3: "From the Arrows of the Hungarians..."
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The Gesta Hungarorum was not passed on for us in its original form,
but this ancient chronicle about the Hungarians can be reconstructed fairly well from
various transcriptions. One of its episodes tells about how Árpád dispatched an
ambassador spy by the name of Kusid, the son of Künd, to the interior of the Carpathian
Basin.
"When Kusid reached the middle of Hungary and descended to the Danube region, he
found the place delightful, the land all around good and fertile, and its streams and
meadows splendid. He had a liking for it. Then he went to the prince of the domain, named
Svatopluk, who governed after Attila. He hailed him in the name of his people and stated
the reason why he came. Hearing this, Svatopluk rejoiced greatly because he thought they
were settlers come to cultivate the land. For this reason, he joyfully sent the ambassador
back. Filling his flask with water from the Danube, loading his goatskin with meadow
grass, and taking a sample of the black sandy soil, Kusid returned to his people. As he
recounted everything he had heard and seen to them, they rejoiced greatly. He showed them
the flask of water, the soil, and the grass. Tasting them with their tongues, they saw
that the soil was very good, the water sweet, and that such grasses grew in the pastures
as the ambassador had told them. Surrounded by his people, Árpád filled his drinking
horn with the water from the Danube, and, in front of all the Hungarians, he asked for the
grace of Almighty God on the horn, that the Lord grant them that land forever... Then they
sent the same ambassador back to the fore-named prince by general agreement and sent the
prince in payment for his land a large white horse with an Arabian saddle gilded with gold
and a gold halter. Seeing these, the prince rejoiced even more, for he believed they had
sent them for the land as prospective settlers. But the ambassador asked the prince to
provide land, grass, and water. Smiling at this, the prince said, 'Take as much as you
want for this gift!' And so the ambassador returned to his people. At this, Árpád and
the seven chiefs invaded Pannonia, not as immigrants but as the lawful owners of the land
in perpetuity. Then they dispatched another ambassador to the prince, sending him off with
this message: 'Árpád and his men tell you not to remain any longer in any way on the
land they have purchased, for they bought your land with a horse, your grass with a
halter, and your water with a saddle, and because of your penury and greediness you have
yielded your land, grass, and water over to them.' When the message was delivered to the
prince, he spoke as follows: 'Beat that horse to death with a club, throw the halter into
the meadow, and cast the saddle into the waters of the Danube!' At this, the ambassador
said: 'What loss would this bring to our lord? If you beat the horse to death, you provide
food for his dogs; if you throw the golden halter into the grass, his men will come upon
it at harvest time; if you cast the golden saddle into the Danube, his fishermen will pull
it to the bank and take it home! Whoever owns the land, the grass, and the water, he owns
everything!' Hearing this and fearing the Hungarians, the prince quickly assembled an army
and called upon his friends for help, and gathering these together, he started off to do
battle with them. In the meantime, the Hungarians arrived beside the Danube, and at the
break of day they arose on a lovely field to do battle. But the Lord's support was with
the Hungarians, at the sight of whom the fore-named prince took flight. But the Hungarians
pursued him to the Danube, and there in his fright he cast himself into the Danube and he
drowned in its swift waters."
This historical tale about how Árpád outwitted Svatopluk, the Slavic prince, with a
deceitful give-and-take agreement eerily resembles the one about how a couple of centuries
later, the whites swarming over America duped the poor red skinned Indians. But can there
be any kind of historical basis for the tale about the white horse?
Thus did the Hungarians reach the place where they have lived to this very day. Now let
us rephrase in a declarative mode what we had posed as a question in the introduction-at
least to the extent that it is possible.
In 895, the main forces of the Etelköz Hungarians, as allies of Byzantium or as
mercenaries -which amounts to the same thing- were waging war on their former Levedian
comrades, the Bulgarians, west of the Black Sea. Meanwhile, a Pecheneg attack -instigated,
perhaps, by the Bulgarians- was launched against the Khazar Kaganate, and hearing news of
the assault, those remaining in their Etelköz quarters suddenly headed off and moved
across the northern passes of the Carpathians into the basin protected by the ring of
mountains. The main forces did not return to the Etelköz but also headed for the
Carpathian Basin, almost from the opposite direction. These two troop movements indicated
the existence of a well-established communication link and forced but planned military
operations.
