Stephen Sisa : The Spirit of Hungary

"The human mind is unable to comprehend this man. In the same minute he can cry and laugh, make a promise and deny it, he talks like a saint and acts like a devil. This man is more of a Turk than a Christian, more of a Lucifer than St. John... He says that whatever he does serves a good purpose. When I am most upset by his words, I have to agree with his deeds. He knows my innermost thoughts. I pray to God for enlightenment and divine inspiration so I can execute my duty when called upon to do so."

Sforza Pallavicini, an Italian captain, wrote these words to King Ferdinand from Transylvania where he had been sent to deal with Fráter György (Friar George), the ablest diplomat in Hungary's history. Friar György was, in fact, a cardinal. At the time this letter was written, he received a message from the German-Roman Emperor which ended with these words:

"It is you alone among the leaders of our Church who stands up to protect Christianity against the Turkish infidels by your arms and counsel."

Fráter György is better known to historians as Cardinal Martinuzzi, whose phenomenal ability as a diplomat-soldier baffles them even today. To his contemporaries he was a "riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma." During his career this ambiguity earned him many enemies and few, if any, friends.

From Servant to Prelate

Fráter György began his "diplomatic career" - humbly enough - as a young stoker in the palace of János Zápolya, although feeding the stoves was a more important and confidential job at that time than it would seem now. He had access to every room in the castle at any time - even when confidential political discussions were in progress. Despite his illiteracy, he had a phenomenal memory which would absorb every detail of conversations he overheard in the palace. It was a strange but profitable initiation into the affairs of state. The young man spoke five languages, which he had picked up during childhood and while soldiering in the service of John Corvinus: Italian, Croatian, Hungarian, Polish and Wallachian. György had a miserable youth - in spite of being the son of a nobleman - making it easier for him to assimilate Hungarian ways when he grew older. His father's name was a tongue-twister (Utyessenovics), so he preferred the name Martinuzzi, his Italian mother's maiden name.

György's career as a stoker, however, came to an abrupt end: One day on the job he walked into the bedroom of the beautiful Princess Borbála, Zápolya's sister, just as she was standing before a mirror in the nude. Warned by her maid that there was a man in the room, Borbála, unperturbed, waved hey hand: "He is not a man, only a servant."

The sight of Borbála had enraptured György while her words wounded and humiliated him. After a sleepless night, he decided he could not stay in the castle a day longer. He chose instead the monastery. He fled to a Hungarian order near Buda run by the Pálos (Pauline) brothers. This abbey modeled after the Carthausian monks' was known for the austerity imposed upon its members. They were strict vegetarians. The grain they consumed had to be free of weevils, and the cheese they produced for sale was forbidden food for themselves because it might contain worms. The Pálos monks were not allowed to carry money, so any coins they had they put into a slot cut into the soles of their wooden shoes.

György soon distinguished himself by his amazing learning ability. Within a year he could read and write, added classical Latin to his repertoire of languages and finished a four year curriculum in six months. In addition, he demonstrated a keen business sense and brought prosperity to the lagging economy of the monastery. He was appointed Abbot of Sajólád in northeastern Hungary at the early age of thirty.

A King on the Run

One day early in 1527, an illustrious visitor knocked on the abbey's door: Fráter György's old master, János Zápolya. The last time they had seen each other György regarded Zápolya as an unreachable chief lord on a pedestal of power and wealth to whom he, a servant, had been but a particle of dust. Now it was a different story.

In the intervening years Zápolya himself had done

little to aid his country. In 1526, the year of Mohács, Zápolya, as Voivode of Transylvania, obsessed with the desire to become King of Hungary, had prayed for the early death of the young but sickly Louis II, a hope that was fulfilled at the battle of Mohács, when the Voivode did not, or would not, come to the aid of the King's army. Neither were Zápolya's troops to be seen when, after Mohács, Sultan Suleiman marched into Buda only to leave the city after sacking it.

With Louis II gone, the lesser noble had rallied around Zápolya and elected him Louis II's successor on November 5, 1526. He was duly crowned with the Holy Crown which had been recovered from the castle of Visegrád. The coronation ceremony had some awkward moments: The crown was oversized for the King's small head and Zápolya had to hold on to it with one hand as he rode to Coronation Hill.

