"I WASH MY HANDS!"
The Diet, summoned a few weeks before, was still holding its meetings in
the open air, with no better shelter than that afforded by a large open
tent. Akos Szirmay would be going thither presently, but it was still
early, and he was now on his way to his uncle's old mansion near the
Danube.
Though Kuthen was rather prisoner now than guest, he was still visited
by some of the Hungarian lords, and Bishop Wáncsa was often there with
messages from the King, saying how greatly he deplored the necessity for
still keeping him prisoner, and explaining that it was from no want of
confidence on his part, but rather for the ensurance of Kuthen's own
safety, adding that he was hoping and waiting for the time when he might
come in person and restore the King and his family to liberty.
Kuthen had loved and honoured Béla from the first, and though in this
matter he thought him weak, no one would have been able to persuade him
that Béla would consent to anything which would imperil his guest.
Akos had been a daily visitor at the house all along, and he made no
secret, either there or at his father's, of his attachment to Kuthen's
younger daughter, whose sweet face and winning ways had attracted him
from the first.
Stephen Szirmay did not like his son's choice, which was not to be
wondered at. Kuthen, it was true, possessed much treasure, and Marána
was his favourite child. But Jolánta's marriage had taught him that
wealth did not make happiness. Her marriage had had his eager, delighted
approval, as he was obliged to admit to himself; and as his judgment had
been at fault in the one case, he would not interfere in the other. It
would be wiser to remain neutral, lest ill-timed opposition should make
his son more determined.
Kuthen was up very early this morning; for news had reached him that
many of the Kunok who had remained behind in Moldavia were hastening to
Hungary, and being aware also that those already in the country were now
on their way to Pest, he was hourly expecting a summons from the King
for himself and his sons, and then they would fight, they would fight!
and for ever silence the jealous suspicions of their enemies.
Kuthen knew all that was going on about him, for he was well served by
his faithful followers, who were more devoted to him than ever since he
had been a sort of state prisoner; he knew that the Diet was sitting
that day, and that his best friends, the King and Duke Kálmán, would for
their own sakes do all they could to bring to an end the present
disgraceful state of affairs, which was only likely to increase the
slanders and suspicions of which he was the victim.
Kuthen knew also of the Duke of Austria's arrival, of his encounter with
the Mongols, and of the prisoner, said to be a Kun, whom he had so
unfortunately captured. Kun or not, the populace believed, and were
encouraged by the Duke to believe, that he was one. During the last few
hours the Duke had done his utmost to foment the growing irritation
against the King and his people.
Kuthen knew all, and though he hoped in King Béla, he neglected no
precautions to ensure the safety of his family, if the worst should come
to the worst. There were already more than a hundred Kunok in the
castle, chiefs and simple armed men, who had found means to join him, by
degrees, without attracting notice, all of whom were most resolute and
most trustworthy. Watch was kept day and night without intermission, and
of one thing Kuthen might be entirely confident, that if danger should
come, it would not take him by surprise, and that, if the mob should
rise against them--as he knew was not impossible--though they might
perish, they would at least not perish like cowards.
When Akos arrived on this particular morning, he was closeted alone
with the King for a time, and could not deny that things looked
threatening, or that the populace and most of the nobles were in a state
of irritation, thanks in great measure to the Duke of Austria and his
unlucky prisoner. All that he could do was to urge the need of prudence
and vigilance.
But before the young noble took his leave, something seemed to strike
Kuthen. Whether a new idea flashed into his mind, whether he had a
premonition of any kind, or whether he was merely filled with vague
forebodings, not unnatural under the circumstances, it is impossible to
say, but as Akos was about to make his farewells, Kuthen laid a
detaining hand upon his shoulder, and drew him into the adjoining room.
There he took his daughter Marána by the hand, and leading her up to
Akos, he said solemnly, "Children, man's life and future are in the
hands of God! We are living in serious times. See, Akos, I give you my
beloved daughter! Happen what may, you will answer to me for this, one
of my children."
"You have given me a treasure, you have made me rich indeed! God bless
you for it; and, father, have no fears on her account, for we will live
and die together," said Akos, with much emotion, his hand in that of his
bride.
The Queen's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the handsome young
pair, and drawing close to Akos, she whispered in his ear, "Mind,
whatever happens to the rest of us, my Marána must be saved."
Just then in came the two young Princes, who were always pleased to see
Akos, and were delighted, though not surprised, to hear of their
sister's betrothal.
