Infamous Lady: The True Story of Countess Erzsébet Báthory (23 page)

      We realize from this letter that King Mátyás no longer has complete trust in Thurzó: he independently appointed a president over a special legal council and ordered the Countess’ interrogation with no regard to the life sentence which Thurzó pronounced.

      The Church was also weighing in on the matter. Catholic nobles lobbied the Hungarian Parliament in support of King Mátyás, expressing displeasure over the leniency shown by the Protestant Lord Palatine. Although some might have felt genuine moral outrage, a political agenda was also at work. The Thirty Years War (1618-1648) between Catholics and Protestants was looming. This struggle would eventually turn the region into a bloody wasteland, particularly in Germany, and signs of it were mounting. King Mátyás was a Catholic, and the Church desired a reunification of Catholic-held lands in western Hungary with those northern and eastern lands held mostly by Protestants, under Mátyás’ control. The Catholic Hapsburgs were putting down Protestant rebellions ruthlessly and taking away Protestant lands all across Austria. If the King played his cards right, he was next in line to become Emperor. Pleasing the Church meant a great deal to him—and that included securing Erzsébet Báthory’s vast holdings for the Catholic Hapsburgs.

      Thurzó’s replies to the King indicated a rather awkward attempt to quibble over the legalities and complexities of the case; he was buying time, of course, and he knew it. The King was determined to get his way, however, and Thurzó needed a better strategy: life imprisonment for Lady Nádasdy would not satisfy His Majesty. But Thurzó, along with the Báthory and Nádasdy families, also realized that this was now becoming a showdown between Catholic and Protestant interests: if the King could commandeer the Báthory-Nádasdy estates, then the holdings of a Protestant like Thurzó could be next.

      On a personal level, the necessary interrogation of Countess Báthory would also result in her being tortured to extract a confession. The precedent of publicly humiliating a high noble—a woman, no less—and her illustrious family could not be set. Immediately, the powerful families embarked on a letter writing campaign, aided by Thurzó, to explain to His Majesty that the interrogation and death of Lady Widow Nádasdy would not necessarily accomplish the King’s purpose; rather, Thurzó’s life sentence should remain in place.

      Probably all of Erszébet’s family members, including her children and sons-in- law, by now realized that their own property rights were also at stake, so closely tied to hers. Should the King confiscate her estate, they could lose their own holdings, including inheritances and currently held lands. In addition, a public trial and execution, including disclosure of such horrific deeds, would bring unprecedented disgrace upon both families.

      In a letter to György Thurzó dated February 12, 1611, Erzsébet’s son-in-law, Miklós Zrínyi, thanked him for his “kinsman-like goodwill” and wrote:

…
.I have received and understood your sincere letter along with the copy of the letter from His Royal Majesty to you and the copy of your answer to it. And although with sad heart and suffering I heard the news of the shameful and miserable situation of my wife's mother, Mrs. Nádasdy - in view of her immense, shameful deeds, I must confess that, regarding a penalty, you have chosen the lesser of two evils. The judgment of Your Grace served us for the better, because it has preserved our honor and shielded us from too great a shame. When, in your letters, you made known to us the will of His Royal Majesty, including punishment by horrible, judicial torture, we, her relatives, felt that we must all die of shame and disgrace. But Your Grace, as our benign, truly beloved cousin and Lord, has prevented our shame, having imposed the best kind of punishment in
perpetuo carceri inclusa delineatur
and not public punishment, which would shame all of us, including her children and the memory of her pious, blessed and good, knightly husband. We want to thank Your Grace for the rest of our lives and repay you with all our available strength; we wish to offer you a humble token of our mortal existence. We ask that you, therefore, implore His Majesty to reconsider his decision so that it is in accord with your previous verdict and to be content with your judgment and not to litigate against her in public. This would, as you can imagine, cause much shame and harm to us. By God have we placed our hope in you that you and His Majesty will decide this case in our favor, as we trust you will govern. For a more detailed discussion of this matter, I send my devout servant, Mr. András Milley, to you. I ask you as my benevolent, beloved Lord and brother, to believe his words and allow him to return to me with the desired answer. Lifelong will I repay you. May God grant Your Grace long life.