This idea also refutes the romantic notion that the Hungarians were purely a battered,
fleeing army of males who, their wives and children having perished, had to generate their
own bloodlines in the new homeland with women they took as slaves. It is not only our
sources that contradict this idea, but also the fact that the conquerors of the Carpathian
Basin have immediately devoted themselves to bold new adventures, indicating a secure home
front. At the same time the Hungarians dislodged by the great migrations and having
reached the Carpathian Basin, in a manner unique among th& traditionally nomadic
peoples (the Scythians, the Sarmatians, the Huns, the Avars, the Pechenegs, the Cumans,
and the Tatars), did not assimilate, disperse, or lose their language; instead, they were
able to found a national state which has endured to this very day.
About 895, various Slavic peoples on the perimeter of the Carpathian Basin and the Avar
population in its lowlands were the decisive elements, while the power of the Moravians
from the northwest, of the Franks (Bavarians) formerly in Pannonia from the west, and of
the Bulgarians from the south exerted-what? At this time "do-minion" in this
region was not very efficacious. Sometimes it signified little more than the fact that the
leaders of agricultural village communities living permanently in a place and bound to the
soil by their mode of life reinforced their positions through some tribute paid in kind
for first one and then for another of the chiefs of more mobile and warlike peoples. The
burial grounds of the age, mingling bones and artifacts, clearly reveal the continuity or
changeability of power and might, ethnicity and culture, and the diverse variety of the
motifs of permanent coexistence and assimilation.
Árpád the Conqueror's entire army consisted of about 20 thousand horsemen. Since we
can assume that there were four or five peasants, as well as artisans, serving as
support personnel behind each warrior horseman, the total number of Hungarians can be
estimated at 100 thousand families, or about half a million persons. On the other hand,
researchers put the local population of the Carpathian Basin at not more than 100 to 200
thousand inhabitants. Though these estimates are based on reliable archaeological,
settlement geographical and demographic data, the writer of these lines, nevertheless,
thinks of more balanced proportions. Perhaps it was more their own dynamics than their
superior numbers that gave the Hungarians their strength. Also the conquerors' cautious
behavior suggests that at first they were not as confident of their own abilities as they
were entitled to be, given their two to two and a half times superior number of
inhabitants and their warlike traditions. The hypothesis that the late Avars living in the
region before 895 were also Hungarian ethnics (or users of the language) and thus formed,
so to say, the advance guard of the Hungarian conquerors is not provable. Still less
believable is the romantic postulate, based on a close Hun-Hungarian kinship constructed
at a later time, according to which the Székely guarding the frontiers of Transylvania
and of southwest Transdanubia (Göcsej) were descendants of kinfolk who had lived there
since the time of the Huns, the people of the Hun Prince Csaba, one of Attila's sons. On
the other hand, we cannot preclude the possibility that during the earlier marauding raids
small fragments of the Hungarians remained in the Carpathian Basin who then helped
Árpád's Hungarians.
No matter how small a kernel of truth is concealed in the tale of the white horse, in
the legend of the subjugation of the Slavs through trickery, one thing is certain: the
movement of the Hungarians inside the Carpathian Basin slackened for a couple of years.
First they only reached the Danube; it was only after five years, near the end of the
century, that they took possession of earlier Pannonia to the west of the former Roman limes
-the chronicles at times extend this name mistakenly to all of the Carpathian Basin. At
this time, however, their mobility returned. Hardly a year passed without their swift,
ransoming armies appearing in ever more distant regions. Their horses waded in the waters
of the Baltic Sea in the north and in the Channel in the west; they reached the middle of
the Iberian Peninsula in the southwest; they cast a glance at Sicily from the Italian
Peninsula in the south; on Greek soil they left only the Peloponnesus untouched; and the
Bosporus barred their way in the east. They cut their way through peoples, countries, and
borders "like a knife through butter."
The pagan legendarium of these Hungarians is full of deeds about their own
glory: about Botond the Champion, who smashed the iron gate of Byzantium with his own
mace; about Chief Lél, or Lehel, who, having fallen prisoner and awaiting execution, slew
the German prince Conrad, saying: "You will precede me and be my slave in the here
after", in accord with the pagan belief that those whom warriors kill become their
slaves "on the other side". Monastic annals of aggrieved individuals are also
filled with their unholy atrocities. They are themselves from Hell, the breed of Satan, a
scourge of God. A friar of St. Gallen, though not as a witness but years after the event,
presented an account of the Hungarians' encampment in his monastery in 926 with such vivid
liveliness that, whether he writes something bad or not so bad about them, we must accept
it. What makes his history particularly believable is that while the friars of St. Gallen
fled in panic, one of them stayed there because he had not received leather for his
sandals. Ekkehard, the chronicler, called this fellow member, named Heribald, a half-wit.
