There are also signs to indicate that Erzsébet was, at least at times, a passive partner in the marriage: Ferenc clearly did as he pleased, often without telling his wife about his activities or dealings. In 1596, for example, she discovered through a third party that he had gone off to Transylvania with no clear purpose for the trip. She rebuked him angrily, although it thinly disguises hurt feelings:
I found out from a letter of His Majesty that you went from Vas (the county in which Castle Sárvár was located) to Transylvania, and I find that very surprising, since nothing good can come from Transylvania. The same land from which we collect the harvest is also the land from which we receive bad news. All are surprised about this, because you did not take possession of any property in Transylvania. You live from the yield and fat of this country, so why did you leave this country? We do not understand this, as we have learned from the first letter of our friend, about which I wrote, who highly questions me. This has affected me very much, and when I heard it, I was very bitter. God maintain your health.
Ferenc Nádasy, on the other hand, never appeared to speak ill of his wife in public and, on more than one occasion, defended her honor against what would soon become an increasingly critical clergy. In correspondence with others, he spoke either lovingly of her or simply referred to her state of health.
9
COMING OF AGE (1585-1600)
By her mid-twenties, Countess Báthory had finally settled into a routine. Ferenc was routinely away fighting the Turks now, and it became clear even to his family staff that the Lady Nádasdy was there to stay. She was now the one to whom they would report. During these years, she spent the majority of her time at Sárvár and Kereszstúr castles, the centerpieces of the Nádasdy family holdings. However, she visited all of the other properties at least once a year. She also resided periodically at the family manor in Vienna, co-owned with the Batthyányi family. When Castle Sárvár underwent a substantial reconstruction, the Countess chose to spend more time at her other residences.
We can say that her lifestyle was typical of noblewomen of her time. Upon arising, she would begin a rather lengthy process of dressing, typically with the assistance of her ladies in waiting. If attending a formal event or receiving visitors, she would have to rise very early, even before sunrise, to begin a more elaborate process that involved extensive hair and makeup work. On an ordinary day, the process could take two to three hours; for affairs of state, possibly four to six. Breakfast might be taken during or after the procedure, depending on time constraints.
On a typical day, she would spend time looking after the estate, managing staff, consulting with her court officials and supervisors, dictating or writing letters, paying bills, reviewing documents, making rounds both inside and outside the manor, and receiving visitors. Lunch would be taken around 11:00 a.m. In later years, after the birth of her children, she would look in on them and meet with their nannies and tutors. She would also spend time at chapel and religious services.
Depending on how many appointments she had scheduled, some free time might be available. Leisure time included horseback riding, picnics, hunts, drives into town, and reading. We know that the Countess enjoyed going to the spa at Pieštány, as well as shopping and attending concerts in Vienna. Some noblewomen played musical instruments and created elaborate handicrafts, although we have no record of Countess Báthory engaging in either pursuit. In addition to affairs of state and appearances at court, parties were common; the nobility entertained frequently. Also, traveling musicians, entertainers, acting troupes and poets often came to town to perform.
Dinner would be served around 6:00 p.m. She had the option to eat in the formal diningroom or have dinner brought up to her by staff. If no visitors or parties were scheduled for the evening, the Countess would retreat to her bed chamber by dark. According to witnesses, her “evening entertainments” could go on for hours after that.
In Erzsébet’s time, the household staff was divided primarily into male servants who answered to the Lord (e.g., the castellan, steward, house manager, stable master, etc.) and the female servants who answered primarily to the Lady (kitchen staff, washer women, seamstresses, and so forth). Both Lord and Lady also had personal attendants who waited on them, helped them dress, and kept them company. When the Lord was away, administrative direction for the entire staff came from the Lady of the House who also took charge in his absence.
In the case of the vast Nádasdy holdings that included dozens of castles, manor homes, villages, thousands of acres of land and hundreds of staff members, Erzsébet was ultimately responsible for running all of it when Ferenc was away. She was also responsible for arbitrating disputes for servants and locals, maintaining defenses against the Turks along the border, and even conducting sensitive matters of diplomacy.
For example, in 1587, her uncle, Cardinal András Báthory, sent a private message to Erzsébet who, apparently, was running the estate by herself at the time:
Let this present letter be delivered by hand to my beloved sister…I desire everything be well for my beloved sister. I had to depart to Rome and inform them of the sad news of the death of King István (Báthory, King of Poland and Silesia). I pray that the man who delivered this letter to you remains lodged at your court unknown, for his mission requires that he meet at the first opportunity. My man escorted the noble lord from Venice. He is a large supporter of our family and thus, I ask your pardon on this, that you take care of him. I trust that your court has enough of everything which he requires.
(The reader will notice that the term sister was used in those days as a term of endearment.)
More than ten years into the marriage, there are still no obvious signs that Erzsébet was on a collision course to becoming one of the worst serial killers of all time. On May 12, 1588, for example, she wrote a short letter in her typically curt style. However, it is courteous and completely normal by all accounts, demonstrating that she had at least a cordial relationship with a certain Mrs. Ponticzka:
So then, how are you, dear Mrs. Ponticzka, our good sister. Greetings. I wish to say that, if you so desire, send me at once a book about ailments of the back, and that you write and tell me how Lord Ghuczi is, and about yourself, if you are happy or not.
