The preceding chapter gave an account of the varying fortunes of that part of Hungary which, although geographically appertaining to the domains of the crown of St. Stephen, was virtually occupied and ruled by the Turks, and this account was brought down to the time when the country succeeded in shaking off the foreign yoke. The thrilling episodes of that sad era deserved a place by themselves. Yet in describing these tragic events but little was said of the kings of the ruling dynasty and the destinies of that portion of the country which remained subject to their rule, or so much only was touched upon in a general way as was absolutely necessary for a proper understanding of the occurrences related there. This hiatus will now be supplied, by resuming, in a succinct form, the historical narrative of the events following the disastrous battle of MohÁcs.

We have already seen that at no time was the Turkish power so strong as during the first half of the sixteenth century, and that Hungary was never so weak as after the death of Matthias Hunyadi. The innovations of Matthias had broken down the ancient military organization, which recruited its armies from the ranks of the nobility and the armed bands in their train, and established in its place a standing army. But on the death of the genius which had called it into existence, the standing army also disappeared. We have described elsewhere the sad fate of his valiant “black guard.” The disastrous reverses at Belgrade and MohÁcs were the consequence, and it became evident that Hungary, single-handed, could not withstand the power of the Osmanlis.

Under these circumstances the nation was compelled to look for assistance from abroad, and, in searching for a powerful alliance, it was quite natural that public attention should be drawn to the house of Hapsburg, the great authority and influence of which gave the fairest promise of effectual support to the prostrate country. This dynasty occupied at that time a front rank amongst the reigning families; its rule extended over Austria, Germany, the wealthy Netherlands, Spain, with her American colonies and dependencies, Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia—an immense domain, of which it might have been then truly said that “the sun never set in it.” No dynasty, since the CÆsars, had controlled the destinies of so many nations and of so vast a territory. Ferdinand, a scion of that influential dynasty, who at this time was also elected king of Bohemia, owed his elevation to the throne of Hungary to hopes and arguments of this kind. He gave the people assurances of support on the part of his family; he vowed to respect the rights and liberties of the nation, and promised to live in the country and to confide the conduct of her affairs to Hungarians only.

Every thing turned out quite differently from what the royal electors had hoped and expected. The Turks were decidedly averse to any augmentation of the power of the Hapsburgs by the acquisition of the Hungarian throne. They desired to see Hungary under a separate king of her own, and to accomplish this the Turks shrank from no sacrifices, and succeeded in embroiling the unfortunate country in continual wars. Unhappy Hungary was placed between the hammer and the anvil. The Turks were unwilling to yield, and the Hapsburgs, quite as reluctant to give up the country, were, nevertheless, unable to defend it. The result of the cruel war, waged for over thirty years, was, in the end, that Hungary was torn into three parts. The heart of the land, the AlfÖld, was seized by the Turks; the hilly plateau of Transylvania was ruled by native princes, acknowledging the suzerainty of the sultan; and the remaining portion only, the northern and western part, owned the supremacy of the Hapsburgs in their capacity of kings of Hungary. Thus the new dynasty, so far from proving a protection to the country, rather led to its dismemberment.

The condition of Transylvania was, comparatively speaking, more favorable than that of either of the two other sections of the country. She had to pay her tribute to the Turks, but beyond that she experienced no interference on the part of her paramount lord. She was allowed to elect her own rulers, to convene her national assemblies, to keep up an army of her own, and to live as before under the ancient laws of Hungary. The AlfÖld, in the hands of the Turks, was governed in Turkish fashion. The Turks never settled down in the country they conquered; they only garrisoned it, as it were. The government and the spahis were the new landlords, and their chief care was, not to watch over the welfare of the people, but to fleece them and to extort from them heavy taxes and all sorts of vexatious imposts. The effects of such an administration became soon visible. The ancient culture perished, the population gradually decreased, and the once fertile soil relapsed into barrenness.

Nor were the complaints fewer and less bitter in the western and northern parts, ruled by the Hapsburg kings of Hungary. The hope of obtaining, through these kings, aid from the West gradually vanished. The nation, besides, was quick to perceive that Hungary was looked upon by the Hapsburgs as an unimportant province, rather than an independent country. The king did not reside in Hungary, but in Vienna, which was the permanent seat of his government, and all the remonstrances coming from the various diets against this state of things led only to bare promises. There were numerous grievances besides. After the first vacancy in the dignity of a palatine no other palatine had been appointed, German advisers alone were listened to in affairs concerning Hungary, the country was flooded with German officials and soldiers, and distinguished Hungarian magnates were thrown into prison without due form of law. These evils were already felt under Ferdinand, the first Hapsburg king, but they still increased under his successor, King Maximilian (1564-1576). The latter proceeded quite openly in his anti-national policy. He promised Germany for himself and his successors, in return for her aid, to use every endeavor to bring about the annexation of Hungary to that country. The Diet of 1567, in enumerating the many abuses of the government, bitterly inveighed against the foreign soldiery, charging them with arbitrarily raising tolls, taking the thirtieth part, imposing unlawful taxes on the communes, wasting the substance of the peasantry and robbing them of their last penny, and, finally, selling their children into slavery to the Turks. The Diet declared that, “There is no salvation, no hope for us; we have no other alternative but to leave our native land and emigrate to foreign parts.”

