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# Gabriel Bethlen, Prince of Hungary

In September 1619, from Debrecen, Bethlen issued a proclamation outlining his reasons for going to war. The pamphlet, entitled 'Hungary's Grievances,' was drafted by Péter Alvinczi, a priest and onetime confidant of István Bocskai. Marked by emphatic repetition, its several editions affirm that Bethlen launched the campaign {2-68.} out of a sense of personal injury as well as to forestall measures against Protestants and trim the excessive power of the Catholic clergy. Although the proclamation did not name Ferdinand II, the new king was obviously held responsible for the injuries; everyone knew that, among the Habsburgs, Archduke Ferdinand had been the most determined foe of the Reformation, the pitiless persecutor of Protestants in the hereditary provinces. Whereas the German empire's politicians of various denominations wisely hewed to moderation, Ferdinand tailored his policies to Catholic interests. It was his foolish obstinacy that drove the Protestant princes in the German empire to join forces.

Hungary had yet to experience Ferdinand forcefulness. At the time Bethlen launched his attack, the recently-crowned Ferdinand had yet to take concrete measures. The readers of Alvinczi's pamphlet could not foresee that the same Catholic clergy which was denounced by the prince would, over Ferdinand's reign, prevent the spread of religious persecution in Hungary. They could hardly anticipate that Péter Pázmány, the brilliant politician and archbishop of Esztergom, would eschew force and use persuasion to restore the authority of the Catholic Church.

In the moment, Bethlen's perception of danger appeared to be realistic, and evocation of impending religious persecution and the priests' oppressive power was clearly an incitement against the chief culprit, Ferdinand II. Thus, in accordance with the publicistic conventions of the times, the pamphlet set out the prince's war aims in a covert language; but even if the king was not named, everyone understood that Gabriel Bethlen had come to terminate Ferdinand's unpromising rule.

Hungary's leading politicians rallied to Bethlen. The first, after György Rákóczi, were the young politicians who had gathered around Szaniszló Thurzó. Among them were György Széchy, Gáspár Illésházy, and the era's most talented young aristocrat, Imre Thurzó. The latter had just returned from Wittenberg, that citadel of {2-69.} learning, and was about to embark on a brilliant career. These passionate young men were soon joined — with greater or lesser enthusiasm — by the rest of Hungary's aristocracy. One who remained aloof and coldly observed the actions of his fellow aristocrats was Miklós Esterházy, István Illésházy's cousin. When he drew up a list indicating everyone's party affiliation, he found that only five Hungarian politicians remained steadfast in their loyalty to the Habsburgs. All others joined Gabriel Bethlen, whether (in Esterházy's distinction) from 'inclination' or by 'necessity.'[43]43. Galántai gróf Esterházy Miklós Magyarország nádora I, ed. by L. Szalay (Pest, 1863). They did this independently of the location of their estates, of their religious affiliation, and of their earlier support for the Habsburgs. Bethlen's supporters came from eastern and western Hungary, and were variously Calvinist, Lutheran, or recently Romanized. The man most honored by the king, the palatine Zsigmond Forgách, rallied with as little hesitation as, for example, Menyhért Alaghy, who had always complained of being ignored by the monarch.

If Hungary's greatest aristocrats became Bethlen's staunchest supporters, it was because his offensive opened up unexpected possibilities. They already enjoyed immense power: their feudal rights over villeins had been confirmed at the election of Matthias II, and they had prevailed in their claim to take charge of domestic affairs. Their only unsatisfied desire was to be free of the constraint of foreign interests, and this could only materialize under a national king. Recent events reinforced these calculations. During the last two years of Matthias' life, Archduke Ferdinand had supplanted the ailing monarch and governed without a palatine; there followed his cleverly-managed election. Hungary's aristocrats saw the spectre of a consolidated central authority. In these circumstances, the election of Gabriel Bethlen loomed as an attractive option, for, as he liked to stress, he was 'born of their own flesh and blood.'[44]44. I. Katona, Historia critica, p. 476. The option was all the more appealing since Bethlen did not have an independent basis of power. The aristocrats could make Bethlen their national king while retaining effective political power.

