Infamous Lady: The True Story of Countess Erzsébet Báthory (24 page)

King Mátyás agreed to the terms. As a result, the Báthory and Nádasdy reputations, including Ferenc’ national honors, remained intact; Sárvár passed to Pál Nádasdy, and Erzsébet’s sons-in-law were appointed permanent administrators of her estates until Pál came of age; the lands of other Hungarian nobles were temporarily preserved against undue Catholic advances; and in 1612, the following year, King Mátyás was crowned Holy Roman Emperor.

      For everyone, the news was good—except for Countess Erzsébet. Stonemasons arrived shortly thereafter to carry out her final sentence: she was never to be let out of confinement. Legend says that she spent her final confinement in the private apartments within the tower of Castle Csejthe, although some commentators insist that she remained below in the dungeon of the keep. In any case, she was allegedly walled in with only a single space left between the bricks large enough for the passage of food, supplies, and excrement.

      Some have argued that Erzsébet’s final confinement was not literally to her tower apartment or dungeon (i.e., she was never actually bricked up inside) but, rather, that she was sentenced to perpetual house arrest where she could roam freely throughout her castle estate. We believe that during the course of the various trials and tribunals, Erzsébet was indeed subject to a much looser form of house arrest in which she had some latitude to come and go within the estate or, at least, was not yet walled into a particular space. After the December 1611 tribunal, however, Thurzó’s sentence of
perpetuis carceribus
(life/perpetual imprisonment), confirmed by both King and Parliament, was actually enforced by means of walling her up.

      One wonders what daily life was now like for Countess Báthory. Likely, during the first few months after imposition of her final sentence, she received visitors—her daughter, Katalin, for instance, who brought supplies such as candles, parchment, ink, and favorite food items. As her sons-in-law, Counts Drugeth de Homonnay and Zrínyi, assumed full responsibility for administering her estates, there must have been at least a few visits in which they or their representatives inquired after details.

We also know that György Thurzó’s wife, Erzsébet Czobor, paid more than a few visits in January of 1612. Each time that Countess Czobor visited, however, she left with more than she came: she was systematically raiding Countess Báthory’s coffers, including her jewelry. The Thurzos’daughter, Borbála, was engaged to marry Count Kristóf Erdődy in September of that year, and substantial finances were required for the wedding. The plundering was so bad, in fact, that Count Zsigmond Forgách, writing on behalf of the Supreme Court of Hungary, ordered Győrgy Thurzó to put a stop to his wife’s activities.

      Slowly, however, the visits diminished, and people began to forget about the Countess. No longer in charge of the estates, her importance faded. Of course, she continued to write letters, protesting her innocence and demanding an appeal, but no one answered. It is said that when supplies of parchment ended, she began writing on the walls.

      While by no means an ideal living condition, the Countess did have enough food, water, and air to survive: in her fifties now, she would still live another two-and-a-half years behind the wall, at an already advanced age for the time. How she spent those last years is hard to say. Eventually, however, Erzsébet herself knew the end was coming. We know that she had no great affection for her sons-in-law. As matters currently stood, upon her death both men planned to assume permanent control over the sizable properties they were administering on behalf of her two daughters.

      Thus, on July 31, 1614, three weeks before she died, two priests from the Esztergom bishopric, Imre Agriensy (Emericus Agriens) and András Kerpelich, arrived at Castle Csejthe by her request to witness and notarize an addendum to her Last Will and Testament. In this document, she reiterated that all of her property had previously been given to her three children. In particular, she wished to make clear that György Drugeth de Homonnay was not to receive anything further. Apparently, ownership of the City of Keresztúr was at issue: the Countess wanted to reiterate that her daughter, Katalin, should receive this property—not her husband, György Drugeth de Homonnay—and that appropriate legal action had been taken toward this end:

      Erzsébet’s attempts to keep property away from György Drugeth de Homonnay were likely in vain, however; a little less than three weeks later, on Thursday, August 18, 1614, 16-year-old Pál Nádasdy transferred one-third of the dominion of Csejthe and Beckov over to him.

Two days later, on the night of Sunday, August 21, 1614, Countess Erzsébet Báthory was concerned about her poor circulation. She told her bodyguard, “Look, how cold my hands are!” Her attendant told her that it was nothing and that she should simply lie down. With that, she put her pillow under her legs and then began singing with a beautiful voice. Commentators say that she passed away at two hours after midnight (2:00 a.m.), but a letter from Slanislav Thurzó to his cousin, György, states that she was found dead in the morning.