He is our witness. Let us not smile: the simple-minded speak the truth.
"At last they burst in, with their quivers and loaded with menacing javelins and
arrows. They hunt through every room carefully, and it is certain they show no mercy to
sex or age. They find him alone, just standing unperturbed in the middle of the room. They
marvel at him: what can he want? why does he not flee? Meanwhile, the officers order their
forces; ready to kill, not to use their weapons, and they interrogate him with the help of
interpreters. When they become aware that they are dealing with a half-witted freak of
nature, they all laugh and spare his life.
"They do not even touch St. Gallen's stone altar, for they had suffered
disappointment in such things previously, never finding anything more than bones and
ashes."
"Two of them climb up the belfry in the belief that the rooster on its peak is
made of gold, that it could not be the god of place with this name unless it was made of
precious metal. (Gallus = rooster.) One of them leans out more sharply to force
it off with his lance, falls to the courtyard from the height, and is killed outright.
Meanwhile, the other climbed to the top of the eastern facade to desecrate the god's
shrine, and while he prepared himself to empty his bowels there, he tumbled backwards and
crushed himself to death..."
"The officers take over the courtyard and carouse copiously. Heribald also gorges
himself so much that, as he himself kept saying afterwards, he never lived better. And
since, according to their custom, they sat down on the grass without chairs to eat,
Heribald brought chairs for himself and a cleric taken prisoner. After having gnawed and
torn the sacrificial cattle's shoulders and other half-raw parts solely with their teeth,
without knives, the others kept tossing the gnawed bones at each other in sport. Everyone,
without exception, drank as much wine as he wanted, which was placed in full buckets in
the middle. After they became heated with wine, they began shouting frightfully to their
gods, and they forced the cleric and the half-wit to do the same. And the cleric, since he
knew their language well, which was why they let him live, shouted with them as hard as he
could. But when he had behaved madly enough in their language, he began the antiphony on
the Holy Cross tearfully, beginning with 'Bless us'-which Heribald also sang with him,
though his voice was very hoarse. (The feast of the Holy Cross was to be the next day.) At
the prisoners' strange song, all who were there crowded together, and releasing {heir
jollity, they danced and wrestled in front of the leaders. Some clashed with weapons to
demonstrate how skilled they were in military science."
With this sentence, let us leave our brave Friar Heribald to himself, who, perhaps, was
not so simple-minded after all. Skill in military science-this was one of the key maxims
of the Hungarian marauding raids. Now, we have to unravel what sent this newly arrived
people time and time again on fearless attacks from their recently occupied homeland
immediately after they settled on the boundary of the western world of that time, in
between the Christians of the east and the west, in the vicinity of the parturition zone
where the formation of the European nation states was just going on, having abandoned the
region of the easily developing and disintegrating eastern "empires".
As for their warlike traditions, they are, in part, simply the routines of the eastern
nomads. Without them they could not have survived during the long and bloody wanderings of
the earlier centuries. In a curious way, they were enjoying the benefits of their late
arrival in their new environment.
Economic and social developments achieved a new level from the Leitha to the west; they
created new values and a new order. The city and the monastery, the handicraft industry
and commerce, increasingly subsisting on money, demanded security and more effective
protection of the achievements that existed under Rome before it collapsed under the
attacks of the Germanic barbarians. Now, however, the political framework and the power
essential to it were missing.
Byzantium was the frightening example of ossification, of centuries' long decline
caused by ruinous dogmatism. In the west, technical development, Christian thought, and
feudal society -the feudal subordination and superordination- transformed mental attitudes
just as it did the way of life, and weaponry or the methods of waging war. Yet all this
was endangered by a series of challenges by greedy Arabs (Saracens and Moors) from the
south, by Normans (Vikings) attacking with their swift boats from the north, and first by
Avars and later by Hungarian light cavalrymen from the east. Europe reacted slowly.
Fragmented and quarreling over the spoils of the collapsed parts of the former Roman
Empire, it not only offered itself unwittingly to its extortioners but even summoned them
as allies in their anarchic struggles against one another.
At this time, the half-nomadic Hungarians could no longer content themselves with rich
meadows, well stocked streams, and fertile lowlands. Their agriculturists, we know, did
not participate in raiding parties; most of these campaigns commenced in the spring, the
time of the greatest agricultural activity, and rarely ended before the harvest. Thus the
marauders constituted the remaining one-fifth of the population. Did they, perhaps, have
to abandon the nomadic life in their new smaller homeland? No. The sharp division of
society had already taken place outside the Carpathians, with the elevation of a leading
class that was so much the master of the tillers of the soil that its power was based on
strong military retinues, in addition to material wealth.
