Running round fully two-thirds of Hungary are the Carpathian ranges of mountains. Hungary has been called the land of “three mountains and four rivers,” and the emblem of these form the chief feature in the coat-of-arms of the country. The mountains are supposed to be the Tátra, Fátra, and Mátra, and the rivers the Danube, Theiss or Tisza, Drave, and Save. But this, in regard to the mountains at all events, is misleading, for the country is surrounded by mountains on three sides, a great chain of 900 miles long reaching round north, east, and south to the Iron Gates of the Danube, and to mention only three peaks out of so many but little inferior does not give a true notion of the country.

The north-western Carpathians are divided into several ranges; one separates Hungary from Moravia, Silesia, and Galicia. There are passes of great grandeur leading through the Carpathians at many points, and the way in which the heights rise sheer on the Hungarian side greatly adds to the impressiveness. A good deal of the mountains is thinly populated, and the villagers are often very primitive in their habits.

The Carpathians are of great bulk and breadth, and are covered with trees. The highest peaks are above the perpetual snow-line, and rise grandly from the evergreen forests. In the higher parts pine and fir predominate, but in the lower ranges oak, beech, and ash are common. Vast armies of pigs, led by little swineherds, seek their chief food under the trees, where they find abundance of beech-mast and acorns. The sight of a swineherd leading forth his flock in the morning from a village is a quaint one. He stands and calls or whistles, and from almost every cottage one or more pigs joyfully run grunting to join him; many of them are horrible creatures to our notions, with matted long hair and covered with fleas; nevertheless he lets them rub up against him, he fondles them, and allows them to rest their heads on his lap!

The chief features of the health resorts in the Carpathians are the wonderful mineral waters which gush out abundantly almost everywhere, and the glorious air and grand scenery. The springs and baths alone are enough to make the fortune of any place, but when added to these are endless diversity of walks through forest scenery, wonderful panoramas of wind and rock-scarred precipices, stretching on one behind the other and backed up perhaps by a mantle of glittering snow, it is remarkable the world at large has not yet “discovered” this playground fully.

There are also little lakes lying in hollows. These are the work of glaciers, and are of a deep blue or green colour. On a still day the scenery is reflected as in a mirror. They are called by the poetic name of “sea-eyes.” The terrific falls of water streak the precipitous heights with white ribbons.

For those who can afford it there is chamois-hunting, though it gets yearly more difficult as the animals are driven further and further by the intrusion of men; and even bison-hunting, though this has to be arranged with a private owner who only grants the privilege to his guests. The resorts are greatly sought by invalids in the winter, and also by a totally different class of pleasure-seekers, those who delight in ice-sports and pastimes. The two seasons are from the middle of June to the end of September, and from the middle of December to the end of February.

All through the Tátra runs a fine road, made by the Hungarian Carpathian club to link up the principal places; this is 21 miles in length and reaches from Csorba to Barlangliget.

The railway line to the Tátra passes by the river Vág for the most part, and as every height is crowned more or less by a ruined castle, it is inevitable that the route has been compared with the Rhine valley. But there is no steamer on the Vág on account of its rapids, and those who wish to come down it will have to do so on a native-made raft, which is piloted with great skill by the peasants through seemingly impassable turmoils of water. The rail goes past Poprad, and it is near here that the first real view of the Carpathians is had, the central range, stretching grim and grey about thirty miles due east and west, and rising apparently straight from the plain.

From Poprad can be visited the extraordinary Ice Cave at Dobsina, one of the wonders of the world, where skating is possible in the summer even when the air outside is at a high temperature. The perpetual chill in the cavern is accounted for by the fact that it lies at a lower level than the outer ground, and that the cold air, having once entered, hangs heavily, so when the warmer air of summer seeks to displace it, it cannot find entrance. The cave is to-day planed and smoothed and rendered easy of access in the way universally considered necessary with any work of Nature’s, until it resembles a piece of man’s architecture; nevertheless the beauty is still great, even though the gleam from the crystals is that reflected by electricity, which gives an artificial aspect to everything. The ice-columns and pendants are constantly changing in bulk and form, and the floor of the lower cave, a mass of ice, the cubic content of which can hardly be estimated, is so smooth that skating is possible at any time of the year.