These complaints remained unheeded by Maximilian, nor was his son and successor, Rudolph (1576-1608), more disposed to remedy the ills complained of. The office of the palatine still remained vacant; the affairs of Hungary were administered, without consulting the Hungarians, by a court cabinet and a military council. Rudolph’s reply to the remonstrances of the Estates of the realm, that “these things have been in practice long since,” was certainly a cynical apology for the continuance of abuses. Thus was the continual infringement of the law claimed to have become a law in itself, and independent Hungary became virtually subject to the authority of foreigners. The temper of the diets which met during the first years of Rudolph’s reign clearly indicated the state of irritation produced by the king’s presumptuous treatment of the liberties of the nation; the exasperated Estates spoke of refusing to vote subsidies, and some of them, although in the minority, threatened even to join either Poland or Turkey. Rudolph, wearied with these boisterous scenes, turned his back upon the country, and the nation did not see her king for twenty-five years.

The country was compelled patiently to suffer the encroachments on her ancient rights, for to no quarter could she look for help. Alone she was too weak to right herself, and the only alliances that offered themselves were either the German or Turkish. A sad alternative, indeed, for the Turks on the one hand never ceased to harass and devastate the country, threatening even to absorb the territory yet free, and the Germans on the other utterly ignored the constitution and liberties of Hungary, although the kings on their election and coronation always swore to respect and to defend both. The Turks were extirpating the nation, whilst the Germans were trying to rob her of her Hungarian nationality. The Germans, being considered the lesser evil, carried the day, and hopes were besides entertained that, after all, Germany would finally rid the country of the Turks. These hopes were further encouraged after the death of Solyman (1566), when it became apparent that the Turkish power was declining from day to day. But the country was doomed to disappointment, for the Viennese government, instead of arraying itself against Turkey, was on the eve of trying the patience of her people again with measures and acts hostile to their nationality.

The great obstacle to the Germanizing schemes had always been the Hungarian Diet and the stiffnecked independence of the nobles composing it. It was impossible for the government to do away with the diet as it had done away with the dignity of palatine and the other exalted Hungarian offices, as the grant of taxes and soldiers required in an emergency depended upon the good will of the diet. If there was no diet in session, no supplies of money and soldiers could be voted. The government therefore determined to resort to measures which would bend the majority of the diet to its will. The royal free cities had at that time the privilege of sending members to the diet of Hungary to represent them. But the influence at the diet of these municipalities, of whom there were but few, and most of these with German inhabitants, was very slight. A great number of private boroughs were made by the government royal free cities, and an attempt was made to use the new members sent by these constituencies as a counterpoise to the hostile nobles in the diet. But the nobility loudly protested against this innovation. Some of those who protested were charged with treason, but, unable to obtain their conviction before a Hungarian tribunal, the government had them brought to Vienna before a military council, which pronounced them guilty of the charge against them. One of the victims of these illegal proceedings, a certain IlleshÁzy, a wealthy magnate, saved his life by flight only. His immense estates were confiscated, and an inquiry into his case fully proved that the cruel sentence passed upon him was not meant so much to punish his supposed crime, as it was intended to be a means of getting possession of his vast property. But the persecutions of the government did not stop there; the turn of the Protestants soon came. Thus was one of the captains ordered to take away by violence from the Protestants the cathedral at Kassa, and to hand it over to the Catholics. The city authorities of Kassa recaptured the church, but it was taken from them again by force, and the city was mulcted by the government in a heavy fine of money. This outrage might well excite indignation at a time when three fourths of the population of Hungary were Protestants. It became evident that the German influence was bent upon attacking the people in their liberties as well as their religion, and whilst the government was yet inclined to show some indulgence to the Catholics, it was determined to show no kind of mercy to the Protestants of the country.

The excitement and indignation of the people, throughout the whole land, at these lawless proceedings, were reflected in the temper of the Diet which met in 1604. They protested against the illegal persecutions, stood up for the freedom of worship, and warned the government not to stir up dissensions amongst the followers of the antagonistic churches. A fresh injury, however, was added to those complained of, by Rudolph’s arbitrarily supplementing the 21st article enacted by the Diet with a 22d article, in which the Diet was enjoined from discussing religious topics; intimations were thrown out at the same time that heresy was to be persecuted.

This 22d article was the spark which set ablaze all the inflammable material that had accumulated in the country since the time that the Hapsburgs had occupied the throne of Hungary. The North of Hungary, allied with Transylvania, rose in arms, and the entire Upper Country was soon gathering in the camp of Stephen Bocskay, the prince of Transylvania. The Turks favored the insurrection and proclaimed Bocskay king of Hungary, bestowing upon him, at the same time, a crown of gold. The insurgents aimed at the entire overthrow of the Hapsburgs, but the politic Bocskay opposed this, being disinclined to deliver up the whole of Hungary to the tender mercies of the Osmanlis. Bocskay saw in the Germans a counterpoise to the overweaning power of the Turks and counselled a policy of conciliation. The result of his counsels was the peace of Vienna, concluded in 1606, in which the abuses complained of were remedied, and constitutional government and freedom of worship were guaranteed for all time to come.

