The story of Hungary 15

The story of Hungary 15

“He was rich in love, abounding

in patience, cheerful in his graciousness, overflowing in the gifts of

grace, the promoter of justice, the patron of modesty, the guardian

of the deserted, and the helper of the poor and distressed. Divine

mercy raised him in the gifts of nature above the common worth of man,

for he was brave, strong of arm, and pleasant to the sight; his whole

appearance was marked by leonine strength and majesty; he was so tall

of stature that his shoulders were visible above those about him, and,

blessed with the fulness of divine gifts, his aspect proclaimed him

to have been created to be a king.” His mortal remains lie enshrined

in the cathedral of Grosswardein (Nagyvárad), which was built by his

munificence, and the piety of the nation has made of the place of his

burial a miracle-working resort for devout pilgrims. A pious tradition

has lived for centuries amongst the people, that whenever danger

menaces the country the king leaves his bed of stone and, followed

by the invisible hosts of his departed braves, combats against the

assailants of his country.

 

[Illustration: DUEL BETWEEN ST. LADISLAUS AND AKUS.]

 

Ladislaus was still living when the religious movement which took

the form of a holy warfare began to agitate the west of Europe—a

movement which was destined to maintain its hold upon the minds of the

inhabitants of the western world for two hundred years. According to a

tradition of the nation, Ladislaus was offered, as the most chivalrous

king, the chief command over the western Knights and crusading armies,

but was prevented by death from assuming the leadership. Most of the

crusaders went eastward by the valley of the Danube, passing through

Hungary, and the waves of the first expedition reached the country

during the reign of Coloman (1095-1114), the successor of Ladislaus. It

was fortunate for the country that a king like Coloman kept guard at

this time over her frontiers; a king who, although he may have lacked

the ideal qualities of his predecessor, possessed both the strength

and the courage to protect and defend the realm. Although he was well

aware that his attitude would provoke the anger of the popes and place

him in opposition to the public opinion of the whole Christian world,

he was not deterred from mercilessly driving away from the borders

of the country the first motley host of unruly and lawless crusaders

that approached them. The only crusaders to whom he gave a friendly

reception, permitting them to pass through the country, were the troops

of Godfrey of Bouillon, but even as to these, he exacted the most

rigorous security for their good behaviour. Coloman’s firmness alone

saved the country from being engulfed by the movement, and prevented

its domestic peace, which was not as yet firmly established, from being

disturbed.

 

But while he was thus guarding the interests of the country with a

watchful eye, an unmoved heart, and a strong arm, he still found time

and opportunity for increasing the territory of the realm. He completed

in Croatia the conquests begun by Ladislaus, and added to the new

acquisition Dalmatia, which he wrested from the grasp of the Venetian

republic. Coloman was the first Hungarian king who styled himself King

of Croatia and Dalmatia.

 

Coloman won the admiration of his contemporaries and posterity, not

merely as a leader of armies, but as a ruler whose great erudition and

wise laws served to perpetuate his memory. These qualities obtained

for him the epithet “_Könyves_” (bookish) or learned King Coloman.

The chronicles extol him for putting a stop by process of law to

the prosecution of witches, and for declaring in one of his laws:

“Of witches who do not exist at all no mention shall be made.” He

bestowed great care upon the administration of justice, and among his

laws occurs the following admirable direction given to the judges:

“Every thing must be so cautiously and anxiously weighed on the scale

of justice, that innocence, on the one hand, shall not be condemned

from hatred, and, on the other, sin shall not be protected through

friendship.”

 

The last years of Coloman’s reign were embittered by the ambition of

his brother Álmos, who coveted the throne. The energetic and erudite

king, who had spent his whole life in consolidating the glorious work

begun by Stephen, saw with a sorrowing heart how the restless ambition

of single individuals was uprooting the plants he had so carefully

nursed. Duke Álmos rose three times in rebellion against his royal

brother, nor did he reject, on these occasions, foreign aid. Coloman

defeated him each time, and pardoned him each time. But seeing that

the incorrigible duke could not be restrained by either his power or

his magnanimity, and that he was again collecting an army against him,

Coloman caused Álmos and his young son Béla to be thrown into prison,

where both were deprived of their sight. This dark and cruel deed, the

ferocity of which can be palliated only by the rudeness of the age, was

Coloman’s last act, and, in thinking of the retribution of the life to

come, it could not fail to disturb his peaceful descent into the grave.

 

The risings of Álmos initiated that period of civil strife which

continued for two hundred years, until the house of the Árpáds became

extinct, and which, on the one hand, afforded the Greek emperors an

opportunity to meddle with the affairs of the country, and to attempt

the extension of their supremacy over the kingdom; and, on the other

hand, undermined the authority of royalty, lifted the oligarchs into

power, and sapped the foundations of the institutions established by

Stephen.

