in accordance with its ancient usages and laws. The people, therefore,
never called him their crowned king; he was either styled emperor
by them, or nicknamed the “_kalapos_” (hatted) king. His reign was
but a series of illegal and unconstitutional acts, and a succession
of bitter and envenomed struggles between the nation and her ruler.
The contest finally ended with Joseph’s defeat. He retracted on his
deathbed all his arbitrary measures, and conceded to the people the
tardy restoration of their ancient constitution. The conflict, however,
had left deep traces in the minds of his Hungarian subjects. It roused
them from the dormant state into which they had been lulled by the
gentle and maternal absolutism of Maria Theresa. Thus Joseph’s schemes
not only failed, but, in their effects, they were destined to bring
about the triumph of ideas, fraught with important consequences, such
as he had hardly anticipated. The nation, waking from her lethargy,
gave more prominence than ever to the idea of nationality, an idea
which, as time advanced, increased in potency and intensity.
Yet this ruler, who on ascending the throne disregarded all
constitutional obligations and waged a relentless war against the
Hungarian nationality, must be, nevertheless, ranked amongst the
noblest characters of his century. Thoroughly imbued with the
enlightened views of the eighteenth century, and those new ideas which
had triumphed in the war of independence across the ocean, he was
ever in pursuit of generous and exalted aims. He sincerely desired
the welfare of the people, and in engaging in this fruitless conflict
he was by no means actuated by sinister intentions or by a despotic
disposition. To introduce reforms, called for by the spirit of the age,
into the Church, the schools, and every department of his government,
was the lofty task he had imposed upon himself. A champion of the
oppressed, he freed the human conscience from its mediæval fetters,
granted equal rights to the persecuted creeds, protected the enslaved
peasantry against their arbitrary masters, and enlarged the liberty
of the press. He endeavored to establish order and honesty in every
branch of the public service, being mindful, at the same time, of
all the agencies affecting the prosperity of the people. In a word,
his remarkable genius embraced every province of human action where
progress, reforms, and ameliorations were desirable.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN PORTER.]
Unhappily for his own peace of mind and for the destinies of the nation
he was called upon to rule, he committed a fatal error in the selection
of the methods for accomplishing his humane and philanthropic objects.
He desired to render Hungary happy, yet he excluded the nation from
the direction of her own affairs. He wished to enact salutary laws,
yet he reigned as an absolute monarch, unwilling to call the Diet to
his aid in the great work of reformation, ignoring and disdaining
the constitution and laws of the country. He was impolitic enough to
attack a constitution which, thanks to the devotion of the people, had
withstood the shock of seven centuries. He was unwise enough to suppose
that the people, in whose hearts the love of their ancient constitution
had taken deep root, for the defence of which rivers of blood had been
shed, could be prevailed upon to relinquish it to satisfy a theory of
royalty. The old political organization was eminently an outgrowth of
the Hungarian nationality, and all classes of the people, including
the very peasantry to whom the ancient constitution meant only
oppression, clung to it with devoted fervor. The people were as anxious
for reforms as Joseph himself, but they wanted them by lawful methods,
and with the co-operation of the nation and their Diet. Joseph might
have become the regenerator and benefactor of Hungary if he had availed
himself, for the realization of his grand objects, of the national and
lawful channels which lay ready to his hand. But he, unfortunately,
preferred attempting to achieve his purpose out of the plenitude of his
own power, by imperial edicts and arbitrary measures, thus conjuring up
a storm against himself which well-nigh shook his throne, and plunging
the nation into a wild ferment of passion bordering on revolution.
The people presented a solid phalanx against Joseph’s attacks upon
their nationality and language, which to them were objects dearer than
every thing else. They little cared for the emperor’s well-intentioned
endeavors to make them prosperous and happy as long as he asked, in
exchange, for the relinquishment of their nationality. And this, above
all, was his most ardent wish. He wanted Hungary to be Hungarian no
more, and wished its people to cast off the distinctive marks of their
individuality, and to adopt the German language, instead of their own,
in the schools, the public administration, and in judicial proceedings.
In a word, he made German the official language of the country, and was
bent on forcing it upon the people.
Henceforth every reform coming from Joseph became hateful to the
people. The oppressed classes themselves spurned relief which
involved the sacrifice of their sweet mother-tongue. By proclaiming
equal rights and equal subjection to the burdens of the state, he
arrayed the privileged classes against his person. The Protestants
and the peasantry, who had hailed him in the beginning as their new
Messiah, and fondly saw in his innovations the dawn of brighter
days, also turned from him as soon as he attacked them in what they
prized even more than liberty and justice. It was not long before
the whole country, without distinction of class, social standing, or
creed, combined to set at naught the Germanizing efforts of Joseph.
The hard-fought struggle roused the people, hitherto divided by
antagonisms of class and creed, to a sense of national solidarity. It
was during the critical days of these constitutional conflicts that the
foundations of the modern homogeneousness of the Hungarian nation and
society were laid down.
The privileged classes looked upon Joseph, on his advent to the
throne, with distrust. They foresaw that he would not allow himself
to be crowned, in order to avoid taking the oath of fidelity to the
constitution of Hungary. The first measures of his reign concerned the
organization of the various churches of the country. He extended the
religious freedom of the Protestant Church. By virtue of the apostolic
rights of the Hungarian kings, he introduced signal reforms into the
Catholic Church, especially regarding the education of the clergy,
which proved, in part, exceedingly salutary. He abolished numerous
religious orders, especially those which were not engaged either
in teaching or nursing the sick. One hundred and forty monasteries
and nunneries were closed by him in Hungary. The ample property of
these convents he employed for ecclesiastical and public purposes and
for the advancement of instruction. He exerted himself strenuously
and successfully in the establishment of public schools and in the
interest of popular education. He removed the only university of
which the country could then boast from Buda to Pesth, a city which
was rapidly increasing, and added a theological department to that
seat of learning. All these innovations met with the approval of the
enlightened elements of the nation, whilst the privileged classes and
the clergy opposed them with sullen discontent. The opposition was all
the more successful, as the emperor had contrived to insult the moral
susceptibilities of the common people by some of his measures. Thus,
with a view to economizing the boards required for coffins, he ordered
the dead to be sewed up in sacks, and to be buried in this apparel.
This uncalled-for meddling with the prejudices of the lower classes
had the effect of creating a great indignation among them, and of
driving them into the camp of the opposition. Trifling and thoughtless
measures of a similar nature impaired the credit of the most salutary
innovations. The people looked with suspicion at every change, and,
heedless of the lofty endeavors of the emperor, everybody, including
the officials themselves, rejected the entire governmental system of
Joseph.
The emperor also wounded the national feeling of piety by his action
concerning the crown he had spurned. According to ancient custom and
law the sacred crown was kept in safety in Presburg, in a building
provided for that purpose. In 1784 the emperor ordered the crown to be
removed to Vienna, in order to be placed there in the royal treasury
side by side with the crowns of his other lands. The nation revolted
at this profanation of their hallowed relic, and the highest official
authorities, throughout the land, protested against a measure which,
while it created such widespread ill feeling, was not justified by any
necessity. A dreadful storm, accompanied by thunder and lightning, was
raging when the crown was removed to Vienna, and the people saw in this
a sign that nature herself rebelled against the sacrilege committed by
the emperor. The counties continued to urge the return of the crown
in addresses which were sometimes humbly suppliant in their tone and
sometimes threatening, but Joseph did not yield either to supplications
or menaces.
[Illustration: SLOVAK WOMAN AND CHILDREN.]
When the edict, which made German the official language of the country,
was published, the minds of men all over the country were already
greatly disturbed. It is true, that hitherto the Latin and not the
Hungarian language had been the medium of communication employed by the
state. But the national spirit and the native tongue, which during the
first seventy years of the eighteenth century had sadly degenerated,
were awakening to new life during Joseph’s reign. The literature of
the country began to be assiduously cultivated in different spheres.
Royal body-guards belonging to distinguished families, gentlemen of
refinement, clergymen of modest position, and other sons of the native
soil labored with equal zeal and enthusiasm to foster their cherished
mother-tongue. It would, therefore, have been an easy matter for Joseph
to replace the Latin language, which had become an anachronism, by the
Hungarian, and thus to restore the latter to its natural and legal
position in the state. He was perfectly right in ridding the country of
the mastery of a dead tongue, but he committed a most fatal error in
trying to substitute for it the German, an error which avenged itself
most bitterly. Joseph entertained a special antipathy to the Hungarian
tongue, a dislike which betrayed him into omitting the teaching of the
native language from the course of public instruction, and refusing
to allow an academy of sciences to be established which had its
cultivation for its object.
The emperor’s attack upon the language of the nation irremediably
broke the last tie between him and the country, and, henceforth, the
relations between them could be only hostile. The counties assumed
a threatening attitude, some of them refusing obedience altogether.
Thus most of them declined to give their official co-operation to
the army officers who had been delegated by the emperor to take the
census. The count, nevertheless, proceeded, but in many places the
inhabitants escaped to the woods, and in some there were serious riots
in consequence of the opposition to the commissioners of the census.
A rising of a different character took place amongst the Wallachs.
The Wallachs, smarting under abuses of long standing, buoyed up by
exaggerated expectations consequent upon the emperor’s innovations,
and stirred up by evil-minded agitators, took to arms and perpetrated
the most outrageous atrocities against their Hungarian landlords. The
ignorant common people were assured by their leaders, Hora and Kloska,
that the emperor himself sided with them. The Wallach insurgents
assassinated the government’s commissioners sent to them, destroyed 60
villages and 182 gentlemen’s mansions, and killed 4,000 Hungarians,
before they could be checked in their bloody work. Although they were
finally crushed and punished, a strong belief prevailed in the country
that the court of Vienna had been privy to the Wallach rising.
Joseph subsequently laid down most humane rules regulating the
relations between the bondmen and their landlords. But the country
could not be appeased by any boon, especially as the high protective
tariff, just then established for the benefit of the Austrian
provinces, was seriously damaging the prosperity of the people.
Joseph’s foreign policy tended to increase the domestic disaffection.
In 1788 he declared war against Turkey, but the campaign turned out
unsuccessful, and nearly terminated with the emperor’s capture. The
nation, emboldened by his defeat, urged now more emphatically her
demands, and requested the emperor to annul his illegal edicts, to
submit to be crowned, and to restore the ancient constitution. Joseph
continuing to resist her demands, most of the counties refused to
contribute in aid of the war either money or produce. In addition
to their recalcitrant attitude, they most energetically pressed the
emperor to convoke the Diet at Buda, a few counties going even so far
as to insist upon the Chief Justice’s convoking it, if the emperor
failed to do so before May, 1790.
The courage of the nation rose still higher when the news of the
revolution in France and the revolt in Belgium reached the country.
The people refused to furnish recruits and military aid, and the
emperor was compelled to use violence in order to obtain either. The
counties remained firm and continued to remonstrate in addresses
characterized by sharp and energetic language. Joseph yielded at last.
He was prostrated by a grave illness, and feeling his end approaching
he wished to die in peace with the exasperated nation he had so deeply
wounded. On the 28th of January, 1790, he retracted all his illegal
edicts, excepting those that had reference to religious toleration, the
peasantry, and the clergy, and re-established the ancient constitution
of the country. Soon after he sent back the crown to Buda, where its
return was celebrated with great pomp, amidst the enthusiastic shouts
of the people. Before he could yet convoke the Diet death terminated
the emperor’s career on the 20th of February. The world lost in him
a great and noble-minded man and a friend to humanity, who, however,
had been unable to realize all his lofty intentions. The effect of his
reign was to rouse Hungary from the apathy into which it had sunk,
and at the time of Joseph’s death, the minds of the people were a
prey to an excitement no less feverish than that which had seized
revolutionary France at the same period.
But while in Paris democracy was victorious over royalty, the latter
had to yield in Hungary to the privileged nobility. The restored
constitution was a charter of political privileges for the nobles
only, and as such was most jealously guarded by them. This class kept
a strict watch over the liberal tendencies of the age, preventing the
importation of democratic ideas from France from fear of harm to their
exclusive immunities.
Joseph was succeeded by his brother, Leopold II., who until now had
been Grand Duke of Tuscany. The new ruler was as enlightened as his
predecessor, and had as much the welfare of the people at heart; but
he respected, at the same time, the laws and the constitution. He
immediately convoked the Diet in order to be crowned, and by this
act he solemnly sealed the peace with the nation. The people hailed
with joy this first step of their new king, and there was nothing in
the way of their now obtaining lawfully from the good-will of the
king the salutary legislation which Joseph had attempted to force
arbitrarily upon them. But the fond hopes in this direction were
doomed to disappointment. The national movement had not helped to
power those who were in favor of progress, equality of rights, and
democracy. No doubt there were people in the country who differed from
the men in authority, who were sincerely attached to the doctrines
of the French Revolution and eager to supplant the privileges of the
nobles by the broader rights belonging to all humanity. The national
literature was in the hands of men of this class. They combated the
reactionary spirit of the nobility, and contended for the recognition
of the civil and political rights of by far the largest portion of
the people, the non-nobles. They boldly and with generous enthusiasm
wielded the pen in defence of those noble ideas, and indoctrinated
the people with them as much as the restraints placed upon the press
allowed it at that period. They succeeded in obtaining recruits for
their ideas from the very ranks of the privileged classes, and many an
enlightened magnate admitted that the time had arrived for modernizing
the constitution of Hungary by an extension of political rights.
Their number was swelled also by the more intelligent portion of the
inhabitants of the cities, and those educated patriotic people who,
although no gentle blood flowed in their veins, had either obtained
office under Joseph’s reign or had imbibed the political views of that
monarch. But all of these men combined formed but an insignificant
fraction of the people compared to the numerous nobility, who, after
their enforced submission during ten years, were eager to turn to the
advantage of their own class the victory they had achieved over Joseph.
