Infamous Lady: The True Story of Countess Erzsébet Báthory (15 page)

      Sárvár Judge, Gergely Páztory (a man who would witness the Countess’ Last Will and Testament) had an odd encounter with henchman, Janós Ficzkó, the boy kept on staff by the Countess to assist with torturing and burying girls. While in Csejthe, one of the judge’s servants got into a fight with Ficzkó. When Ficzkó became enraged and began beating the servant mercilessly, the judge stepped in. Ficzkó immediately ran inside to the Lady to complain.

      Countess Báthory came out. Calling to the judge, she demanded, “Why have you upset Ficzkó?”

      The judge answered, “Because he is a bad person who hit my servant. If my servant does something wrong, I can punish him for it.”

      The judge did not stop there but, rather, levied an accusation against Her Ladyship: “I am rather surprised that Your Grace keeps such a bad man in your court. You should have a chat with him about the things he sees and hears around here. Just now he spoke of things, which, if Your Grace knew, would certainly not be good to publicize. He just told us that five dead girls would be hidden under the hemp!”

      The Countess paused and then said, “Tomorrow I will ask him what he said.”

      According to the judge, the mistress summoned Ficzkó the next day, “but said not a single word and asked him nothing, but rather talked about other things.”

      The judge went on to say that, during the war, when they had fled to Sárvár, he saw an unsealed crate in the Lady’s house, and it was said that the dead girls would be shut in there. Henchman Ilona Jó, who would later be executed for complicity, was actually taking the box out from the castle when a nobleman from Zopor, named Sebestyén Orbán, asked her, “What is really in that box, Ms. Ilona?”

      She is said to have replied, “Ask not, on my soul, your Honor!”

      The judge added that, once when he was traveling with the Countess as part of her entourage, they took overnight accommodations. There, he saw a bag packed with small chains and locks. When the loaded bag was taken from the carriage and brought into the house, he asked Ilona Jó, “For what do we need these chains and locks?”

      Her reply was simple: “At night, all the girls are put in chains.”

Members of the area nobility also made allegations. Lady Anna Welykey (who, herself, would be accused of procuring girls for the Countess) recounted that she had once asked Lady Widow Nádasdy to bring her girls around again so as to introduce them to the local aristocracy. Countess Báthory is said to have replied, “Ah, how could I trust or introduce these girls after so many bad and terrible things are told far and wide about them.” She then turned to Lady Welykey and added, “Those whores lie.”

But what was perhaps most shocking were allegations of exactly how these girls were being tortured and killed: washed with and made to roll on the floor in nettles; pins stuck into their lips and under the finger nails; needles jammed into their shoulders and arms; floggings on the breasts while held in chains; their hands, arms and abdomens scorched with burning irons; chunks of skin wrenched from their backs with pliers; noses, lips, tongues and fingers pierced with needles; mouths forced shut with clamps; flesh cut out of the buttocks and from between the shoulders, then cooked and served to them; flesh and private parts singed with candles; knives plunged into arms and feet; hands crushed and maimed; fingers cut off with scissors and sheers; red-hot pokers shoved up vaginas; bodies beaten to death with cudgels; lashings until flesh fell from the bones; and girls made to stand naked in the cold, doused with water, or submerged up to the neck in icy rivers.

In a matter of weeks, in fact, the entire “school” had been wiped out. Instead of using her usual excuse of an epidemic, this time Erzsébet concocted an elaborate explanation: one of the girls had murdered all the rest because of her greed for their jewelry. The child later committed suicide when Erzsébet’s servants discovered what she had done.

This time, the Countess had gone too far. Nearly a dozen complaints from the families flooded both the Palatine’s and King’s Courts, specifically accusing the Countess of torturing and murdering young girls from the Hungarian aristocracy. When news reached the King that noble girls had been murdered, he had what he needed to push for a criminal conviction.

16

THE PROCEEDINGS AGAINST THE COUNTESS (1610)

By 1610, time was running out for Countess Báthory. Ironically, the man most responsible for whether she would live or die for her crimes was not the king or emperor but, rather, her family confidante, György Thurzó. Thurzó came from an old and distinguished line. Together with the Fuggers Dynasty of Augsburg, the Thurzós were one of the wealthiest families of the 15th century, controlling the vast mining industry of central Slovakia. Unfortunately, by the mid-16
^th
century, the Thurzó lineage was on the verge of dying out. György Thurzó’s father, who served as a Catholic bishop (although not ordained) in Nitra, eventually left the Church, converted to Lutheranism and married in order to preserve the line and consolidate the family fortune.