Remarkable as were the results of Bocskay’s rising, they were quite eclipsed by the effects of the astute policy inaugurated by him as the ruler of Transylvania, a policy which he bequeathed to his princely successors, enjoining upon them in his last will always to adhere to it. It consisted in maintaining, at all hazards, the independence of Transylvania, in order to enable her, according to the necessities of the moment, either to combine with the Turks in defence of the Hungarian nationality against the encroachments of Germanism, or joining the Germans to keep, with their aid, the Turks out of the remaining Hungarian territory. This course, marked by rare political acumen and inspired by the purest patriotism, was effectively aided by the mutual jealousies of the Turks and Germans, and enabled the Transylvanian princes ultimately to achieve their noble aim of saving the liberties of Hungary, their common country.

The terms of the peace of Vienna were soon forgotten by the Viennese government, and its proselyting Catholicism brought it again into collision with the Hungarian Protestants. The successor of Rudolph, Matthias (1608-1619), succeeded in restraining to some extent the outbreaks of hatred by which the various sectaries were animated, but hardly had the succession to the throne of Bohemia been secured to his cousin Ferdinand (II.), who had been brought up by the Jesuits, and was their zealous pupil, than the Czech Protestants took up arms, severed their connection with the Hapsburgs, and inaugurated the religious war which raged in Germany for thirty years, and which stands in history unexampled for its horrors (1618).

This movement could not leave Hungary indifferent. In Hungary, too, Romanizing was being strenuously carried on. The Jesuits gained a foothold in the country, and bringing with them their schools, books, and well-organized machinery they soon succeeded, under the patronage of the government of Vienna, in supplanting the Protestants. Peter PÁzmÁny, who, from a simple Jesuit, had risen to the primacy of Hungary, was the life and soul of the proselyting movement. He brought to the work of Romanizing the country an irresistible eloquence, invincible arguments in his writings, and unsurpassed religious zeal. All the great powers of his mastermind, and the resources of his enormous wealth were employed by him to add to the Catholic fold. By his own personal influence alone, thirty of the most conspicuous Hungarian families returned to the Catholic faith of their ancestors, families among whom some owned domains larger than a dozen of the smaller principalities of Germany. Protestantism gradually lost ground, its followers became a minority in the Diet, and the Catholics became daily more arrogant. Under these circumstances the Protestants of Hungary (where in 1618 Ferdinand was elected king, to succeed on the death of Matthias) could not look on with unconcern when their Czech brethren rose in arms nor could they permit their defeat by the Catholic court, for such an event was sure to hasten the moment when they, in their turn, would have to resist the violent measures of coercion practiced now against the Czechs.

They therefore joined the Czechs and took up arms for the defence of their liberties, for freedom of worship was with the nation closely interwoven with the cause of constitutional liberty. Gabriel Bethlen, who had become prince of Transylvania in 1613, stood at the head of the movement. On his first appearance on the scene of action, Bethlen is thus spoken of by a Frenchman in a report to his own government: “Bethlen is a distinguished soldier who has taken part, in person, in forty-three engagements; he is a man of wise judgment and great eloquence * * * in short, the great Henry IV. excepted, there is no king like him in the world.” The high expectations entertained of his abilities were not disappointed. The whole Upper Country as far as Presburg passed into his hands during the first year of the rebellion, and in 1620 he obtained possession of the greatest part of the territory beyond the Danube. But while he was carrying on hostilities with such signal success, the Czechs were completely routed by Tilly near Prague, and this defeat cost Bohemia her independence. Bethlen, being left without allies, hastened to make terms with the Viennese government, and the result was the Treaty of Nikolsburg, concluded in the beginning of 1622, based upon the peace of Vienna.

Bethlen, perceiving, with his wonted judgment, that the dissensions among the Protestants of Germany augured nothing favorable for the future, endeavored to enter into amicable relations with the court of Vienna. He used every means to prevail upon it to abandon the persecution of the Protestants, and to unite with him in a common war against the Turks, in order to drive them from Hungary. But the court was not disposed to listen to his overtures, and seemed to consider it a matter of greater importance to accomplish the destruction of Protestantism than to free the country from the Turks. Bethlen, seeing that all attempts in this direction were doomed to failure, returned to the old policy of the Transylvania princes. His political connections reached as far as France, England, and Sweden, and, upon the breaking out of the Danish war (1625), he again began armed hostilities, which, however, although crowned with victory, gave way to a new treaty of peace, owing to the defeat of Bethlen’s allies in Germany. When Gustavus Adolphus made his appearance in the West, achieving victories for Protestantism, the great Transylvanian prince was no more amongst the living; he died in 1629. Bethlen was, no doubt, one of the most conspicuous figures in the history of Hungary. Through his exertions little Transylvania moved, in politics, abreast of the most powerful European nations, and under him she became rich, powerful, and greatly advanced in culture, and a strong prop to the rest of the Hungarian nation. His premature death deprived the country of the advantages which he certainly would have drawn from the triumphs of Gustavus Adolphus.

