Infamous Lady: The True Story of Countess Erzsébet Báthory (3 page)

Regarding stories of a crazy uncle named Gábor, a review of both the Somlyó and Ecsed branches of the Báthory family genealogy indicates that Erzsébet did not have an uncle by the name of Gábor. She did, however, have a cousin on her mother’s side by the name of Gábor, who died in 1586. His son, by the same name, would go on to rule Transylvania.

Erzsébet did have an aunt Klara on her father’s side. Klara was married first to a man named István Drugeth of Homonnay (d. between 1538-40) and then to Antal Losonci (d. 1551). It seems questionable that Klara would have murdered either of her husbands, however, whether of the Drugeth or Losonci clans. More likely, she simply outlived them. Indeed, the Báthory clan had close ties to both the Drugeths of Homonnay and Losonci families: Erzsébet’s mother had been married three times, the second of which was to Antal Drugeth of Homonnay; Erzsébet’s brother, István, married Fruzsina Drugeth of Homonnay, and Erzsébet’s daughter, Katalin, would later marry György Drugeth of Homonnay (also spelled variously as Homonna, Hommonay, and Homanna). Klara’s own brother, Miklós, married Anna Fruzsina Losonci. The murder of prominent family members would certainly not have been tolerated, nor would intermarriage between the clans continue if something akin to homicide actually happened. In addition, it is unlikely that Erzsébet’s Aunt Klara had very much time to tutor her niece, whether in the ways of torture, witchcraft, or lesbianism. Although her exact birth year is uncertain, it is known that Klara was alive by 1521, thus placing her at least in her fifties by the time Erzsébet was a mere ten years old.

Mental illness may, indeed, have run in the family, particularly from inbreeding, but some of the alleged insanities—temper tantrums, swordplay in the house, or an unusual allegiance to a favorite chair—were also typical of aristocratic eccentricities.

      It is known that Erzsébet suffered seizures and fits of rage as a child, however, and it is said that her father did, as well. In later years, her letters described both eye and head pain that caused her problems; likely, migraines and epilepsy.

It is true that servants were dealt with harshly in Erzsébet’s time, and she likely witnessed brutal, public executions. Before her birth, a peasant revolt in 1514 had caused a drastic change in the laws, and István Werbőczy’s Tripartium Bull of 1517 reduced the local workforce to “property” status by the time she was born. Nobles, such as the Báthory family, had the legal right to settle disputes amongst their peasantry and to serve as local judge and jury, dispensing judgment that included even the death penalty. Essentially, peasants lacked most legal rights and, on occasion, unusual punishments were meted out.

For example, György Dozsa, leader of the same 1514 peasant revolt, was executed by being roasted alive. It is interesting to note that Dozsa was finally routed and captured at Temesvár by the combined forces of János Szapolyai and Erszébet’s uncle, István Báthory. An illustration from a 16
^th
-century Hungarian almanac shows a group of reveling nobles placing a red-hot metal crown on the captured Dozsa’s head. Bound half-naked to an iron throne, hot coals were shoveled beneath his seat and ignited. His accomplices who had not already been impaled all around him were force fed their commander’s flesh before being broken on the wheel and hanged. (In the rather unlikely alternative, it has also been said that while Dozsa was dying, he was actually mobbed and eaten by six of his rebel followers who had been starved beforehand.) Such spectacular executions, however, were reserved for special criminals and unique situations: Dozsa and his men had gone on a killing and looting spree, impaling dozens of priests and nobles before being apprehended.

For a commoner, particularly a gypsy, the usual punishment was hanging or the cutting off of a hand or fingers. Gypsies, in particular, were viewed as sub-human and godless by the ruling classes of the time. The accusation that a gypsy sold off a child to the Turks would probably not raise an eye amongst the nobility, as the upper classes deemed such behavior typical. If anyone did care, a sentence of death by being sewn into a live horse would be most unlikely unless the animal were already dead or dying. In a time when horses were viewed as more valuable than most peasants, it was unlikely that a horse would be killed to accommodate the sentence of a gypsy commoner. On the other hand, Hungarian nobles were also well-known for a somewhat “unique” sense of justice: had the gypsy instead been accused of stealing the horse, then a certain degree of black humor might indeed have been used to create a punishment to fit the crime.

In any case, the story goes on to say that young Countess Báthory witnessed this unusual event. She was hardly traumatized by it, however. Upon seeing the gypsy stuffed and sewn into the horse’s belly, his head sticking out of the animal’s body, Erzsébet found herself giggling at the bizarre spectacle. The tale is recounted by the French writer, Maurice Périsset, in his book,
La Comtesse de Sang
(The Blood Countess).

