Now let us see which side the Danube took in the controversy in the spring of 1876. On the 17th of February the public mind had been almost tranquillised by the gradual fall of the water-level, but appearances changed very rapidly on the morning of the 18th, for alarming intelligence came to Buda-Pest from the Upper Danube. It seems that a sudden rise of temperature had melted the vast deposits of snow in the mountains of the Tyrol and other high ranges which send down their tributary waters to the Danube. A telegram from Pa.s.sau announced the startling news that the waters of the Inn had risen eleven feet since the afternoon of the previous day, and further news came that the Danube had risen twelve and a half feet in the same time. Following close upon this came intelligence of a disastrous inundation at Vienna which had caused loss of life and property. The boats and barges in the winter harbour of the Austrian capital had been dragged from their anchorage, covering the river with the _debris_ of wreckage; in short, widespread mischief was reported generally from the Upper Danube.

There was a prevalent idea that Buda-Pest had been saved by the flood breaking bounds at Vienna, but events proved that our troubles were yet to come. There was a peculiarity in the thaw of this spring which told tremendously against us. It came westward--viz., down stream instead of up stream, as it usually does. This state of things greatly increased the chances of flood in the middle Danube, as the descending volume of water and ice-blocks found the lower part of the river still frozen and inert. Even up to the 21st the daily rise in the river was only six inches, and if the large floes of ice which pa.s.sed the town had only gone on their course without interruption all might still have been well. Unfortunately, however, this was far from being the case. It seems that at Eresi, a few miles below Buda-Pest, where the water is shallow, the ice had formed into a compact ma.s.s for the s.p.a.ce of six miles, and at this point the down-drifting ice-blocks got regularly stacked, rising higher and higher, till the whole vast volume of water was bayed back upon the twin cities of Buda and Pest, the latter place being specially endangered by its site on the edge of the great plain.

The authorities now devised plans for clearing away this ice-barrier, which acted as an impediment to the flow of the river. They tried to blow it up by means of dynamite, but all to no purpose; and it soon became apparent that the danger to the capital was hourly on the increase. At Pest the excitement and alarm became intense, for the mighty waters were visibly and inexorably rising. We saw the steps of the quay disappear one after another; then the whole subway of the embankment became engulfed. Ominous cracks appeared in the asphaltic promenade of the Corso, and the public were warned not to approach the railings, lest they should give way bodily and fall over into the water, which was lapping at the stonework. The "High-Water Commission" found it necessary to close all the drains, and steam-pumps were brought into requisition; the town was in fact besieged by water, and the enemy was literally at the gates. The ordinary business of life was suspended. The greeting in the street was not, "Good-day; how are you?" but, "What of the Danube?" "Do you know the last reading of the register?" "Does the water still rise?"

"Still rising"--this was always the answer. On the morning of the 23d the river had risen upwards of two feet in twenty-four hours. Hundreds of people now thought seriously of flight from the doomed city. There was a complete exodus to the heights behind Buda. The suspension bridge was crowded day and night by the citizens, carrying with them their wives, their children, and a miscellaneous collection of valuables. In the town the shopkeepers removed their goods to the upper stories, plastering up the doors and windows of the bas.e.m.e.nt with cement; and careful householders laid in provisions for several days' consumption.

The authorities had enough on their hands; amongst other things they had to provide means of rescue, if necessary, for the inhabitants of Old Buda, New Pest, and other low-lying quarters. The names of all public buildings standing on higher levels, or otherwise suitable as places of refuge, were notified in the event of a catastrophe. Boats also were drawn up on the Corso and in some of the squares. From the want of these precautions there had resulted that lamentable loss of life in 1838.

Furthermore, the public were to be informed when the danger became imminent by the firing of cannon-shots from the citadel on the lofty Blocksberg, which dominates the town on the Buda side. The day of the 24th had been wild and stormy, the evening was intensely dark; but notwithstanding, thousands, nay half Pest, crowded the river-bank. For hours this surging mult.i.tude moved hither and thither on the Corso, drawn together by the sense of common danger and distress.

