Magyar Hírek, 1987 (40. évfolyam, 1-23. szám)
1987-05-30 / 11. szám
Count Móric Sándor — the "demon rider" Just like that of other nations, Hungarian history is not short of tales of noble people of fearful reputation or others remembered for their whimsical or simply eccentric deeds. Count Móric Sándor known by his contemporaries as the “demon rider” was such a figure in the early 19th century, a perplexing object of loud and also of many gibes. He was born on May 23 1805 at Bajna, the family’s estate in County Esztergom. His father not only refused to have his son educated, he did not allow him to learn to ride either. But young Móricz did not give in at that point. One day he ordered his tutor, a man named Kosztarovics, to have one of the English thoroughbreds saddled for him. “Riding is an art that one must first learn, otherwise one should not mount a horse. The animal senses an inexperienced rider, and will throw you” pleaded the tutor. “He, who must learn first would never master riding” replied the young Count, then mounted the horse and effortlessly jumped a bar held by two servants. Then he took aim at a high hedge, that surrounded the park of the manor, flew over it, and disappeared from the sight of the servants, who were frightened to death by the daring of their young master. He was exceedingly fit. Apart from about of scarlet fever at the age of four he suffered no other illness. If he had to lie a bed later, it was only for a broken or dislocated arm or leg suffered when a horse fell with him, or a coach turned up with him in it. His right leg broke three times, both of his arms several times, and so did his collar-bones and ribs. The French surgeon Valpeau and his London colleague, Ashley Cooper already wanted to amputate one of his legs for they feared necrosis, when an old peasant in the Bliimbach district healed it without any surgery. Undoubtedly, the leg was shorter afterwards, but he could ride just as well, as before. And that was what mattered for his principal and unquencheable passion was riding and coach driving. When his interest in horses and racing took him to England, it took little more than a fortnight for him to be known by the sporting world there. His prowess, which an English horse-coper questioned, earned him general admiration at a hunt at Melton Mowbray. One of the best-known horse-copers in England, a man called Anderson, showed him a steed that nobody had mounted before, staying on. “If you ride this horse to Melton Mowbray without being unsaddled on the way I shall pay you a sporting prize of 100 sterling.” Our count took the dealer at his word, rode the fiery horse and then said: “This is an excellent mount! Thank you for making him available to me. You can bring your money tomorrow.” The crest-fallen dealer said: “That is not a man, that is the devil.” By the time he reached London on the way home, he already saw an etching in the show-window of a Regent Street art dealer depicting a red-coated rider with the inscription: “Melton Mowbray, Count Sándor’s exploits”. Metternich s son-in-law His social success helped Count Sándor make a splendid match. At carnival time in 1835 he led Princess Leontine Metternich, the daughter of the Chancellor, to the altar. Metternich was afraid that his highly cultured daughter of refined manners and the slightly rough-hewn Count Sándor who won popularity with his daring feats did not suit eachother. Leontine, however, remained adamant, and the happy married life of these two people of different character was eventually blessed with two children: a son, Leo, who did not reach majority, and a daughter, Paulina. The memoirs of his daughter tell that Count Móric followed similarly extreme principles in education as his father did. His biographers agree, however, that he maintained patriarchal good relations with his serfs and servants, cared for the needy, and had schools and churches built on his estates. People living where the old Metternich-Sándor estatues used to be still tell funny stories about the crazy count their ancestors were so fond of, the famous-infamous deeds of Grófsándor as I heard him called by my grandfather. The peasant imagination surrounded the wealthy aristocrat, the nabob of Bajna, who used to perform his pranks at the expense of his peers, with a kind of romantic aura. Once, according to my grandfathers an Englishman, who visited the count at the Bajna staghunt told him he travelled there from England to get proof of the real abilities of the hero of the previous years hunt of Melton Mowbray. “I came straight from England” he said “and I hope you will be good enough to display your riding and driving prowess to me.” Sándor was feeling a bit embarrassed, but as a host in spite of himself he agreed to comply with the wishes of the visitor. The Englishman watched the performance, and eventually remarked : “Splendid . . . but I believe I have seen things like these before.” Then the count had the five-in-hand prepared and drove with the Englishman towards Visegrád. Once on the high embankment of the Danube he threw the reins to the gallopping horses, folded his arms on his chest and enquired with an angelic smile on his face: “Has your Lordship seen anything like this too?” The next moment the eoaeb turned over, the inquisitive Englishman broke a few ribs, and Count Sándor a collar-bone. Tatar's big jump His feats on horseback were without number. In his famous Sándor album Prestel, the noted animal painter, immortalised him jumping over a cart at the Buda market, or over the stone wall of the park of the Bajna manor and the glass-house built beside it, which the “Demon Rider” had forgotten, for it was not visible from the side he jumped from. Lucily, he managed to correct the jump halfway over, and avoided trouble. He was not that lucky, however, on another occasion, when he jumped a wide ditch at Bajna. He finished up with broken bones and bruises, but his good horse, Tatár came through unscathed. Nemesis caught up with the splendid animal at Buda, when the Count walked his horse to the terrace of the palace and jumped to Szent György Square, below to the accompanisment of the cries of passers-by. Tatár broke a leg, and the Count some of his ribs. The famous horseman cooperated on a book Hunting and Sport in Hungary with Count Manó Andrássy and some of his other aristocratic friends, but he could not attend publication in 1857, for he fell off the box in the course of one of his customary tempestuous drives, knocked his head against the wall of a house, and suffered severe concussion. We really do not precisely know the nature of his injury, but the notes of his daughter leave no doubt that his mind was unhinged, and he spent his remaining years as a quiet, rather good-humoured man. He died on the 23rd of February 1878 in a home in Döbling near Vienna. LÁSZLÓ PUSZTASZERI 31