Her Ladyship, Erzsébet Báthory (by her own hand)
Another letter sent off by the Countess, now 29 years old, was dated November 5, 1589. This one was written to a family servant, Imre Vasvari:
…We have received your letter along with the supplies of food. We especially thank you for the delivery. Be advised that even if my husband does not return home, you should know, sir, that these provisions should still be sent to us. Accordingly, heed us, that you are to send on Saturday as usual whatever you have on hand and the rest later on or else, behold, I will be angry because I expect to entertain when my husband himself returns home. For tomorrow evening, send cod and crawfish. I understand that you distributed food to the poor, but accordingly, we establish that you care for the estate and act in accordance to adjust the kitchen for whatever we need. Let God provide for you.
While Erzsébet Báthory typically wrote in a formal style, and Vasvari might have deserved her anger, there is a certain tone of lofty or superior impatience that can now be found in her writing. This same sort of imperious tone can also be observed in letters to her Court Master, Benedikt (Benedek) Deseö, whom she rebuked several times, and in other examples of Erzsébet’s correspondence, which she herself maintained. Indeed, several of these logs or journals of her conversations were used as source material by hostile witnesses testifying against her in later years. By the 1580’s, Erzsébet Báthory was clearly the Lady of the House and running a tight ship.
From her letter, there is also a suggestion that she felt tension to make certain everything was in perfect order for Ferenc’ arrival home and that the estate be well supplied with provisions. Lord Nádasdy’s homecomings were cause for great pomp and circumstance. Accompanied by his lieutenants and at
tending retinue, Hungary’s Chief Captain of the Army arrived amidst a flurry of trumpets, drums, banners and battle flags. In some cases, hundreds of his troops came along as well, pitching tents and setting up camp outside the castle on the estate property.
Ferenc brought with him the spoils of war, including captured horses and livestock, and wagon trains loaded down with anything that he and his men could carry off: tapestries, carpets, furniture, weapons, musical instruments, kitchenware, silks, jewels, and gold. The inner rooms of his castles were a cross between a museum and a storage room. When the plundered spoils overflowed, they were moved down into cellars and underground tunnels.
Dozens of pigs, chickens, sheep, and game were slaughtered for the feasting that followed. Often, neighboring nobility and family members would be invited to visit, many staying on for days. Reveling went on all night. After the presentation of various speeches, toasts, and entertainments, the Lord and his closest guests sat drinking and laughing in front of the fire long after the Lady and her retinue went to bed. For the staff, it was a grueling marathon of keeping cups filled, plates full, beds made, stables cleaned, garments washed, and halls cleared. Both Lord and Lady’s staff were on high alert until the last guest finally departed. After that, the long clean-up process began.
Before departing himself, Ferenc and Erzsébet sat together or with their administrators to discuss household business: taxes that needed to be paid, paperwork requiring signatures and seals, decisions regarding salaries and stipends, upkeep on property, and funds needed to run the estates during Lord Nádasdy’s coming sojourn. Directives were issued, and then the Lord and his men began loading up their wagons with provisions, buckling on swords, and saddling up their horses. The front was never far from Ferenc Nádasdy’s properties, and his military services were in constant demand from both King and Emperor. Likely, he didn’t mind; prior to and throughout the course of the Fifteen Years War, or so-called “Long War” (1593-1606), Ferenc was present at nearly every battle, fighting continuously even when in ill health until his death in 1604.
10
THE NÁDASDY CHILDREN
One matter still remained open, however: the issue of children and heirs to the family fortune. There is no record of a child until the birth of their daughter, Anna, around 1585, ten years after the couple wed. It is not completely clear why Erzsébet and Ferenc waited so long to have children: commentators have speculated the obvious, that Ferenc was away at war so often that it was a physical impossibility.
Others have speculated that Ferenc resented his deflowered bride for years after their wedding. It may also be that the two secretly hated each other, with even the possibility that both ultimately preferred the company of the same sex. Again, however, any hatred between them was either kept private or, at least, their servants remained discreet regarding the matter. Eyewitness testimony does not dwell on any obvious or open hostility between the couple.
This would be typical of the time, however. Since marriages amongst nobles were arranged for them as children and established primarily for business or political reasons, couples rarely married for love. Many kept lovers on the side. Legally, the marital arrangement demanded that the couple attend public functions together, have children, and exhibit polite courtesy to the other. Behind closed doors, however, it was quite a different story. The love expressed between Tamás and Orsolya Nádasdy was the rare exception; the typical aristocratic couple slept in separate bedrooms, maintained separate personal staff and, with rare exception, had little to do with the other.