I was there amongst the rest, peering into the darkness. My brother's arm was linked in mine, and we stood for some time on the Corso, just above the fruit-market, facing Buda; but nothing, not even the outline of the hills, was visible in the thick, black darkness of the night.

"Ah! what is that?--look!" cried my brother, with a pressure of the arm that sent an electric shock through my body. Yes, sure enough, there was a flash of fire high up on the Blocksberg that made a rift in the darkness; and then, before we had time for speech, there came a sharp, ringing, detonating sound that made every window in the Corso rattle again. Once, twice, thrice the booming cannon roared out its terrible warning. It was the appointed signal, and we all knew that now the waters had risen so high that Old Buda and other low-lying districts were in danger.

That was a terrible night. The general excitement was intense, and there were few people, I imagine, in all Pest who slept quietly in their beds.

Every hour news came of the spread of the inundation. The waters were pouring in behind Pest from the upper bend of the river. Matters looked very serious indeed. All communication with the suburb of New Pest was cut off by the inroads of the flood. The night, with its pall of darkness, seemed interminable; but at length the morning came, and--G.o.d help us!--what a sea of trouble the light revealed! Whole districts under water; churches and palaces knee-deep in the flood; and above Pest--a widespread lake creeping on over the vast plain.

The only news of the morning was a despairing telegram from Eresi that the barrier of ice there was immovable. This meant, as I have said before, that there was no release for the pent-up waters in the ordinary course. The acc.u.mulated flood must swamp the capital, and that soon. The river had ceased to flow past; it was no longer the "blue Danube"

running merrily its five miles an hour, but a dead sea, an inexorable volume of water, slowly, silently creeping up to engulf us. Pest is a city which literally has its foundations made on the sand; a portion of it is built on the old bed of the Danube. a.s.suming a certain point as zero, the official measurements were made from this, and notices were published that if a maximum of twenty-five feet were attained by the rising waters, then Pest must inevitably be flooded.

As evening came on, with the cloudy forecast of more rain, the gravest anxiety was visible on the face of every soul of that vast mult.i.tude.

This anxiety was intensified when it was announced that the latest measurement was twenty-four feet nine inches; and what was simply appalling, that the register marked six inches rise in less than an hour. It was clear to every one that the critical moment had arrived.

There was little to hope, and much to fear. Darkness fell upon as dismal a scene as imagination could well conceive. If the water once overlapped the embankment at the fruit-market, it must very soon pour in in vast volume; for the streets there are considerably lower than the level of the Corso--as it was, several large blocks of ice had floated or slid over on the quay. At this spot a serious catastrophe was apprehended.

I think it must have been ten o'clock (my friends and I had just taken a hasty supper) when the fortress on the Blocksberg again belched forth its terrible sound of warning. This time there were six shots fired; this was the signal of "Pest in danger." A profound impression of alarm fell on the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude. Some went about wringing their hands; others left the Corso hastily, going home, I imagine, to tell their women to prepare for the worst. I was unconscious at the time of taking note of things pa.s.sing round me, and it seems strange, considering the acute tension of my nerves, that I saw, and can now recall with persistent accuracy, a lot of trivial and utterly unimportant incidents that happened in the crowd. I remember the size and colour of a dog that manifested his share in the common excitement by running perpetually between everybody's legs, and I could draw the face of a frightened child whom I saw clinging to its mother's skirts.

We never quitted the Corso. Though this was the third night we had not taken off our clothes, it was impossible to think of rest now. I felt no fatigue, and I hardly know how the last hour or two pa.s.sed, but I heard distinctly above the murmur of voices the town clocks strike twelve.

Just afterwards, a man running at full speed broke through the crowd, shouting as he went, "The water is falling! the water is falling!" He spoke in German, so I understood the words directly. There was great excitement to ascertain if the report was correct. Thank G.o.d! he spoke words of truth. The gauge actually marked a decrease of no less than two inches in the height of the river, and this decrease had taken place in the s.p.a.ce of half an hour. The river had attained the highest point when the danger-signal was fired. It had never risen beyond, though the level had been stationary for some time.

