Hotel Transylvania

By Michael T.G. Yepes

The Hotel Transylvania is my third novel set in the eighteenth century. Together with Child of Europe and An Outsider Among the Thespians, they form a trio. I propose to call it The Enlightenment Trilogy.
I first became interested in the person of Franois II Rkczi, Prince of Transylvania, when I read Gyula Szckfs 1909 monograph, The Exiled Rkczi. (See the appendix.) I was very impressed with Szekfs unmatched scholarship (Sz. was an archivist in Vienna and had unlimited access to the primary sources.) Equally, I was captivated by the novelistic possibilities. The juxtaposition of Rkczi, the Jansenist recluse, and the gambling house at the Hotel fascinated me. However, I sensed that Szekf had an ideological bias with which I disagreed.
This book is neither an historical nor political treatise but a novel, that is, largely fiction. Ive perused a great deal of material in English, Hungarian, and French, etc., while doing research for the novel. And, I have returned to both Hungary and Paris to take a personal look at the scenes. I have had gracious help wherever I went and explained the project.
Where I could identify the exact date of a book or quote, I did so. Otherwise, I gave the authors name and years. I have slightly modified a short French poem by Dorothy L. Sayers, and used Richard Wilburs excellent translations from Racine and Molire.
The other translations, unless otherwise noted, are mine.
I would like to thank my sister, Mrs. Sirtin Gyepes Judit not only for her literary review, but also for many of the sources. My niece, Ms. Barbara Gyepes Giammona did the editing work, and Ms. Evelyne Pnia Fodor thoroughly reviewed and edited all the French aspects.
Finally, my sincere thanks to Ms. Adele Katz, who valiantly struggled through the handwritten manuscript and the many subsequent drafts.
To all of them: MERCI!! thank you!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499055375

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Michael T.G. Yepes.

ISBN:   Softcover   978-1-4990-5536-8

eBook   978-1-4990-5537-5

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without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Prologue

Cast Of Characters

Part I Arrival

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Part II Sojourn

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Part III Departure

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Author’s Postscript

Appendix #1

Appendix #2

Appendix #3

Appendix #4

Appendix #5

Endnotes

I am leaving

on a long journey,

and I will fashion a coat

from the dust of the road;

I shall ornament it

with sadness and sorrow,

and sew buttons onto it

from my tears of

tomorrow …

—Old Hungarian folk song

INTRODUCTION

The joint forces of Britain and Austria achieved complete victory over France by the early 1710s. The Duke of Malborough and Prince Eugene of Savoy conclusively defeated the armies of Louis XIV. French expansionism was checked for a long time.

The peace treaties of Rastatt and Utrecht settled continental affairs for a generation. There were, as always, winners and losers. Among the latter were Hungarian rebels under Prince of Transylvania. Soon after the surrender of the Hungarian Army (Majteny, 1711), a group of refugees came to France, led by the same prince, François II Rákóczi. As a consolation, Louis XIV treated them generously; Rákóczi became part of the king’s inner circle in Versailles and received a handsome pension. The rest of the Hungarians were also given some financial aid and a dwelling place in Paris, which became known as the Hotel de Transylvania. The lives of the expatriate Hungarians centered on this seventeenth-century mansion on the Quai Malaquais.

This novel—for this is a work of fiction—revolves around Prince Rákóczi and the denizens of the Hotel de Transylvania during the years of 1713–1717. At that point, the prince and his immediate entourage left France for the Ottoman Empire.

However, not all the expatriates followed, and quite a few stayed behind in France.

The story in the novel proceeds in chronological fashion. There are two interludes, which contain pertinent information but are not strictly part of the narrative. The same is true for chapter 15: Diversions. Otherwise, I have followed a conventional tripartite format.

