During the engagement between the Richard and the Serapis, the Pallas,

commanded by Captain Cottineau, seems to have done her duty. She

engaged the Countess of Scarborough, and captured her after an hour's

close action. The Pallas was a frigate of thirty-two guns, and the

Countess of Scarborough a single-decked ship, mounting twenty

six-pounders. The Alliance, in the course of the night, also fired into

the Pallas and the Countess of Scarborough, while engaged, and killed

several of the Pallas' men. Subsequent to the engagement it was attested

by the mass of officers in the squadron that, about eight o'clock, the

Alliance raked the Bonhomme Richard with grape and cross-bar, killing a

number of men and dismounting several guns. He afterward made sail for

where the Pallas and the Scarborough were engaged, and after hovering

about until the latter struck, communicated by hailing with both

vessels, and then stood back to the Richard, and coming up on her

larboard quarter, about half-past nine, fired again into her; passing

along her larboard beam, he then luffed up on her lee bow, and renewed

his raking fire. It was proved that the Alliance never passed on the

larboard side of the Serapis, but always kept the Richard between her

and the enemy. The officers of the Richard were of opinion that Landais'

intention was to kill Jones and disable his ship, so as afterward to

have himself an easy victory over the Serapis. As it was, he

subsequently claimed the credit of the victory, on the plea of having

raked the Serapis. There can be little doubt that he was actuated by

jealous and treacherous feelings toward Jones, and by base cowardice.

The Vengeance also behaved badly; neither she nor the Alliance made any

prizes from among the fleet of merchantmen, and the whole escaped under

cover of Flamborough Head and the adjacent harbors. Lieutenant Henry

Lunt, who was absent in the pilot-boat with fifteen of the Richard's

best men, lay in sight of the Richard during the action, but "thought it

not prudent to go alongside in time of action." His conduct at least

involved a great error of judgment, which no doubt he lived to repent.

The conduct of Jones throughout this battle displayed great skill and

the noblest heroism. He carried his ship into action in the most gallant

style, and, while he commanded with ability, excited his followers by

his personal example. We find him, in the course of the action, himself

assisting to lash the ships together, aiding in the service of the only

battery from which a fire was still kept up, and, when the Serapis

attempted to board, rushing, pike in hand, to meet and repel the

assailants. No difficulties or perplexities seemed to appal him or

disturb his judgment, and his courage and skill were equalled by his

immovable self-composure. The achievement of this victory was solely due

to his brilliant display of all the qualities essential to the formation

of a great naval commander.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] The Alliance had deliberately separated from the squadron. As to

the other vessels, the Pallas was a French frigate weaker than the

Richard, but much stronger than the second English ship, which she

captured. The Vengeance was only a sloop of twelve guns, and took no

part in the contest.--ED.

JOSEPH II ATTEMPTS REFORM IN HUNGARY[28]

A.D. 1780

ARMINIUS VAMBERY

As King of Hungary and Bohemia, and as Germanic Emperor,

Joseph II, a man of ideals, found himself hampered by

hereditary institutions and traditions. The attempted

reforms of this ruler, though too advanced for their times,

are justly deemed worthy of commemoration by historians.

Like the work of all leaders who aim at improvement before

the world is ready, they were prophetic of a better day.

Joseph II, son of Francis I, Emperor of the Holy Roman

Empire, and Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria and Queen

of Hungary and Bohemia, was born at Vienna in 1741. He

succeeded to the possessions of the house of Austria on the

death of his mother in 1780. The troubles of his reign,

especially in Hungary, were due to his own progressive and

technically illegal acts on the one hand, and to the narrow

conservatism of the people, and the illiberality of the

nobles, on the other.

By most of the historians of Hungary and Bohemia the reign

of Joseph II is described as disastrous for both countries.

But a more philosophical view than those historians often

furnish is presented by Vambery, the great Hungarian writer,

who gives to the endeavors of Joseph the credit of enduring

significance.