From Poprad again one can go to Csorba, where a small cog-wheel railway runs to a lake thus described by one who is an artist in words: “Magnificently situated among mountains and forest. Lines and patches of snow flecked the heights, and were mirrored in the still waters. Against the sunset the mountains became a warm plum colour, and, with the dark forests, plane behind plane of purply green, were all perfectly reflected in the glowing water, save where the evening breeze cut level silver lines.” Strange tales are told of some of these lakes, the depths of which are unmeasured, and the notion that they are connected with the sea by some subterranean caverns is still believed by the peasants. The hotel here belongs to the Sleeping-Car Company.

The massive granite range of the High Tátra is about 18 miles long by 9 or 10 broad, its highest summits are Francis Joseph, Lomnitz, and Ice-Valley Peaks, rising to about 9000 feet.

The best known of all the Tátra watering-places is Tátra Füred, called the mother of them all. This holds its season in July and August, and consists of three settlements, New Smecks, Old Smecks, and Lower Smecks, with numerous hotels, concert halls, restaurants, and every sort of convenience for the visitor. Only 4½ miles away is Tátra Lomnitz, where there is a large hotel and golf-links, but no village. This is the terminus of a loop-line from Poprad. At another of the watering-places in the neighbourhood, Barlangliget, there are wonderful caves with stalactite formations. This stands higher than Tátra Lomnitz on the road leading to Poland.

One of the most wonderful and best developed of all these places is Pöstyén situated at the foot of the Lower Carpathians near the Vág. The hot springs of Pöstyén have been known for generations, and are even referred to in the twelfth century. As is often the case they have occasionally shown some vagaries, the mud-source shifting about erratically from time to time on either shore of the river, and after a tremendous inundation in 1730 they disappeared, but not for long, for a few years after the bathing was going on in full swing, and since then the springs have been stationary. They are sulphurous and exceptionally hot, the natural temperature being 140° F. Their upspringing causes an overflow which runs down into the river and shows itself in mighty rolling clouds of steam rising from the surface. The constant flow causes a deposit of silky sulphurous mud, and it is this that makes the fame of Pöstyén. It is a wonderful cure for rheumatism in all its many manifestations, which is borne witness to by a museum filled with the crutches discarded by patients who have recovered the full use of their limbs. The springs are also rich in radium, and radiograph photos have been taken in a dark room by the agency of the mud alone! Besides rheumatism, gout, neuralgia, fractures, sprains, and bone diseases are treated here, and the thermal water is taken internally as well as in the form of baths. The air is dry and the situation sheltered from the north. Many of the hotels are open all the year round, and though the summer season is the principal one the treatment can be carried on at any time. One of the largest and newest of the many hotels is the “Thermia,” which is near the huge Irma bath, itself a revelation of what can be done in this direction. The bath is built right over the springs, and its vast floor, 126 feet in diameter, is of mud. There are corridors and lifts and dressing-rooms enough for an army, and private baths can be had here too. It is one of the latest and most complete buildings of its kind in the world. There is another bath-house too bearing the name of the monarch. The Kur Salon, adjoining the Kur Hotel, contains reading-rooms, music and dining-rooms, besides a beautiful ballroom. There are recreation grounds, a theatre, a fine park with magnificent trees and promenades by the river. Here special home-industry articles of needle-work peculiar to the district are on sale. Boating can be indulged in safely, and there are endless beautiful walks into the hills around. The proprietor of Pöstyén is Count Emmerich Erdody, and he lets the Spa on lease.

At a little known place on the Mátra mountains called Párad, the waters are a combination of iron and alkaline, and also there is a spring of arsenic water which achieves astonishing results in certain cases. So numerous are the springs in these parts that in spite of the up-to-date development of such places as Pöstyén and Tátra Füred, there are many places where the peasants still indulge in primitive baths as the pigs used the pools before Bath was built. Owing to their open-air life and the constant dampness of their clothes the poor people suffer greatly from rheumatism, and while bathing they preserve their bodies from the extreme heat of the pits where the water lies, by lining the sides with branches of trees as was done in the old days at Pöstyén itself.

Far the most intimate picture of homely life among the various peoples of the Carpathians which has yet been written in English, is Mrs. Phillimore’s In the Carpathians, giving an account of a leisurely tour made by herself and her husband with a cart all around the great encircling heights. Poles, Slovaks, Ruthenians, Czechs, Saxons, all passed before them in review, and they even came across the dreaded Wallachs, held up by the Slavs as bogey men. The Wallach is akin to the Roumanian, and proved himself on acquaintance much less formidable than painted.