Toward the close of the Thirty Years’ War, the prince of Transylvania, George RÁkÓczy I., took advantage of the distressed position of Ferdinand III. of Hapsburg (who had succeeded his father, Ferdinand II., on his thrones in 1637) to strike a successful blow for the liberties of Hungary. The beginning of the reign of the successor of Ferdinand III., Leopold I. (1657-1705), witnessed the downfall of Transylvania’s power.

This event disturbed the balance of power between the Turks and Germans, and alone was sufficient to bring about the great changes which soon took place in the affairs of Hungary. In order to account for the overthrow of the power of Transylvania, it must be remembered that both the Turks and Germans had for a long time back looked askance at the strength and influence of this little principality. They were filled with apprehensions of having their Hungarian territories gradually absorbed by Transylvania, and there was an agreement between these two powers, to the effect that she should not be allowed to add to her territory. It is impossible to suppose that the then ruler of Transylvania, George RÁkÓczy II., had no information of this secret treaty, but he apparently paid no heed to it, or entertained no fears as to its effects. He quietly continued to extend his power, and for that purpose entered into an alliance with the Swedish king for the partition of Poland. In vain did the Viennese court oppose this aggressive course, in vain did the Turks command him to desist from it; the Transylvanian prince crossed the Carpathians, with a gallant army, in 1657. The allied forces of Sweden and Transylvania were everywhere victorious, and the power of Transylvania stood higher than ever. It was at this conjuncture that Leopold I., who had succeeded Ferdinand III., inaugurated, at once, a warlike policy, parting with the peaceable traditions of his predecessors. Leopold divided the attention of RÁkÓczy’s Swedish ally by setting on him his ancient enemies, the Danes, and sent his own armies into those Hungarian domains belonging to RÁkÓczy, which the Transylvanian princes had extorted from the Hapsburgs, in the treaties of Vienna and Nikolsburg, and on other similar occasions. Nor were the Turks behindhand in co-operating with the Hapsburgs. A Tartar army was sent into Poland against RÁkÓczy, and he himself was deposed from his princely office as a punishment for his disobedience. RÁkÓczy, thus left to fight his own battles, without an ally, and hemmed in by Turks, Germans, and Tartars, suffered defeat on every side, the flower of his army fell into the hands of the Tartars, and it was only by paying a large sum that he obtained peace from Poland. When he returned to Transylvania in August, 1657, with the wreck of his army, the principality was involved in utter financial and military ruin.

The Turks, however, did not pause here; they wished to get the whole of Transylvania into their possession. Twice the unhappy country was devastated by Tartar hordes, and the inhabitants repeatedly carried away into slavery by thousands; a prince was given to her at the dictation of the Turks, and part of her territory actually passed under direct Turkish rule (1662). The hearts of the patriotic Hungarians bled at this cruel sight, and they appealed to and incessantly urged their king to interfere, and not to allow the principality to perish. Leopold I. turned a deaf ear to these appeals; he was not inclined to venture on a war with Turkey, on behalf of Transylvania, and was, at best, careful to get his share of the common plunder. It was a gloomy outlook for the Hungarian nation; the Turks, on the one hand, oppressing her with their formidable forces, and their own king languidly looking on.

The Turkish successes in Transylvania only served to whet the Moslem appetite for further conquests. In 1663 the Turks attacked Leopold without any warning, and obtained possession of the region of the Upper Danube, and of the lower valley of the VÁg. This was a great blow to Hungary, for the conquered territory was thrust like a wedge into the semicircular national territory, dividing it again into two new parts. Although an imperial army was sent to meet the Turkish forces, no efforts were made to stay the continual advances of the latter as long as they were on Hungarian territory, but as soon as they neared the Austrian frontier they were opposed by the imperial forces. This imperial army achieved at St. Gotthard, near the Raab, a brilliant victory over the Turks.

This victory gave fresh courage to the despondent Hungarians. They now hoped that the war would be successfully pushed forward, and would end only with the liberation of their country, and the less sanguine expected at least a peace which would restore to the possession of the king of Hungary, Transylvania, and all the other territories obtained by the Turks since 1657. A sad disappointment, however, fell upon the country. The peace concluded by the victorious government left in the possession of the Turks all the territory they had previously taken, thus virtually leaving the country in her former maimed condition.

This disgraceful peace which had been concluded by the court of Vienna without consulting the Hungarians, at last shook even the faith of those Catholic Hungarians who, until now, had been the unconditional adherents of the Hapsburgs. They had, heretofore, acquiesced in the forlorn condition of their country, being persuaded that the Viennese government lacked the ability of rescuing her, but recent events showed them that it was lack of good will on the part of the government which was precipitating the ruin of the country. It became the universal conviction that the Hapsburgs would gladly see the country in the hands of the foreign invader, in order to enable them, by reconquering her anew, to do away with the uncomfortable trammels of the national constitution. Leopold did not heed the general discontent; he pursued the great aim he had proposed to himself, of uniting, after the illustrious example of Louis XIV., all the dependencies of his dynasty into one homogeneous empire. Things had come to such a pass in Hungary that the most inveterate enemies of Turkey openly counselled amity with the Turks, declaring that they preferred paying a tribute to the latter rather than to see the country go to ruin by the Germanizing machinations of the Viennese court.

