A Peasant Society Awaiting Change

1. OLD AND NEW IN THE SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC LIFE OF TRANSYLVANIA

Urbanization and the Town–Village Nexus

The Landed Nobility: Innovation and Conservatism

In the counties, and to some extent in Székelyföld, large and medium estates continued to serve as the first testing ground for the modernization of agriculture. That process was both hindered and assisted by the factor of geography. Being surrounded by better-endowed agricultural regions, Transylvania could only compete in the markets east and west by concentrating on a few, qualitatively {3-40.} superior agricultural products. This option was facilitated by the fact that the Hungarian landed nobility and educated Saxons could exploit their foreign contacts to make use of the more advanced agricultural techniques found in Hungary, Austria, and Germany.

However, the acceleration of modernization induced severe social tensions. Baron Miklós Wesselényi was the first to introduce crop rotation when, in the late 1820s, he extended cultivation to fallow lands at Zsibó, hard by the Hungarian border. Two decades later, he was the first to import a mechanical thresher. Typically, the machine got stuck in the mud, and there was no craftsman available to rescue it other than a miller, who was reluctant to touch what he regarded as the work of the devil. Though Wesselényi would not dispense with socage labour, he did regulate and standardize the serfs' services, redefining the relationship as that of landlord and tenant. In 1831, he tried to realize a long-standing project by assigning tithes to a foundation for the prevention of famine and having the accounts reported at church services. Later, however, he complained of a lack of understanding on the part of the serfs, who tended to interpret his initiative as a sign of weakness. He tried to set a good example by planting trees, and he distributed seeds and saplings to the villagers, but the latter were not easily persuaded. In the meantime, there loomed the threat of overpopulation: the number of people living on the same plot of land had doubled. Wesselényi urged some serfs to move and find a better living elsewhere, but his advice was undermined by the lack of alternative opportunities for work. Thus, in the course of modernization, the antagonism between 'feudal' lord and peasant on Transylvania's large estates came to approximate that between two categories of landowners. Although they may have been unaware that their status was exceptional, the people of Zsibó were not caned for failing to make up their arrears in corvée, a common practice elsewhere.

Owing to Wesselényi's personal and political eminence, scholars have concentrated on his efforts at modernizing agriculture, and {3-41.} there is little information on other attempts and their effectiveness. Yet the demand for modernization continued to grow, and not simply as a consequence of a specific political outlook. The conservative-minded Lajos and Samu Jósika profited as much as the liberal Miklós Jósika from the introduction of crop rotation and the establishment a sugar mill at Csákigorbó, not far from Zsibó.

The time was not yet ripe for a significant agriculture-based industry, unless the distillation of brandy is put in this category. In Transylvania's counties, both entrepreneurial nobles and burghers intent on consolidating their privileged status tried their hand at distilling, but Jews gradually assumed a predominant role in the industry. Brandy-distilling was symptomatic of the prevailing poverty. At Kézdivásárhely, for instance, it helped to maintain the balance of the local economy, for the mash could be used in pig-breeding, and the brandy dulled the pain of hard physical labour. The number of Jews had doubled since 1800, and most of them had little option but to engage in distilling, which they could combine with their trade in agricultural goods. A legislative proposal in the 1790s had called for 'tolerance' in allowing Jews to 'engage in commerce and industry, and thereby become useful citizens.' In 1837, the authorities followed this up by confirming the right of residence of Jews who had already settled, not only in Gyulafehérvár but throughout the country; they also imposed a ban on further Jewish immigration, but to little practical effect.[32]32. OL, Erdélyi Kancelláriai Levéltár, Erdélyi Udvari Kancellária, Acta generalia, 1837, p. 94. The Jews, some of them serfs, others with their own serfs, thus became part of Transylvanian society. They enjoyed the protection of landowners while testing the flexibility of the feudal structure. Most of them settled in the towns, and from their ranks emerged an important element of the Hungarian middle class, the tenant-entrepreneur.

The modernization of agriculture, which began on the large estates, was propagated by owners' chief agents, or stewards. Wesselényi's steward, Benjámin Kelemen, was astute enough to buy a property near Kolozsvár, where, in the early 1840s, he began {3-42.} to liberate his serfs in return for cash compensation and thereby to spare both parties the drawbacks of socage. Coincidentally, a number of stewards published the results of their experiments, expounding the advantages of crop rotation. They did not always pick a Transylvanian setting for their model of the ideal agricultural entrepreneur.

Transylvanian stewards had acquired their expertise partly in Hungary, at the 'Georgicon' model farm in Keszthely, and partly on the large Transylvanian estates. Each year, several assistants gained experience on Wesselényi's estate before moving on to well-paid posts elsewhere. By the 1840s, there were some 600–700 qualified farm stewards in Transylvania. Meanwhile, the noblemen who owned medium and small estates still tended to give the task of supervision to one of their more resourceful — and often literate — serfs. Thus it was an oversimplification, however well-intentioned, to complain that 'precious animals are kept much as they were hundreds of years ago.'[33]33. Brassai, 'Népnevelés és még valami.'

