On horseback to Petrosèny—A new town—Valuable coal-fields—Killing fish with dynamite and poison—Singular manner of repairing roads—Hungarian patriotism—Story of Hunyadi Janos—Intrusion of the Moslems into Europe.
The history of the town of Petrosèny is as short as that of some of the western cities of America. It began life in 1868, and is now the terminus of a branch railway.
Before the wicked days of dynamite, and as long ago as the year 1834, a fisherman was leisurely catching salmon-trout up the Sil; he had time to look about him, and he noticed that in many places the rocks had a black appearance. He broke off some pieces and carried them home, when he found that they burned like coal; in fact he had discovered a coal mine! Those were simple-minded days, for instead of running off with these valuable cinders under his arm, fixing on an influential chairman and a board of directors for his new company, this good man did nothing but talk occasionally of the black rock that he had seen when fishing. Many years elapsed before any advantage was taken of this valuable discovery. At length a more careful search was made, and it proved that coal existed there in abundance! In 1867 mining was commenced on a large scale by the Kronstäder Company. The next year a town was already growing up in the neighbourhood of the mines, and increased in a most surprising manner. In 1870 the railway was opened from Petrosèny to Piski, on the main line from Arad. The growth of the place, however, received a check in the financial crisis of 1873.
The town itself is in no way remarkable, being a mere collection of dwellings for the accommodation of the miners and the employés; but the scenery in the neighbourhood is simply magnificent. In approaching Petrosèny the railway rises one foot in forty, no inconsiderable gradient.
The coal-fields are partly in the hands of Government, and partly owned by the before-named Kronstäder Company. Between these separate interests there is not much accord. The Kronstäders say that Government has not behaved fairly or openly, but has secured to itself so many "claims" as to damage considerably the prospects of the private speculators.
While at Petrosèny, I heard great complaints against the Government for selling coal at such a low price that they must actually work at a loss. The Kronstäder Verein say they are prevented in this way from making their fair profits, as they are obliged to sell down to the others. It would appear to be a suicidal policy for the pockets of the tax-payers to be mulcted for the sake of securing a prospective monopoly and the ruin of a private enterprise. As it stands it is a pretty quarrel.
Writing in 1862, Professor Ansted says: "The coal of Hungary is of almost all geological ages, and though none is first-rate in point of quality, a large proportion is excellent fuel. The coals most valued at the present moment in Hungary are those of the Secondary and not of the Palæozoic period. But the great body of coal is very much newer; it is Tertiary, and till lately was regarded as of comparatively modern date. In the Ysil Valley there is a splendid deposit of true coal."[14] Since the time when the above was written the resources of the Ysil or Sil Valley—viz., Petrosèny—have been abundantly developed, as we see, and it has been pronounced to be "one of the finest coal mines in Europe." One of the seams of coal is ninety feet in thickness; but up to the present time it has been found impossible to make it into coke.
The miners at Petrosèny are great offenders in regard to the abominable practice of killing fish by means of dynamite. It is very well to say that the law forbids it; but the administrators of the law are not always a terror to evil-doers, and perhaps the timely present of a dish of fine trout does not sharpen the energies of the officials. Another mode of destroying fish is practised by the Wallacks. There grows in this locality a poisonous plant, of which they make a decoction and throw it into the river, thereby killing great numbers of fish at a time.
While driving round Petrosèny I had an opportunity of seeing the Hungarian manner of making roads. The peasants have to work on the roads a certain number of days in the year, and if they possess a pair of oxen, these must also be brought for a specified time. An inspector is supposed to watch over them. One afternoon we came upon a score of peasants, men and women, who were engaged in mending a bridge. Their proceedings were just an instance of how "not to do a thing." They were placing trees across the gap, and the interstices they were filling up with leafy branches, over which was thrown a quantity of loose earth and stones well patted down to give the appearance of a substantial and even surface. Of course the first rain would wash away the earth and leave as nice a hole as you could wish your enemy to put his foot into. For all purposes of traffic the bridge was safer with the honest gap yawning in the traveller's face.
