Round About the Carpathians Part 16

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 fas.h.i.+on 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 cla.s.ses 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 antic.i.p.ation 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 cla.s.s 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.

During the war of independence these robber bands rallied round their elected chief, Shandor Bozsa, and actually offered their services to the Hungarian Government, as they desired to take part in the great national struggle. The Provisional Government accepted their services, and they came pouring in from every part of the country. At first they behaved very well, and in fact many of these "irregulars" distinguished themselves by acts of great valour. In the end it was the old story; they soon showed a degree of insubordination that rendered them worse than useless to the regular army. By the time the struggle for independence had found its melancholy ending at Villagos, these fellows were again at their old tricks of horse-stealing and cattle-lifting, and they went so far as to waylay even the _honved_, the national Hungarian militia. The well-disposed part of the community was powerless to resist the robbers, for after the disastrous events of 1849 the Austrian Government prohibited the possession of firearms, even for hunting purposes, so that villages and towns, one might almost say, were at the mercy of a band of well-armed robbers. The Government were so busy hunting down political conspirators, and hanging, shooting, and imprisoning patriots, that they were indifferent to the increase of brigandage. The statistics of the political persecutions which Hungary suffered at the hands of Austria during the ten years that followed Villagos were significant. Upwards of two thousand persons were sentenced to death, nearly ten times that number were thrown into prison, and almost five thousand Hungarian patriots were driven into exile--amongst the number Deak, the yet-to-be saviour of his country.

But to return to the robbers. They had spread themselves over the whole land; from the forests of Bakony to Transylvania, from the Carpathians to the Danube, no place was free from these desperate marauders. They committed incredible deeds of boldness. On one occasion seven or eight robbers attacked a caravan of thirty waggons in the neighbourhood of Szegedin, the cavalcade being on its way to the fair in that town. The traders were without a single firearm amongst them, so that the fully--armed brigands effected their purpose, though it was broad daylight. Another time they entered a market town in Transylvania and coolly demanded that the broken wheel of their waggon should be mended, threatening to shoot down anybody who offered the slightest opposition.

The post was frequently stopped, but it came to be remarked, that though the pa.s.sengers were generally killed, the drivers escaped. This, together with the fact that the post was always stopped when there were large sums of money in course of transit, led the authorities to suspect that their employes were in collusion with the robbers, and subsequent events proved this to be the case.

When the hostility of Austria had somewhat cooled down, the dangerous up-growth of these robber bands attracted the serious attention of the Government, and not only _gendarmerie_ but military force were employed against them. The officials to a man were Germans and Bohemians, indifferently honest, and hated by the peasantry, who, after all, preferred a Hungarian robber to an Austrian official. The consequence was that they were not by any means very ready to depose against the "poor lads," and the Government found themselves unequal to cope with the difficulty, so things went from bad to worse.

In 1867, when at last the reconciliation policy of Deak had effected a substantial peace with Austria, the Hungarian Const.i.tution being reestablished, and the towns and _comitats_ (counties) having got back their prerogatives and self-government, the intolerable evil of brigandage was at once brought before the attention of the Parliament a.s.sembled at Buda-Pest. There were a great many speeches made upon the subject, and Count Forgacs with a considerable military force was despatched to Zala and the adjoining country against the robbers. He simply drove them out of one part of the country to carry on their devastations in another, and dreadful robberies and murders were reported from Szegedin. On several occasions the post was stopped, and the pa.s.sengers were invariably killed. They even stopped the railway train one day at Peteri.

Government were now obliged to take stronger measures. They recalled Count Forgacs, and despatched Count Radaz as Royal Commissary with augmented powers, Parliament in the mean time voting a grant of 60,000 florins for the purpose.

The energetic measures taken by Count Radaz led to some remarkable disclosures. He discovered that tradesmen, magistrates, and other employes in towns and villages were in communication with the brigands, and in fact shared the booty. It came to be remarked that certain persons returned suddenly to their homes after a mysterious absence, which corresponded with the commission of some desperate outrage in another part of the country.

In the s.p.a.ce of fifteen months Count Radaz had to deal with nearly six hundred cases of capital offences, and no less than two hundred of the malefactors were condemned to the gallows.

"Wherever they can the peasants will shelter the 'poor lads' from the law," said my friend. "It happened only last spring in our neighbourhood that a robber had been tracked to a village, but though this had happened on several occasions, yet the authorities failed to find him.

It was known that he had a sweetheart there, a handsome peasant girl, who was herself a favourite with everybody. One day, however, the soldiers discovered him hidden in a hay-loft. There was a terrible struggle; the robber, discharging his revolver, killed one man and wounded another. At length he was secured, strongly bound, and placed in a waggon to be conveyed to the nearest fortress. When pa.s.sing through a wood the convoy was set upon by a lot of women, who flung flowers into the waggon, and a little farther on a rescue was attempted; but the military were in strong force, and the villagers had to content themselves with loud expressions of sympathy for the 'poor lad.' He was, in truth, a handsome, gallant young fellow--open-handed, generous to the poor, and with the courage of a lion--just the sort of hero for a mischievous romance."

