Buda-Pest, though the capital, is not the place to find the best Hungarian society. Many of the old families prefer Pressburg; and Klausenburg is to Transylvania what Edinburgh was to Scotland, socially speaking, before the days of railroads. In the season good society may be met with at the various baths, but every year the facilities of travel enable people to go farther a-field health-seeking and for pleasure.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A visit at Schloss B———National characteristics—Robber stories—Origin of the "poor lads"—Audacity of the robbers—Anecdote of Deák and the housebreaker—Romantic story of a robber chief.
The three weeks I remained at Schloss B—— were amongst the most agreeable days I spent in Transylvania. There were a great many visitors coming and going, affording me an excellent opportunity of seeing the society of that part of Hungary. With regard to the younger generation, the Transylvanians are like well-bred people all the world over. The ladies have something of the frankness of superior Americans—the sort of Americans that Lord Lytton describes in 'The Parisians'—and in consequence conversation has more vivacity than with us.
In the elder generation you may detect far more of national peculiarity; in some cases they retain the national dress, and with it the Magyar pride and ostentation, so strongly dashed with Orientalism. Then again, in the houses of the old nobility, one is struck by many curious incongruities. For example, Count T—— has a large retinue of servants—five cooks are hardly able at times to supply his hospitable board, so numerous are the guests—yet the walls of his rooms are simply whitewashed, and the furniture is a mixture of costly articles from Vienna and the handiwork of the village carpenter. A whole array of servants, who are in gorgeous liveries at dinner, may be seen barefooted in the morning.
In talking with some of the elderly members of the family, I heard many curious anecdotes of old Hungarian customs; but "the old order changeth" here as elsewhere, and a monotonous uniformity threatens the social world. Even as it is, everybody who entertains his friends at dinner is much the same as everybody else, be he in Monmouth or Macedon. Distinctive characteristics of race are found more easily in the common people, who are less amenable to the change of fashion than their superiors. Baroness B—— had a complete repertory of robber stories, some of which are so characteristic that I will repeat them here.
I have before alluded to the peculiarity which existed in the old system preserving to the peasant his personal freedom, though the land was burdened with duties. It was not till 1838 that the Austrians introduced the conscription, and subsequently they carried out the law with a brutality that made the innovation thoroughly detested by the peasantry. Accustomed to their tradition of personal freedom, the forced military service in itself was regarded with intense dislike. The richer classes were enabled to pay a certain sum of money for exemption, but the poor were helpless; they were dragged from their houses and sent to distant parts of the empire, to serve for a long period of years. As cases had not unfrequently occurred of the recruits running away, they were subjected to the ignominy of being chained together in gangs; and as if this was not enough, many superfluous brutalities were inflicted by the Austrian officials.
To escape from this hated service, many a young man fled from his home in anticipation of the next levy of the conscription, and hid himself in the shepherds' tanya in the plain. These remote dwellings in the distant puszta were no bad hiding—places, and the fugitives were freely harboured by the shepherds, who shared the animosity of the "poor lads" against the Austrian conscription. In course of time these outlaws found honest work difficult to procure; they became, in short, vagabonds on the face of the earth, and ended by forming themselves into robber bands. They had also their class grievance against the rich, who had been enabled to buy themselves off from serving in the army. The numbers of the original fugitives were soon increased by evil-doers from all sides—ruffians who had a natural bent for rapine—and a plague of robbers was the result, threatening all parts of Hungary. The mischief grew to such serious proportions, and it transpired that the robbers had everywhere accomplices in the towns and villages. Persons of apparently respectable position were suspected of favouring them; they were called "poor lads," and a glamour of patriotism was flung over the fugitives from Austrian tyranny.