Vampires (17 page)

 

 

There was no shortage of young women willing to work at the castle: times were hard for the Hungarian peasantry, and Elizabeth promised high wages for her young female staff. It was only when the maidservants disappeared that rumours began to spread, and the eagerness of the local peasant girls to work for Countess Báthory suddenly abated. Not only this, but at around the same time, in 1609, Elizabeth's lover, Darvula died.

Elizabeth immediately found a new lover, the widow of one of her tenant farmers, Erszi Majorova, who helped her to solve the problem of how to find victims. At Erszi's suggestion, the Countess took to inviting the daughters of minor local noblemen to stay at the castle, and meting out the same treatment to them. When the girls did not return home, the alarm was raised. Had the Countess continued to torture and murder peasant girls only, her crimes might never have been discovered; it was only when she lost her head and began to prey on the nobility that her reign of terror was discovered.

 

 

Under pressure from the fathers of these young women, most of whom were not wealthy but were highly born, the Lord Palatine of Hungary, Count Thurzo, was forced to act. He already knew about the atrocities, having received complaints from a Lutheran minister, Istvan Magyari, but had ignored them, because the Countess was his cousin, and he did not want to have a family scandal on his hands.

Before visiting the scene of the crime, Thurzo consulted with King Matthias of Hungary and Báthory's son and sons-in-law. They agreed that whatever the Countess had done, there should be no public trial. Instead, she would be kept under house arrest and her minions publicly tried in her place.

 

 

On 30 December 1610, Thurzo went to Cachtice Castle to pay a call on Countess Báthory. There, he and his men found a girl dead in the grounds, and one dying in the hall. Further investigation of the castle dungeons revealed other prisoners awaiting torture. Some were starving, some were very sick, and others were dying. Báthory was arrested, along with four of her accomplices. The Countess was put under house arrest, while the others were taken away for trial.

King Matthias is said to have ordered Báthory's execution at this point, but Thurzo argued that such an act would be bad publicity for the nobility, and so instead, the Countess was walled up in a set of rooms within the castle. Here, she remained for the rest of her days, her only access to the outside world being a small vent for air, and a hatch where food was passed through to her.

 

 

The defendants at the trial included the ‘witch' Szentes, the wetnurse Ilona Jó, the dwarf Ujvary, and a washerwoman named Katarina Benicka. Their punishments were every bit as gruesome as their crimes. Szentes and Ilona Jó had their fingernails ripped out with red-hot pincers before being thrown into a firepit, while Ujvary was beheaded and his body burned. Later, Majarova was arrested and executed. Only Benicka escaped death, instead being sentenced to life imprisonment, after witnesses testified that she had only acted under pressure from the others.

During the trial, the true extent of the Countess's sadistic crimes emerged as one witness after another testified against her. In one instance, a 12-year-old girl who had tried to escape from the castle was put into a cage studded with spikes. Ujvary then rolled the cage from side to side and the girl's flesh was torn to shreds. In another episode, the Countess forced several naked girls to lie on the floor of her bedroom, and tortured each of them so cruelly that the other servants had to scoop up the blood using buckets. The Countess later recorded that one of her victims had been so small and weak that, much to her disappointment, she had died quickly.

During the trial, it transpired that Báthory was partial to burning and mutilating her victims' hands, faces, and genitals. She also enjoyed starving them, and watching them freeze to death. Apparently, even when she was ill, she continued her vile perversions. Once, when sick in bed, she commanded Szentes to bring her a maidservant. Szentes did as she was told, holding the girl by the Countess' bedside, whereupon the Countess rose up and bit her, like a dog, sinking her teeth first into her cheek, then into her shoulder, then into her breast.

 

 

Estimates regarding the number of Báthory's victims vary greatly. Szentes and Ujvary reported their involvement with 35 young women, other servants with 50 or more. Some servants at Sàrvàr claimed that between 100 and 200 bodies were taken from the castle. It was claimed that the Countess kept a diary in which she listed over 650 victims. This diary is rumoured to have been kept in Hungarian state archives but – if indeed it exists – it has never been published.

Today, there continue to be many unanswered questions concerning the legend of the ‘Blood Countess'. No one knows exactly how many young girls and women met their death at her hands. The rumours about her bathing in the girls' blood have not been confirmed by historical records. In addition, historians remain divided as to the cause of her behaviour. She may have had a genetic inheritance that caused her fits of rage, but this would not account for the extent of her savagery and perversion. Obviously, the mores of the time, in which the nobility treated the peasantry with extreme cruelty, had more than a little influence on her behaviour, as did the fact that her family were extremely rich, powerful and well-connected, so that she was able to pursue her crimes with impunity. But in the end, the reason for her dreadful cruelty, as with so many serial killers, and perversion remains a mystery.

Countess Elizabeth Báthory was found dead in her rooms on 21 August 1614, lying face down on the floor. A number of plates of food had been left untouched, so it was not clear exactly when her death took place. As one might imagine, there were few, if any, who mourned her passing.

Gilles de Rais was a fifteenth-century nobleman whose lust for blood – in particular, the blood of young boys and girls – marked him out as one of the most prolific serial killers in history. The exact number of his victims is not known, because he burned or buried most of the bodies, but it was believed to have been between 80 and 200. Some estimates have put the figure nearer 600. The details of his crimes, which eventually emerged during his trial, shocked the whole of Europe, and still make disturbing reading today. Like his female counterpart Elizabeth Báthory, who lived a century later, he took advantage of his powerful social position to rape, torture, and murder his innocent victims, and for many years continued his depraved life of criminal violence with impunity.

