Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
THE STRANGE STORY OF RAB RABY
DR. MAURUS JOKAI'S
MORE FAMOUS WORKS
(Authorised Translations).
LIBRARY EDITION.
6/- each.
Black Diamonds.
The Green Book; or, Freedom Under the Snow.
Pretty Michal.
The Lion of Janina; or, The Last Days of the Janissaries.
An Hungarian Nabob.
Dr. Dumany's Wife.
The Nameless Castle.
The Poor Plutocrats.
Debts of Honour.
Halil the Pedlar.
The Day of Wrath.
Eyes Like the Sea.
'Midst the Wild Carpathians.
The Slaves of the Padishah.
Tales from Jokai.
NEW POPULAR EDITION.
2/6 Net each.
The Yellow Rose.
Black Diamonds.
The Green Book; or, Freedom Under the Snow.
Pretty Michal.
The Day of Wrath.
LONDON: JARROLD & SONS.
[Illustration: portrait of Mor Jokai]
THE STRANGE STORY OF RAB RABY
BY MAURUS JOKAI
[Illustration: SANS PEUR ET SANS REPROCHE.]
THIRD EDITION
LONDON
JARROLD & SONS, 10 & 11, WARWICK LANE, E.C.
[All Rights Reserved.]
PREFACE
TO JOKAI'S "RAB RABY," IN ENGLISH,
By Dr. Emil Reich.
In "Rab Raby," the famous Hungarian novelist gives us, in a manner quite
his own, a picture of the "old regime" in Hungary in the times of
Emperor Joseph II., 1780-1790. The novel, as to its plot and principal
persons, is based on facts, and the then manners and institutions of
Hungary are faithfully reflected in the various scenes from private,
judicial, and political life as it developed under the erroneous policy
of Joseph II.
Briefly speaking, "Rab Raby" is the story of one of those frightful
miscarriages of justice which at all times cropped up under the
influence of political motives. In our own time we have seen the Dreyfus
case, another instance of appalling injustice set in motion for
political reasons. "Rab Raby" is thus very likely to give the English
reader a wrong idea of the backward and savage character of Hungarian
civilisation towards the end of the eighteenth century, unless he
carefully considers the peculiar circumstances of the case. I think I
can do the novel no better service than setting it in its right
historic frame, which Jokai, writing as he did for Hungarians, did not
feel induced to dwell upon.
The Hungarians, alone of all Continental nations, have a political
Constitution of their own, the origin of which goes back to an age prior
to Magna Charta in England. Outside Hungary, it is generally believed
that Hungary is a mere annex of "Austria"; and the average Englishman in
particular is much surprised to hear that "Austria" is considerably
smaller than Hungary. In fact, "Austria" is merely a conventional
phrase. There is no Austria, in technical language. What is
conventionally called Austria has in reality a much longer name by which
alone it is technically recognised to exist. This name is, "The
countries represented in the _Reichsrath_." On the other hand, there is,
conventionally and technically, a Hungary, which has no "home-rule"
whatever from Austria, any more than Australia has "home-rule" from
England. In fact, Hungary is the equal partner of Austria; and no
Austrian official whatever can officially perform the slightest function
in Hungary. The person whom the people of "Austria" call "Emperor," the
Hungarians accept only as their King. There is not even a common
citizenship between Hungarians and Austrians; and a Hungarian to be
fully recognised in Austria as, say a lawyer, must first acquire the
Austrian rights of naturalisation, just as an Englishman would.
The preceding remarks will enable the reader to see clearly that Hungary
never accepted, nor can ever accept Austrian rule in any shape
whatever; and that the entire business of political, judicial, and
administrative government in Hungary must legally be done by Hungarian
citizens only. The King alone happens to be an official in Austria as
well as in Hungary; but according to Hungarian constitutional law he
cannot command, nor reform things in Hungary except with the formal
consent of the Hungarian authorities, in Parliament and County. In
Austria indeed, the "Emperor" was, previous to 1867, quite autocratic;
and even at present he has a very large share of autocratic power.
Now, Emperor Joseph II. desired to melt down Hungarian and Austrian
manners, laws, and institutions into one homogeneous mass of a
Germanised body-politic. With this view he commanded the Hungarians to
practically give up their own language, their ancient national
constitution, and old County institutions, thinking as he did, that such
an unification of the Austro-Hungarian peoples would make the Danubian
Monarchy much more powerful and prosperous than it had ever been before.
He sincerely believed that his scheme of unification would greatly
benefit his peoples; nor did he doubt that they would readily obey his
behests to that effect.
However, the Emperor was quite mistaken as to the effect of his imperial
policy upon the Hungarians. Far from acquiescing in his plans, the
Hungarians at once showed fight in every possible form of passive
resistance, rebellion, scorn, or threats. To them their Constitution
was, as it still is, dearer by far than all material prosperity.
