Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. IV, No. 19, Dec 1851

The Imperial forces having been victorious in Italy, and one pressing danger being thus averted from the Empire, the Austrian Cabinet began openly to display its hostility to the Hungarian movement. Jellachich repaired to Innspruck, and was openly acknowledged by the court, and the decree of deposition was revoked. Early in September Hungary and Austria stood in an attitude of undisguised hostility. On the 5th of that month, Kossuth, though enfeebled by illness, was carried to the hall of the Diet where he delivered a speech, declaring that so formidable were the dangers that surrounded the nation, that the Ministers might soon be forced to call upon the Diet to name a Dictator, clothed with unlimited powers, to save the country; but before taking this final step they would recommend a last appeal to the Imperial government. A large deputation was thereupon dispatched to the Emperor, to lay before him the demands of the Hungarian nation. No satisfactory answer was returned, and the deputation left the Imperial presence in silence. On their return, they plucked from their caps the plumes of the united colors of Austria and Hungary, and replaced them with red feathers, and hoisted a flag of the same color on the steamer which conveyed them to Pesth. Their report produced the most intense agitation in the Diet, and at the capital, but it was finally resolved to make one more attempt for a pacific settlement of the question. In order that no obstacle might be interposed by their presence, Kossuth and his colleagues resigned, and a new Ministry was appointed. A deputation was sent to the National Assembly at Vienna, which refused to receive it. Jellachich had in the mean time entered Hungary with a large army, not as yet, however, openly sanctioned by Imperial authority. The Diet seeing the imminent peril of the country, conferred dictatorial powers upon Kossuth. The Palatine resigned his post, and left the kingdom. The Emperor appointed Count Lemberg to take the entire command of the Hungarian army. The Diet declared the appointment illegal, and the Count, arriving at Pesth without escort, was slain in the streets of the capital by the populace, in a sudden outbreak. The Emperor forthwith placed the kingdom under martial law, giving the supreme civil and military power to Jellachich. The Diet at once revolted; declared itself permanent, and appointed Kossuth Governor, and President of the Committee of Safety.

There was now but one course left for the Hungarians: to maintain by force of arms the position they had assumed. We can not detail the events of the war which followed, but merely touch upon the most salient points. Jellachich was speedily driven out of Hungary, toward Vienna. In October, the Austrian forces were concentrated under command of Windischgrätz, to the number of 120,000 veterans, and were put on the march for Hungary. To oppose them, the only forces under the command of the new Government of Hungary, were 20,000 regular infantry, 7000 cavalry, and 14,000 recruits, who received the name of Honveds, or "protectors of home." Of all the movements that followed, Kossuth was the soul and chief. His burning and passionate appeals stirred up the souls of the peasants, and sent them by thousands to the camp. He kindled enthusiasm, he organized that enthusiasm, and transformed those raw recruits into soldiers more than a match for the veteran troops of Austria. Though himself not a soldier, he discovered and drew about him soldiers and generals of a high order. The result was that Windischgrätz was driven back from Hungary, and of the 120,000 troops which he led into that kingdom in October, one half were killed, disabled, or taken prisoners at the end of April. The state of the war on the 1st of May, may be gathered from the Imperial manifesto of that date, which announced that "the insurrection in Hungary had grown to such an extent," that the Imperial Government "had been induced to appeal to the assistance of his Majesty the Czar of all the Russias, who generously and readily granted it to a most satisfactory extent." The issue of the contest could no longer be doubtful, when the immense weight of Russia was thrown into the scale. Had all power, civil and military been concentrated in one person, and had he displayed the brilliant generalship and desperate courage which Napoleon manifested in 1814, when the overwhelming forces of the allies were marching upon Paris, the fall of Hungary might have been delayed for a few weeks, perhaps to another campaign; but it could not have been averted. In modern warfare there is a limit beyond which devotion and enthusiasm can not supply the place of numbers and material force. And that limit was overpassed when Russia and Austria were pitted against Hungary.

