Dracula, Prince of Many Faces

by Radu R Florescu

  Hunyadi did not need the advice of Oswald Wenzel. He was sufficiently conversant with the sultan's state of mind and ambitions to realize that the conquest of Constantinople represented but a first step, which would lead to attempts at further annexations. (In this respect he was kept remarkably well informed by his personal envoy and confidant, János Vitéz, a remarkably acute statesman and diplomat, who was to become the future bishop of Oradea and primate of Hungary.) He knew he must defend his realm at certain strategic points: in the first instance, the fortress of Belgrade, which protected the southern flank of Hungary, must be consolidated. Fully aware also that the Turks were virtually in control of Wallachia (their merchants and spies were swarming in the capital and other major cities), Hunyadi further decided to punish his former protégé Vladislav II by consolidating his control over the duchies of Fgra and Amia (Wallachian enclaves within Transylvania). He next appealed to the German townships to provide him and Vlad Dracula with the weapons and finances to equip and pay for the new army of mercenaries that was needed to reinforce the local garrisons at Sibiu and Braov. Finally, it was important to raise this new army from among Romanians, Germans, Slavs, and members of the lower nobility of Transylvania, traditional components of his earlier crusading armies. He knew he could not count on the upper nobility of Hungary, who preferred the security and comfort of their estates; nor could he persuade his inexperienced liege King Ladislas Posthumus to take formal command — the boy king preferred the distractions of the courts at Buda or Vienna over campaigning. The Transylvanian leader confirmed the appointment of his eldest son, Ladislas, as military head of the southwestern flank to lead an offensive in Croatia, while Dracula, as commander-in-chief in Transylvania, was given the role of forestalling an attack by Vladislav II — now the sultan's ally.

  János Vitéz, Hunyadi's confidant, guessed correctly that Mehmed's next blow would not be delivered against Transylvania, where his flank was sufficiently protected by the loyalty of Vladislav II and his Moldavian counterpart Petru III Aaron, equally won over to the sultan's cause. The main Turkish offensive was to be against the powerful strategic fortress of Belgrade, which commanded an impressive location on a hill at the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers. Together with its string of tripled walls, outer fortifications, towers, and battlements, it is still, notwithstanding the destruction wrought by time and innumerable sieges, one of the most impressive sights in the present day capital of the Socialist Republic of Yugoslavia. The garrison of Belgrade, under the command of Mihály Szilágy, Hunyadi's brother-in-law, was small, comprising no more than 5,000 or 6,000 men, but they could rely on the help of the local Serbian population, which had chosen to live within the city walls after the despot Brankovi had handed Belgrade over to the Hungarians in 1420.

  There was no question that from Hunyadi's point of view the fall of Belgrade would represent a catastrophe of incalculable proportions. It would open up the Danube to a Turkish fleet, which hence would be free to attack Buda or even Vienna. Thus it would threaten the security of Hungary and the Holy Roman Empire. For Hunyadi personally, the loss of Belgrade would spell the end of all his ambitions and the even greater hopes he nurtured for his sons László and Matthias.

  The intention of Sultan Mehmed to attack Hungary by way of Belgrade first became apparent during the winter of 1455-1456, when he assembled a large army of perhaps 90,000 men in the vicinity of Adrianople, while a fleet conservatively estimated at some 60 ships was being fitted on the Danube delta. The worst suspicions were confirmed when German and other gunsmiths took up residence in Kruševac in central Serbia, with instructions to build mortars and cannon.