      Shortly thereafter, on February 23
^rd
, 13-year-old Pál Nádasdy also wrote a letter to Thurzó from his winter residence at Castle Kuresztúr, crafted with a brilliant legal argument that, undoubtedly, was influenced by his guardian, Megyeri (who might also have been having a change of heart now). In it, young Pál asked Thurzó for a favor on the basis of their kinship, to do all that was possible to prevent the King from punishing his mother as intended. He argued that Thurzó had already conducted sufficient discovery in the case, such that no additional interrogations were required and that any further summons would be inappropriate in lieu of the sentence. Most important, he argued, the King would stand to gain nothing: all of Erzsébet Báthory’s properties had already been distributed to her three children before the trial, thus putting it out of the King’s reach:

…
.I took from your letter what His Majesty has ordered you to do to my miserable mother. I have your response to His Majesty, and realize how often you are well disposed toward me and my sisters. God grant that we, I and my sisters and brothers-in-law, can reward your kindness by obedience from a pure heart throughout our entire lives. It is true, as you wrote to His Majesty, that the
Citatio
(court summons) should have been issued sooner and that it is now inappropriate, because Your Grace, as the country's Chief Justice, has already done enough
extentio
. It is no longer necessary to continue, since the present punishment of my poor mother is worse than death, and not necessary to proceed according to the command of His Majesty since a judgment on her life has already been made. Turning now to her property, there is no need to fear, because before her arrest, she turned it all over to the three of us. Nevertheless, we the relatives and humble subjects of His Majesty, wish to ask that your use of legal force against my mother not impose eternal shame on our family. However, we do not want to act without the knowledge and advice of Your Grace; it is not fitting. I therefore implore you, please, write us your opinion on how my sisters and I should proceed with our intercession to His Majesty so as not to cause Your Grace any grief; indeed, as we learned from your letter, which we have kept secret. I await a favorable response from you, as my beloved father and Lord. God grant you many years in good health. Castle Keresztúr, 23 February, 1611.

      Thurzó must have been intrigued; until this letter, he may not have even realized that a will was already in existence. The Palatine immediately engaged in a round of politics with legal advisors to the King and his own Protestant friends in the Hungarian Parliament. Finally, on March 30
^th
, Thurzó sent a reply letter to the King, who, meanwhile, had been pressuring him repeatedly to move forward with the interrogation of Countess Báthory. Thurzó wrote:

…
I, as Chief Judge next to Your Majesty, arranged her imprisonment after careful deliberation with the common consent of her relatives and her sons-in-law. The same Council of Lords and sitting judge confirmed for me today that I have taken the correct approach. The difficulty in this case, when weighing justice, is that it very rarely happens that highly regarded women of our time, as a result of their way of life, find themselves in such a highly alarming situation that the death penalty should be imposed on them, as well as to ask, what benefit would the government (treasury) receive in this case. Your Majesty will receive a full report on everything contained in this message upon the return of the sublime and dignified (
Magnificus ac generosus
) noble directors and their associated Council of Lords of the Court Chamber of Pressburg)….

      In support, Parliament issued a formal reply to the Catholic nobility that Thurzó had conducted the proceedings against Countess Báthory in a proper manner. On March 31, 1611, Judges Tamás Vizkelety and Ferenc Leranth composed a letter to the King, co-signed by the Learned Secretaries of the Royal House and Legal Council to the King (Council of the Hungarian Chamber). They advised His Majesty that nothing would be gained from another trial: first, it would be difficult to prove, under the law, that the Countess killed noble girls in a pre-meditated way; second, even if proven, by law the Crown was entitled to receive a maximum of only one-third of the estate of the decapitated; and third, in the case of simple murders (i.e., of low-born people), the interested parties themselves had to make the allegations against the Countess—not the prosecutor (i.e., suggesting that it would be highly unlikely, given the local people’s fear of the Countess, that they would actually step forward to make accusations against her). In addition, certain procedural errors were mentioned to the King, such as the continued taking of preliminary interrogatories—which were supposed to be kept confidential—even after they had become public knowledge.