Before long, another man, Ferdinand Habsburg of Austria, was elected King of Hungary by the higher nobility. The result of this double election was a civil war in which Ferdinand gained the upper hand - so much so that almost exactly a year after Zápolya's coronation, Ferdinand was crowned King of Hungary by the same Primate and by the same crown in the same church.

After his army was defeated by Ferdinand's forces at Tokaj on September 26, 1527, Zápolya became a king on the run. It was during his flight to Poland that he stopped at the Abbey of Sajólád. The meeting between Zápolya and Fráter György marked the beginning of a relationship which would change Zápolya's vacillating and impotent attitude into a policy of clearly formed ideas conceived by the prelate.

A Diplomatic Chess Game

In effect, Zápolya became Fráter György's main piece in a protracted diplomatic chess game involving kings, bishops, knights, castles, pawns and even a queen, with Fráter György being the principal player.

György's first move was a long one: he moved to Poland with his king, where he managed to obtain money by exchanging Zápolya's family treasure. The money was needed to organize a new army for Zápolya. Fráter György's second move was an arduous one. He set out on a walking tour of Hungary as a simple monk to recruit support for Zápolya. When the work was done, he opened a general attack in which his "pawns" defeated Ferdinand's soldiers at Sárospatak. This victory opened the way for Zápolya's troops to march through the Hungarian Plain and set up a base in Lippa, a strong fortress in the South.

What followed had been foreshadowed by remarks Fráter György had delivered while still an obscure delegate to the National Assembly in Hatvan:

I ask you, why do we want to make war if we are unable to make war? Let us contemplate the question: Is it absolutely necessary for us to get involved in a life and death struggle with the Turks? Look at powerful France, which found it worthy to conclude an alliance with the Turkish Emperor. The same was done by Poland and the Venetian Republic. Why should it be a shame for the Magyars? Sultan Suleiman himself had made a peace offer to Hungary only to be rebuffed by us: we even put his peace envoy in prison...

Why not try to keep the Turkish army away by applying good will and soothing words?

The Turkish Connection

Zápolya's next move, as suggested by Fráter György, was as unprecedented as the friar's speech at Hatvan: to obtain the Sultan's support and alliance. The handiwork was done by a wily and unscrupulous Polish diplomat: Jerome Lasky, a globe-trotter versed in ten languages who could play the role of a high living lord or a disguised outlaw.

Lasky's connection to the Sublime Porte (The Sultan's Court) extended to Grandvezir Ibrahim, who in turn had on his side Louis Gritti, an Italian renegade and adventurer comparable to Lasky. An illegitimate son of the Doge of Venice, Gritti's official position at the Porte was that of jeweler to the Sultan. Unofficially. Ibrahim assigned him to do dirty business, which included accepting gifts and bribes from visitors.

Sometimes promises are better bribes than clinking gold. Although Lasky had 40,000 gold pieces to offer on behalf of his client (Zápolya), he was not stingy in promises either. He offered Gritti the post of Governor of Hungary.

Lasky won over Gritti, who in turn won over his superior Ibrahim, who then convinced the Sultan that King János should be supported by the Turkish army. The Sultan swore on the Prophet's beard and his own sword that he would defend Zápolya against all enemies.

Zápolya had plenty of enemies even in his own camp. But his new "friend" and protector, Sultan Suleiman, kept his word and marched to Buda with his troops, where he put János Zápolya back in power as king on September 7, 1529.

A Notorious Governor

Zápolya's potential enemies in his own camp included the high dignitaries Czibak, Athinay, Nádasdy, Bánffy and the Ártándys, none of whom liked the idea of a Turkish alliance. In the diplomatic chess game devised by the Fráter, Zápolya took

another unprecedented step: he appointed Louis Gritti Governor of Hungary. In the same breath, the King named the malcontents in his own camp to important positions, giving them power to sabotage Gritti's efforts to govern.

This cunning plan was surely the brain child of Fráter György and based on his diplomatic tenet to "let your enemies fight each other." His plan worked too well. Gritti, after learning about the appointments, blushed: 'The same dogs only with different collars." He governed Hungary for three years as a cruel despot bent on killing and extortion.

While others suffered during these years, Gritti did not. He continued his extravagant lifestyle. He found time to sell angora cats at a great profit, and he spent large sums to hire writers to sing his praises, one of whom, Pietro Aretino, called him the Saviour of Hungary in a sixty-line poem.