These military retinues knew virtually no time of peace. It was not solely bravado and
hot blood -the maintenance of warlike knowledge- that impelled the retinues and their
leaders. With respect to sheer existence, the hoeing and plowing agriculture,
horticulture, and still rather nomadic animal husbandry of this period were more than
adequate to meet the needs of the entire population. But the leading classes' aspirations
for power and fondness for pomp required riches and money, nor did the large military
retinues content themselves only with the small portion that was tossed like a bone to
them from the surplus yields of the new homeland.
The most dependable source of income for Árpád and his fellow officers, and for their
descendants, was the regular annual tax exacted from neighboring peoples who were more
peacefully inclined and settled, or who, for whatever reason, were see king military
allies. Yet, for this, they had to display military strength, in order to cause fear among
the neighbors in case they lagged in paying their taxes. And if this display of military
power was insufficient, they had to strike hard and bloodily. The leading classes
preferred first the certain and enormous peace taxes collected in a lump sum and second
the military pay handed directly to them. On the other hand, the common soldiers in the
military retinues were, with reason, more pleased with ransom and punitive campaigns when
robbery was permitted; after all, on such occasions, most of the plunder wound up in their
own knapsacks; but they also valued mercenary military expeditions, during which they had
to spare the land of the employer's people but could pillage elsewhere at will.
For two generations, hardly a year passed without larger or smaller Hungarian armies
being engaged in military ventures, sometimes strictly on their own but mostly on call.
And in today's Czech, German, French, and Italian territories or in the Balkans there was
scarcely a province, principality, kingdom, or other national structure whose leaders did
not call for their occasional military assistance at one time or other and endure their
attacks in service to their adversaries at another time. They seemed to appear on schedule
on numerous military routes in many distant regions. Their guides came from the party that
hired them, and they crossed most rivers peacefully-until they reached the lands of the
next enemy. The great distances covered, the many battles they fought successfully, the
ample ransom, the large number of prisoners -whom they did not often take home but
released immediately for a ransom or sold as slaves, not really needing the manpower of
prisoners of war (slaves) at home- all this proves that from the end of the ninth century
to the middle of the tenth, the military retinues of the Hungarian leading classes
obtained, in addition to some systematic taxation, substantial additional income by
regularly hiring out their battle prowess.
Now then, what advantages derived from the lateness of their arrival? The Hungarians'
mode of Asian nomadic warfare -the division of the army into several parts its lightning
fast movement, the deceptive retreat, its very powerful bows, and its far-soaring arrows-
surprised foot soldiers accustomed to the more cumbersome, closed battle formations, to
moving on large horses, and to heavier weapons, and it muddled the inhabitants of cities
and castles who often sought protection singly. On the other hand, their enemies were only
slightly able to exploit their weaknesses -the fact that they were less able to wage war
in the winter, that rain slackened their bowstrings, that they dispersed to pillage, that
they had to lug their booty with them. Perhaps the Hungarians faced their greatest danger
when their friends and foes suddenly regrouped themselves and, amid the disturbed power
relations, the road back to the homeland became more difficult for armies roving so far
away.
From the middle of the tenth century on, the dynamics of the incursions could no longer
be supported. The employers -the rulers and aspiring rulers of Europe gradually realized
their own stupidity. Politically, they recognized that by constantly weakening each
other's people and economy through destruction by the roaming Hungarians, they were all
ruining themselves. Militarily, they recognized that the warfare of Hungarian light
cavalrymen was easy to see through and vulnerable, that this voracious people wedged in
Central Europe could be tamed by answering trick with trick, by attacking the dispersed
forces separately, not isolated in towns but with united forces.
Contrary to the contentions of western chronicles, it was not one and not two battles
lost, not primarily the defeat inflicted by the German Otto I at Augsburg in 955 that
staggered the marauding Hungarians. The victors exaggerated this news because of their
intoxication with the triumph and the defeated because they wanted to calm the war fever
back home. Did the ideals of gentle Christianity begin to exert influence on pagan
traditions? Cause and effect were reversed. The wiser leaders of the Hungarian tribes and
tribal confederations themselves awoke to what those they had blithely taxed until then or
had served with blood for pay had suddenly realized to their dismay. The realization was
mutual and affected both sides. The restless, full-blooded Hungarians must be settled
among the ranks of the more prosperous peoples within the more secure borders of Christian
Europe. Or they must be destroyed. And we must become a part of a Europe with a strange
religion. Or the enemy will destroy us.
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