Gilles de Rais was born in 1404, the son of a rich nobleman named Guy de Montmorency-Laval and his wife, Marie de Craon. At the age of nine, his father died. His mother immediately remarried, abandoning Gilles and his brother Rene. Two years later she, too, was dead, and the orphans were sent to live with their grandfather, Jean de Craon. By all accounts, de Craon was an ill-tempered individual who took little interest in his two grandsons other than to try to marry them off, while still children, to various rich heiresses. However, as part of this plan, he also made sure that they received an excellent education. The young Gilles became fluent in Latin, and was said to love music. According to some accounts, he particularly enjoyed reading Suetonius, who described in graphic detail the sexual antics of the debauched Roman emperors. He was also instructed in the chivalric arts of war, and later, went on to distinguish himself greatly in his career as a soldier, fighting beside Joan of Arc.

In his teenage years, Gilles was taken to the court of the French Dauphin, where he impressed the nobility with his intelligence and good looks. De Craon made various unsuccessful attempts to marry him off to some of the richest heiresses in France, including Jeanne de Paynol and Beatrice de Rohan, but to no avail. Eventually, he secured him a betrothal to Catherine Thouars of Brittany, an extremely wealthy heiress of Poitou and La Vendee. The couple were duly married, and Catherine bore him a daughter, Marie, in 1429. By now, Gilles was one of the richest noblemen in France.

Early in his career, Gilles de Rais fought for control of Britanny on the side of the Montfort house, against a rival house led by the Count of Penthievre, Olivier De Blois. Eventually, he managed to overcome his enemies and secure the release of the Duke of Montfort. For this, he was rewarded with land grants, which the Breton government of the day converted into monetary gifts for him. In between his fighting engagements, he spent time at court, learning the refined manners of the day, and enjoying the company of the Dauphin, all of which helped to further his career. From 1427 to 1435, he served as a commander in the French royal army, gaining a reputation as a courageous fighter on the battlefield, in combat at Saint Lo and Le Mans. In one instance, during a battle for the control of the Chateau of Lude, he climbed a tower and killed the captain of the opposing side.

However, it was during these battles that de Rais’ sadistic nature began to show itself. He appeared to positively revel in the carnage, and took a personal delight in killing his enemies, whether running them through with a sword or trampling on them with his horse. At the time, this was not generally frowned upon; indeed, the reverse was true, and instead of being reviled as a brutal sadist, Gilles was held up as an example of a brave, upstanding young knight.

In 1429, Gilles de Rais encountered the infamous Joan of Arc. Joan, a 17-year-old peasant girl, had come before the Dauphin, telling him that she knew it to be her destiny to defeat the English army, who at the time were laying siege to the city of Orleans. The Dauphin thought that she was out of her mind, but decided anyway to send her to Orleans with Gilles, who was fascinated by the peasant girl’s bravery – and her mannish looks. Much to the Dauphin’s amazement, Joan went on to defeat the English, with Gilles at her side.

Exactly how important the young knight’s presence was remains a matter of some historical controversy, but there is no doubt that his early association with the Maid of Orleans brought him tremendous fame and honour. (However, when Joan of Arc was burned at the stake only a few years later, Gilles made sure to play down this association.) He was duly appointed Marshal of France, and rewarded with further riches. After a few more years of fighting, he retired to his estates, indulging his taste for luxury by mounting expensive religious services and acquiring an extensive library.

Retirement from the army, and from the opportunity to kill and maim on the battlefield, seems to have had a dreadful effect on the rich young knight. He began to spend his fortune recklessly, producing a theatrical spectacle called ‘The Mystery of the Siege of Orleans’ in which he played the leading role. The production employed hundreds of actors and costumes, and the audience was treated to sumptuous food and drink. Not surprisingly, he soon began to run out of money, and had to sell much of his property. His brother Rene was so worried about Gilles’ spendthrift ways that he asked the King to help. The King issued an edict forbidding him to sell any more land. His hands tied, Gilles turned his attentions elsewhere.

It was around this time that de Rais began to indulge his secret vices. He procured a young street boy named Poitou, brought him to his chateau and raped him. He was then about to cut his throat, when a companion pointed out to him that the boy might make a good page. Gilles spared him, and Poitou became one of his minions. Others were not so lucky.

In the years that followed, Gilles de Rais went on to torture and murder a succession of children, aged between six and 16, most of them boys. According to witnesses, he preferred to commit his vile crimes with boys, but would use girls if necessary. The craving for blood would come upon him like an epileptic fit, as if he were a vampire, and he would not rest until his thirst had been quenched.

He would send out a servant to lure a boy to his chateau. De Rais would pretend to treat him kindly, petting him and offering him drink. He would then be stripped, hung up by a hook, and tortured. Then one of his minions would cut the boy’s throat, which apparently gave de Rais immense delight. After this, the body would be disembowelled and de Rais would play with it, squatting in the entrails and masturbating. Once he had had his fill, he would faint and be carried to bed, to rest while his servants disposed of the body. They did this by dismembering and burning it. In some cases, two boys would be procured at once, and one forced to watch the torture and murder of the other, before his own time came.

It is hard to believe that such crimes went unpunished for years, but tragically, that is what occurred. Most of de Rais’ victims were young boys of low standing, and since he himself was a nobleman, his actions were not questioned, as was the norm during this period of European history.