It may also be, however, that Erzsébet had fertility problems. At the time, much of the Hungarian nobility suffered from problems of sterility and infertility, including related problems of venereal disease; the birth rate, in general, was low. Some aristocratic couples turned to religious or magical sources for assistance: one could purchase a translation of the Book of Magic from a bookdealer in Venice, or perhaps try a Persian or Turkish potion disseminated from oral tradition out of Transylvania. Folk remedies included the licking of genitals in the manner of a cat; expensive alternatives included the purchase of a holy relic or a magical stone such as a green emerald or aquamarine talisman to enhance the marriage, protect the wearer from infidelity, and grant fertility.
We know that during this time, Erzsébet sought out the assistance of Countess Eva Poppel Lobkovitz, wife of family friend, Ferenc Batthyányi. Countess Eva was reputed to be an excellent herbalist and practitioner of folk medicine. In general, Countess Báthory preferred herbal and spa treatments throughout her life rather than the traditional medical treatments of the day. Likely, the orthodox methods of leeching, cutting, and barbering would have done her little good, anyway.
In any case, children were eventually born. By mid-1596, we know that the couple had three living children: daughters Anna, Orsolya (Orsika), and Katalin (Kata), and that Erzsébet was pregnant with son András. Anna was born roughly in the year 1585. We are not certain as to Orsika’s year of birth, although it was probably some time around 1590, and daughter Katalin followed in approximately 1594. It is likely that Anna and Orsolya were named after Erzsébet’s and Ferenc’ mothers, respectively, and Katalin perhaps after Erzsébet’s aunt on her mother’s side.
We find from her letters that Erzsébet Báthory was a good wife and mother. In May of 1596, for example, she mailed a letter to Ferenc on their three girls’ well-being:
At your service, I write to you as my beloved husband,
Regarding the children, I can report that Anna and Orsika are healthy. Regarding Kata, however, there is a problem in her mouth: namely, rot has spread there, such that even the jawbone is infected. The Barber poked about the middle of the tooth with an iron—he says it was a stroke of luck that not a single tooth fell out. I do not know how the Lord will bring the matter to an end but right now, it is, in any case, very bad for her. About myself, I can write that things are now going much better than in the past few days….
Written at Sárvár, On Friday after the Ascension of the Lord (May 24), 1596
Your Servant,
Erzsébet Báthory (by her own hand)
Two months later, she also wrote:
At your service, I write to you, my beloved Lord,
Regarding the children, I can report that Anna, thank God, is healthy, Kata has eye pain, and Orsika the mouth rot. I am healthy, thank God; only the eyes hurt me. God keep you.
Written at Sárvár, on the 8th day of the Month of St. James (July), 1596
Your Servant,
Erzsébet Báthory (by her own hand)
In the latter half of that same year, 1596, son András was born. Two years, later, son Pál arrived in 1598. András lived briefly until the age of seven, passing away in 1603, and daughter Orsika was also deceased by 1610. By the date of her Will in 1610, Countess Báthory would identify only three surviving children, to whom she left her entire estate: daughters Anna and Kata, and son, Pál. As the only surviving male heir, the primary estate at Sárvár would ultimately go to Pál.
Some chronicles also indicate that the couple had another son, albeit a lesser-known child, named Miklós, although this cannot be confirmed at present. Records indicate that a certain Miklós Nádasdy de Nádasd et Fogarasföld married Countess Zsuzsanna Zrínyi. We are not certain of his birth year or date of death, unfortunately, although it appears that Miklós was within the same generation as Pál and the other Nádasdy children. We are not certain of his lineage, either, given the somewhat scanty genealogical records left to us today. He might have been a cousin.
By the time of Pál’s birth, Erzsébet was already 38 years old, and her mothering days were nearing an end. Miklós bore the surname and title Nádasdy de Nádasd et Fogarasföld like the rest of her children. However, he did not appear to grow up at the family seat at Sárvár. It also appears that he was not placed under the guardianship of Imre Megyeri, like brother Pál. Nanny and wetnurse Ilona Jó testified to having raised the Nádasdy girls and Pál, but made no
mention of Miklós (although she might simply have been too old by then to care for him). Finally, in her Will of 1610, the Countess references only three children—Anna, Kata, and Pál —making no mention of Miklós. This would suggest then that, as mentioned, he was either a cousin of the Nádasdy children or, although formally recognized by Ferenc Nádasdy in order to avoid scandal, the child was not his and, thus, raised quietly at one of the lesser estates with a surname but without any substantive birthright.
Typical of the time, noble mothers did not nurse or, for the most part, raise their own children. The Nádasdy children were entrusted to the care of a nurse, or dajka. In this case, her name was Ilona Jó, the wife of coachman István Nagy. Some say that she was also Erzsébet’s nurse, as well. Although she would ultimately assist in running the torture chambers of her Ladyship’s Castle at Csejthe (Cachtice), there is no record that she in any way mistreated the children of her Lord and Lady. And Countess Erzsébet, by all accounts, cared about her children and provided well for them. She made certain that her daughters received lavish wedding celebrations, partnering them with illustrious young men from the Drugeth de Homonnay and Zrínyi families, two of the few remaining dynasties of comparable importance. She also made certain that her son Pál received a fine education and that he acquired the family seat of her estate, despite later legal complications.
Infamous Lady: The True Story of Countess Erzsébet Báthory Page 5