Although, according to tax assessments, the nobility owned some one-fifth of the ploughland and of the stock of horses and cattle, the more adverse factors of production meant that their estates weighed less heavily in the country's economy than was the case in Hungary. Contemporary observers exaggerated when they estimated that the proportion of allodial and urbarial lands in Transylvania was the inverse of that in Hungary. In fact, the approximately 496,000 hectares (870,000 cadastral acres) of allodial ploughland and meadow might have accounted for around a fifth of the total, or nearly half of the area that would be classified as urbarial. According to a statistical estimate summarizing contemporary reports, some 37 percent of the corn output came from the allodial lands of the untaxed nobility, and the rest from the lands of the taxpaying population.

The majority of estates operated on the basis of levies in kind. Production for the market had to be reconciled with the first priority, which was self-sufficiency. Complaints were rife that rapid {3-43.} price fluctuations and the small and unpredictable demands of the market impeded the systematic cultivation of grain. The seigniorial farms must have played an important role, for it was estimated that the urbarial serfs owed an annual 18 million days of socage, of which 56 percent was manual labour, 29 percent was labour with four draught-oxen, and 15 percent labour with two draught-oxen. If this did not suffice, the serfs would do additional harvesting and threshing in return for food, drink, and a share of the crop.

Although the number of socage days is exaggerated in the source for these estimates, the urbarial census of 1820, the average burden per family was greater in Transylvania than in Hungary. According to contemporary observers, the greater input of labour was necessitated by both geographic factors and outdated techniques. The sources do not allow for a precise calculation of the amount of socage per serf, but only a few, better-off serfs could afford to serve as little as 3–4 days per week. In some places, serfs believed that it was in their interest to declare more than the actual amount of service, and most landowners approved of this practice, while some preferred to rectify the figure. The purpose of the urbarial census was to prepare for a reform of socage, and the serfs may well have calculated that they could strengthen the monarch's resolve by overstating their burden. Landowners, on the other hand, were disposed to maintain the level of socage at the declared level, which is why many serfs refused to authenticate their report by marking their names with a cross. For the landowners, a high socage obligation was a source of power: they wished to have their serfs available for work at all times, and, if they needed less labour, they could display their power by cancelling arrears. In order to reinforce discipline, at year's end, some landowners would impose a caning on serfs who had not worked off their full obligation.

A few of the wealthier aristocrats in Transylvania were reputed to be as 'erudite' as those in Hungary. However, it was also said that apart from the aristocrats, there were few 'independent men of {3-44.} wealth,' and that 'a middle nobility is largely absent in our country.'[34]34. Zs. Kemény, 'Érintések,' Erdélyi Híradó, 4 February 1845, no. 4. Hungary's aristocrats owned enormous latifundia, and some were counted among the wealthiest in Europe, but much of the property of Transylvania's counts and barons consisted of mountains and forests. Apart from engaging in potash production, the great landowners became peripherally involved in the rafting of timber to the Banat and the Great Plain. At first, they merely collected tolls from the peasant-merchants; later, they facilitated this difficult and dangerous exercise by blasting rocks that obstructed navigation. The majority of Transylvania's aristocrats had an in-come scarcely higher than that middle-level landowner in Hungary. Most of the landowners who had 100–150 serfs at their disposal were aristocrats (see table 10).

In Transylvania, the tendency was to assess the landowner's wealth 'less by the size of the estate, which was the case in Hungary, than by the number of people working for him.'[35]35. Ibid. {3-45.} However, as a sign of the changing times, a very different attitude was emerging: 'On balance, the landowner suffers a loss on his "colonical'' [leased-out] lands. He regards his "colonus'' [freeholder serf] as a tedious and burdensome guest who, if he fell destitute, might cause short-term problems for his landlord but would be easier to get rid of.'[36]36. 'Azon felterjesztés, melyet Erdély lelkes honfia gróf Bethlen János Erdély állásáról német nyelven Ferenc Károly főherceghez, Kolowrathoz és Mailáthhoz benyújtván utóbb minister Metternich is látni kívánt,' Bibliotheca Academiei, Cluj-Napoca, Ms. r. 1829. Even the proprietors of large allodial farms became less concerned about the supply of manpower. They tried to have their vineyards cultivated by wage-labourers. Nobles with small and medium landholdings preferred to lease out their allodia, either to curialists or to poorer noblemen together with curialists, or to a prosperous serf who had already commuted his duties. On the other hand, there were more and more landowners who wanted to expand their estates. They often appropriated, at the expense of their serfs, common lands, meadows, and woods by designating these as allodial lands. They were motivated not only by the requisites of modern farming but also by the anticipation that serfs would be emancipated.