His more sinister activities included the liquidation, one by one, of those malcontents, conveniently ridding the government of Zápolya's strongest opponents.

After Gritti's men killed Imre Czibak, the Bishop of Nagyvárad, Voivode of Transylvania and a folk hero in his land, it was Gritti's turn to die. Czibak's friends organized an army against the governor. They succeeded in capturing him in a fortress and he was later sentenced to death and duly beheaded.

Imre Czibak had not died easily. Physically, he was a giant, a latter day Pál Kinizsi with Samson-like strength. He was able to fend off half a dozen enemy soldiers simultaneously, he could easily lift an ox or a heavy millstone. Gritti's henchmen, knowing his terrible strength, surprised Czibak before sunrise by creeping into his tent while he slept. Awakening abruptly,. Czibak - barefoot and clad only in a nightshirt, grabbed his sword and cleared the tent of them in no time. Since the attackers could not overwhelm him in a fight, they collapsed the tent, then repeatedly stabbed their victim through the canvas until he bled to death.

A Queen Enters the Scene

After Czibak's death, Fráter György was appointed his successor as Bishop of Nagyvárad. He took his office seriously and revitalized religious life in his diocese, serving as an example for the faithful. The French historian Bechet, in describing György's pastoral work, remarked that "everyone praised his dedication and piety, which were extolled even by his most dogged enemies.

From Nagyvárad, the Friar, now Bishop, prepared the next move in his great chess game in which the figure of Queen was as yet missing, a lack he would soon remedy. He arranged a marriage between János Zápolya and the young Princess Isabella, daughter of the Polish King Sigismund. The marital arrangement contained a hitch: Sigismund stipulated that Zápolya must first be recognized as King of Hungary by Ferdinand and Charles V., powerful Emperor of Spain and Germany.

This provision posed problems because Ferdinand and Zápolya were rival kings of the same country. As Ferdinand wrote to his brother, Charles V: "I want from John what is his, and he wants from me what is mine." By this time, Ferdinand was also paying tribute money to the Sultan for allowing him to rule over Western Hungary.

It was against this background that Zápolya and Ferdinand concluded a peace treaty in Nagyvárad in February, 1538. The two kings formally recognized their territorial rights and agreed that on the death of Zápolya, whether or not he had children, the whole country was to be united under King Ferdinand and his heirs. The treaty contained a secret clause agreeing to form a common front against the Turks whenever feasible.

The obstacle to the marriage having been cleared, Isabella arrived in Buda for the wedding ceremony with a queenly entourage. She travelled in an eight-in-hand red carriage followed by hundreds of servants. She was a slender girl, thirty years the king's junior, with a beautiful face promising happiness and

blue eyes demanding pleasure. She had inherited her temperament more from her Italian mother (Bona Sforza) than her Polish father. Before their wedding she used to call Zápolya János bácsi (Uncle John).

The marriage was not even a year old when Zápolya's health began to deteriorate. In February of 1540, before leaving for Kolozsvár, he attended a Mass with his then pregnant wife. At the end of the Mass all the candles on the altar suddenly went out for no apparent reason. Taking this spine-tingling event as an omen, the King made his last testament before departing. He lived long enough to learn of the birth of his son (János Zsigmond) on July 7. but he died of a stroke during the ensuing celebration. His last act was to make Fráter György his son's guardian, eliciting from György a vow to make his son one day King of Hungary.

A Monumental Blunder

After Zápolya's death, King Ferdinand claimed his kingdom in accordance with the Nagyvárad treaty. Fráter György, in clear repudiation of the treaty, induced the nobles to proclaim the young boy, János Zsigmond (John Sigismund), as their choice for the Hungarian throne.

Meanwhile, Suleiman heard rumors that the boy was not Isabella's at all, but that he was only a ruse to deceive the world. To ascertain the truth, the Sultan's envoy, Beg Rusztem, requested an audience with the Queen. What followed was one of the most charming scenes recorded in Hungarian history.

