The Journey of Bertalan Szemere: A Hungarian Nobleman’s European Tour

In 1835, Hungarian poet and reformist nobleman Bertalan Szemere (1812–1869) embarked on a transformative journey across Europe. Fluent in English, French, German, and Italian, Szemere sought to understand foreign perceptions of his homeland while gathering ideas to modernize Hungary. His travels exposed deep-seated European prejudices about Eastern Europe—myths of untamed wilderness, lawless bandits, and primitive societies that clashed with Hungary’s emerging national identity.

Szemere’s encounters revealed startling ignorance. In Teplice, Bohemia, a local policeman regaled him with fantastical tales of Hungary’s perpetual winter, marauding bears that “skipped like lambs” in snowdrifts, and wolves devouring postal couriers—claims Szemere dismissed with dry wit. Moving westward, stereotypes hardened: Prussians depicted Hungary as a depopulated wasteland; the French reduced it to a den of thieves; the English knew only Tokaji wine. These exchanges, recorded in Szemere’s 1840 travelogue, framed a central tension of 19th-century Hungary—was its rugged natural beauty a source of national pride or a mark of backwardness?

The Clash of Civilizations: Nature vs. Progress in Hungarian Reform Debates

Szemere’s observations fueled Hungary’s intellectual divide. He championed the Hungarian peasantry’s harmony with nature as the bedrock of national character, likening it to English Romanticism—particularly John Constable’s landscapes, which celebrated organic freedom over French neoclassical artifice. To Szemere, Hungary’s wild spaces nurtured independence, a virtue under Habsburg oppression.

His liberal contemporaries disagreed vehemently. Statesman István Gorove (1819–1891) argued in 1846 that Hungary must shed its “forest-dwelling savage” image to join civilized Europe. Practical reformer István Széchenyi smuggled British industrial machinery into Hungary, symbolizing modernization’s urgency. This ideological rift mirrored broader European tensions—could tradition coexist with progress?

Revolution, Exile, and the Price of Idealism

The 1848 revolutions tested Szemere’s beliefs. As Prime Minister of Hungary’s short-lived revolutionary government, he became a fugitive after Habsburg forces crushed the uprising. In a dramatic act of defiance, he buried Hungary’s sacred Crown of St. Stephen near Orșova in 1849 (later betrayed to Austrian authorities). His subsequent exile—through Turkey, Paris, and London—was marked by poverty and paranoia.

Personal tragedies compounded his political failures. Swindled out of his savings by a fellow exile, Szemere failed as a wine merchant and grew isolated. By 1863, mental collapse led to violent outbursts; he died in an asylum in 1869. His tragic end mirrored Hungary’s stalled transformation—a patriot broken by the gap between romantic nationalism and harsh reality.

Europe’s Wild Frontier: The Ecology of Prejudice

Szemere’s encounters reflected Europe’s ecological imagination. Westerners viewed Hungary’s landscape through Gothic lenses—a realm of wolves, bandits, and supernatural danger. Jules Verne’s The Carpathian Castle (1893) and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) cemented Transylvania’s menacing reputation. Reality was more nuanced:

– Wolf Attacks: While rare, incidents occurred. Russia recorded 1,500 wolf-related deaths (1870–1887); Sweden mandated wolf hunts until 1900.
– Bear Hunts: By 1900, bears survived only in remote areas like the Balkans. Russian aristocrats like Józef Potocki trekked north to hunt them for trophies.
– Agricultural Expansion: From 1800–1860, Prussia’s arable land doubled, yet vast wilderness persisted—55% of its territory remained untamed in 1815.

Urbanization bred both fear and fascination. Zoos like London’s (opened 1828) commodified exoticism, while animal welfare movements emerged. The 1835 British Cruelty to Animals Act banned bear-baiting but ignored wildlife protection—a contradiction Szemere might have recognized in Europe’s selective embrace of “civilization.”

Legacy: Nature and National Identity in Modern Europe

Szemere’s struggle resonates today. His defense of Hungary’s natural ethos anticipated modern environmentalism, while his opponents’ push for industrialization foreshadowed globalization’s cultural homogenization. The 19th century’s closing saw Europe’s wild spaces tamed—wolf populations dwindled, forests gave way to farms—but the romantic allure of wilderness endured, repackaged in teddy bears (inspired by Theodore Roosevelt’s 1902 hunting trip) and safari tourism.

Ultimately, Szemere’s story is a cautionary tale about the politics of perception. The “backward” Hungary of Western imagination was a mirror for Europe’s anxieties—about progress, identity, and humanity’s place in nature. As climate change reignites debates about development, his vision of freedom rooted in landscape feels newly urgent. The bears may have left Hungary’s forests, but the questions they provoked remain.