Having occasion to go to Mainz, I sent overnight to apprise the ass,
Katherinchen, and the groom of her bedchamber, Luy, that I should
require the one to carry, the other to follow me to that place.
Accordingly, when seven o'clock, the hour for my departure, arrived,
on descending the staircase of the great Bad-Haus, I found Luy in
light marching order, leaning against one of the plane trees in the
shrubbery, but no quadruped! In the man's dejected countenance, it
was at once legible that his Katherinchen neither was nor would
be forthcoming; and he had began to ejaculate a very long-winded
lamentation, in which I heard various times repeated something about
sacks of flour and Langen-Schwalbach: however, Luy's sighs smelt so
strongly of rum, that not feeling as sentimental on the subject as
himself, I at once prevailed upon him to hire for me from a peasant
a little long-tailed pony, which he accordingly very soon brought to
the door. The wretched creature (which for many years had evidently
been the property of a poor man) had been employed for several months
in the dryest of all worldly occupations, namely, in carrying hard
stone bottles to the great brunnen of Nieder-Selters, and had only
the evening before returned home from that uninteresting job. It was
evident she had had alloted to her much more work than food, and as she
stood before me with a drooping head, she shut her eyes as if she were
going to sleep. I at first determined on sending the poor animal back,
but being assured by Luy that, in that case, she would have much harder
work to perform, I reluctantly mounted her, and at a little jog-trot,
which seemed to be her best--her worst--in fact, her only pace, we
both, in very humble spirits, placidly proceeded towards Mainz.
Luy, who besides what he had swallowed, had naturally a great deal of
spirit of his own, by no means, however, liked being left behind; and
though I had formally bidden him adieu, and was greatly rejoicing that
I had done so, yet, while I was ascending the mountain, happening to
look behind me, I saw the fellow following me at a distance like a
wolf. I, therefore, immediately, pulled at my rein, a hint which the
pony most readily understood, and as soon as Luy came up, I told him
very positively he must return. Seeing that he was detected, he at once
gave up the point; yet the faithful vassal, still having a hankering to
perform for me some little parting service, humbly craved permission
to see if the pony's shoes were, to use the English expression, "all
right." The two fore ones were declared by him (with a hiccup) to
be exactly as they should be; but no sooner did he proceed to make
his tipsy reflections on the hind ones, than in one second the pony
seemed by magic to be converted into a mad creature! Luy fell, as if
struck by lightning, to the ground, while the tiny thing, with its
head between its legs (for the rein had been lying loose on its neck),
commenced a series of most violent kicks, which I seriously thought
never would come to an end.
As good luck would have it, I happened, during the operation, to cleave
pretty closely to my saddle, but what thunder-clap had so suddenly
soured the mild disposition of my palfray, I was totally unable to
conceive! It turned out, however, that the poor thing's paroxysm had
been caused by an unholy alliance that had taken place between the root
of her tail and the bowl of Luy's pipe, which, on his reeling against
her, had become firmly entangled in the hair, and it was because it
remained there for about half a minute, burning her very violently,
that she had kicked, or, as a lawyer would term it, had protested in
the violent manner and form I have described.
After I had left Luy, it took some time before the poor frightened
creature could forget the strange mysterious sensation she had
experienced; however, her mind, like her tail, gradually becoming easy,
her head drooped, the rein again hung on her neck, and in a mile or two
we continued to jog on together in as good and sober fellowship as if
no such eccentric calamity had befallen us.
As we were thus ascending the mountain by a narrow path, we came
suddenly to a tree loaded with most beautiful black cherries evidently
dead ripe. The poor idiot of Schlangenbad had escaped from the hovel
in which he had passed so many years of his vacant existence, and I
here found him literally gorging himself with the fruit. For a moment
he stopped short in his meal, wildly rolling eyes, and looking at
me, as if his treacherous, faithless brain could not clearly tell
him whether I was a friend or an enemy: however, his craving stomach
being much more violent than any reflections the poor creature had
power to entertain, he suddenly seemed to abandon all thought, and
again greedily returned to his work. He was a man about thirty, with
features, separately taken, remarkably handsome: he had fine hazel
eyes, and aquiline nose, and a good mouth; yet there was a horrid twist
in the arrangement, in which not only his features but his whole frame
was put together, which, at a single glance, pointed him out to me as
one of those poor beings who, here and there, are mysteriously sent to
make their appearance on this earth, as if practically to explain to
mankind, and negatively to prove to them, the inestimable blessing of
reason, which is but too often thanklessly enjoyed.
The cherries, which were hanging in immense clusters around us, were
plucked five or six at a time by the poor lame creature before me,
but his thumb and two fore-fingers being apparently paralyzed, he
was obliged to grasp the fruit with his two smallest, and thus, by a
very awkward turn of his elbow, he seemed apparently to be eating the
cherries out of the palm of his hand, which was raised completely above
his head.
Not a cherry did he bite, but, with canine voracity, he continued to
swallow them, stones and all; however, there was evidently a sharp
angle or tender corner in his throat, for I particularly remarked, that
whenever the round fruit passed a certain point, it caused the idiot's
eyes to roll, and a slight convulsion in his frame continued until the
cherry had reached the place of its destination.
The enormous quantity of ripe fruit which I saw this poor creature
swallow in the way I have described quite astonished me; however, it
was useless to attempt to offer him advice, so instead I gave him what
all people like so much better--a little money--partly to enable him to
buy himself richer food, and partly because I wished to see whether he
had sense enough to attach any value to it.
