Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg Castle

by Adolf Hausrath

The Magister at noon visited the church several times and brought in secretly a few objects, some of them from his own room, others were taken from the town into the chapel of the Convent. In the evening vespers were conducted as usual. When the organ had ceased playing the loud sounding recessional and the exulting Hallelujah, Paul appeared before the altar, where he found the three girls kneeling in a reverent position on the three first benches. A mystical semi-darkness filled a chapel never too bright. The young Priest uttered a prayer, and then made his three young friends a small discourse containing much of the same substance which we have already read in his remarks to the Countess Sabina. Man must not only think about a higher world, but must feel and experience it, so as to be certain of its existence. For this cause a holy man had thought of the exercises which he was about to go through with them. Their soul should in this very hour confer with Jesus about its belief as a friend with a friend, as a servant with its Lord. He himself would aid them. He then ordered the first of the maidens to kneel down in the gloom behind the altar, where on this day hung a picture representing in vivid and glaring colours the Holy family in the carpenter's shop. Next he took Bertha von Steinach already trembling with excitement by the hand and led her to a gloomy chapel at the side. Before the altar at which he bade her kneel was a large basket of roses. "Pray here, my dear child," he said, "and when thou hast reverently repeated a Pater noster, Ave Maria, Salve regina, Gloria and Magnificat, cast aside these flowers of the Spring and consider what is hidden behind the roses of this life." Then he led Lydia, gently supporting her by the arm to the steps of the organ, where in a semi-dark corner a strange casket covered over by a curtain, and having a round glass attached was visible. On it was written in Latin: "Memento mirror for Brother Paul, which will bring back his veritable calling to his recollection." "When you have prayed," said the Magister, inviting her to kneel by a gentle pressure on her young shoulders, "look through this glass, and it will show you what awaits you." He then ascended the pulpit and read slowly and with many interruptions a meditation out of his book, which described in coarse fanciful outlines, in stammering visionary language, the course, which the phantasy of the worshipper should follow. "I see," he began in a low suppressed tone, "the three Persons of the Godhead, looking down on the entire globe, filled with men who must go down into hell." "I see," continued he after a pause, "how the Holy Trinity concludes, that the second Person must take on himself human nature for the redemption of lost sinners."

"I now survey," he then read out after another pause, "the whole circumference of this earth and behold in a corner the hut of Mary. The Holy Personages stand around the crib at Bethlehem. A beam of light pours down on the divine child and I hear the song of praise of the heavenly host: 'Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace, goodwill towards men.'"

Then all was still in the church; the setting sun threw its last golden beams over the entablature. Stupefying clouds of incense arose in the close chapel, and low, moaning, sighing tones proceeded from the organ; they were motives from the Miserere, and Tenebrae played with variations by the Italian. Then again the reading was continued in a tone which fell like lead on the young souls of his audience, and deadened every free action of the mind. The chords increased in power, and filled the darkened space. The voices separated and joined again; some notes expressed the deep subjection of the sinner, his contrite humility, others spoke out in trumpet-like tones of the glorious Majesty. Then all became a chaotic struggling and wrestling. It was as if the earth itself opened its mouth to utter its sorrowful wail, and heaven returned an answer. So must it thus sound, when the mountains of the Alps join in converse, or the sea answers back the stormwind raging over it. The entire sorrow of finality wailed in those tones to the throne of the Highest, and the Grace from above came down, as hovers the Invisible over his worlds.

Clara von Eppingen, a plump fair Swabian kneeling at the altar, had in the meanwhile thoroughly imbued herself with the appearances of the Holy Family. How lovingly did the Madonna bend over the fair headed Christ child, which pulled at her neckband with its little hands; how paternally proud stood St. Joseph close at hand, whilst St. Anna in attendance on the child and mother surveyed the group. The Holy Family seemed to look back at the plump Clara with a kindly gaze, and the coarse strokes and vivid colors of the picture impressed themselves more and more on the mind of the almost entranced maiden. Had she been a woman, she would have loved to be the mother of such a brown-eyed Madonna, or fair Christ child; the Magister had treated her like Jacob did Laban's flocks, in causing her to remain kneeling for hours before this colored imagery. The thoroughly hearty maiden would have felt quite at her ease during these exercitia, had it not been for the rolling and sighing of the Organ which at times startled her, and had not a shriek of terror from the chapel, and a cry for help from the organ steps reached her ear.