— M. T. G. Y. —

PROLOGUE

An excerpt from the eighteenth-century diaries of the Duke de Saint-Simon

Prince Francis Leopold Rákóczi was viewed with suspicion by the court in Vienna from the moment of his birth. His family history and social connections rendered him suspect. In 1701, he was arrested and imprisoned in Wienerneustadt and was charged with attempting to ferment rebellion in Hungary. Rákóczi sold all his personal possessions while in prison and, with five hundred gold ducats, bribed Captain Lehman of the Castelli regiment. Lehman provided the prince with a dragoon uniform. After a wine-soaked dinner with his guards, Rákóczi escaped and found his way to the city of Györ* and then to Poland. There, at the end of 1701, he met Count Bercsenyi, one of the leaders of the Hungarian malcontents. After a massive but unsuccessful manhunt, Captain Lehman and others were executed. Rákóczi was sentenced to death in absentia. His wife was also arrested and imprisoned in a convent. Eventually, she was allowed to move to Danzig. Rákóczi’s two sons remained in Györ, under the protection of the powerful local bishop.

In 1704, Rákóczi was elected ruling Prince of Transylvania (reconfirmed in 1707). Initially, the Hungarians did very well in their campaign against Austria and brought the war up to the immediate proximity of Vienna itself. The unfortunate French defeat at Blenheim (1704) stopped their progress; many of Rákóczi’s troops deserted, and some of his officers surrendered to the Imperials. Rákóczi, having lost hope for an honorable outcome, left for Poland, and then moved to France. The French government provided financial support for the Hungarian exiles and accredited a diplomat to the prince.

Rákóczi got married in 1694 to Charlotte-Amelie, the daughter of Prince of Hesse and the Countess de Linange. Through Madame de Dangeau, Rákóczi was already related to the House of Hesse. Madame de Dangeau was a favorite of Madame de Maintenon and His Majesty (Louis XIV). Monsieur and Madame Dangeau smoothed Rákóczi’s way into Versailles. They did it very well, helped by the fact that Prince Rákóczi was a modest, polished, and easy-going man. Consequently, he was very well received at court; he showed no interest in political intrigues and turned out to be a great success.

Dangeau introduced Rákóczi to the highest and most select circles of court society. The Dangeau had a reputation for lavish entertainments, and the prince was a regular guest at their excellent dinners and soirées. Through Mme de Maintenon, Prince Rákóczi became friendly with Louis XIVth’s two natural sons, the Duc de Maine and the Comte de Toulouse. These royal princes were his intimate advisors at the court. With the Comte de Toulouse, Rákóczi also developed a close, personal friendship. The prince regularly participated in the royal hunts, parties, trips to the castle at Marly, rarely leaving the company of the court. And he had practically unlimited private access to His Majesty. He was well known for his sense of discretion.

Prince Rákóczi was a very tall, well-proportioned, strongly built man, who projected nobility. He had a commanding presence without being haughty. His demeanor was always pleasant, although he was clearly a foreigner from the East. He was a wise, modest, and discerning individual, who never engaged in gossip. He was easy to talk to, informal yet dignified—a rare combination in Versailles.

In society, Rákóczi didn’t talk much, but did participate in conversation and expressed his opinions very well. He never spoke about himself, let alone his accomplishments. His integrity was above reproach. He was straightforward, honest, and highly courageous. He was known to be deeply religious, although he never flaunted it. He was also charitable in helping the poor, without any fanfare.

The prince had a large retinue and tried to regulate the affairs of his household without constraints. One was sometimes left to wonder how this direct, lovable, and easy-going man caused such a storm in Europe.

When he’d arrived in France, he was met by Mr. de Breteuil (through Mr. Dangeau), who immediately took Rákóczi to see the king and Monsieur de Torcy, the foreign minister. He had not called formally on the royal princes, but visited the princes of Burgundy and the Princess de Conti on several occasions.

The king provided him with six hundred thousand livres for a house, and a pension of six thousand livre/month. (The Spanish court provided thirty thousand livres/annum.) He hardly ever spent any time at his house in Paris, although he paid for its upkeep, while the men at the Hotel de Transylvania had to sustain themselves from other sources.

His Majesty had also provided an apartment at Fountainebleu for Rákóczi. The prince always wore the Order of the Golden Fleece, which he had received from the king of Spain.

. .

