Gabriel Bethlen's Domestic Opposition

Bethlen's opponents at home were indifferent to his military pursuits but displayed great irritation at his efforts to create a splendid court. It is no mere coincidence that the long-simmering opposition of the feudal orders erupted just when Bethlen began to resort to such ostentatious displays to impress his allies. The Saxons were the first to raise their voice, when, in 1625, Bethlen proposed to set up princely stores in their towns; they were alarmed at the prospect of such competition. The Saxons considered taking countermeasures, then resorted to the implausible threat of suspending their own commercial activities. They declared in the diet that they would contribute neither money nor soldiers to the prince's campaigns, and refused to pay the tax.

The Saxons presumably expected to win the support of the majority, but while the diet was in a diffident mood, no one rallied to their side. That year's diet was sparsely attended; the feudal orders of the counties annexed to Transylvania by the Nikolsburg treaty were invited but failed to send delegates, and many of the invited Transylvanians also stayed home. The ever-pragmatic prince was unconcerned by the scant attendance and did not contemplate reprisals. Instead, he persuaded the reduced assembly to abolish the privileged autonomy of the Saxon 'nation'. A similar initiative had failed in 1614, presumably because the politicians — {2-96.} drawing on their long experience of resistance to central authority — understood that the privileges of the three feudal orders in Transylvania were interdependent. An attack on one could easily be turned against the other two. If the outcome was different in 1625, it is obviously because the select group that attended the session consisted of Bethlen loyalists.

The quiet opposition of the others had been maturing for years. The defection of Simon Péchi may have been its earliest manifestation. On 19 or 20 May 1621, Bethlen learned that Péchi planned to displace him as prince. The affair may have been only the tip of the iceberg, but Bethlen was not interested in plumbing the depths of opposition. In his customary fashion, he did not tarry to draw public attention to the plot but resorted to quick action: the chancellor and onetime confidant was imprisoned on trumped-up charges, and then forgotten by Bethlen. Péchi's relatives and friends, who were traditionally part of the opposition in Transylvania, chose not to confront Bethlen and displayed no interest in the former chancellor's fate. Only Péchi's brother-in-law, Ferenc Kornis, would try periodically to intercede on his behalf, but success was long in coming.

Change came only in the autumn of 1624, when a delegation of notables petitioned for Péchi's release. The prince responded in his usual pragmatic fashion. Instead of inquiring into the political motives of his visitors and their links with Péchi, he freed the latter on bail of 88,500 forints — a huge sum, roughly equivalent to a year's tax revenues in Transylvania.

Péchi was no longer a threat to him, for prolonged imprisonment had crushed the spirit and political ambitions of the former chancellor and pretender. But Bethlen could not ignore the group that had intervened on Péchi's behalf. The signatures on the bail papers encompassed an unprecedented cross-section of Transylvania's political elite. The nobles of the seven counties in Upper Hungary had never been disposed to join forces with the Transylvanians; {2-97.} yet now, led by one of their most powerful members, Menyhért Alaghy, they rallied to bail out Péchi. The signatories included Transylvanian Hungarians, Saxon notables, and Székelys such as István Lázár and Mózes Székely, as well as notables from Kolozsvár and other cities. It was opposition to Bethlen that impelled these disparate elements to take joint political action. Their initiative drew attention even beyond Transylvania's borders. A Hungarian nobleman dispatched by Ferdinand II to the Transylvanian diet of 1625 reported on a 'confederation' of the seven counties in Upper Hungary with the counties of the principality and with the hajdús. In creating this alliance, they had allegedly vowed eternal resistance to Bethlen and his wars. Their leader, Menyhért Alaghy, sent underlings to Transylvania to keep him informed about the prince's plans for war.

Yet there was little opportunity for active opposition in Bethlen's realm. The prince would not consult his hand-picked diet before taking important decisions. The opposition lacked the means to obstruct his military enterprises, for only a tiny portion of the expenses were covered from the taxes (60,000–80,000 forints) that came under the purview of the feudal orders, and Bethlen could carry on even if this contribution was denied. Still, there was mounting hostility to Bethlen in the diet. In 1626, the assembly was still docile enough to forego debate in naming Bethlen's second wife as successor to the throne. In 1627, however, the diet rejected a proposition of the prince — something that had not happened for a long time; as for his plan to build a new castle at Gyulafehérvár, the diet promised to consider it the following year and refused to vote the necessary funds. By 1628, the diet was emboldened to press a number of demands: that runaway villeins who had sought refuge on crown estates be handed back, that such villeins not be recruited into the army, and that devalued money be accepted in payment of taxes.

{2-98.} Faced with growing evidence of dissidence, Bethlen resorted to all manner of evasive devices. He took no direct action against his most powerful opponents, such as the immensely wealthy Menyhért Alaghy, who in 1625 acceded to the post of lord chief justice, the second highest honor in royal Hungary. One of them, György Haller, was formally charged with treason, but only after he had found shelter with Ferdinand II. Yet Bethlen could not condone unbridled opposition, and for once he chose to apply deterrence. In 1629, a minor figure, Márton Szombathelyi, was charged with treason. At his trial, which dragged on for months, the prosecution alleged that he had approached the sultan, the emperor, the king of Poland, and Moldavia's voivode with 'deceitful and harmful stratagems' aimed against Gabriel Bethlen, thus doing his utmost to 'bring disturbance to our poor country'.[62]62. EOE 8, p. 499. Szombathelyi counted on the sympathy of the judges, and this trust did not seem misplaced, for cases of high treason had been rare under Bethlen's rule. Yet the unthinkable came to pass: Márton Szombathelyi was found guilty and sentenced to death.

If Bethlen had further plans to deal with his political opponents, he lacked to time to implement them. Conscious of his approaching death, he devoted his last few months to the question of the counties assigned to him in the Treaty of Nikolsburg. He wanted to persuade his most influential supporter, György Rákóczi, to continue withholding fealty from Ferdinand II. But the young aristocrat was of a different mind on the matter. He wrote on the back of a letter he had received from Bethlen that 'they want me to adopt a bad and harmful course ... that they are unable carry out.'[63]63. Quoted in Szilágyi, Rákóczi György, p. 143.