The chronology of the Hungarian struggle may be thus stated: On the 9th of September, 1848, Jellachich crossed the Drave and invaded Hungary; and was driven back at the close of that month toward Vienna. In October, Windischgrätz advanced into Hungary, and took possession of Pesth, the capital. On the 14th of April, 1849, the Declaration of Hungarian Independence was promulgated. At the close of that month, the Austrians were driven out at every point, and the issue of the contest, as between Hungary and Austria, was settled. On the 1st of May the Russian intervention was announced. On the 11th of August Kossuth resigned his dictatorship into the hands of Görgey who, two days after, in effect closed the war by surrendering to the Russians.

The Hungarian war thus lasted a little more than eleven months; during which time there was but one ruling and directing spirit; and that was Kossuth, to whose immediate career we now return.

Early in January it was found advisable to remove the seat of government from Pesth to the town of Debreczin, situated in the interior. Pesth was altogether indefensible, and the Austrian army were close upon it; but here the Hungarians had collected a vast amount of stores and ammunition, the preservation of which was of the utmost importance. In saving these the administrative power of Kossuth was strikingly manifested. For three days and three nights he labored uninterruptedly in superintending the removal, which was successfully effected. From the heaviest locomotive engine down to a shot-belt, all the stores were packed up and carried away, so that when the Austrians took possession of Pesth, they only gained the eclat of occupying the Hungarian capital, without acquiring the least solid advantage.

Debreczin was the scene where Kossuth displayed his transcendent abilities as an administrator, a statesman, and an orator. The population of the town was about 50,000, which was at once almost doubled, so that every one was forced to put up with such accommodations as he could find, and occupy the least possible amount of space. Kossuth himself occupied the Town Hall. On the first floor was a spacious ante-room, constantly filled with persons waiting for an interview, which was, necessarily, a matter of delay, as each one was admitted in his turn; the only exception being in cases where public business required an immediate audience.

This ante-room opened into two spacious apartments, in one of which the secretaries of the Governor were always at work. Here Kossuth received strangers. At these audiences he spoke but little, but listened attentively, occasionally taking notes of any thing that seemed of importance. His secretaries were continually coming to him to receive directions, to present a report, or some document to receive his signature. These he never omitted to examine carefully, before affixing his signature, even amidst the greatest pressure of business; at the same time listening to the speaker. "Be brief," he used to say, "but for that very reason forget nothing." These hours of audience were also his hours of work, and here it was that he wrote those stirring appeals which aroused and kept alive the spirit of his countrymen. It was only when he had some document of extraordinary importance to prepare, that he retired to his closet. These audiences usually continued until far into the night, the ante-room being often as full at midnight as in the morning. Although of a delicate constitution, broken also by his imprisonment, the excitement bore him up under the immense mental and bodily exertion, and while there was work to do he was never ill.

He usually allowed himself an hour for rest or relaxation, from two till three o'clock, when he was accustomed to take a drive with his wife and children to a little wood at a short distance, where he would seek out some retired spot, and play upon the grass with his children, and for a moment forget the pressing cares of state.

At three o'clock he dined; and at the conclusion of his simple meal, was again at his post. This round of audiences was frequently interrupted by a council of war, a conference of ministers, or the review of a regiment just on the point of setting out for the seat of hostilities. New battalions seemed to spring from the earth at his command, and he made a point of reviewing each, and delivering to them a brief address, which was always received with a burst of "eljens."

At Debreczin the sittings of the House of Assembly were held in what had been the chapel of the Protestant College. Kossuth attended these sittings only when he had some important communications to make. Then he always walked over from the Town Hall. Entering the Assembly, he ascended the rostrum, if it was not occupied; if it was, he took his place in any vacant seat, none being specially set apart for the Governor. He was a monarch, but with an invisible throne, the hearts of his subjects. When the rostrum was vacant, he would ascend it, and lay before the Assembly his propositions, or sway all hearts by his burning and fervent eloquence.

Such was the daily life of Kossuth at the temporary seat of government, bearing upon his shoulders the affairs of state, calling up, as if by magic, regiment after regiment, providing for their arming, equipment, and maintenance, while the Hungarian generals were contending on the field, with various fortunes; triumphantly against the Austrians, desperately and hopelessly when Russia was added to the enemy.