They started from Zakopane in High Tátra Mountain, and here they picked up the Polish boy, Milak, who went the greater part of the way with them to drive the cart. They slept out for the most part, had a total absence of adventures of any kind, and the chief difficulty was the lack of food. They were on the border line between Hungary and Galicia, crossing into one or the other as the road wended. Bread, bacon, and sausages, honey and fruit, and sometimes cheese and milk, were the staple diet, and oft-times they were thankful to get anything. Many of the villages were extremely poor. They passed through a watering-place at Bardfield, where baths, cafés, restaurants, and large hotels make it exceedingly popular with the German element who take up all the rooms weeks ahead for the season. But for the most part they shunned the frequented resorts and passed only through little-known districts where the people were very poor.

The writer sums up the races she met in this sentence:

It is a record of beech woods, and many streams, of quiet bad roads, and wide maize fields, of poor and dusty villages with kindly villagers, who, though curious, were usually innately well-mannered.

After completing the semicircle they returned again to the plain, and here is a striking little description:

A book to read, though it does not encourage one to “go and do likewise.”

The north-eastern Carpathians include the Wooded Carpathians and a range of low hills where the much admired wine of Tokay is produced. The town of Tokay nestles at the base of these hills, called Hegyalia, and is itself disillusioning, its population consisting almost entirely of wine-growers and wine-buyers or middlemen, so that a constant chaffering spirit spoils the romance. The essence of Tokay is made of the juice which runs out of the ripe grapes pressed down by their own weight. This is produced by putting the grapes in a cask with holes bored in the bottom through which the juice runs. This essence is so scarce that it is hardly ever offered for sale to outsiders, who, indeed, get very little chance of pure Tokay at any time. The other two kinds are made by mixing juice, pressed artificially out of fresh grapes, with some of the pulp, and these two are known as “ausbruch” and “maslas.” Tokay varies from pale yellow to rich gold in colour, but red wines are produced in Transylvania and elsewhere.

Many are the drinking songs of Hungary, but very difficult to translate in the spirit of the original. Here is a characteristic one:

WINE SONG

Hungary ranks high among wine-producing countries, at least a million acres being under cultivation of the vine, while the Tokay wine is limited to that grown within an area of about twenty square miles.

In contrast to the stern heights of the mountains the Great Plain of Hungary, the Alföld, which has been called the “heart and brain and soul” of Hungary, is a startling contrast. It is 35,000 square miles in area, and the soil is rich, so that it lies like an oasis amid the encircling heights. It is the greatest plain in Europe and is at an average height of 350 feet above the sea. Quantities of corn are grown here, but in some places the ground is still too swampy for such cultivation, and the people live by gathering the reeds and rushes with which to make mats, and osiers for baskets.

But this was written many years ago, and much of the area has been drained since then.

Any one familiar with the prairie can well picture the Alföld with its undying fascination, and will be able to see it in the mind’s eye as it lies with miles and miles of yet unripened corn like a vast ocean brushed into small waves by the wind. There is hardly a tree, and the sky-line, unbroken in its tremendous semicircle, sweeps on ever infinitely. It is difficult to give any idea of the Alföld, unless the characteristics of the people who dwell in it are taken into account as throwing light upon it. This great plain, once an inland sea, contained at one time a gigantic marsh of 100,000 acres, and the rivers Theiss (or Tisza) and Danube overflowed their banks occasionally, making it impossible for any one to live near them in safety. Now a great part of the marsh has been drained, the rivers are confined to their channels, and their backwaters and islets form a breeding-place for thousands of geese, which at times may be seen in such numbers that it seems as though the land was covered with large snowflakes.

Here is a translation of an old national song:

THE ALFÖLDER

The Hungarians were ever a wild and warlike people, and as the country became more settled they found their chief delight in tending horses, being born horsemen. The name csikos, which really means horseman, now includes shepherd or herdsman. Horse-breeding goes on largely to this day. The csikos live a primitive wild life still, and round up their horses with the skill of an American cowboy. The horses in the herd are half-wild, and are rounded up by the use of the karikas, a short-handled long-lashed whip, with which the herdsman, going at full speed, can single out any animal and touch it up in any part of its anatomy he desires with the unerring aim of a brilliant marksman with a bullet. His own special mount is generally as dear to him as the Arab’s horse is to its master. It shares his shelter and will come at his call, and eat out of his hand. The name Hussars applied to troops of soldiers comes from Hungary, and the Hungarian Huszar is still the best rider on the continent, a veritable part of his beast.

