Countess Dracula (28 page)

Zrínyi refers to a message he has sent to
Č
achtice on Thurzó's instructions, and this must be part of the manoeuvring in preparation for the forthcoming arrest: one possible reason for such a message would be to refuse an invitation to join the Christmas celebrations at his mother-in-law's home (where very possibly she was hoping to conclude some manoeuvres of her own in the company of her advisers and confidants), and to leave Thurzó a free hand in the matter of the actual attack on the mansion. There is, then, an agreement in advance of the raid that Elisabeth should be shut away to spare
the family shame. The letter from Zrínyi is coolly businesslike and self-seeking, and, despite the polite conventions, it is forthright, even defiant. There is no mention at all of the Lady's alleged crimes, no expression of horror or pious disapproval: his reference to the risk of beheading and dispossession could more easily apply to a case of high treason than to the murder of a few servants, noble or otherwise.

The letter shows that George Thurzó had pressed for the sharing out of the estates to take place immediately, and this could have been in his interest only if he hoped to receive something himself. Could it be that it was the manor of
Č
achtice and the movable treasures that Elisabeth had taken there that were to be the price of Thurzó's collusion?

Having warned the Palatine that he would not be allowed to share out the huge prize according to his own whim, Zrínyi crossed the Danube
en route
to his seat of Monyorókerék, leaving a detachment of his soldiers at Thurzó's disposal. In December Elisabeth settled down with the ladies of her court to celebrate Christmas. There was great tension in the air in
Č
achtice, as Ponikenus' account of the confrontation in the church confirms. Perhaps the Countess did, as her enemies stated, summon her wise-woman, Erzsi, the wife of the Myjava farmer, to bake her magic cakes and cast her spells against the forces that were gathering to destroy her.

On 29 December, the Countess was surprised ‘over the evening meal'. The Palatine's secretary George Závodský recorded the incident in a brief entry in his journal: ‘She and her lackeys inflicted butchery and torture upon the female sex for long years, and cruelly tormented nearly six hundred . . .'
²³
He specifically exonerated the other dignitaries who were closest to the Countess: ‘neither Zrínyi nor Homonnay knew of it, nor even Imre Megyery knew . . .'

On 30 December Thurzó arranged his macabre display before the assembled household, then carried off Elisabeth's assistants to his stronghold at Byt
č
a and to their deaths.

In the last days of January 1611, Count George Homonnay Drugeth, who had done nothing to oppose Thurzó, but who had stayed away until the arrest and trial had been concluded, rode into
Č
achtice at the head of a band of armed retainers, who accompanied him up the frozen track through the woods to the castle. He was admitted and spoke to his mother-in-law, who instructed him to arrange for funds to support her in her captivity.

The next letter from Lord Nicholas Zrínyi which was carried to Thurzó on 12 February 1611 was very different in tone from his previous note; it was couched in the most respectful terms as befitted a plea for mercy which would no doubt be transmitted to the King himself:

May the Lord bless your highness and all your relatives. I understood the copy of your highness' letter and also the letter from the King which your highness sent to me. My heart is aching now, which is natural in such circumstances and in such shame that Mistress Nádasdy my lady mother finds herself, as I have heard. And I suffer very much for that, but nevertheless, though it is terrible to hear and horrifying to learn of her activities and deeds, and how your highness has punished her, of the two evils, I think, I needs must choose the lesser one. And besides, what your highness has done with her, this was for our greater good, and for our self-respect and the future of our honour, and for the putting away of the shame which might have befallen. In his Royal Highness's letters I could likewise apprehend ... it would be better to die and to be nothing, with her relatives and children, too, than to hear of her brazen and horrifying executioner's work and torture, but your highness as a benevolent and truly loving brother, willing to prevent these shameful things from coming about, found the right means and solution whereby she should be imprisoned for ever and for our good name and our good memory she should be punished. For your highness's benevolence and your piety and brotherliness, and we would desire to serve you until our death and we will do our utmost to show our gratitude towards yourself. And now we request your highness that your highness should intercede with his Royal Highness on our behalf, so that his Majesty might reconsider his punishment that he wished to inflict upon her, and that his Majesty be content with the punishment that your highness has given her . . . After God our hope lies with your highness, that your highness shall intervene and mediate with his Majesty in the interest of our case . . .
²⁴

Zrínyi expected this letter to be passed on to others, as evidenced by his feigned surprise at learning of his mother-in-law's misdeeds – ‘her brazen and horrifying executioner's work'. Even if the contents
of the earlier secret letter were disregarded, the words do not ring entirely true.

