Life in the Lowlands and Mountains of Hungary
A thousand years ago the Hungarians, when entering the country, were a fighting nation in the first instance, and, to suit their nomadic habits and life, breeders of animals, especially…
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“Life in the Lowlands and Mountains” from Peeps at Many Lands: Hungary by H. Tornai de Kövër, 1911.
A thousand years ago the Hungarians, when entering the country, were a fighting nation in the first instance, and, to suit their nomadic habits and life, breeders of animals, especially horses. The favourite occupation of the Hungarian to this day is being a shepherd, herdsman, or "Csikos" (those that tend the horses being called by that name). Field work and gardening have only taken root with time, this being occasioned by necessity. Fifty years ago great stretches of land were yet unbroken by the plough, and on these vast plains throughout all the summer the herdsmen, shepherds, and "Csikos" lived in little straw huts, with the most primitive contrivance to drive their flocks and horses into in the time of a sudden storm. The beasts lived a semi-wild life out on those great plains and marshes. Some of these territories still exist, with the same primitive wild life going on, the greatest plain of the present time being the Horto- bagy, near the town of Dcbreczen. As time goes on, more and more earth is being tilled, and agriculture and cattle-breeding is being modernised and the land more thoroughly worked than hitherto.
In former days the peasant only broke up as much of the earth as would enable him to live with his family and to hand over the compulsory tribute to his master. This was before the year of 1848, when they were still serfs and vassals. After the liberation of the peasantry more and more ground was worked, but still in a primitive way. There are, too, the great dominions of the aristocracy, the Roman Church, and the Government property. Of course these and many others are worked by machinery, with every modern invention ; but the little peasant still sows his grain by hand, cuts it in the same way as his forefathers, and thrashes the grain by making horses walk over it, or by using the old-fashioned flail.
The chief feature of the cattle in the lowlands of Hungary is that they are of a large, strong, bony build, and quite white, with very long horns stretching wide apart over the beast's forehead. This race was evidently brought into the land at the time of the "Home-making," and came originally from Asia or the Don district in Russia. It is most likely the same in the case of the long twisted-horned sheep of the real Hungarian breed, but these are dying out. They are very picturesque animals, their long, sharp, twisted horns sticking out in a straight line from their heads. In the time of Maria Theresa the Merino sheep were imported, and they form the chief breed now, mixed with another kind.
The buffaloes that still exist in the north-eastern counties and Transylvania also belong to early times, having been brought into the land by the Hungarians, and evidently came originally from Asia. The sheep are of the greatest necessity to the Hungarian peasant, every article of their clothing being made from the sheepskin or wool, except the linen they wear. They live on the milk, cheese, and curds of these animals, and the flesh is their usual dish, prepared with "paprika" into a kind of stew called "gulyas." Every shepherd cooks his own meal—generally in the evening, after having seen to his flock.
The cattle on the lowlands are, as a rule, white and of the old Hungarian breed; these are the swiftest workers in harness, and, not being dainty eaters, are easily reared and kept through the winter. The Hungarian bull is a great strong white beast, with dark, black rings round his eyes. It often happens that on the great plains two bulls fall to fighting. The herdsmen try to separate them, chasing them on horseback and lashing them with leather thongs which are strung with lead. But more often than not one or the other of the bulls gets badly wounded in the fight. In his anger and broken pride he escapes to the marshes, and is heard bellowing there for days. Sometimes they even perish there, because no man can approach a beaten bull, so great is his fury and frenzy when he sees a living being.
The great difficulty in the lowlands is that, with the exception of the rivers which lie far apart, there is hardly any good water available, the wells dug into the soil often supplying bitter or salt water. Often the animals have to be driven many a weary mile before they reach sweet water. Perhaps one of the prettiest sights is the Csikos driving his herd of half-wild horses before him, swinging out his great Karikas (a short-handled, tremendously long-lashed whip), dashing along at a frantic pace in a whirlwind of dust on a summer's day. When he wants to catch a horse, he lassos it with the greatest skill, as these animals are so wild that they are not to be caught otherwise. Not so the favourite horses of the Csikos that he always rides; these are so tame that they will come to their master if they hear him whistle in the low tones they are used to.