The Hungarian horses are as a rule hardy spirited little creatures, descendants of the race which came with their masters from the east. The government has improved horse-breeding, introducing English and Arab blood, and there are two large government studs for the purpose.

The Hungarian loves the boundless spaces of the plain; it has been said that he shares in its qualities, “the same absolute straightness, the same taciturnity characterise both.” Here in the sweltering summer heat he works all day uncomplainingly, to gather in the fruits of cultivation; here, when the white mantle of winter lies over the silent icy spaces he wanders in his sheepskin. The horseherd or csikos, once the aristocrat of the plain, now is hardly distinguishable from the shepherd or cow-herd whose avocations he shares. The far-famed white horned cattle of Hungary are tended and reared on the Alföld. It is a sight to see them yoked as a four-in-hand with their spreading horns and splendid hides gleaming in the sun. Beneath an acacia, the Hungarian tree, or a willow, both of which are plentifully found, the shepherd pitches his rude wattled tent. Possibly he has with him one of the native dogs, great snow-white shaggy fellows, who are, alas, growing fewer every year. Storms and clouds, heat and rain, affect not the man who meets them all calmly. The great black cloud of hail which bursts in masses of ice is met with stoical patience. At evening, maybe, he sees far off across the plain what appears like a sheet of blue water, and yet there is none; it is a mirage raised by the refractive power of the air. The wild duck and water-hens and even the herons have now migrated elsewhere, but there is still fishing to be had, and the herdsman is often a keen angler.

There are many flourishing towns to be found in the Alföld, of which Debreczen, Szeged, Kecskemét, and Temesvar are perhaps the best known. In these towns there are electric lighting, asphalt paths, a good water supply, and other comforts of civilisation.

A recent writer has said:

The largest lake in Hungary is Lake Balaton, which may well be described as an inland sea, for it is 47 miles in length. It is difficult to describe what Lake Balaton means to a country like Hungary deprived of a seashore. Though the lake has no tides the levels are so constantly changing that monotony is impossible; this is no dead sheet of water. Its very size makes room for the breakers the storm-wind sweeps before it, and storms are by no means lacking. For many years there has been a railway line along the southern shore, but only recently another, completed in 1909, carries people also along the northern shore, which is the more popular, and the health resorts and bathing places which have sprung up are innumerable. All Hungarians who can afford it carry their families to this charming resort, there to bathe and dabble and fish, or to voyage by steamer or yacht. The lake is divided into two by a long peninsula which stretches out from the north side almost to the opposite shore. On the north side, there are hills rising in vine-clad slopes, with white houses nestling in them, and at the foot many a town, of which Balaton-Füred is the principal one. The lake is rather shallow, though varying enormously with the feeding it receives from springs and streams, but it is deepest on the north side, where bathing is easier than on the sandy shore of the too shallow south. Long wooden piers with huts at the end of them are constantly available, and every one bathes. Many a pretty picture can be seen of a peasant woman, her face alight with fun, her wet hair thrown back, dipping a pink innocent babe in the fresh water.

Balaton-Füred is not only a seaside place but has wonderful alkali springs and baths which are excellent as cures. There are many excursions to be made. Steamers run the whole length of the lake. The walks and drives are innumerable. For other interests there are yacht races and fishing. In winter the lake freezes easily because of its general shallowness, and then the whole of the 600 square kilometres are available for skating and winter sport. When the ice breaks up, which it does with cracks like pistol-shots, and piles itself in masses, glittering with every colour of the rainbow like gigantic prisms, happy are they who are there to see it!

At the western end there are curious basaltic effects, great cones rising from the vine-covered slopes like sugar-loaves, or hills which appear to be built up of columns of basalt, as in the far-famed Fingall’s Cave of Scotland. There are ruined castles artistically arranged on hills, piled up by the gradual forces of nature, not by art; and there is the magnificent seat of Count Tassilo Festetics at Keszthely near the western end. Balaton well deserves the place it holds in popular estimation in Hungary.

If time is limited, and it is desired to see something of the two great attractions of Hungary, the rich lowland and the mighty hills, in a short time, no one could do better than take a ticket from Budapest to Orsova. Railway travelling in Hungary is cheap compared with other countries; it is run according to zone system, and the farther you go the less you pay proportionately. The management is extremely enterprising, and deserves much credit for it in a country where the national spirit is inclined to dwell on the past rather than to work for the future.