During the initial preparations for the elections to the Diet, and
in the course of the elections, sentiments were publicly uttered and
obtained a majority in the county assemblies, which caused a feverish
commotion amongst the common people and the peasantry. The latter
especially now eagerly clung to innovations introduced by the Emperor
Joseph, so beneficial as regarded their own class, and were reluctant
to submit to the restoration of the former arbitrary landlord system.
Their remonstrances were answered by the counties to the effect that
Providence had willed it so that some men should be kings, others
nobles, and others again bondmen. Such cruel reasoning failed to
satisfy the aggrieved peasantry. Symptoms of a dangerous revolutionary
spirit showed themselves throughout a large portion of the country, and
an outbreak could be prevented only by the timely assurance, on the
part of the counties, that the matter would be submitted to the Diet
about to assemble.
The Diet, which had not been convened for twenty-five years, opened in
Buda in the beginning of June, 1790. The coronation soon took place.
Fifty years had elapsed since the last similar pageant had been enacted
in Hungary. After a lengthy and vehement contest extending over ten
months, in the course of which the Diet was removed from Buda to
Presburg, the laws of 1790-1791, which form part of the fundamental
articles of the Hungarian constitution, were finally passed. By
them the independence of Hungary as a state obtained the fullest
recognition. The laws, which were the result of the co-operation of
the crown and the Estates, declared that Hungary was an independent
country, subject to no other country, possessing her own constitution
by which alone she was to be governed. Important concessions were also
made to the rights of the citizens of the country. The privileges of
the nobility were left intact, but the extreme wing of the reactionary
nobles had to rest satisfied with this acquiescence in the former state
of things, and were not allowed to push the narrow-minded measures
advocated by them. The majority of the Diet was influenced in their
wise moderation, partly by the exalted views of the king, and to a
greater extent yet by the disaffected spirit rife amongst the people,
and especially threatening amongst the Serb population of the country.
The laws secured the liberties of the Protestant and the Greek united
churches, remedied the most urgent griefs of the peasantry, and
declared those who were not noble capable of holding minor offices.
Although the most important measures of reform were put off to a future
time by the diet of 1790-1791, several preparatory royal commissions
having been appointed for their consideration, yet the work it
accomplished was the salutary beginning of a liberal legislation which
culminated, not quite sixty years later, in the declaration of the
equal rights of the people as the basis of the Hungarian commonwealth.
After the meeting of this Diet, however, very little was done in the
direction of reforms. The good work was interrupted, partly by the
premature death of Leopold II. (March 1, 1792), and partly by the
warlike period, extending over twenty-five years, which, in Hungary
as throughout all Europe, claimed public attention, and diverted the
minds of the leaders of the nation from domestic topics. Francis I.,
the son and successor of Leopold II., caused himself to be crowned in
due form, and much was at first hoped from his reign. But the Jacobin
rule of terror in Paris, and the dread of seeing the revolutionary
scenes repeated in his own realm, wrought a complete change in his
character and policy. He soon stubbornly rejected every innovation,
and gradually became a pillar of strength for the European reaction,
that extravagant conservatism which expected to efface the effects of
the French Revolution by an unquestioning adherence to the old and
traditional order of things. This illiberal spirit of the monarch
rendered impossible for the time any further reform-movement in
Hungary. Every question of desirable change met with the most obstinate
opposition on the part of the king, and the reforms submitted by the
royal commissions were considered by every successive Diet without ever
becoming law. The period which now followed was gloomy in the extreme,
as well for Hungary as for the Austrian provinces of Francis I. The
inhabitants of these countries were constantly called upon by the king
in the course of the wars to make sacrifices in treasure and blood,
by furnishing recruits and by paying high taxes. At the same time the
government resorted to the most absolute and arbitrary measures to
prevent the people from being contaminated with French ideas. The press
was crushed by severe penalties. Every enlightened idea was banished
from the schools and expunged from the school-books. Only men, for
whose extreme reactionary spirit the police could vouch, were appointed
to the professorships or to other offices. A system of universal spying
and secret information caused everybody to be suspected and to suffer
from private vindictiveness, whilst those who dared to avow liberal
views were the objects of cruel persecution.
The numerically few but staunch adherents of democracy, being thus
debarred from openly laboring for their views, endeavored to accomplish
their purposes by secret combinations. A secret society was formed in
Pesth, the centre of the political life of the country. This league of
Hungarian Jacobins had but a confused idea of its own aims, and of the
means of achieving them. They produce, at this distance of time, the
impression of an organization, indulging in crude, exaggerated, and
even thoughtless visions, but theirs, nevertheless, is the credit of
having been the first society of the kind in the country, and of thus
furnishing a link in the political development of the public spirit in
Hungary. Although the members of the league were unable to secure any
tangible results, yet they deserve a place in the national history as
the first martyrs of universal freedom and human rights in Hungary, for
they forfeited their lives or suffered long imprisonments for the holy
cause. The movement was originally planned by Ignatius Martinovics,
a learned abbot who entered into relations with the Jacobins abroad,
first with those of Paris, and afterwards with their sympathizers in
Germany and Austria. With the assistance of these he intended to bring
about a republic of Hungary, and to establish there the doctrines of
equality and liberty. He organized for that purpose a secret society
in Pesth, after the pattern of the masonic societies, which were then
flourishing throughout the country. There were in point of fact two
distinct associations, one called _the reformers_, the other styled
_the friends of liberty and equality_. The former knew nothing of
the designs of the latter, whilst these, occupying a higher rank,
were fully initiated into the secrets of the reformers. The aim of
both alike was to insure the triumph of the principles of the French
Revolution. The members recognized each other by secret signs, and used
in their correspondence a cipher devised for the purpose. Martinovics’
scheme was to hoist the revolutionary flag as soon as the increased
number of members in both societies might render such a step advisable.
Meanwhile the sole business of the members consisted in spreading among
the people a catechism conceived in a revolutionary spirit.
Martinovics commenced the organization of the secret society in the
spring of 1794. He was assisted in his work by John Laczkovics,
formerly a captain in the army, Joseph Hajnóczi, an ex-_alispán_
(vicecomes or deputy sheriff of a county), and Francis Szentmarjay, a
young man of distinction, who were all zealously engaged in recruiting
members for the new association. Among the latter, however, but few
knew of Martinovics’ ultimate object, or of his French connections.
Most of them thought that it was his intention to secure the
introduction of reforms by lawful means. As to the secret character of
the society, they looked upon it as a concession to the fashion of the
period, introduced by the freemasons. During the eighteenth century
a real mania for secrecy of this kind prevailed all over Europe,
and secret societies sprang up in every quarter for purposes which,
if publicly proclaimed, would have met with no opposition whatever.
The society of the Hungarian Jacobins did not owe its existence to
subversionary tendencies, but to that eagerness for reforms which
never ceased to agitate the nation. With the exception of a dozen
unreflecting men who dreamt of overthrowing the Hungarian monarchy
with the aid of the French, the rank and file were entirely composed
of men who believed in reforms achieved by lawful methods. The leaders
themselves, Martinovics, Hajnóczi, and Laczkovics, had filled important
offices under the Emperor Joseph, and had subsequently supported King
Leopold in his efforts at reform. If Leopold had lived, every one of
them would have borne a conspicuous part in public affairs. But the
triumph of the reactionary spirit under the reign of King Francis made
them conspirators. Those of their friends who joined them were all
honest and enthusiastic patriots, who saw in the success of democratic
ideas the welfare of Hungary. But they did not look to a revolution for
the realization of their fond hopes. They entered the society for the
sole purpose of preparing the minds of their countrymen for reforms to
be obtained by constitutional means. Almost every Hungarian writer, who
was not in some dependent position, belonged to the society. Amongst
these was Francis Kazinczy, the regenerator of Hungarian literature,
and one of the most respectable members of the literary guild. The
French ideas found a grateful echo among the intelligent elements of
the country. The reports of French victories were hailed with joy in
the capital, by the professors at the university, and the students, as
well as by people in the country, especially in the county of Zemplén,
the home of Kazinczy. Liberty poles were erected in several places,
many hoping that the victories of the French would establish in Hungary
the reign of liberty and equality. These demonstrations, however,
were entirely independent, and were not inspired by Martinovics. Such
occurrences reflected only the effect of foreign events on the public
mind of Hungary, which had at all times been open to influences from
abroad, and which did not fail, in this instance, to respond to the
voice of humanity which then rang out through a large portion of the
Western world.
The secret society confined its work to procuring fresh members and to
a wide distribution of their political catechisms. The number of the
members amounted altogether to seventy-five, of whom twenty-seven lived
in Pesth, and the remainder belonged to every part of the country.
Only three months had elapsed after the organization of the society
when Martinovics was arrested in Vienna, and Laczkovics, Szentmarjay,
and Hajnóczy in Pesth. The Viennese police had discovered the Austrian
fraternity, and, finding Martinovics amongst its leaders, detained him
at once. Martinovics while in prison made a full confession of every
thing, and the arrests in Hungary were the consequence. About fifty men
were thrown into prison. At the time of their arrest, the distribution
of a few revolutionary pamphlets excepted, no deed, subversive of the
public order, could be traced to the secret society of which they were
members. It was therefore hoped that the government, in punishing them,
would act with moderation and humanity. King Francis disappointed such
hopes. He ordered them to be prosecuted without mercy, being determined
to set a terrifying example, and, by inaugurating a reactionary reign
of terror, to discourage his subjects from sympathizing with French
ideas. Eighteen prisoners were sentenced to death, but Martinovics and
six of his companions only were executed. They lost their heads by
the executioner’s sword on the meadow in Buda, a spot called to this
day the field of blood. The remaining prisoners, with few exceptions,
were sentenced to longer and shorter terms of imprisonment, and two
of the suspected escaped arrest by suicide. Francis Kazinczy suffered
severe imprisonment in an Austrian dungeon during eight long years,
and numerous other Hungarian writers were similarly deprived of their
liberty.
These bloody executions created widespread dismay in the country.
No one felt safe, for everybody was ignorant of the nature of the
crimes with which the unhappy victims had been charged. The counties
remonstrated, in addresses sent to the king, against these cruel
proceedings, but without any effect. Francis pensioned off five
liberal professors at the university, interdicted the teaching of
Kant’s philosophy at that seat of learning, began to persecute every
enlightened man in the country, and especially delighted in vexing in
every possible way the intelligent element of Zemplén County. The
friends of liberty, the men of progress, were thoroughly frightened.
The press, too, was fettered by the government, and thus, by degrees,
public life in Hungary became torpid and stagnant, the adherents of
reform were reduced to silence, and innovations had to bide their
time. The reactionary government achieved a complete victory. It
banished from the high offices even the most moderate men, and filled
every place of importance with persons who delighted in relentlessly
repressing every democratic impulse in Hungary.
The Diets which met during this period paid no attention whatever to
reforms. Their main function consisted in voting considerable supplies
in money and soldiers for the war against the French. The Hungarian
nation sacrificed a great deal for her king during the Napoleonic
wars, and, when the hostile armies were approaching the border of the
country, every noble personally took up arms to defend the throne of
his crowned king with his life and blood. The gentry distinguished
themselves by their devotion, especially in 1809. Napoleon made the
Hungarians the most enticing offers in order to seduce them from their
allegiance to King Francis. He called upon them by proclamation to
abandon Francis, to elect, under the French protectorate, a king of
their own, and to restore Hungary to complete independence. But the
Hungarian nation remained unshaken in their devotion to the king, and
rallied round him and the ancient dynasty. The French, failing in their
scheme, entered Hungary. The Hungarians gallantly defended their
native soil, but were defeated near Raab, owing to the incapacity of
their Austrian generals. During the whole Napoleonic contest, to its
termination, in 1815, Hungary made immense sacrifices for the royal
throne, and thousands of her sons shed their blood in its defence, on
the most distant battlefields of Europe.
Francis but scantily rewarded the fidelity of the nation. He always had
words of praise for the Hungarians, but constantly put off remedying
the evils they complained of. The long wars, paralyzing commerce
and trade, had fatally affected the prosperity of the country. The
government, in order to meet the expenses of the continuous wars, had
issued paper money to such an enormous extent that the paper currency
became completely depreciated. The depreciation of one florin to
one fifth of its face value was subsequently officially promulgated
by the government, causing thereby immense losses to the people. To
these miseries were added the numerous illegal acts and arbitrary
and unconstitutional proceedings of the government, which continued
even after Napoleon had been safely chained to the rock of St. Helena
and peace began anew to dawn upon the world. The reign of reaction
and absolutism which set in in Europe in 1815 extended its baneful
influence also over Hungary. The constitution was completely ignored
by the king and no Diet was convened. These were sad days for Hungary.
There was no one to promote her national interests, and her advancement
in culture was hampered by the meddling rule of the Austrian police.
And, indeed, had not, about this time, the national literature infused
a fresh and hopeful spirit into the body politic, Hungary would have
presented a most deplorable picture of apathy and despair. Literature,
science, and poetry, the cultivation of which was sadly interrupted by
the imprisonment of most of their votaries in 1795, in consequence of
the Martinovics conspiracy, became powerful agencies in rousing the
nation to renewed political activity. Numerous distinguished writers
sprang up, exerting themselves to inculcate lessons of patriotism
and national self-respect into the minds of the people who had been
arbitrarily debarred from the most telling influences of legitimate
culture by the Viennese government. The latter at last thought that
the time had arrived when the absolute government prevailing in her
Austrian dominions might be established with safety also in Hungary.
The first attempt made by King Francis in this direction was to levy,
arbitrarily, solely by his own authority and without the consent of
the Diet (which was necessary under the law), 35,000 recruits for the
army. This illegal exaction of the king created a tremendous commotion
amongst the people, and resulted in a most desperate conflict between
the Hungarian nation and the Viennese government. The political contest
which lasted five years newly inflamed the national enthusiasm. King
Francis finally saw the error of his ways, acknowledged the illegality
of his action, and returned to constitutional government. He summoned
the Diet, in 1825, which, continuing the work of reform checked in
1791, gave the impulse to a new era of modern progress in Hungary.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XV.