Three days later, on August 25, 1614, Stanislav Thurzó wrote to György Thurzó, in which he reported that Countess Báthory had died:

According to a servant of Pál Nádasdy who wrote a historical chronicle of Csejthe, Erzsébet was buried at the church in Csejthe (some say in a crypt beneath the church, while others claim the local cemetery), on November 25
^th
. It is said, however, that the residents soon began to complain that the “Infamous Lady” was lying under holy ground and demanded that she be removed. Erzsébet’s remains were supposedly taken back to the Báthory family estate in 1617. Where she lies today, however, is something of a mystery: in his book,
Trencin, Trnava
, J. Branecky reported that on July 7, 1938, the crypt at the Csejthe church was opened but that the Countess’ grave was not found. It is also claimed that in 1995, the Báthory family crypts at Nyírbátor were also opened. No remains of the Countess were found at that site, either. Other commentators claim that she is buried in the Lamosz Cemetery in Budapest, although there does not yet appear to be any credibility to this assertion or the existence of the site itself.

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A GLIMPSE INTO THE COUNTESS’ PERSONALITY

As a result of Hungary’s decision to declare Countess Báthory “legally dead,” as though she had never existed, no archives exist for the Báthory family, and it is likely that significant correspondence, personal items, portraits, and information regarding intimate details have been lost forever, whether forgotten, pilfered, or destroyed. Experts have nonetheless attempted to piece together more information on her character and personality, particularly from analyses of her handwriting.

      We do have her signature on the Last Will and Testament. Graphologist Klára Ácsová rendered the following opinion on it: “Partially due to her decadent nature, but also as a result of sexual dissatisfaction, sadism overcame her more and more. Her sadism might have originated in unfulfilled love because she was forced to marry somebody other than whom she loved. This broke her and initiated increasing cravings for revenge in her. She was mischievous, dangerous and harmful to her surroundings. We can equate her with Lucrezia Borgia, but Erzsébet Báthory was more realistic and deliberate. According to her handwriting, she was not schizophrenic or mad, as some of her biographers say.”

      It is possible, however, the Ácsová’s opinion was skewed. She was given only a rather poor reproduction of the original signature to study and did not have access to the entire document. Also, she knew to whom the signature belonged, and this might have clouded her objectivity. Of interest, Ácsová would be asked to render a second opinion, this time under more controlled circumstances, and her opinion changed as a result.

      Specifically, Hungarian judge Irma Szádeczky-Kardos ordered a second graphological test done for a comprehensive study. This time, the entire will document was used. To ensure impartiality, all names, dates and significant data were blacked out of the text so that the expert had no idea whose handwriting was under analysis. Ácsová was called a second time to render an opinion. Unaware that the will belonged to Erzsébet Báthory, Ácsová’s study revealed this time that the writer had a “strong, determined and self-confident personality, with a logical mind and manly character.” These qualities resulted from a strict and cold upbringing. The writer was realistic, critical, hated resistance, and stood high above others. She was not so much loved as respected – not due to her cruelty but rather for her uncompromising attitudes, strictness and frequent humiliation of others. She required order in everything. The handwriting does not reveal any signs of sadism or sexual deviation, and does not reveal any signs of pathology except for occasional bouts of hysteria. However, the signature, coming right before she died and during her internment, bears signs of schizophrenia.

      The graphologist was repeatedly asked whether she found indicators of sadism or other sexual deviation, since her second report conflicted with the first. Of interest, Ácsová consistently replied in the negative.

      Tomáš Gugenberger carried out another graphological analysis on two of the Countess’ personal letters. However, he was told beforehand that he would be analyzing the characteristics of a serial killer. This may have influenced his opinion, unfortunately. In any case, his findings on the personality and character of Erzsébet Báthory differ from Ácsová’s.

      According to Gugenberger, the Countess did have some good qualities: she was religious, generous and dignified. Dignity, in fact, seemed to be very important for her. She could also be optimistic, on occasion. However, she had a number of weaknesses: “self-contented, impatient, emotional, egocentric, distrustful, insensate, irritable, impulsive, unpredictable, indecisive and guileful. Her intellectual abilities were poor and she was controlled by strong sexual desire, cruelty and self-indulgence.”

      Gugenberger based his findings on a letter written in 1606 by the Countess to György Thurzó’s wife, Erzsébet Czobor. Gugenberger also analyzed a second letter written in 1610. By that time, he identified “a tendency for criminality, cruelty, whimsicality, unstableness and perversity joined, and all these features determined her sadism. Also a mental disorder appeared.”

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POSTSCRIPT

In the end, as with every sensational murder trial, we are often left with the questions, ‘Did they really do it?, and, ‘Why did they do it?’

      We know that, were Countess Báthory to be tried under the existing criminal legal system in the United States, she would undoubtedly be acquitted for the simple fact that she was denied various Constitutional rights—most especially, the right to representation and the chance to face her accusers in court. In her own time, however, such was not the case: no such rights were guaranteed, even for the nobility.