The Emperor's ordinances were coolly shelved, not even read, and with a
few exceptions, all his commands proved abortive. Many Hungarians
admitted then, as others do now, that Joseph's reforms were in more than
one respect such as to benefit Hungary. Yet no Hungarian wanted to
purchase these reforms at the expense of the hoary and holy Constitution
of the country. Joseph, in commanding all those reforms, without so much
as asking for the consent of the Estates, violated the very fundamental
principle of the Hungarian Constitution. This the Hungarians were
determined to resist to the uttermost. In the end they vanquished the
ruler, who shortly before his death withdrew nearly all his ordinances,
and so confessed himself beaten.
It is in the midst of these historic and psychological circumstances
that Jokai laid his fascinating novel. A young Hungarian nobleman,
indignant at the illegality and injustice of public officials of his
native town, who shamefully exploit the poor of the district, approaches
the Emperor with a view to get his authorisation for measures destined
to put an end to the criminal encroachments of the said officials. The
Emperor gives him that authority. But far from strengthening young
Raby's case, the Emperor thereby exposes him to the unforgiving rancour
of both guilty and innocent officials who desperately resent the
Emperor's unconstitutional procedure.
The novel is the story of the conflict between the young noble and the
Emperor on the one hand, and the wretched, but in the nature of the
case, more patriotic officials, on the other. As in all such cases,
where virtue appears either at the wrong time, or in the wrong shape,
the ruin of the virtuous is almost inevitable, while no student of human
nature can wholly condemn his otherwise corrupt and despicable enemies.
In that conflict lies both the charm of the novel and its tragic
character.
As in all his stories, Jokai fills each page with a novel interest, and
his inexhaustible good humour and exuberant powers of description throw
even over the dark scenes of the story something of the soothing light
of mellow hilarity.
EMIL REICH.
_London, Nov. 1st, 1909._
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I. 1
CHAPTER II. 6
CHAPTER III. 11
CHAPTER IV. 16
CHAPTER V. 27
CHAPTER VI. 37
CHAPTER VII. 46
CHAPTER VIII. 50
CHAPTER IX. 58
CHAPTER X. 64
CHAPTER XI. 70
CHAPTER XII. 82
CHAPTER XIII. 86
CHAPTER XIV. 96
CHAPTER XV. 104
CHAPTER XVI. 112
CHAPTER XVII. 130
CHAPTER XVIII. 141
CHAPTER XIX. 150
CHAPTER XX. 159
CHAPTER XXI. 173
CHAPTER XXII. 178
CHAPTER XXIII. 188
CHAPTER XXIV. 197
CHAPTER XXV. 204
CHAPTER XXVI. 219
CHAPTER XXVII. 224
CHAPTER XXVIII. 234
CHAPTER XXIX. 237
CHAPTER XXX. 249
CHAPTER XXXI. 255
CHAPTER XXXII. 259
CHAPTER XXXIII. 268
CHAPTER XXXIV. 278
CHAPTER XXXV. 286
CHAPTER XXXVI. 289
CHAPTER XXXVII. 296
CHAPTER XXXVIII. 301
CHAPTER XXXIX. 308
CHAPTER XL. 317
CHAPTER XLI. 324
CHAPTER XLII. 328
CHAPTER XLIII. 335
CHAPTER XLIV. 339
CHAPTER XLV. 345
CHAPTER XLVI. 349
CHAPTER XLVII. 352
CHAPTER XLVIII. 357
CHAPTER XLIX. 360
CHAPTER L. 364
INTRODUCTION.
Now it is not because the double name of "Rab Raby" is merely a pretty
bit of alliteration that the author chose it for the title of his story,
but rather because the hero of it was, according to contemporary
witnesses of his doings, named Raby, and in consequence of these same
doings, earned the epithet "Rab" ("culprit"). How he deserved the
appellation will be duly shown in what follows.
A hundred years ago, there was no such thing as a lawyer, in the modern
sense, in the city of Buda-Pesth. Attorneys indeed there were, of all
sorts, but a lawyer who was at the public service was not to be found,
and when a country cousin came to town, to look for someone who should
"lie for money," he sought in vain.
Why this demand for lawyers could not be supplied in Buda-Pesth a
hundred years back may best be explained by briefly describing the two
cities at that epoch.
For two cities they really were, with their respective jurisdictions.
The Austrian magistrate persistently called Pesth "Old Buda," and the
Rascian city of Buda itself, "Pesth," but the Hungarians recognised
"Pestinum Antiqua" as Pesth, and for them, Buda was "the new city."