CAST OF CHARACTERS

• François I Rákóczi, Prince of Transylvania (1676–1735)

• Louis XIV, King of France (1638–1715)

• Phillip II, Duke of Orléans, Regent (1715–1723)

• L’Abbé Dominique Brenner, Rákóczi’s right-hand man and diplomat

• Monsieur Gustave, in charge of the dealers at the Hotel de Transylvania

• Count Deñis de Gyimessy

• Viktor Hazay

• Bertrand Szalkai

• Eugene (Geno) Hazay, young Hungarian officers in Paris

• Commissaire Jean-Pierre Bernard, of the Paris Police

• Various members of the De Grignaud family, domiciled in Paris

• Charlotte-Elisabeth, Liselotte, the regent’s mother

• Le Comte de Provence

Maréchal de Tessé

Le Marquis de Dangeau

Rákóczi’s close friends in Versailles

Princess de Conti

• La Palatine, Princess Elisabeth Sieniawska, Rákóczi’s intimate friend and advisor, Polish aristocrat

• L’abbot Carbonnier

PART I

ARRIVAL

CHAPTER 1

The principal scene of my exploits was to be the Hotel de Transylvania, where there was a faro table in a large room and various other card-and-dice-games in the gallery. This academy was run for the benefit of Prince R., who was living in Clagny at the time, and most of his officers were in our society.

—A. F. Prévost: Manon Lescaut (1731)

Commissaire Jean-Pierre Bernard was walking slowly along the Quai Malaquais. It was a pretty day, although a little foggy haze was still hanging over the Seine. A crisp fall morning, at last the hot days of the Indian summer had passed, and the city was returning to life. A few miles away, in the Latin Quarter, students began to trickle back to the Sorbonne. No doubt he would soon have to deal with problems caused by unruly students, disorderly events, and dissolute hangers on. Commissaire Bernard fully understood that it wasn’t the Greek and Latin authors who were the source of the endemic misbehavior of the Latin quarter’s denizens. Nor could one possibly blame modern writers or philosophers or even the theaters. The Quartier Latin was disorderly and often dangerous, because its inhabitants were young, restless, too rich or too poor, often hungry, frequently drunk, and constantly chasing after women, which, of course, compounded the problems of daily living. Since Héloïse and Professor Abélard, sex was the root cause of much of Quarter’s troubles.

If the students were back, prostitutes and all sorts of other females would promptly follow. These amateurs were often more trouble than the professionals because of their unpredictabilities. Professional prostitutes, pickpockets, pimps, and even the more aggressive types were easier to deal with than fortune-seekers from the country, domestic servants up from the provinces, runaway children—and the thousands of foreigners in the Sorbonne’s student body, whose languages one didn’t understand and whose habits, lifestyles, and finances were difficult to decipher.

And now—this.

This is what brought Commissaire Bernard to the Quai Malaquais. The tall building across the road, away from the river, was built in the previous century. It had all the elegance and pretensions of the grand siécle. It had an unusual portal with pilaster columns, a tall roof lined with mansard windows on the quai’s side, and a row of high chimneys on the roof. It was a corner building. To the left of it was a narrow street leading to the convent of the Petite-Augustins. Commissaire Bernard has been inside its old church just once, in an official capacity; otherwise, the convent was closed to outsiders. Further to the left sat the elegant structures of the academy; to the right, a few scattered dwellings. The St. Germain was a faubourg of Paris, just outside of the city proper. It was changing now. In past centuries, most of the land was owned by the university and the Benedictines, and the property lines between these two powerful organizations were sometimes difficult to adjudicate. The trouble had to do with ancient land grants and the old canals, which have now been covered. St. Germain’s people were changing as well, with some of the upper classes moving out this way from the overcrowded Marais district. But then, Paris was always changing, growing, and spreading ever outward from the river and the two islands. What was once the Prés aux Cleres, the meadow of the scholars, was being rapidly built in.

Anyway, property claims were none of his business. It was the new tenants that Commissaire Bernard had to be concerned about. He has been watching the movers all morning long. Naturally, he couldn’t just stand there, so he walked slowly up and down the quai, stopping here and there to take a pinch of snuff, a poor substitute for his much-missed pipe, which he had given up.