The Hungarian nation evidently lived on horseback for many hundreds of years during the time of the "folk-wandering," and have kept to the horse through every period. In wilder days it was on the back of their sturdy and fleet little horses that they knocked at the gates of Bisanz, and on these they wandered into many an unknown land, often robbing and coming back laden with spoil. These wild times are gone, and still the Hungarian Huszar is the best rider on the whole Continent. But no wonder! From earliest youth they sit their spirited little steeds without a saddle, and have been known to pick up children who were in the way while tearing along at the maddest pace.
Many romantic stories are interwoven into the lives of the shepherds and Csikos. Not so many years ago young men who wanted to escape the compulsory military service, or who happened to have killed some one in a brawl, to escape the Zsandar (police) used to take flight into the great marshes, woods, or vast plains, and there turn into robbers, the shepherds, herdsmen, and innkeepers always helping them and giving them notice in good time of the approach of the much-hated Government Zsandar. The Szegeny legeny (poor boys, as they were called) lived their life of solitude in the wood and marshes under secure cover in the daytime. At night, when there was a cloudy sky, they lay in wait and robbed the citizens who went by on their loaded carts to the neighbouring market.
This isolated life, and always being hunted like animals, made them cruel. Sometimes their whole life was spent in this way, having no other companions but the shepherds, and only very rarely daring to approach the habitations of people. Yet they yearned with an aching heart for their homes in the little village, with its great rows of acacias, where the fragrance is sweet and heavy on summer nights, and where the warbling of the nightingale turns night into one of the sweetest concerts of Nature. Yes, they yearned with all their hearts for the little garden with the great flaming flowers, where their sweethearts waited for them when the stars were shining brightly in the vast blue of the heavens. They longed for the old sweet days! But sad was often their fate!
Sometimes they were caught when in the act of nearing a village, or when drinking in the Csarda (inn) of the "Puszta," although the host always held with them, just as most of the peasants did. Nevertheless, sometimes a cunning Zsandar managed to get hold of one of the "poor boys"; then, of course, imprisonment for life or the gallows followed. But they never gave up their lives cheaply. Many more were the Zsandars that died by the Betyar (robber) bullet than Betyar caught by the Zsandar. If taken, they seldom lived long in prison, the pent-up life soon killing those used to absolute freedom. Sandor Petofi, the great Hungarian poet, wrote many a beautiful verse and ballad about the Betyar romance. This type is almost extinct at the present time. Against the well-organised police they cannot hold their own, and if it is a case of their escaping to the marshes, the delinquents are caught within a few days or weeks.
We have already mentioned that Hungary is the best wheat-growing country in Europe. The Hungarian field labourer is not able to reap all the grain grown on the lowlands, and the landowners have to bring the poor Slovak of the north to help in the gathering-in of the harvest. But the Hungarian workman, who is well fed throughout the whole year and enjoys perfect health, is worth two of the northern Slovak in work, although the latter is the taller of the two. The labourer of the lowlands works sixteen to eighteen hours a day during harvest-time, on moonlight nights the work hardly ceasing for more than a few hours. Their womenfolk are out, too, and help in the work. After such hard days of labour one hears them entering the villages singing their merry-harvest tunes. Of course, like all things, the harvest ends with a great feast given by the landowner. The workmen make a pretty kind of basket or crown, made of the yellow straw and interwoven with coloured ribbons, which is taken up to the castle or homestead on the last night of the harvest and hung up in the hall, after which event, both the leading labourer and master having made a speech, the great harvest festivities and dancing begin.
The original Hungarian breed of horses were not thoroughbred horses, but descendants of that wonderfully strenuous and hardy race of horses the Hungarians had brought with them from Asia. Since the eighteenth century this breed has been improved by mixing it with Arab and English thorough- breds. Mczohegyes and Babolna are the two greatest Government horse-breeding places (studs) well worth visiting. The Hungarian half-bred Arab is small, very swift, with splendid legs, and is the hardiest little animal one can imagine. Nature forces the Carpathian districts and the mountainous regions of Transylvania purely to be given to the breeding of cattle and sheep. In the Carpathians, excepting a few instances, all goes on in the most primitive way. It is not much better among the Rumanians in Transylvania. The people are too ignorant to be able to make use of all the advantages Nature offers them. It is true that in the early spring the owners of the herds and their families leave their villages and go to live in the wilds of the snow-peaked mountains, and although no labour is spared, the final result is not what it should be, because modern ideas are put on one side and old traditions clung to.
Tornai de Kövër, H. Peeps at Many Lands: Hungary. Adam and Charles Black, 1911.
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