  There was, however, a response from a totally unexpected quarter. It came in the person of a seventy-year-old Minorite Franciscan monk who has since been canonized by the Roman Catholic church: Saint John of Capistrano. He was an extraordinary survivor of an earlier period of Medieval crusading (the likes of which was not seen again in Europe until the siege of Vienna in 1683). John of Capistrano, whose imposing bust still adorns the main facade of Saint Stephen's Dom in Vienna, certainly looked the part of a Peter the Hermit, the crusading leader of the eleventh century. Small of stature, with an emaciated frame, hollow cheeks, deep-set eyes, and parched skin, he had the countenance and stature of a mystic as he gathered the faithful around him in the city of Györ in Hungary and preached the crusade to the common man in Latin. No one understood his exact words, but the tone of the message was unmistakable as he thundered: “God wills it that we chase the Turks out of Europe and for whosoever follows me, I will obtain plenary indulgence for him and his family.” It was more a matter of heart than rational thinking that induced a ragtag army of some 8,000 inexperienced and poorly equipped peasants, lower burghers, students, and clergymen to follow John on his southeastward march. They had gathered all the crude weapons they could assemble: slings, cudgels, scythes, pitchforks, stakes, and other farm implements. It was, however, their determination and fanaticism that proved more than a match for the holy war proclaimed by the sultan and the tried military talent of the Turks and janissaries. The generals and the diplomats who attended John's demagogic harangue at Györ — Hunyadi, his son László, János Vitéz, Vlad Dracula, even Pope Calixtus III's legate, Juan Cardinal de Carvajal — were not impressed by what they regarded as a “mob.” In the end, though, these leaders found they had underestimated the power of faith to move men.

  At a meeting summoned by Hunyadi at Hunedoara on January 13, 1456, basic strategies for the impending campaign were laid out and assignments to the military leaders given with little reference to John of Capistrano's crusaders, who worked essentially as an independent force. Dracula, with an army composed mostly of Romanian mercenaries, was instructed by Hunyadi to stay at Sibiu and watch the Transylvanian passes. In addition, his young protégé was given to understand that he could proceed with the offensive against Vladislav II at whatever time he would deem appropriate, thus to relieve pressure at Belgrade by compelling the Turks to keep a body of troops on the Danube. In essence, Dracula's mission was part of the overall strategy in protecting the eastern flank of the Belgrade defensive operation. In turn, Dracula's cousin Stephen of Moldavia, also in Hunyadi's entourage, was waiting for an opportunity to overthrow the other Turkish vassal, Petru III Aaron. By June 1456, in the words of the historian János Thuróczi “as the grain began to ripen,” a vast army, accompanied by 300 siege guns and 27 enormous cannons, followed by the fleet on the Danube, moved northward, capturing on the way a number of Serbian cities that had maintained a precarious autonomy under Turkish rule. Hunyadi sent the customary diplomatic appeals to the west by means of his intermediary János Vitéz; as usual, there was no response.

  The greatest achievement of John Hunyadi and John of Capistrano, unlikely allies that they were, was breaking through the ring of Turkish land forces, as well as the chains of Turkish flotillas that blocked access to the city, to effect a juncture with the city's defenders. On July 21, having finally penetrated the outer defenses and moats, Mehmed gave orders for a final assault. In desperation, the sultan tried to arouse enthusiasm in his troops by joining the melee in person, only to be wounded in the thigh for his pains. Though the Turkish army had penetrated the city, it was unable to capture the fortress on the hill, defended by 16,000 men evenly divided between John of Capistrano's crusaders and Hunyadi's professionals. For Mehmed, who lost as many as 24,000 of his best soldiers and whose sailors colored the blue Danube red, it was a disastrous defeat. The relief of Belgrade was described as a “miracle” by Bernhard von Kraiburg, chancellor of the archbishop of Salzburg, in which “8,000 simple people” had defeated a vastly overwhelming Turkish force. In retreating toward Sofia, the ailing sultan was so angry that he wounded a number of his generals with his own sword and later had them executed. When the successful defense of Belgrade was reported to Rome, Eugenius IV called it “the happiest event of my life”; believing that a miracle had truly occurred, the pope made preparations fo
r the beatification of John of Capistrano.

  Typically, one reason why the upper nobility of Hungary had refused to leave their Transylvanian estates to join the crusade was rumors to the effect that during the summer, the plague had flared up once again in the Danubian plain, infected rats accompanying the Turkish forces from Anatolia, where the disease was endemic. As news of an actual outbreak spread, the more affluent people, who included members of the courts at Tîrgovite and Suceava in Moldavia, scurried for shelter in the mountainous regions, which were considered relatively safe havens. During the summer of 1456 the plague struck Hungary, Croatia, and Slovenia, sparing neither young nor old, poor nor rich. Among its early victims of note was Elizabeth Cilli, the beautiful young lady destined for Hunyadi's youngest son, Matthias; she died at Buda. On August 11, amid the festive atmosphere that followed the Christian relief of Belgrade, Hunyadi, well into his sixties, his health undermined by fatigue and exhaustion, also succumbed to the disease at Zenum in Serbia, only a few miles from the site of his triumph. The even more aged John of Capistrano, whose crucial role is commemorated on a small stone plaque located at the precise point where the crusaders entered the fortress, was also felled by the dread disease a few months later, on October 23, at Ujlak, in Hungary. The death of Hunyadi prompted his son László to take official command of Belgrade during the winter of 1456-1457.