The defeat of Bem at Temesvar, on the 9th of August gave the death-blow to the cause. Two days afterward, Kossuth and Görgey stood alone in the bow-window of a small chamber in the fortress of Arad. What passed between them no man knows; but from that room Görgey went forth Dictator of Hungary; and Kossuth followed him to set out on his journey of exile. On the same day the new Dictator announced to the Russians his intention to surrender the forces under his command. The following day he marched to the place designated, where the Russian General Rudiger arrived on the 13th, and Görgey's army, numbering 24,000 men, with 144 pieces of artillery, laid down their arms.

Nothing remained for Kossuth and his companions but flight. They gained the Turkish frontier, and threw themselves on the hospitality of the Sultan, who promised them a safe asylum. Russia and Austria demanded that the fugitives should be given up; and for some months it was uncertain whether the Turkish Government would dare to refuse. At first a decided negative was returned; then the Porte wavered; and it was officially announced to Kossuth and his companions that the only means for them to avoid surrendry would be to abjure the faith of their fathers; and thus take advantage of the fundamental Moslem law, that any fugitive embracing the Mohammedan faith can claim the protection of the Government. Kossuth refused to purchase his life at such a price. And finally Austria and Russia were induced to modify their demand, and merely to insist upon the detention of the fugitives. On the other hand, the Turkish Government was urged to allow them to depart. Early in the present year, Mr. Webster, as Secretary of State, directed our Minister at Constantinople to urge the Porte to suffer the exiles to come to the United States. A similar course was pursued by the British Government. It was promised that these representations should be complied with; but so late as in March of the present year, Kossuth addressed a letter to our Chargé at Constantinople, despairing of his release being granted. But happily his fears were groundless; and our Government was notified that on the 1st of September, the day on which terminated the period of detention agreed upon by the Sultan, Kossuth and his companions would be free to depart to any part of the world. The United States steam-frigate Mississippi, was at once placed at his disposal. The offer was accepted. On the 12th of September the steamer reached Smyrna, with the illustrious exile and his family and suite on board, bound to our shores, after a short visit in England. The Government of France, in the meanwhile, denied him the privilege of passing through their territory. While this sheet is passing through the press, we are in daily expectation of the arrival of Kossuth in our country, where a welcome awaits him warmer and more enthusiastic than has greeted any man who has ever approached our shores, saving only the time when La Fayette was our nation's honored guest.

It is right and fitting that it should be so. When a monarch is dethroned it is appropriate that neighboring monarchies should accord a hearty and hospitable reception to him, as the representative of the monarchical principle, even though his own personal character should present no claims upon esteem or regard. Kossuth comes to us as the exiled representative of those fundamental principles upon which our political institutions are based. He is the representative of these principles, not by the accident of birth, but by deliberate choice. He has maintained them at a fearful hazard. It is therefore our duty and our privilege to greet him with a hearty, "Well done!"

Kossuth occupies a position peculiarly his own, whether we regard the circumstances of his rise, or the feelings which have followed him in his fall. Born in the middle ranks of life, he raised himself by sheer force of intellect to the loftiest place among the proudest nobles on earth, without ever deserting or being deserted by the class from which he sprung. He effected a sweeping reform without appealing to any sordid or sanguinary motive. No soldier himself, he transformed a country into a camp, and a nation into an army. He transmuted his words into batteries, and his thoughts into soldiers. Without ever having looked upon a stricken field, he organized the most complete system of resistance to despotism that the history of revolutions has furnished. It failed, but only failed where nothing could have succeeded.

Not less peculiar are the feelings which have followed him in his fall. Men who have saved a state have received the unbounded love and gratitude of their countrymen. Those who have fallen in the lost battle for popular rights, or who have sealed their devotion on the scaffold or in the dungeon, are reverenced as martyrs forevermore. But Kossuth's endeavors have been sanctified and hallowed neither by success nor by martyrdom. He is the living leader of a lost cause. His country is ruined, its nationality destroyed, and through his efforts. Yet no Hungarian lays this ruin to his charge; and the first lesson taught the infant Magyar is a blessing upon his name. Yet whatever the future may have in store, his efforts have not been lost efforts. The tree which he planted in blood and agony and tears, though its tender shoots have been trampled down by the Russian bear, will yet spring up again to gladden, if not his heart, yet those of his children or his children's children. The man may perish, but the cause endures.