The royal crown of Hungary has ever been, from the time it encircled the

brow of St. Stephen, an object of jealous solicitude and almost

superstitious veneration with the nation. It continued to loom up as a

brilliant and rallying point in the midst of the vicissitudes and

stirring events of the history of the country during all the centuries

that followed the coronation of the first king. The people looked upon

it as a hallowed relic, the glorious bequest of a long line of

generations past and gone, and as the symbol and embodiment of the unity

of the state. The different countries composing Hungary were known under

the collective name of the "Lands of the Sacred Crown," and, at the

period when the privileged nobility was still enjoying exceptional

immunities, each noble styled himself _membrum sacrae coronae_ ("a member

of the sacred crown"). In the estimation of the people it had ceased to

be a religious symbol, and had become a cherished national and political

memorial, to which the followers of every creed and all the classes

without distinction might equally do homage. Nor was the crown an

every-day ornament to be displayed by royalty on solemn occasions of

pageant. The King wore it only once in his life, on the day of his

coronation, when he was bound solemnly to swear fidelity to the

constitution, before the high dignitaries of the state, first in church,

and to repeat afterward in the open air his vow to govern the country

within the limits of the law. Thus in Hungary it has ever been the

ancient custom, prevailing to this day, that, on the king's accession to

the throne, it is he who, on his coronation, takes the oath of fidelity

to his people, instead of the latter swearing fealty to the king. The

right of succession to the throne is hereditary, but the lawful rule of

the king begins with the ceremony of coronation only. It requires this

ceremonial, which to this day is characterized by the attributes of

mediaeval pomp and splendor, to render the acts of the ruler valid and

binding upon the people; without it every public act of such ruler is a

usurpation.

During eight centuries all the kings and queens, without exception, had

been eager to place the crown on their heads, in order to come into the

full possession of their regal privileges. Joseph II was the first king

who refused to be crowned. He felt a reluctance to swear fidelity to the

constitution, and to promise, by a solemn oath, to govern the country in

accordance with its ancient usages and laws. The people, therefore,

never called him their crowned king; he was either styled "Emperor" by

them, or nicknamed the _kalapos_ ("hatted") king. His reign was but a

series of illegal and unconstitutional acts, and a succession of bitter

and envenomed struggles between the nation and her ruler. The contest

finally ended with Joseph's defeat. He retracted on his death-bed all

his arbitrary measures, and conceded to the people the tardy restoration

of their ancient constitution. The conflict, however, had left deep

traces in the minds of his Hungarian subjects. It roused them from the

dormant state into which they had been lulled by the gentle and maternal

absolutism of Maria Theresa. Thus Joseph's schemes not only failed, but,

in their effects, they were destined to bring about the triumph of

ideas, fraught with important consequences, such as he had hardly

anticipated. The nation, waking from her lethargy, gave more prominence

than ever to the idea of nationality, an idea which, as time advanced,

increased in potency and intensity.

Yet this ruler, who on ascending the throne disregarded all

constitutional obligations and waged a relentless war against the

Hungarian nationality, must be, nevertheless, ranked among the noblest

characters of his century. Thoroughly imbued with the enlightened views

of the eighteenth century, and those new ideas which had triumphed in

the War of Independence across the ocean, he was ever in pursuit of

generous and exalted aims. He sincerely desired the welfare of the

people, and in engaging in this fruitless conflict he was by no means

actuated by sinister intentions or by a despotic disposition. To

introduce reforms, called for by the spirit of the age, into the Church,

the schools, and every department of his Government, was the lofty task

he had imposed upon himself. A champion of the oppressed, he freed the

human conscience from its mediaeval fetters, granted equal rights to the

persecuted creeds, protected the enslaved peasantry against their

arbitrary masters, and enlarged the liberty of the press. He endeavored

to establish order and honesty in every branch of the public service,

being mindful at the same time of all the agencies affecting the

prosperity of the people. In a word, his remarkable genius embraced

every province of human action where progress, reforms, and

ameliorations were desirable.