Stories aside, we do know that Erzsébet received an outstanding education at her parents’ home and that her family, as eccentric as they might have been, believed (rather progressively for the time) that it was permissible for a girl to be as well educated as a boy. In fact, she was trained in the classics, mathematics, and could read and write in Hungarian, Greek, Latin, German and even Slovak, the language of many of her servants. She also appears to have been interested in religion and occultism as well as the sciences, including astronomy, botany, biology and anatomy. Throughout her life, she ordered various books from merchants, requested copies of works from fellow nobles, and appears to have been what we would today call a life-long learner. It is even said that in her last years, spent under house arrest, she passed time by writing on the walls when parchment ran out. Various documents, written in her own hand, prove her ability to write fluently.

In fact, her writing style was short and to the point, almost curt. She wasted few words, generally, and wrote in the controlled style of one trained in the classics, including logic, Latin and Greek. Her penmanship and tone, as well as scholastic achievement, all indicate that she grew up in a very controlled and disciplined environment rather than a house of chaos or perversion.

Such an education was exceptional, especially at a time when few aristocrats, whether male or female, could read or write. Most of the nobility simply dictated their correspondence to clerks and administrative staff. In addition, the existing letters from the period suggest that writing was time consuming, laborious, and even thought to cause physical exertion. This is probably true to some extent: the process of scratching ink onto parchment (often sheepskin) by quill without smearing or blurring, all the while maintaining proper penmanship (as well as posture), would certainly have taken more time and effort than it does today.

      Young Erzsébet was what we would today call a “tomboy”: she demanded to be treated as well as her male relatives and staff. She enjoyed dressing up like a boy, studying like a boy and playing boy’s games, including fencing and horsemanship. She would also throw hysterical fits when she did not get her way. She was extremely studious and mature, however, and there is no question that she was brilliant. Given her magnificent education and early marriage into one of the most prominent families in Hungary, she likely turned heads even as a child. She was also a perfectionist who equally enjoyed dressing up like a young lady, adorning herself with jewelry, playing with animals, and engaging in philosophical discussions.

      We do know that Erzsébet would travel back to her Ecsed family home many years later when her brother István died and, before that, she made periodic trips to visit. It is likely that she conducted business there and had at least a cordial relationship with her brother. Unfortunately, we do not know very much about her younger sisters or her relationship with them, except that both Klara and Zsofiá married what might be called “middle-class” noblemen. Klara married Mihály Várdai (Michaelis de Kisvardi or Michael de Kiswárda). Zsofiá married András Figedy (also spelled Figedyi or Fygedy) and had at least two children, István and Borbála Figedy. (Despite a romanticized tale to the contrary, Erzsébet’s sisters were not murdered as children in a peasant revolt.)

      It was typical for a young girl of the nobility to become engaged in childhood and then spend her adolescence at the estate of her future in-laws. There, she would learn how to run the household, manage its staff, and finish her social training before the wedding date. So it was for young Erzsébet Báthory. In the year 1571, the 11-year-old was engaged to 16-year-old Count Ferenc Nádasdy de Nádasd et Fogarasföld in what was essentially a business deal between the two families. Some time before the conclusion of the marriage contract in December of 1572, she left her family home at Ecsed to travel to Sárvár, the main residence and family seat of the Nádasdy family. There, she was entrusted to the care of her future mother-in-law, Countess Orsolya Kanizsai Nádasdy.

    Neither of Erzsébet’s parents would attend her wedding. Her father, György, passed away in 1570 when she was only ten, and we know that her mother, Anna, was also deceased by the time of the wedding in 1575. (György Báthory was approximately 50 years old when he died. Although his date of birth is uncertain, his siblings all appear to have been born in the 1520’s, and he himself was named Lord of Castle Buják in 1522—likely the year of his birth. Born in 1539, Anna Báthory’s date of death is uncertain. We do know, however, that she, too, was already dead by the time of Erzsébet’s wedding in 1575, thus passing away in her mid-thirties.) By her wedding date, Erzsébet had inherited an enormous amount of property from both of her parents The family estate at Ecsed ceded to her older brother István, however, who would reside there for the remainder of his life.