      György Thurzó received a magnificent education in Vienna, studying, in fact, with companion, Prince Ernst Hapsburg. We know that Thurzó could read and write in Hungarian, Latin, German, and Slovak, was versed in the humanities, and studied law. Although raised a Lutheran, György Thurzó was politically savvy enough to know his interests would be well served by maintaining good relations with the Catholic Hapsburgs. He also believed that the Hapsburgs comprised the only force realistically capable of overpowering the invading Turks.

      When Thurzó finally rose to the status of Palatine in 1609, the same post that Tamás Nádasdy had held, he became second in command to the king. The palatine functioned like a governor or prime minister, representing the king in all political matters and holding appropriate judicial as well as military rank. Amidst the political and religious turmoil of the time, Thurzó would become well known for his diplomacy and ability to draw compromise out of opposing parties. He would certainly need to bring all of his skill to bear in the coming months with Her Ladyship, the Widow Nádasdy.

      By February of that year, anonymous complaints and rumors of Countess Erzsébet Báthory’s torturing and killing, including the murder of noble girls, had reached both György Thurzó and King Mátyás himself. Of all the nobles and renowned clergy who knew of the Countess’ activities, the parties who brought an actual written report to the authorities were probably the most unlikely of all: an elderly country priest, recently retired, and his relatively inexperienced replacement.

      Like other clergymen in his situation, the elderly pastor at Csejthe, 90-year-old Rev. András Barosius (Berthoni), was concerned over the Countess’ bizarre and repeated requests for funerals. When his questions went unanswered, he began to keep a record of the bodies, and this document eventually made its way into the hands of both Palatine and King. Erzsébet had dealt with this type of situation before at Sárvár, under Pastor Magyari. In those days, however, Ferenc Nádasdy was there to protect her. Whether through charm, reputation or bribery, the Count had always managed to extricate himself and his wife from harm, appeasing the clergy every time questions arose over mysterious deaths.

      Now, however, the Countess was on her own. And this time, the clergy was beginning to speak out and stand up to her wherever the killings were taking place. At Keresztúr, for example, where girls had been killed at Erzsébet’s estate, Pastor Pyrethräus (or Pythiräus or Piterius) flatly refused to bury the continuous stream of maidens who had died of “unknown and mysterious causes.” Despite the Countess’ threats, he stood his ground. In return, she ordered her servants to bury the girls secretly at night in the town cemetery.

      At Csejthe, Pastor Barosius updated his in-coming successor, Reverend János Ponikenusz, on the strange events and rumors going on there, as well. Ponikenusz was also made aware of his predecessor’s continuous arguments with the Countess over the death of so many young girls. Each time the elderly man tried to speak up, the Countess would snap, “Do not ask how they died. Just bury them!”

      Intimidated, Pastor Barosius complied, but he began drawing up his report and documenting all of the bodies that had been buried in secret. In one entry that shocked even György Thurzó, the pastor wrote that on a single night he had buried no less than nine virgins, all of whom had died of the same “unknown and mysterious causes.”

      When Ponikenusz took over at Csejthe, he decided to see for himself what was happening. Following up on a rumor, he went down to explore a series of underground tunnels that connected the church and castle. The Countess and her staff used these tunnels for storage where they housed heirlooms, Ottoman treasures, wines, and documents. Along with the crypt of Count Kristóf Orságh, one-time owner of Csejthe Castle, Rev. Ponikenusz found something else far more ghastly. Amidst what he described as “an unbearable stench,” he discovered nine unsealed boxes that contained the remains of recently mutilated girls.

      Upon discovering the bodies in the tunnels, he hurried back to the church to write a letter to his superior, the Very Rev. Élias Lányi: “Oh such terrible deeds,” he wrote, “such unheard of cruelties! In my opinion there has never existed a worse killer under the sun. But I must not go on, for my heart is bleeding and I cannot speak any more.”