Every one was surprised at the rapid fall of the Danube; it was difficult to account for. It soon came to be remarked that the vast volume of water was visibly moved onward. If the river was flowing on its way, that meant the salvation of the city--the fact was most important. I myself saw a dark ma.s.s--a piece of wreckage, probably, or the carca.s.s of an animal--pa.s.s with some rapidity across a track of light reflected on the water. It was difficult to make out anything clearly in the darkness, but I felt sure the object, whatever it was, was borne onward by the stream.

It was a generally-expressed opinion that something must have happened farther down the river to relieve the pent-up waters. Very shortly official news arrived, and spread like wildfire, that the Danube had made a way for itself right across the island of Csepel into the Soroksar arm of the river.

Csepel is an island some thirty miles long, situated a short distance below Pest. The engineering works for the regulation of the Danube had, as I said before, closed this Soroksar branch, and the river, in rea.s.serting its right of way to the sea, caused a terrible calamity to the villages on the Csepel Island, but thereby Hungary's capital was saved.

[Footnote 22: The Danube at Buda-Pest. Report addressed to Count Andra.s.sy by J.J. Revy, C.E. 1876.]

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

Results of the Danube inundations--State of things at Baja--Terrible condition of New Pest--Injuries sustained by the island garden of St. Marguerite--Charity organisation.

Though Buda-Pest had escaped the worst of the threatened calamity, the state of the low-lying suburbs of the town on both sides of the river was very serious, and, as it turned out, weeks elapsed before the waters entirely subsided. The extent of the Danube inundations in 1876 was far greater than the flood of 1838; the latter was localised to Buda-Pest, where, from the suddenness of the catastrophe, the sacrifice of life was far greater than at present. But on this occasion the mischief was wide spread indeed. From Pa.s.sau to Orsova the banks of the Danube were more or less flooded. The havoc below Pest was wellnigh incalculable. The river had in places spread itself out like a small sea, inundating lands already in seed; this was specially the case at Paks, where both banks of the river are equally low--as a rule, the left side was the more flooded the whole way along.

At Baja the destruction to property was most serious. Some very important works had just been completed, and these were all swept away two days after the Danube had burst over the Csepel Island at Pest. It is a matter of interest to note the travelling rate of the flood, which from being ice-clogged was less rapid than one would suppose. Baja is 120 miles below Pest.

The works here referred to were in parts a ca.n.a.l, to feed the old Francis Ca.n.a.l, which connects the Danube and Theiss, in order to prevent the stoppage of traffic, unavoidable at low water. The water and ice brought down by the flood hurled themselves with such force against the closed gates of the ca.n.a.l that they were burst open, and a masonry wall 7 feet in thickness and 250 in length was entirely overthrown. This incident, together with many others, helps to ill.u.s.trate the action of water in flood as a factor in certain geological changes--the gorge of Kasan, to wit, where the Danube has broken through the Carpathian chain.

In the course of little more than a day the waters at Buda-Pest had fallen two and a half feet; but afterwards the fall was very slow indeed, which circ.u.mstance greatly protracted the misery of the unfortunate inhabitants of Old Buda and New Pest, the two districts most seriously compromised. Joining a relief party, I went in a pontoon to visit New Pest. Vast blocks of ice were lying heaped up amidst the _debris_ of the ruin they had made; whole terraces and streets were only distinguishable by lines of rubbish somewhat raised above the flood: the devastation was complete.

On our way to the pontoon we pa.s.sed a tongue of land which had not been submerged, with a few houses intact. In this street, if it may be so called, a crowd of more than a hundred women was collected; these were mostly seated on boxes or other fragments of furniture that had been saved; one and all had their faces turned towards the waste of waters, where their homes had been. I shall never forget their looks of mute despair; there was no crying, no noise, their very silence was a gauge of the utter misery that had befallen them.

The sea of trouble in which we found ourselves was strewn with wreckage of all kinds, including the bodies of many domestic animals. Doubtless many lives were lost; it will perhaps never be known how many. It was unfortunate that no service was organised for saving life at the bridges. Several lamentable accidents and loss of life took place owing to the drifting away of boats and barges up stream. A friend of mine saw a barge with four men on board jammed in between blocks of ice, and hurried under the suspension bridge and down the stream. No one was able to respond to the heart-rending appeals of the men, who very probably might have been saved if simply ropes had been hanging from the bridge.