The nervous and delicate Bertha von Steinach had in the meanwhile bent her curly head in prayer in the chapel over the sweet-smelling roses. As she then, as directed by the Magister, plunged her hand in among the flowers, a cold, flat surface met her fevered touch. In terror she seized it and drew out a skull, which gazed at her with hollowed eyes, and mocking drooping jaw. Tremblingly she wished to replace it, when a living object rustled past her. It was a ring adder which the Magister had concealed in the basket, and which now gliding over the floor disappeared behind the altar. At this the excited young maiden uttered the cry of terror, heard by her friend Clara, and on regaining her composure, she saw at the bottom of the basket, bloody nails, thorns on which hung pieces of wool, scourges with small knots at the end or leaden shot, sharp prongs, little wheels, and other instruments of mortification. Such things as these according to the words of the Magister lay concealed under the roses of life. In horrified anguish she knelt before the basket out of which the skull grinned back at her, and unresistingly did she give herself up to the tones which poured forth from the organ.

Matters had not been better for Lydia. She knelt before the "Mirror of remembrance" and could only bring her mind with difficulty to prayer. The dark round glass before her seemed to haunt her, and she felt as if she were about to see all the dead wives of Bluebeard the moment she looked into it. The tones of the organ however reassured her and she summoned up courage to follow the directions. A screech for help escaped her lips, the moment she looked into the glass. Immediately before her she saw a monk in his cowl, who seemed to move, but from under the hood she had recognised her own features, gazing pale, spiritualized, with awe-struck eyes. A chill seized her, and now the tones of the organ shook her to her very marrow. Long did she remain kneeling before summoning sufficient courage to look at the horrid image once again. Once more the same image; calm and pale sat the monk, but from under the cowl her own features met her gaze. Again she uttered a shriek of terror, and immediately her second-self opened its lips. Then the glass became dim and she was obliged to wipe it with her handkerchief. Doing this she became aware how the hand holding the cloth appeared from under the hood. Everything was now evident, she saw her own reflection. Indignant at the frightful spectre she drew the linen to one side, so as to examine with a girl's curiosity the matter thoroughly. Behind the curtain was painted a monk, whose wide cowl was filled up by a looking-glass, so that whosoever should happen to look in, must see his own face from under the hood. In her disgust she let the curtain drop. The impression produced on her had not been that intended by Paul. She did not complain at seeing her own countenance thus ghostly disfigured, looking out in the costume of one cut off from the world, but the Latin inscription, which contrary to Paul's expectation, she understood, rendered her uneasy, as marking through this monk's dress the veritable position of the Brother Paulus. The most strange and wondrous thoughts rushed through this bewildered child's head, and she was aroused from her darksome half terrifying, half sensuous dreams by the sudden and abrupt ceasing of the organ, as if death with its hard grip had straightway borne off the player. The two other worshippers aroused themselves with a start from out of the world of crowding thoughts, but immediately the melodious voice of the Italian sounded through the darkened church: "I survey the entire circumference of the earth and behold in a corner the home of Mary." When he had finished reading this meditation, he strode slowly up to the first of the penitents kneeling at the altar, and after turning the picture with its face to the wall, he laid his small hand gently over the maiden's eyes and asked: "Dost thou still see with thy spiritual eyes the Holy Family." "I think so," lisped the plump maiden. "Represent to thyself the hut, the saintly personages, their looks, their dress. Thou must see which persons stand in the shade, which in the light, what colors are used for their clothing. Thou must touch their foot prints, hear the rustle of their garments, feel their breath on thy cheek, before that thou mayest rise. Is it thus with thee, then answer 'Amen' and go with the sign of the Cross over thee, before that thy soul is again deadened." And bowing over her he imprinted a fatherly kiss on the head of the blooming child. He next crossed over to the excitable passionate Bertha von Steinach, who lay shaking with fever out-stretched on the cold stone floor before the death's head and the instruments of martyrdom. He saw with a feeling of contentment, the effect of the means he had employed and when he looked at this bruised reed now like pliable wax in his hand, he determined to knead her very soul. "Knowest thou," he asked, "where tarries the soul that used to gaze from these empty sockets?" The young maiden shook her head, without rising up. "It is in the place of torment, and thou shalt see it, writhing in the dread flames of Hell. Shut thine eyes and look within the space through which the glowing flames break. Dost thou not hear the wail of the damned, their meanings, their screams, their shrieks, their blasphemies against Christ? Dost thou smell the sulphurous vapor, the breath of corruption, the stink of the slimy pool, reeking upwards? Dost thou taste on thy tongue the salty bitterness of the tears wept by those below? Feelest thou on thy fingers the flames, by whose glow the souls of the damned are now burning?"