The general discontent soon budded into a conspiracy in which, this time, not only the Protestants, but chiefly the Catholic population took part, who were now quite as eager to rid themselves of the Germans. The heads of the conspiracy were all Catholics. Their leader was WesselÉnyi, the palatine of the realm and the king’s representative, and affiliated with him in the leadership were the largest landlords in the country: Peter Zrinyi, NÁdasdy, Francis RÁkÓczy, and FrangepÁn. Their aim was to rid the country of the Germans by the aid of the Turks, or, if possible, of the French. The conspiracy, however, failed. WesselÉnyi died, and the plot was betrayed to the government before it had ripened into the intended rising. Leopold, without loss of time, swooped down upon the principal conspirators. Zrinyi, NÁdasdy, and FrangepÁn were seized, and without being given the benefit of the laws of their country, were decapitated. Their immense estates were confiscated, and RÁkÓczy himself could only save his life and obtain mercy by paying a ruinous ransom (1671). The government, however, was not satisfied with the cruel punishment of the ringleaders alone; it deemed this a propitious time for the introduction of various oppressive measures. Without convoking the Diet, a land and corn tax was imposed upon the country, excise duties were introduced, and a poll tax levied on every inhabitant, including the nobles. The land was swarming with a foreign soldiery brought there to restrain the rebellious Hungarians. The government added injury to insult; not satisfied with insulting the nation by entirely ignoring its constitution, and keeping down the national aspirations by quartering foreign garrisons in national territory, it raised illegal taxes wherewith to pay the armed oppressors. The government at Vienna threw off its mask at last; the Hungarian constitution was abolished, and Hungary reduced to the condition of a province of Austria (1673).

Whilst the government thus succeeded in subverting the constitution of the country, it showed no less activity and success in the prosecution of its other aim, the Romanizing of the people. There was no law to protect those professing the new faith; they could be oppressed with impunity; their churches were taken away from them; hundreds of their ministers and teachers were sentenced by the tribunal to slavery on the galleys, or were sent adrift by private persecutions. It was an open secret that the king himself was eager to exterminate the last heretic, and just as the oath of the king to protect the constitution had been forgotten, so were the various treaties of peace, guaranteeing the freedom of worship, doomed to oblivion, as soon as there was no Transylvanian prince to recall them to royal memory by force of arms.

And yet it was Transylvania, in her weakened condition, that now came to the assistance of Hungary, which had become a prey to Austrian rapacity. Many of those who were compelled to fly from the persecutions of the sanguinary policy of the government sought and found a refuge in Transylvania, and they were continually urging Apaffy, the prince of Transylvania, and the Turks to intercede with arms in behalf of the Hungarian cause. The Viennese government assailed Stambul with letters requesting the sultan not to allow Transylvania to be the place of refuge of certain “thieves,” but to no purpose. The Porte, indeed, so far from favorably receiving these epistles, secretly promised aid against the Austrians. A fresh insurrection broke out in 1672. The refugees flocked into the Upper Country and inaugurated a warfare which, for cruelty and mercilessness, stands alone in the history of Hungary. The era of this contest, commencing in 1672, and covering a period of nearly ten years, is called the Kurucz-Labancz era. This aimless and purposeless struggle was kept up between the Kuruczes (insurgents) and Labanczes (Austrians), within the limits of the territory lying between KomÁrom and Transylvania, and there was no end of the horrors the contestants were guilty of in the course of their hostilities against each other. To cut tobacco on the enemy’s bare back, or to cut strips from his quivering skin, to drive thorns or iron spikes under the finger-nails, to bury him in the ground up to his head and then fire at him, to skin him alive, to put a stake through him,—in a word, to perpetrate tortures at which humanity shudders, these were the every-day courtesies exchanged between the two belligerents. The combatants of that day respected neither God nor man; they acknowledged only one guide for their actions: a bitter and undying hatred of all that called itself Labancz. They were the misguided creatures of a period during which the insane policy of the government had robbed the people both of their religion and their teachers.

The ruling powers had thus conjured up days of terror, but were utterly inadequate to the task of terminating them. Indeed after several years of this schemeless struggle, the rebellion became at last organized and conscious of a fixed object. The rebels received aid from the French and from the Porte, and Transylvania, as a state, was ready to make common cause with her countrymen. TÖkÖlyi, a magnate of the Upper Country, a youth only twenty-one years old, but of eminent abilities, placed himself at the head of the rebels, and, now in 1678, began the war in good earnest. The rebels soon became masters of the Upper Country, and the government which had been unable to cope with the headless Kuruczes, proved quite helpless against the organized rebellion, led by an able chief. Austria was, besides, continually harassed by Louis XIV. in the west, and, to add to her difficulties, it was rumored that the Turks were preparing to invade Hungary with an immense army, which, uniting with the forces of TÖkÖlyi, should drive the Austrians from the country.

The government, thus driven to the wall, surrendered. Negotiations soon began, the Diet was convoked in 1681, and constitutional government and freedom of worship were restored with a show of great alacrity. The concessions came too late. The rebels had no faith in the government after the cruel deceptions of which it had been guilty, and placed no trust in promises wrung from its necessitous condition. They refused to submit, and TÖkÖlyi was proclaimed by the Porte king of Hungary. The threatened Turkish invasion became also in 1683 a fact. At this moment Hungary seemed to be lost forever to the Hapsburgs; the whole country sided with the Turks, the territory beyond the Danube also acknowledging the authority of TÖkÖlyi.