Behind him, on the other side of the Seine, the Louvre and the Tuileries palace occupied the river front. A little further downstream, the massive bulk of the Conciergerie and the twin towers of the Notre Dame were closely visible in the clear sunshine. The river was full of boats, as the city’s supplies were, in a large part, still hauled in by barges.

The movers stopped and cursed. One of the heavy tables slipped off the straps and fell with a large thud. The expletives were equally loud. Merde and some other curses—for they were clearly curses—were heard repeatedly in an unfamiliar tongue. So that was what Hungarian sounded like, he thought curiously. It was almost French: Baiser perhaps. The Hungarian was yelling, "Emeld már meq, a kurva lstenit, basszd meg!"* (Lift it up for god’s sake, fuck it!)

Basz—Baisér, it was really remarkable. The rest he would have to learn later.

It was clearly a heavy gaming table that was dropped; he did not envy them, as they would still have to lug the tables up the stairs. Commissaire Bernard had carefully inspected the building before the new tenants actually started to move in with their specialized furniture. In principle, he could have stopped them on the spot because gambling of this sort was not allowed in the city. But this was not strictly in the city, and these people had very powerful protectors. His chief had briefed him carefully and precisely. It was a delicate affair.

*

His excellency, the Comte d’Argenson, was Paris’s chief of police. He was walking back and forth and occasionally sat down on the windowsill. The window overlooked the river, but its old-fashioned small, glass panels let in little light. Commissaire Bernard stood placidly in the dark side of the large room, listening to the Comte’s exposé.

"Alors, His Majesty—for reasons of his own, I mean for reasons of state—has seen fit to receive the Prince of Transylvania as a … as a … well, not as a head of state, but as a … refugee prince. Monsieur Rákòsi, he said, mispronouncing the name. Monsieur Rákòsi is seeking political asylum in France, that is, the prince and his entourage. He will be treated with all the respect and consideration due to a head of state—but then he isn’t one. You see, Bernard, it is not like with the English pretender, for England is a country. But this … this Grand Duchy of Transylvania is no longer a country, even if it once was something like a state. At present, the emperor is the ruler of Hungary, and Transylvania is part of that state, but Hungary is not actually part of the empire, and Transylvania is somehow not quite a part of Hungary either. Who can understand these foreigners? It is a country that is not a country, a state that is not a state, or belongs to another state. Exasperating! Fortunately, we don’t have to deal with the political or diplomatic aspects of their presence here, although the prince will be accorded diplomatic immunity in his person. Looking after his personal safety will be the concern of the Foreign Ministry and their agents. But the safety and, for that matter, the conduct of his entourage will be our, that is, your, responsibility, Commissaire! For example, should the agents of a foreign power, Austria in this case, I mean the empire attempt any action against these people, it would be your job to know about it and stop it. And to establish liaison—through me, of course—with foreign service officers at Versailles. Because in Paris, we are responsible. It is a complex situation, the kind I despise, but I’ve little to say about these matters. Vous comprenez, Bernard?"

Oui, monsieur, said Bernard politely, je comprend parfaitment, mais …

Mais, quoi?

Their safety, I understand, the commissaire replied patiently. What I do not quite see is what their actual situation is going to be here in Paris. Are we to treat them as diplomats, something akin to embassy people, or what? One cannot accord them diplomatic status and not accord them at the same time. Please, clarify this, monsieur, for I’m a little confused.

So am I, Bernard, so am I, said the chief, who started to pace again, having risen from the window sill. Then all of a sudden, he lost his patience.

You are an experienced officer, Commissaire, use your best judgment, and try not to bother me with the affairs of these people. We already have the English, and now the Hungarians. Who is going to be next?