Pesth itself reaches from the Hatvan to the Waitz Gate. Where Hungary
Street now stretches was then to be seen the remains of the old city
wall, under which still nestled a few mud dwellings. The ancient Turkish
cemetery, to-day displaced by the National Theatre, was yet standing,
and further out still, lay kitchen gardens. On the other side, at the
end of what is now Franz-Deak Street, on the banks of the Danube, stood
the massive Rondell bastion, wherein, as a first sign of civilisation, a
theatrical company had pitched its abode, though, needless to say, it
was an Austrian one. At that epoch, it was prohibited by statute to
elect an Hungarian magistrate, and the law allowed no Hungarians but
tailors and boot-makers to be householders.
Of the Leopold City, there was at that time no trace, and the spot where
now the Bank stands, was then the haunt of wild-ducks. Where Franz-Deak
Street now stretches, ran a marshy dyke, which was surmounted by a
rampart of mud. In the Joseph quarter only was there any sign of
planning out the area of building-plots and streets; to be sure, the
rough outline of the Theresa city was just beginning to show itself in a
cluster of houses huddled closely together, and the narrow street which
they were then building was called "The Jewry." In this same street, and
in this only, was it permitted to the Jews, on one day every week, by an
order of the magistrate, to expose for sale those articles which
remained in their possession as forfeited pledges. Within the city they
were not allowed to have shops, and when outside the Jews' quarter, they
were obliged to don a red mantle, with a yellow lappet attached, and any
Jew who failed to wear this distinctive garb was fined four deniers.
There was little scope for trade. Merchants, shop-keepers and brokers
bought and sold for ready-money only; no one might incur debt save in
pawning; and if the customer failed to pay up, the pledge was forfeited.
Thus there was no call for legal aid. If the citizens had a quarrel,
they carried their difference to the magistrate to be adjusted, and both
parties had to be satisfied with his decision, no counsel being
necessary. Affairs of honour and criminal cases however were referred to
the exchequer, with a principal attorney and a vice-attorney for the
prosecution and for the defence.
At that time, there was in what is now Grenadier Street, a
single-storied house opposite the "hop-garden." This house was the
County Assembly House whence the provincial jurisdiction was exercised.
It had been the Austrian barracks, till finally, Maria Theresa promoted
it to the dignity of a law-court, and caused a huge double eagle with
the Hungarian escutcheon in the middle, to be painted thereon; from
which time, no soldier dare set foot in its precincts. Here it was only
permitted to the civilians and the prisoners confined there to enter.
Only the part of the building which faced east was then standing: this
wing comprised the officials' rooms and the subterranean dungeons.
The magnates carried on their petty local dissensions, aided by their
own legal wisdom alone, yet every Hungarian nobleman was an expert in
jurisprudence in his own fashion. There were even women who had proved
themselves quite adepts in arranging legal difficulties. The Hungarian
constitution allowed the right to the magnate who did not wish the law
to take its course, of forcibly staying its execution, and the same
prerogative was extended to a woman land-owner. The commonweal also
demanded that each one should strive to make as rapid an end as possible
to lawsuits. Long legal processes were adjusted so that there should be
time for the judge as well as the contending parties to look after
building and harvest operations, as well as the vintage and pig-killing.
On these occasions lawsuits would be laid aside so as not to interfere
with such important business.
But if the tax-paying peasant was at variance with his fellow-toiler,
the local magistrate, and the lord of the manor, were arbitrators. So
here likewise there was no room for a lawyer.
But when the peasant had ground of complaint against his betters, he had
none to take his part. There was, however, one man willing to fill the
breach, although he had been up to this time little noticed, and that
man was Rab Raby--or to give him his full title of honour, "Mathias Raby
of Raba and Mura."
He it was who was the first to realise the ambition of becoming on his
own account the people's lawyer in the city of Pesth--and this without
local suffrages or the active support of powerful patrons--but only at
the humble entreaty of those whose individual complaints are unheard,
but in unison, become as the noise of thunder.
The representative of this new profession did Raby aim at being. It was
for this men called him "Rab Raby," though he had, as we shall see, to
expiate his boldness most bitterly.
In what follows, the reader will find for the most part, a true history
of eighteenth century Pesth. It will be worth his while to read it, in
order to understand how the world wagged in the days when there was no
lawyer in Pesth and Buda. Moreover, it will perhaps reconcile him to the
fact that we have so many of them to-day!
CHAPTER I.
They sit, the worshipful government authorities of Pesth, at the
ink-bespattered green table in the council room of the Assembly House,
the president himself in the chair; close beside him, the prefect, whom
his neighbour, the "overseer of granaries," was doing his best to
confuse by his talking. On his left is an empty chair, beside which sits
the auditor, busy sketching hussars with a red pencil on the back of a
bill. Opposite is the official tax-collector whose neck is already quite
stiff with looking up at the clock to see how far it is from
dinner-time. The rest of the party are consequential officials who
divide their time between discussing fine distinctions in Latinity, and
cutting toothpicks for the approaching mid-day meal.
The eighth seat, which remains empty, is destined for the magistrate.
