Reconstruction

Reconstruction after the Fifteen Years' War stretched out over a considerable period. Although precise information is lacking, it seems that the material damage was not fully repaired until the middle of the 17th century, when Transylvania regained most of its prewar splendor. It also seems that the princes were determined to pursue the restoration to prewar standards; repairs figured regularly on the diet's agenda. On Gabriel Bethlen's instructions, the diet passed a succession of resolutions concerning reconstruction of the princely seat at Gyulafehérvár. Funds were also allocated for renovation of the famous church in Kolozsvár's Farkas Street and of the most important fortress, at Várad.

Much was accomplished during Bethlen's reign. The princely palace, which had been gutted by fire, was renovated on his orders; the steeple of Gyulafehérvár's 'older' church was rebuilt and equipped with clock and bells. He had new bastions raised at Gyulafehérvár, a palace built at Várad, and many castles renovated.

Bethlen could not complete the immense task of reconstruction. When, in 1627, he drew the diet's attention to the 'degraded and destroyed state' of Gyulafehérvár, the feudal orders agreed with him in principle but refused to fund further reconstruction. It is not known when the authorities finally decided to act on the prince's recommendation and launch a building program in Gyulafehérvár; it may have occurred during the reign of György Rákóczi I, for evidently there was much work left to be done in the 1630s.

György Rákóczi I brought in foreign stonemasons to reconstruct the 'long-abandoned old church' in Farkas Street, Kolozsvár. {2-182.} Due to an error of the Italian master builder, one section had to be twice rebuilt. The Gothic arches were finally restored by a craftsman from Kurland. On the prince's instructions, a number of other projects were completed. Torda's vast church, 'dating from the time of György Basta', was raised from its ruins. In Dés, a 'long abandoned' tall building owned by the salt office got a new tile roof, and the great bridge next to the office was reconstructed. In Várad, an entire burned-down district was cleared away. The chroniclers of his son's reign mention no renovations, only new constructions, which suggests that György Rákóczi I completed the task of restoring Transylvania to the shape it had in the golden age of Báthori.

Apparently, then, it took forty years to repair the war damage. That may seem long by modern standards, but it was probably a considerable achievement in the context of the slow-moving feudal system, and all the more because the reconstruction in Transylvania — as in other similarly affected regions of Europe — coincided (insofar as it can be traced) with an important phase in architectural history. When new social strata rise to political influence, they generally adopt an architectural style congruent with their specific needs. Similarly, the scale of postwar reconstruction offers an opportunity for the adoption of new styles, which may or may not be linked to social change. In short, major architectural projects are driven, in peacetime, by the changing tastes of powerful social groups, and, in postwar periods, by the simple need for massive reconstruction.

Not surprisingly, then, the reigns of Gábor Báthori and György Rákóczi I marked an important phase in Transylvania's architectural history. The princes' personal role was far from negligible. Few of their projects involved wholly new construction; most aimed at the reconstruction of old buildings, though probably with some new features. The latter undertakings were nevertheless significant, for they followed more or less consistent architectural principles and helped to spread the then modern styles of the Renaissance in {2-183.} Transylvania. Splendid arcades, Italian-style roofs, and airy buildings resulted from their efforts. Gabriel Bethlen even managed to add something to the harmonious perfection of Vajdahunyad Castle. However, the most important development in this period of great reconstruction came about independently of the princes.

This development was manifested not only in architecture but in the culture as a whole. In architecture, the Renaissance style reached down to the work of master builders in the villages. In the broader cultural context, even the peasantry came under the influence of Renaissance values. This is not to say that village dwellings came to sport loggia staircases, frescoes depicting mythological figures, or stuccoed, vaulted ceilings; in Transylvania, like elsewhere, such costly Renaissance features were restricted to the castles of the more prosperous landowners and the homes of the wealthiest burghers. Peasant women did not come to play virginals, nor peasant men settle down after a day's ploughing to versify about the beauty of nature. They did not assimilate such lofty forms of entertainment from their betters. And yet the essence of the Renaissance — shorn of its intellectual and material ornamentation — did reach Transylvania's villages.

This essence was the revelation of a clear and ordered relationship between man and his environment. In architecture, this meant not so much fancy technique as a rational groundplan. The innovation brought by the Renaissance lay in structural change to the living space: man's dwelling was adapted to needs that had changed since the Middle Ages. The focus was on the home; it is not accidental that the Renaissance style had little impact on church construction. Dwellings and their environment underwent considerable change: the home was designed less to provide protection from the outside world than to facilitate the activities and relaxation of its occupants. Some features disappeared: nooks and alcoves, differences of grade between rooms, internal stairs and randomly located exits for easy escape. Windows became larger and acquired {2-184.} glazing, thus allowing those inside to see out, and vice versa. Home life spread beyond the walls to encompass floral gardens. Flowers were planted purely for aesthetic pleasure, and were brought indoors in ceramic pots to ornament the rooms. Renaissance man no longer feared nature; he took delight in it. And just as his home was expanded by the addition of a garden, so was his town opened up with promenades. For the first time, people would go on outings to the towns' hinterland.

The very structure of settlements changed. The helter-skelter layout of villages gave way to orderly rows of houses differentiated according to their owners' social status. In the towns, narrow alleys gave way to broad streets. Squares were laid out at intersections, and adorned with fountains, statues, or even turned into small parks. To improve sanitary conditions, plans were drawn up for sewage systems. Man's living space generally became more airy and rationally ordered.