      The lawyers of the Royal Curia concluded:

…
.However, s
ince nearly all of the judges of the Kingdom and Assessor of the Royal Court are so inclined and, thus, since we hardly have to do anything to secure a ruling, [we] recommend a mild verdict on the part of Your Majesty in consideration of the gracious, faithful and useful services of the deceased husband of this woman and her minor son and daughters, one of whom is married to the illustrious and glorious Lord Count Nikolaus Zrínyi, the other to Lord György Homonnay, both important nobles and Your Holy Majesty’s faithful servants and useful and good citizens of your country, who are against the extreme punishment of putting this woman to death, but rather beseech you to decide her punishment so as to effectively remain at life-long imprisonment, respectively….

       All of this must have only infuriated King Mátyás more; his bid at becoming Emperor could have depended on winning the matter. Possibly, he had also learned of Erzsébet’s attempts behind the scenes to depose him in collusion with her cousin, Gábor Báthory. Thus, he refused to certify Thurzó’s sentence of life imprisonment, ignored the advice of his legal counsel and, instead, reopened the case by fiat. The King ordered a new investigation, summoning Notary András of Keresztúr to call up more witnesses against the Countess, including her court officials and those from all of the areas under her administrative control, including Beckóv, Kostolány, Csejthe, and Vrobvé (Hung. Verbó).

      When completed, András of Keresztúr would submit his report in July of 1611 after questioning an incredible number of people—224 in total. The results, however, were not at all what the King desired.

19

FINAL SENTENCING

In a document dated July 28, 1611, Notary András of Keresztúr dutifully recorded the testimonies of 224 people—court officials, servants, administrators, townspeople, clergy and nobles—from all throughout Erzsébet’s vast holdings. The King also received a report of the testimonies given under torture by the Countess’ four accomplices. In sum, the results, unfortunately, were not what anyone wanted to hear—including King Mátyás.

In a shocking turn of events, these witnesses laid bare the putrid “dirty laundry” of not only the Countess, but also the outwardly illustrious Báthory-Nádasdy families and neighboring nobility, in no uncertain terms. Hungary’s beloved war hero, Ferenc Nádasdy, was exposed as a villain who brutalized servants, taught his wife bizarre torturing games, and covered up her murders; personnel from Erzsébet’s court and towns, respected squires and nobles, were accused of assisting in the murders by procuring girls (in some cases, their own relatives), engaging in a cover up, or turning a blind eye. As the allegations continued to pour out, suddenly Imre Megyeri was on the defensive: he and young Pál Nádasdy had to lobby intensively now to protect their own staff against accusations of complicity or cover up.

The King was astonished. As much as he wanted to implicate Erzsébet Báthory, he could not risk such terrible evidence against Hungary’s national hero—or against so many other nobles. That would raise the ire of too many. Desperate, he called another tribunal of witnesses to be certain of the testimony. Besides Csejthe, the worst offenses seemed to have occurred at the Báthory-Nádasdy holdings at Sárvár, Keresztúr and Lockenhaus (Leka): Mátyás next ordered Deputy Notary Mózes Cziráky to summon witnesses from those particular holdings: twelve were called, and the report completed on December 14, 1611. Those testifying came from the nobility and supposedly held the “highest credibility”; among them were star witnesses, including court officials Benedikt Deseö (no longer in the Countess’ employ) and Jakob Szilvassy, the two men who had rare permission to witness the Countess and her assistants in action.

However, the witnesses repeated exactly what had been said about the shameful goings on. No mistake had been made. At Thurzo’s repeated urgings, the King finally conceded: Countess Báthory would not be brought to public trial. Relieved, Thurzó immediately brokered a clever deal. In light of the evidence, he recommended his original sentence of
perpetuis carceribus
(perpetual/life imprisonment) rather than the death penalty. This time, however, he included a caveat to please Mátyás: legally, it would be as though Countess Erzsébet Báthory never existed. Mátyás’ debt to her was immediately cancelled, and a small portion of her lands would cede to him. Any documentation regarding the Countess, including all legal records of the incriminating proceedings, would be sealed. By order of Parliament, the name of Erzsébet Báthory would never again be spoken in polite society.