László
Mravik
Hungary's Pillaged Art Heritage
Part One: Theft and Destruction 1944-45
Hungarian art treasures": In an older Hungary this was the expression
used for all the objects of cultural, artistic and historical value located
in churches, castles, châteaux, town houses, castle gardens, public
buildings and public spaces within the country. It made no difference whether
these objects belonged to private individuals, public bodies, or to the
state itself. In describing them, no attention was paid to whether they
were the works of Hungarians or artists of other nations, or whether they
had been created in Hungary or in another part of the world. Thus, a Nuremberg
silver goblet in an aristocrat's collection, an ornamental halberd in a
Tran sylvanian castle, or a Raphael Ma donna in the National Picture Gallery,
were all regarded as "Hungarian art treasures". They counted
as items deserving respect by the nation. Later, however, they became a
part of the "national stock of art treasures".
This last definition acquired an undoubtedly narrower meaning than the
earlier term, which had taken everyone into account who lived in Hungary
and which had been clear to one and all. Hungarian art treasures became
national only when their numbers diminished, when seven tenths of Hungary
was divided among the successor states of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Stressing the national element in culture suddenly became important when
Hun gary, starting off as a multi-cultural entity with a dynamically developing
economy found itself a poor, problem-ridden small country. In other words,
after the First World War the background to Hun garian art treasures was
not as before. The private wealth which backed them diminished greatly,
as did the liberal strand in politics (and the esteem it enjoyed). This,
generally speaking, had been enthusiastically supporting art and culture,
safeguarding artefacts in newly established museums, and making them accessible
to the general public. In the changing climate, however Hungary's property-owners,
leading figures in the world of business and intellectuals turned inwards;
they either retired into literary culture (which required less,financial
outlay), or, (in most cases) to nothing at all.
We can say, therefore, that the national stock of art treasures had become
ownerless in the spiritual sense, and, unlike earlier times, shaping their
fate had become unimportant as an aspect of morale, embodied in the state.
As a result of this, an ever-growing proportion of what used to be requisites
for high culture in everyday life became a means for the temporary easing
of liquidity problems in the more-or-less still glittering private sphere.
From the start, art treasures preserved and augmented over many centuries,
left the palaces of the aristocracy and flooded onto the reviving Hungarian
art market, pushing down prices. Later on more and more of these works
found their way abroad--westwards and ever more westwards, naturally.
Even so, a certain augmentation did occur in the late 1920s, partly for
historical, partly for economic reasons. Some of the old aristocratic collections
stranded outside the country after the drawing of the Trianon frontiers,
did make their way to Hungarian territory, in whole or in part. One such
was the treasury and weapons collection, from Transylvania, of the Teleki
de Szék family. These were brought to Budapest with the permission
of the King of Romania. It should be noted that it was not patriotic pride
that prompted this ancient Transylvanian family to bring these dazzling
treasures to the Hungarian capital. Initially they had wanted to sell them
in Paris, but found the money offered less than they expected. The family
was then obliged to make another attempt, on the Hun garian art market,
where, in Budapest, it received the price they hoped for. For similar reasons,
the best items from the Erdõdy family's famous residences (Gal
góc, Szomolány, etc.) in what had become Czechoslovak territory
came up to auction in Budapest at this time, thanks to the not insignificant
efforts of Hungarian experts. (Even this material did not reach Hungary
directly but via Austria.) The ordeal of these two collections illustrates
what become a general process in this period, namely that many Hungarian
art treasures went to the West and that very few found a home in Budapest.
At the Buda pest auctions of the Teleki and Erdõdy collections,
Hungarian museums and art collectors did make purchases; the museums could
only do so thanks to the generosity and prompt response of the Hungarian
financial élite. Such public acquisitions, how ever, were few in
number, and the bulk of the items on sale went to Hungarian and foreign
art dealers and ended up abroad.
What acted against an entropy common in the care of Hungary's art works
was linked to a well-educated and decidely rich stratum of Hungarian society.
The Hun garian haute Juiverie, was consistently zealous in the support
of Hun garian culture, be it literary or material. At a time when the country's
aristocracy and ethnic Hungarian upper bourgeoisie were happily exporting
works of art, when Hungary's publishing houses could scarcely find a single
really important aristocratic patron, it was the Jewish haute bourgeoisie
that brought here numerous art treasures from all over the world. It was
they who, through their patronage of literature, were enabling some poets
and novelists to pursue their careers. They also supported music. During
these years it was they, whose "Hungarianness" was later cynically
called into question, who shored up the continuity of Hungarian high culture.