The very large towns passed through will astonish those who think that the peasants still live in little rough villages. At a place like Kecskemét, for instance, there is a magnificent town hall, and as the town is truly Hungarian the quaint costumes of the people seen in the imposing streets have all the piquancy of contrast with their modern surroundings. Kecskemét lives to a large extent by agriculture. The suburbs are one mass of fruit orchards, and at the time of the “peach market” the smell of the exquisite fruit is radiated far and wide. Cucumbers—which are eaten by the children like bananas—grapes, and apricots, are grown in quantities, and there are a number of vineyards. Willows and acacias are frequently seen, both being planted along the roads in avenues.

A very large town on the banks of the Tisza is Szeged, with over 100,000 inhabitants. Szeged has suffered much in times past from the Tisza’s unruly manners, and in 1879 was subject to a very terrible inundation, when hundreds of people were drowned. The river is now properly embanked. The wide squares, the well laid out gardens, the artistic architecture, will be a revelation to many people. The town has a busy industrial life with steam-mills, timber-works, flax industries, also paprika-mills. This is a special industry. The hot red pepper called paprika is used in quantities by every Hungarian, and dished up on all occasions. Formerly it used to be ground by hand, but now steam-driven mills have taken up the task. There are distilleries too, and Szeged soap is renowned, while its silk slippers are famous. The river is responsible for shipbuilding and fishing industries. Another large town is Temesvar, also industrial, with clean straight streets, electric tramways, and an extraordinary amount of open space. Its chief interest is that here stood the original castle of the great patriot, John Hunyadi, now marked by a later castle in a square of that name. Tobacco and mosaic, bricks and textile goods are turned out from Temesvar, and not far off is a fine watering-place called Buzias. Northward lies another large town called Arpad, the centre of a rich vine-growing district.

It is only after leaving Lugos we begin to see the hills, which we are soon to enter.

To the east lies a country of mining and factories, smelting furnaces, and other disagreeable evidences of industrial prosperity. The smelting is carried on by charcoal made from the splendid fir and beech forests. Iron and coal are found in quantities, and it will be news to most people that Hungarian steel goes to England as well as to other European countries.

Road, rail, and river run together through a narrow mountain defile, and finally the railway goes through a tunnel which is at the summit level of the line. Then the line is wonderfully engineered in and out along the hillsides, across valleys, and over bridges. In one of these valleys is the oldest health resort in the country, the famous Baths of Hercules, not far from the Iron Gates of the Danube. Herculesfürdo, to give it its native name, was established by the Romans two thousand years ago. The springs are sulphur and salt, and the cures of rheumatism, skin disease, and other ailments still wrought by them are almost miraculous. The river Cserna runs through the valley. The place is under State management, and there are now many good hotels, and the walks through the steeply-rising wooded cliffs are well planned and laid out. It is visited in the season by hundreds of people, a large number being foreigners. From the top of the hills, which rise to over 3000 feet, there are charming views. In these hills there are caves, one of which is full of hot vapours and used by many people as a vapour bath.

Beyond this we reach Orsova, which is on the Danube and is mentioned elsewhere.

This little glimpse of the Alföld with its wheatfields and vineyards, its flourishing towns and large rivers, will give an excellent impression in miniature of the whole of its extent, while the grim scenery of the Southern Carpathians forms a striking contrast.

So much for the northern and eastern parts of the Dual Monarchy, but the south-western part has a character quite its own, and in the Empire of Austria the Alps play a larger part than the Carpathians. The Rhaetian or Tyrolese Alps form the highest range, many topping 12,000 feet, the highest point, the Orteler Spitze, attaining 12,814. These Alps are subdivided into three chains, of which the above-mentioned peak is to be found in the most southerly; the middle chain extends to the borders of Salzburg and Carinthia, and the northern one lies above it again. The Noric Alps are those in Salzburg, Styria, and Carinthia, and they are also broken into chains. The Carnic or Carinthian Alps are another range in the north of Carniola, and the Julian Alps lie in a south-easterly direction, running through Carniola to Dalmatia.

All the beautiful mountainous scenery in this part of the Empire, including the Tyrol, is known to those who love natural scenery, and the Tyrol itself, with the Dolomites, rivals Switzerland in the number of holiday-makers attracted by it. The country about Salzburg is less known outside the inhabitants of Austria themselves, but the enterprise of the Austrian State railways is opening it up. All this is dealt with in another part of the book.