      Ponikenusz attempted to send the letter, but it was promptly intercepted by the Countess’ staff. Upon learning that the letter had been captured, he feared the worst for himself and tried to escape out of town. Castle staff went after him, however, and sent him back to the church with a stern warning. The bodies, meanwhile, were taken away to Leseticz for burial, according to witness, Tamás Zima.

      It was at this point that Ponikenusz began plotting how to get his letters, as well as his own newly-found information from Pastor Barosius’ disturbing report, to the authorities without being discovered. Ponikenusz evidently figured out how to do it, and the report was secretly delivered to Palatine György Thurzó. It is likely that a second copy was also delivered to King Mátyás II, for it is the King who specifically demanded an investigation into allegations that had reached his Court regarded certain “inhuman and ferocious acts” of Erszébet Báthory. The King was especially displeased that some of these acts had been committed against daughters of the nobility. As Palatine, György Thurzó had full authority to act in the King’s name and was ordered to convene an investigation.

      For Thurzó, this must have been delicate: he had been given Ferenc Nádasdy’s deathbed request to care for the Lady Widow Nádasdy and her children. In addition to his friendship with the late Count, György Thurzó and Countess Báthory were also personally close. Correspondence indicates that they referred to each other as “cousin,” attended their respective children’s weddings and, in general, kept company together during the holidays. Countess Báthory was also cordial with Thurzó’s young wife, Erzsébet Czobor. Given her high station, he knew that it would take a special act of Parliament even to bring formal charges against the Countess. György Thurzó probably hoped to appease the King, quiet things down and then let the matter die. Letters to Erzsébet’s son-in-law, as well as public statements, indicate that Thurzó initially planned to put the Countess away in a convent. György Thurzó was not naïve, however; he also knew that the Crown had a personal interest in seeing Erzsébet Báthory convicted criminally. Should that happen, the King’s debt to her could be cancelled and, possibly, her lands ceded to him.

      It is difficult to truly understand Thurzó’s relationship with the Countess: some commentators have vilified him as a man who sought only to betray and deprive her of her property. And yet, history does not bear this out: at all times, Thurzó conducted his coming dealings, albeit secret ones, with both Báthory and Nádasdy family members and, in fact, worked hard to make certain that neither King nor Church confiscated their properties. Other than protecting the interests of fellow Protestants, Thurzó does not appear to have benefited, at least financially, from his pending prosecution of the Countess.

      Others have argued the opposite, claiming that Thurzó and the Countess shared a romantic relationship and that he did all in his power to protect her. Yet history does not demonstrate this fully, either: as Lord Palatine, Thurzó had a job to do, and both Monarchy and Parliament were watching him carefully. While, without question, he worked tirelessly to spare the Countess from the death penalty, Thurzó ultimately sentenced her to life imprisonment. He also testified in court as to having caught her in the act of torturing and murdering servants, declared publicly that she did not deserve to breathe air or see light, and referenced her with epithats such as, “wild animal,” “bestial,” “damned,” “bloody,” “godless,” and “cursed”; hardly the words or actions of a lover.

      We do know, however, that Thurzó placed his confidence in the Hapsburgs as the only force viable enough to conquer the marauding Turks. While the Transylvanians maintained a relative form of independence from both Hapsburgs and Turks, their loyalties swayed back and forth between the two opposing forces depending on their own self-interests. Erzsébet Báthory’s relatives, Voivods of Transylvania, were now advocating a rebellion against the Hapsburgs and a new alliance with the Turks. This made Thurzó nervous. In 1608, Erzsébet began financing her cousin, Gábor, placing her in a dangerous position; her loyalty to the Crown was now at question. Prior to this, her brother István Báthory had educated and raised Gábor at his court and, upon Count Báthory’s death, also left the young man with considerable wealth and weaponry.

      Thurzó truly believed that Erzsébet’s cousins, Gábor and Zsigmond, were stirring up a dangerous form of trouble that would ultimately threaten the interests of Hungarian landlords and nobles like himself; Gábor Báthory, in fact, would soon declare war on the Hapsburgs. And Erzsébet made it clear, on more than one occasion, that she supported her cousins against the King. That said, there was motivation on Thurzó’s part, whether personally or as Palatine of Hungary, to curtail the power of the Báthory family in the interest of the nation.