In the meantime, however, following the Great Depres sion of 1929-33, many
of them found themselves in financial difficulties, and were forced to
sell fabulous art treasures in order to retain their huge industrial holdings.
It was in this way that, for example, Baron Adolf Kohner's enormous modern
collection was broken up, a collection which included paintings by Corot,
Cézanne, Gauguin, Van Gogh, Matisse and Modigliani, as well as many
works by other great masters. And although it was auctioned off in the
Hungarian capital, not one work by the above painters found a Hungarian
buyer. All went to the West.
Only two large and world-famous collections survived the Great Depression
with out loss: those of Baron Ferenc Hatvany and of Baron Mór Lipót
Herzog. The former was one of the principal figures in the Hungarian sugar
industry; the latter was almost the only operator of Hungary's state tobacco
monopoly, and a main shareholder in all the major Buda pest banks. They
added to these collections significant new acquisitions, even in the very
depths of the slump. But taken as a whole, the local and occasional concentration
of energies was diminutive alongside the general and all-embracing tendency
to entropy. Still, at the end of the 1930s, despite all the losses, by
European standards Hun gary counted itself as a rich country in terms of
its art treasures, although nothing like as rich as it had been from the
turn of the century to the outbreak of the First World War.
As the Second World War came to an end, at a time when human life was worth
nothing, who cared about the fate of Hungarian art treasures, and who worked
to save them? There were, in fact, such people. These works of art represented
property which could be preserved for the postwar period and which would
be worth a great deal. Cultural and artistic treasures whose owners were
in a position to cross Hungary's western frontier. Without exception, these
were people without a drop of Jewish blood and in a high societal position.
Dozens could be listed, but here only two will be mentioned. The ancient
castle of Sárvár contained an enormous number of art treasures.
Its owner, a prince of the Bavarian royal house, saved these objects by
sending them to Germany in several trainloads. No-one has since looked
into what he took to the West legally and what he took illegally, i.e.
without an export permit. It was not looked into, since one of the successes
of the Kádár régime was its foreign policy; which
meant that it was so servile and mealy-mouthed towards the West that it
was not given to raising issues of this kind. Now that Hungary has reach
ed the shores of parliamentary democracy, for a change we have become even
more servile, in order to court Western investors. The other example is
that of the Count Berchtold family, who managed to send their magnificent
collection of paintings to the West in its entirety, similarly using scarce
railway rolling-stock.
After the German occupation of Hun gary in the spring of 1944, Hungarian
Jewry found themselves doubly captive. In their own interests, and to assuage
the expected German "thirst for culture", the Hungarian authorities
sequestrated art works kept in Jewish apartments, town-houses and villas.
At this time, however, the best art works belonging to Jews were already
in the safes and strongrooms of the larger Budapest banks, where their
prescient owners had placed them in 1942 and 1943. These, which were worth
billions, amounted to an appreciable part of the Hungarian cultural heritage,
both quanti tatively and qualitatively. However incredible it may sound,
the safes containing these art works survived to the end of the war unopened
and unharmed. Easily identifiable art works of such high value did not
arouse the interest of the German troops occupying Hungary. Realising that
the war was already lost, and wisely thinking ahead regarding bank secrecy,
they did not exceed certain limits. But they did pocket the jewellery,
gold and precious stones of Jews outside the capital, who were almost totally
liquidated. The identification of such items was impossible after the war;
the property stolen from these Jews provided for more than one high-ranking
Nazi a carefree existence and a prosperous old age in South America. Likewise,
Ferenc Szálasi, the Hungarian Arrow-Cross leader, who came to power
in October 1944, did not touch the objects in the strongrooms. He was not
so much motivated by sober considerations as by lack of time. He was content
with the fact that selected material from the Hungarian museums and a significant
proportion of the art works sequestered from Jews were being evacuated
to Ger many. With only modest losses, these were returned to Hungary in
1946 and 1947, as part of the restitution procedure. Nearly all were given
back to their rightful owners, or to their authorized legal representatives.
Afterwards most of these objects were smuggled out of Hun gary; their owners
also left, thus avoiding possible punishment. To what extent this is or
is not understandable or forgivable is not a subject for consideration
here. What remains a fact is that an enormous cultural loss occurred, or,
to be more exact, that another enormous cultural loss occurred.