The destinies of Hungary, nay of all Eastern Europe, hung upon the fate of besieged Vienna. The siege of Vienna was raised through the victory of Sobieski the Polish king; and the rapidly succeeding victories of the Christian armies, already referred to in the preceding chapter, awakened the hopes of the Hungarian nation, and showed that, at last, the emperor-king concerned himself in the liberation from Turkish rule of Hungarian territory. The decisive victories of Prince Eugene of Savoy finally accomplished this, and the Turks henceforth gave up all hopes of reconquering Hungary.

The liberation of the Hungarian soil, however important in itself, proved no immediate panacea for the ills of which the country had to complain. Even while the struggle was going on, many things happened which pointed to troubles in the future. The Hungarian inhabitants along the course of the Danube were rudely interrogated by the soldiers of the imperial army of liberation as to what faith they professed, and if they were found to adhere to the new tenets they were mercilessly set adrift. In the Upper Country a certain Caraffa, the military commandant of that district, committed acts of the most cruel atrocity. This bloody monster pretended to have discovered a conspiracy, and obtained from the government, which was disposed to suspect the loyalty of the Hungarians, full powers to deal with it and to put it down. Caraffa made a terrible use of his commission. He made wholesale arrests of the suspected and loyal alike, threw into prison men of high standing against whom he had a personal grudge, and rich people whose property he coveted, and extorted from them by dreadful tortures the confession of crimes they had never committed. These unfortunates were then executed upon the strength of their confessions. This bloody tribunal of Eperjes, of ill-fame, which inspired horror all over the land, continued its malevolent functions until the first months of 1687, when it was abolished, through the intercession of the Diet which had just been convoked. This Diet, however, was in most of its work not at all anxious to hamper the government. On the contrary, it displayed a pliability which made it forget the true interests of the country. Thus it substituted for the ancient right of the nation to elect their kings, the hereditary right of succession in the male branch of the Hapsburg dynasty, and it was this Diet that relinquished the time-honored right of the people, guaranteed by the Golden Bull, to resist with arms any illegal acts of the king, without incurring the penalty of treason for so doing. There were some malicious critics who pretended that this unpatriotic legislation was due to the pressure of imperial guns pointed at the place in which the Diet met. At all events the servile spirit exhibited by the Diet gave color to the apprehensions of those Hungarians who were of one mind with TÖkÖlyi, that Hungary must be irretrievably ruined if she passed under the authority of the Austrians.

As the Turkish wars were drawing to an end, more melancholy portents began to darken the horizon. Hungary was reorganized by the government at Vienna without the Hungarians being consulted. Transylvania remained a separate “grand duchy,” and the district beyond the Drave was formed into a separate province, and all this was done from the fear lest united Hungary might become too strong to suit Austria’s schemes. A large portion of the recovered territory was distributed amongst German landowners, the southern portion of the AlfÖld was colonized by Servians, and in other parts of the land, especially in the cities, the settlement of German-speaking people was encouraged, for the purpose of tempering the hot blood of the rebellious Hungarians. The fortified castles scattered throughout the whole country, the property of private owners, were blown up by the hundred, without the consent of their proprietors, lest in case of a fresh rising these strongholds should be used as centres of a factious spirit.

The Protestants were not allowed to settle in the reconquered districts. In other places the freedom of their worship was interfered with, the churches were taken from them, their ministers driven away, and if any one, appealing to his constitutional rights, had the courage to resist these illegalities, he was thrown into prison. In a word, regular dragonnades, as they flourished in France under Louis XIV., now became the order of the day.

The government imposed upon the people such oppressive and burdensome taxes that it almost seemed as if it dreaded the prosperity of the country. If the people complained of the heavy burdens, they were instigated against the nobles, whose exemption from taxation was pointed out as the only cause of the heavy burdens. The country was again flooded by a foreign soldiery, whose chief business consisted in robbing and plundering, the common soldiers oppressing the common people, and the officers the nobility. The honor and the property of the people were at the mercy of these brutal troops, and those who complained of such outrages found themselves always in the wrong. This forlorn condition is reflected in many of the plaintive popular songs of that period, but there was no means of remedying these evils crying throughout the land, for no Diet had been convoked since 1687. The aim of the Viennese government became daily more evident, to put the Austrian rule in the place of the Turkish, and to ignore altogether the Hungarian national aspirations. The nation herself seemed to the government too much enfeebled and trodden down to give any ground for apprehending any resistance in defence of her rights, but to make assurance doubly sure every effort was made to crush the national spirit.