SZÉCHENYI, KOSSUTH, AND THE STRUGGLE FOR LIBERTY IN 1848-1849.
On one of the most picturesque positions in Buda-Pesth, on the left
bank of the majestic Danube, stands the bronze statue of Stephen
Széchenyi, the greatest Hungarian of this century. The piety of the
nation has placed it in the midst of her most conspicuous creations.
At its feet rolls the mighty river whose regulation was commenced by
Széchenyi, who made it a line of communication in the commercial system
of Europe; in front is seen the grand suspension bridge, and beyond it
is visible the mouth of the tunnel which, piercing the castled mountain
of Buda, connects the dispersed parts of the city. In the rear rise
the palatial edifices of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, which owes
its existence to Széchenyi’s munificence, and round about stretches
noisy, surging Buda-Pesth, to whose embellishment and enlightenment
no one ever devoted himself so zealously as Stephen Széchenyi. Every
thing surrounding the statue reminds us of the transcendent genius of
Széchenyi, who raised for himself by his indefatigable labors, which
form a link between old and modern Hungary, a monument more lasting
and grander than the one cast in bronze.
[Illustration: GYPSY HUTS.]
Stephen Széchenyi was born on the 21st of September, 1791. He was the
scion of a family which had given many distinguished men to their
country, and with whom patriotism was traditional. His father, Count
Francis, was the founder of the greatest institute of Hungary, having
public culture for its aim, the National Museum of Buda-Pesth, which is
now reckoned one of the finest and richest of the kind in Europe. Count
Francis clung with passionate devotion to the cause of his country.
The tender mind of his son Stephen was often puzzled to see his father
melancholy and lost in thought, and later only, when grown to manhood,
did he learn that his father had been grieving over the backwardness of
his country. Count Stephen inherited the patriotic sentiments of his
father, and never for a moment lost sight of the one great object of
his life, to revive the now decaying nation, which had acted so proud
a part in the past, and to secure for her a better future by promoting
her material and cultural interests. Stephen Széchenyi became the
apostle of this patriotic mission; he devoted his whole life to this
one lofty thought, studying for many years, reflecting, travelling,
gathering knowledge, and when the hour arrived to enter upon the scene
of action, he took the lead of the nation, aptly equipped for the
severe task.
[Illustration: OLD GYPSY WOMAN.]
He finished his studies under the roof of his father, who was a man
of high culture. The turmoils of the Napoleonic wars, shaking all
Europe and with it Hungary, allowed but scant opportunity for
peaceful avocations when Count Stephen had reached his sixteenth
year. He accordingly entered the army and gallantly took part, as a
young officer, in the wars of the period, being present at the famous
battle of Leipsic. The Congress of Vienna put an end to the wars which
had raged in Europe for twenty-five years, and during the protracted
period of peace following it, Széchenyi bestowed his attention upon
the affairs of his country. Before taking an active part, however, he
travelled for a considerable time through Italy, France, and England,
and only after having become familiar with the advanced civilization
of foreign countries did he return to his own, filled with grand
ideas, with lofty, patriotic feelings, his brain seething, and his
soul thirsting for action, in order to conquer for himself a sphere of
public activity.
The Diet of 1825 afforded him a fitting opportunity in this direction.
During the thirteen years preceding the convoking of this Diet the
country had been ruled in the most absolute manner. The government
ignored, during that period, the constitution, collected by force of
arms and arbitrarily illegal taxes, filled, in the same despotic way,
the ranks of the army, fettered the liberty of the press, and deprived
the nation of her ancient rights. These acts of violence stirred up
the indignation of the country, and the natural reaction was still
more roused and fostered by the dawning Hungarian literature which
proclaimed a brighter future to the nation. Csokonai, Francis Kazinczy,
Alexander and Charles Kisfaludy, Michael Vörösmarty, Francis Kölcsey,
and other eminent writers were the fathers of a new era in Hungarian
literature, and by their works they kindled the national feeling and
roused the public spirit. The nation awoke and was eager to march in
the footsteps of the civilization of Europe. She only lacked a leader,
but in the course of the deliberations of the Diet of 1825, that leader
was found.
[Illustration: HALT OF GYPSIES.]
Stephen Széchenyi, being a member of the Upper House by right of birth,
took his seat there among the aristocracy of the land. His first act
was destined to be the precursor of a new epoch in the history of the
nation. On the 25th of October he made a short speech; his manner was
embarrassed and confused; but he spoke in Hungarian, a proceeding which
was looked upon at that time as a revolutionary act, full of boldness,
and which excited the utmost indignation of the highest circles. The
Latin language had until then remained, in keeping with the traditions
of the past, the official language of the House of Magnates, Széchenyi
was the first magnate who dared to cut loose from the ancient
tradition, and, although a great portion of his fellow-magnates,
especially the older ones, were shocked at the innovation, yet the
number of Hungarian-speaking great lords continually increased after
this, and the bold stand he took on that occasion had much to do with
the restoration of the national language to its rightful place.
Shortly after the Lower House witnessed the triumph achieved by him
in the cause of Hungarian culture. During the preliminary sessions
preceding the plenary ones, the question had been deliberated upon for
several days as to the best means of fostering the national language.
Széchenyi, with several of his noble friends, was present at one of
these conferences, listening and looking on. Each deputy in turn stated
his views on the subject. One of them, Paul Nagy, a distinguished
orator of the opposition, declared, with an air of deep conviction,
that to cultivate the Hungarian language with a view to make it
successfully compete with the Germanizing tendencies of the government,
and with the Latin language, it was necessary to establish a Hungarian
academy of sciences. To accomplish this, he added, money was needed,
and this could not be obtained from the government, which was hostile
to the scheme. Let the nation furnish the money, the great lords,
the owners of the vast fortunes and landed estates, setting first a
good example to the rest. The effect of these kindling words was a
thrilling one. Széchenyi immediately stepped forward, and, addressing
the presiding officer, asked leave to say a few words. Amidst the
general attention of those present he briefly stated that he was ready
to contribute one year’s entire income from his estates to a fund
wherewith to found an institute whose object would be the fostering
of the Hungarian language. These simple words were received with a
storm of applause. A remarkable spectacle now ensued. One man after
another arose eager to contribute to the fund of the future Hungarian
Academy of Sciences, and the sum was soon swelled to 154,000 florins,
Széchenyi’s contribution alone amounting to 60,000 florins. The
institute was soon established, and, thanks to the patriotic support
of the nation, the funds of the Academy exceed at present 2,000,000
florins. The activity of this institute has proved, for the last fifty
years, most beneficial to the development of the Hungarian language and
the advancement of science in the country.
This munificent act placed Széchenyi at once in the front ranks of
the nation, and the very enthusiasm roused by his generous patriotism
was the means of exciting his best energies, and of spurring him on
to further action. Széchenyi, although acting, on the whole, with
the exceedingly moderate opposition, which was conservative and not
unfrequently quite reactionary, influenced as it was by the famous
policy of Prince Metternich, never became a member of either of the
political parties. His leading idea was that the first thing to be
done was to improve the material and intellectual condition of the
people, and to increase the prosperity and culture of the country. He
had founded in the interest of civilization the Hungarian Academy, and
now he labored enthusiastically to improve the commercial, industrial,
and economical condition of the country. In this work he had to contend
with all sorts of obstacles and prejudices on the part not only of the
higher circles, but of the very class that was to be benefited by his
reforms. But Széchenyi did not lose heart, and, undisturbed by many a
bitter experience, he undeviatingly pursued his own course, and carried
through with an iron will every measure deemed beneficial by him. His
busy brain never ceased to devise new patriotic schemes, and to make
them acceptable to the people. He won back the estranged aristocracy
of the country, and assigned to them a leading position in national
politics; he strove to raise the capital to a European level, and
advanced the national prosperity by the discovery of new resources,
the opening of new roads of communication, and by the creation of many
useful public institutions. He had equal regard for the interests of
all classes, from the lord to the peasant, and thus strove, while yet
surrounded by the antiquated order of things, to awaken the people to
a sense of national consciousness, and to promote the recognition of
the solidarity of interests between all the classes of the nation. His
busy brain embraced every public interest, and he exerted every social
and economical agency to ripen in the nation the notions of modern
European civilization. He was a powerful agitator, in equal degrees
master of the sword and the pen, and although his whole individuality,
his character, and his habits bore the stamp of the aristocratic circle
in which he was born and educated, yet, by dint of his conspicuous and
many-sided labors, he in reality was the most indefatigable champion
and pioneer of democratic ideas in his own country.
His first great literary work (a smaller one had preceded it), entitled
“Credit,” was published in 1830, and in it he treated of economical
questions of the most immediate importance to the country. It was
a work of great power, marked by scholarly thoroughness, practical
statesmanship, and poetic elevation, and produced an extraordinary
sensation throughout the country. It was read everywhere, in the
palaces of the magnates, in the mansions of the provincial gentry,
and in the homes and offices of merchants and tradesmen. The book was
spoken of in the most exalted terms by some, while others declared
its author to be a communist and revolutionary agitator. The foes to
progress, the defenders of the decaying privileges of the nobility,
burned the book, while the friends of the new ideas, and especially the
rising generation, saw in it the gospel of a new era. It was in this
work that Széchenyi, addressing the generation that vainly clung to the
reminiscences of the past, said: “Do not constantly trouble yourselves
with the vanished glories of the past, but rather let your determined
patriotism bring about the prosperity of the beloved fatherland. Many
there are who think that _Hungary has been_, but for my part I like to
think that _Hungary shall be_.”
Under the influence of these exalted ideas Széchenyi persevered in his
practical efforts for the common weal. He wrote a great deal up to
the time of his death, and some of his works are justly ranked among
the gems of Hungarian literature. But more precious than these are
his practical creations, which still, for the most part, survive, and
which are destined to perpetuate his fame for many centuries to come.
His busy mind attended to every variety of matters of public concern.
Thus it was he who introduced horse-racing into the country, not for
the purpose of affording a mere gentlemanly pastime, but with the
object of developing horse-breeding in Hungary, an object which has
been very successfully accomplished by the new sport. In furtherance
of this object he formed a society which subsequently became the
National Breeding Association, which flourishes to this day. In order
to afford to the gentry permanently a rallying and central point in
the country, he established the Buda-Pesth National Casino, a social
club of high distinction, still in existence and enjoying an enviable
reputation in the best European circles. He took quite an active part
in the management of the new Academy of Sciences; zealously supported
the efforts made to found a permanent national theatre, efforts which
subsequently proved successful; started and realized the scheme for
building a permanent bridge across the Danube, connecting Pesth and
Buda, and for the construction of a tunnel under the castled mountain
of Buda; conducted for years the work of regulating the Danube,
especially in the vicinity of the Vaskapu (Iron Gate); and also aided
in the establishment of the Danube Steam Navigation Company, which
at this day has hundreds of ships engaged in the local and export
trade. His most glorious work, however, was the regulation of the
Theiss, resulting, in the course of time, in the reclaiming of a
marshy territory containing one hundred and fifty square miles, and
turning it into a rich and fertile soil. His mind was teeming, besides,
with various schemes looking to the building of railways, and to the
promotion of commerce and industry; but all these various undertakings
were marked by the same steady spirit of patriotic endeavor.
For fifteen years, up to 1840, the popularity of Széchenyi had gone
on increasing throughout the country, and his name was cherished by
every good patriot in the land. About this time, however, the great
statesman was destined to come into collision with a man who was his
peer in genius and abilities. The two patriots were representatives
of different methods, and in the contest produced by the shock of
antagonistic tendencies Széchenyi was compelled to yield to Louis
Kossuth, his younger rival. Although there was no material difference
between their aims, for both wished to see their country great, free,
constitutionally governed, prosperous, and advanced in civilization,
yet in the ways and means employed by them to attain that aim they
were diametrically opposed to each other. Széchenyi, who descended
from a family of ancient and aristocratic lineage, and presented
himself to the nation with connections reaching up into the highest
circles of the court, with the lustre of his ancient name, and with
his immense fortune, wished to secure the happiness of his country by
quite different methods from those adopted by Louis Kossuth, a child
of the people, who, although he was a nobleman by birth, yet belonged
to that poorer class of gentry who support themselves by their own
exertions, and who, in Hungary, are destined to fulfil the mission of
the citizen-classes of other countries. It is from these classes of the
gentry that are, for the most part, recruited the tradespeople, the
smaller landowners, professional men, writers, subordinate officials,
lawyers, physicians, clergymen, teachers, and professors. By virtue
of their nobility, it is true, they belonged to the privileged
class of the country, and were not subjected to the humiliations
of the oppressed peasantry, yet they had to earn a living by their
own work, and were therefore not only accessible to, but were ready
enthusiastically to receive, the lofty message of liberty and equality
which the French Revolution of 1830 began to proclaim anew throughout
all Europe. These doctrines formed a sharp contrast to the views of
Count Stephen Széchenyi, views which, owing to the social position of
the man who held them, were not devoid of a certain aristocratic tinge,
and according to which the most important part in the regeneration
of the Hungarian nation was assigned to the aristocracy. It was a
part, however, which the Hungarian aristocracy was itself by no means
disposed to assume. Among its younger members, indeed, could be found,
here and there, enthusiastic men who were devotedly attached to the
person of the lordly reformer, but the great majority of his class
were hostilely arrayed against Széchenyi’s aims, and, obstructing the
granting of even the most inoffensive demands of the nation, supported
the Viennese government, which was rigidly opposed to political
reforms and to any changes in the public institutions of the country.
This attitude of the aristocracy compelled Széchenyi to avoid as much
as possible all questions concerning constitutionality and liberty,
and to confine the work of reform chiefly to the sphere of internal
improvements. The only way in which he could hope to obtain the support
of the court of Vienna and of the majority of the Upper House for his
politico-economical measures, was to remain as neutral as possible
in politics. The idea which chiefly governed his actions was that the
country should be first strengthened internally, and that afterwards it
would be easy for the nation to bring about the triumph of her national
and political aspirations.