The great bulk of the treasures--of enormous value--kept in the banks did
not remain in Hungary either. These were taken care of by units of the
Soviet Red Army trained in the looting of art works. Wherever possible,
these units had bank premises containing art works opened by bank staff;
otherwise they used explosives, and simply removed the material they found.
The circumstances of removal and temporary storage in Hungary were barbaric.
When, after August 1945, the great part of the material had been taken
from the central collecting points to the Soviet Union, the Hungarian governmental
authorities were able to make on-site inspections. They established that
an enormous amount of porcelain, mostly 18th-century Meissen and Vienna
ware, remained, smashed into pieces, and that fragments of old Hungarian
printed matter, documents, stamp collections and picture frames were to
be found among the ashes of bonfires. Certain records refer to the fact
that some several hundred tons of old silver thus removed was melted down
while still in Hungary, and that the bars--art works turned into ingots--were
taken to Moscow. Soviet units also destroyed or burnt in situ surviving
valuables from public warehouses in the capital and from country houses,
churches, libraries and archives in the provinces, taking the best items,
when possible, to the Budapest collecting points and from there eastwards.
They showed no consideration for premises in Hungary enjoying diplomatic
protection, if these were "suspicious" for some reason. A large
number of Hungarian art collections had been taken by their owners to the
Swedish legation, whose actions in saving Jews had been particularly heroic.
In the days following the liberation of Bu da pest, Soviet troops turned
up there and opened the safes with oxyacetyline equipment, and took away
their contents. All this took place after the cessation of hostilities,
at great expense to Hungary, which by then was an ally, and not an enemy.
This grievance is unredressed even today.
It is a wonder that after such happenings any art work remained in private
hands. Today there are far fewer, considering that the (mostly illegal)
export of art works con tinued without a break after 1945. It continues
today, and as far as one can tell, will do so in the future as well. There
are many
obvious and well-known examples of this.
Since 1929 Hungary's stock of art treasures has been protected by law.
This means that, for practical purposes, a more valuable piece can only
leave the country with an export permit. Alas, these laws have never been
anything but wishful thinking cast in the appropriate legal form, and the
responsible officials of all régimes were incapable of ensuring
that they be observed. They never contained serious legal sanctions. At
the time of writing, similarly unrealistic legislation is being drafted,
which only awaits approval by a parliament clearly unaware of what is at
stake.
***
Western Transdanubia has always been an important region from the point
of view of Hungarian culture and politics. It is the westernmost part of
the country, the bulk of which, even in the painful centuries of conquest
and pillage, remained under the rule of the kings of Hungary and were governed
by the Hungarian constitution. As a result of this, most of the richest,
oldest and most splendid aristocratic homes were located in it as well
as a considerable number of towns, with an established and sizable number
of burghers. In the 16th and 17th centuries, Transdanubia was a border
area, lying adjacent to those parts of Hungary which had come under Turkish
rule. Every town and every major estate centre was fortified, and some
churches and monasteries were built in a way that would offer effective
defence against Turkish marauders. The homes of the aristocracy had been
fortified as a matter of course--previously they had served as a defence
against pressure from beyond the western border--or were turned into fortified
homes in the 16th century.
An enormous number of art treasures and valuable furnishings were to be
found in the region, which in the last stage of the Second World War and
in the initial period following the expulsion of the Germans was exposed
to grave threat. If we ignore Budapest, at least 35-40 per cent of Hungary's
post-Trianon cultural heritage was located in these three western counties
given additional importance by the fact that the greater part of the various
delayed or held-up consignments of museum and library material carried
off from Buda pest--"evacuated", to use the word em ploy ed by
Szálasi's Hun garian fascist (Ar row Cross) government in 1944--could
be saved while in transit to the West, or if not, then data concerning
its despatch could be established. It was also hoped that something could
be found out about the (largely Jewish-owned) art treasures stolen or looted
in Budapest by the Ger mans. The most arresting issue at that stage, however,
were excesses by the Soviet military, which caused the destruction of artistic
and historical treasures that had escaped the tender mercies of Germans
and the Arrow Cross, perhaps being left behind for lack of time or transport.
Local inhabitants also joined in the pillaging of property, sometimes in
league with Soviet troops.