Wholly Renaissance towns did not materialize in Transylvania, for no new towns were established after the 16th century. However, the medieval towns' appearance was modified thanks to the efforts of princes and citizens. Gabriel Bethlen had underground pipes laid to supply Gyulafehérvár with water from springs. Two fountains, one in the market square, the other behind the great church, were fed from this source. György Rákóczi I showed particular interest in townscapes: in Gyalu, he had the 'tight little' market square expanded 'in order to enhance the view from the houses'.[93]93. Szalárdi, p. 295. At Gyulafehérvár, he improved the soil on a bastion and planted an orchard and flower garden. Beyond this, there is little concrete evidence, but since both Bethlen and the elder György Rákóczi were enthusiastic builders, it is likely that the shape of modern Transylvanian towns owes much to them.

The Saxons followed a separate course, for they allowed no external interference in their construction activities. Their medieval towns had been laid out less densely than was the practice elsewhere {2-185.} in the principality, for their streets were designed to offer shelter to people from the surrounding districts in case of peril. Still, there are streets in both Szeben and Beszterce where the uniform style of the houses points to Renaissance town-planning. Descriptive accounts of the Szászföld, dating from the mid-1600s, make reference to places suitable for outings in the vicinity of the larger towns, which was clearly a recent development.

Transylvania's villages underwent changes that were less spectacular but perhaps more important. The basic layout of the settlements was not always altered, and thus the change may have been less conspicuous, but it was rooted in the transformation of society. Once ruled by kinship, the location of residences came to reflect socioeconomic standing. As this shift occurred, the structure of the settlements became more stable. Earlier, villages had spread like great amoebas; their inner structure and boundaries were in a constant state of change. Now, a more enduring layout emerged. This trend, which prevailed countrywide, began in the Middle Ages, but took effect at a very slow pace. The traditional pattern of settlement was deeply-rooted; people whose families had lived in close proximity since time immemorial were reluctant to move residence and join another local community. Even in today's villages, there is a considerable lag between social change and the consequent alteration in the physical structure of the community. For example, after the socialist collectivization of agriculture, decades would pass before the odd apartment building appeared in rural areas. There was great resistance to abandoning the pattern, associated with private farming, of individual homes on separate plots of land.

It is likely that the medieval pattern of settlement, based on kinship, was equally resistant to change. In Transylvania, its transformation was accelerated by the necessity of sweeping reconstruction after the Fifteen Years' War. There is no precise information on this process, but it is clear from 17th century registers that {2-186.} most villages had acquired a ground plan that was stable and reflected the financial standing of the inhabitants. Apparently, then, the destructive war and the subsequent homelessness and instability weakened people's attachment to ancient patterns of settlement; the reconstructed villages were of a new type.

The new-style settlements were located on or near the site of their predecessors. A few acquired new names, but most settlements retained their traditional, 16th century toponyms. It is also indicative of this geographic continuity that, despite the devastation, medieval church buildings remained in use. Of the many medieval churches in Transylvania, very few were abandoned or left in ruins. On the other hand, a fair number of settlements were located at some distance from their churches, indicating that the returning villagers had chosen a new site.

Although some of the reestablished settlements still consisted of eccentric clusters of dwellings, the typical 17th century village clearly displayed the socioeconomic differences among its inhabitants. The houses were not necessarily lined up along streets, but they were usually spaced evenly, in a more or less regular pattern, around a natural or artificially-devised village center. The space between the houses was determined by the size of the plot; the house on a full lot was twice the size on one on a half lot, and the line of houses extended in symmetrical fashion. The size of plots decreased with the distance from the center; the stretch of full lots was followed by segments of half, quarter, and eighth lots. The larger, inner lots accommodated not only the owner but also his relatives or farmhands and their families, all of whom shared in the performance of socage duties.

There were many variations on this basic model, particularly in terms of size. For example, in 1637, the villages on the Fogaras domain consisted of anywhere from five to sixty-seven lots. Some settlements had lots varying in size from a full to an eighth. In others, notably on the Kórodszentmárton domain, lots were of equal {2-187.} size: full lots in the villages of Kórodszentmárton and Zágor, half lots in Szénaveres. Others, like Kisszőlős and Nádas, had full and half lots.

With this ordering of the inner layout, there emerged a village of the modern type, in which peasants lived in regularly spaced houses separated according to economic status. Since this model resembled the stratified structure of towns, it might be assumed that it was adopted in the first place by communities that came closest to the urban type, but such was not the case.

The Saxon villagers were differentiated from town dwellers only by their mode of production; being free of feudal obligations, they had the same legal status. Yet they did not follow the above trend in the restructuring of their communities. Until the mid-1600s, their links of kinship outweighed economic considerations. The Saxons' fortified churches testify to this fact. The inner side of their thick walls was lined with small rooms that served, in peacetime, for storage, and in times of peril as shelters. Each peasant family had exclusive use of one of these rooms; they cooperated in safeguarding their possessions, and took refuge together. It is likely that they lived in clusters of houses.

Nor did Romanian shepherds adopt the modern type of village structure. Although more and more of them turned to farming, which required that they stay in one place at least through the production cycle, their lifestyle, and thus their villages, remained marked by the tradition of transhumance.

The second serfdom was associated with the appearance of the modern type of village, which came to predominate in Transylvania by the mid-1600s, when the reconstruction phase was reaching its end. It is in this environment that the villeins were compelled to resume their prewar feudal obligations. Transylvania's villages had acquired a shape that would survive the ravages and social changes of the succeeding centuries.