After 1840, however, the bulk of the nation, and especially the small
gentry whose preponderating influence was making itself continually
felt, were unwilling to follow Széchenyi in his one-sided policy.
The reformatory work of Széchenyi during the preceding fifteen years
had educated public opinion up to new and great ideas, but the
leaders of that public opinion were now to be found in the House of
Representatives in the persons of Francis Deák and Louis Kossuth.
They wished to obtain for their country both political liberty and
material prosperity. They knew the effect of political institutions
upon the material well-being and civilization of a nation, and they
no longer deemed it possible to attain these objects without a modern
constitutional government. Louis Kossuth, who was born in 1802, was
the very incarnation of the great democratic ideas of his age. He
was entirely a man of work and entered the legal profession, after
having completed his studies with great distinction, for the purpose
of supporting himself by it. Kossuth was present at the Diet of
1832, when the government, which conducted itself most brutally and
arbitrarily towards the press, refused to allow the newspapers to print
reports of the deliberations of the Diet in spite of the repeated
urgings by the deputies for such an authorization, and it was owing
to his ingenuity that this prohibition was evaded. The censorship was
exercised on printed matter only and did not extend to manuscripts.
Kossuth wrote out the reports of the Diet himself, had numerous copies
made of them in writing, and circulated them, for a slight fee, in
every part of the country, where they were looked for with feverish
expectation, and, owing to the spirit of opposition with which they
were colored, were read with the greatest eagerness. This manuscript
newspaper produced quite a revolutionary movement amongst the people,
frightening even the Austrian government. The latter now attempted
to silence Kossuth by gentle means, promising him high offices and a
pension, but he refused the enticing offers and continued his work for
the benefit of the nation. Foiled in the attempt to lure Kossuth from
his duty, the government resorted to violence, seized the lithographic
apparatus by means of which Kossuth planned to multiply his manuscript
newspaper, and gave directions to the postmasters to detain and open
all those sealed packages which were supposed to contain the reports.
But these arbitrary proceedings of the government could not put an end
to the circulation of the newspaper; the country gentlemen, by their
own servants, continued to send each other single copies, and the
matter was given up only when the Diet ceased to be in session. Then
Kossuth, at the urgent request of his friends and, one might say, of
the whole country, started a new manuscript newspaper at Buda-Pesth,
which reported the deliberations of the county assemblies. The effect
produced by this new paper was fraught with even greater consequences
than the first had created, for it was instrumental in bringing
the counties into contact with each other, thus affording them an
opportunity to combine against the government. The latter, however,
soon prohibited its publication, but the prohibition gave rise to a
storm of indignation throughout the whole country. The counties in
solid array addressed protests to the government against the illegal
act and on behalf of Kossuth, who continued to publish the paper in
spite of the inhibition. The government at last resorted to the most
barefaced brutality. Kossuth, the brave champion of liberty, its
eloquent pen and herald, was dragged to a damp and dark subterranean
prison-cell in the castle of Buda, and detained there, whilst his
father and mother and his family, who were looking to him solely for
their support, were robbed of the aid of their natural protector.
Although at that period lawlessness was the order of the day, yet this
last cruel and illegal act of the government greatly exasperated the
public mind, which was already in a ferment of excitement. But while
the excited passions raged throughout the country, the government,
nothing loth, caused Kossuth to be prosecuted for high treason, and,
having obtained his conviction, had him sentenced to an imprisonment of
three years. Kossuth applied himself during his detention to serious
studies, and acquired also, while in prison, the English language to
such an extent that he was enabled to address in that language, during
his exile, with great effect and impressiveness, large audiences both
in England and in the United States of America. His imprisonment lasted
two long years, after the lapse of which he obtained, in 1840, a pardon
in consequence of the repeated and urgent representations of the Diet.
Kossuth returned to the scene of his former activity as the martyr of
free speech, and the victim to the cause of the nation. He very soon
found a new field in which to labor. The government perceived at last
that violence was of little avail, and that those questions which were
occupying the minds to such a degree could no longer be kept from being
publicly discussed by the press. Kossuth now obtained permission to
edit a political daily paper. Its publication was commenced under the
title of _Pesti Hirlap_ (Pesth Newspaper) in 1841, and may be said to
have created the political daily press of Hungary. It disseminated new
ideas among the masses, stirred up the indifferent to feel an interest
in the affairs of the country and gave a purpose to the national
aspirations. It proclaimed democratic reforms in every department; the
abolition of the privileges of the nobility and of their exemption from
taxation, equal rights and equal burdens for all the citizens of the
state, and the extension of public instruction, and it endeavored to
restore the Hungarian nationality to the place it was entitled to claim
in the organism of the state.
The wealth of ideas thus daily communicated to the country appeared
in the most attractive garb, for Kossuth possessed a masterly style,
and his leaders and shorter articles showed off to advantage so many
unexpected beauties of the Hungarian language, that his readers were
fairly enchanted and carried away by them. His articles were a happy
compound of poetical elevation and oratorical power, gratifying
common-sense and the imagination at the same time, appealing by their
lucid exposition to the reader’s intelligence, and exciting and warming
this fancy by their fervor. Kossuth always rightly guessed what
questions most interested the nation, and the daily press became, in
his hands, a power in Hungary, electrifying the masses, who were always
ready to give their unconditional support to his bold and far-reaching
schemes.
[Illustration: GYPSIES AND LADY.]
The extraordinary influence obtained by Kossuth through his paper
frightened Széchenyi, and, to even a greater degree, those whose
prejudices were shocked or ancient privileges and interests were
endangered by the democratic agitations for reform. Kossuth was
attacked in books, pamphlets, and newspapers, but he came out
victorious from all contests. In vain did Széchenyi himself, backed by
his great authority in the land, assail him, declaring that he did not
object to Kossuth’s ideas, but that his manner and his tactics were
reprehensible, and that the latter were sure to lead to a revolution.
The great mass of the people felt instinctively that revolution had
become a necessity and was unavoidable, if Hungary was to pass from
the old mediæval order to the establishment of modern institutions,
and was to become a state where equality before the law should be
the ruling standard. The masses were strengthened in this conviction
by the unreasonable, short-sighted, and violent policy pursued by the
government of Vienna, which obstructed the slightest reforms in the
ancient institutions and opposed every national aspiration, and under
whose protecting wing the reactionary elements of the Upper House
were constantly paralyzing the noblest and best efforts made by the
Lower House for the public weal, while the same government arbitrarily
supported claims of the Catholic clergy, in flat contradiction to
the rights and liberties of the various denominations inhabiting the
country. The government, in its antipathy to the national movement,
went even further. It secretly incited the other nationalities,
especially the Croats, against the Hungarians, and thus planted the
seeds from which sprang the subsequent great civil war. In observing
the dangerous symptoms preceding the last-mentioned movement, and the
bloody scenes and fights provoked at every election by the hirelings
of the government, in order to intimidate the adherents of reform, the
friends of progress became more and more convinced that the period of
moderation, such as preached by Széchenyi, had passed by, and must
give way to that resolute policy, advocated by Kossuth, which recoiled
from no consequences. Numerous magnates, all the chief leaders of
the gentry, boasting of enlightenment and patriotism, and imbued
with European culture, rallied around Kossuth, until finally the
public opinion of the country and the enthusiasm of which he was the
centre caused him to be returned, in 1847, together with Count Louis
Batthyányi, as deputy from the foremost county of the country, the
county of Pesth.
During the first months the Diet of 1847—’8, which was to raise
Hungary to the rank of those countries that proclaimed equal rights
and possessed a responsible parliamentary government, differed very
little from the one preceding it. The opposition initiated, as before,
great reforms, but there was no one who believed that their realization
was near at hand. Kossuth repeatedly addressed the House, and soon
convinced his audience that he was as irresistible an orator as he had
proved powerful as a writer. But there was nothing to indicate that the
country was on the eve of a great transformation.
The revolution of February, 1848, which broke out in Paris, changed,
as if by magic, the relative positions of Austria and Hungary.
Metternich’s system of government, which was opposed to granting
liberty to the people, collapsed at once. The storm of popular
indignation swept it away like a house built of cards. At the first
news of the occurrences in Paris Kossuth asked in the Lower House for
the creation of a responsible ministry. Kossuth’s motion was favorably
received by the Lower House, but in the Upper House it was rejected,
the government not being yet alive to the real state of affairs, and
still hoping by a system of negation to frustrate the wishes of the
people. But very soon the revolution reared its head in Vienna itself,
and the wishes of the Hungarian people, uttered at Buda-Pesth, received
thereby a new and powerful advocate.
At that time the Hungarian Diet still met at Presburg, but the two
sister cities of Buda and Pesth formed the real capital of the country,
and were the centre of commerce, industry, science, and literature.
Michael Vörösmarty, the poet laureate of the nation, lived in Pesth,
and there the twin stars of literature, Alexander Petöfi and Maurus
Jókai, shone on the national horizon. Jókai, who is still living and
enjoys a world-wide fame as a novelist, and Petöfi, the eminent poet,
who was destined to become the Tyrtæus of his nation, were then both
young men, full of enthusiasm and intrepid energy, and teeming with
great ideas. About these two gathered the other writers and youth of
the university, and all of them, helping each other, contrived, upon
hearing the news of the sudden revolutions in Paris and Vienna, to
enact in Buda-Pesth the bloodless revolution of the 15th of March,
1848, which obtained the liberty of the press for the nation, and at
the same time, in a solemn manifesto, gave expression to the wishes of
the Hungarians in the matter of reform. The only act of violence these
revolutionary heroes were guilty of was the entering of a printing
establishment, whose proprietor, afraid of the government, had refused
to print the admirable poem of Petöfi, entitled _Talpra Magyar_ (Up
Magyar), and doing the printing there themselves. The first verse of
this poem, which subsequently became the war song of the national
movement, runs in a literal translation thus:
Arise, oh Magyar! thy country calls.
Here is the time, now or never.
Shall we be slaves or free?
That is the question—choose!
We swear by the God of the Magyars,
We swear, to be slaves no longer!
This soul-stirring poem was improvised by Petöfi under the inspiration
of the moment, and at the same establishment where it was first printed
was also printed a proclamation which contained twelve articles setting
forth the wishes of the people.
[Illustration: HOUSE AT KRAPINA.]
While the capital was resounding with the rejoicings and triumphant
shouts of her exulting inhabitants, the proper department of the
government for the carrying through of these movements, the Diet,
assembled at Presburg, lost no time, and set to work with great energy
to reform the institutions of Hungary, constitutionally, and to put
into the form of law the ideas of liberty, equality, and fraternity.
The salutary legislation met now with no opposition, either from the
Upper House or from the court at Vienna, and in a short time the Diet
passed the celebrated acts of 1848, which, having received the royal
sanction, were proclaimed as laws on the 11th of April, at Presburg,
amidst the wildest enthusiasm, in the presence of King Ferdinand V.
By these laws Hungary became a modern state, possessing a
constitutional government. The government was vested in a ministry
responsible to parliament, all the inhabitants of the country were
declared equal before the law, the privileges of the nobility were
abolished, the soil was declared free, and the right of free worship
accorded to all. The institution of national guards was introduced, the
utmost liberty of the press was secured, Transylvania became a part
of the mother country—in a word, the national and political condition
of the country was reorganized, in every particular, in harmony with
the spirit, the demands, and aspirations of our age. At the same time
the men placed at the head of the government were such as possessed
the fullest confidence of the people. The first ministry was composed
of the most distinguished patriots. Count Louis Batthyányi was the
president, and acting in conjunction with him were Francis Deák, as
minister of justice, Count Stephen Széchenyi, as minister of home
affairs, and Louis Kossuth, as minister of finance.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN GYPSY.]
The great mass of the people hailed with boundless enthusiasm the
new government and the magnificent reforms. The transformation,
however, had been so sudden and unexpected, and the old aristocratic
world, with all its institutions and its ancient organization, had
been swept away with such vehement, precipitation, that even under
ordinary circumstances in the absence of all opposition, the new
ideas and tendencies could have hardly entered into the political life
of the nation without causing no little confusion and disorder. But,
in addition to these natural drawbacks, the new order of things had
to contend with certain national elements in the population, which,
feeling themselves injured in their real or imaginary interests,
were bent on mischief, hoping to be able to rob the nation, in the
midst of the ensuing troubles, of the great political prize she had
won. Certain circles of the court and classes of the people strove
equally hard to surround with difficulties the practical introduction
of the constitution of 1848. The court and the standing army, the
party of the soldier class, feared that their commanding position
would be impaired by the predominating influence of the people. The
non-Hungarian portion of the inhabitants, choosing to ignore the fact
that the new laws secured, without distinction of nationality, equal
rights to every citizen of the state, were apprehensive lest the
liberal constitution would chiefly benefit the Hungarian element of
the nation. They, therefore, encouraged by the secret machinations of
the government of Vienna, took up arms, in order to drag the country,
which was preparing to take possession of her new liberties, into a
civil war. The Croatians, under the lead of Ban Jellachich, and the
Wallachs and Serbs, led by other imperial officers, and yielding to
their persuasions, rose in rebellion against Hungary, and began to
persecute, plunder, and murder the Hungarians living among them.
Dreadful atrocities were committed in the southern and eastern
portions of Hungary, hundreds and hundreds of families were massacred
in cold blood, and entire villages and cities were deserted by their
inhabitants, just as had previously happened at the approach of the
Turks, and thousands were compelled to abandon their all to the rebels,
in order to escape with their bare lives. In the course of a few weeks,
the flames of rebellion had spread over a large part of the country,
and the Hungarian element, instead of enjoying the liberties won for
the whole nation after a bitter struggle of many decades, was under the
sad necessity of resorting to armed force in order to re-establish the
internal peace. The Hungarians now had to prove on the battle-field
and in bloody engagements that they were worthy of liberty and capable
of defending it.