For all these reasons Count Géza Teleki, the first post-war Minister
of Reli gious and Educational Affairs, deemed it necessary to delegate
an art historian, Pál C. Voit, to look into matters. Voit's report
on his August 1945 tour of inspection has survived in the archives. It
would make for fascinating reading if its content were not so depressing.
No access to the document--or to similar documents--was possible before
1990. Only one or two trusted archivists knew of it, and its publication
was out of the question as was any serious research on wartime or post-liberation
atro cities by the Soviet occupational forces. It is not possible even
today to comment definitively concerning the validity and accuracy of the
document's each and every statement. The total picture is further complicated
by the fact that surviving pieces from the country and town houses of the
aristocracy and larger manor-houses ended up in various museums, libraries,
archives or public offices, or in certain institutions of the financial
administration, possibly a good distance from their original locations.
Settling their fate and the clarification of ownership appear to be highly
problematical even today.
Following the stages of Pál Voit's journey, a number of comments
are in order, based on additional archive material and also on information
which has inevitably come to light in the course of work on Hun garian
public collections over a number of decades. I shall discuss some of the
mostly painful stations of Pál Voit's journey.
Szombathely is a county seat in the western marches of the country.
The person best acquainted with local conditions, whom Pál Voit
also wished to employ, was, beyond doubt, Ágoston Pável.
He, however, was prepared to co-operate only on "certain conditions".
The report is diplomatically silent on what exactly these conditions might
have been. Pável probably requested tactful treatment in connection
with his role during the war years, an assurance which the ministerial
commissioner was unauthorized to give. Pável had participated in
the sequestration and collection of Jewish-owned works of art and historical
treasures which had taken place in 1944. This had been directed from Buda
pest, by the "Jewish Government Com mis sion" (full name: "Government
Com mis sion for the Registration and Safe guarding of Art Treasures Sequestrated
from Jews"). Those engaged on the job were acting on official orders
and only a few dared to resist this "central direction". Like
Ágoston Pável, many "Government Commission ers",
however, saved Jewish-owned movable property, showing good will. The Hungarian
Jewish community was quick to issue a statement on this as early as 1945,
that post-1945 measures were of little or no account. The report did not
mention the fact that, as a result of a direct hit by a bomb, Szombathely
Cathedral's enormous altarpiece by Franz Anton Maul bertsch and his studio
had been completely destroyed.
Répceszentgyörgy: The house there served mostly as
a summer residence for Bishop Mikos. The art collection, furniture and
interior fittings were--as Voit wrote--taken away by "soldiers of
unknown nationality". This expression was an early example of the
euphemisms used when dealing with matters that concerned the Soviets, and
occurs on very many occasions in post-war archive material. In each and
every instance it meant Soviet troops. At that time the Germans could by
and large be named openly, since they were already out of the country.
Vasszécsény: Of the Ebergényis' two old
and interesting houses there, one was built in the 16th century. The enormous
number of art treasures that the two homes contained were destroyed during
the fighting. Most of the buildings listed in the neighbourhood were also
large. Many objects from the museum at nearby Vasvár were actually
taken by the Ger mans, and the majority have never come to light. In a
number of places the more important objects were removed from the buildings
by local inhabitants.
Kõszeg: Near the Austrian border, this is stil one of
the most prosperous and beautiful little towns in Hungary with a unique
historic townscape. Fortuna tely, it escaped wartime damage, and a number
of privately-owned art collections survive there presently. István
Lehrner's (Lelkes) solution for the problems connected with the Chernel
house was a rare occurence. Here it should be noted that the furniture
and fittings which passed into the hands of the parties, principally the
Communist and the Small holders' Parties, later ended up in a museum.
Celldömölk: The Soviet requisitioning of the premises
housing the Lázár collection was a typical case. For a considerable
period of time the Hungarian authorities were not allowed into the building,
and the objects housed there could not be found when the soldiers and their
families moved out. It would appear that in Celldömölk the Soviet
soldiers rarely appropriated things that could be regarded as art work,
nor did they hand them over to military authorities. Much was destroyed,
however, as a result of careless handling. It later turned out that the
soldiers put up in this building carried on a lively barter trade with
the local population, and with shrewd buyers from further afield. In this
exchange many valuable objects were dispersed. The great majority of these
cannot be identified. Occasionally, and even today, a few first-rate objects
come to light which can be identified on the basis of a family coat of
arms or in some other way. However, the greater part of the objects that
disappeared in this way were, in the course of time, smuggled abroad. Ikervár,
the huge centre of the Batthyány estate, served as a recreational
area for the Red Army, and while it was used as such its contents disappeared.