The following story, related by my friend Baroness B----, proves that there were men amongst these outlaws who were not dest.i.tute of patriotic feeling. In the year 1867 a band of "poor lads" surprised a country gentleman's house by night. It was their habit to ask for money and valuables, and woe betide those who refused, unless they were strong enough to resist the demand. Horrible atrocities were committed by these miscreants, who have been known to torture the inhabitants of lonely dwellings, finis.h.i.+ng their brutal work by setting fire to house and homestead.

On the occasion above named the robber band consisted of more than a dozen well-armed men, and as the household was but small, resistance was out of the question. They made a forcible entrance, and were going the round of every room in the house, collecting all valuables of a portable nature, when it chanced that they entered the guest-chamber, that had for its occupant no less a person than the great patriot Francis Deak. The intruders instantly pounced on a very handsome gold watch lying on a table near the bedside. Mr Deak, thus rudely disturbed, awoke to the unpleasant fact that his much-prized watch was in the hands of the robbers. Giving them credit for some feelings of patriotism, he simply told them who he was, adding that the watch was the keepsake of a dear departed friend, and begged they would restore it to him. On hearing his name the chief immediately handed the watch back, apologising "very much for breaking in on the repose of honoured Mr Deak, whom they held in so much respect," adding "that the nature of their occupation obliged them to make use of the hours of the night for their work."

The chance of interviewing Mr Deak was not to be neglected, so the robber chief sat down by the bedside of the statesman and had a chat about political affairs, and finally took his leave with many expressions of respect. Not an article of Mr Deak's was touched; they even contented themselves with a very moderate amount of black-mail from the master of the house, and no one was personally injured in any way.

My next story is a very romantic one; it was related to me by an English friend who was travelling in Hungary as long ago as 1846, when the circ.u.mstance had recently occurred. It seems that in those days a certain lady, the widow of a wealthy magnate, inhabited a lonely castle not far from the princ.i.p.al route between Buda and Vienna. She received one morning a polite note requesting her to provide supper at ten o'clock that night for twelve gentlemen! She knew at once the character of her self-invited guests, and devised a novel mode of defence. Some people would have sent post-haste to the nearest town for help, but the _chatelaine_ could easily divine that every road from the castle would be watched to prevent communication, so she made her own plans.

At ten o'clock up rode an armed band, twelve men in all; immediately the gate of the outer court and the entrance door were thrown open, as if for the most honoured and welcome guests. The lady of the castle herself stood in the entrance to receive them, richly dressed as if for an entertainment. She at once selected the chief, bade him welcome, gave orders that their horses should be well cared for, and then taking the arm of her guest, she led him into the dining-hall. Here a goodly feast was spread, the tables and sideboard being covered with a magnificent display of gold and silver plate, the acc.u.mulation of many generations.

The leader of the robber band started back surprised, but immediately recovering his presence of mind, he seated himself calmly by the side of his charming hostess, who soon engaged him in conversation about the gay world of Vienna, whose doings were perfectly familiar to them both. At length, when the feast was nearly ended, the chief took out his watch and said, "Madame, the happiest moments of my life have always been the shortest. I have another engagement this night, but before I leave allow me to tell you that in appealing to my honour, as you have done to-night, you have saved me from the commission of a crime. Bad as I am, none ever appealed to my honour in vain. As for you, my men," he said, looking sternly round with his hand on his pistol, "I charge you to take nothing from this house; he who disobeys me dies that instant."

The chief then asked for pen arid paper, and writing some sentences in a strange character, handed it to his hostess, saying, "If you or your retainers should at any time lose anything of value, let that paper be displayed in the nearest town, and I pledge you my word the missing articles shall be returned." After this he took his leave, the troop mounted their horses and departed.

My friend told me that he was enabled to verify the story; and he subsequently discovered the real name of the robber chief. He was an impoverished cadet of one of the n.o.blest families in Hungary. His fate was sad enough; lie was captured a few months after this incident, and ended his life under the hands of the common hangman.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

Return to Buda-Pest--All-Souls' Day--The cemetery--Secret burial of Count Louis Batthyanyi--High rate of mortality at Buda-Pest.

Some matters of business recalled me to Buda-Pest in the midst of a round of visits in Transylvania. The great hospitality of my new friends would have rendered a winter in that delightful country most agreeable, but the holiday part of my tour was over, and circ.u.mstances led me to pa.s.s some months in the capital.