The government, which, by virtue of the new laws, had meanwhile
transferred its seat to Buda-Pesth, displayed extraordinary energy in
the face of the sad difficulties besetting it. As it was impossible
to rely upon the Austrian soldiers who were still in the country, it
exerted itself to create and to organize a national army. A portion
of the national guard entered the national army under the name of
_honvéds_ (defenders of the country), a name which became before
long famous throughout the civilized world for the glorious military
achievements coupled with it. The Hungarian soldiers, garrisoning the
Austrian principalities, hastened home, braving the greatest dangers,
partly accompanied by their officers and partly without them. The
famous Hungarian hussars, especially, returned in great number to
offer their services to their imperilled country. But all this proved
insufficient, and as soon as the National Assembly, elected under the
new constitution, met, Kossuth, who had been the life and soul of
the government during this trying and critical period, called upon
the nation to raise large armies for the defence of the country. The
session of the 11th of July, during which Kossuth introduced in the
House of Representatives his motions relating to the subject, presented
a scene which beggars all description. Kossuth ascended the tribune
pale and haggard with illness, but the never-ceasing applause which
greeted him after the first few sentences soon gave him back his
strength and his marvellous oratorical power. When he had concluded
his speech and submitted to the House his request for 200,000 soldiers
and the necessary money, a momentary pause of deep silence ensued.
Suddenly Paul Nyáry, the leader of the opposition, arose, and lifting
his right arm towards heaven, exclaimed: “We grant it!” The House was
in a fever of patriotic excitement; all the deputies rose from their
seats, shouting: “We grant it; we grant it!” Kossuth, with tears in his
eyes, bowed to the representatives of the people and said: “You have
risen like one man, and I bow down before the greatness of the nation.”
These sacrifices on the part of the country had become a matter of
urgent necessity. The Serb and Wallach insurrection assumed every
day larger proportions, while the Croats, under the leadership of
Jellachich, entered Hungarian territory with the fixed determination of
depriving the nation of her constitutional liberties. But the Hungarian
government was already able to send an army against the Croatians,
who were marching on Buda-Pesth, plundering and laying waste every
thing before them. They were surrounded by the Hungarian forces, and
a portion of their army, nine thousand men strong, were compelled to
lay down their arms, while Jellachich, with his remaining forces,
precipitately fled from the country. The young Hungarian army had thus
proved itself equal to the task of repulsing the attack of the Croats,
but the recent events were nevertheless fraught with the gravest
consequences. The news of the Croatian invasion filled the Hungarians
with deep anxiety, and the extraordinary excitement caused by it cast
a permanent cloud over the soul of that noble and great man, Count
Széchenyi. The mind of the great patriot who had initiated the national
movement gave way under the strain of the frightful rumors coming from
the Croatian frontier. He had been ailing for some time back, and his
nervousness constantly increased under the pressure of the great events
following each other in rapid succession, so that when the news came
that the enemy had invaded the country he thought that Hungary was
lost. His despair darkened his mind and he sought death in the waves
of the Danube. His family removed him to a private asylum near Vienna,
where he recovered his mental faculties, and even wrote several books.
But he was never entirely cured of his hallucination, and, exasperated
by the vexations he was subjected to by the Viennese government, even
in the asylum, the great patriot put an end to his own life on the
8th of April, 1860, by a shot from a pistol. Jellachich’s incursion
had other important political consequences. The attack on Hungary had
been made by Jellachich in the name of the Viennese government, and
the intimate connection between the domestic disorders and the court
of Vienna became more and more apparent. This state of things rendered
inevitable a struggle between Hungary and the unconstitutional action
of the court. The Austrian forces were arming against Hungary on
every side. Vienna, too, rose in rebellion against the court, and now
the Hungarians hastened to assist the revolutionists in the Austrian
capital. Unfortunately the young national army was not ripe yet for so
great a military enterprise, and Prince Windischgrätz, having crushed
the revolution in Vienna, invaded Hungary.
A last attempt was now made by the Hungarians to negotiate peace with
the court, but it failed, Windischgrätz being so elated with his
success that nothing short of unconditional submission on the part of
the country would satisfy him. To accept such terms would have been
both cowardly and suicidal, and the nation, therefore, driven to the
sad alternative of war, determined rather to perish gloriously than
to pusillanimously submit to be enslaved by the court. They followed
the lead of Kossuth, who was now at the head of the government, whilst
Görgei was the commander-in-chief of the Hungarian army. The two names
of Kossuth and Görgei soon constituted the glory of the nation. Whilst
these two acted in harmony they achieved brilliant triumphs, but their
personal antagonism greatly contributed, at a subsequent period, to the
calamities of the country.
Windischgrätz took possession of Buda in January, 1849, thus compelling
Kossuth to transfer the seat of government to Debreczen, whilst
Görgei withdrew with his army to the northern part of Hungary, but
the national army fought victoriously against the Serbs and Wallachs,
and the situation of the Hungarians had, in the course of the winter,
become more favorable all over the country. The genius of Kossuth
brought again and again, as if by magic, fresh armies into the field,
and he was indefatigable in organizing the defence of the country.
Distinguished generals like Görgei, Klapka, Damjanics, Bem, and
others transformed the raw recruits, in a wonderfully short time,
into properly disciplined troops, who were able to hold their own and
bravely contend against the old and tried imperial forces whom they put
to flight at every point.
The fortunes of war changed in favor of the Hungarians in the latter
part of January, 1849. Klapka achieved the first triumph, which was
followed by the brilliant victory won by one of Görgei’s divisions
commanded by Guyon in the battle of Branyiszkó, and very soon the
Hungarian armies acted on the offensive at all points. In the course of
a few weeks they achieved, chiefly under Görgei’s leadership, great and
complete victories over the enemy near Szolnok, Hatvan, Bicske, Vácz,
Isaszegh, Nagy Sarló, and Komárom. Windischgrätz lost both the campaign
and his position as commander-in-chief. Towards the close of the spring
of 1849, after besieged Komárom had been relieved by the Hungarians,
and Bem had driven from Transylvania not only the Austrians, but the
Russians who had come to their assistance, the country was almost freed
from her enemies, and only two cities, Buda and Temesvár, remained in
the hands of the Austrians. The glorious efforts made by the nation
were attended at last by splendid successes, and the civilized world
spoke with sympathy and respect of the Hungarian people which had
signally shown its ability to defend its liberties, constitution, and
national existence.
It should have been the mission of diplomacy, at this conjuncture,
to turn to advantage the recent military successes by negotiating an
honorable peace with the humbled dynasty, as had been done before in
the history of the country, after similar military achievements by the
ancient national leaders, Bocskáy and Bethlen. Görgei, the head of
the army was disposed to conclude peace. But the Hungarian Parliament
sitting in Debreczen, led by Kossuth and under the influence of the
recent victories, were determined to pursue a different course. The
royal house of Hapsburg, whose dynasty had ruled over Hungary for three
centuries, was declared to have forfeited its right to the throne by
instigating and bringing upon the country the calamities of a great
war. This act had a bad effect, especially on the army, tending also
to heighten the personal antagonism between Kossuth and Görgei. But
its worst consequence was that it gave Russia a pretext for armed
intervention. The emperor Francis Joseph entered into an alliance with
the Czar of Russia, the purpose of which was to reconquer seceded
Hungary and ultimately to crush her liberty.
One more brilliant victory was achieved by the Hungarian arms before
the fatal blow was aimed at the country. The fortress of Buda was
taken after a gallant assault, in the course of which the Austrian
commandant bombarded the defenceless city of Pesth on the opposite bank
of the Danube, and thus the capital, too, was restored to the country.
Yet after this last glorious feat of war, good fortune deserted the
national banners. The grand heroic epoch was hastening to its tragic
end. Two hundred thousand Russians crossed the borders of Hungary,
and were there reinforced by sixty thousand to seventy thousand
Austrians, whom the Viennese government had succeeded in collecting
for a last great effort. It was easy to foresee that the exhausted
Hungarian army could not long resist the superior numbers opposed
to them. For months they continued the gallant fight, and it was in
one of these engagements that Petöfi, the great poet of the nation,
lost his life, but in the month of August, the Russians had already
succeeded in surrounding Görgei’s army. Görgei, who was now invested
with the supreme power, perceiving that all further effusion of blood
was useless, surrendered, in the sight of the Russian army, the sword
he had so gloriously worn in many a battle, near Világos, on the 13th
of August, 1849. The remaining Hungarian armies followed his example,
and either capitulated or disbanded. The brave army of the _honvéds_
was no more, and the gallant struggle for liberty was put an end to
by the superior numbers of the Russian forces. Kossuth and many other
Hungarians sought refuge in Turkey.
Above Komárom, the largest fortress in the county, alone the Hungarian
colors were still floating. General Klapka, its commandant, bravely
defended it, and continued to hold it for six weeks after the sad
catastrophe of Világos. The brave defenders, seeing at last that
further resistance served no purpose, as the Hungarian army had
ceased to exist, and the whole country had passed into the hands
of the Austrians, capitulated upon most honorable terms. This was
the concluding act of the heroic struggle of the Hungarian people,
the brave attitude of the garrison and their commander adding
another bright page to the already honorable record of the military
achievements of 1848 and 1849.
As soon as the imperialists had obtained possession of Komárom, their
commander-in-chief, Baron Haynau, began to persecute the patriots,
and to commit the most cruel atrocities against them. Those who had
taken part in the national war were brought before a court-martial and
summarily executed. The bloody work of the executioner commenced on the
6th of October. Count Louis Batthyányi was shot at Pesth, and thirteen
gallant generals, belonging to Görgei’s army, met their deaths at Arád.
Wholesale massacres were committed throughout the country, until at
last the conscience of Europe rose up against these cruel butcheries,
and the court itself removed the sanguinary baron from the scene of his
inhuman exploits. The best men in the country were thrown into prison,
and thousands of families had to mourn for dear ones who had fallen
victims to the implacable vindictiveness of the Austrian government.
Once more the gloom of oppression settled upon the unhappy country.
[Illustration: HUNGARIAN LADY.]
Many of the patriots had accompanied Kossuth to Turkey, or found a
refuge in other foreign countries, and for ten years a great number
of distinguished Hungarians were compelled to taste the bitterness
of exile. Kossuth himself went subsequently to England, and visited
also the United States. In the latter country he was enthusiastically
received by the free and great American nation, who took delight in
his lofty eloquence. During the Crimean war, and the war of 1859 in
Italy, Kossuth and the Hungarian exiles were zealously laboring to
free their country by foreign aid from the thraldom of oppression. At
last, however, the Hungarian nation succeeded in reconquering, without
any aid from abroad, by her own exertions, her national and political
rights, and made her peace with the ruling dynasty. But the Hungarian
exiles had their full share in the work of reconciliation, for it was
owing to their exertions that the nations of Europe remembered that, in
spite of Világos, Hungary still existed, and that again, at home, the
people of Hungary were not permitted to lose their faith in a better
and brighter future. Kossuth, the Nestor of the struggle for liberty,
lives at present in retirement in Turin, and, although separated from
his people by diverging political theories, his countrymen will forever
cherish in him the great genius who gave liberty to millions of the
oppressed peasantry, and who indelibly inscribed on the pages of the
national legislation the immortal principles of liberty and equality of
rights.
It is proper, however, to present in their regular order the chief
events through which down-trodden Hungary of 1849 became from a
subordinate province again an independent kingdom, taking part as an
equal partner in the great realm of Austria-Hungary.
It was not until 1854 that the state of siege inaugurated in 1849
was abolished, and only in 1856 that an amnesty was proclaimed. In
1857 the emperor visited Hungary, and during his stay, he decreed
the restoration of their confiscated estates to the late political
offenders. From this time the emperor and the government of Vienna
seemed anxious, by means of concessions to the national aims, to cause
the Hungarians to forget the bitterness and strife of 1848 and 1849. In
1858 agricultural colonists were given special inducements to settle in
specified districts, and were allowed certain exemptions from taxation.
In 1859 a most important concession was made by the imperial government
to the spirit of nationality. By a ministerial order the language used
in the higher schools was for the future to be regulated according
to the circumstances of nationality, the predominance of German
being thereby abolished. In the same year was issued what was known
as the Protestant patent, which granted to the communes the free
administration of their own educational and religious matters.
[Illustration: WOMAN’S HEAD-DRESS.]
In 1860 the supreme court of judicature, known as the _curia regia_,
and the county assemblies were reinstated, and the Magyar was
recognized as the official language. Later in the year the district
called the Banate of Temesvár was re-annexed to Hungary. In 1861 the
old constitution was restored to Hungary, including Transylvania,
Croatia, and Slavonia, and the Hungarian Diet reassembled in the old
capital, Buda, afterwards removing across the river to Pesth. Within
a few months, however, an address was presented at Vienna demanding
the fullest autonomy for Hungary. To this the emperor declared himself
unable to accede, and the Diet was dissolved. Stringent measures were
again put into force by the imperial government, and military aid was
invoked to enforce the collection of the taxes.
In 1865 the Diet was opened by the emperor in person, and the imperial
assent was given to the principle of self-government for Hungary. The
provisions of the Pragmatic Sanction (of 1722) were proposed as the
basis for the settlement of the questions still at issue. The Diet
also demanded, however, an acknowledgment of the continuity of the
constitutional rights of 1848. Before an imperial decision had been
reached on this point, the war of 1866 broke out between Austria and
Prussia (allied with Italy), and the Diet was prorogued. The Hungarian
troops formed an important contingent in the Austrian army which faced
the Prussians in Bohemia, and the general in command, Marshal Benedek,
was himself by birth a Hungarian. Hungarians also fought in the army
of the south, which, under the leadership of the Archduke Albrecht,
made a brief but brilliant campaign against the Italians. In Bohemia
the Austrians met with a decisive defeat at Sadowa (in July, 1866),
and although in Italy Archduke Albrecht gained the important battle of
Custozza, and Admiral Tegetthoff a naval victory near Lissa (in the
Adriatic), the general results of the summer’s campaign were adverse to
Austria, and brought about material changes in its relations to Germany
and in its own imperial organization.