{2-70.} Bethlen had set off from Gyulafehérvár on 27 August, 1619, and, with the aristocrats' backing, made quick progress. Soon after his Debrecen proclamation, he convened his supporters at Kassa. There, in Bocskai's onetime residence, they reached an understanding: Bethlen came not to invade but to lend assistance to his people, much as Jephthah did for the people of Israel. The memorandum of the meeting affirmed that 'in our wretched and difficult situation, we confidently sought Your Highness's patronage, and invited you to assist us:' and, 'not wanting to seem ungrateful,' they 'freely and wholeheartedly' elected Bethlen 'leader, ruler, and chief guardian of the country.'[45]45. Erdélyi Történelmi Adatok III, ed. by I. Mikó (Kolozsvár, 1858), p. 227. Bethlen's armed intervention thus won a semblance of legality: he was not an enemy, but the official representative of the people's will towards the king.

On 20 September, while these discussions were going on in Kassa, György Széchy secured for Bethlen the allegiance of the mining towns, where much of the country's wealth was concentrated. The spark of rebellion spread rapidly. Overruling its commander, the garrison of Érsekújvár surrendered the town. Nagyszombat, too, went over to Bethlen. Only at Pozsony, the provisional capital of long standing, was there need for real military action. The mounted prince personally led the attack on a battlefield made slippery with mud by the autumn rain. On 14 October, 1619, Pozsony surrendered; the palatine and the crown guards retrenched in the fortress, but, within a day, they were persuaded by Bethlen's supporters to change sides. Bearing the revered symbol, the Holy Crown of St. Stephen, they swore allegiance to Bethlen.

Bethlen's military successes reached a peak in November, when he took the battle beyond Hungary's borders. At the end of October, near Pozsony, his army had been joined by forces of his Czech-Moravian allies, and plans were drawn up for a joint assault on Vienna. Clearly, the capture of the imperial capital would have brought them immense strategic and political advantage. They made a promising start. On 25 November, King Ferdinand himself {2-71.} was driven to seek shelter behind Vienna's walls. Two days later, the attackers occupied the suburban town of Ebersdorf and began to lay siege to the capital. All Europe followed the events with bated breath: some experts calculated that the besieged city would run out of food within two weeks. Yet Bethlen would not wait; on 29 November, 1619, he withdrew his army.

His action induced tremendous public controversy. He had not only halted an apparently promising operation but also deserted his Czech allies. In justification, Bethlen cited developments on the home front: coming from Poland, György Homonnai had led a powerful counter-offensive into Hungary. The more plausible reason was that Bethlen considered the siege to be hopeless, and therefore preferred a moral to a military setback. He succeeded in his manoeuvre to make the choice seem wholly voluntary: despite much debate, the retreat caused no damage to his reputation in Hungary. The political benefits of his military expedition became evident only after he halted the fighting.

In late 1619 and early 1620, Gabriel Bethlen achieved his greatest political successes in Hungary. At his first diet, convened in mid-November at Pozsony, the orders offered him the throne. According to the bill enacted at the end of the session, the invitation to rule the country was 'absolute' and 'unanimous.'[46]46. I. Katona, Historia critica, p. 270.

In fact, this wording emerged from the first clash between prince and estates and signified his triumph. Their original intention was to set stiff conditions: Bethlen's signature on an electoral charter setting out the operating rules of an idealized republic of nobles. In this model of a feudal state, the ruler would not even be the first among equals; although the charter affirmed that the estates and the ruler were mutually dependent, the former had only their rights specified, and the latter only his obligations. The diet was to be the country's supreme governing institution. Only the ruler could convene the diet, at least once every three years, but he had no control over its composition and was bound to promulgate its {2-72.} laws without amendment. The foremost representatives of the estates would be the palatine and the royal council; the former would be elected by the diet, and the ruler could not alter the membership of the council without the concurrence of the palatine and the current councillors. These feudal representatives would also have to concur before the king issued any decrees. The king could not make personal use of public funds; the latter would be administered by the treasurer, who had to abide by the diet's decisions regarding expenditures. Finally, should the ruler flout these prescriptions, the estates would have the right to resist him.

Bethlen felt powerful enough to reject the conditions for election. Nor did he try to have alternate terms drawn up. Instead, he cut short the debate in the feudal parliament by declaring that, since only part of the country had yielded to him, he did not want a royal election. And it was as prince of Hungary that he proceeded to seek the allegiance of the rest of the country.