The silver was no sooner in his hand than, putting it most rationally
into the loose pocket of his ragged, coarse cloth trowsers, he
instantly returned to his work with as much avidity as ever. Seeing
that there was to be no end to his meal, I left him hard at it, and
continued to ascend the hill, until the path, suddenly turning to the
right, took me by a level track into the great forest.
The sun had hitherto been very unpleasantly hot, but I was now
sheltered from its rays, while the pure mountain air gave to the
foliage a brightness which in the Schlangenbad woods I had so often
stopped to admire. Although it was midsummer, the old brown beech
leaves of last year still covered the surface of the ground; yet they
were so perfectly dry, that far from there being anything unhealthy or
gloomy in their appearance, they formed a very beautiful contrast with
the bright, clean, polished leaves, as well as with the white, shining
bark of the beech trees, out of which they had only a year ago sprung
into existence. This russet covering of the ground was, generally
speaking, in shade, but every here and there were bright sparkling
patches of sunshine, which, having penetrated the foliage, shone like
gaudy patterns in a dark carpet.
As the breeze gently stole among the trees, their branches in silence
bowing as it passed them, their brown leaves, being crisp and dry,
occasionally moved;--occasionally they were more violently turned over
by small fallow deer, which sometimes darted suddenly across my path,
their skin clean as the foliage on which they slept--their eye darker
than the night, yet brighter than the pure stream from which they drank.
Enjoying the variety of this placid scene, I took every opportunity,
in search of novelty, to change my track; still, from the position
of the sun, always knowing whereabouts I was, I contrived ultimately
to proceed in the direction I desired, and after having been for a
considerable time completely enveloped in the forest, I suddenly burst
into hot sunshine close to Georgenborn, a little village, hanging most
romantically on the mountain's side.
The Rhine, and the immense country beyond it, now flashed upon my view,
and as I trotted along the unassuming street, it was impossible to
help admiring the magnificent prospect which these humble villagers
constantly enjoyed; however, the mind, like the eye, soon becomes
careless of the beauties of creation, and as my pony jogged onwards in
his course, I found that the cottagers looked upon us both with much
greater interest than upon that everlasting traveller the Rhine. Every
woman we met, with great civility grunted "Guten Morgen!" as we passed
her, while each mountain peasant seen standing at a door, or even at a
window, made obeisance to us as we crossed his meridian, all people's
eyes following us as far as they could reach.
From Georgenborn, descending a little, we crossed a piece of table or
level land, on which there stood a rock of a very striking appearance.
Where it had come from, Heaven (from whence apparently it had fallen)
probably only knows. As if from the force with which it had been
dropped upon its site, it had split into two pieces, separated by a
yawning crevice, yet small trees or bushes had grown upon each summit,
while the same beech foliage appeared in the forest which surrounded
them.
Passing close beneath this rock, I continued trotting towards the east
for about a league, when gradually descending into a milder climate, I
was hailed by the vineyards which luxuriously surround the sequestered
little village of Frauenstein.
Upon a rock overhanging the hamlet there stood solemnly before me the
remains of the old castle of Frauenstein or Frankenstein, supposed to
have been built in the thirteenth century. In the year 1300 it was sold
to the Archbishop Gerhardt, of Mainz, but soon afterwards, being ruined
by the Emperor Albrecht I., in a tithe war which he waged against the
prelate, it was restored to its original possessors.
But what more than its castle attracted my attention in the village
of Frauenstein, was an immense plane-tree, the limbs of which had
originally been trained almost horizontally, until, unable to support
their own weight, they were now maintained by a scaffolding of stout
props. Under the parental shadow of this venerable tree, the children
of the village were sitting in every sort of group and attitude; one
or two of their mothers, in loose, easy dishabille, were spinning,
many people were leaning against the upright scaffolding, and a couple
of asses were enjoying the cool shade of the beautiful foliage, while
their drivers were getting hot and tipsy in a wine-shop, the usual sign
of which is in Germany the branch of a tree affixed to the door-post.
As I had often heard of the celebrated tree of Frauenstein, before
which I now stood, I resolved not to quit it until I had informed
myself of its history, for which I well knew I had only to apply to
the proper authorities: for in Germany, in every little village, there
exists a huge volume either deposited in the church, or in charge of an
officer called the Schuldheisz, in which the history of every castle,
town, or object of importance is carefully preserved. The young peasant
reads it with enthusiastic delight, the old man reflects upon it with
silent pride, and to any traveller, searching for antiquarian lore, its
venerable pages are most liberally opened, and the simple information
they contain generously and gratuitously bestowed.
On inquiring for the history of this beautiful tree, I was introduced
to a sort of doomsday-book about as large as a church Bible; and when I
compared this volume with a little secluded spot so totally unknown to
the world as the valley or glen of Frauenstein, I was surprised to find
that the autobiography of the latter could be so bulky,--in short, that
it had so much to say of itself. But it is the common weakness of man,
and particularly, I acknowledge, of an old man, to fancy that all his
thoughts as well as actions are of vast importance to the world; why
therefore should not the humble Frauenstein be pardoned for an offence
which we are all in the habit of committing?
In this ancient volume, the rigmarole history of the tree was told
with so much eccentric German genius, it displayed such a graphic
description of highborn sentiments and homely life, and altogether
it formed so curious a specimen of the contents of these strange
sentimental village histories, that I procured the following literal
translation, in which the German idiom is faithfully preserved at the
expense of our English phraseology.
* * * * *