It is said that the magistrates make matters easy and convenient for the peasants, if the latter, by being let off public work, attend gratuitously to the more pressing wants of the individual magistrate.
"You see, nobody suffers but the Government," says the man of easy conscience, not seeing that, after all, the good condition of the roads concerns themselves more than the officials in the capital.
In many things the Hungarians are like children, and they have not yet grown out of the idea that it is patriotic to be unruly. The fact is, the Central Government was so long in the hands of the Vienna Cabinet, who were obnoxious in the highest degree to the Hungarians, that the latter cannot get the habit of antagonism out of their minds, though the reconciliation carried through by Deák in 1867 entirely restored self-government to Hungary. "What do we want with money?" said a gentleman of the old school. "Money is only useful for paying taxes, and if we have not got it for that purpose, never mind!"
On leaving Petrosèny the route I proposed to myself was to take the bridle-path over the mountains to Herrmannstadt. But in following this out, I omitted to visit the Castle of Hunyad—a great mistake, for castles are rare in this part of Europe, and the romantic and singular position of Schloss Hunyad renders it quite unique in a way. It is situated, I am told, on a lofty spur of rock, washed on three sides by two rivers which unite at its base, a draw-bridge connecting the building with a fortified eminence high above the stream.
The place is associated with the name of Hungary's greatest hero, John Hunyadi, who was born near by, and who subsequently built the castle. The story of his birth, which took place somewhere about 1400, is romantic enough. His mother was said to be a beautiful Wallack girl called Elizabeth Marsinai, who was beloved by King Sigismund. When he left her he gave her his signet ring, which she was to bring to him in Buda if she gave birth to a son.
Showing all proper respect to the wishes of its parents, a child of the "male persuasion" made its appearance in due course of time; and the joyful mother, accompanied by her brother, set off walking to Buda, with the small boy and the ring for credentials. When resting by the way in a forest the child began playing with the ring, and a jackdaw, who in all ancient story has a weakness for this sort of ornament, pounced upon the shining jewel and carried it off to a tree. The brother with commendable quickness took up his bow and shot the bird; thus the ring was recovered, and the story duly related to the king, who evolved out of the incident a prophetic omen of the boy's future greatness. His majesty had the child brought up at the Court, and bestowed upon him the town of Hunyad and sixty surrounding villages.
It was in the reign of Sigismund that the Turks first regularly invaded Hungary; and the young Hunyadi soon distinguished himself by a series of victories over the Moslems. To him Europe is indebted for the check he gave the Turks. He forced them to relinquish Servia and Bosnia, and in his time both provinces were placed under the vassalage of Hungary. We may go further and say that had Hunyadi's plans for hurling back the Moslem invaders been seconded by the other Christian powers, we should not have the Eastern Question upon our hands in this our day. But, alas! all the solicitations of this great patriot were met with short-sighted indifference by the Courts of Europe. It is true that the Diet of Ratisbon, summoned by the Emperor Frederick, voted 10,000 men-at-arms and 30,000 infantry to assist in repelling the Turks; and it is true that the Pope in those days was anti-Turkish, and vowed on the Gospels to use every effort, even to the shedding of his blood, to recover Constantinople from the infidels. The old chronicles give a curious account of the monk Capestrano, who, bearing the cross that the Pope had blessed, traversed Hungary, Transylvania, and Wallachia, to rouse the people to the danger that threatened them from the intrusion of the Moslem into Europe. Special church services were instituted; and at noon the "Turks' bell" was daily sounded in every parish throughout these border-lands, when prayers were offered up to arrest the progress of the common enemy of Christendom.
Hunyadi's son, Matthias Corvinus, rivalled his father as a champion against the Turks. He was elected King of Hungary, and after reigning forty-two years, passed away; and the people still say, "King Matthias is dead, and justice with him."