By the peace of Prague (August, 1866) the German confederation was
dissolved, and Austria’s long preëminence among the states of Germany
came to an end, the leadership in German affairs being transferred to
Prussia. The centre of gravity of the Austrian empire (which was thus,
as it were, pushed out of Germany) was thrown southward and eastward,
and the most important result for Hungary was the constituting of
the present dual monarchy of Austria-Hungary, finally sanctioned in
February, 1867.
[Illustration: CARTS.]
Under this arrangement the constitutional, legal, and administrative
autonomy of 1848 was secured to Hungary, while the full control of
the army rested with the emperor-king. The representative committee
of the Diet, which conducted and completed the new constitutional
arrangements, was headed by Deák, and the presidency of the first
ministry was given to Count Andrássy.
In June, 1868, the emperor and empress were crowned at Buda-Pesth King
and Queen of Hungary, and a complete pardon was proclaimed for all
political offenders. It is worthy of note that twice in the checkered
history of Hungary has Prussia been instrumental in securing for the
kingdom from its Austrian rulers recognition and privileges which, had
it not been for the pressure of the Prussian attacks, might long have
been delayed.
In 1765, Maria Theresa, in grateful acknowledgment of the cordially
loyal support given her by her “faithful Hungarians” in the bitter
struggle against Frederic the Great, initiated various most important
reforms, while just a century later, under the convincing influence of
the second great struggle with Prussia, the Austrian ruler again falls
back on his Hungarian subjects as the chief support of his reorganized
realm, and in the new dual empire of Austria-Hungary the ancient
kingdom of the Magyars, whose wonderfully elastic national vitality had
withstood so many vicissitudes and disasters, again takes a commanding
place among the nations of Europe.
[Illustration: BARKS ON DANUBE.]
[Illustration]
INDEX.
A
Abdi Pasha surrenders Buda to Duke Charles, 332
Academy of Sciences at Buda-Pesth founded, 407
Adalbert, St., Bishop of Prague, 56
Agram, Bishopric of, founded, 111
Ahmed Pasha, besieges Temesvár, 302;
takes fortress, 305;
besieges Erlau, 308;
is repulsed, 311
Albert, Emperor of Germany, comes to the assistance of Wenceslaus, 153
Albert, King of Hungary, dies, 210
Aladar and Csaba, sons of Attila, 30
Albert, Duke of Poland, lays waste Hungary, 262
Albrecht, Archduke, 438
Alföld (Lowland), taken by the Turks, 340;
colonized by the Servians, 361;
depopulated, 368
Ali Pasha of Buda, besieges Drégel, 299;
clemency to two youths, 300;
takes Drégel, 301;
generosity to remains of Szondi, 301
Aliportug, 315
Almos, first duke of the Huns, 36;
oath to, 36
Almos, brother of Coloman, rebellion of, 116;
defeated 116;
deprived of sight, 116;
rebels against Stephen II., 116;
dies, 117
Altai Mountains, cradle of Magyar race, 32
Anagarini, John, Papal envoy to Matthias, 236
Andrássy, Count, 439
Andrew, Prince, rebellion of, 60;
made king, 61;
issues rigorous laws, 61
Andrew I., King of Hungary, 102;
victories over pagan rebels, 103;
gives one third of his realm to Béla, 103;
son born, 104;
feud with Béla, 105;
defeated by Béla, 106
Andrew, brother of Emeric, 123;
defeats Emeric and proclaims himself Duke of Croatia, Dalmatia, Rama,
and Chulmia, 123;
captured by Emeric, 124;
made guardian of his nephew, 125
Andrew II., ascends the throne, 125;
under his wife’s dominion, 125;
weakness of, 126;
campaign in Galicia, 126;
goes to the Holy Land, 129;
grants “Golden Bull,” 129;
dies, 133
Andrew III., ascends the throne, 149;
death, 150
Andrew, son of Charles of Anjou, betrothed to Joanna of Naples, 164;
assassinated, 166
Anjou, house of—first king, 151
Anna, daughter of Uladislaus, 265;
betrothed to Ferdinand, son of Maximilian, 266
Anna, Duchess of Teschen, mother of Stephen Szapolyai, 265
Anna of Candal, wife of Uladislaus, dies, 276
Anna Pekry, wife of Losonczy, tries to raise money for her besieged
husband, 303
Apaffy, Prince of Transylvania, 357
Apors, 147
_Apotheosis_ of _Augustus_, 18
Arnulph, King of Germany, 39
Árpád, first ruler of Hungary, 42;
death, 44;
house of, 97;
extinction of, 149
Astrik, mission to Rome, 76
Attila, pushes forward, 23;
death of, 24;
sons of, contend for possession of empire, 24;
Aladar and Csaba, sons of, 30
Augsburg, victory near, 48
Aurelian, withdraws legions, 32;
allows Goths to settle, 23
Austrian government persecutes the Protestants, 344;
encourages the Catholics, 347;
defeated by Kossuth, 431;
declared to have forfeited its right to Hungary, 432
Austria, supremacy comes to an end, 438
Austria-Hungary, new kingdom of, 440
Avars, first appearance, 24;
conquered by the Franks, 25
B
Baján, prince of the Avars, 25
Bajazet, on Hungarian soil, 182;
defeats Sigismund, 184
Bakacs, Thomas, archbishop, aspires to the papal see, 268;
organizes crusade against the Turks, 268;
appointed guardian to Louis, 276
Balassa, Valentine, 318;
takes part in the storming of Gran, 319
Balkan Peninsula, appearance of Turks on, 299
Barbara, wife of Sigismund, negotiates with Ladislaus III. of Poland,
193;
imprisoned, 193
Bardico, John, captain of the republic of Venice, 180
Báthory Stephen, traitor to the son of Matthias, 261, 285;
at battle of Mohács, 288
Batthyányi, Count Louis, deputy from county of Pesth, 121;
president of new ministry, 424
Batu Khan, leads Mongolians across the Carpathian range, 138;
massacres Kuthen, defeats Béla at Muhi, 139;
retreats from Trau, 141
Bavaria, invaded by the Hungarians, 48
Bazarád, Ban Michael, ruler of Wallachia, revolt of, 160
Beatrice, daughter of the king of Naples, wife of Matthias, 234;
favors candidature of Maximilian of Germany, 260
Béla, Adalbert, brother of Andrew, 103;
defeats Henry III., 103;
popularity of, 104;
feud with Andrew, 105;
conquers Andrew, 106;
proclaimed king, 106
Béla I., rebellion against, 106;
sons of, resign claim to throne in favor of Solomon, 107
Béla II., son of Almos, ascends the throne, 117;
Ilona, wife of, 117;
vengeance of, at Arad, 117;
dies, 118;
Geyza II., son of, 118
Béla III., brother of Stephen III., 98;
goes to Constantinople, 119;
adopted by Manuel, 119;
takes oath never to attack the Greek empire, 119;
returns to his native country and ascends throne, 120;
restores order, 120;
introduction through wives of German and French manners, 122;
Emeric, son of, 123;
dies, 123
Béla IV., ascends the throne, 133;
drives back Frederic, of Austria, 134;
admits Kuthen, king of the Kuns, and his people into the land, 135;
defeated by the Mongolians at Muhi, 139;
flees to Spalato, then to Trau, 141;
returns to Hungary, 141;
strives to revive his desolated country, 142;
founds Buda, 144;
triumphs over Frederick, of Austria, 144;
dies, 145
Belgrade, Turks defeated by Hunyadi at, 214;
taken by the Turks, 284
Benedek, Marshal, 438
Beni, 431
Bethlen, Gabriel, Prince of Transylvania, leads the Czechs
and Protestants of Hungary, and takes Presburg, 348;
makes terms With Viennese government, 348;
dies, 350
_Black Troop_, organized by Matthias, 224
Bocskay, Stephen, Prince of Transylvania, leads insurrection against
the Hapsburgs, 345;
proclaimed king of Hungary by the Turks, 345;
counsels a conciliatory policy, 346
Bonafini, lectures of, at the court of Matthias, 249
Brankovitch, Prince of Servia, 212
Branyiszkó, 431
Brebiris the, 147
Bruno, 56
Buda, assembly of lords at, 184;
under Matthias, 252;
founded by Béla IV., 144;
captured by Solyman the Magnificent, 289;
restored to Hungary, 332;
diet at, 386
Buda-Pesth, 10;
statue of Stephen Szechenyi at, 400;
national casino at, 411;
newspaper started at, by Kossuth, 415;
real capital, 422;
revolution in, 422;
seat of government, 428
C
Capistrano, John, preaches a crusade against the Turks, 213
Caraffa, 360
Carlowitz, treaty of peace signed at, 334
Carpathian range, 1
Casimir, King of Poland, 159;
acknowledges Louis, son of Charles of Anjou, his heir, 162;
dies, 171
Census in Hungary opposed, 384
Charles Robert, of Anjou, ascends the throne, 151;
crowned the fourth time, 154;
defeats Matthias Czák, 157;
introduces chivalry, 158;
popularity, 159;
escapes from Wallachia, 161;
acquires Naples and Poland, 162;
arranges with Cassius, King of Poland, that Poland should descend
to Louis, his son, 162;
death, 164
Charles of Durazzo conquers Naples, 168;
crowned at Stuhlweissenburg, 177;
death, 178
Charles IV., of Germany, suspicious of Louis of Hungary, 170
Charles, Duke of Lorraine, routs the Turks, 331;
takes Buda, 332;
conquers at Mohács, 333
Charles III. of Austria and Hungary inaugurates new policy, 368
Church of Hungary, relations with the Vatican, 186
Church of Rome, condition of, 187
Christianity, victory of, 60
Cities, franchises of, 186;
privileges of, 343
Climate, 9
Coloman, ascends throne, 114;
drives crusaders away, 114;
receives Godfrey of Bouillon, 114;
increases domains, 115;
styles himself King of Croatia and Dalmatia, 115;
called _Könyves_, a bookish king, 115;
Brother Almos rebels, 115;
administers justice, 115;
Stephen, son of, 116
Congress of Vienna, 404
Conrad, death of, 50
Conrad II., Emperor of Germany, 88;
war with Stephen, 89
Constantinople, capital of the Turkish empire, 212
Constitution, 16;
restored to Hungary, 437
Constitutional monarchy established, 424;
enthusiasm for, 424
Corvinus, John, son of Matthias, candidate for the throne, 259
Council of Constance, 190
County assemblies, 437
Court of Matthias, 250
Cracow, coronation of Louis of Hungary at, 172
Croatia added to Hungary, 111;
dissatisfaction in, 176;
old constitution restored to, 437
Croats, incited by the Viennese government against the Hungarians, 420;
rebel, 426;
defeated, 428
Crown, double, of Hungary removed by Joseph IV. to Vienna 382;
sent back to Buda, 386
Crusade, 114;
third, 122;
against the Turks, 213;
proclaimed, 268
Csák, Matthias, 159;
marauding expeditions from the castle of Trecsén, 155;
excommunication of, 156;
defeated by Charles Robert of Anjou at Kassa, 157;
dies a horrible death, 157
Csák (family), 147;
extermination of 159
Csáky, Nicholas, killed, 271
Cselényi, John, 160
Culture, renaissance of, 247
_Curia regia_, supreme court of judicature, 437
Custozza, battle of, 438
Czechs, clamors of, against Hungary, 203;
routed on plain of Morava, 146;
joined by the Protestants in insurrection against the Hapsburgs, 348;
routed by Tilly near Prague, 348
D
Dacia, province of, 20
Damjanics, 431
Danube Steam Navigation Company, 411
Debruzen, seat of government, 430
Deák, Francis, 414;
minister of justice, 424;
heads representative committee, 437
Diákovár, 179
Diet (1567) inveighs against the foreign soldiery, 341;
religious discussion in, prohibited by Rudolph, 345;
minority of Protestants in, 358;
relinquishes the people’s right, 360;
at Buda, 386-389;
removed to Presburg, 387;
reforms institutions of Hungary, 423;
removed to Buda-Pesth, 427;
driven to Dubreczen, 430;
declares the house of Hapsburg to have forfeited its right
to Hungary, 432;
dissolution of 437;
opened by the emperor, 438
Dobó, Stephen, commandant at Erlau, 307;
repulses the Turks, 311
Dobozy, Michael, flight and death of 293
Dózsa George, made leader of crusade, 270;
leads his men against the nobles, 271;
besieges Temesvár, is defeated and executed, 272
Drágfy, John, Chief-Justice, at the battle of Mohács, 287
Drégel, taken by the Turks under Ali Pasha, 300;
monumental chapel erected at, 301
E
Elizabeth, daughter of Andrew III., 151
Elizabeth, wife of Charles of Anjou, builds cathedral at Kassa, 162;
goes to Naples in aid of her son Andrew, 162
Elizabeth, wife of Louis of Hungary, offers to Poland her daughter
Hedwig as queen, 176;
strangled, 179
Elizabeth, daughter of Sigismund, married to Albert of Austria, 186
Emeric, son of Stephen, 90;
education of, 90;
death of, 94
Emeric, son of Béla III., ascends the throne, 123;
defeated by Andrew, 123;
dies, 125
Emperor and Pope, rivalry of, 70
Eperjes, bloody tribunal of, 360
Erlau besieged by Ahmed Pasha, 308
Eugene, Duke of Savoy, assumes commandership of Hungarian forces, 333;
annihilates a Turkish army, 334;
defeats the Turks near Peterwardein, 335;
defeats the Turks, 359
Europe threatened by a new foe, 170
F
Ferdinand of Austria, elected king of Hungary 295;
king of Bohemia, 338
Ferdinand II., cousin of Matthias, King of Bohemia, 347
