Miklós Bánffy - They Were Found Wanting

The official delegates, together with Mihaly Koos, the lawyer who had been elected chairman of the Szekler representatives, took a slow train from Budapest to Kolozsvar. They could have travelled by the express but Samuel Barra, shrewd politician that he was, thought that it would be better to take a train that stopped at every station along the way so that delegates from country districts could join it anywhere on the route; and then they would all arrive at the same time. It had not escaped him, either, that slow trains always stood for some little time at each stop thereby giving time for the politicians to greet welcoming committees and make themselves better known.

By courtesy of the Hungarian State Railways a restaurant car had been attached to the train and so they all travelled in high good spirits. At one end of the car Barra held court, revelling in one more opportunity to argue with, and upbraid, his own supporters — and the more he insulted them the more they loved it; while at the other end the journalist-turned-politician Marot Kutenvary kept the Transylvanians in a roar with the latest Jewish anecdotes from the capital. Kutenvary had just managed to scrape into Parliament for some district in Gyergyo by making the most of his resemblance to Hungary’s great patriotic poet, Sandor Petofi, who had died on a Transylvanian battlefield, and so felt obliged to attend the Szekler congress. These two were the opposing poles of the restaurant car. Loud political discussions at one end, loud peals of laughter at the other.

Balint joined the train at Aranyos-Gyeres. Seeing that although most of the compartments had been taken very few passengers were actually in their seats, he walked down the corridor hoping to find some interesting company. In one compartment he saw Mihaly Koos and his two secretaries with Istvan Bethlen, but as he presumed they were discussing the organization of the congress and had covered the seats of their compartment with papers, it did not seem the moment to join them.

Instead he too went to the restaurant car.

When Balint first came in the two groups, the serious and the jovial, were still fairly evenly balanced, with as many men surrounding Kutenvary as were grouped round the great Barra. This was all changed after the train had stopped at Kocsard, for all the newcomers at once joined the Barra group. Among them were Zsigmond Boros, old Bartokfay, Bela Varju, Jeno Laczok and the banking baron, Soma Weissfeld. Laczok was attending as a great landowner in Szekler country and Weissfeld because, as a director of the bank at Vasarhely and chairman of the company which exploited the Laczok forestry holdings, he was one of the principal employers of the Szekler people.

The newcomers were all in gala dress: Bela Varju in a brand new black traditional outfit and Bartokfay in a short mulberry-coloured spencer-like jacket covered in braid and embroidery, and tight trousers. More magnificent than either, however, was Soma Weissfeld who had put on the traditional Hungarian costume that he had had made a few years before when there had been rumours of imperial manoeuvres on the banks of the Maros. Though the King never came the costume remained and so, ever since, the banker had seized any opportunity to wear it. Made by Grünbaum and Weiner in Budapest, the outfit had cost a great deal of money and was in the most exaggerated old Hungarian style. The dolman was of snow-white silk, the trousers deep carmine and the boots of yellow morocco leather. The bright blue cape with its wide ‘Zrinyi’ collar was trimmed with rabbit fur dyed to look like marten; and the whole was richly decorated with clasps and buckles all large as pigeon eggs and made of gilded copper. To top it all he wore a gold-plated sword. III-natured gossip said that the banker looked like a cross between a chimpanzee and a cockatoo, but the man himself was quite satisfied with the vision he saw in the looking-glass. That the pince-nez clipped to his nose were not entirely in the manly Hungarian tradition was unfortunate; but the banking baron could hardly tuck them away in a pocket for without them he could see nothing.

The politicians now so outnumbered the others that the men round Kutenvary fell silent and left the floor to Samuel Barra.

Soon the train drew to a stop at the Tovis junction, and here it had to wait for a while until the connecting train from Deva should arrive. The station was decorated with flags and on the platform stood the station-master and all his men drawn up as if on parade to greet the monarch himself. Behind them were a crowd of onlookers, the railway employees’ choir, the local gypsy band and the town judge with a group of white-clad schoolgirls who recited a poem and then presented a beribboned bouquet, not, however, to the representative of the Minister but to the famous Samuel Barra whose face was the only one they recognized.

As the weather was clear and sunny and it seemed the halt would continue for some little time, everyone got out of the train. Barra, Bartokfay, Varju and Kutenvary all took the opportunity of making speeches explaining what they were going to do for the poor Szeklers; and when they finished the mob cheered wildly even though Tovis was not in Szekler country and most people present were either ordinary town-folk or railway employees. At each pause the gypsy band played a flourish just as they did at official toasts.

Balint walked down the platform and by the last carriage he found a small group that had descended from a third-class compartment and were stretching their legs on the platform. There were six or seven Romanian popas dressed in shabby grey priests’ robes and among them were some laymen dressed equally shabbily in grey. Slowly they walked up and down hardly exchanging a word and when one of them turned round Balint recognized the old lawyer and politician, Aurel Timisan, who was one of the Romanian minority members of Parliament.

When Timisan came up to greet Balint his companions turned away and left him.

‘What a celebration they are having today!’ said the old lawyer in a faintly mocking tone. ‘It’s a joy to see! And may I ask where you gentlemen are all going?’

‘To Homorod. The Szekler congress opens there tomorrow.’

‘Very right and proper! Most wise to think about the people’s problems. And how beautifully you Hungarians organize these things. All these excellent speeches, all this cheering. Nowhere in the world do they do it so well.’

At that moment the train from the south rumbled into the station and many more festively dressed men jumped out. At once the cheering started again, with more singing, more speeches on the platform, and the choir started on the Kossuth song. Hats were waved, handkerchiefs and banners fluttered.

‘And who is that magnificent gentleman in Hungarian costume?’ asked the old deputy pointing at Soma Weissfeld. Under his thick moustaches there was the hint of a mocking smile.

‘He is the director of the bank at Vasarhely,’ said Balint drily, sensing the old man’s mockery. Not wishing to seem to share it, he went on, ‘Where are you going? I see you are not alone.’

‘To Brasso. We have an unimportant little meeting there … just church affairs.’

‘Then perhaps we could have a talk on the way? Which compartment are you in?’

‘Naturally I should be most honoured by your Lordship’s company, but you see I am travelling third class with my friends and I could not very well leave them. And where I am neither the place nor the company is worthy of your Lordship. They are very simple people, very simple indeed.’

With his last words Timisan waved his hand in farewell and chuckled as if amused by some inner meaning the other could not share.