THE LEGEND OF THE LOST WELL

In ancient times there existed in the desert that lies to the west of Egypt – somewhere between the sun at its setting and the city of Siout – a tribe of Arabs that called themselves Waled Allah, or The Children of God. They professed Mohammedanism, but were in every other respect different from their neighbors to the north and south, and from the inhabitants of the land of Egypt. It was their custom during the months of summer to draw near to the confines of the cultivated country and hold intercourse with its people, selling camels and wool, and other desert productions; but when winter came they drew off toward the interior of the wilderness, and it was not known where they abode. They were by no means great in numbers; but such was their skill in arms, and their reputation for courage, that no tribe ever ventured to trespass on their limits, and all caravans eagerly paid to them the tribute of safe-conduct.

Such was the case for many years; but at length it came to pass that the Waled Allah, after departing as usual for the winter, returned in great disorder and distress toward the neighborhood of the Nile. Those who saw them on that occasion reported that their sufferings must have been tremendous. More than two-thirds of their cattle, a great number of the women and children, and several of the less hardy men, were missing; but they would not at first confess what had happened to them. When, however, they asked permission to settle temporarily on some unoccupied lands, the curious and inquisitive went among them, and by degrees the truth came out.

It appeared that many centuries ago one of their tribe, following the track of some camels that had strayed, had ventured to a great distance in the desert, and had discovered a pass in the mountains leading into a spacious valley, in the midst of which was a well of the purest water, that overflowed and fertilized the land around. As the man at once understood the importance of his discovery, he devoted himself for his tribe, and returned slowly, piling up stones here and there that the way might not again be lost. When he arrived at the station he had only sufficient strength to relate what he had seen before he died of fatigue and thirst. So they called the well after him – Bir Hassan.

It was found that the valley was only habitable during the winter; for being surrounded with perpendicular rocks it became like a furnace in the hot season – the vegetation withered into dust, and the waters hid themselves within the bowels of the earth. They resolved, therefore, to spend one half of their time in that spot, where they built a city; and during the other half of their time they dwelt, as I have said, on the confines of the land of Egypt.

But it was found that only by a miracle had the well of Hassan been discovered. Those who tried without the aid of the road-marks to make their way to it invariably failed. So it became an institution of the tribe that two men should be left, with a sufficient supply of water and food, in a large cave overlooking the desert near the entrance of the valley; and that they should watch for the coming of the tribe, and when a great fire was lighted on a certain hill, should answer by another fire, and thus guide their people. This being settled, the piles of stones were dispersed, lest the greedy Egyptians, hearing by chance of this valley, should make their way to it.

How long matters continued in this state is not recorded, but at length, when the tribe set out to return to their winter quarters, and reached the accustomed station and lighted the fire, no answering fire appeared. They passed the first night in expectation, and the next day, and the next night, saying: "Probably the men are negligent;" but at length they began to despair. They had brought but just sufficient water with them for the journey, and death began to menace them. In vain they endeavored to find the road. A retreat became necessary; and, as I have said, they returned and settled on the borders of the land of Egypt. Many men, however, went back many times year after year to endeavor to find the lost well; but some were never heard of more, and some returned, saying that the search was in vain.

Nearly a hundred years passed away, and the well became forgotten, and the condition of the tribe had undergone a sad change. It never recovered its great disaster: wealth and courage disappeared; and the governors of Egypt, seeing the people dependent and humble-spirited, began, as is their wont, to oppress them, and lay on taxes and insults. Many times a bold man of their number would propose that they should go and join some of the other tribes of Arabs, and solicit to be incorporated with them; but the idea was laughed at as extravagant, and they continued to live on in misery and degradation.

It happened that the chief of the tribe at the time of which I now speak was a man of gentle character and meek disposition, named Abdallah the Good, and that he had a son, like one of the olden time, stout, and brave as a lion, named Ali. This youth could not brook the subjection in which his people were kept, nor the wrongs daily heaped upon them, and was constantly revolving in his mind the means of escape and revenge. When he gave utterance to these sentiments, however, his father, Abdallah, severely rebuked him; for he feared the power of the lords of Egypt, and dreaded lest mischief might befall his family or his tribe.

