Stephen Sisa : The Spirit of Hungary

It was a mismatch between two unequal foes. There could not have been a greater contrast between the two antagonists leading their armies into battle. If Suleiman was called "the Magnificent" by history, then King Louis II of Hungary should have been dubbed - charitably - "the Unfortunate." Let us deal with him first.

Louis II was the son of the Pole Wladislas Jagello, who ascended the Hungarian throne at Magyar invitation after King Mátyás died without a legitimate heir in 1490. In just a few decades, first the father and then his son managed to squander the glorious inheritance left by Mátyás. Because Mátyás' formidable Black Army was disbanded and the defense of the frontiers neglected, the country was soon a spectacle of desolation and decay. It was without money and without an army. Under the feeble hand of Wladislas, the peasantry had no protection against the rapacity of the landowners, because the king had become a pawn of the nobles and prelates.

Alarmed by the decay, the Diet of 1505, held on the plain of Rákos, decreed that, "because in the past the kings of foreign origin had been the chief cause of the shocking decline of the country... upon the death of King Wladislas, should he leave no natural heir, no foreigner shall be elected king; only a Hungarian fit and able to discharge the duties of royalty."

Unfortunately, Wladislas Jagello did have a male heir who was to be crowned Louis II. And what an heir he was! Historians have recorded the following oddities about him. He was

* Ante diem natus (born before his time). Louis II was born prematurely. His mother died before he was born and the doctors hurriedly performed a Cesarian on her corpse to save the baby. To keep him warm and alive, the baby was put inside a freshly killed pig every day for weeks after his birth.

* Ante diem barbatus. (Grew a beard before his time.) At the age of fifteen he had a fully grown beard and mustache. His hair was completely gray by the age of twenty.

* Ante diem uxoratus (He wed before his time.) He was not even ten years old when he was betrothed to the Princess Maria Habsburg. It was an arranged nuptial, not unusual among royalty in that era.

* Ante diem mortuus. He died a premature death at the age of 21.

The Playboy King

Although the boy was intelligent and serious-minded, fond of sports and conscientious in his duties, King Wladislas neglected to educate his son properly. Even so, he might have developed into a fine man and able monarch had he not fallen under the influence of his kinsman, Margrave George Brandenburg, a frivolous man with hedonistic ways, who enticed the king at a tender age to adopt the lifestyle of a playboy. By providing him with wine, women and song, he gained almost absolute control over Louis II.

Nothing changed after the marriage of Louis II and Maria Habsburg was consummated in 1521, because Queen Maria shared her husband's tastes. At Court, entertainment, "enriched" with lusty masquerade parties and fancy tournaments, was the main concern. As a result, royal authority was so completely ignored that, finally, almost anyone could enter the palace at will and sit at the king's table. The regal armchairs used in Mátyás' time as seats for the dignitaries of the Royal Council, now served the royal hounds who stretched out on them lazily in full view of everyone.

The Court was not only frivolous and corrupt, but also German, further irritating Hungarian nobles. The papal envoy to the Court reported that the King's only interest lay in German affairs, and as a result, he and his entourage completely alienated the Hungarians.

Under such circumstances, it was no wonder that the flow of tax-income to the royal house all but stopped, causing virtual bankruptcy. The Court lived from one day to the next, and Louis often humiliated himself and damaged his position by begging the nobles and prelates for credit. To obtain money, he even sold for 5,000 gold ducats his right to vote in the election of the German-Roman Emperor, a right he had by virtue of being King of Bohemia as well.

The Gathering Storm

Such was the sorry state of affairs in Hungary when in 1520 the ambitious Suleiman, known to posterity as

"The Magnificent", assumed the throne of the Ottoman Empire. Without wasting time, he decided the very next year to attack Hungary's southern frontiers. One after the other, the undermanned fortresses fell under the Turkish onslaught, including Nándorfehérvár (Belgrade), "the key to Hungary," which had been so heroically and successfully defended by János Hunyadi in 1456.

The loss of these strongholds caused great alarm. Factional strife ceased in the face of the common danger. During the siege of Nándorfehérvár King Louis II, heeding his better self, managed to recruit an army to move against the Turks. But it was too little and too late. The news that Nándorfehérvár had fallen on August 29, 1521, came just as the Hungarian army led by the King reached Mohács. (Note the time and place: August 29, Mohács. Both would later haunt the memories of future generations. Only the year would be different.)