When Rusztem entered the throne room, Isabella, dressed in the black velvet of mourning, was seated on the throne with the infant in her arms. At one point during the ensuing conversation, the child began to cry. To pacify him, Isabella opened her blouse and began nursing the boy before the astonished eyes of Beg Rusztem and the other dignitaries present. His doubts dispelled by this extraordinary gesture, Rusztem fell to his knees and kissed the tiny feet of the infant, vowing to be his protector for life.

King Ferdinand was not as gallant toward mother and child, and sent an army of 40,000 led by General Roggendorf to take Buda, the key to the late Zápolya's kingdom. Roggendorf almost succeeded in occupying the city, not by force but by a conspiracy which fizzled at the last moment on a technicality. Surprisingly, the Queen would have welcomed Ferdinand's troops. She would have preferred to be a happy mother than an unhappy queen.

The rivalry brought Isabella into conflict with Fráter György. Aided by relief units led by Bálint Török and Pasha Mohammed, he had a major role in beating back Roggendorf's attempt to take Buda and in annihilating his troops.

Had the Friar allowed Ferdinand's troops to occupy Buda, a city transformed into an almost impregnable fortress by the late Zápolya, then this key city would have remained in Christian hands. He did not, and this monumental blunder haunted him to death. The very next year he admitted to Ferdinand's envoy: "I made no mistake in my actions until last year when I handed Buda over to the Turks."

Buda is Taken by a Ruse

What actually happened was that in the continuing game of diplomatic chess, the Friar, instead of sacrificing his "castle" to Ferdinand, unwittingly offered the Sultan a chance to take Buda. When the latter arrived with his troops under Budavár (the fortress of Buda) on the fifteenth anniversary of the Mohács disaster, he sent a request to see his little protégé, János Zsigmond.

The Queen was terrified, but the Friar counselled her to comply. Then the year old boy, carried by his nanny and accompanied by Fráter György, Werbczy, Bálint Török (the Queen's general) and other dignitaries, was taken to the Sultan's camp. Their reception could not have been more cordial. The Sultan took the baby in his lap, tickled him with his beard and let his own sons, Szelemit and Bajazet, kiss the infant. The feast for the dignitaries lasted unusually late into the evening hours, but not without reason.

While the reception and feast was in full swing, the "impregnable" fortress city of Buda was infiltrated by innocent-looking Turkish "sightseers" who, at a given signal, revealed themselves as Janissaries and occupied the key points of the city.

Three cannon shots fired from Buda signaled the successful coup while Suleiman announced to his stupefied guests that Buda had become part of the Ottoman Empire. The next day, the Sultan rode into the city on horseback, said a prayer in the Church of the Virgin Mary - which had been transformed into a mosque - and ate salted bread on the premises in a ritual that marked the incorporation of Budavár into his realm.

He sent Queen Isabella, with her son and Fráter György, to Lippa in Transylvania. Not so lucky was Bálint Török; the Sultan ordered him to be taken to his dreaded Galata prison for life.

Now in 1541, the burial of Hungary, which had begun with the disaster of Mohács in 1526, was complete.

Farewell by Queen Isabella

Hungary was divided into three parts: one under Turkish jurisdiction, a second under German juris-

diction, with only the third area, Transylvania and the regions behind the Tisza River (Partium), having any chance of surviving under tolerable conditions. This third was the area presented by the Sultan as a gift to the little boy, János Zsigmond, but actually governed by Fráter György. In this position between two great enemies and among many smaller ones he skillfully maneuvered to outwit them all, and spared Transylvania from the fate of the rest of Hungary.

György succeeded fairly well. He made allies of both the Sultan and the Emperor. He made pacts with Ferdinand and Suleiman, but managed to put off fulfilling them with acceptable excuses. Both appointed him Governor of Transylvania, but the Friar would not use the titles given him.

György's constant headache was Queen Isabella who by now wanted to get rid of her "ward" at any price. With the year of mourning over, she became a pleasure-seeking woman yearning for admirers, entertainment and luxury, but she felt restricted by the stern moral code practiced by the Friar.

On the main front, Fráter György managed to restrain the Sultan from occupying more of Hungary by plying him with flattery, gifts and annual tributes. He renewed the treaty of Nagyvárad with Ferdinand at Gyalu by inviting him to occupy Transylvania, but only if Ferdinand would send a truly strong army to fend off the expected Turkish reaction.