"Oh, but brother Akos," they exclaimed together, as if they thought that
the new relationship must at once make a difference, "we should so like
to go with you to the Diet, but we are captives, and we have not wings
like the eagles."
"And, my dear brothers, even if you had," returned Akos, "I should
advise you not to leave your dear father for a moment just now."
"Oh, but why? why?" they both asked.
"Because I think that this is a critical time," he answered. "Let us
only get through the next day or two quietly, and I quite believe that
you will all be able to go in and out as you please."
"You are right, Akos," interposed the King. "Time may bring us good. Let
us wait and be watchful! And don't forget that I have given this dear
child into your care. Trust the rest of us to God, in whose hands is our
fate; we shall defend ourselves, if need be, but you think only of her.
Do you promise me?"
"I swear I will," said Akos, with uplifted hand.
Then he embraced his bride, who accompanied him to the covered entrance,
then followed him with her eyes all along the drawbridge, and after
that watched him from a window until he was quite out of sight.
Kuthen had already doubled the guards about his dwelling, and had taken
other precautions and measures of defence; but the walls were high, and
all had been done so quietly that it had not attracted the attention of
the sentries posted on the other side of the drawbridge. When Akos was
gone, he and his sons armed themselves as if for battle.
Sheaves of arrows were brought out and placed in readiness, the guards
were armed, and the Kun chiefs, who took it in turn to be on duty near
the King, made all needful preparation for an obstinate defence.
Akos had not been gone more than an hour or two, when little groups and
knots of people began to gather round Kuthen's house. There were three
or four here, and three or four there, and presently they might be
counted by the score. Later on a large crowd had collected. They were
talking quietly to one another, and seemed so far to be quite peaceable,
however.
The Kun royal family took no alarm, for they knew the Pest populace and
its insatiable curiosity well by this time, and they fancied that there
was perhaps some idea abroad that Kuthen and his sons would be going to
the Diet; or perhaps Marána's betrothal was known.
Another hour passed and the people began to shout and howl. Two persons
were declaiming to them; but within the walls it was impossible to
distinguish what they were saying. The crowd pressed nearer and nearer
to the drawbridge, so near indeed, that the guards on duty there had the
greatest difficulty in keeping them back, and a sudden rush of those in
the rear sent two or three of the foremost splashing into the moat, to
the huge diversion of the rest.
Presently, however, the mob appeared to be seized by a new idea, for
they all set off running in one direction; and in a few moments, only a
few small knots of people remained.
But these few lay down on the patches of grass round about, as if they
meant to stay indefinitely, and the Kun chiefs, who had been keeping
close watch behind the loop-holed walls, noticed that they were all
armed, some with knotty sticks and wooden clubs bristling with nails,
and a few here and there with bows and quivers. It looked as if they
meant mischief, and the Kunok were all on the alert for what might
happen.
Akos meantime had been for the last hour or two at the Diet. From where
he was he had a full view of the Danube, and after a time he noticed a
large crowd of people crossing the river by the ferry-boats and making
straight for the place where the Diet was being held. Both banks of the
Danube were thronged, and soon the crowd became a vast, compact mass;
but the first intimation of anything unusual that many of the members
had, was the finding the table at which they sat suddenly surrounded by
their own gaily caparisoned horses, which the crowd had found blocking
their way, and had driven before them into the tent.
It was a terrible moment! No one could imagine what had happened, and
some of the more nervous thought that the Tartars, whom they had taken
so lightly before, had actually stormed the town. All started to their
feet, seized the horses by their bridles, and drew their swords.
And now the howls of the furious mob were plainly to be heard.
"Kuthen! the Kunok! the traitors! Death to the Kunok!"
It was impossible to misunderstand what the mob were bent upon.
This was no peaceable, if clamorous deputation like the former one!
these were no faithful subjects rallying round the King in a moment of
danger, and seeking his counsel and help!
No! the flood had burst its bounds, carrying all before it, and had come
not to petition, but to claim, and to threaten.
The King motioned for silence. He was the calmest and most collected of
all present, and such was the magic influence of his presence, such the
respect felt for him, that even now, in spite of all the excitement, for
a moment the clamour seemed to cease.
Just then one of the nobles, a young man in brilliant armour, with
flashing eyes, seized the bridle of the horse nearest him, flung himself
on its back, dashed away, and looking neither behind nor before him,
forced his way recklessly through the mob. All who noticed him supposed
that he had received some command from the King, but the confusion was
so great that his departure was unobserved, except by those whose legs
were endangered by his horse's hoofs.