Unhappily for his own peace of mind and for the destinies of the nation

he was called upon to rule, he committed a fatal error in the selection

of the methods for accomplishing his humane and philanthropic objects.

He desired to render Hungary happy, yet he excluded the nation from the

direction of her own affairs. He wished to enact salutary laws, yet he

reigned as an absolute monarch, unwilling to call the Diet to his aid in

the great work of reformation, ignoring and disdaining the constitution

and laws of the country. He was impolitic enough to attack a

constitution which, thanks to the devotion of the people, had withstood

the shock of seven centuries. He was unwise enough to suppose that the

people, in whose hearts the love of their ancient constitution had taken

deep root, for the defence of which rivers of blood had been shed,

could be prevailed upon to relinquish it to satisfy a theory of royalty.

The old political organization was eminently an outgrowth of the

Hungarian nationality, and all classes of the people, including the very

peasantry to whom the ancient constitution meant only oppression, clung

to it with devoted fervor. The people were as anxious for reforms as

Joseph himself, but they wanted them by lawful methods, and with the

cooperation of the nation and their Diet. Joseph might have become the

regenerator and benefactor of Hungary if he had availed himself, for the

realization of his grand objects, of the national and lawful channels

which lay ready to his hand. But he unfortunately preferred attempting

to achieve his purpose out of the plenitude of his own power, by

imperial edicts and arbitrary measures, thus conjuring up a storm

against himself which wellnigh shook his throne, and plunging the nation

into a wild ferment of passion bordering on revolution.

The people presented a solid phalanx against Joseph's attack upon their

nationality and language, which to them were objects dearer than

everything else. They little cared for the Emperor's well-intentioned

endeavors to make them prosperous and happy as long as he asked, in

exchange, for the relinquishment of their nationality. And this, above

all, was his most ardent wish. He wanted Hungary to be Hungarian no

more, and wished its people to cast off the distinctive marks of their

individuality, and to adopt the German language, instead of their own,

in the schools, the public administration, and in judicial proceedings.

In a word, he made German the official language of the country, and was

bent on forcing it upon the people.

Henceforth every reform coming from Joseph became hateful to the people.

The oppressed classes themselves spurned relief which involved the

sacrifice of their sweet mother-tongue. By proclaiming equal rights and

equal subjection to the burdens of the state, he arrayed the privileged

classes against his person. The Protestants and the peasantry, who had

hailed him in the beginning as their new messiah, and fondly saw in his

innovations the dawn of brighter days, also turned from him as soon as

he attacked them in what they prized even more than liberty and justice.

It was not long before the whole country, without distinction of class,

social standing, or creed, combined to set at naught the Germanizing

efforts of Joseph. The hard-fought struggle roused the people, hitherto

divided by antagonisms of class and creed, to a sense of national

solidarity. It was during the critical days of these constitutional

conflicts that the foundations of the modern homogeneousness of the

Hungarian nation and society were laid down.

The privileged classes looked upon Joseph, on his advent to the throne,

with distrust. They foresaw that he would not allow himself to be

crowned, in order to avoid taking the oath of fidelity to the

Constitution of Hungary. The first measures of his reign concerned the

organization of the various churches of the country. He extended the

religious freedom of the Protestant Church. By virtue of the apostolic

rights of the Hungarian kings, he introduced signal reforms into the

Catholic Church, especially regarding the education of the clergy, which

proved, in part, exceedingly salutary.

He abolished numerous religious orders, especially those which were not

engaged either in teaching or in nursing the sick. One hundred forty

monasteries and nunneries were closed by him in Hungary. The ample

property of these convents he employed for ecclesiastical and public

purposes and for the advancement of instruction. He exerted himself

strenuously and successfully in the establishment of public schools and

in the interest of popular education. He removed the only university of

which the country could then boast from Buda to Pesth, a city which was

rapidly increasing, and added a theological department to that seat of

learning. All these innovations met with the approval of the enlightened

elements of the nation, while the privileged classes and the clergy

opposed them with sullen discontent. The opposition was all the more

successful, as the Emperor had contrived to insult the moral

susceptibilities of the common people by some of his measures.