Ferdinand V., King of Hungary, 424
Field of Blood, 396
Fiume, city of, 7;
given to Hungary by Maria Theresa, 371
France, revolution in, 386
Francis I., of France, stirs up Solyman, 286
Francis I., crowned, 390;
persecutes enlightened men, 396;
arbitrary government, 398;
returns to constitutional government, 399
Francis, Joseph, enters into alliance with Czar of Russia, 432;
visits Hungary, 436
Frangepán Christopher, 267;
conspires against Leopold I., 355;
beheaded, 355
Frederic Barbarossa leads third crusade, 122
Frederic, Duke of Austria, defeated by Béla IV., 144;
dies, 144
French enter Hungary, 397;
defeat the Hungarians near Ráab, 398
Fuggers, the, 279
Fünfkirchen (Pécs), University of, 174
G
Galamböcz, siege of, 191
Galicia, campaign in, 126
Garay, palatine of Croatia, 176;
defends the queens and dies, 178
George of Brandenburg, appointed guardian to Louis, 276
Gepidæ, ruling people in Hungary, 24
Gerhard, St., death, 61
Germans, defeat of, 44;
victory of, 48;
in Hungary, 322
German confederation dissolved, 438
Gertrude, wife of Andrew II., 125
Geyza II., ascends throne, 109;
son of Béla, 118;
hostilities, 118;
dies, 118;
Stephen III., son of, 118
Gisella, wife of Stephen, 69
Golden Bull, 99;
rights granted by, relinquished by diet, 360
Görgei, commander-in-chief of the Hungarian army, 430;
surrenders, 433
Gran (Esztergom), capital of Hungary, 68
Gregory VII., claims submission from Ladislaus, 110
Grosswardein, Tomb of Ladislaus, 112;
Hungarian victory at, 168
Gustavus Adolphus, 350
Guyon, 431
Gyula, Duke, rebellion of, 60;
defeated, 60
H
Hajnoczi, Joseph, 393;
arrested, 395
Hapsburg, house of, rulers of Hungary, 337;
Rudolph of, 145
Hatvan, diet at, 280
Haynau, Baron, persecutes the patriots, 434
Hedervári, Francis, deserts Belgrade, 284
Hedwig, daughter of Louis of Hungary, marries Duke Jagello, 174;
becomes queen of Poland, 175
Henry the Fowler, 47
Henry II. of Germany, 88
Henry III. visits Stephen, 89
Horváthy, John, attacks the two queens near Diákovár, 179
Holubar, contest with Matthias, 229
Horse-racing introduced into Hungary, 411
Hungarian Alps, 6
Hungarians (early), legends in regard to origin, 27;
invade Germany, 42;
invade Italy, 44;
incursion into Germany and France, 46;
disasters of, 56
Hungary, topography and climate, 1;
cities of, 16;
conquest by the Huns, 39;
invasion by Luitpold and Ditmar, 44;
under two kings, 295;
reduced to an Austrian province, 356;
reorganized by government of Vienna, 361;
material condition improved by Maria Theresa, 372;
German made the official language, 382;
new laws, 423;
recovers her national rights, 436
Huns, first appearance, 23;
of Turkish extraction, 33;
seven dukes of, 34;
mode of warfare, 37;
conquer Hungary, 39
Hunyadi, John, 194;
defeats the Turks, 197;
gallantry, 198;
triumphs in the Balkan passes, 205;
victorious at Varna, 207;
defeated, 209;
governor of Hungary, 210;
unites with the Albanians, 211;
defeated, 211;
death, 215
Hunyor, 28;
settlement of progeny, 29
Huss, John, 189
I
Illeshäzy, 344
Ilona, wife of Béla II., 117;
opens diet at Arad, 117;
orders massacre at Arad, 117
Industrial and commercial status, 16
Iron gate (Vaskapu), 5, 411
Ishak, pasha of Semendria, 198
Izolda, nurse of Andrew, 165
J
Jacobins, Hungarian league of, 392
Jagello, Duke of Lithuania, marries Hedvig, a daughter of Louis
of Hungary, 174
James, son of Vatha, leads pagan rebellion against Béla I., 107;
defeated, 107
Jellachich, Ban, leader of the Croats, 426;
defeated, 428
Jesuits inaugurate Thirty Years’ War, 347
Joanna of Naples, wife of Andrew, conspires against her husband, 165;
marries Louis of Taranto, 167;
sentenced by the Pope, 168
Jókai, Maurus, 422
Joseph I., Emperor of Austria and King of Hungary, 366;
grants amnesty to the insurgents, 367
Joseph II., sends crown back to Buda, 386;
death, 386
Joseph II. refuses to receive the crown of Hungary, 375;
called the “_kalapos_” king, 375;
wages war against the Hungarian nationality, 376;
reigns as absolute sovereign, 278;
hated by the people, 380;
gives religious freedom to the Protestants, 380;
shocks the religious feelings of the Hungarians, 381;
removes double crown to Vienna, 382;
makes, by edict, German the official language of Hungary, 382;
declares war against Turkey, 385
Julius II., 268
Juranics, Lawrence, 317;
death at siege of Szigetvár, 317
Juricsies, Michael, commander of Köszeg, 297;
saves Austria, 298
K
Kaan, Prince, defeated by Stephen, 60
“_Kalandos_” Society, 281
Károlyi, Alexander, 335
Kassa, battle of, 157;
cathedral of, 162;
given to the Catholics, 344
Kazinczy, Francis, regenerator of Hungarian literature, 394;
imprisonment of, 396
Kiev, fate of, 136
Kieystut, Prince of Lithuania, 168
Kinizsy, Paul, captain of Matthias, 230;
traitor to the son of Matthias, 261;
massacres Hungarian soldiers near Halos, 264;
dies, 264
Kisfaludy, Charles, 285
Klapa, 431;
defends Komárom, 433
Komárom, 431;
taken by the Imperialists, 433
Kont, Stephen, of Hédervár, death, 181
Kopán, rebellion of, 59;
death of, 60
Korogi, Peter, of the wonderful stomach, 277
Kosovo, battle of, 186
Kossuth, Louis, rival of Széchenyi, 412;
refuses to be bought by the government, 415;
starts newspaper, 415;
imprisoned, 416;
pardoned, 417;
obtains permission to edit a paper, 417;
attacked by the press, 418;
deputy from the county of Pesth, 421;
asks for responsible ministry, 421;
Minister of Finance, 424;
introduces motions in Assembly, 427;
head of the government, 430;
exile, 434.
Köszeg, refuses to do homage to Solyman, 297;
siege of, 298
Krafi Bey, death of, 208
Kuns (Cumanians), routed by Ladislaus, III;
under Kuthen, settle in Hungary, 135;
cruelties, 152;
devastate Moravia, 170
Kurucz-Labancz era, 357
Kurucs, rebellion, 268;
insurgents, 357;
receives aid from the French, Porte, and Transylvania, 358;
led by Tökölyi, 358;
led by Francis Rákóczy II., 363;
demands of, 394
Kuthen, King of the Kuns, settles in Hungary, 135;
massacred by Batu Khan, 138
L
Labancz (Austrians), 357;
surrender, 358
Laczkovics, John, 393;
arrested, 395
Ladislaus, son of Béla, 109;
ascends throne, 109;
character of, 110;
sides with Pope, 110;
extends his kingdom, 111;
routs the Kuns, 111;
laws of, 112;
buried at Grosswardein, 112;
apparition of, 168
Ladislaus, son of Emeric, dies, 125
Ladislaus IV., 155;
defeats Ottokar, 146;
alliance with Rudolph, 147;
death, 148
Ladislaus of Naples, penetrates into the interior of Hungary, 186;
defeated, 186
Ladislaus V., King of Hungary, 212
Ladislaus, son of Hunyadi, assassinated, 218
Lands of the Sacred Crown, 374
Language, regulated according to nationality, 436;
Magyar recognized as the official language, 437
Lazarevitch, Stephen, Prince of Servia, 191
Lehel, Duke, death of, 50
Leo the Wise, Emperor of Byzantium, 39
Leo X., Pope, 268
Leopold I., tries to conciliate the Turks, 331;
defeats George Rákóczy II., 352;
defeated by the Turks near Raab, 353;
endeavors to make homogeneous empire, 354;
imposes land and corn tax, 355;
death, 366
Leopold II., ascends the throne, 387;
crowned, 389;
death, 390
Library of Matthias, 252;
destroyed by Solyman, 289
Linz, Peace of, 327
Lissa, naval battle at, 438
Literature, leaders in, 404
Lithuanian insurrection, 172
Logody, Simon, heroically defends Shabatz, 224
Longobards, invited by Justinian to settle in Pannonia, 24;
collision between, and Gepidæ, 25
Losonczy, Stephen, commander of garrison at Temesvár, 302;
besieged by Ahmed Pasha, 302;
tries to raise money, 303;
writes last letters, 304;
withdraws troops, 305;
death, 305
Louis of Taranto marries Joanna, widow of Andrew, 167
Louis Laczfy, voyvode of Transylvania, defeated at Grosswardein, 168
Louis, son of Charles of Anjou, acknowledged heir to the throne
of Poland, 162;
ascends Hungarian throne, 164;
swears revenge for his brother’s death, 166;
subdues Naples, 167;
puts an end to incursions from the East, 168;
Servian victories, 169;
Venetian victories, 169;
offered the German crown, 170;
crowned king of Poland, 172;
death, 174
Louis II., son of Uladislaus, born, 266;
crowned, 276;
poverty of, 277;
marries Mary of Austria, 283;
defeated and killed at Mohács, 289
Lukács, Bishop of Cenád, 263
M
Magyars, 28;
rebellion against, in 997, 59
Manuel, Emperor of the East, 118;
offers peace to the Hungarians, 118;
promises to adopt Béla heir, 119
Marcomanni, the, invasion of, 21
Maria Theresa, policy of, 368;
appeals to the Hungarians, 370;
gives Fiume to Hungary, 371;
improves the material condition of Hungary, 372
Maritza, defeat of the Turks at, 171
Martinovics, Ignatius, leader of Hungarian Jacobins, 392;
arrested, 395
Marton, Father, embassy of, to Ali Pasha, 300
Mary, daughter of Louis of Hungary;
betrothed to Sigismund, son of the Emperor Charles IV., 170;
proclaimed queen of Hungary, 175;
marriage of, 176;
made prisoner, 179;
dies, 183
Mary, widow of Louis I., flies to Presburg, 292
Matthias, son of Hunyadi, proclaimed king, 217;
chivalric character of, 220;
victories over the German knight Holubar, 220;
captures Vienna, 222;
organizes _Black Troop_, 224;
lays siege to Shabatz, 224;
anecdotes of, 226;
campaign against Frederic, 229;
sends embassy to France, 233;
to Naples, 234;
reforms the laws, 240;
capacity, 243;
increases royal revenue, 246;
dies, 256
Matthias, successor to Rudolph, 346
Maximilian, treaty with Uladislaus, 266
Maximilian of Austria, King of Hungary, 341
_Melancholy Magyars_, 49
Merseburg, battle of, 47
Mészáros, Lawrence, 270
Metternich, Prince, 408, 421
Mezid Bey, dispatched by the Sultan against the Hungarians, 198
Miecislas, wife of Béla, 103
Mohács, battle at, 288;
slaughter at, 292
Mohammed I., Sultan, 190;
Viceroy of Hervoga, 191
Mohammed II. makes Constantinople his capital, 212
Mongolians, invasion of, 137;
defeat the Hungarians at Muhi, 139;
retreat of, 141
Money (paper), issue of, 398
Morava or March, plain of, route of the Czech armies, 146
Moré, Michael, treachery of, 284
Muhi, battle of, 139
Murad, Sultan, death, 182
Mustapha II., Sultan, defeated by Duke Eugene near Zentu, 334
N
Nádasdy conspires against Leopold, I;
seized and beheaded, 355
Nagy, Paul, 407
Nagy, Simon, 229
Napoleon endeavors to tempt the Hungarians from their Austrian
allegiance, 397
National Assembly, 427
National Breeding Association, 411
National casino at Buda-Pesth, 411
National exhibition (1885), 17
National museum of Buda-Pesth, 402
_Nicopolis_, battle near, 183
Nickolsburg, treaty of, 328
Nobles arm under Báthory (Comes) and Csáky, 271;
oppose the Austrian government, 343;
poll-tax imposed upon by Leopold I., 356;
_Honvéds_, national guard, 427
Nyáry, Paul, leader of the opposition, 428
O
Oláh, Blasius, 284
Ostyaks, 32
Ottakar, King of Bohemia, overthrown by Béla IV. and his sons, 145
Otto the Bavarian, assists Wenceslaus, 153;
decoyed by the _vayvode_ of Transylvania, 154
Otto the Great, of Germany, 48
P
Palace of Matthias, 252;
sacked by Solyman, 295
Palæologos, John (Emperor of the East), 171;
visits Buda, 171
Palisna, John, delivers up Mary, wife of Sigismund, to Venice, 180
Pannonians, 18
Parliament (diet), 16;
at Arad, 117
Patriots, persecutions of, 434
Pázmány, Cardinal Peter, 326;
primate of Hungary, 347
Peasants, condition of, 269;
oppressive laws for, 274
Peasant War, 267;
end of, 273
Perényi, Francis, Bishop of Grosswardein, 287
Persecutions, 391
Pesti Hirlap (Pesth newspaper), 417
Petchenegs, defeated by Stephen, 79
Peter, successor to Stephen, 100;
asks help of the German emperor, 100;
takes oath of fealty to Germany, 100;
rebellion against, 101;
prisoner and deprived of sight, 102
Peterwardein, 287
Petöfi, Alexander, 422;
death, 433
Philip of Taranto, son of Catherine of Valois, at Naples, 165
Pilgrin, Bishop of Passau, 55
Piso, Jacob, teacher of Louis, 257, 277;
Podrebrád, George, King of the Czechs, 242
Poland, troubles in, 172
Political divisions, 9
Porte, secretly promises aid against the Austrians, 357
Pragmatic Sanction, 369
Prague, root of the Czechs at, 348;
peace of, 438
Press, liberty of, gained by the Revolution in 1848, 422
Presburg, battle of, 45;
taken by the Turks, 293;
taken by Bethlen, 348;
diet at, 389
Protestantism, rise of, 320;
loses ground in Hungary, 348
Protestants, laws against, 323;
persecuted, 325;
given equal rights by Stephen Bocskay, 326;
persecuted by the Austrian government, 344;
join the Czechs against the Hapsburgs, 348;
freedom of worship interfered with, 361;
