The Phoenix Land (38 page)

How this fierce hatred began, I am not sure but I suspect that it started when Queen Zita’s family, the Bourbon-Parmas, lived in Pozsony (now Bratislava) in somewhat less affluent
circumstances
than the immensely wealthy Archduke Friedrich nearby. Furthermore, it is possible that, as the Bourbon-Parmas did not rank very high on the royalty scale, they may at that time have been treated by Friedrich in a manner they found humiliating.

One might also add that, just like Friedrich, the
Bourbon-Parmas
had a number of pretty daughters, and that when Archduke Karl first came to Pozsony (Bratislava) it was to woo one of the archduke’s daughters, but he fell in love with young Zita instead
98
.

All this may have provided her with reasons for disliking Friedrich, but her furious rage must have been an inherited family characteristic. Her mother had been a Braganza princess, grandchild of that King Manuel of Portugal who, it is said, chased his own father from the throne after killing the king’s favourite minister with his own hands. Queen Zita, with her dark hair and olive skin, had inherited the Braganza looks; and it may be that on the Parma side there were some worrying hereditary traits, for among her half-brothers and sisters not a few had been either mad or dim-witted.

However, when she wanted she could be most charming even though echoes of her iron will could be heard in every word she spoke. It seems likely that she came with her husband this time because, knowing his indecisive character and general softness, she was determined he should not again return to her
unsuccessful
and shamefaced.

They arrived at Dénesfa by aeroplane, where many people just happened to be collected together, ostensibly for the christening of one of Count Cziráky’s children, a function which would provide an excellent reason for their presence there that day. Gyula Andrássy was stepfather to Cziráky’s wife, and György Pallavicini was his son-in-law. Countess Cziráky’s sister, the beautiful divorced Princess Kája Odescalchi, was there too, having only just returned from Lucerne, where King Karl and his family had been staying ever since the first
putsch
. She had been there several times before, presumably acting as messenger for the Legitimist Party. All the noble aristocrats taking part in the new
putsch
were either close relations of Andrássy or part of his intimate circle of friends. Sigray was the only exception. Analysing all these facts, and knowing all the relationships, it is not difficult to unravel the conspiracy. It was clear that
everything
had been planned in advance, and Andrássy’s later
statement
– that they had known nothing beforehand and that King Karl’s arrival had taken them all by surprise – was clearly untrue.

Andrássy had previously discussed the statement that Bethlen was to make in Pécs and knew well in advance that this would be done on 20 October. Accordingly, King Karl’s arrival was planned so that he should already be in Sopron by the time
Bethlen was due to speak. This is why it was forbidden for every telephone and telegraphic line to be used so that the prime
minister
could not be informed before he uttered those phrases
concerning
the king. The conspirators must have thought that by doing this they would so tie Bethlen’s hands that he would be prevented from ever afterwards acting against the king’s return.

All the armed gendarmes in the Burgenland were under the command of Colonel Lehár, and as Lehár was their man it meant that his entire troop of some three to four hundred men
99
was at their disposal. This would be enough to quell any resistance, and that is why the Burgenland had been chosen for launching the
putsch
.

This is also why the christening of the Cziráky child had been postponed for months – a thing almost unheard-of in Catholic families – so as to have the excuse of the ‘chance’ gathering at Dénesfa; this is why as early as mid-September they had sent Countess Aimée Pálffy, who had previously been lady-in-waiting to Queen Zita, to Pinkafö to win over Prónay, who until then had always been in favour of a free election to settle the question of the monarchy. Indeed, Prónay fell in love and married the
beautiful
Countess Aimée, but beautiful though she was, she could never persuade him be anything but neutral. It is true that he did not side with Horthy, but he did not side with the Legitimists either. It is possible that his appointment as Lajtabán (governor) of Lafnitz, which had made him almost an independent ruler there, had gone to his head, and that he too had appreciated, as England had done during the Boer War, the ‘splendid isolation
100
’ of his position.

