The Village Notary: A Romance of Hungarian Life

Tengelyi bowed.

"I know," continued the count, "that you are au fait of the condition of the county. Your office brings you in contact with the lower classes. You see and hear many things which a lord-lieutenant can never know. Speak freely to me, I pray, and be assured that to advise me is an act of charity."

The notary was silent.

"Do not impute my demand to an idle and vain curiosity. The election comes off to-morrow. It decides the fate of the county for the next three years. You must be sensible of the importance of this moment, and you know that my influence can be of use to the public, if I exert it with my eyes open."

Tengelyi was in the act of opening his lips and heart to the lord-lieutenant; but he remembered that a man may take any line that suits his plans, and that his Excellency was known to be not over nice in such matters. He replied, therefore, that he was not mixed up with any party, and that he could not, to his great sorrow, enlighten his Excellency on that head.

Maroshvölgyi, who was a master in the noble art of flattery, had never yet encountered such an antagonist in the county of Takshony. He waived the attack.

"You mistake me. Do you indeed fancy me to be ignorant of the position of parties? I know more of them, I assure you, than is either good or wholesome for me. But is there nothing in the county beyond these wretched parties? Ought I not to know the condition of the people? Ought I not to know how the functionaries behave in their offices, and what the poorer classes have to expect from the candidates?"

"Is it then the condition of the people which your Excellency wishes to know?" said Tengelyi, with a deep sigh. "But who can give you an idea of their condition? Did you not, when you rode through the county, look out from your carriage at the villages on the roadside? And what was it you saw? Roofless huts, the fields neglected, and their population walking dejectedly, without industry, without prosperity, without that joyful merry air so characteristic of the lower classes of other countries. Believe me, sir, the people in this country are not happy!"

"But, my dear Tengelyi, I think there is some exaggeration in your words. The Hungarian people do not stand so low as you would place them: I know none more proud and manly. The Hungarian peasant is happier than any I ever saw."

"Do not be imposed upon by appearances. The peasant of Hungary is a stiff-necked fellow; and I must say, I take a pride in this race, when I see that the oppression of so many years has not bent its neck. A nation which after so much oppression can still hold up its head, seems to be made for liberty, – but for all that, the people are not happy. We do not see them in rags, – but why? because they never had any clothes, except linen shirts and trowsers! but do they therefore feel the cold of winter less? They do not complain. No; for they know, from the experience of centuries, that their complaints are unheeded. But do they not feel the oppression which weighs down upon them? Do they not feel the separation from their sons, when the latter are enrolled in the regiments, while the children of their noble neighbours show their courage in hunting at the expense of the subject's crops?"