large retinues; many others immigrated from Italy and Greece, so that the high nobility of Hungary, already at the beginning of the conversion of the Magyars, had a large infusion of foreign blood. It may be added that the entire clergy of that day was composed of Czechs, Germans, and Italians. The ground was, therefore, duly prepared, and it wanted only the iron hand of a resolute and wise ruler to achieve the work of conversion, and to accomplish the great task of transforming a formerly warlike and nomadic nation into a Christian and peaceful community. This ruler was King Stephen I.
CHAPTER VI.
ST. STEPHEN, THE FIRST KING OF HUNGARY.
997–1038.
King Stephen led the Hungarian nation from the darkness of paganism into the light of Christianity, and from the disorders of barbarism into the safer path of western civilization. He induced his people to abandon the fierce independence of nomadic life, and assigned to them a place in the disciplined ranks of European society and of organized states. Under him, and through his exertions, the Hungarian people became a western nation. Never was a change of such magnitude, and we may add such a providential change, accomplished in so short a time, with so little bloodshed, and with such signal success as this remarkable transformation of the Hungarian people. The contemporaries of this great and noble man, those who assisted him in guiding the destinies of the Hungarian nation, gave him already full credit for the wise and patriotic course pursued by him, and the Hungarian nation of the present day still piously and gratefully cherishes his memory. To the Hungarians of to-day, although eight and a half centuries removed from St. Stephen, his form continues to be a living one, and they still fondly refer to his exalted example, his acts, his opinions, and admonitions, as worthy to inspire and admonish the young generations in their country.
This need be no matter for surprise, for at no period of Hungary’s history has her political continuity been interrupted in such a way as to make her lose sight of the noble source from which its greatness sprang. No doubt a complete change has taken place in the political and social order, in the course of so many centuries, but the state structure, however modified, still rests upon the deep and sure foundations laid by the wisdom of her first king. One day in the year, the 20th of August—called St. Stephen’s day—is still hallowed to his memory. On that day his embalmed right hand is carried about with great pomp and solemnity, in a brilliant procession, accompanied by religious ceremonies, through ancient Buda, and shown to her populace. The kingdom of Hungary is called the realm of St. Stephen to this day, the Hungarian kings are still crowned with the crown of St. Stephen, and the nation acknowledges only him to be its king whose temples have been touched by the sacred crown. The Catholic Church in Hungary although it no more occupies its former pre-eminent position in the state, still retains enough of power, wealth, and splendor to bear ample testimony to the lavish liberality of St. Stephen. Thus the historian meets everywhere with traces of his benignant activity, and whilst the fame and saintliness of the great king have surrounded his name with a luminous halo in the annals of his nation, that very brilliancy has prevented from coming down to posterity such mere terrestrial and every-day details as would assist in drawing his portrait. The grand outlines of his form detach themselves vividly and sharply from the dark background of his age—but there is a lack of contemporary accounts which would help to fill up these outlines, and the legends of the succeeding generations, which make mention of him, can but ill supply this want, for they regard in him the saint only, and not the man. His deeds alone remain to guide us in the task of furnishing a truthful picture of the founder of his country, and well may we apply to him the words of Scripture, that the tree shall be known by its fruit.
Stephen was born in Gran (Esztergom), the first and most ancient capital of Hungary, about 969, at a time when his father had not yet succeeded to the exalted position of ruler over Hungary, and a magnificent memorial chapel in the Roman style of the tenth century, erected there, marks the event of his birth in that place. His mother Sarolta, Geyza’s first wife, was the daughter of that Gyula, Duke of Transylvania, who, whilst upon a mission to Constantinople, in 943, had embraced the Christian faith and subsequently endeavored to spread it at home. Thus a Christian mother watched prayerfully at the cradle of young Stephen, and in early childhood, already, the tender mind of the boy was guided by the pious Count of San Severino. Adalbert, the Archbishop of Prague, who sought a martyr’s death and subsequently won the martyr’s crown, introduced him to the community of professing Christians. With his wife Gisella, a Bavarian princess, at his side, he took his place among the Western rulers as their kinsman. While his long reign proved him to be true to his country and his nation, yet the paganism of the ancient Hungarians was quite foreign to his soul.
After the first half of the tenth century religious ideas began to exercise a more powerful influence in Europe than before. The great movement which originated in the monastery of Cluny, in France, held out to the world the promise of a new salvation. Men of extraordinary endowments began again to proclaim with evangelical enthusiasm the mortification of the flesh, in order to exalt the soul, and the suppression of earthly desires for the purpose of restoring the true faith to its pristine glory. They insisted that the shepherd of the faithful souls, the Church, should be freed from all earthly fetters and interests, for, just as the soul was above the body, so was the Church superior to the worldly communities. The Church therefore, they taught, must be raised from her humiliating position, her former dependence changed into a state of the most complete freedom. As a consequence, the visible head of the Church, the Pope, could not be allowed to remain the servant of the head of the worldly power, the emperor, for it was the former that Providence had entrusted with the care of the destinies and happiness of humanity. These ideas spread triumphantly and with incredible rapidity throughout all Europe. They were heralded by a sort of prophetic frenzy; and soul-stirring fanaticism followed in their train. The age of asceticism, long past and become an object almost of contempt, was rescued from oblivion and revived. The despised body was again subjected to tortures and vexations, and the purified soul longed for the destruction of its own earthly existence in order to soar on high freed from mundane trammels. It was the miraculous age of hermits, saints, and martyrs who made it resound with their wailing and weeping, changing this home of dust into a valley of tears, so that the soul transported to the regions of bliss might appear in greater splendor to the dazzled eyes of the earthly beholder. The popes, moreover, riding high on the unchained waves, guided the Church through the tempest of the newly awakened religious passions, with a watchful eye and steady persistence toward one end—the exaltation of the papal power over that of the emperors. At the end of the tenth century Pope Sylvester II. was the representative of the spirit of the age clamoring for the aggrandizement of the papal power, and Otto III. represented in opposition to him the imperial power, undermined by the new ideas. Since the overthrow of the Western Roman empire the world had not been called upon to witness a contest of greater import than the impending struggle between these two rival powers. The great upheaval, indeed, which was to shake Europe to its very centre, did not take place until half a century later, but the seeds, from which the war of ecclesiastical investiture, the stir of the crusades, and the universality of the papal power were to spring, were already scattered throughout the soil which had lain barren through many centuries.
This was the age which gave birth to Stephen and in which he was educated, but his exalted mind rejected the exaggerations, eccentricities, and errors of his time and accepted only its noble sentiments and ideas. His sober-mindedness was equal to his religious enthusiasm, and as his innate energy exceeded both, he left it to religious visionaries to indulge in ascetic dreams.