Further proof that all this had been planned in advance was the so-called ‘chance’ presence in the neighbourhood of István Rakovszky, who had been the most turbulent member of the former coalition government and was now Speaker of the House. I do not know if he had been in Györ or Magyarovár, but by Friday 20 October he was in Sopron and had already appointed Karl’s new prime minister.

Gustáv Gratz also arrived from Vienna at this time, having abandoned his official assignment, and was at once given a
ministerial
appointment. Because of Gratz’s absence from Portorosa
Hungary was left without a representative at a conference when matters of great importance to us were to be decided. It was also odd that Prince Louis Windischgrätz, King Karl’s intimate friend, an adventurer who was later to be so involved in the forged francs scandal, had left Switzerland at just this moment on his way to Slovensko by way of Prague. He too must have been on some Legitimist mission, for it seems likely, as this was afterwards much talked about, that he had convinced the unhappy king that the Czechoslovak army would rise and declare itself for the Habsburgs. However, Windischgrätz was detained in Prague and was allowed to go no farther. I later had a great deal of trouble to get him released, which did not prove easy
101
.

It was also obvious that Sigray and Lehár knew all about the king’s plans from the start, which is why they had spoken in so equivocal a manner on 16 October, when we had been discussing the Venice agreement. This would explain why Sigray had been so reluctant to give his word to carry out what he had just accepted to do.

This also explained why Gustáv Gratz had tried to get out of representing Hungary at Portorosa, and why he had lingered in Vienna for no apparent reason.

It was therefore futile for them to argue that everything that had happened was mere chance. Such perfect collusion and coordination are never by chance. These men all acted to a
preconceived
plan in which their roles had already been determined. The only thing they never considered was that this plan could be the ruin of their country.

That this did not happen was no thanks to them.

On Saturday morning we held a council meeting at Horthy’s residence. We decided we must resist. At midday the
ambassadors
of the Great Powers came to see me and handed over an ultimatum that declared they would never tolerate the return of King Karl and that, if we allowed him to remain on Hungarian soil, this would mean armed intervention and the occupation of our country.

I told them at once of our government’s determination to stand firm and let them know that we would do everything in our
power to make the king leave. I told them all that we then knew about the situation.

We had learned that Karl had left Sopron bound for Budapest that morning. He was accompanied not only by his new ministers and his court, but also by an armed force of two to three thousand and some artillerymen. This therefore became a case of open armed revolt on the part of the newly recruited troops who had given their oath of allegiance to the new constitution, and we had decided to treat it as such. If necessary, we would meet force with force, but first we had decided to try to ward off the danger by persuasion. Accordingly, we despatched József Vass, the minister of education, to meet the advancing king. He seemed an
appropriate
choice since, as he was a Catholic priest, we hoped he would have some influence upon Karl, and especially upon Queen Zita. According to the news we had received, the railway trains
carrying
the rebellion towards Budapest were travelling remarkably slowly. We hoped, therefore, that Vass would meet them
somewhere
near Györ. We did not then know that we had sent our envoy in vain, for Karl refused to receive him, and instead Vass found himself locked into a small compartment on the train.

Soon after midday consuls of the three neighbouring states – Czechoslovakia, Serbia and Romania – arrived. This was their first collective action, the first symptom of what, after the king’s
putsch
and because of it, came to be called the ‘Little Entente’.

They were also full of menaces and gave us an ultimatum to get rid of the king. I told them that I had already given our reply to the representatives of the Great Powers – which pleased them – but that we considered the problem of the king to be an
internal
affair which we were disinclined to discuss with anyone except the Council of the Great Powers which, as guarantors of the peace treaty, was the only body qualified to deal with the matter.

I do not want to go into the details of everything that passed that day – indeed, I don’t think I could – but I will try to convey its essence and that of which I still have vivid recollection.

That afternoon I went to see the prime minister and asked what he had heard, where were the insurgents, and was there any news of Vass?