Thus, with a view to economizing the boards required for coffins, he

ordered the dead to be sewed up in sacks and to be buried in this

apparel. This uncalled-for meddling with the prejudices of the lower

classes had the effect of creating a great indignation among them and of

driving them into the camp of the opposition. Trifling and thoughtless

measures of a similar nature impaired the credit of the most salutary

innovations. The people looked with suspicion at every change, and,

heedless of the lofty endeavors of the Emperor, everybody, including the

officials themselves, rejected the entire governmental system of Joseph.

The Emperor also wounded the national feeling of piety by his action

concerning the crown he had spurned. According to ancient custom and law

the sacred crown was kept in safety in Presburg, in a building provided

for that purpose. In 1784 the Emperor ordered the crown to be removed to

Vienna, in order to be placed there in the royal treasury side by side

with the crowns of his other lands. The nation revolted at this

profanation of their hallowed relic, and the highest official

authorities throughout the land protested against a measure which, while

it created such widespread ill-feeling, was not justified by any

necessity. A dreadful storm, accompanied by thunder and lightning, was

raging when the crown was removed to Vienna, and the people saw in this

a sign that Nature herself rebelled against the sacrilege committed by

the Emperor. The counties continued to urge the return of the crown, in

addresses which were sometimes humbly suppliant in their tone and

sometimes threatening, but Joseph did not yield either to supplications

or menaces.

When the edict which made German the official language of the country

was published, the minds of men all over the country were greatly

disturbed. It is true that hitherto the Latin, and not the Hungarian,

language had been the medium of communication employed by the state. But

the national spirit and the native tongue, which during the first

seventy years of the eighteenth century had sadly degenerated, were

awakening to new life during Joseph's reign. The literature of the

country began to be assiduously cultivated in different spheres. Royal

body-guards belonging to distinguished families, gentlemen of

refinement, clergymen of modest position, and other sons of the native

soil labored with equal zeal and enthusiasm to foster their cherished

mother-tongue.

It would, therefore, have been an easy matter for Joseph to replace the

Latin language, which had become an anachronism, by the Hungarian, and

thus to restore the latter to its natural and legal position in the

state. He was perfectly right in ridding the country of the mastery of

a dead tongue, but he committed a most fatal error in trying to

substitute for it the German, an error which avenged itself most

bitterly. Joseph entertained a special antipathy to the Hungarian

tongue, a dislike which betrayed him into omitting the teaching of the

native language from the course of public instruction, and refusing to

allow an academy of sciences to be established which had its cultivation

for its object.

The Emperor's attack upon the language of the nation irremediably broke

the last tie between him and the country, and henceforth the relations

between them could be only hostile. The counties assumed a threatening

attitude, some of them refusing obedience altogether. Thus most of them

declined to give their official cooperation to the army officers who had

been delegated by the Emperor to take the census. The count,

nevertheless, proceeded, but in many places the inhabitants escaped to

the woods, and in some there were serious riots in consequence of the

opposition to the commissioners of the census.

A rising of a different character took place among the Wallachs. The

Wallachs, smarting under abuses of long standing, buoyed up by

exaggerated expectations consequent upon the Emperor's innovations, and

stirred up by evil-minded agitators, took to arms and perpetrated the

most outrageous atrocities against their Hungarian landlords. The

ignorant common people were assured by their leaders, Hora and Kloska,

that the Emperor himself sided with them. The Wallach insurgents

assassinated the Government's commissioners sent to them, destroyed

sixty villages and one hundred eighty-two gentlemen's mansions, and

killed four thousand Hungarians before they could be checked in their

bloody work. Although they were finally crushed and punished, a strong

belief prevailed in the country that the court of Vienna had been privy

to the Wallach rising.

