On the Cross: A Romance of the Passion Play at Oberammergau

by Wilhelmine von Hillern

"Such phrases touch women, but not men, Herr Freyer!"

Freyer straightened himself like a bent bush which suddenly shakes off the snow that burdened it. "I have not desired to touch any one, my conscience is clear, and I do not need to appeal to your compassion. A person may be ill and feeble enough to long for sympathy, without intending to profit by it. I thought that I might let my heart speak, that I should be understood here. I was mistaken. It is not I who have become estranged from my home--home has grown alienated from me and you, as the ruling power in the community, who might mediate between us, sever the last bond which united me to it. Answer for it one day to Ammergau, if you expel those who would shed their heart's blood for you, and to whom the cause of the Passion Play is still an earnest one."

"Oh, Herr Freyer, it would be sad indeed if we were compelled to seek earnest supporters of our cause in the ranks of the deserters--who abandoned us from selfish motives."

"Herr Burgomaster!--" Freyer reflected a moment--it was difficult to fathom what was passing in his mind--it seemed as if he were gathering strength from the inmost depths of his heart to answer this accusation. "It is a delicate matter to speak in allegories, where deeds are concerned--you began it out of courtesy to me--and I will continue from the same motive, though figurative language is not to my taste--we strike a mark in life without having aimed! But to keep to your simile: I have only deserted in my own person, if you choose to call it so, and have now voluntarily returned--But you, Herr Burgomaster, how have you guarded, in my absence, the fortress entrusted to your care?"

The burgomaster flushed crimson, but his composure remained unshaken: "Well?"

"You have opened your gates to the most dangerous foes, to everything which cannot fail to destroy the good old Ammergau customs; you have done everything to attract strangers and help Ammergau in a business way--it was well meant in the material sense--but not in the ideal one which you emphasize so rigidly in my case! The more you open Ammergau to the influences of the outside world, the more the simplicity, the piety, the temperance will vanish, without which no great work of faith like the Passion Play is possible. The world has a keen appreciation of truth--the world believes in us because we ourselves believe in it--as soon as we progress so far in civilization that it becomes a farce to our minds, we are lost, for then it will be a farce to the world also. You intend to secure in the Landrath the cutting of a road through the Ettal Mountain. That would be a great feat--one might say: 'Faith removes mountains,' for on account of the Passion Play consent would perhaps be granted, then your name, down to the latest times, would be mentioned in the history of Ammergau with gratitude and praise. But do you know what you will have done? You will have let down the drawbridge to the mortal foe of everything for which you battle, removed the wall which protected the individuality of Ammergau and amid all the changes of the times, the equalizing power of progress, has kept it that miracle of faith to which the world makes pilgrimages. For a time the world will come in still greater throngs by the easier road--but in a few decades it will no longer find the Ammergau it seeks--its flood will have submerged it, washed it away, and a new, prosperous, politic population will move upon the ruins of a vanished time and a buried tradition.

"Freyer!" The burgomaster was evidently moved: "You see the matter in too dark colors--we are still the old people of Ammergau and God will help us to remain so."

"No, you are so no longer. Already there are traces of a different, more practical view of life--of so-called progress. I read to-day at Ludwig's the play-bills of the practise theatre which you have established during the last ten years since the Passion Play! Herr Burgomaster, have you kept in view the seriousness of the mission of Ammergau when you made the actors of the Passion buffoons?"

"Freyer!" The burgomaster drew himself up haughtily.

"Well, Herr Burgomaster, have you performed no farces, or at least comic popular plays? Was the Carver of Ammergau--which for two years you had publicly performed on the consecrated ground of the Passion Theatre, adapted to keep the impression of the Passion Play in the souls of the people of Ammergau? No--the last tear of remembrance which might have lingered would be dried by the exuberant mirth, which once roused would only too willingly exchange the uncomfortable tiara for the lighter fool's cap! And you gave the world this spectacle, Herr Burgomaster, you showed the personators of the story of our Lord and Saviour's sufferings in this guise to the strangers, who came, still full of reverence, to see the altar--on which the sacred fire had smouldered into smoke! I know you will answer that you wished to give the people a little breathing space after the terrible earnestness of the Passion Play and, from your standpoint, this was prudent, for you will be the gainer if the community is cheerful under your rule. Happy people are more easily governed than grave, thoughtful ones! I admit that you have no other desire than to make the people happy according to your idea, and that your whole ambition is to leave Ammergau great and rich. But, Herr Burgomaster, you cannot harmonize the two objects of showing the world, with convincing truth, the sublime religion of pain and resignation, and living in ease and careless frivolity. The divine favor cannot be purchased without the sacrifice of pleasure and personal comfort, otherwise we are merely performing a puppet show with God, and His blessing will be withdrawn."