"Au revoir, Bernard, je m’en fou de

Reviews for Hotel Transylvania

[scolgo · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I wanted to like this book. However, the characterization...The misunderstood Saint-Germaine is too perfectly urbane, witty, and smug.Sebastien the Satanist is simply too hissably evil for belief. The malignant drivel that passed for dialogue which spewed from his mouth made my eyes roll at an alarming rate. Why, oh why would anyone hang around with - or even work for - someone as evil as Sebastien? Oh, right. No one would because he's a condescending prick that just might break your kneecaps for no good reason whatsoever. Bleh.Madeleine, for the era when the story takes place, begins as a relatively strong female character but that falls by the wayside come the denouement.The rest of the characters are boringly rendered caricatures. Gervaise was especially irritating given his nonsensical behavior.Needless to say, I won't be continuing the series.

[junipersun · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Excellent.Noted during my 1980's attempt to read every book in my small town library.

[adonisguilfoyle · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Finding a copy of the first book in Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's Saint-Germain series that wasn't extravagantly priced or only available as an import took me an age, but I finally managed to swap for a paperback edition. The only trouble is that my vampire fetish seems to be on the wane now, so I wasn't particularly enthused, however, I do like Miss Yarbro's writing style - very Victorian, and with nary an anachronism - and the vampire himself, Saint-Germain, is wickedly debonair and heroic. I found him to be very much in imitation of Stoker's Dracula, but in the best possible way - a way with words (and the ladies), very learned and cynical, as befits a man who has lived for thousands of years, and a suitably macabre dress sense (Saint-Germain dresses all in black, bar a ruby pin at his throat). Also, he is ambidextrous and can dash off two letters at the same time, which makes him possibly the first photocopier too.The first novel - and the sequels are actually more a series of stand-alone stories, I think, so there was really no need to hunt down the titles in order - is set in eighteenth century Paris, which also piqued my interest. Saint-Germain buys a hotel in the city and converts the building into a sort of pleasure palace, but his real motive lies in the ancient chapels and tunnels below. He also meets Madeleine, the beautiful and spirited daughter of a man who was once involved with a devil-worshipping cult of ridiculous noblemen, lead by Saint-Sebastien. As with Dracula and Lucy Westenra in Stoker's novel, Saint-Germain is drawn to Madeleine, only their union is slightly more consensual. The two Saints - the similar names can get very confusing - do battle for possession of Madeleine's body and soul, while the heroine is relegated to a Victorian damsel in distress. I don't normally complain about passive women in historical fiction, but Madeleine is fairly hopeless, I must confess. For all the laughable melodrama of the villain and the climax, I did enjoy the formal language and beautiful descriptions of dress and decor. Saint-Germain might prefer basic black, but the other men strut their stuff in jewelled pastel silks like foppish peacocks, and Miss Yarbro does not neglect a single ensemble when painting a picture for the reader. I shall definitely hunt down more of these novels, when I am in a more suitable mood to enjoy the theme.

[fuzzydeadthing · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

This book is a little ridiculous. The bad guys are satanists, which always seems a little ham fisted to me. Though they are convincing sadists, their reasons for being so never come to light in the first half of the book, which is where I got too bored and moved on. The romance is unconvincing and the dialogue between the love interest and hero muddled. Another reader claimed that the last fourth of the book was too sadistic for them. Keeping that in mind, I wont be reading the rest of it anytime soon.

[minpinmom · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is the first of the St. Germain novels. It is not my favorite, but I enjoyed it thoroughly.

[mpramanik_4 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A little too sadistic for me. 4.5 stars for the first 3/4 then 2.5 stars for the remaining 1/4 of the book.

[wingedwolf · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The horrors created by man always eclipse those deriving from the supernatural. A marvelous romance story. A good-guy vampire, a cabal of satanists, what's not to love? Yarbro is in love with history, and pads her novels out with letters and notes focusing on the events of the times her books are set in. She seems to hope you will love history as well, and certainly puts it into a palatable format with this series. Saint-Germain's growth of personality over time, and his ability to adapt to his surroundings are a welcome change from the usual angst-filled vampires of late.

[vampyredhead · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A novel of the vampire Saint Germain series. It is a wonderful vampire saga. She does historical vampire writing like no one else. It makes you want to learn the real history of the real Le Comte De Saint Germain. A very exciting, romantic noval.

[wednesday_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

A vampire soap opera, great attention to the customs and wardrobe at the time, but lacking the "meat" that some other vampire series contain.