1520-1711.
During the seventeenth century Hungary was oppressed by two evils of
apparently antagonistic character; either of which, however, was to have
the same fatal effect on Hungarian Literature. On the one hand, nearly
two-thirds of Hungary proper, as apart from Transylvania, was under
Turkish rule; on the other, the Habsburgs, then at their apogee, waged a
relentless war against the liberties and independence of the Hungarians
both in non-Turkish Hungary and in Transylvania. In the latter country,
the Bocskays, Bethlens, and Rákóczys had in succession contrived to
establish a Hungarian principate which, although acknowledging Turkish
ascendancy, yet retained many of the rights of sovereignty. These two
sets of circumstances were in themselves hurtful to the development
of anything relating to Hungarian nationality, and most of all to
Hungarian Literature. The counties under Turkish rule could not, by the
very nature of the oppression under which they smarted, produce any
literary movement at all. The counties under Austrian rule were held in
bondage both political and intellectual, which stifled all attempts at a
national literature. The sages have as yet not been able to prove, that
a republican government must of necessity be beneficial to the material
and political welfare of a nation. As to the intellectual progress
of a nation, on the other hand, Liberty is generally taken to be an
indispensable condition. Literature is possible only where there is at
least a republic of minds. The Austrian government took good precautions
to render the rise of such a republic in Hungary an impossibility. All
the higher and middle schools in Austrian Hungary were, during the
seventeenth century, in the hands of the Jesuits. The order of Jesus
has not, as is well known, prevented a very great number of its members
and pupils from rising to eminence in Theology and in Science. It could
not, owing to its cosmopolitan and anti-national constitution, further
movements of national literature. Quite apart from the debatable nature
of its moral and political teachings, it retarded or stopped all such
movements by employing in its schools the Latin language as the vehicle
of instruction. At Nagyszombat (in 1635); at Kassa (in 1657); at Buda (in
1687), the Jesuits founded, or taught in, universities, where lectures
on all branches of knowledge were delivered in the mongrel language of
the mediæval Scholastics, which has always had a baneful influence both
on knowledge and its students. In the Protestant schools, the number of
which exceeded seven hundred and fifty, the same radically false system
was observed. The consequence was, that the vast majority of Hungarians
had never received a living knowledge of either the history of Man or of
Nature, and could accordingly turn their dead intellectual capital to no
account. The only Hungarians whose mental acquirements had sufficient
vitality to serve as stimulants to literary production of a higher type
were such as could read Italian or French, that is, works, written in
one, and thus fertilizing another living language. Such exceptional
individuals could then be found only amongst the wealthy classes, or
in other words, amongst the magnates. Thus it happened that all great
literary work in Hungarian produced during the seventeenth century was
done by the great noblemen, and by them alone. Hungary may therefore
afford a fair test for the curious problem, whether from an aristocracy
of birth can be recruited that aristocracy of genius the work of which
forms a nation’s great literature. In Hungary, the aristocracy of birth
proved, on the whole, unequal to such a task. The Hungarian magnates of
the seventeenth century did much creditable work in _belles-lettres_, and
some also in graver departments of literature. Yet, they were unable to
originate more than a temporary and inferior reform; and, moreover, they
did, as we shall see, serious harm to the literary life of the nation at
large, in that they were not able to engage its interests in the growth
of its literature.
Of these magnates, the eloquent Cardinal Primate of Hungary, Peter
Pázmány (1570-1637), Archbishop of Esztergom, claims our attention
first. In his thirteenth year he became a convert to Catholicism,
and later a Jesuit; and so intense was his zeal for the Church of
Rome, that most of his active life was spent in a propaganda, by
writings even more than by words, for his church, and with a constant
literary warfare with the non-Catholics of Hungary. He is said to have
converted no less than thirty of the noblest families of his country
to the Catholic persuasion. At his time, perhaps the greatest number
of Protestants were in Transylvania, whose princes were warm-hearted
protectors of the Reformation; and since they cultivated the Hungarian
language in preference to any other, Pázmány thought it wise to use
the same idiom in his controversial writings. Pázmány’s theological
armoury is taken chiefly from the controversial works of his French
colleague and contemporary, the famous Jesuit Bellarmin. In his style,
however, he shows considerable originality. He prefers the strong, racy
expressions, proverbs and similes of the common people. His is a direct
and vigorous, rather than an artistic style. The strange contrast between
his popular vocabulary and the scholastic fence of his thoughts lends a
peculiar flavour to his _Hodegus_ or “_Kalauz_” (1613), and his sermons
(“_Prédikácziók_,” 1636). Among his numerous Protestant opponents were:
Peter Alvinczi, of Kassa; and George Komáromi Csipkés, of Debreczen;
the latter translated the whole Bible into Hungarian. As a sad contrast
to the splendid career of the convert Pázmány, we may mention here the
life-long sufferings and wanderings of the loyal Protestant Albert Molnár
de Szencz (1574-1634), who was persecuted wherever he came, in Germany,
Austria, Hungary or Transylvania; and who, one of the true epigones of
the Conrad Gesners and Sylburgs, published, in the midst of poverty
and misery, Hungarian dictionaries; a valuable Hungarian translation
of the Psalms (1607, after French models), which is in use to the
present day; a Hungarian Grammar (1610); and a Hungarian translation of
Calvin’s _Institutio_. Finally, the gorgeous picture of the Cardinal
cannot be set off to more advantage, than by a slight mention of the
fanatic and obscure _Sabbatarians_ (“_Szombatosok_”), in the background,
whose religious poetry is no uninteresting evidence of the Hungarian
theological literature of that time.