Yet the nation could not brook oppression, she could not be kept quiet, deprived of constitutional government, and as soon as she had found again a leader in Francis RÁkÓczy II., she rose in arms. The new leader was the bearer of a great name. His ancestors had been princes of Transylvania. He himself was the grandson of that George RÁkÓczy II., who in 1657 invaded Poland, and subsequently lost his life fighting against the Turks in defence of his country and his throne. His father Francis had taken part in the WesselÉnyi conspiracy, and escaped the scaffold only at the cost of an immense ransom. His maternal grandfather, Peter Zrinyi, met with his death on the scaffold, and his only great-uncle perished in prison in spite of his innocence. His stepfather, TÖkÖlyi, together with his own mother, Ilona Zrinyi, ate the bitter bread of exile in Turkey. He and his sister were, in their early youth, torn from their parents, and their education entrusted to Germans. In Vienna he was subjected to many humiliations, and as he grew up he left that city and retired to one of his estates, intending to pass his life peacefully near his wife. He was averse to action, and the bloody shades of his family seemed vainly to beckon to him, who alone bore yet the famous name and was the master of immense possessions, to follow in their footsteps.

But all this was changed as soon as he came to Hungary. He could not bear to witness the wrongs perpetrated about him, and he could not move a step without becoming aware that the nation expected from him, the descendant of a line of heroes, their salvation. Meanwhile the Spanish war of succession had broken out in 1701, and very soon all Europe was involved in it. This appeared to RÁkÓczy to be a propitious time for the reconquering of the liberties of the people, and, aided by the French king, he hoisted in 1703 the flag of the rebellion, bearing the inscription “pro patria et libertate,” for the fatherland and liberty.

The sages at Vienna would not at first credit the news of the rising of the people; they had long ago made up their minds that such an event was impossible. But when the movement spread like wildfire throughout the Upper Country, Transylvania, and ultimately all Hungary, and the great majority of the nation unsheathed the sword, they became frightened, and resorted to—negotiations and fresh promises. The rebels were inclined to cease hostilities provided their liberties were secured. But mere words did not satisfy them now, having been taught by sad experience the futility of royal words, oaths, and solemn treaties of peace, and they therefore endeavored to obtain more substantial guaranties from the government. They exacted the independence of Transylvania, under a Hungarian prince and the guaranty of the European powers. To these propositions the government neither would nor could accede, while the rebels insisted upon their first proposals, declaring that it was impossible for them to have any faith in Austrian or—as it was popularly termed—in German promises. This universal sentiment of distrust, pervading the nation, is admirably reflected in a popular song, to which that period gave birth, and of which we subjoin a translation:

These overtures failed to lead to peace, and the struggle continued throughout the land, giving up to ruin what had been left intact by the Turkish slavery of a century and a half and the sixteen years’ war of liberation. The government was unable either to quell or to crush the rebellion, standing in need of all its strength for the struggle in the west. At this conjuncture Leopold I. descended into his grave in 1705, and his well-intentioned son, Joseph I., succeeded to the throne (1705-1711).

Joseph sincerely wished for peace, and, convinced of the mistakes of the policy of his father, he did all in his power to allay the apprehensions of the rebels, but his constitutional sentiment failed to efface the baneful effects of his predecessor’s misgovernment and duplicity. Nor was it possible for him, either, to accept the terms of the rebels, and thus it came to pass that the dynasty of Hapsburg was dethroned in Hungary, during the reign of this upright monarch, in 1707. This was a great mistake on the part of the rebels, but Joseph had now the advantage of being able to show his respect for the liberties of the nation, under the most adverse circumstances, and he thus, by slow degrees, won the confidence of the people. The French had, meanwhile, been thoroughly defeated, and Joseph was thus enabled to oppose larger forces to the rebels, while the latter could not secure aid from any quarter. The rebels, exhausted with the protracted struggle, met with repeated defeats, and, to add to their distress, the black plague made its appearance and fearfully thinned the ranks of their troops. The king, however, did not abuse his increasing power. He granted an amnesty to all, without exception, who were willing to return to their allegiance; he governed constitutionally, remedied the ills inflicted upon the country by his predecessors, and finally placed a Hungarian commander-in-chief at the head of the army. His earnest and sincere endeavors were at last rewarded by peace. The issue of the various negotiations was the compact of SzatmÁr, concluded in 1711, by the terms of which a general amnesty was granted, and constitutional and religious liberty secured.

This peace was a grateful conclusion to the sad days which had been weighing down Hungary for two hundred years, a period during which both Turks and Austrians were compassing the ruin of the country. The former were perpetually threatening her territorial integrity; the latter, her political liberties, and the nationality to which those liberties were closely wedded. By dint of rare courage, an undying love of liberty, and acute statesmanship, they succeeded in preserving both their territory and their liberties. The sad events of those two centuries had put the endurance and energies of the nation to the severest test, but, in the end, she triumphantly passed through the cruel ordeal.

A new era now dawned in the history of Hungary. Wars no more threatened the territory of the country, and her liberties and nationality were no longer exposed to stubborn violence. Yet the dangers to her national life were not yet quite removed, for what the sword and brute force had been unable to accomplish during the preceding centuries, the eighteenth century attempted to achieve peaceably by means of the Western civilization.