Zrínyi's missive was followed by a letter from Paul Nádasdy to Thurzó dated 23 February 1611:

I have understood what your lordship has written, what his Royal Highness commanded for your lordship, and as concerns my miserable lady mother. I not only understood, but I myself have also experienced likewise in other affairs many times and in this affair, too, the goodwill of your lordship towards me and towards my sisters. May the Lord grant you, with all my female relatives and also my family with our whole hearts we wish to serve you all our lives. As your lordship wrote to his Royal Majesty with good reason, that first the summons to appear should have been issued, but that it is now too late, as your lordship as the judge of the country has already carried out the necessary examination, and it is not now necessary to repeat this, as the punishment of my poor mother now is much worse than death, and according to his Royal Highness's order, the taking of her life should be effected, and in what concerns her property, although we have no fears in this respect, since according to her own decision, we three have all received it before her incarceration. But otherwise, we wish with our relatives to entreat with our prayers and we ask his Majesty that with the assistance of the law, because of my mother, for our line and our nation he should not bring eternal shame upon them. But we did not wish to act without news from your lordship, nor without your advice, as this is not meet. It is not customary to act against the will of his lordship the Palatine. I pray and I beseech your lordship, as my lord and as my loving father, that you should give me your agreement and whether you approve or not, [as to] how I should with my sisters proceed [so as] not in any manner to cause trouble or commit harm for your lordship at his Majesty's court or with his Majesty himself. As per your lordship's letter, which we have kept always secret, we have understood your intention. I await a good answer from your lordship, as from my loving father and my lord. May God keep your lordship in good health for many long years.
²⁵

Paul was seeking the Palatine's permission to petition the King
directly: he knew that the gist, although not the text, of this letter would also be conveyed to the King. In writing as he does, ‘the goodwill of your lordship towards me and towards my sisters', he recalls that on his deathbed Francis Nádasdy had entrusted his children into Thurzó's care. He earnestly hopes that there will be no need for a further investigation and possible trial – ‘your lordship as the judge of the country has already carried out the necessary examination' – even though the Palatine has dispensed with all the other usual legal requirements. The reference to ‘your lordship's letter, which we have kept always secret' prove that confidential negotiations with the family had taken place; ‘not in any manner to cause trouble or commit harm' – the situation was delicate and unprecedented: Thurzó was defying the King on the family's behalf.

There is no reference by Paul Nádasdy to his mother's supposed crimes, only to her current predicament. The real purpose of the letter is to underline again the fact that the inheritance had been safely disposed of and to plead for Elisabeth's life to spare the family shame.

Paul signed the letter with his firm, regular signature, but the twelve-year-old boy had not composed the text. The author was ‘Megyery the Red' (the sobriquet probably referred to the distinctive colour of his beard), his tutor and guardian, the one man who in the literary versions of the story of the Blood Countess figures on a par with Lord George Thurzó as Elisabeth's
bête noire,
a conspirator against her who, it was said, she blamed above all others for her misfortunes and tried to kill with magic.

This was Imre Megyery, who on Francis Nádasdy's death had been appointed tutor to the young heir, Paul, and who referred to the boy, actually his cousin, as ‘my young brother'. Megyery was the Nádasdys' representative at the Hungarian parliament's lower house when it met at Bratislava. He was a familiar at the Sárvár court, that is, someone of lesser but still noble rank who was bound to the family by feudal allegiance and a blood relationship. Imre Megyery's mother, Lady Agatha Nádasdy, was a cousin of the former Palatine Thomas, Elisabeth's father-in-law. Through his wife, Megyery was also related to the junior branch of the Nádasdy line. He was a relative too of Theodore Syrmiensis, who presided over the investigation of Elisabeth Báthory, and of Caspar Ordódy, the Deputy Governor of Tren
č
ín county, who assisted at the trial of Elisabeth's servants in 1611. Several Megyerys performed the function of assistants to the most powerful
personages of the time: Sigmund Megyery, for instance, was secretary to Palatine Nicholas Esterházy in the mid-seventeenth century.

Although he and his family lived beyond the confines of the castle, Megyery dealt with the Countess on a day-to-day basis during all the time she spent at the Nádasdy seat at Sárvár. Whatever their feelings for each other and whatever Megyery's links with George Thurzó and his circle (he must have maintained cordial relations with the man named as benefactor, virtually a godfather to his charge), there was ample reason for him to turn against his master's widow and plot her downfall if he was simply fulfilling his duty to the late Count Francis and to his heir. The ‘tutor' in the great houses of Hungary was much more than a poor pedagogue: his role was closer to that of mentor and guardian and carried a great deal of power. Perhaps like many in his position, Megyery relished the power that his role as regent gave him while the young Paul – heir to the still intact family honour as well as its vast fortune – was not of age. But he must have been alarmed for himself and for his protégé at the thought of the rogue termagant Elisabeth forfeiting the good name of her late husband and risking the entire legacy. Megyery was a perfect candidate for the role of evil mastermind – the organiser of the subterfuges that hid the investigation from its subject, the orchestrator of the household officials' betrayal of their mistress – and it was not only later legend but the lady herself who cast him in that role, if Ponikenus is to be believed. It would be satisfying to be able to confirm Megyery in his part as villain – or, if Elisabeth was guilty, as protector of the young heir's name and fortune – but not enough is known about the man. There is no portrait, no journal that would bring him to life for us. What is known and is surely significant is that when Paul Nádasdy attained his majority, Megyery continued to serve him faithfully in the capacity of chief steward of the family estates.