The Sultan in response to the agreement of Gyalu, ordered a four pronged attack against Fráter György, to be carried out by Moldavian, Wallachian, Turkish and even Hungarian troops led by Petrovics,. the Queen's confidant. In this situation the smooth-talking, slippery prelate showed his mettle as a commander in battle. He defeated all his enemies and succeeded in pacifying the Sultan by letters written so brilliantly that when Suleiman received them, he instructed Isabella and Petrovics in this way: "In the future you must obey the Friar. Should you rebel against him once more, I shall be obliged to teach you obedience and your country will suffer the consequences."

The Sultan also demanded that little János Zsigmond be crowned King of Hungary, an act the farsighted Friar wanted to avoid. The time had come to send Isabella and her son away from Transylvania to foil the Sultan's plan. He persuaded Ferdinand to send an army there with a treaty promising Isabella 100,000 gold pieces, and to János Zsigmond the duchies of Oppeln and Ratibor in Silezia. The treaty also contained a promise to betroth Ferdinand's daughter, still in her infancy, to János Zsigmond, who was now two years old.

Fráter György induced Isabella to accept Ferdinand's offer. After the symbolic betrothal took place (the only one ever performed between a Habsburg offspring and the son of a Hungarian nobleman), Isabella departed from Transylvania with her son. Reaching its border, she looked back and, in a farewell gesture she carved her famous motto on a sycamore tree: sic fata volunt (Destiny willed it).

Maneuvering - until Death

Finally, Fráter György seemed to have achieved his goal, misunderstood by so many. With the transfer of Transylvania to Ferdinand, a major portion of Hungary was in the possession of a crowned, Christian king. It was Ferdinand's job now to keep it from the Turks.

After achieving all this, he sent a letter to Ferdinand, in which he recommended that the serfs be liberated from the tyranny of their landlords, thus securing their support in the fight against outside enemies. He was three hundred years ahead of his time in making such a suggestion.

Although Fráter György wanted to withdraw to a monastery, Ferdinand would not let him go. At his recommendation, the Pope elevated him to cardinal and also named him Primate of Hungary under the name Cardinal Martinuzzi.

It would seem logical that after these developments, the Sultan would regard the Cardinal as his enemy: but the prelate pacified him again by persuading Suleiman that Isabella took her child to Kassa only for the purpose of the betrothal and, when the time came, he would get rid of the Germans now in Transylvania. To be on the safe side, the Cardinal showed these letters to King Ferdinand's advisors before sending them to Turkey.

Instead of attacking Transylvania,. Suleiman's forces invaded another region, and Ferdinand's general, Castaldo, asked the Cardinal to help him defeat the Turks. He readily joined Castaldo's forces but at the same time sent a letter to the Sultan's commander, Mehemed Sokolovics, counseling him to withdraw his forces from Temesvár lest they be defeated by the superior forces of Castaldo. Mehemed obliged and in this way Fráter György again won a battle without bloodshed.

Castaldo mistrusted the double-dealing of the cardinal, because he failed to grasp his underlying motive: to protect Transylvania at any price. He tested Fráter György again by asking him to help capture the fortress of Lippa from the Turks. Obligingly, he fought like a lion on Castaldo's side against the Turks until Lippa's defender, Beg Ulama, capitulated. In return, Beg Ulama asked that his remaining troops be allowed to withdraw with their belongings.. At the Cardinal's intervention, the Beg's conditions were fulfilled by Castaldo, but some of his lieutenants attacked Ulama's retreating troops. Upon learning of this breach of faith, the Cardinal became upset and

created a scene, confirming the Italian officer's belief that the prelate was, indeed, working hand in glove with the Turks. This mistaken notion sealed Fráter György's fate.

After the capture of Lippa, he sent his army - including his bodyguards - home, and invited Castaldo, Sforza Pallavicini and other officers to his castle at Alvince. This was the same Pallavicini whose letter praying for divine guidance in dealing with Martinuzzi was quoted at the beginning of this chapter. His prayers went unanswered, it seems, because he opted for the worst solution. Leading a group of assassins, he surprised the Cardinal as he was offering his morning prayers in his room, and killed him.

Cardinal Martinuzzi, better known to the Magyars as Fráter György, lay unburied on the porch of his castle in the cold of winter for sixty days until some priests happened by and placed him in their own crypt at Gyulafehérvár, engraving the following Latin words on his tombstone: Omnibus moriendum est (We are all mortals).