"The Kun King is a prisoner," said Béla in a trumpet-like voice, which
commanded attention at least for the moment. "No one in my dominions
will be condemned unheard. I forbid all violence, and I shall hold the
leaders of this insurgent multitude responsible."
So far the King was allowed to speak without interruption, or at least
without having his voice drowned. But after this, if he spoke, he could
not make himself heard. For no sooner did the magnates and others
assembled understand what all the uproar was about, than the King's
words lost their effect.
Members from the counties where the Kunok were settled, recalled the
many irregularities of which the latter had been guilty on their first
arrival, envied them their rich pastures, and joined the mob in crying
for vengeance upon them, and in shrieking "Treachery!"
There were but few on the King's side, save the two Archbishops, the
two Szirmays, one Foyács, and Héderváry the Palatine.
The mob surged into the tent, howling and threatening.
"If the King won't consent, let us settle it ourselves! The country
stands first! The King himself will thank us when his eyes are opened!
Let's go! what are we waiting for? There are enough of us!"
Duke Friedrich, who, as being the most powerful and most distinguished
guest present, was sitting next the King, turned to him and said in a
half whisper: "Your Majesty, this is a case in which you must give in!
Nothing is more dangerous than for the people to think they can act
against the King's will and go unpunished. No one will defend Kuthen,
and who knows what has been going on yonder, or even whether Kuthen is
still alive?"
The King maintained a determined silence, but his eyes flashed, and his
hand grasped the hilt of his sword.
The tumult increased, and some even of those who believed in the Kunok's
innocence, were so alarmed by the rage of the insurgents that they
hurried up to the King and implored him to yield. The pressure around
him waxed greater and greater.
Duke Kálmán, who was standing not far off, cried out, "Your Majesty
won't give in! The honour of the nation is at stake!"
But the noise and confusion were so great that the King could not hear
a word his brother said. The Duke shouted for his horse, but it was all
in vain, for he could not move.
King Béla, pressed on all sides by those who were beseeching, imploring,
urging, forgot himself for a moment. He put his hands over his eyes,
then stretching them out, he said, "Lavabo manus meas! (I will wash my
hands). You will answer to God for this wickedness. I have done what I
could do!"
"The King has consented!" roared those nearest him.
The mob began to sway about, the horses neighed, the people all poured
forth, roaring, "Eljen a király! Long live the King! Death to the false
traitors! Forward! To Kuthen! to Kuthen!"
No sooner was he free than Duke Kálmán mounted the first horse he could
seize, while the mob rushed off like a whirlwind in the direction of the
house by the Danube.
When the King looked round none were left but some of the magnates.
"A horse!" he shouted furiously; and he galloped away after the mob,
accompanied by the Austrian Duke and the rest.
If Béla had mounted his horse before he addressed the mob, if he had
faced the insurgents as a king, and had at once punished the
ringleaders, the country might have been spared great part of the
disasters which were now on the very threshold. But once again the King
was weak at a critical moment. There is much to be said in his excuse
and defence; but weakness, however brilliantly defended, remains
weakness still.
A few moments after the mob had burst into the King's tent, Akos was
again at the drawbridge which led to Kuthen's dwelling.
"What do you want, sir?" asked the captain of the guard hotly, as he
sprang forward to meet him. "No one is admitted."
"Since when?" asked Akos haughtily.
"The King sent orders an hour ago."
"Maybe! but I have come straight from the Diet by the King's command,
and I am to take Kuthen and all his family before him and the States at
once, while you can remain here to guard the place till our return."
The captain turned back submissively, and blew the horn which hung at
his side. Possibly the drawbridge which formed the outer gate of the
castle would not even now have been lowered, but that Kuthen had
recognised Akos, and that they were so well armed as to be quite a match
for the guard, and for those of the mob who had remained behind.
The drawbridge was lowered therefore, but raised again the moment Akos
had passed. He rode across the covered space between the drawbridge and
the inner gate, and there he had to wait again a few moments while the
bolts and bars were withdrawn. He leapt from his horse as soon as he was
within, and Kuthen and his sons hurried from the entrance-hall to meet
him, doubting whether he brought good news or bad.
"Quick!" said Akos, "to horse! your Majesty, to horse! all of you," and
without waiting Kuthen's answer, he shouted, "Horses! bring the horses!
and mount, all who can!"
The Princes flew at once to the stables, and bridled the horses--which
were always kept ready saddled--while Kuthen asked in some surprise,
"What has happened? Where are we to go?" for he had not been able to
read anything in young Szirmay's face, whether of good or of evil.