But empty it won't be for long.
And indeed it is not empty because its owner is too lazy to fill it, but
because he is on official affairs intent in the actual court room,
whereof the door stands ajar, so that although he cannot hear all that
is going forward, he can have a voice in the discussion when the vote is
taken.
From the court itself rises a malodorous steam from the damp sheepskin
cloaks, the reek of dirty boots and the pungent fumes of garlic--a
combined stench so thick that you could have cut it with a knife.
Peasants there are too there in plenty, Magyars, Rascians, and Swabians:
all of whom must get their "viginti solidos," otherwise their "twenty
strokes with the lash."
For to-day is the fourth session of the local court of criminal appeal.
On this day, the serious cases are taken first, and after the
death-sentences have been passed, come a succession of lesser peasant
offenders for judgment.
Some have broken open granaries, others have been guilty of assaults,
but there are three main groups. To one of these belong the settlers
from Izbegh who have been convicted of gathering wood in the forests of
the nobles. The second section embraces those culprits who were artful
enough during the vintage to cover the ripe grapes over with earth, (so
that the magnates should be cheated out of their tithes), and to evade
the heydukes who kept watch and ward over the vintagers. Thirdly, there
were the offenders who had formed a deputation to the chancery court,
and dared to pray for a revision of the public accounts for the past
twenty-five years, a request at once temerarious and stupid, for
twenty-five years is a long time--long enough indeed for accounts to
become rotten and worm-eaten. But that they were in sufficiently good
order, the revenue for this particular year, 1783, testified, seeing it
amounted to sixty thousand gulden, of which six thousand were paid to
the ground landlord, and two thousand towards the internal expenses of
the province, with a balance in hand of fifty-two thousand gulden--not
an extravagant outlay, surely!
But what remains for the peasant?
Why just those twenty strokes with the lash. These solve the question of
"plus" and "minus."
The presiding judge, Mr. Peter Petray, only records his vote through the
door, but he himself is doing his official part, for from the window of
the adjoining room he superintends the sentences carried out in the
improvised court below. There are the prisoners in the dock on whom the
vials of justice are being poured forth. They are by no means a
contemptible study either for the psychologist or the ethnographer. The
Rascians are the defaulters against the vintage rights, and loudly they
shriek and curse as the blows are administered, whilst the outragers of
the forestry laws are mostly Swabians, who take advantage of the pauses
between the lashes roundly to abuse the overseer. But there are many
other delinquents besides in that motley crowd, who simply clench their
teeth and await their chastisement.
But the eye of the law must itself watch over the execution of judgment,
so that nothing in the shape of an understanding between the heyduke
and the culprit, tending to mollify the punishment, may be arrived at.
Much depends on how the blows are laid on. Not only does the sentence
provide that the due number of lashes may be fulfilled, but likewise
that the strokes should be heavy. It is for this that the judge, if he
sees the heyduke falter in his work, urges him on to harder blows, by
calling out "Fortius!"
But Judge Petray knows how to combine duty and pleasure. For Fraulein
Fruzsinka, the niece of the prefect, is also in the room, and their
whispered confidences and languishing glances show that the judge and
the young lady have not met here to discuss simply official questions.
Whilst the notary in the next room is reading the indictment in a loud
enough tone for Petray to be able to follow him, this dignitary manages
to interpolate various interesting "asides" to his companion amid the
fire of cross questions, and only calls out his vote when asked for it.
Only the prefect cannot just now leave his post as assessor, and it is
impossible for him to see all that goes on. In the pauses therefore
between the blows, the flirtation between these two goes on merrily.
It was just then that Fraulein Fruzsinka whispered something to her
lover.
"Willingly," he answers, "but while I do it the Fraulein must take my
place at the window, and count the strokes in my stead."
"And remember the heyduke's name is 'Fortius,'" added the judge to his
representative.
Fraulein Fruzsinka leaned out of the window still laughing heartily, and
began to count as if she were noting a scale of music. The culprit,
seeing a girl's smiling face looking down on him, appealed to her for
mercy. And the young lady, who was by no means hard-hearted, called out
to the heyduke: "Don't beat the poor fellow so pitilessly, Fortius." But
that official only flogged all the harder.
At the twelfth stroke, Petray came back and slipped something into the
hand of the girl as she leaned out of the window.
This something she pressed to her lips as she withdrew again behind the
curtain, hiding it in the great locket she wore on her breast. The judge
counted on.
Now it was the turn of a gipsy band, six of whose number had stolen a
goose, and were to receive half a dozen lashes apiece in consequence.
Later on they will provide the music at dinner, at the command of their
prosecutors: "Now we fiddle to you, then you will play to us!"
Fraulein Fruzsinka, with a parting hand-clasp, hastens away to see to
the setting of the table, for the silver and glass and table-linen are
her special care. The judge raised her hand to his lips as she left.