receive religious freedom from Joseph II., 380
R
Raab, Turkish victory at, 353;
French victory at, 398
Rákóczy, George I., Prince of Transylvania, 351
Rákóczy II., George of Transylvania, rebels against the Austrian rule,
334;
retires to Poland, 335;
victorious over the Germans and Turks, 352;
defeated by Leopold, 352
Rákóczy, Francis, conspires against Leopold I., and estates
confiscated, 355;
leads new insurrection, 363
Rákos, diet at, 258;
meeting of National assembly at, 265
Raven Knight, the, 196
Reformation, 282;
in Hungary, 323
Religions, 14
Rivers and islands, 8
Roman influence, weakening of, 23
Roman emperors of Pannonian origin, 22
Rozgonyi, Cecilia, heroism of, 192
Rudolph of Hapsburg, alliance with Ladislaus IV., 145;
letter to Ladislaus, 146
Rudolph, son of Maximilian, King of Hungary, 342;
irritated with the Hungarian diet, 342;
leaves Hungary for 25 years, 342;
prohibits religious discussion in the diet, 345
Ruprecht, Emperor of Germany, dies, 187
Russ, Melchior, Swiss envoy, received by Matthias, 236
S
Sadowa, battle of, 438
Sarolta, wife of Duke Geyza, 51;
mother of Stephen, 68
Selim, Sultan, vows to build mosques in Jerusalem, Buda, and Rome, 282
Semendria, fortress of, 196
Serbs, rebellion of, 426-428
Serédy, Caspar, 286
Servia, conquered by the Turks, 182
Shabatz, siege of, 224;
siege of, by the Turks, 283;
taken by the Turks, 284
Shamanism, 53;
Magyars, religion of the, contains traces of the Parsee religion, 55
Sigismund, husband of Queen Mary, hypothecates the countries’ funds,
176;
crowned king of Hungary, 179;
marches into Croatia and Bosnia, 180;
makes alliance with Manuel, Emperor of the East, 183;
defeated by Bajazet, 184;
imprisoned, 185;
marries Barbara, daughter of Count Arminius Cilley, 186;
establishes the Order of the Dragon, 186;
elected emperor of Germany, 187;
war with Venice, 188;
travels of, 190;
offered the crown of Bohemia, 192;
death, 193
Sigismund Hampr, Bishop of Fünfkirchen, 263
Siklós, castle of Sigismund, 185
Silistria, conquered by the Turks, 182
Simon Kemény, 199
Slavonia, old constitution restored to, 437
Slovaks, sway of, 37
Slovenes, 37
Sobieski, John, of Poland, routs the Turks, 331
Solomon, son of Andrew, 104;
betrothal of, 104;
ascends throne, 108;
feud with sons of Béla, 109;
defeated at Mogyoród, 109;
leads the life of a hermit, 109
Solyman the Magnificent, 282;
sends ambassador to Louis II., attacks Shabatz and Belgrade, 283;
invades Hungary, 286;
defeats Louis at Mohács and enters Buda, 289;
returns to Constantinople, 295;
marches towards Vienna, 297;
retreats after siege of Köszeg, 298;
besieges Temesvár, 302;
invades Hungary for the sixth time, 311;
besieges Szigetvár, 311
Spalato, 141
Spanish war of succession, 364
Standing army, 369
States, general meeting of, 260
Stephen, baptism of, 57;
rebellion against, 59;
defeats Gyula and Khan, 60;
first king of Hungary, 65;
extinguishes the pagan faith, 72;
founds abbeys, 80;
munificence of, 82;
constitutional reforms, 84;
war with Conrad, 89;
advice to his son, 91;
chooses his successor, 95;
death of, 95;
canonization, 96
Stephen II., son of Coloman, ascends the throne, 116
Stephen III., son of Geyza, ascends the throne, 118;
dies, 119
Stuhlweissenburg, capital of Hungary, 102;
Wenceslaus crowned at, 152
Svatopluk, King of Moravia, 39;
death of, 41
Sylvester II., Pope, confirms Hungarian bishoprics, 74;
gives Stephen title of “Apostolic King,” 75;
presents crown to Stephen, 75
Szalánkemén, complete rout of Turks at, 333
Szalkán, primate of Hungary, 267
Szalkay, Bishop, 285
Szapolyai, Governor of Vienna, sells Hungarian throne to Uladislaus
of Poland, 261
Szapolyai, Stephen, aspires to the throne of Hungary, 265;
attempts to murder Uladislaus, 266
Szechenyi, Stephen, statue of, 400;
birth and history of, 402;
travels, 404;
speaks in Hungarian, 406;
founds the Academy of Sciences, 407;
first literary work, 409;
“Credit,” 410;
introduces horse-racing, 411;
rivalry with Kossuth, 412;
aristocratic tendencies of, 413;
insanity and suicide, 429
Szécsi, Desiderius, death of, 161
Szerenc, Emeric, 280
Szigetvár besieged by Solyman, 312;
death, 317.
Szondi, George, gallant defence of Drégel, 299;
asks favor of Ali Pasha, 300;
death, 301
Szörény, Turks repulsed by Kinizsy at, 264
T
_Talpra Magyar_, poem by Petöfi, 422
Táltos, Shamanish priests, 54
Tartars defeat Ráckóczy in Poland, 352
Tax, land and corn, imposed, by Leopold I., 355;
oppressive, imposed, 362;
made permanent, 369
Tax-poll, imposed on every inhabitant of Hungary, 356
Taxes, military aid invoked to collect, 437
Tcheremisses, 32
Tegetthoff, Admiral, 438
Telegdy, Stephen, protests against crusade, 268;
killed, 271
Temesvár, royal seat of Charles Robert of Anjou, 157;
siege of 302;
taken by Turks, 305;
restored to Hungary, 335
Theiss, battle of, 106;
regulation of, 411
Thirty Years’ War, beginning of, 347
Throne, claimants to, 151
Thurzó, Alexius, lends money to King Louis, 280
Tilly routs the Czechs near Prague, 348
Tinódy, Sebastian, poem on siege of Szigetvár, 318
Tökölyi, head of the rebels, 358;
proclaimed by the Porte king of Hungary, 359;
exiled in Turkey, 363
Tömöry, Paul, defeats the Turks at Nagy-Olasz, 286;
commander-in-chief at Mohács, 287
Torma, Andrew, heroically defends and is killed at Shabatz, 284.
Törok, Valentine, deserts Belgrade, 284
Trajan, campaign in Dacia, 20
Transylvania, gold and salt mines of, 20;
still asserts independence, 306;
forms a bulwark against the Turks, 320;
under Bethlen, 348;
downfall of, 351;
devastated by Tartar hordes, 354;
refuge for Hungarians, 357;
remains a separate duchy, 361;
old constitution restored to, 437
Trau, castle of, 141;
siege of, 141
Treaty of peace signed, 334
Tripartite code, 274
_Turks_, defeated at Maritza, 171;
invade Servia, 182;
condition of, 190;
a dangerous enemy, 197;
defeated by Hunyadi, 200;
victorious, 209;
invade Albania, 210;
defeated by Hunyadi near Belgrade, 214;
repulsed near Szörény, 264;
victorious at Mohács, 288;
take Buda, 289;
take Presburg, 293;
take Drégel, 301;
take Temesvár, 305;
repulsed before Erlau, 311;
take Szigetvár, 317;
routed near Vienna, 339;
defeated at Mohács, 333;
completely routed near Szalánkemén, 333;
annihilated by Duke Eugene, 334;
defeated near Peterwardein, 335;
oppose the increase of power of the house of Hapsburg, 339;
seize Alföld, 340;
treaty with the Germans, 351;
attack Leopold, 353;
invade Hungary, 359;
defeated by Prince Eugene, 359
Two kings, the rivalry between, 295
U
Uladislaus, elected to the throne of Hungary, 210;
King of Hungary and Poland, 203;
defeated by the Turks, 209;
dies, 210
Uladislaus of Poland, elected king of Hungary, 262;
birth of son, Louis, 266;
Anna of Candal, wife of Uladislaus, dies, 276;
dies, 276
Ujlaky, Duke, molests the royal domains, 267
United States enthusiastic reception of Kossuth, 435
V
Vajdafy, leader of the forces of Sigismund, 181
Valentine, John, envoy from Ferrara, received by Matthias, 236
Various nationalities, 12, 13
Varna, Hunyadi’s victory at, 208
Vaskapu (Iron Gate), 5, 201, 411
Vata, rebellion of, 60
Vatha, leads Pagan rebellion against Peter, 102;
defeat of, 103;
James, son of, 106
Vatican, the relations with the Church of Hungary, 186
Venice, humiliation of, 169;
beaten by the Hungarians, 188
Verboczy, Stephen, leader of party hostile to Uladislaus, 264;
tripartite code, 274
Vezprém, engagement at, 60
Viddin conquered by the Turks, 182
Vienna, Matthias holds court at, 249;
peace of, 346;
besieged, 359;
rebellion at, 429
Világos, battle near, 433
Visegrád, Charles of Anjou makes his residence at, 158;
tournaments at, 159;
guests at, 162;
Matthias’ sojourn at, 236;
gorgeousness of, 254
Voguls, 32
Volga and Danube, country between, 34
Votyaks, 32
Vörösmarty, Michael, 422
W
Wallachs, rising of, 385;
led by Hora and Kloska, 385;
rebellion of, 426
Wenceslaus, King of the Czechs, crowned at Stuhlweissenburg, 152
Wesselényi, palatine of Hungary, heads conspiracy against Leopold I.,
355;
dies, 355
Windischgratz, Prince, invades Hungary, 430;
loses his position, 431
Wolfgang, tries to spread Christianity, 55
Z
Zalán, Bulgarian prince, 37
Zemplén, 395
Zenta, defeat of Turks at, 334
Zernivar, fortress of, 329
Ziska, John, of Bohemia, devastates Hungary, 210
Zoltán, son of Arpád, 38
Zrinyi, Nicholas, commander at Szigetvár, 311;
begs aid from king, 312,
tempted and threatened by Solyman, 314;
makes oration to his soldiers, 317;
death, 317, 329;
annoys the Turks from his fortress of Zerinvár, 329;
dies, 330
Zrinyi, Peter, conspires against Leopold I., seized and beheaded, 355
Zyrians, 32
The Story of the Nations.
MESSRS. G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS take pleasure in announcing that they
have in course of publication a series of graphic historical studies,
intended to present to the young the stories of the different nations
that have attained prominence in history.
In the story form the current of each national life will be distinctly
indicated, and its picturesque and noteworthy periods and episodes will
be presented for the young reader in their philosophical relation to
each other as well as to universal history.
It will be the plan of the writers of the different volumes to enter
into the real life of the peoples, and to bring them before the reader
as they actually lived, labored, and struggled—as they studied and
wrote, and as they amused themselves. In carrying out this plan,
the myths, with which the history of all lands begins, will not be
overlooked, though these will be carefully distinguished from the
actual history, so far as the labors of the accepted historical
authorities have resulted in definite conclusions.
It is proposed to have the series present the results of the latest
investigations in the progressive department of historical research.
Disputed points will, however, not be discussed, but, instead, the
writers will present, in a simple, direct, and graphic style, the story
of each land, utilizing also, to illuminate the narrative, the side
lights that the poets and novelists have cast upon it.
Possessing a knowledge of and sympathy with the youthful way of
looking at such subjects, the writers will not offer annals, arid and
unconnected, nor bare chronological statements of events, however
complete. They will not expect to include all details of minor
importance, but, on the contrary, will try to present pictures adapted
to leave faithful impressions of the essential facts.
The editors will endeavor to preserve a unity of design and execution
that will enable the series to give to the reader a survey of the
rise and progress of the nations sufficient to form a sound basis for
subsequent reading and study; but it will not be attempted to cover in
detail the entire ground of universal history.
The subjects of the different volumes will be planned to cover
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that the set when completed will present in a comprehensive narrative
the chief events in the great STORY OF THE NATIONS; but it will, of
course, not always prove practicable to issue the several volumes in
their chronological order.
The “Stories” are printed in good readable type, and in handsome 12mo
form. They are adequately illustrated and furnished with maps and
indexes. They are sold separately, at a price of $1.50 each.
The following is a partial list of the subjects thus far determined
upon:
THE STORY OF EGYPT. Prof. GEORGE RAWLINSON.
” ” ” *CHALDEA. Z. RAGOZIN.
” ” ” *GREECE. Prof. JAMES A. HARRISON, Washington and
Lee University.
” ” ” *ROME. ARTHUR GILMAN.
” ” ” *THE JEWS. Prof. JAMES K. HOSMER, Washington University
of St. Louis.
” ” ” CARTHAGE. Prof. ALFRED J. CHURCH, University College,
London.
” ” ” GAUL.
” ” ” BYZANTIUM. CHARLTON T. LEWIS.
” ” ” EARLY BRITAIN. Prof. ALFRED J. CHURCH.
” ” ” THE GOTHS. HENRY BRADLEY.
” ” ” THE NORMANS. SARAH O. JEWETT.
” ” ” PERSIA. S. G. W. BENJAMIN.
” ” ” *SPAIN. Rev. E. E. and SUSAN HALE.
” ” ” *GERMANY. S. BARING GOULD.
” ” ” THE ITALIAN REPUBLICS.
” ” ” HOLLAND. Prof. C. E. THOROLD ROGERS.
” ” ” *NORWAY. HJALMAR H. BOYESEN.
” ” ” THE MOORS IN SPAIN. STANLEY LANE-POOLE.
” ” ” *HUNGARY. Prof. A. VÁMBÉRY.
” ” ” THE ITALIAN KINGDOM. W. L. ALDEN.
* (The volumes starred are now ready, August, 1886.)
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
NEW YORK LONDON
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