I myself saw a poor fellow perish in those churning waters; it was terrible to think of his thus drowning in the presence of thousands of fellow-creatures.

The amount of wreckage that pa.s.sed Buda-Pest gave one some idea of the frightful amount of damage higher up the stream; there were heaps of barrels, woodstacks, trees, furniture, and even houses with their chimneys standing!

The beautiful island of St. Marguerite, just above Buda-Pest, suffered most severely. It was four feet under water; and the drift ice did immense damage to the trees, causing abrasions of the bark at eight to ten feet above the ground.

It may well be imagined that the Charity Organisation Committee had enough on their hands. Nearly 20,000 people sought the shelter provided in the public buildings and other places appointed by the authorities, and for fully a month after the catastrophe thousands had to be fed daily at the public expense.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

Expedition to the Marmaros Mountains--Railways in Hungary--The train stopping for a rest--The Alfold--Shepherds of the plain--Wild appearance of the Rusniacks--Slavs of Northern Hungary--Marmaros Szigeth--Difficulty in slinging a hammock--The Jews of Karasconfalu--Soda manufactory at Boeska--Romantic scenery--Salt mines--Subterranean lake.

The spring was already melting into summer--and the melting process is pretty rapid in Hungary--when an opportunity occurred enabling me to visit the north-eastern part of the country with a friend who was going to the Marmaros Mountains on business. Even this wild and remote district is not without railway communication, and we took our tickets for Szigeth, in the county of Marmaros, learning at the same time, to our great satisfaction, that we could go straight on to our destination without stopping. Though my friend is a Hungarian the route was as new to him as to myself.

The railway system has been enormously extended in this country during the last ten years. In Transylvania, in the Tokay Hegyalia, in the Zipsland, and in the mining district of Schemnitz a whole network of lines has been opened up. Our route from Debreczin to Szigeth is one of those recently opened. The railway statistics of Hungary are very significant of progress. In 1864 only 1903 kilometres were open, whereas ten years later the figures had risen to 6392 kilometres; and the extension has been very considerable even subsequently, though enterprise of every kind received a check in 1873, from which the country has not yet recovered.

I confess I was very glad to have come in for the days of the iron horse, for it would be difficult to imagine anything more tiresome than a drive on ordinary wheels across the vast Hungarian plain. It is so utterly featureless as to be even without landmarks. Except for the signs of the heavenly bodies, a man might, in a fit of absence, turn round and fail to realise whether he was going backwards or forwards.

Right or left, it is all the same monotonous dead level, with scarce an object on which to rest the eye. Here and there a row of acacia-trees may be seen marking the boundary of an estate, and near by the sure indication of a well in the form of a lofty pole balanced transversely; but even this does not help you, for "grove nods at grove," and what you have just seen on the right-hand side is sure somehow to be repeated on the left, so you are all at sea again.

Sometimes a mirage deludes the traveller in the Hungarian plain with the fair presentment of a lake fringed with forest-trees; but the semblance fades into nothingness, and he finds himself still in an endless waste, "without a mark, without a bound." Dreary, inexpressibly dreary to all save those who are born within its limits; for, strange to say, they love their level plain as well, every bit as well, as the mountaineer loves his cloud-capped home.

This plain--the Alfold, as it is called--comprises an area of 37,400 square miles, composed chiefly of rich black soil underlain by water-worn gravel--a significant fact for geologists. It is worthy of remark that the Magyar race is here found in its greatest purity. Here the followers of Arpad settled themselves to the congenial life of herdsmen. At the railway stations one generally sees a lot of these shepherds from the _puszta_, each with his axe-headed staff and sheepskin cloak, worn the woolly side outwards if the weather is hot.

They can be scented from afar, and their scent, of all bad smells, is one of the worst. The fact is, the shepherds keep their bodies well covered with grease to prevent injurious effects from the very sudden changes of temperature so common in all Hungary. This smearing of the skin with grease is also a defence against insects, which seems probable, if insects have noses to be offended.

