The story of Hungary 10

The story of Hungary 10

After the first half of the tenth century religious ideas began to

exercise a more powerful influence in Europe than before. The great

movement which originated in the monastery of Cluny, in France, held

out to the world the promise of a new salvation. Men of extraordinary

endowments began again to proclaim with evangelical enthusiasm the

mortification of the flesh, in order to exalt the soul, and the

suppression of earthly desires for the purpose of restoring the true

faith to its pristine glory. They insisted that the shepherd of the

faithful souls, the Church, should be freed from all earthly fetters

and interests, for, just as the soul was above the body, so was the

Church superior to the worldly communities. The Church therefore,

they taught, must be raised from her humiliating position, her former

dependence changed into a state of the most complete freedom. As a

consequence, the visible head of the Church, the Pope, could not be

allowed to remain the servant of the head of the worldly power, the

emperor, for it was the former that Providence had entrusted with the

care of the destinies and happiness of humanity. These ideas spread

triumphantly and with incredible rapidity throughout all Europe.

They were heralded by a sort of prophetic frenzy; and soul-stirring

fanaticism followed in their train. The age of asceticism, long past

and become an object almost of contempt, was rescued from oblivion

and revived. The despised body was again subjected to tortures and

vexations, and the purified soul longed for the destruction of its own

earthly existence in order to soar on high freed from mundane trammels.

It was the miraculous age of hermits, saints, and martyrs who made it

resound with their wailing and weeping, changing this home of dust

into a valley of tears, so that the soul transported to the regions

of bliss might appear in greater splendor to the dazzled eyes of the

earthly beholder. The popes, moreover, riding high on the unchained

waves, guided the Church through the tempest of the newly awakened

religious passions, with a watchful eye and steady persistence toward

one end—the exaltation of the papal power over that of the emperors. At

the end of the tenth century Pope Sylvester II. was the representative

of the spirit of the age clamoring for the aggrandizement of the papal

power, and Otto III. represented in opposition to him the imperial

power, undermined by the new ideas. Since the overthrow of the Western

Roman empire the world had not been called upon to witness a contest

of greater import than the impending struggle between these two rival

powers. The great upheaval, indeed, which was to shake Europe to its

very centre, did not take place until half a century later, but the

seeds, from which the war of ecclesiastical investiture, the stir of

the crusades, and the universality of the papal power were to spring,

were already scattered throughout the soil which had lain barren

through many centuries.

 

This was the age which gave birth to Stephen and in which he

was educated, but his exalted mind rejected the exaggerations,

eccentricities, and errors of his time and accepted only its noble

sentiments and ideas. His sober-mindedness was equal to his religious

enthusiasm, and as his innate energy exceeded both, he left it to

religious visionaries to indulge in ascetic dreams. He desired to be

the apostle of the promises of his faith, but not their martyr. He made

the maintenance, defence, and extension of Christianity the task of his

life, because he saw in its establishment the only sure means for the

safety and happiness of his people. He pursued no schemes looking to

adventures in foreign lands, but devoted all his thoughts, feelings,

and energies to his own nation, subordinating to her interests

everybody and every thing else. He defended these alike against

imperial attacks and papal encroachments. His eyes were fixed on the

Cross, but his strong right arm rested on the hilt of his sword, and

his apostolic zeal never made him forget for a single moment his duty

to a people which had gone through many trials, whose position amongst

the European nations was a very difficult one, whose destinies rested

in his hands, and who were yet to be called upon to play a great part

in the history of the world.

 

Stephen was about twenty-eight years old when he succeeded his father

in 997. He at once embarked with the enthusiasm of youth, coupled with

the deliberation and constancy of manhood, on his mission to bring to

a happy conclusion the task begun by his mother. In this work he was

sedulously assisted by Astrik and his monastic brethren, and the gaze

of the foreign Christian lords, who had immigrated with his Bavarian

wife, as well as of the great number of lay and ecclesiastical persons

who came, flocking to the country, was centred upon the young royal

leader, who surpassed them all in zeal and enthusiasm. He spared

no pains, nor was he deterred by dangers; he visited in person the

remotest parts of the realm, bringing light to places where darkness

prevailed, and imparting truth where error stalked defiantly. He sought

out the men of distinction and the mighty of the land, and the hearts

which were closed to the message of the foreign monks freely opened

to his wise and friendly exhortations. Where he could not prevail by

the charms of his apostolic persuasion he unhesitatingly threw the

weight of his royal sword into the scale. Whilst battling with the

arms of truth he did not recoil from using violence, if necessary, in

its service. Fate did not spare him the cruel necessity of having to

proceed even against his own blood.