Joseph subsequently laid down most humane rules regulating the relations

between the bondmen and their landlords. But the country could not be

appeased by any boon, especially as the high protective tariff, just

then established for the benefit of the Austrian provinces, was

seriously damaging the prosperity of the people. Joseph's foreign policy

tended to increase the domestic disaffection. In 1788 he declared war

against Turkey, but the campaign turned out unsuccessful, and nearly

terminated with the Emperor's capture. The nation, emboldened by his

defeat, urged now more emphatically her demands, and requested the

Emperor to annul his illegal edicts, to submit to be crowned, and to

restore the ancient constitution. Joseph continuing to resist her

demands, most of the counties refused to contribute in aid of the war

either money or produce. In addition to their recalcitrant attitude,

they most energetically pressed the Emperor to convoke the Diet at Buda,

a few counties going even so far as to insist upon the chief justice's

convoking it, if the Emperor failed to do so before May, 1790.

The courage of the nation rose still higher when the news of the

Revolution in France and the revolt in Belgium reached the country. The

people refused to furnish recruits and military aid, and the Emperor was

compelled to use violence in order to obtain either. The counties

remained firm and continued to remonstrate in addresses characterized by

sharp and energetic language. Joseph yielded at last. He was prostrated

by a grave illness, and, feeling his end approaching, he wished to die

in peace with the exasperated nation he had so deeply wounded. On

January 28, 1790, he retracted all his illegal edicts, excepting those

that had reference to religious toleration, the peasantry, and the

clergy, and reestablished the ancient constitution of the country. Soon

after he sent back the crown to Buda, where its return was celebrated

with great pomp, amid the enthusiastic shouts of the people. Before he

could yet convoke the Diet death terminated the Emperor's career on

February 20th.

The world lost in him a great and noble-minded man, a friend to

humanity, who, however, had been unable to realize all his lofty

intentions. The effect of his reign was to rouse Hungary from the apathy

into which it had sunk, and at the time of Joseph's death the minds of

the people were a prey to an excitement no less feverish than that which

had seized revolutionary France at the same period. But while in Paris

democracy was victorious over royalty, the latter had to yield in

Hungary to the privileged nobility. The restored constitution was a

charter of political privileges for the nobles only, and as such was

most jealously guarded by them. This class kept a strict watch over the

liberal tendencies of the age, preventing the importation of democratic

ideas from France from fear of harm to their exclusive immunities.

Joseph was succeeded by his brother, Leopold II, who until now had been

Grand Duke of Tuscany. The new ruler was as enlightened as his

predecessor, and had as much the welfare of the people at heart; but he

respected, at the same time, the laws and the constitution. He

immediately convoked the Diet in order to be crowned, and by this act he

solemnly sealed the peace with the nation. The people hailed with joy

this first step of their new King, and there was nothing in the way of

their now obtaining lawfully from the good-will of the King the salutary

legislation which Joseph had attempted to force arbitrarily upon them.

But the fond hopes in this direction were doomed to disappointment. The

national movement had not helped to power those who were in favor of

progress, equality of rights, and democracy.

No doubt there were people in the country who differed from the men in

authority, who were sincerely attached to the doctrines of the French

Revolution and eager to supplant the privileges of the nobles by the

broader rights belonging to all humanity. The national literature was in

the hands of men of this class. They combated the reactionary spirit of

the nobility, and contended for the recognition of the civil and

political rights of by far the largest portion of the people, the

non-nobles. They boldly and with generous enthusiasm wielded the pen in

defence of those noble ideas, and indoctrinated the people with them as

much as the restraints placed upon the press allowed it at that period.

They succeeded in obtaining recruits for their ideas from the very ranks

of the privileged classes, and many an enlightened magnate admitted that

the time had arrived for modernizing the Constitution of Hungary by an

extension of political rights.

The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 14 · 第 9 / 36 段