Bethlen replied that the king had left Sopron in three trains, in the front two of which were the armed troops and in the last he himself and the entourage. They were still somewhere between Györ and Komárom, travelling very slowly because they stopped at every station and made addresses to the people. They had started late from Sopron because the king had attended an open-air mass on the platform and had then inspected a guard of honour and went through every little trick of royal protocol due to a Habsburg. This delay was obviously to our advantage as it gave us more time to organize our resistance. General Koós
102
was called back from Pécs by Horthy because there were hardly any troops in Budapest itself. Pál Nagy, the army chief, had
collected
every soldier he could find, but they were very few. There was talk of enlisting the university students, and it was possible that by the following day we might have enough men to offer some resistance but certainly not before then. Consequently, we sent Siménfalvy with a team of railway workers to take up the line at several places so as to slow the insurgents’ advance. ‘I do not want to agree to any further damage to the railway system, any blasting of tunnels or blowing up of bridges, as that would do enormous harm and would be far too expensive to repair later,’ said Bethlen. Now it was already getting dark. The direct line on his desk started to ring, and Bethlen walked over and picked up the receiver. He only spoke for a minute or two, and all I heard were the words ‘I will do whatever is my duty to the country!’ Then the caller evidently said something more, and Bethlen replaced the receiver. He was smiling.

‘Do you know who that was? Rakovszky. And do you know what he said? He said that he will not negotiate with us, and that if we do not resign at once he’ll hang the lot of us!’

We did not, of course, take much notice of the hanging threat, although knowing him we knew he was quite capable of
stringing
us all up. Still the threat was timely, for it reminded us of what would happen to us if our resistance failed. We two, the head of the government and his minister for foreign affairs, would most surely be arrested and flung into prison: Bethlen because he had ordered the resistance and myself because I had agreed to the ultimatum of the Great Powers. Bethlen said he
would remain in the prime minister’s office, and we agreed that I should go over to the French Embassy, which was just across the road from my apartment, as it was vital that at least one of us should stay free so as to be able to act if confusion were to
overcome
the country. It seemed that this should be me who might be most effective since I was on good terms with the Allied ambassadors.

This is how we parted that evening.

I called upon Ambassador Foucher, who declared himself most flattered and said that he would cover me with the Tricolour to make sure I was well protected. He at once gave the necessary orders, and that evening I brought over a change of clothes and linen, some few personal objects … and, of course, quantities of cigarettes.

Early the next morning I was woken by my old valet, András Szabó, with the news that the people in the market were saying that there had been some fighting at Budaörs
103
. I dressed
hurriedly
and went at once up to the Royal Palace.

The prime minister was with Horthy, so I went to join them. I found them in one of the halls on the first floor sitting at a long table was covered with maps. Pál Nagy, who commanded the army, was with them, as were one or two officers of the General Staff. Near the entrance on the other side of the hall stood Horthy’s
chef de cabinet
, Albert Bartha, leaning against the wall. He was a pitiful sight, very pale with eyes almost closed, and his expression was one not of fear but of bottomless misery and despair.

I stepped up to the table. Pál Nagy was making his report. He said that we now had enough troops at Budaörs, but that the soldiers were reluctant to use their weapons. The infantry had fired a few shots, but our defence would crumble at once if the other side opened fire. Having said this, he left to return to the silent firing line.

Horthy was very calm and resolute. I never saw him as calm as he was then. He was a good soldier: there was no doubt about it. This is how he must have been at the battle of Otranto when, already wounded, he drew the fire of the entire Italian and English fleets on his flagship, the
Navarra
, so as to give time for
his own weaker fleet to get away. Bethlen was the same as he always was: cool and matter-of-fact. They were now discussing which general to send over to talk to the rebellious troops and explain to them that by acting as they did they were forswearing their given oaths. They were all volunteers, recently recruited, and they had made their oath of allegiance to Horthy. The
officer
to be chosen should also try to contact the king and offer him a ceasefire so as to put a stop to this fratricidal struggle while negotiations took place.