I got back just in time for All-Souls' Day. The _Fete des Morts_ is observed with great ceremony throughout Hungary, especially at Buda-Pest. In the afternoon of this day a friend and myself joined the throng, who were with one accord making their way eastward along the Radial Stra.s.se, the great thoroughfare of Pest. It appeared as if the whole population of the town had turned out; private carriages, tramways, droskies alike were all crammed, driving in the same direction with the ceaseless stream of pedestrians. It was the day for the living to visit their dead! Attired in black, almost every one carried a funeral wreath; even the poorest and the humblest were taking some floral offering to their beloved ones who sleep for evermore in the great cemetery.

There is a dynamic force in the sympathy of a crowd. I had the sensation of being carried along with the moving ma.s.ses, without the exercise of my own will, I hardly know how one could have turned back. And on we went, the light of the short winter day meanwhile fading quickly into the gloom of night. Once beyond the gaslighted streets, the sense of darkness in the midst of the surging mult.i.tude was oppressive and unnatural. We were borne on towards the princ.i.p.al gate of the cemetery, and here the effect was most striking. We left the outer darkness, and stepped into an area of light; beyond the belt of cypress and of yew there was so brilliant an illumination that it threw its glowing reflection on the clouds that hung pall-like over the whole city.

In all that crowded cemetery--and it is crowded--there was not a single grave without its lights. The most ordinary had rows of candles marking the simple form of the gravestone; but there were costlier tombs, with an array of lamps in banks of flowers beautifully arranged; and in the mausoleum of Batthyanyi the illuminations were effected by gas in the form of architectural lines of light. At this point the crowd was greatest. To visit the tomb of the martyred statesman is deemed a patriotic duty. The particulars relating to the disposal of Count Batthyanyi's body after his judicial murder in 1849 are not very generally known; the facts are as follows.

At the close of hostilities in 1849, Haynau, commissioned by the Vienna Government, condemned people to death with unsparing barbarity--it was a way the Austrians had of stamping out insurrections. Amongst their victims was Count Louis Batthyanyi, some time President of the Hungarian Diet. Haynau wanted to have him hung at the gallows, but he was mercifully shot, at Pest on the 6th October 1849. It is said that the infamous Haynau was nearly mad with rage that his n.o.ble victim escaped the last indignity of hanging. His remains were ordered to be buried in a nameless coffin in the burial-ground of the common criminals,.and for many years it was supposed that he had received no other sepulchre. This was not so, however, for two priests who were greatly attached to the magnate's family procured possession of his body, and secretly conveyed it to the church in the Serviten Ga.s.se, where they built up the coffin in the wall, and carefully preserved it for years. When the reconciliation with Austria took place, concealment being no longer necessary, they revealed their secret. The coffin was then opened, and it was found that the features of the unfortunate Batthyanyi had been singularly well preserved. Several who had fought for freedom by his side in 1848 looked once more on the face of their leader. The subsequent funeral in the new cemetery was made the occasion of a very marked display of patriotic feeling. Later an imposing monument was erected, but Count Batthyanyi's best and most enduring monument is the part he took in the emanc.i.p.ation of the serfs.

Turning aside from the public demonstrations around the tombs of poets and patriots, we wandered down the more secluded alleys of the cemetery.

In a lonely spot, quite away from the crowd and the glare, we came upon an exquisite little plot of garden with growing flowers, shrubs, and cypress-trees, tended, one could see, with loving care, "and in the garden there is a sepulchre." I shall not easily forget the look of ineffable grief visible on the face of an elderly man who was arranging and rearranging the lights round and about the family grave. We noticed that the names on the slab were those of a wife and mother, followed by her children, several of them, sons and daughters, the dates of their decease being terribly close one upon another. I had a conviction that the lonely man we saw there was the only survivor of his family; I feel sure it must have been so. It was very touching the way in which he (aimlessly, it seemed to me) moved first this light and then the other, or grouped them together around the vases of sweet flowers that decked the graves. It was all that remained for him to do for his beloved ones; and we could see the poor man was vainly occupying himself, lingering on, unwilling to leave the spot!

We had not much fancy for returning amongst the patriotic crowd gathered about the gaslighted Valhalla, so we made our way out.

We English must have our say about statistics whenever there is a wedding or a funeral, and as a fact Buda-Pest comes out very badly in its death-rate. It is only within the last two or three years that they have taken to publish the comparative returns of the capital cities of Europe, and now it appears that Buda-Pest is in the unenviable position of having on an average the highest death-rate of any European town! By some this is attributed to the great excess of infant mortality--consolatory for the grown-up people, as reducing their risk; but the children, who die like flies before they are twelve months old, may say with the epitaph in the country churchyard--

"If then we so soon were done for, What the deuce were we begun for?"

I do not speak as one with authority, but duly-qualified persons tell me that nursery reform is much needed in Hungary. I know not what it is they do with the children, only it seems the system is wrong somewhere, as the bills of mortality clearly testify.

