One quarter of the population is German, another quarter Magyar (or Hungarian) and Roumanian, whilst the remaining half is made up of Italians together with Slavs, namely Poles, Croatians, Czechs, Slovaks.
The Magyars, a wild and interesting gipsy race, live in the centre of Hungary, more or less, while the Slavs, of the same blood as the Servians, are ringed round to the north and south, and outside them again on the German side come the Germans.
How did such diverse elements come to be included in one empire?
As might be supposed the centre of Europe took long to settle down. In the case of a country so happily situated as Great Britain the boundaries are natural ones. As for Spain (including Portugal) any child could rule off a line across the Pyrenees and say that the territory beyond would make a compact kingdom. France again is favoured by nature, though on one side she lies open. But when you come to the middle part of Europe there is nothing to indicate where one country should end and another begin, and the friction over boundaries never dies down; as a fact, it seems pure chance that the matter for the moment remains as it is. It might just as well have been the Austrian Empire which comprised the whole of the middle of Europe as the German one, had not the “luck” of the Austrian Emperor been adverse when the moment was ripe. Indeed, it is but a short time since the map gained its present outlines, and who can say it will remain stable?
The Holy Roman Empire included the present Austria-Hungary, with all that is now Germany. It was only about the beginning of our era that the name Austria arose, meaning the Ost-land or East-land; before that time the country was a dependency of Bavaria. About the same date Hungary emerged into a recognised kingdom under St. Stephen (997–1038), who was to that nation what King Alfred was to England. He endowed the church with great liberality, and was cultured far beyond the measure of his contemporaries. He advanced civilisation and trade, and was one of those enlightened souls which are now and then born out of due time to give light and leading to their fellows. The 20th of August is consecrated to him, and on that day a great procession is formed to carry through the capital his right hand embalmed and enclosed in a golden casket. To this day the Kings of Hungary are crowned with the crown presented by the Pope to the first King of Hungary. This forms the upper part of the present diadem, which stands on a new base. Once at least in its history this glorious and ancient crown was lost in the mud! When Otto the Bavarian came to be King of Hungary in 1301 he brought with him the sacred crown, which had before been taken away by the Germans, his allies. But the crown, in the confusion of the entry, was lost, and was only found at length in the deep mud of the hill tracks through which the party had passed.
In 1301 Stephen’s dynasty, the House of Arpad, became extinct, after giving to the nation many good kings, besides the two canonised, St. Stephen and St. Ladislas. Hungary had later as well good kings of other blood, including Louis the Great (1342–82), King of Poland also, when it was for a while the most powerful nation in central Europe.[1]
[1] The national poet Bajza says that at this epoch “the shores of three seas formed the frontiers of the kingdom.”
The Turks were always a thorn in the side of their northern neighbours, and their endless incursions and alarms were shared almost equally by Austria and Hungary, and in the end were the means of uniting the two countries. In his warfare with the Turks the great general, Janos Hunyadi, proved amazingly valiant and gained victories against desperate odds. Unluckily in one such combat the reigning King, Ladislas, was slain, and his head, raised aloft by his enemies, inspired panic among his own people and ensured their defeat. Nothing daunted, Hunyadi pursued his successes in the reign of the next King, and in 1456 scattered a Turkish host under the walls of Belgrade. It is said that 40,000 of his men were killed, and just in the hour of victory the great commander himself died. Besides being a notable general he was a wise statesman and a strong unselfish man.
His son, Matthias Corvinus Hunyadi (1458–1490), who was only fifteen, was afterwards elected King, and his name is one of the most remarkable in the whole roll of the Hungarians. From his youth up he had been accustomed to take care of himself in the midst of danger, and he developed into a resolute and strong soldier; what was perhaps more remarkable was that he was a patron of the arts and learning. His library was his chief pride, and in an age when reading was scorned he spent hours daily in this favourite resort. Here is a description of it taken from Hungary by Arminius Vambery (The Story of the Nations).
The library was in the castle of Buda, and the place assigned to it comprised two large halls, provided with windows of artistically stained glass opening into each other. The entrance consisted of a semi-circular hall commanding a magnificent view of the Danube. Both halls were provided with rich furniture. One of them contained the king’s couch, covered with tapestry embroidered with pearls, upon which he spent his leisure hours reading. Tripod-shaped chairs, covered with carpet, were placed about, recalling the Delphian Apollo. Richly carved shelves ran along the walls and were curtained with purple velvet tapestry, interwoven with gold. It would be difficult to describe properly the magnificence of the books themselves. They were all written on white vellum and bound in coloured skins, ornamented with rose diamonds and precious stones, and with the king’s portrait or his arms. The pages are illuminated with miniature paintings and ornaments, vying with each other in excellence, and the work of some of the most famous illuminators of the age.