The story of Hungary

by Ármin Vámbéry

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.