Nowhere does the intrusion of modern art and its appliances strike one more curiously by force of contrast than in the wilder parts of Hungary.

Just outside the railway station life and manners are what they were two centuries ago, and yet here are the grappling-irons of civilisation. No doubt a change will come to all this substratum of humanity, but it takes time. Even the railways in these wilder parts have not exactly settled themselves down to the inexorable limits of "time tables." It occurred on this very journey that we stopped at some small station, for no particular reason as far as I could see, for n.o.body got in or out; but the heat was intense, and so we just made a halt of nearly an hour.

I could not make out what was up at first, but looking out I saw the stokers, pokers, and engine-driver all calmly enjoying their pipes, seated on the footboard on the shady side of the train! Some one or two people remarked that the officials in this part of the world were lazy fellows, but the pa.s.sengers generally appeared in no great hurry, and after a while the train moved on again. At several places on the line we pa.s.sed luggage trains waiting on the siding for their turn to be sent on to Buda-Pest. In many of these open trucks we noticed a considerable number of those fine Podolian oxen, common in these parts, and lots of woolly-haired pigs, that look for all the world like sheep at a distance.

The effect of tapping these out-lying districts is already producing its natural result; the cultivator finds a ready market for his produce, and the value of land is rising, and "_must_ rise in Hungary," says Professor Wrightson in his report on the agriculture of the Austro-Hungarian empire.[23]

In approaching Debreczin we noticed frequent instances of the efflorescence of soda-salts upon the surface of the soil. This occurrence greatly impairs the fertility of some parts of the Alfold.

Land drainage would probably cure this evil, but I do not fancy any serious experiments have been tried. Skill and labour have not yet been brought to bear on the greater part of the land in Hungary. It is a country where a vast deal has yet to be done, and such are the prejudices of the common people that improvements cannot be introduced at once and without some caution; in fact, the material conditions of the country itself and the climate necessitate considerable experience on the part of any foreigner who may settle in Hungary and think to import new fashions in agriculture.

Stopping at Debreczin only long enough to get a little supper at the station restaurant, we pursued our journey through the night. I do not imagine that we lost much that was worthy of note owing to the darkness, for the line continues to traverse a sanely plain utterly devoid of good scenery. Towards morning we pa.s.sed two important towns--namely, Nagy Karoly and Szathmar. The hitter is the seat of a Catholic bishop, and has no less than 19,000 inhabitants--a good-sized place for Hungary. In 1711 the peace between the Austrians and Rakoczy was signed in this town. Not far from here are the celebrated gold, silver, and lead mines of Nagy Banya.

We arrived at the junction station of Kiraly-haza early in the morning, and there learned the agreeable news that we must wait ten hours, though only a few miles from our destination. From this place there is a line to Satoralja-Uihely, a junction on the main line between Buda-Pest and Lemberg. The town of Kiraly-haza is situated in a wide valley bounded by high mountains. The plain is left far behind, and we are once more under the shadow of the Carpathians. The heat of the day was intense, and there was not much in the immediate neighbourhood to tempt us out in the broiling sun, so we just got through the time as best we could. The food was very bad and the wine execrable, an adulterated mixture not worthy of the name. This is a rare occurrence in Hungary, and it ought not to have been the case here, for there are good vineyards close to the town.

It was getting towards evening before our train appeared, and when it stopped at the station as wild a looking crew turned out of the carriages as I ever remember to have seen. On inquiry I found that these people were Rusniacks. Their occupation at this time of the year is to convey rafts down the Theiss. It seems their work was done, and they were returning by train. After the halt of ten minutes, and when the pa.s.sengers were resuming their seats, I found that these fellows were all crowded into some empty horse-boxes attached to the train. The officials treated them as if they were very little better than cattle.

These people, with their shoeless feet encased in thongs of leather, with garments unconscious of the tailor's art, and in some instances regardless of the primary object of clothes as a human inst.i.tution, were the most uncivilised of any I had yet seen in Hungary.