The story of Hungary 14

The story of Hungary 14

The double cross shone out again triumphantly, but the crown was still

menaced by danger. After the defeat of paganism the Emperor Henry III.

sent envoys to Andrew, asking satisfaction for the cruelties inflicted

upon Peter and calling upon the king to renew the oath of fealty to

the emperor of Germany. Andrew felt that unless he maintained the

independence of the country, and the dignity of the crown, he incurred

the risk of losing the throne itself. He therefore rejected Henry’s

claims and prepared for the defence of the country. At the same time

he summoned home his brother Béla (Adalbert) who, during his exile

in Poland, had won high distinction as a soldier, and had obtained,

as a reward for his military services, the hand of a daughter of

Miecislas. Andrew himself was in ill-health, and he did not care to

face the brewing storm single-handed. He wanted to have at his side the

powerful arm of his brave and mighty brother, whose very appearance

was sufficient to inspire the distressed nation with confidence and

hope. He gave Béla one third of the realm, and, being childless,

promised him the crown after his decease. Neither Andrew nor the nation

were disappointed in Duke Béla, who was believed by the people to be

irresistible. It was in vain that Henry III. collected the entire

armed force of the empire, and three times in succession (1049-1052)

threw this force upon Hungary. In each campaign Duke Béla succeeded in

dealing deadly blows upon the invaders. His triumph was so complete

that the emperor was compelled to solemnly proclaim peace, again

acknowledging the independence of the kingdom.

 

The nation was not permitted long to enjoy the peace following her

almost miraculous escape. Domestic dissensions took the place of the

dangers threatening from abroad, and this time the feuds did not

originate with the people, but with the royal family itself. All the

glory of the important results of the German wars, of the driving the

enemy from the country, and of her happy escape from the besetting

dangers, centred in the person of Duke Béla. The nation looked with

love and admiration upon the knightly form of their favorite, and his

popularity was so great that it quite overshadowed that of Andrew,

notwithstanding all his kingly power. Andrew’s feelings were deeply

hurt by the popularity of his brother, nor could he help being

terrified by it. But it was not his brother’s popularity alone which

troubled him. During the war a son had been born to Andrew, who was

christened Solomon. Andrew now repented of his promise to Béla. He

wished his infant son to succeed to the throne, and in order to insure

it to him, he caused Solomon to be crowned in spite of his tender

age. Not satisfied with this, but fearing that Béla, aggrieved by

these proceedings, might rise against Solomon at some future time,

he betrothed his little son to the daughter of the recently humbled

emperor, in order to secure for Solomon the powerful aid of the German

empire against Béla’s attacks. Every movement of Andrew was dictated

by fear, and he saw cause for trembling in every thing. What troubled

him most was that Béla had never breathed a word about his griefs or

wrongs. Andrew would often ask himself whether Béla was candid in his

apparent indifference, or whether, under the cover of this calm repose,

he was not concocting dangerous schemes against him and young Solomon.

He determined to put Béla’s candor to the proof. He had been ailing,

and made his feeble condition a pretext for inviting his brother to

the court. He received Béla with kindly words, confided to him his

misgivings, appealed to his generosity, and repeatedly assured him that

he did not intend to defraud him of his rights by the acts done in

favor of his son Solomon. Andrew concluded by saying that he left it

to Béla to decide whether he would rather succeed to the throne after

his own death, or be satisfied to remain at the side of young Solomon

as the military chief of the nation and the protector of the realm. The

old chronicles relate that Andrew, having finished his sweet speech,

caused to be placed before Béla the royal crown and a sword, calling

upon him to choose between the two. “I take the sword,” exclaimed Béla,

unable to conceal his indignation, “for if I coveted the crown, I could

always obtain it with the sword.”

 

The feud between the two brothers became henceforth irreconcilable. The

nation sided with Béla. The emperor spoken of before was dead, and a

boy occupied the German throne. Andrew had sent his queen and young son

some time before to the German court, and now he marched against Béla,

who was prepared to meet him. The two brothers confronted each other

near the Theiss, and Andrew lost both the battle and his life, whilst

Béla was on the field of battle proclaimed king of the realm.

 

Béla and his family occupy a conspicuous place in the history of the

first century of the Hungarian kingdom. He himself, two of his sons,

and one of his grandsons were destined to successfully defend the

country, to pacify the nation, and, pursuing the work of Stephen,

to complete the creations of that great king. They were all endowed

with eminent qualities befitting the great task allotted to them.

The heroism, devotion, and wisdom of the father descended to the

children, in whose character the inherited virtues shone out with

even a brighter and purer light. They were zealous guardians of their

kingdom and devout Christians, and they were wedded, heart and soul, to

their nation, which beheld in its kings with feelings of delight the

embodiment of its own best qualities. The imagination of the people

soars towards them after the lapse of so many centuries, and loves to

make their lofty forms the heroes of fabulous legends. Hence it is that

the events recorded of them in the pages of the chronicles are nearly

choked up by the ever-gorgeous poetical creations of the imagination of

the people.