Now contemporary with Abdallah the Good there was a governor of Siout named Omar the Evil. He had gained a great reputation in the country by his cruelties and oppressions, and was feared by high and low. Several times had he treated the Waled Allah with violence and indignity, bestowing upon them the name of Waled Sheitan, or Children of the Devil, and otherwise vexing and annoying them, besides levying heavy tribute, and punishing with extreme severity the slightest offense. One day he happened to be riding along in the neighborhood of their encampment when he observed Ali trying the paces of a handsome horse which he had purchased. Covetousness entered his mind, and calling to the youth, he said, "What is the price of thy horse?"

"It is not for sale," was the reply.

No sooner were the words uttered than Omar made a signal to his men, who rushed forward, threw the young man to the ground in spite of his resistance, and leaving him there, returned leading the horse. Omar commanded them to bring it with them, and rode away, laughing heartily at his exploit.

But Ali was not the man to submit tamely to such injustice. He endeavored at first to rouse the passions of his tribe, but not succeeding, resolved to revenge himself or die in the attempt. One night, therefore, he took a sharp dagger, disguised himself, and lurking about the governor's palace, contrived to introduce himself without being seen, and to reach the garden, where he had heard it was the custom of Omar to repose awhile as he waited for his supper. A light guided him to the kiosque where the tyrant slept alone, not knowing that vengeance was nigh. Ali paused a moment, doubting whether it was just to strike an unprepared foe; but he remembered all his tribe had suffered as well as himself, and raising his dagger, advanced stealthily toward the couch where the huge form of the governor lay.

A slight figure suddenly interposed between him and the sleeping man. It was that of a young girl, who, with terror in her looks, waved him back. "What wouldst thou, youth?" she inquired.

"I come to slay that enemy," replied Ali, endeavoring to pass her and effect his purpose while there was yet time.

"It is my father," said she, still standing in the way and awing him by the power of her beauty.

"Thy father is a tyrant, and deserves to die."

"If he be a tyrant he is still my father; and thou, why shouldst thou condemn him?"

"He has injured me and my tribe."

"Let injuries be forgiven, as we are commanded. I will speak for thee and thy tribe. Is not thy life valuable to thee? Retire ere it be too late; and by my mother, who is dead, I swear to thee that I will cause justice to be done."

"Not from any hopes of justice, but as a homage to God for having created such marvelous beauty, do I retire and spare the life of that man which I hold in my hands."

So saying Ali sprang away, and effected his escape. No sooner was he out of sight than Omar, who had been awakened by the sound of voices, but who had feigned sleep when he heard what turn affairs were taking, arose and laughed, saying: "Well done, Amina! thou art worthy of thy father. How thou didst cajole that son of a dog by false promises?"

"Nay, father; what I have promised must be performed."

"Ay, ay. Thou didst promise justice, and, by the beards of my ancestors, justice shall assuredly be done!"

Next day Ali was seized and conducted to the prison adjoining the governor's palace. Amina, when she heard of this, in vain sought to obtain his release. Her father laughed at her scruples, and avowed his intention of putting the young man to death in the cruelest possible manner. He had him brought before him, bound and manacled, and amused himself by reviling and taunting him – calling him a fool for having yielded to the persuasions of a foolish girl! Ali, in spite of all, did not reply; for he now thought more of Amina than of the indignities to which he was subjected; and instead of replying with imprudent courage, as under other circumstances he might have done, he took care not to exasperate the tyrant, and meanwhile revolved in his mind the means of escape. If he expected that his mildness would disarm the fury of Omar, never was mistake greater; for almost in the same breath with the order for his being conducted back to prison was given that for public proclamation of his execution to take place on the next day.