 

The more rapidly and successfully the work of conversion went on,

the greater became the apprehension and exasperation of those who

looked upon the destruction of the ancient pagan faith as dangerous

and ruinous to their nation. Nor did these recoil from any hazard to

maintain their faith and to prevent the national ruin anticipated

by them. They took up arms on more than one occasion, as has been

previously mentioned, but Stephen succeeded in quelling the dangerous

rebellions. Assisted by the foreign knights, he broke the power

of paganism, and he showed no regard for any pretence of national

aspirations. Those who still harbored the ancient faith in their hearts

kept it secretly locked up there, and for the time being at least did

homage to the new faith and the power of the king. The possessions of

the rebels were devoted to ecclesiastical uses, and the king, at the

same time, bestirred himself in the organization of the triumphant

Church. He divided the converted territory into ecclesiastical

districts, providing each with a spiritual chief, and placing the

ecclesiastical chief of Gran at the head of all and of the Church

government instituted by him. He caused fortified places to be erected

throughout the newly organized Church territory for the defence of

Christianity, as well as for the maintenance of his own worldly power,

which began nearly to rival that of the other Christian kings.

 

But in order successfully to carry into effect these measures, Stephen

had to obtain their confirmation by at least one of the leading powers

which then shared in the mastery over Europe—namely, imperialism and

papacy. The emperors, on the one hand, claimed supreme authority over

all the pagan populations converted to Christianity, while the papal

see, on the other hand, was inclined to protect against the empire the

smaller nations, which were jealous of their independence, in order

to gain allies for the impending struggle of the Church against the

empire. Stephen was quick to choose between these two. The German

Church—except in the abortive attempt made by Bishop Pilgrin—had

contributed but little to the conversion of the Hungarian people, and

it could therefore lay no claim to exercise any authority over the

Church of Hungary. Nor had the German kings done any thing to assist

Geyza and Stephen in their attempts at conversion. Stephen had before

him the example of his brother-in-law, Boleslas of Poland, who had

but recently applied to the papal see for the bestowal of the royal

crown, in order to secure the independence of his position as a ruler

and that of the Church in his realm. The religious bent of Stephen’s

mind, combined with his acute perception of the true interests of

his country, induced him, at last, in the spring of 1000, to send a

brilliant embassy to Rome, under the lead of the faithful, experienced,

and indefatigable Astrik.

 

Pope Sylvester II., than whom no one exerted himself more strenuously

to increase the papal power, received the Hungarian envoys cordially,

and upon learning from Astrik their mission, he exclaimed: “I am but

apostolic, but thy master who sent thee here is, in truth, the apostle

of Christ himself!” He readily complied with Stephen’s every request,

adding even more signal favors. He confirmed the bishoprics already

established, and empowered him to establish additional ones, conferring

upon Stephen, at the same time, such rights in the administration of

the affairs of the Church of Hungary as hitherto had been allowed only

to the most illustrious princes in Christendom, the sovereigns of

France and Germany. He granted to Stephen and his successors the right

of styling themselves “apostolic kings,” and to have carried before

them, on solemn occasions, the double cross, as an emblem of their

independent ecclesiastical authority. As a further mark of his favor,

the Pope presented Stephen with the crown which had been destined for

Boleslas of Poland, in order to symbolize for all times to come the

blessing bestowed upon the Hungarian kingdom by God’s representative

upon earth. The crown of to-day, weighing altogether 136 ounces, is

not quite identical with the crown that adorned St. Stephen’s head.

It now consists of two parts. The upper and more ancient part is the

crown sent by Pope Sylvester, the lower one has been added at a later

date. The former is formed by two intersecting hoops and connected at

the four lower ends by a border. On its top is a small globe capped

by a cross, which is now in an inclined position, and beneath it is

seen a picture of the Saviour in sitting posture, surrounded by the

sun, the moon, and two trees. The entire surface of the two hoops

is adorned with the figures of the twelve apostles, each having an

appropriate Latin inscription, but four of these figures are covered

by the lower crown. The lower or newer crown is an open diadem from

which project, in front, representations of ruins, which terminate in

a crest alternating with semicircular bands. The seams of the latter

are covered with smaller-sized pearls, and larger oval pearls adorn the

crests. Nine small drooping chains, laid out with precious stones,

are attached to the lower rim. A large sapphire occupies the centre of

the front of the diadem, and above it, on a semicircular shield, is a

representation of the Saviour. To the left and right of the sapphire

are representations of the archangels, Michael and Gabriel, and of

the four saints, Damianus, Dominic, Cosmus, and George, and, finally,

of the Greek emperors, Constantine Porphyrogenitus and Michael Ducas,

and of the Hungarian king Geyza, with inscriptions. With regard to

the upper crown no doubt whatever is entertained as to its being the

one sent by Pope Sylvester, and concerning the lower crown Hungarian

historians state that it was sent, about 1073, by the Greek emperor,

Michael Ducas, to the Hungarian duke, Geyza, as a mark of gratitude for

the good services rendered to him by the latter. The exact date when

the two crowns united cannot be ascertained. This minute description of