History would know her as 'Countess Dracula.' A sexual sadist and infamous mass murderer, she would go on to kill hundreds of serving girls. Her real name was Erzsebet Bathory and she believed bathing in blood was the elixir of youth. From her journal:
"I wanted for nothing. My world was privileged and my parents high born, but my life was no fairy tale. I did not come from kindly or compassionate people. Cruelty and insanity were rampant in my family despite their wealth and position. My uncle and grandfather had both been rulers of Transylvania.
Our family, being so important, looked inside itself for marriage partners and because of this, there was incest; and because of the incest, there was sometimes insanity and deviancy. That insanity thrived in the family I can only attribute to hearsay. A servant told me that my grandfather was a satyr. He enjoyed nothing more than rushing into official meetings naked, ready to mount anyone who was willing. He had made all the female servants pregnant, even his own daughters.
Wise women were often consulted and the unborn child aborted. If a child was born, it was given away. Only my Aunt Klara kept her child but the girl, I think it was, did not live long. I was both amazed and thrilled by these tales a servant told. Elsa knew so much, but then something happened. She was taken away. I also recall hearing her screams as she was beaten for betraying confidences.
ran away but I didn’t believe it. I saw guards carrying a large bundle. They also carried torches and shovels. There was no one to ask what had happened, not that I’d have dared. No one spoke to me. All they did was stare and whisper. I didn’t know what to think. Mystery, lies, and conjecture were all around me and always would be. There were matters of illness, too. I had suffered from fits since childhood. My mother said it was part of the curse. “Such a beauty, and she is cursed.”
Those were her words. But as young as I was, I did not believe this. This was the first time I thought of my mother as being ignorant. That view would never change. As for myself, I have believed things when you read on you will wonder at. Perhaps I thought ill of my mother because I didn’t love her. I recall being ill more often than not. The fits and dark moods were all about me then. There was no relief, or at least, to get any seemed impossible. And because of that, I grew angry. After all, I was tired of hurting myself from the falling sickness. Often I got bruised and hurt. That is when the rages began. It was as though angry voices were urging me on..."
No comments:
Post a Comment