There came, however, a saviour during the night: it was the young Amina, who, partly moved by generous indignation that her word should have been given in vain, partly by another feeling, bribed the jailers, and leading forth the young man, placed him by the side of his trusty steed which had been stolen from him, and bade him fly for his life. He lingered to thank her and enjoy her society. They talked long and more and more confidentially. At length the first streaks of dawn began to show themselves; and Amina, as she urged him to begone, clung to the skirts of his garments. He hesitated a moment, a few hurried words passed, and presently she was behind him on the horse, clasping his waist, and away they went toward the mountains, into the midst of which they soon penetrated by a rugged defile.

Amina had been prudent enough to prepare a small supply of provisions, and Ali knew where at that season water was to be found in small quantities. His intention was to penetrate to a certain distance in the desert, and then turning south, to seek the encampment of a tribe with some of whose members he was acquainted. Their prospects were not very discouraging; for even if pursuit were attempted, Ali justly confided in his superior knowledge of the desert: he expected in five days to reach the tents toward which he directed his course, and he calculated that the small bag of flour which Amina had provided would prevent them at least from dying of hunger during that time.

The first stage was a long one. For seven hours he proceeded in a direct line from the rising sun, the uncomplaining Amina clinging still to him; but at length the horse began to exhibit symptoms of fatigue, and its male rider of anxiety. They had traversed an almost uninterrupted succession of rocky valleys, but now reached an elevated undulating plain covered with huge black boulders that seemed to stretch like a petrified sea to the distant horizon. Now and then they had seen during their morning's ride, in certain little sheltered nooks, small patches of a stunted vegetation; but now all was bleak and barren, and grim like the crater of a volcano. And yet it was here that Ali expected evidently to find water – most necessary to them; for all three were feeling the symptoms of burning thirst. He paused every now and then, checking his steed, and rising in his stirrups to gaze ahead or on one side; but each time his search was in vain. At length he said: "Possibly I have, in the hurry of my thoughts, taken the wrong defile, in which case nothing but death awaits us. We shall not have strength to retrace our footsteps, and must die here in this horrible place. Stand upon the saddlebow, Amina, while I support thee: if thou seest any thing like a white shining cloud upon the ground, we are saved."

Amina did as she was told, and gazed for a few moments around. Suddenly she cried: "I see, as it were a mist of silver far, far away to the left."

"It is the first well," replied Ali; and he urged his stumbling steed in that direction.

It soon appeared that they were approaching a mound of dazzling whiteness. Close by was a little hollow, apparently dry. But Ali soon scraped away a quantity of the clayey earth, and presently the water began to collect, trickling in from the sides. In a couple of hours they procured enough for themselves and for the horse, and ate some flour diluted in a wooden bowl; after which they lay down to rest beneath a ledge of rock that threw a little shade. Toward evening, after Ali had carefully choked up the well, lest it might be dried by the sun, they resumed their journey, and arrived about midnight at a lofty rock in the midst of the plain, visible at a distance of many hours in the moonlight. In a crevice near the summit of this they found a fair supply of water, and having refreshed themselves, reposed until dawn. Then Amina prepared their simple meal, and soon afterward off they went again over the burning plain.

This time, as Ali knew beforehand, there was no prospect of well or water for twenty-four hours; and unfortunately they had not been able to procure a skin. However, they carried some flour well moistened in their wooden bowl, which they covered with a large piece of wet linen, and studied to keep from the sun. They traveled almost without intermission the whole of that day and a great part of the night. Ali now saw that it was necessary to rest, and they remained where they were until near morning.

"Dearest Amina," said he, returning to the young girl after having climbed to the top of a lofty rock and gazed anxiously ahead, "I think I see the mountain where the next water is to be found. If thou art strong enough, we will push on at once."

Though faint and weary, Amina said: "Let us be going;" and now it was necessary for Ali to walk, the horse refusing to carry any longer a double burden. They advanced, however, rapidly; and at length reached the foot of a lofty range of mountains, all white, and shining in the sun like silver. In one of the gorges near the summit Ali knew there was usually a small reservoir of water; but he had only been there once in his boyhood, when on his way to visit the tribe with which he now expected to find a shelter. However, he thought he recognized various landmarks, and began to ascend with confidence. The sun beat furiously down on the barren and glistering ground; and the horse exhausted, more than once refused to proceed. He had not eaten once since their departure, and Ali knew that he must perish ere the journey was concluded.