BRANKOVICH, GRGUR (STYLITE)

(1676-1701)--in Eastern Christianity the word "stylite" signifies an ascetic monk who lives his life in prayer on top of a pillar. In the case of Grgur Brankovich, however, the term Stylite served as a nickname, and it was given to him in a very peculiar way. Grugr Brankovich was actually a company commander from the Brankovich family of Erdely and the eldest son of the 17th-century diplomat and military leader Avram Brankovich. He survived his father by only twelve years. It is written that he was spotted like a leopard and very deft at midnight attacks. He wore a precious saber made of seventy metal leaves that had been forged while the blacksmith read out nine "Our Father"s in a row. He himself never heard the nickname Stylite, since he acquired it after the unusual death he suffered while in Turkish confinement. Hasan Agribirdi the Younger, the canon forger, left a description of his death that made its way into folk ballads, and it was as if Brankovich, through his nickname, became equated with the holy ascetic monks of the Christian church.

According to this description, Brankovich and some cavalrymen came upon a strong Turkish division by the Danube. The Turks had only just arrived and were sitting on their horses and pissing into the river from their saddles. As soon as he caught sight of them, Brankovich turned to flee. The Turkish commander saw him, but went right on peeing. Only when he had completely emptied his innards and shaken himself off did he pursue Brankovich and take him captive. They tied him and brought him to their camp, beating a drum with their spears. The Turks placed the captured Brankovich on a Greek pillar and three archers took aim at him. Before they began however, they told him that if he survived the fifth arrow they would grant him his life and give him a bow and arrows to shoot at the three men who had be shooting at him. He begged them not to shoot two arrows simultaneously, because "he could not count pains, only shots." And so the three shot at him while he counted. The first arrow hit his belt buckle, entered his intestines, and awakened all the pains that he had already been born once during his lifetime. The second arrow he managed to catch with his hand, but the third penetrated his ear and hung there like an earring, and he counted. The fourth missed him and the fifth hit him in the knee, veered off, and penetrated his other leg, but still he counted. The sixth missed again, the ninth riveted his hand to his thigh, and he counted. The eleventh shattered his elbow, the twelfth ruptured his lower back, but still he counted. He counted to seventeen and then fell from the pillar, dead. On that spot spouted wild grapes--vitis sylvestris--which are never bought or sold, for to do so is a sin.