Amongst the numerous _protégés_ and pupils of the victorious archbishop
we find also Count Michael Zrinyi (1618-1664), a descendant of the famous
Zrinyi, who, in 1566, defied single-handed the invasion of Sultan Soliman
the Splendid, by offering him, with a handful of men, unconquerable
resistance in the Castle of Szigeth, some twenty miles west of Pécs.
Count Michael was one of the best educated men of his time, and equally
great as a patriot, poet and general. The sad state of Hungary could
not but affect deeply a man, whose historic _rôle_ seemed to be clearly
indicated by the glorious heroism of his ancestor. Having travelled
abroad, especially in Italy, where Tasso’s religious epic _Gerusalemme
liberata_ was read then more than ever after, he conceived the idea of
stirring up a vast crusade against the Turks, by singing the deeds of
his great-grandfather in an epic at once political and religious. This
epic is commonly called the “Zrinyiad” (“_Zrinyiász_”), and consists
of fifteen cantos, written in rugged and rough style. It reveals much
power of description and religious enthusiasm; but it is lacking in
form and moderation; nor can the portraits of its heroes be called
plastic by any means. It is, from the artistic standpoint, spoiled by
the deficiency above mentioned; the central hero is too perfect to
be lastingly interesting. Old Zrinyi is capital matter for ballads;
for an epic he is too faultless. On the other hand, the “Zrinyiad” is
one of the most effective of patriotic epics. Like the epic works of
Klopstock in Germany, or “_Ossian_” in England, it had at the time of its
appearance a great national value, apart from its literary merits. In
telling the Hungarian nation in tones of sacred anger, that the Turkish
oppression was due to the depravity of the Magyars, in exhorting them in
vigorous modes to rally and shake off the yoke of the infidels, Zrinyi
added an internal lustre to his work which even now, after more than
two centuries, has not lost much of its splendour. Like the daring and
glorious deed of his ancestor, his poem is more of a patriotic than an
historic event. It were only gross exaggeration to count the “Zrinyiad”
amongst the world’s great epics. The poet might well belie history in
letting his ancestor personally kill the great Sultan. It would be
dishonest to add to the glory of the poet by ignoring the truth of the
literary canon.
As to the other magnates who wrote poetical works in Hungarian during
the seventeenth century, it will be sufficient to say, that their poems
were meant chiefly for the gratification of their authors; and although
some of them were printed in book form, yet the bulk was left in the
well-deserved obscurity of family archives. The most noteworthy of these
poets were: John Rimay de Rima (1564-1631), an imitator of Balassi; Peter
Beniczky de Benicze (1606(?)-1664); Count Stephen Kohári (1649-1731);
Baroness Catherine Sidonia Petrőczi; Count Peter Zichy; Count Valentin
Balassi, the second poet of that name (1626(?)-1684); and Baron Ladislas
Listhy (1630-1660(?)), whose epic, “The Disaster of Mohács” (“_Mohács
veszedelme_”), betokens a remarkable talent for versification.
So exclusive was the influence of the magnates on the literature of that
time, that the one remarkable poet of the seventeenth century who was
no magnate himself, although a nobleman, selected as the subject of his
epic poem a romantic event from the life of one of the leading magnates.
Count Francis Wesselényi besieged, in 1644, the Castle of Murány,
defended by the beautiful widow, Mary Szécsi. In the end he won both
the heart of the heroic beauty and the castle. This famous event forms
the burden of one of the most popular of Hungarian poetical narratives,
briefly called, “The Venus of Murány” (“_Murányi Vénus_”, 1664), written
by Stephen Gyöngyössi. Its language is musical, and the narrative tone
very felicitous. The poet has evidently made a close study of Ovid,
and frequently reaches the light touch and charm of the Roman; he even
adds an element of romance, which has endeared his work to more than six
generations of Hungarian readers. The metre is Alexandrine.