If so, Fráter György was one of the "immortal" mortals.

The event took place in the fall of 1532 when Sultan Suleiman, the victor of Mohács, marched into Hungary for the third time. Actually, his target was not Hungary: but Vienna, where Ferdinand of Habsburg reigned over his empire. Suleiman had collected 130,000 troops, two hundred cannons and a fleet on the Danube for the great clash with the Emperor's army. In his march toward Vienna, Suleiman accepted the surrender of seventeen cities until the immense Turkish force reached the walls of Kszeg, an obscure little fortress in Western Hungary. Its garrison numbered only 700 peasant soldiers under the command of Miklós Jurisich, a Croatian officer.

Jurisich wrote in his diary later: "The reason I elected to defend this weak little town at the risk of my life against a powerful enemy was not to hold to it indefinitely, but to delay the Turks' march, thus gaining time for the Christian monarchs to gather their armies against them."

Even before the arrival of the main corps headed by the Sultan, Grand Vizier Ibrahim ordered the softening up of the Magyars' resistance by means of a bombardment lasting three days and three nights of the outer fortifications. This would render possible - so Ibrahim thought - a spectacular capture of the fortress in the presence of the Sultan.

However, things worked out differently. When the time came, the hoped for spectacular capture turned into a spectacular failure as the 700 strong garrison beat back every attempt of the besiegers to take the city. In a long series of see-sawing battles in which both sides applied mines and counter mines, it was only on the seventh day that the Turks succeeded in opening a large gap in the walls. But even this wide gap did not help the besiegers much: it was soon filled in with dead bodies, mainly that of fallen Turks.

In the days that followed, two giant wooden towers from which Turkish cannons aimed their deadly loads at Kszeg were set on fire by the defenders.

On the 17th day of the siege the Turks succeeded in hoisting four flags on the walls, only to be driven back again by counterattack. At this point Jurisich sent the following message to the king: "Half of my 700 peasants have perished in the fight: only 100 kg of gunpowder is left in the barrels. We are holding on only by the grace of God."

Sensing the desperate situation of the Magyars, the Sultan called upon Jurisich three times to surrender - to no avail. Thereupon Suleiman ordered an all-out assault in which the Turks succeeded in occupying the ramparts and penetrating the city proper. Eight Turkish flags flying on the bastions signaled that the city had been taken. Or was it?

Only a miracle could help the Magyars now. And indeed something close to a miracle did help them in this moment of distress. Wounded, Jurisich withdrew his remaining men behind the small walls surrounding the church where all the city's non-fighting survivors had also congregated, waiting for the inevitable.

If we all have to die, we should die as true Christian soldiers, thought Jurisich and he ordered his men to pick up all the church banners they could find. It was then that the "miracle" occurred. When the superstitious Turks sighted the religious flags, decorated with archangels, fluttering in the air, they became terrified, believing that an army of angry Christian angels was descending upon them - angels against whom the best recourse was to flee... And run they did, falling over each other all the way back to their camps. There, they recounted in trembling voices that the Magyar forces had been joined by an army of Christian angels brandishing flaming swords.

Meanwhile the Magyars were bracing for an expected twelfth attack against Kszeg - which could only be the last one, because the defenders were left without ammunition, virtually ready to surrender.

Then diplomacy took over. Grandvizier Ibrahim invited Jurisich for a friendly chat in which the Hungarian commander was told that the glorious Sultan had decided, in a mood of magnanimity, to spare the city and give it back as a "gift" to Jurisich.

After returning to the city Jurisich collected whatever silver he could find and sent it as a gift to the Grandvizier,. whose soldiers guarded the ramparts as the city slept. The Turkish flags, symbolizing the surrender of Kszeg, had flown on the bastions but for a day. The next morning, the mighty Turkish army simply disappeared from under Kszeg, which had held out for 25 days against incredible odds before "surrendering.". The 25 days' delay it had caused in the Sultan's schedule forced Suleiman to abandon his plan of attacking Vienna.

The chapter Transylvania beginning on the next page contains a few paragraphs drawn from studies written by Zsombor Szász and Henry M. Madden in the 1940/41 Winter issue of the Hungarian Quarterly.

Stephen Sisa : The Spirit of Hungary