"Where?" said Akos bitterly, "where we can be farthest from the mob--the
mob has risen and may be here any moment."
In those times, sudden dangers, sudden alarms, sudden flights were
things of every-day occurrence, and Kuthen and his followers had long
been accustomed not to know in the morning where they should lay their
heads at night. No people were quicker or more resolute in case of
extremity than the Kunok, who were one family, one army, one colony, and
moved like a machine.
The Queen and Princesses, as well as the chiefs, had all come together
in the hall, but now the former and many of the servants rushed back
into the house, from which they again emerged in a few moments, all cool
and collected, all ready to start, and with their most valued
possessions packed in bundles.
The riding horses were bridled, some of the pack-horses loaded, and all
had been done so quickly and quietly, that the guard without had heard
no more than the sort of hum made by a swarm of bees before they take
flight.
Meantime Akos had rapidly explained matters to Kuthen, pointing out to
him that King Béla and his brother and others were standing up for him,
but that there was a rising of the populace, and that the mob might
arrive before the King, when, even if they were successfully beaten
back, there would certainly be bloodshed, which would only exasperate
the people more than ever, and make it impossible for the King, good as
he was, to ensure the safety of his guests. Whereas, if they could
succeed in avoiding the first paroxysms of fury, King Béla would be the
first to rejoice at their escape.
Akos spoke confidently, and his words carried conviction.
Kuthen, his family, and the chiefs were already mounted, while those of
the guard who were on foot formed themselves into a close, wedge-shaped
mass, and were all ready to set out.
"Lower the drawbridge!" cried Kuthen. The chains rattled, and the gate,
which had been closed behind Akos, was reopened. He and Kuthen headed
the procession which issued forth.
At that moment a long, yellow cloud of dust made its appearance in the
distance, coming towards them. A horseman was galloping in front of it,
and he was closely followed by two more, shouting aloud what no one in
the castle understood, but something which made the captain of the guard
without give orders for the bolts of the drawbridge to be pulled back;
and the bridge, left without its supports, dropped with a great plash
into the moat.
The Kunok were cut off!
With the sangfroid and fearlessness learnt in the course of his
adventurous life, Kuthen at once ordered the drawbridge to be raised;
the inner gate was closed again and barred with all speed.
Akos was as pale as death, for he saw in a moment that he had come too
late, and that all was lost; but he was resolved to share the fate of
the man, whom for Marána's sake he looked upon as his father.
As for Kuthen, he was suddenly the wild chief again. His face was
aflame, his eyes flashed fire, he was eager for the fray, and his one
thought was to defend himself proudly. He ordered the guards to their
places, the horses having been already led back to their stables; and
then, turning to his family, he said coolly and calmly, "We will defend
ourselves until the King comes, and then his commands shall be obeyed,
whatever they are."
The women at once retired to their own quarters, without uttering word
or groan. There were no tears, no sobs, no sign of terror on their
countenances. They looked angry and defiant.
When the women had withdrawn, the Princes went to their posts, and
Kuthen, turning to Akos, said, "Remember your oath."
Akos raised his hands to heaven without a word.
His own position was a more dangerous one than it might seem at first
sight. His manifest intention of shielding Kuthen from their vengeance
would bring down upon him the hatred of his own countrymen; while on the
other hand the furious glances of the Kunok confined in the castle, and
their ill-concealed hostility, showed him clearly that his life was now
in danger from within as well as from without.
The mob which had rushed away from the Diet had pressed on with the
speed of the whirlwind, its numbers growing as it went. A few minutes
only had passed since the cloud heralding its approach had been seen,
and already the crowd was swarming round the banks of the moat, making
an indescribable uproar and uttering the wildest, fiercest shouts.
Within, all was silent as the grave. But the mob outside were not idle
for a moment. They were athirst for vengeance, and from the moment of
their arrival they had been busy trying to make a passage across the
moat by throwing in earth, straw, pieces of wood, even furniture,
brought on all sides from the neighbouring houses, and, in fact, all and
everything that came to hand.
All at once there was a cry raised of "The King! The King is coming!"
It was not the King, however, but Duke Kálmán, with his servants and
some of the nobles in his train.
That part of the moat faced by the gate was by this time almost full,
and some of the more daring spirits were trying to clamber up to the
drawbridge, when suddenly the scene changed. The wild figures of the
Kunok appeared as if by magic upon the walls, the thrilling war-cry was
raised, and a cloud of well-aimed arrows hailed down upon the
assailants.
