The story of Hungary

by Ármin Vámbéry

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.