 

The reign of Béla I. was short (1061-1063), but even during this brief

period he succeeded in rendering important services to his country.

While he was king paganism once more reared its crest under the lead

of James, son of the Vatha who had been put to death during Andrew’s

reign. James stirred up the multitude against Christianity and royalty,

but Béla nipped the rising in the bud. This last attempt of paganism

having failed, its power was completely broken, and it finally lost

entirely its hold upon the imagination and passions of the people. Some

there were yet who continued to resort secretly to the sacred places in

the groves, but their persecutors traced them even to these hallowed

spots, until, at last, the sacred fire burning on the secretly elevated

and visited altars was completely extinguished by the laws enacted

under Kings Ladislaus and Coloman. The imperial court of Germany made

strenuous efforts to place Solomon, whom it had received under its

protection, upon the throne of St. Stephen. Armies were collected and

marched against Hungary in the hope of being able at last to assert

the imperial supremacy over the kingdom which had been hitherto so

unsuccessfully proclaimed. The nation shrank from young Solomon, who

was badly brought up and frivolous, and in whom they saw only the

tool of the German power. The voice of the people designated amongst

Béla’s chivalrous sons either the righteous Geyza or the brave and pure

Ladislaus, as the princes best fitted for the crown.

 

These generous princes, however, desiring to save their country from

the calamities of an attack by the Germans, abdicated their power

in favor of young Solomon, and gave him a friendly reception on

his ascending the throne, stipulating only this, that their cousin

should leave them undisturbed in the possession of their paternal

inheritance, which comprised about one third of the realm. Solomon

(1063-1074) promised every thing and kept nothing. He was distrustful

of his cousins, perceiving that the nation idolized them, and bowed

down before him only from compulsion. It was in vain that his royal

kinsmen supported him with an unselfishness almost touching, and strove

hard to lend him the lustre of their own popularity in order to obtain

favor for him in the eyes of the nation. Solomon persisted in seeing

in them his rivals, from whose grasp his crown was not safe, and not

his brothers, the upholders and guardians of his royal power. The

foreign advisers poisoned the mind of the wavering and fickle king

against his young kinsmen, not because they doubted the unselfishness

of their devotion, but because his civil counsellors well knew that

the two brothers were sworn enemies of German expansion and supremacy.

The chronicles of the country abound in praise of the heroic deeds

performed by Solomon in conjunction with his cousins while he lived in

harmony with them, and in accounts of the intrigues which disturbed

that harmony, and finally led to their utter estrangement from each

other. The foreign counsellors of Solomon succeeded in working upon

his fears and jealousy to such an extent that they finally prevailed

upon the king to hire assassins to do away with Duke Geyza. The trap

was laid but the victim for whom it was destined succeeded in making

his escape. The feud of the fathers revived in their sons, and King

Solomon and the dukes Geyza and Ladislaus confronted each other in the

same hostile spirit in which their fathers, Andrew and Béla, had once

stood face to face. The question which the sword was to decide was not

merely whose should be the crown, but as to whether the German power

should become the master of the Hungarian kingdom, or not. Fate decided

against Solomon. He lost the battle of Mogyoród, and with it his

throne, and with his defeat vanished all hopes of establishing German

supremacy over Hungary.

 

The vacant throne was filled first by Geyza (1074-1077), and, after his

short reign, by his brother Ladislaus. Solomon escaped, and turned now

to his imperial brother-in-law, Henry IV., now again to the adversary

of the latter, Pope Gregory VII., for help, moving heaven and earth

to regain his lost throne. It was all in vain, the mischief was done

and could be remedied no more. The chroniclers delight in adorning the

story of the erratic life and repentance of the unfortunate youth. They

relate of him that, perceiving the utter failure of all his attempts,

he was filled with loathing against himself and the blind passions

which had made him the enemy and scourge of his country, retired from

the world, and became a hermit in order to atone for the faults of his

brief youth by doing penance during the remaining years of his life. A

cave on the shores of the Adriatic, near Pola, is pointed out to this

day, in which Solomon is supposed to have led the life of a hermit. The

chronicle adds that he lived to a high old age, became the benefactor

of the inhabitants of the vicinity, prayed for his nation, and that the

last wish of his departing soul was the happiness of his country.

 

Ladislaus (1077-1095), who succeeded his older brother Geyza, was

one of the noblest, most noteworthy of the kings of the royal line

of the Árpáds. He was great not only in the light of the important

achievements of his reign, but by his eminent personal qualities. His

character was a happy combination of strength without violence, of

wisdom without vacillation, of piety without fanaticism, and of lofty

majesty without pride. He was the hero, the model, and the idol of his

nation, which had never clung to any of its kings with more boundless

affection, greater devotion, and more respect. He identified himself

with the nation, drew strength from her affection for him, and rendered

her powerful in return. He gave the kingdom, founded by his illustrious

ancestor, a permanent peace, restored the faith in its strength, and

insured its development. He put an end to the era of attacks from the