Then, again, the position of Pest is not healthy; it lies low, indeed some part of the city is built on the old bed of the Danube. The drainage, however, is very much improved of late years, and the magnificent river embankments have done much to obviate the malaria arising from mud-banks.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

Skating--Death and funeral of Deak--Deak's policy--Uneasiness about the rise of the Danube--Great excitement about inundations--The capital in danger--Night scene on the embankment--Firing the danger-signal--The great calamity averted.

The winter is usually a very pleasant season at Buda-Pest. There is plenty of amus.e.m.e.nt; in fact, during the carnival, parties, b.a.l.l.s, and concerts succeed one another without cessation. The Hungarians dance as though it were an exercise of patriotism; with them it is no languid movement half deprecated by the utilitarian soul--it is a pa.s.sion whirling them into ecstasy. But dancing was not the only diversion. The winter I was at Buda-Pest a long spell of enduring frost gave us some capital skating. The fas.h.i.+onable society meet for this amus.e.m.e.nt in the park, where there is a piece of ornamental water about five acres in extent. Here the Skating Club have established themselves, having erected a handsome pavilion at the side of the lake to serve as a clubhouse.

From time to time _fetes_ are given on the ice. I was present on more than one occasion, and I must say it would be difficult to imagine a more animated or a prettier scene. The Hungarians always display great taste in their arrangements for festive gatherings. During the gay carnival of 1876 "all went merry as a marriage-bell" till the sad news spread that the great patriot Deak was sick unto death. Then we heard that he had pa.s.sed away from our midst--I say "our midst," for Hungary throws a glamour over the stranger that is within her gates, and, moved by irresistible sympathy, you are led to rejoice in her joy and mourn with her in her sorrow.

Buda-Pest presented on the day of Deak's funeral a scene never to be forgotten. It was a whole people mourning for their friend--their safe guide in time of trouble, the statesman who of all others had planted a firm basis of future prosperity.

Francis Deak was endowed with that rare gift of persuasion which can appeal to hostile parties, and in the end unite them in common patriotic action. Any one who has attentively considered the state of parties in Hungary during the last decade will know with what irreconcilable elements the great statesman had to deal. To the Magyars he said, "He who will be free himself must be just to others;" while to the Slavs he said, "Labour with us, that we may labour for you." "Reconciliation"

and "compromise" with Austria were the most unpopular words that could be uttered at that time, yet Deak bravely spoke them in his famous open letter on Easter day 1865. He continued his calm and steady appeal to public opinion till his patriotic efforts were rewarded by the close of that long-standing strife between the Hungarian people and their king.

On the day of the funeral the ground was white with snow, the cold was intense, but a vast concourse of people followed Deak to his grave. On the road to the cemetery every house was hung with black, the city was really and truly in mourning; and well it might be, for their great peace-maker was dead, the man who beyond all others of his generation had the power to restrain the impatient enthusiasm of his countrymen by wise counsels that had grown almost paternal in their gentle influence.

While we were still thinking and talking of Deaks political career, a very present cause for anxiety arose in reference to the state of the Danube. The annual breaking up of the ice is always antic.i.p.ated with uneasiness, for during this century no less than thirteen serious inundations have occurred. This year there was reason for alarm, for early in January the level of the river was unusually high, and a further rise had taken place, unprecedented at that season.

The greatest disaster of the kind on record took place in 1838, when the greater part of Pest was inundated, and something like four thousand houses were churned up in the flood; nor was this all, for the loss of life had been very considerable, owing to the sudden nature of the calamity on that occasion. The recollection of this terrible disaster within the living memory of many persons kept the inhabitants of Buda-Pest very keenly alive to any abnormal rise of the Danube waters.

There were, besides, additional circ.u.mstances which created uneasiness and led to very acrimonious discussions. In recent years certain "rectifications" had been effected in the course of the Danube, which one-half of the community averred would for ever prevent the chance of any recurrence of the catastrophe of 1838. But there are always two parties in every question--"Little-endians" and "Big-endians"--and a great many people were of opinion that these very "rectifications" were, in fact, an additional source of peril to the capital.

The case stands thus: the river, left to its own devices, separates below Pest into two branches, called respectively the Soroksar and the Promontar; these branches continue their course independently of each other for a distance of about fifty-seven kilometres, forming the great island of Csepel, which has an average width of about five kilometres.

By certain embankments on the Soroksar branch the _regime_ of the river has been disturbed, and according to the opinion of M. Revy, a French engineer,[22] this has been a grave mistake, and he thinks that the Danube misses her former channel of Soroksar more and more. He further remarks in the very strongest terms upon an engineering operation "which proposes the amputation of a vital limb, conveying about one-third of the power and life of a giant river when in flood--a step which has no parallel in the magnitude of its consequences in any river with which I am acquainted."