The Eighth Tribe, 1975 (2. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1975-12-01 / 12. szám
December, 1975 THE EIGHTH TRIBE Page 7 OUR HERITAGE IN AMERICA j Column editor: Joseph Széplaki | We will reprint here articles, essays and poems as they appeared in the early American press regarding our heritage in America. We also j welcome articles reflecting the history and j accomplishments of Hungarians on the American | continent. __ I ELIZABETH OF HUNGARY This article was published in 1852, in the Child’s Friend and Youth’s Magazine, one of the earliest periodicals specially printed for children. Vol. 18 (1852) pp. 216-222. We have lately read a most interesting life of this princess, of which we make the following abstract, as being well fitted to form one of a series of lives of holy women. Elizabeth of Hungary lived so many years ago, that the history of her life seems somewhat uncertain; but enough is known of it to show how lovely was her character, and how full of charitable deeds was her life. Elizabeth of Hungary was the daughter of Andrew II. king of Hungary. At an early age, her hand was promised to Lewis, son of Hermann, landgrave of Thuringia and Hesse, and one of the greatest princes of Germany. It was in the year 1211, and she was but four years of age, when she was carried to the court of the landgrave, to be brought up in the land of her future husband. The childhood of Elizabeth was marked by a piety and purity both touching and rare: even then, God seemed the centre of her soul, heart, and desires. Her father allowed her a yearly income, worthy the daughter of a king; and all of it that was at her disposal went to the poor. Elizabeth was about nine years old when the landgrave, who had always loved her very tenderly, died. Her betrothed was now sovereign prince; but he was still too young to rule his dominions, or possess any power. With the landgrave, Elizabeth had lost her only efficient protection. Sophia, his widow, disliked her; and her daughter Agnes, vain of her dazzling beauty, looked down with contempt on the humble Elizabeth. Her love of retirement, her modesty of bearing, her tender familiarity with the poor, and the affection she showed for the young Hungarian attendants sent her by her father, were imputed as so many crimes to the little stranger. But, in the midst of their ungenerous persecution, Elizabeth found a faithful and steadfast friend in her future husband. He loved her for those virtues which drew down on her the envy and hatred of others; nor was she less dear to the generous and chivalrous heart of the youth, for being persecuted by all save him. In 1220 Lewis married Elizabeth in the midst of splendid festivities. Both were remarkable for great personal attractions; yet their outward graces were far surpassed by the inward gifts of their high and noble natures. Lewis had early chosen for his motto, “Piety, chastity, justice;” and he remained true to all it implied. He was faithful to his God, to his love, and to his people. He delighted in pious exercises: in the society of monks and learned men; in the relief of the sick and the poor; to whom he often gave his own garments. With all this he was a valiant knight, excelling in all martial exercises, and so full of daring that without arms, and by the mere might of his strong heart, he once quelled the rage of a strong lion, and made him lie cowed and subdued at his feet. It was seldom that the two could bear to be apart. Elizabeth braved heat, frost, snow, and overflowing rivers, the worst roads and most violent storms, for the pleasure of accompanying her husband. If he could not take her with him, she clothed herself in widow’s weeds, and lived in deep retirement until the time of his return. Then, indeed, she adorned herself carefully; and ran forth to meet him with the joyful eagerness of love. In the midst of a saint-like life, Elizabeth kept up a cheerful spirit: she was gay and merry in the very midst of the penances she inflicted upon herself. She saw no sin in innocent amusements, where she never placed her heart; she shared in the festivities of her court, and danced and played like other ladies. She blamed those whose gloomy and severe faces were a reproach to religion. “They look,” said the cheerful Elizabeth, “as if they wished to frighten God. let them give him what they can gayly, and with a willing heart.” This free and generous spirit by no means led Elizabeth to love or indulge in the vanities of the world. She once went to Eisenach magnificently clothed, covered with jewels and wearing a golden crown; but as she entered the church, and beheld the image of the crucified Saviour crowned with thorns, she was assailed with so devout an emotion, that she fell into a swoon. From that day she resolved to renounce dress, unless when state occasions or the will of her husband should oblige her to wear it, as a token of her rank. Though rigid to herself,