  As Hunyadi and John of Capistrano had been marching with their motley force toward Belgrade, Dracula had lost little time in planning his own diversionary offensive, aimed at paralyzing any action that Vladislav II might have planned to help Mehmed's offensive. Vlad Dracula's pledge of allegiance to the crown of Hungary and to the Christian cause, a pledge also implicit in his Dragon oath, had signified a permanent rupture with his former Turkish protectors and now legalized this action. He set out in mid-June through the Carpathian pass at Bran with a small motley force composed of a few exiled boyars, Hungarians, and Romanian mercenaries, and the moral and material support of the German cities of Transylvania. By mid-July, at the very time when the Turks and Hunyadi's forces were locked in combat at Belgrade, Dracula engaged Vladislav II in combat somewhere near Tîrgovite. He had the satisfaction of killing his mortal enemy and his father's assassin in hand-to-hand combat. The far more cruel circumstances of avenging Mircea's death — buried alive at Tîrgovite — lay ahead. Vladislav II's tomb can still be seen at the Monastery of Dealul near Tîrgovite, with a brief inscription that was placed on it a century later through the intervention of the heirs to the Dnesti line. The date of his death is still marked: August 22, 1456. At a century's distance, the Dnesti heirs were guilty of a pardonable dating error of one month. We know from other sources that Vladislav's death had actually occurred in July. By August 22 Dracula was already prince of Wallachia.

  CHAPTER 4

  A Machiavellian Ruler at Home

  THE future court historian of King Matthias, Antonio Bonfini, was among the first to make mention of an unusual comet that appeared during the month of June 1456, noticed earlier by Chinese astronomers: “as long as half the sky with two tails, one pointing west and the other east, colored gold and looking like an undulating flame in the distant horizon.” It became the object of study by one of the leading astronomers of the period, the Florentine Toscanelli, during the seven weeks and four days of sighting in central and eastern Europe, and was also brought to the attention of Sultan Mehmed shortly after the disaster at Belgrade. An exact description of the cyclical character of the trajectory and precise calculation of orbit of what turned out to be the most famous comet in history had to await the astronomer Edmund Halley (1636-1742).

  In Dracula's time some astrologers, on the basis of previous sightings, viewed the comet simply as an omen of bad luck: the prelude to earthquakes, plagues, wars, and other natural catastrophes. In southeastern Europe the appearance was thus at first linked with the military offensive of the new sultan Mehmed II, and later with the deaths of John Hunyadi and John of Capistrano at Belgrade. Antonio Bonfini had foretold the death of the great Transylvanian military leader thirty days before the “appearance of a star with a tail during the month of June” — a prophecy that turned out to be accurate.

  On the other hand, other seers looked upon comets as good auguries. After all, such a star had shone in the sky at the time when Attila's Huns had been defeated on the plains of Catalonia. In June 1066 another sighting had closely coincided with the victory of William the Conqueror over the Saxons. For the pro-Norman, it was surely a good augury then. As for the appearance of a comet in 1456, it could also be alleged that, in spite of the deaths of the two great crusaders Hunyadi and Capistrano, since the city of Belgrade had actually been saved from Turkish conquest, a comet might again be a good omen.

  Dracula and his astrologers must have considered its appearance in a positive vein, since during the period of its sighting he achieved his dream of securing his ancestral throne. This positive view is further suggested by the fact that the only Dracula coin discovered so far is one that depicts on one side the profile of the Wallachian eagle with its wings extended and a cross in its beak, and on the other, a crescent mounted on a star trailing six undulating rays in its wake. The coin, bearing the hallmark of a Braov goldsmith, was of very high quality and obviously meant to replace those of Dracula's father, which bore the Dragon symbol. This particular coin has additional interest in being the only instance of Halley's comet being used in the heraldry of coins.