Charles III. (Charles VI. as Emperor of Germany), the brother and successor of Joseph, inaugurated this new policy, and his daughter, Maria Theresa (1740-1780), continued to pursue, during her long reign, with great success, the course traced by her royal father. The protracted wars, whilst laying waste the country and reducing her population, had also retarded her culture, and it became now necessary to find means to remedy both evils. Attempts were made to supply the lack of population by colonizing. The AlfÖld, the special home of the Hungarian race, was particularly depopulated, and there we see the work of establishing new settlements most zealously carried on during the whole century. The Slavs from the Upper Country, the Servians from the South, and multitudes of German-speaking peoples from the West, soon spread over the great plain, and the numerous villages of the last could be met with at every step. The government was especially solicitous in promoting German colonization, partly because these settlers were industrious, and partly because this course favored the Germanization of the country. But soon the Hungarians, who had been crowded back into the hilly regions of the country, returned to their beloved AlfÖld, and for a while a regular hand-to-hand fight ensued between them and the strangers for the possession of the broad acres of the fertile plain. Hardly one generation passed and all those motley populations became Magyarized, and proudly proclaimed themselves to be members of the Hungarian community. Only there where the foreign element had settled in compact masses, they remained strangers still, but the national encroachment on their borders went constantly on. In connection with the colonization was also carried on the work of draining the swamps and improving the soil, and we see the population day by day increasing in numbers and wealth.

Great changes, too, were effected in the country by means of legislation. Successive Diets endeavored to remedy the many palpable defects, and it may be said that the tribunals existing up to 1848 originated in the time of Charles III. At this period, also, was introduced the system of a standing army and with it that of permanent taxation. Both soldiers and taxes are still granted by the Diet, yet, not for special emergencies only, as they arise, but until the next Diet is convoked. About this time the relations between Hungary and the Austrian provinces were more clearly defined by the Pragmatic Sanction of 1723. By it Hungary and the Austrian provinces were declared inseparable, and the ruler of both was always to be one and the same person from the Hapsburg dynasty, in the regular order of succession in the male and female lines; but, otherwise, Hungary was to remain perfectly independent, and was to be governed by her own laws.

The nation was offered an opportunity to prove by her alacrity in complying with the wishes of Charles in regard to a change in the order of the dynastic succession, that his kind feelings towards the country were fully reciprocated by the trustfulness of the people. The right of succession was thus extended to the female line too of those very Hapsburgs, whose dynasty the nation, not many years before, had declared to have altogether forfeited their right to the throne. The country was soon called upon at Maria Theresa’s accession to the throne to prove by deeds its attachment and gratitude. The young queen was attacked by all Europe, the enemy being eager to rob her of the fairest portions of her Austrian possessions. In this extreme danger she appealed to chivalrous Hungary for protection, and the nation, forgetting the old quarrels, exclaimed with one voice: “Vitam et sanguinem! moriamur pro rege nostro Maria Theresia!” Eighty thousand soldiers went into the war to meet the queen’s enemies, who were anxious to divide the spoils of the empire, and during a combat of eight years the Hungarians, whilst defending their Pragmatic Sanction, upheld, at the same time, the integrity of the Austrian possessions. The dynasty had thus won in Hungary, by a spirit of conciliation, a country upon which it could count as a trusty support in case of danger from without.

Maria Theresa showed herself grateful for the sacrifices and devotion of the nation. The district of Temes, which had been retaken from the Turks by her father, was re-annexed to the kingdom of Hungary, and it was Maria Theresa who gave Hungary the city of Fiume, in order that the country might have a seaport town to promote her commerce and industry. A great deal, too, was done by her, in many ways, to improve the material condition of the country, and still more for the advancement of higher culture through the erection of churches and the foundation and organization of schools. In a word, she always remained, to her end, the “gracious queen” of the nation.

A great social revolution had also taken place during the reigns of Charles and Maria Theresa. The magnates of the country deserted in the piping times of peace their eagle’s nests on the rocky crests of the hills and descended into the smiling valleys below, building there palaces for themselves after foreign patterns. Life in those rural abodes, owing to the lack of pastimes and refinement, soon became dull to the great lords, and, as there was no national capital to offer distraction, they went abroad, and soon came to like the foreign mode of life better than the lawlessness of their country homes. The Viennese court bade them welcome, overwhelmed them with distinctions, and Maria Theresa, especially, understood the art of fascinating them. Gradually they became foreigners in their dress and manners, and all the Hungarian that was still preserved by these absentees was their names and the estates they possessed in Hungary, the revenues of which they spent abroad. The atmosphere and the graces of court life succeeded in doing what the sword and violence had failed to accomplish. The great lords became estranged from their country and thoroughly Germanized.

If the great noblemen alone had still the exclusive charge of defending the independence and nationality of Hungary as they had done in days of old, then indeed these blessed days of peace would have brought ruin on both. It was fortunate, however, for the country that there was still left the gentry, numbering hundreds of thousands, who, after the peace of 1711, went on in their lives as before, and concerned themselves, in their old way, with the national affairs; the counties, where self-government reigned supreme, being the scene of their action. This class of nobles did not go abroad, nor was it possible to subject any large numbers of them to the fascinations of Viennese court life. They remained at home, retained their Hungarian customs and manners, their national language and dress, and with these it was impossible to make them part. Their counties were so many bulwarks of their nationality and the independence of Hungary, and these numerous seats of self-government furnished the counterpoise to the Germanizing influences of the court, which were thus destined, as far as the nation as a whole was concerned, to come to naught in times of peace, as they had failed before when coercion was employed.