Sárvár: Sárvár Castle, once the home
of the Nádasdy family, was one of the few to survive more or less
intact. It was used by the Red Army for a long time. The building and a
significant part of the estates around it was owned by a Bavarian prince.
A considerable part of the furniture and fittings removed by the owner
had been brought to Hungary by him. We have our doubts regarding the removal
of another part: art works which, to the best of our knowledge, were not
given export licenses. The small quantity of furniture and fittings which
remained at Sárvár turned up later. With the knowledge and
consent of their Wittelsbach owner, most of the items were put on display
in the museum set up in the building.
Szentivánfa: One of the many country residences which
belonged to the Bezerédj family. The building could be more precisely
described as a manor house. Its furniture and fittings were extremely valuable.
There is every indication that the precious-metal objects were looted by
the Germans, or possibly by Arrow-Cross men. As Voit writes, the house
was destroyed by the Arrow Cross. During the war Szent ivánfa must
have been one of the most horrific places in the country: insofar as it
is possible to reconstruct events, it could have been the Hungarian Salo.
The two surviving female members of the Bezerédj family left nothing
to chance: they hid the gold and silver objects in the walls in two places.
The commercial material (which formed the larger part) was found by the
Germans and carried off. The material of his torical value was discovered
and taken by the Soviets. Not one piece has so far come to light. In both
cases the hidden treasures were found on the basis of informers' reports.
Vép: Residence of the Counts Erdõdy. The indications
are that the building was emptied by Soviet soldiers. The contents were
thrown out, or destroyed. The villag ers played a major role in the carrying
away of the valuables, of which hardly any have since come to light. Similarly,
no trace remains of the pieces saved by the owner, Count Sándor
Erdõdy. A few family portraits, however, survived in some mysterious
way, and were passed on to a museum.
Somlyóvár: Residence of the Counts Erdõdy.
Some collections at the Budapest War Museum (today's Museum of War History)
were moved to the provinces. One was taken to Somlyóvár.
Voit's clear account gave rise to the suspicion that the disappearance
of the objects could be laid at the door of the Soviet military authorities,
wrongly, as it turned out. However, with regard to treasures placed elsewhere
by the War Museum, what happened is somewhat vague. According to rumours
circulating in Russia, many such war history relics taken from Hungary
are in Moscow.
Szentgotthárd: Here Voit succeeded in getting hold of
numerous pieces left behind by Szálasi's fleeing supporters. He
merely touches on the theme. A great percentage of museum and private collection
objects that remained in the town were later returned to Budapest and for
the most part were restored to their original owners. The consignments
sent to Austria were seized by the American authorities and approximately
95 per cent of their material was returned to Hungary between 1945 and
1947. This material--much affected by the vicissitudes of its transportation
by repeated and careless re-packing, and by transshipment--could be exhibited
only after many years of restoration work.
Körmend: The Renaissance Batthyány mansion was one
of the country's largest buildings and contained treasures accumulated
by an immensely rich family over a period of 800 years. The contents, which
were of matchless value, survived the war in a manner that bordered on
the miraculous. The building unfortunately passed into the hands of the
Soviet military, following a modest amount of looting by the local population,
and Cossacks, not really renowned for their restrained behaviour, were
billetted in it. Together with his pupils, an outstanding teacher, amply
bles sed with a sense of responsibility, somehow endeavoured to save at
least part of the material. The objects at Körmend were too good simply
to fall prey to destruction; Soviet experts took away not only tapestries
bearing pictorial designs and coats of arms, but also carpets and other
items of immense value--among them enormous Turkish ornamented tents--in
three freight wagons. Using lorries, the Russian soldiers at Körmend
took the weapons collection (of several thousand pieces) and the Batthyány
archives (one of the largest in Hungary) to the outskirts of the town,
where they discarded everything. János Kõszegi and his helpers
gathered up all they could, dried documents (many dated back to the Early
Middle Ages which had become soaked, and took the weapons to safety. Later
on the documents passed to the Hungarian National Archives, and the weapons
to the Hungarian National Mu seum, where they now make up the bulk of the
weapons collection. A considerable number of them boasted ivory or precious
metal inlays. Some are carefully selected hunting weapons of unique importance.