  Barely aged twenty-five, Dracula began his most important reign in August 1456, elected by a small rump boyar council, in accordance with the fundamental laws of the land. He was subsequently anointed by the metropolitan of the land in the cathedral of Tîrgovite (Biserica Domneasc), with all the usual regalia attending such an event. Like his predecessors, he adopted the pompous title of “Prince Vlad, son of Vlad the Great, sovereign and ruler of Ungro-Wallachia and of the duchies of Amia and Fgra,” which he had recently acquired from the Hungarian king Ladislas V in return for his allegiance. As soon as he was established on the throne, Dracula began correspondence in September 1456 with the mayors of Braov and Sibiu, as well as Hunyadi's son László, the new governor of the fortress of Belgrade and commander-in-chief of the Transylvanian territory. To secure his northern frontier with Moldavia, Dracula attempted to stir a revolt among dissident boyars of that country against the rule of Petru Aaron, his enemy, and thus to pave the way for the restoration of his ally and cousin Stephen (subsequently Stephen the Great), who was to be established on the throne of Suceava the following year (1457), with the help of a contingent of 6,000 Wallachians. By taking such actions, all of which emphasized his loyalty to the Christian cause, barely a month after his election, Dracula aroused the suspicion of the Turks. Hence a delegation from Sultan Mehmed was officially received at his palace in Tîrgovite. Adroitly playing on old loyalties, the Turkish emissaries demanded a yearly tribute (2,000 gold ducats), and the right of free passage for the Turkish army through Wallachia (for possible raids into Transylvania) as the price of Turkish recognition. Dracula assented to these terms, though with his father's experience of 1442 in mind, he refused the customary humiliation of traveling to Constantinople to pay his official homage in person.

  Dracula's unusual appearance had attracted general attention ever since he was introduced at the Hungarian court at Buda in 1452. We know what he looked like, because of a copy of his portrait, the first life-size portrait of a Romanian prince, which presently hangs in the so-called monster portrait gallery of the Ambras Museum near Innsbruck. A miniature version of this truly extraordinary painting, painted by an artist of the Nuremberg school, is presently located at the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna.

  A careful analysis of the Ambras portrait reveals a strong, cruel, and somehow tortured man. One is immediately struck by his large, deep-set, dark green, and penetrating eyes. They appear doubly framed by deep shadows below and long eyelashes and arched brows above. The artist has captured a gaze that is distant an
d without real focus, though the expression as a whole is disdainful and imperious. Dracula's face is emaciated, with high cheekbones; his complexion is sallow and sickly. His nose is long and a little bent. The tightly sealed lower lip, which alone is visible, is red and disproportionately thick, suggesting sensuality. The Romanian historian Ion Bogdan, who in 1896 wrote the first monograph on Dracula, thought that the peculiar formation of the lower lip revealed an uncontrollable nervous twitch that may well have affected Dracula's whole face, in the manner of Peter the Great's, throwing it temporarily out of line. By the standards of the day, Dracula might be considered a handsome man, with his jutting chin bespeaking strength of character. The mustache entirely covering his upper lip (he was otherwise cleanshaven), though, is peculiarly elongated, straight, and meticulously curled at the ends, unlike the drooping mustaches popular among most princes of the period. Given the graying auburn reflection on his mustache, one might guess that he was fair-haired. His locks are, at any rate, long and curled, and fall far below his shoulders. From a pronounced bulge below his chest, one might surmise that Dracula was far from gaunt and probably not very tall.

  Dracula's costume is that of the Hungarian nobleman of the period. It is in no way Oriental or Turkish, emphasizing his predilections for the west. Covering his mantle, and topped by gold brocade, is a wide collar of sable, an expensive fur rarely seen on the shoulders of Romanian princes. According to the Vienna miniature, the mantle was closed with three large golden buttons interlaced with red filaments. His close-fitting headgear was made of red silk with nine rows of pearls at the brim, very different from the tall ugly turbans worn by Turks and Greeks. A large clasp or brooch in the form of a star, at the forehead, in the center of which was a topaz, seemed to hold together a cluster of large pearls. The topaz held a cluster of feathers, presumably ostrich, tipped with additional precious jewels.