The story of Hungary

by Ármin Vámbéry

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.

HEROIC DEFENCE OF ERLAU.