The story of Hungary 12

The story of Hungary 12

The royal court was the centre and faithful mirror of that kingly

power, and, in its ordering and conduct, Stephen was careful to imitate

foreign courts, not only in their main features, but at times even in

their most minute details. The court of his imperial brother-in-law,

Henry II. of Germany, especially, served him as a model. Thus it

was held that the person of the king was sacred, and that to offend

against him who was the embodiment of the majesty of the state, was

looked upon as a crime to be punished with loss of life and fortune.

The king stood above all the living, and above the law itself. Stephen

surrounded himself with the distinguished men, lay and ecclesiastical,

of the realm, and, aided by their counsel, administered the affairs

of the country, but his word and will was a law to everybody. Amongst

the officers of his court were a lord-palatine, a court-judge, a lord

of the treasury, and many others, who, in part, assisted him in the

government of the state and, in part, ministered to the comforts of the

court. At a much later period only, after the lapse of centuries, did

the offices of palatine, judge, and treasurer, become dignities of the

realm.

 

The government of the country in time of peace involved no great care

or trouble, for only the royal domains or counties and the royal

cities possessing privileges fell within the sphere of the direct power

of the king and court. The Church and nobility governed themselves and

applied to the king in cases of appeal only, the royal towns conducted

their affairs through the agency of judges and chief magistrates

elected by themselves, whilst the bulk of the people, composed of the

various classes of bondmen and servants, were completely subjected to

the authority and jurisdiction of the lords of the land. The bondman

might move about freely, but he could never emancipate himself from the

tutelage of the landlords. The Hungarian nation was composed of the

same social strata which were to be met with everywhere in the West,

and the growth of these pursued the same direction, differing, however,

in one particular—the relation of the large landed proprietors, the

nobility, to their king. To these exceptional relations must be

attributed the fact that the political changes in the country did

not run in parallel grooves with those of the other western states.

Stephen granted no constitution, all complete, to his people; its

growth was the work of centuries, but the country was indebted to him

for having organized the state in such a manner that, whilst there was

nothing in the way of a free and healthy development of its political

institutions, its inherent strength was such that it could successfully

resist the many and severe shocks to which in the course of nearly a

thousand years it was subjected.

 

The country prospered during the long reign of King Stephen, thanks to

his untiring labors and to the rare moderation with which he tempered

his passionate zeal. The nation became gradually familiar with the

changes wrought, and began to accept the new order of things, although

it could not quite forget the old ways. Old memories revived again and

again, and those especially who bowed down before the crown and cross

from compulsion and not from conviction, were filled with anxiety as

to the uncertain future. Stephen thoroughly understood the feelings

and prejudices of his people, and he carefully avoided every act,

and steered clear of every complication which might tend to rouse

their passions. He well knew that time alone could give permanence

and stability to the institutions created by him, and that years of

peace and continued exertions were necessary to consolidate his work.

Two great objects, therefore, occupied his mind continually, even in

his old age; in the first place, to defend the realm against external

dangers, and in the second place, to raise a successor to himself to

whom he might safely entrust the continuation of the work commenced by

him.

 

But fate denied him the accomplishment of either of his objects. As

long as Henry II., his brother-in-law, reigned there was peace between

Hungary and the German empire, but the death of the latter in 1024

severed the bond of amity between the two countries. The feelings

entertained by Conrad II. toward the kingdom of Hungary were very

different from those manifested by his predecessor, and this change of

sentiment was soon shown by Conrad’s laying claim, by virtue of his

imperial prerogative, to the sovereignty over Stephen’s realm. Conrad,

with his ally, the Duke of Bohemia, and the united forces of his vast

empire, began war in 1030, and overran with his armies the country on

both banks of the Danube, as far as the Gran and the Raab. Stephen was

undismayed, his courage rather rose with the perils environing him. He

bade the people throughout the land to fast and pray, for not alone his

kingdom was at stake, but the independence of the Hungarian Church was

menaced by the imperial forces. Those who looked with indifference at

the cause of the Hungarian crown and the cross, had their enthusiasm

excited by the proud satisfaction of fighting in defence of the

national dignity and liberty. Amongst those western nations who had

been for so long a time harassed by the military expeditions of the

Hungarians, the German people, feeling its strength, was the first to

turn its arms against the former assailants. But Conrad’s attack proved

unsuccessful against the united strength of the king and the nation,

between whom the peril from without had restored full harmony, and he

was compelled to leave the country in the autumn of the very year in

which he entered upon the war, dejectedly returning to Germany after

a campaign of utter failure instead of the expected triumphs. Peace

was concluded in the following year, and the emperor acknowledged the

independence of the young but powerful kingdom. Conrad’s son, who

subsequently succeeded to the imperial throne as Henry III., visited

Stephen at his court, in order to draw closer the ties of amity

between the two countries. The danger had passed for the time being,

but the apprehensions of Stephen were far from being allayed as he

pondered on the future. The peace just concluded did not satisfy him;