After his successes, Suleiman unexpectedly stopped advancing and sent his troops home. For the Hungarians it would have been logical to try to recapture the lost strongholds from the Turkish garrisons left behind. King Louis II, however, decided otherwise and disbanded his troops, who were decimated by hunger and disease, with the job undone. This negligence later contributed to his own undoing.

Since the Turkish threat seemed to be diminishing, the Royal Court resumed its frivolities and the situation in the country continued to deteriorate. Foreign observers saw in Hungary a country drifting headlong into disaster. "This country is in no position to defend itself, but is laid open to the mercy of the enemy," reported the papal Nunzio Burgio, to the Pope. "How could it be imagined that it could wage war against the might of all Islam, when the king and nobles are unable to even pay the skeleton army at the frontiers... The nobility is broken up by factional strife, but even if they kept together, what would they do against the Turks without military equipment?... They might attempt one battle, but they will certainly lose in the end. From whom could they hope for assistance?"

The 77 Day March

Suleiman left Hungary undisturbed from 1521 to 1526. He withdrew in 1521 because the affairs of his own empire required the use of his army elsewhere. He took on the Persians, defeated the Egyptians, and ejected the Knights Hospitalers from the strategically located Eastern Mediterranean island of Rhodes. During these five years, a grace period granted by history, the Magyars could have rallied to the defense of their country. They did not.

And after five years, Suleiman the "Magnificent" was ready to turn his attention to the West once again. The Sultan's worthy commander in chief, Grand Vizier Ibrahim, was to execute his grand design. The rumors and intelligence reports which circulated about the preparations of the Turkish army - the superb war machine of the age - sounded ominous enough to prepare prospective targets for the worst.

Suleiman's huge army of 130,000 troops set out from Constantinople on April 16, 1526. During their northward march on the Balkan Peninsula toward Hungary, many thousands more joined them from vassal states. The long trek was an immense undertaking considering the rocky, muddy, mountainous terrain they had to cross with thousands of horses and camels. To feed these animals alone, 12,000 tons of fodder had to be transported - not to mention provisions for the troops whose number increased to 300,000 including irregulars and support units, and guns with ammunition for the battles to come. The difficult terrain slowed the advance of the invaders, whose daily progress averaged only about thirteen kilometers (eight miles).

In the face of the approaching threat, King Louis started desperately to seek help. He wrote Henry VIII of England, "I beg your Majesty, not to allow a limb of Christianity to be torn from its trunk. We have been exhausted in the long struggle, all our strength is gone, and thus we are in no position to withstand the Turkish onslaught." Louis sent envoys to the courts of western Europe, but they spoke in vain of the danger that threatened the Christian world. In fact, the King of France, Francis I, sought a potential ally in the Turks against the Habsburgs.

Meanwhile, the ever-expanding Turkish army continued to march toward the borders of Hungary. Altogether, the march from Constantinople through the Balkan Peninsula lasted 77 days.

An advance party of 40.000 troops reached the Sava River in June. It set up a pontoon-bridge at Nándorfehérvár for the main army of the Sultan which was still bogged down on muddy roads in Serbia. Finally, Suleiman arrived on July 9, 1526. The long march took a heavy toll, exceeding ten percent of the troop strength: some estimates go as high as twenty-five percent. Still, those who were left represented an overwhelming force. They could have been stopped, or at least delayed. for many weeks at the crossing of the Drava River. It was swollen by the heavy rains of an unusually wet summer. The Sava River was swollen, too. and it almost swept away the pontoon-bridge at Nándorfehérvár. But when Suleiman's army reached Eszék, his troops met with no resistance at all as they built a bridge over the Drava to open the way for the Turks toward Mohács. The gigantic scale of that crossing, when it came, boggles the mind.

According to the diaries of Suleiman and the accounts of the historian Ferdis, the crossing of the Turkish forces on the pontoon-bridge at Eszék lasted continuously for three days and three nights. If so, logistic experts have concluded that the length of the entire column must have stretched for 300-330 kilometers (200 miles!). It included 100.000 cavalry troops and 50,000 foot soldiers with 300 cannons and 30,000 camels carrying supplies.

Too Little, Too Late... Again

And what was happening on the Hungarian side? Whatever was happening was happening in slow motion. The nobles, who still did not realize the huge dimensions of the approaching danger were not heeding their King's call to colors. Louis II ordered them to encamp on July 2, but no one reported on that day. Only when the King himself furnished an example with his appearance in the camp did things start to move. To give him his due, Louis II acted like a changed man in this critical period. His behavior, worthy of a King, served as a catalyst in stirring the nobles and prelates to action. It is a pity that by then it was too little and too late.