Kuthen and his sons, who confidently expected King Béla, had done their
utmost to restrain their people, but in vain, for when they saw the moat
filled and their enemies preparing to rush the gate, they became
infuriated and uncontrollable.
In the first moment of surprise all fell back, knocking over those
behind them; but some few began to retaliate and shoot up at the
garrison. Not to much purpose, however, for neither arrows nor spears
hit the intended marks, while the long arrows shot from the powerful
bows of the Kunok never failed.
It was during this fierce overture of the contest that Duke Kálmán rode
up.
"Stand aside!" he shouted, "stop fighting! The King is coming, he will
see justice done----"
The words were not out of his mouth when two arrows flew forth from
loopholes in the walls. One struck the Duke's horse, and the second
felled to the earth a young nobleman riding close beside him.
"They have shot the Duke!" was shouted on all sides; for so dense was
the cloud of arrows that it was impossible to see at first which of the
two had fallen.
The Duke himself, however, was standing coolly defiant amidst the
whistling storm.
But the shouts were the signals for a general rush, and from that moment
no one, not even the King, could have restrained the people.
The moat was filled, the drawbridge wrecked, the inner gate, in spite of
its bars, wrenched from its hinges and thrown down upon the dead bodies
of the Kun guards.
The mob rushed in and stormed the castle, and an awful scene of
bloodshed followed. Kuthen, his sons, and the Kun chiefs fought
desperately; and side by side with them fought Akos, so completely
disguised as a Kun as to be quite unrecognisable. He was too downright
to have thought of a disguise for himself, but had acquiesced in it at
Kuthen's entreaty.
The first of the mob who rushed into the courtyard fell victims to their
own rashness, and many more were despatched by the arrows poured from
the walls.
But suddenly the younger of the two Princes fighting beside their
father, fell to the ground with a short cry.
"My son!" exclaimed Kuthen, turning to Akos, "Go! now's the time! keep
your word! I--I'm dying!"
With that, Kuthen, who had been mortally wounded by a couple of pikes,
rushed upon his foes, felled several of them by the mere strength of his
arm, and then himself sank down. Akos rushed from the entrance-hall into
the house.
"You are our King now!" roared the Kunok, pressing round the remaining
Prince, and covering him with their shields, as he fought like a young
lion.
All at once there were loud outcries and yells. The Kunok outside the
house, finding themselves unable to defend the castle against the swarms
which poured into the courtyard, had rushed in, closing the doors and
barring the windows.
All in vain! The young Prince, just proclaimed King amid a shower of
arrows, retreated from one room to another, some of his defenders
falling around him at every moment. By the time the last door was burst
open, less than a dozen of his guard remained, all wounded, all fighting
a life-and-death battle with desperation.
A few moments more and every Kun in the place had ceased to breathe.
Where were the women? What had become of Akos and his bride?
Presently the mob outside received with howls of joy the heads of Kuthen
and his family, flung to them from the windows, and at once hoisted them
on pikes in token of victory. If the head of Akos was among them no one
noticed it, for he had stained his face.
Maddened by their success, the rabble now made with one consent for
"King Béla's palace," foremost and most active among them being the
Austrian Duke's men-at-arms.
They poured into it like a deluge, and the air was filled with shouts of
"Eljen a király! Long live the King! The traitors are dead!"
When they had shouted long enough, they set fire to Master Peter's old
mansion, as if it had been the property of King Kuthen, and in less than
a quarter of an hour sparks and burning embers were flying from it into
the air, while the gaping multitudes ran round and round the dwelling,
in all the bloodthirsty delight of satisfied revenge.
A day or two later, the Kun army, which had promptly obeyed
orders--more promptly indeed than most even of the more energetic
Hungarians--reached the gate of Pest, well mounted and well armed.
There first they learnt what had befallen their King and his family.
They came to a halt.
The chiefs took counsel together as to what was to be done, and they
were not slow in coming to a decision. For the news had spread into the
country that all the Kunok in Pest had been put to death for treachery,
and the country, following the example of the city, had also begun to
take matters into their own hands by making in some places regular
attacks upon the Kun women, children, and old men. The Kunok had not
understood the reason of this before.
Now they knew! and with one consent they turned back, gathering all
their own people together as they went, and turning against the
Hungarians the arms which at Béla's appeal they had been so quick to
take up in their defence.
Duke Friedrich stayed no longer, but, content with his little victory
over the Mongol chief, content with having helped to capture Kuthen's
castle and to murder its inhabitants, he made off home, giving a promise
which he did not keep, that he would send an army to Béla's assistance.
He had done mischief enough, and left an evil legacy behind him.