According to Voit and Kõszegi, the family pictures were completely
destroyed. But the truth was a little kinder: although the paintings suffered
serious damage, most of them later passed to museums and many could be
restored. Their survival was helped by the fact that soldiers could put
pictures to practical use. For example, an equestrian portrait showing
one of the Batthyány-Strattmann princes served as a lavatory door.
When the Soviet troops pulled out of the building, just one painting remained
intact: a large equestrian portrait showing Maria Theresa as Queen of Hungary.
One explanation for its survival is that for some reason the Russians thought
it was of Catherine the Great, and therefore spared it. Furthermore, many
objects found their way into private homes nearby, since in Körmend,
too, Russian soldiers carried on a barter trade with Hungarian civilians.
During the course of a swift police operation, most of these were confiscated
and taken to a museum. The works of the greatest value, however, never
came to light.
Alsópaty: A small country house own ed by the Felsõbüki
Nagy family. A considerable quantity of the material it contained was destroyed.
However, surprisingly many of its stoves and pictures survived and are
still in the building, which is open to the public.
Bük: Szapáry residence. The greater part of the Szapáry
archives were destroy ed. All traces of the paintings mentioned by Voit
have been lost: they were, presumably, taken to the West. The Szapáry
family homes were generally beautifully and richly furnished. As the main
legacee to the Venetian Morosini collection, the family obtained primarily
Italian and Venetian pictures. It included masterpieces by Giovanni Bellini,
Giambattista Tiepolo, Sebastiano Ricci, Giambattista Piazzetta, the two
Longhis, Luca Giordano, and many others. Nearly all left the country, with
a good many going to major world museums (for example, a Tiepolo ceiling
passed to the Brera in Milan).
Peresznye: Berchtold gallery. Cha rac teristically, this family
had a palace on the Grand Canal, and the material was mostly Italian. With
the exception of the few works donated to the parish church in Nagyorosz
and to the Archiepiscopal Museum in Esztergom, almost everything was removed
from Hungary, with just a few water colours turning up in the Hungarian
art trade decades later. The contents of the gallery are not as well known
as that of the Szapárys.
Sopron: As in Kõszeg, conditions here remained comparatively
good. The Corvina codices mentioned in the report all came to light and
were returned to libraries in Budapest. The numismatic material looted
by the Germans was not recovered. Endre Csatkai, the director of the local
museum, did everything possible to save material, and his efforts were
largely successful.
Eszterháza: This palace, where Haydn worked as Kappelmeister (1772-1790)
and was known as the "Hungarian Versailles," suffered enormous
damage, and so did the park. The primary cause of the destruction was the
billeting of soldiers there in 1945. Some of the furniture and fittings
were burnt by Soviet troops, some were discarded, and others were bartered
with the local population. Of the several thousand art works in the building,
scarcely any remained. Even twenty to thirty years later it was still possible
to purchase outstanding pieces from people living in the area. This was
the greatest single loss to occur in Western Transdanubia.
Hédervár: Approximately 10,000 volumes, some 10
per cent of the whole of the vast Khuen-Héderváry library,
survived. These were brought to Budapest. The pictures left in place remained
in the Soviet military hospital housed there, and they have disappeared
without trace. The chapel, though, remained untouched. Later on a Hungarian
primary school was established in the building. It was then that the valuable
furniture and fittings--such as the Rococo-tiled stoves--were discarded.
Not every house, town or village has been mentioned in the above list.
It is perhaps worth noting things about which Voit is silent, since they
lay outside his brief, namely that the Soviet authorities, throughout the
whole of Hungary, took away anything that could be moved from every bank,
financial institution and public warehouse. This property, too, included
art works and art collections. The fate of these is unknown.
The conclusion has to be very brief. At the end of his report, Pál
Voit writes: "I was able to establish that in this region 80 per cent
of the art relics from the Hun garian past have been destroyed." As
we know today, this was a cautious and optimistic estimate. The real quantity
lost probably exceeded 90 per cent, although the precise figure will, in
all probability, never be known.
László Mravik
is a curator at the Hungarian National Gallery, Budapest, and author
of North Italian Fifteenth Century Paintings, Corvina Books, 1978, published
also in Russian, French, German and Hungarian.