In the history of every nation, vacillation and apathy are the surest signs of decay. During the six months before the battle of Mohács, these faults became most evident, and the gap caused by negligence in the country's' defenses could not be repaired on short notice. For this reason, King Louis II could not recruit more than 25.000 men and 85 guns at Mohács by the fateful day of August 29, 1526. Furthermore, the Hungarians lacked an experienced commander-in-chief. Archbishop Pál Tomory, the valiant soldier-priest invited by the King to fill that role was a reluctant leader who lacked knowledge of battle strategy. Since reinforcements 40.000 strong were only a few marching days away, led by the wealthiest baron,. János Zápolya of Transylvania, prudence would have dictated that they wait for their arrival before engaging the Turks. Other troops, led by Christopher (Kristof) Frangepán from Croatia were also on the way: Frangepán would have made an ideal commander-in-chief for the entire Hungarian army. However, the impatient Hungarian troops compelled the commanders to do battle on ill-chosen ground without delay. (According to some historians, Zápolya deliberately delayed his troops, on the speculation that the death of the King would clear his way to the throne.)

The "Playboy" Dies Like a King

The only advantage the Magyars had that day was that their troops were well-rested, while the Turks had just completed a strenuous march in scorching summer heat. But rather than attacking their fatigued enemy then, the Hungarians just watched as they struggled through the marshy terrain. Why? It would have been "unchivalrous" to attack the Turks when they were not yet ready for battle.

The sun had left its zenith hours ago, but the climax of the day was yet to come. The 29th of

August was the day of the Beheading of St. John the Baptist. When the Hungarians decided to attack, the young Bishop Perényi remarked, "Let us rename this day the Day of 20,000 Magyar Martyrs." It was a prophetic utterance.

At four in the afternoon, the bugles sounded the attack. The presence of the fully armored young King gave the Magyars an unrealistic confidence, coupled with boldness bordering on foolhardiness. There were only 25.000 Hungarians against 150,000 Turks. Perhaps the blood of ancient warriors stirred within them. Whatever it was, the ferocity of their first cavalry attack stunned the Turks to such a degree that they were forced to retreat. Their situation became briefly critical when a small band of thirty-three Magyar cavalry men pushed its way to the Sultan's tent after breaking through the phalanx of his bodyguards. Suleiman even had to draw his sword to protect himself when, at the last moment, Janissary foot soldiers threw themselves before the charging horses and cut the tendons of the animals. With their collapse, the fate of the attackers was sealed. The purpose of the Magyar attack was to kill or capture the "Magnificent." Had they succeeded - and they were only a minute away from their target - history would have taken a different turn. But it was not to be so.

Instead, it was the Turks who destroyed Louis II's body-guard and wounded the king in the throes of his newfound valor in battle. Louis somehow managed to withdraw while attacking Hungarian forces ran into the murderous fire of hidden Turkish cannons and the elite Janissaries.

In the unusually short battle, which lasted only ninety minutes or so, almost the entire leadership of Hungary was wiped out. There were 20,000 Magyar bodies littering the battleground. The commander-in-chief, Archbishop Tomory, fell in the battle along with the Primate László Szalkai. Six other bishops, including Ferenc Perényi, who had foreseen the Magyars' "martyrdom," shared the fate of 500 top dignitaries of the country. Most importantly, King Louis II also lost his life. Wounded, he fell from his jumping horse into the swollen creek of Csele, trying to reach the road to Buda, but his heavy armor dragged him down. There he drowned and his body was not found for days.

The King, "reborn" in the weeks preceding Mohács, finally paid with his death for the many errors of his life. Gone also were 20,000 Hungarian soldiers whose corpses lay scattered about on the battlefield as prey for vultures, crows, stray dogs and other scavengers. A gallant woman, Dorottya Kanizsai saved the bodies of the fallen heroes from that ugly fate by arranging for their burial with her own funds. The events of the catastrophic day,. dubbed Mohácsi vész (Disaster at Mohács). are an ever-present memory to Hungarians.

The plain of Mohács became the burial ground not only for the fallen Magyar soldiers, but also the graveyard of national greatness because Hungarian leaders, between 1526 and 1541, missed their chance to extricate their country from the grip of Turkish power.

Stephen Sisa : The Spirit of Hungary