The darkest shadow over Transylvanian society was cast by the absence of general urbarial regulation. The feudal pattern of proprietorship had to be clarified before progress could be made toward a more modern system of property. As in Hungary, a legal distinction had to be drawn between urbarial and allodial lands; this required the setting of clear guidelines, and not only for land, but also for the services of serfs. However, the preparations for change threatened to exacerbate tensions between lord and peasant, which could propel Transylvanian society into a sterile conflict that overshadowed their common interest in the liquidation of feudalism. Amidst the small, daily compromises, there was a growing feeling that 'the landowner draws a minimal advantage from his estate' and that 'he exploits his underlings without taking care of them.'[37]37. Letter of Juliánna Sombory and Mihály Ketzeli, Kackó, 6 February 1841. OL, Családi levéltárak, Hatfaludy család, box 37. The landowners exacted dues for all types of peasant activity: grain cultivation as well as spinning, poultry farming, and even scavenging in the woods. Their demand for a share of the produce seemed {3-46.} increasingly anachronistic, yet the practice issued from, and served to preserve an equally archaic form of subsistence farming. This system seemed even more oppressive when, motivated by political or economic considerations, the landowner would demand services and contributions in kind from serfs who had already commuted their services for cash.

On most of the large estates, taverns and levies on milling were the most reliable sources of revenue. Traditionally, the principal activity aimed at the market was animal husbandry. The most widely-used agricultural machine was the straw-cutter. Landowners bred merino sheep to break into the Vienna-oriented wool trade and to supply a finer raw material for the Saxon textile industry. The peasants' methods of horse-breeding were brutal, but some Transylvanian studs began to earn a good reputation.

For the time being, the impoverishment of the landed nobility — a concomitant of the crisis of feudalism — was more threatening than actual. Nobles, apart from those seduced by urban life-styles, tended to have modest material needs. The major expense was clothing, which, for the nobleman who 'made a fetish of his nationality,' was a way of expressing his privileged status.[38]38. Hodor, Doboka vármegye, p. 497. Other-wise, cash expenditures were few; although he lived in a thatch-roofed house with earthen floors, the nobleman might, for instance, indulge in a silver toiletry set. Even the wealthy owners of stately mansions would keep a meticulous inventory, recording items such as a broken cuckoo clock or a cracked pot, and heavy spending on dress drew frequent criticism.

Thus Count János Bethlen the elder, who believed that modern constitutional development depended in part on 'an autonomous, landed aristocracy,' would bemoan the fact that 'Transylvania has but titulary nobles, who, having little property and many debts, can only find meaningful employment if they become bureaucrats.'[39]39. Letter from János Bethlen Sr. to Miklós Wesselényi, Kolozsvár, 2 May 1847, in OL, Filmtár, 8367. But only councillors and higher-ranked government officials could expect to have an annual income of over one thousand silver {3-47.} forints. Viewed from Hungary proper, the salary of lower officials, a few hundred forints, seemed to be a 'mere joke.'

The shortage of money may have been depressing, but it was said that 'money not invested in land went mouldy. And since people held on to their land, there was nothing to spend money on.'[40]40. L. Kőváry, 'Pénzbajaink és ellenszerei,' Korunk, 12 December 1862, no. 171. At the same time, in the difficult circumstances of Hungary proper, the shortage of cash and credit seemed to be inhibit the evolution of the feudal system, and people would affirm with great conviction that the country 'even lagged behind Transylvania.'[41]41. S. Brassai, 'Gróf Széchenyi István és Bírálóji,' Nemzeti Társalkodó, 5 May 1832, I, no. 18.

Aristocrats would loosen their purse strings only on special occasions, mainly during sessions of he diet, when they were expected to throw lavish parties. Otherwise, the liberal opposition members would have ham served at their meetings, and the less wealthy conservatives would gloomily smoke their pipes, to the point the two groups were often referred to as 'ham' and 'pipe.' To celebrate a child's birthday, some aristocratic families would spend as much as a college professor or noble landowner earned in a year; but a 'doll with hair' was such a rarity that it would be passed on to younger sisters.

William Paget, a titled Englishman who married into the Transylvanian aristocracy, remarked with unconcealed irony that the ladies of that class still looked upon jewellery as the best investment; the 'pearls and diamonds' on their gowns reminded him of the beads sported by the tribal élite on tropical islands. At the same time, a countess who lived a mere twenty kilometres from the country's fourth-largest town would cut and sew underwear for her family, and for the domestics as well. History records that only three aristocrats spent themselves into bankruptcy, by making expensive visits to Vienna, building extensions to their castles, or transforming their French gardens into English ones.

Economic crises seemed to threaten the survival of the European lifestyle and 'patriarchal idyll' noted by western visitors, and the feudal system as a whole, only at times when peasants were {3-48.} galvanized by a belief that the 'good emperor' would respond to their wishes, and indeed would already have done so if the 'lords' did not act against his will, as they had done at the time of Joseph II and after the urbarial census of 1820. In these moments, the fine balance between conflicting interests and mutual dependence, varying from village to village, stood in jeopardy, and the pressure for social advancement as well as the tensions arising from ethnic, religious, and social differences might have found an outlet in civil war. There were some false alarms, for the few cases of open resistance remained localized. When rumours spread, in 1831 and again in 1847, of peasant risings, in some places the peasants were reported to have looked on in astonishment as the rural nobility left to take refuge in town.

A Peasant Society Awaiting Change

1. OLD AND NEW IN THE SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC LIFE OF TRANSYLVANIA

Urbanization and the Town–Village Nexus