there were no guaranties for its preservation, nor had he any faith in

its being a permanent peace, for he well knew that the German kings,

as long as they wore the imperial crown, would not fail to repeat

their attacks on the independence of the young kingdom. Reflections of

this sombre nature often filled his soul with despondency, and then

came occasions when he entertained fears that the nation might not be

strong enough to withstand the dangers threatening her, or that if she

triumphed she would, in the intoxication of her victory, turn with

exasperation against those innovations which had brought the foreign

foes upon her.

 

All his hopes centred in Duke Emeric, his only son, who, under the

care of the pious Bishop Gerhard, grew up to be a fine youth, full

of promise, in whom his fond father discovered all those qualities

which he wished him to possess for the good of his nation. The young

prince was, indeed, very zealous in his faith; his piety amounted

almost to frenzy, and he turned away from the world, despising its

joys and harassing struggles, and seeking the salvation of his soul

in self-denial and the mortification of his flesh. He was, in truth,

the holy child of a holy parent, but not born to rule as the fit son

of a great king. He preferred the cloister to the royal throne, and,

far from inheriting the apostolic virtues of his august father, he

was rather inclined to indulge in the errors of the age he lived in.

But the aged king, dazzled by the lustre of his son’s holiness, was

blind to his shortcomings. He had faith in him, for in him he saw

his only hope. In order fitly to prepare him for his future royal

mission, he set down for him in writing the experiences of his long

and beneficent rule, and the wisdom and goodness treasured up in his

heart and mind. These admonitions addressed to his son have been spared

by all-devouring time, and to this day they are apt to delight and

instruct us as one of the most precious relics of that age. The reader

will surely be pleased with a few specimens of these exhortations:

 

“I cannot refrain, my beloved son,” Stephen wrote, “from giving thee

advice, instruction, and commands whereby to guide thyself and thy

subjects. * * * Strive to obey sedulously the injunctions of thy

father, for if thou despisest these thou lovest neither God nor man. Be

therefore dutiful, my son; thou hast been brought up amidst delights

and treasures, and knowest nothing of the arduous labors of war and the

perils of hostile invasions by foreign nations, in the midst of which

nearly my whole life has been passed. The time has arrived to leave

behind thee those pillows of luxuriousness which are apt to render thee

weak and frivolous, to make thee waste thy virtues, and to nourish in

thee thy sins. Harden thy soul in order that thy mind may attentively

listen to my counsels.”

 

After enlarging in ten paragraphs upon the topic of his counsels, he

proceeds as follows: “I command, counsel, and advise thee, above all,

to preserve carefully the apostolic and Catholic faith if thou wishest

thy kingly crown to be held in respect, and to set such an example to

thy subjects that the clergy may justly call thee a Christian man, * *

* for he who does not adorn his faith with good deeds—the one being a

dead thing without the others—cannot rule in honor.”

 

Stephen then lays down rules of conduct towards the magnates of the

realm, the lay lords, the high dignitaries, and the warriors, as

follows: “They are, my dear son, thy fathers and thy brothers, neither

call them nor make them thy servents. Let them combat for thee,

but not serve thee. Rule over them peaceably, humbly, and gently,

without anger, pride, and envy, bearing in mind that all men are

equal, that nothing exalts more than humility, nor is there any thing

more degrading than pride and envy. If thou wilt be peaceable, every

one will love thee and call thee a brave king, but if thou wilt be

irritable, overbearing, and envious, and look down upon the lords, the

might of the warriors will weaken thy kingly state, and thou wilt lose

thy realm. Govern them with thy virtues, so that, inspired by love for

thee, they may adhere to thy royal dignity.”

 

He then recommends, above all, patience and careful inquiry in the

administration of justice in these words: “Whenever a capital cause or

other cause of great importance be brought before thee for judgment, be

not impatient, nor indulge in oaths beforehand that the accused shall

be brought to punishment. Do not hasten to pronounce judgment thyself,

lest thy royal dignity be impaired thereby, but leave the cause rather

in the hands of the regular judges. Fear the functions of a judge, and

even the name of a judge, and rather rejoice in being and having the

name of a righteous king. Patient kings rule, impatient ones oppress.

If, however, there be a cause which it is fit for thee to decide, judge

mercifully and patiently to the enhancement of the praise and glory of

thy crown.”

 

Speaking of the foreigners settled in the country, he says: “The Roman

empire owed its growth, and its rulers their glory and power, chiefly

to the numerous wise and noble men who gathered within its boundaries

from every quarter of th