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

by Wilhelmine von Hillern

Freyer paused and stood gazing into vacancy with folded arms.

The burgomaster watched him calmly a long time. "I have listened to you quietly because your view of the matter interested me. It is the idea of an enthusiast, a character becoming more and more rare in our prosaic times. But pardon me--I can give it only a subjective value. According to your theory, I must keep Ammergau, as a bit of the Middle Ages, from any contact with the outside world, rob it of every aid in the advancement of its industrial and material interests in order, as it were, to prepare the unfortunate people, by want and trouble, to be worthy representatives of the Passion. This would be admirable if, instead of Burgomaster of Ammergau, I were Grand Master of an Order for the practice of spiritual asceticism--and Ammergau were a Trappist monastery. But as burgomaster of a secular community, I must first of all provide for its prosperity, and that this would produce too much luxury there is not, as yet, unfortunately, the slightest prospect! My task as chief magistrate of a place is first to render it as great, rich, and happy as possible, that is a direct obligation to the village and an indirect one to the State. Not until I have satisfied this can I consider the more ideal side of my office--in my capacity as director of the Passion Play. But even there I have no authority to exercise any moral constraint in the sense of your noble--but fanatical and unpractical view. You must have had bitter experiences, Herr Freyer, that you hold earthly blessings so cheap, and you must not expect to convert simple-hearted people, who enjoy their lives and their work, to these pessimistic views, as if we could serve our God only with a troubled mind. We must let a people, as well as a single person, retain its individuality. I want to rear no hypocrites, and I cannot force martyrdom on any one, in order to represent the Passion Play more naturally. Such things cannot be enforced."

"For that very reason you need people who will do them voluntarily! And though, thank Heaven, they still exist in Ammergau, you have not such an over supply that you need repel those who would fain increase the little band. Believe me, I have lived in closer communion with my home in the outside world than if I had remained here and been swayed by the various opposing streams of our brothers' active lives! Do you know where the idea of the Passion Play reveals itself in its full beauty? Not here in Ammergau--but in the world outside--as the gas does not give its light where it is prepared, but at a distance. Therefore, I think you ought not to measure a son of Ammergau's claim according to the time he has spent here, but according to the feeling he cherishes for Ammergau, and in this sense even the stranger may be a better representative of Ammergau than the natives of the village themselves."

"Yes, Freyer, you are right--but--one frank word deserves another. You have surprised and touched me--but although I am compelled to make many concessions to circumstances and the spirit of the times, which are in contradiction to my own views and involve me in conflicts with myself, of which you younger men probably have no idea--nothing in the world will induce me to be faithless to my principles in matters connected with the Passion. Forgive the harsh words, Freyer, but I must say it: Your actions do not agree with the principles you have just uttered, and you cannot make this contradiction appear plausible to any one. Who will credit the sincerity of your moral rigor after you have lived nine years in an equivocal relation with the lady with whom you left us? Freyer, a man who has done that--can no longer personate the Christ."

Freyer stood silent as a statue.

The burgomaster held out his hand--"You see that I cannot act otherwise; do you not? Rather let the Play die out utterly than a Christus on whom rests a stain. So long as you cannot vindicate yourself--"

Freyer drew himself proudly: "And that I will never do!"

"You must renounce it."

"Yes, I must renounce it. Farewell, Herr Burgomaster!"

Freyer bowed and left the room--he was paler than when he entered, but no sound betrayed the mortal anguish gnawing at his heart. The burgomaster, too, was painfully moved. His poor head was burning--he was sorry for Freyer, but he could not do otherwise.