 

Álmos, the blinded duke, planned again a rising against Coloman’s

son and successor, Stephen II. (1114-1131), but the plot having been

discovered he fled to the Greek court for protection and aid. The

Hungarian and Greek armies were already confronting each other on the

banks of the lower Danube, but the shedding of blood was prevented on

this occasion by the sudden death of Duke Álmos.

 

His son Béla II. (1131-1141), who had also been made blind, ascended

the throne after the death of Stephen II., but he gave no thought to

pacifying the restlessness of the people or to restoring peace to the

country. One feeling alone held the mastery over his soul, shrouded

in darkness—that of vindictiveness against those who had robbed him

and his father of the light of day. His revengeful feelings were

still more fanned by his masculine queen, Ilona, the daughter of the

prince of Servia, by whose advice he summoned the diet to meet in

Arad, on the southern confines of the country, for the sole purpose

of avenging himself on this occasion. The lords, anticipating no

evil, assembled in large numbers, although there were many among them

who might have had good reasons for dreading the king’s wrath. They

came, however, confiding in the forgiveness of Béla, which had been

publicly proclaimed by him. According to the information gleaned from

the chronicles, the diet was opened by Queen Ilona herself, who,

after describing in a passionate strain the sad fate of her blinded

husband, and inveighing against the crime of those who were the

causers of his affliction, herself gave the signal for the awful work

of vengeance. A dreadful struggle ensued between the adherents of the

king and those who had been singled out by the court as victims. Many

remained dead in the hall of the diet which had thus been changed into

a battle-field, but many others, who succeeded in escaping, took away

with their wounds feelings of undying hatred against their king. These

bloody proceedings gave the disaffected a fresh cause for placing their

hopes in the Greek court, and expecting from that quarter relief from

the tyranny which oppressed them.

 

But when open hostilities finally broke out between the two nations,

Béla II. was no more among the living. When the war commenced, Geyza

II. (1141-1161), the son of Béla, sat on the Hungarian throne,

which the Emperor Manuel, the most powerful of the Comneni, ruled

in Constantinople. The war was a protracted one, and its scene was

chiefly on the southern frontier, along the course of the Danube and

the country near the Save, but Manuel, with all his power and wariness,

was unable to obtain an advantage over the younger and more energetic

neighbor. After the death of Geyza, his son Stephen III. succeeded to

the throne. The Greek emperor refused to recognize him as the king

of Hungary, and attempted to place upon the throne as his vassals,

successively, the two brothers of Geyza who had found a refuge at his

court, but he did not succeed with either of the pretenders. One of his

protégés died young, while the other was driven from the country by the

lawfully elected king, Stephen III.

 

Manuel, seeing all his schemes overthrown, and perceiving that, as an

enemy, he had utterly failed, pretended now to feelings of friendship,

and offered peace to the Hungarians. As a further pledge of peace he

requested King Stephen III. to permit his brother Béla to reside with

him at Constantinople, promising that he would adopt him as his son

and heir. Manuel, having no sons to whom he might leave the imperial

throne, in all probability secretly cherished the hope that his adopted

son would at some future day succeed to the Greek throne, and would

also inherit the crown of St. Stephen, and that by this means the two

neighboring countries, which he did not succeed in uniting by force

of arms, would, in the course of time, become one. Fate, however,

seemed to have conspired to frustrate the best laid plans of the Greek

emperor. He carried Duke Béla with him to Constantinople, adopted him

as his son, declared him his heir, and every thing appeared to point

to a happy realization of his ambitious dreams, when unexpectedly a

son was born to him, an event which completely upset his calculations.

It became now impossible for Manuel to continue to keep the young

Hungarian duke at his court, unless, indeed, he wanted to raise a rival

to his own son; he, therefore, deprived him of all the distinctions he

had heaped upon him, and sent him hurriedly back to his native country,

where the throne had just become vacant by the death of Stephen III.

Manuel, however, made the young duke take a solemn oath before he

allowed him to depart that he would never attack the Greek empire, and

this empty formality was all that he was able to achieve in furtherance

of his scheme to impose his supremacy upon Hungary. The same duke,

however, who had been nurtured in the culture of Greece, and became

King of Hungary as Béla III., completely banished Greek influence from

the country, and secured its independence for a long time to come.

 

Béla III. (1173-1196) was one of the most powerful and respected rulers

of Hungary. He possessed great kingly qualities, and his character

commanded universal respect. He had a great deal to contend with, after

his return from Constantinople, before he succeeded in being firmly

seated on his throne. He was received with feelings of suspicion by

the powerful nobility, the chief dignitaries of the church, and by

the queen-mother herself, who all looked upon him as a partisan of

the eastern despotism, and as an enemy to the Roman Catholic Church,

and who were anxious to place his brother Geyza upon the throne. Béla

triumphed before long over all his enemies. He had his brother thrown