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THE NÁDASDY FAMILY

Although not as old or illustrious as her own, the young Countess would nonetheless marry into an incredibly wealthy and powerful family. Her future mother-in-law, Orsolya Kanizsai, was the daughter of László von Kanizsai and Anna Dragffy. Born in 1523, Orsolya was the last family heir to the massive Kanizsai fortune and was married off at the age of twelve to Tamás Nádasdy.

The town of Sárvár, where Orsolya and Tamás Nádasdy would establish their main residence and family seat, is located in the county of Vas, Hungary, some 80 miles southeast of Vienna. A large castle and manor dominate the town, even today. Both were originally donated by Sigmund of Luxemburg to Orsolya’s ancestor, János Kanizsai. The Kanizsai family owned this property until 1535 when both castle and manorhouse transferred to Orsolya’s new husband, Tamás Nádasdy, through marriage. Tamás would later rebuild the palace in a grand, new Renaissance style.

Baron Tamás Nádasdy de Nádasd et Fogarasföld (1498-1562), Erzsébet’s future father-in-law, was quite senior to his barely-teenaged bride Orsolya, already 37 years old when they married. He was a true Renaissance man, however, having been educated at Graz, Bologna and Rome. He was a scholar, statesman, and warrior, determined to bring Hungary out of the Middle Ages and into the Modern Era.

His ambitions had always been high: at the age of 23, Tamás accompanied Cardinal Cajetan (whom the pope had sent to Hungary to preach a crusade against the Turks) to the city of Buda to act as his interpreter. Four years later, in 1525, he became a member of the Council of State and, two years after that, was made commandant of Buda, having sided with the Hapsburgs and Ferdinand. In 1528, with the help of Baron György Cseszneky, commander of Tata, Nádasdy occupied Győr for Archduke Ferdinand. (Ferdinand was the brother of the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, and, as mentioned, the Hapsburg choice for King of Hungary.)

Unfortunately, Tamás Nádasdy would soon face the difficult decision of most Hungarian nobles at the time: remain loyal to the Hapsburg family and its choice of Ferdinand for the throne, or side with János Szapolyai, the choice of Hungary’s lesser nobility. Meanwhile, Szapolyai had been plotting behind the scenes with the Turkish Sultan, Suleyman the Magnificent. Both Szapolyai and the Turks wanted to end the Hapsburgs’ control over Europe. In exchange for pledging allegiance to Suleyman, Szapolyai was given a massive Ottoman army. In 1528, he headed for Vienna with his Turkish forces in tow. Szapolyai had to pass through the territory of Buda which was under Nádasdy’s control, however, and it is here that Nádasdy had to make his choice: either take a stand for Ferdinand, fighting Szapolyai and the Turks, or capitulate. Nádasdy chose the latter. After hiding out for a time, he finally emerged, switching his allegiance from Ferdinand to Szapolyai.

Whether through fear, clever negotiation, or a simple desire to save the city and its people from harm, Nádasdy virtually handed Buda over to Szapolyai. His Turkish forces marched in, took control of the city, and then headed for their primary target, Vienna. In 1529, they laid siege to the city to the horror of Europe. Vienna managed to hold out against the Turks, but the damage to Tamás Nádasdy’s reputation was done.

Although “imprisoned” by the Turks, Tamás Nádasdy meanwhile charmed his captors who knew he had given Buda to them. The following year, Szapolyai, now a powerful lord of the Sultan, honored Nádasdy by making him Master of the Treasury. This would suggest that Nádasdy had done his share of dealmaking before handing Buda over to Szapolyai. The honor was ultimately an embarrassment, however, for many of Szapolyai’s followers still thought of Nádasdy as a dishonorable turn-coat who had betrayed Ferdinand. Tamás Nádasdy had to do something to save face; in other words, he would have to fight gloriously for Szapolyai and the Turks now. That said, he headed up an army of over 10,000 troops and attacked one of Ferdinand’s holdings, the castle at Szigetvar. The siege was a success, and Szapolyai gave the 32-year-old Nádasdy the Fagaras region of Transylvania as a gift.

Tamás Nádasdy then used his connections on both sides to force Ferdinand and Szapolyai into a temporary truce for the sake of the country. It is during this brief period of relative calm that he also turned his attention toward getting a wife. Nádasdy now had some property and status, but he wanted more: the second daughter of László Kanizsai, a seven-year-old child named Orsolya, was the only remaining heir to the massive Kanizsai fortune. Marriage negotiations began and, that same year in 1530, the couple became engaged. Tamás would have to wait five more years for Orsolya to come of age, however, planning to marry her in 1535.