"Oh no, no," sighed the terrified child. Then the dark figure knelt at her side. She felt his breath on her cheek, how he was shaken with convulsive tremors as he wrestled in prayers, she heard him whispering in her ear in fanatical excitement. "I see millions and millions of beings writhing and shrivelling in the everlasting fire. I see how the pupil of their eyes roll with indescribable fever, how their hacked and mangled limbs quiver with unendurable pain. Ah, how bodies wind themselves round one another, how yells for mercy sound, but the heaven above them is brazen. Only the echo of their shouts return to them. There however and yonder again in the dark corners grin the masks of devils with birdlike faces, froglike bodies, and eagle claws. They hover like bats around the damned and mock their torments. Now they seize the heaps of the tortured, they shoulder them, and away with them to the chaldron of burning brimstone. Dost thou see how the blue flames flare upwards? If one attempts to creep out, the devils flog him in again with snake scourges; dost thou see that one winding himself as a serpent round the body of yonder woman, and the toad on her body and the devil kissing her with his bat-like snout? Now the devils lay their heads together; how they gnash with their teeth, how their mocking laugh resounds! They are considering new torments, sharper tortures. Dost thou see them shaking in fresh pitch, and the red column of flame now rising upwards? Now the smoke hides the light; a vapour conceals the ruddy glow, but the shrieks of terror increase. See how they look at us, how they stretch out their hands to us, they beg for our help, our prayers...."

"Oh, I can endure no more," sighed the poor child--"every thing smells of sulphur, I faint--I must leave."

"Go, my daughter, but preserve in a true heart, that which thou has seen."

Clara and Lydia Erast still lay with bowed heads in their dark corners. The young Priest took his seat at the organ and played in gentle, soothing strains, calculated to loose the souls of the penitents from their excitement. A light step through the Church told him that the second maiden was now leaving. Only Lydia remained in her dark corner. The tall figure now approached her. Did he more resemble the archangel of God, or the angel which had fallen away through lofty pride from the Eternal, as he thus approached in the gloom the silent worshipper? Never had Paolo looked handsomer. His black eyes gleamed with the fire of that ecstasy into which he had worked himself, and a changing colour glowed over his pale cheek. "Dost thou feel the sweetness of heavenly love," he whispered. "Lydia, dost thou see the sweet smiling lips of the Saviour?" The kneeling Lydia felt, how he bowed his face over her head, her bosom worked tempestuously up and down, her cheeks assumed a deeper colour. As if in the fervor of prayer he seized her hand, and the maiden felt his own tremble. "Canst thou see nothing?" he stammered. "Ah, wherever I look, I see dark brown eyes fixed on me." And carried out of herself, filled with a deep passion, she arose. His self-command now entirely forsook him. He pressed her to him with wild desire, his burning feverish lips sought her own. Powerless she lay in his arms. The minutes flew as if but seconds. Suddenly a cold severe voice was heard. "Are these your exercises, Magister Laurenzano?" called out the Abbess appearing from behind the organ. "Go to thy room, Lydia," she said to the trembling maiden, and on finding herself alone with the Magister, she drew back the window curtain, so that the last rays of the sun fell on the hidden corner. The young Priest lay as if overwhelmed on the nearest bench, his head buried in the cushion. He answered not a word, as the infuriated Matron continued her harangue. "For this cause would you impress these mystic sensuous images on the souls of confiding children, and fan in them an impure passion, so as to bring about their ruin? Shame on you, a thousand times shame. Better would it be, to attain your evil design by force, than to destroy in this manner the innocency of their hearts."