On the banks of the rivulet Lockwitz, in Hungary, and upon the borders
of Thuringia, where a convent formerly stood, which was destroyed in the
time of the Hussites, is situated the Castle of Lauenstein. This church
property, in process of time, came under the secular arm, and became the
possession of the Count of Orlamunda, who gave this deserted domain as
a feu to one of his vassals, who, upon the ruins of the convent, built
himself a castle, and either gave his name to the property, or took his
from it, for he was called the Baron of Lauenstein.
It soon became manifest that the property of the church does not prosper
in the hands of the laity, and that such sacrilege is always punished
in one way or another. The bones of the holy nuns, which for ages had
reposed in peace in the gloomy caverns of the grave, could not, with
indifference, endure this profanation of their sanctuary. These mouldy
dead bones rebelled against the violation, rattled and rustled in the
silence of night, and raised a fearful clattering and noise in the
passage leading to the church, which had not been destroyed. The nuns,
with solemn pomp, often made a procession round the castle, wandered
through the apartments, opened and dashed to the doors, by which the
Baron was disturbed in his sleep, and could not get rest in his bed.
They raged in the hall, or in the stables, terrified the maids,
twitched and pinched them, sometimes here, sometimes there;--plagued the
cattle--the cows were drained of their milk, and the horses pranced and
snorted, and beat their stalls to pieces. This mischievous behaviour of
the pious sisters, and their incessant tricks, which embittered the life
of both man and beast, touk away all spirit from every member of the
household, down to the very bull-dog.
[Illustration: 204]
The Baron spared no expense, by means of the most renowned exorcists,
to bring these tumultuary inmates to peace and silence; but the most
powerful exorcisms, before which the whole kingdom of Belial trembled,
and the sprinkling brush dipped in holy water, which generally chases
away the evil spirits, as a fly-flap chases away the flies from the
apartment, for a long time could do nothing against the obstinacy of
those spectre Amazons, who so stoutly maintained their right to their
former possessions, that the exorcists, with the holy implements of
relics, were sometimes obliged to take to flight, and leave them masters
of the field. At last, a conjuror, who was travelling about the country
for the purpose of spying out witches, catching goblins, and delivering
the possessed from the brood of evil spirits, succeeded in bringing the
spectral night revellers to obedience, and again shut them up in their
gloomy vaults, with permission there to wag their skulls, and rattle and
clatter their bones, as much as they pleased.
All was now quiet in the Castle, the nuns again slept the still sleep
of death; but, after seven years, one unquiet sister spirit again
awoke, and once more made her appearance in the night, and for some time
continued her former pranks, until she tired, then rested seven years,
and then paid another visit to the upper world, and re-visited the
Castle. In time, the family became accustomed to the apparition; only,
when the period of her appearance approached, the domestics took care to
avoid the passage through which she was to come, and kept close to their
apartments.
After the decease of the first possessors, the inheritance fell to the
next in descent, and there never had failed a male heir, until the
time of the thirty years’ war, when the last branch of the Lauensteins
flourished: in whose production nature appeared to have exhausted her
power. So lavish had she been of the stuff which composed his body, that
at the period when it had reached its highest perfection, so enormous
was his size, that he weighed nearly as much as the far-famed Franz
Finatzie of Presburg, and his corpulence was only a few inches less than
that of the well-fed Holstener, known by the name of Paul Butterbread,
who formerly exhibited himself as a show to Parisian belles. However,
Baron _Sieg_ mund was a very stately man till this period, when his
body resembled a tun; he lived well, and though he did not waste the
inheritance of his fathers, he spared himself none of the enjoyments
of life. No sooner had his progenitors made way for him, and he found
himself in possession of Lauenstein, than, after the manner of his
fathers, he married, and at the end of a year, he became a father; but,
alas! it was of a girl, and as he had no hopes of succeeding children,
with this he was forced to be content. The thrifty mother, who at
her marriage took charge of the domestic concerns, now commenced the
education of her daughter. The more papa’s paunch gained the upper hand,
the more obtuse became his mind, till at length the Baron took no notice
of anything, except what was either roasted or boiled.
From the accumulation of family affairs, Fraulein Emily was, for the
most part, left to the care of mother Nature, and thereby found herself
never the worse. This secret artist, who does not like to put her
reputation at stake, and generally makes up by a master-stroke, for any
error she commits, had better proportioned the body and talents of the
daughter than those of the father--she was beautiful, clever, and witty.
As the charms of the young Fraulein expanded, the views of the mother
increased, and she resolved, that through her the splendour of their
expiring race should again be restored. The lady possessed a secret
pride which was not remarked in the common occurrences of life, except
in regard to her pedigree, which she considered the most glorious
ornament of their house; and so high were her pretensions, that,
except the family of the Counts of Reiuss, there was no race in
Hungary sufficiently ancient and noble, into which she would choose
to transplant the last blossom of the Lauenstein stem. And much as the
young gentlemen in the neighbourhood wished to secure the rich prize,
the crafty mother always contrived to frustrate their intentions. She
watched the heart of the Fraulein with as much care as a customhouse
officer does the harbour, lest any contraband goods should slip through;
overturned every speculation of match-making aunts and cousins; and had
such high expectations for her daughter, that no young man ventured to
approach her. As long as the heart of a maiden listens to advice, it
resembles a boat upon the calm unruffled sea, which sails wherever the
rudder directs it; but when the winds and waves arise and rock the
light bark, it no longer obeys the helm, but follows the current of the
stream.
So it was with the tractable Emily, who willingly allowed herself to
be led on in the path of pride by the maternal leading-strings, for her
still unsophisticated heart was susceptible of every impression. She
at least expected a Prince or Count to do homage to her charms; and any
less high born paladins who paid their court to her, were repulsed
with cold disdain. But before a suitable adorer could be found for the
Lauenstein Grace, a circumstance occurred which disappointed all the
matrimonial schemes of the mother; and such were its effects, that, had
all the princes and counts of the Roman and German empire sued for the
heart and hand of the fair Fraulein, they would have found themselves
too late.
In the troubled times of the thirty years’ war, the army of the braye
Wallenstein came into Hungary for winter quarters, and Baron Siegmund
received many uninvited guests into the castle, who did more mischief
than the former hobgoblins; for, although they had even less right to
the property than the former, no sorcerer could exorcise them away. The
proprietor saw himself forced to put a good face on this wicked game,
for the purpose of keeping these commanding gentlemen in good humour,
and so induce them to keep up proper discipline in the castle. Banquets
and balls succeeded each other without intermission; at the first the
lady presided, at the latter the daughter. And whenever the military
band began to play the accompanying favourite waltz, it was the signal
for the gallant Fritz to lead the fair Emily to the dance These splendid
feasts made the rough warriors more pliant: they respected the house
which had so hospitably entertained them, and guests and host were
satisfied with each other.
Among these warriors there were many young heroes, who might even have
tempted limping Vulcan’s beautiful helpmate to become unfaithful. But
there was one in particular who eclipsed them all. A young officer,
called the handsome Fritz, had the appearance of a helmed god of
love. To an elegant figure, this young Apollo joined the most engaging
manners; he was gentle, modest, agreeable, of a lively disposition and,
above all, a charming dancer. Until this moment no one had made the
slightest impression on the heart of Emily, but this youth raised in her
innocent bosom a new sensation, which filled her soul with inexpressible
delight.
But the wonder was, that this enchanting Adonis was neither called the
handsome Count, nor the handsome Prince, but neither more nor less than
the handsome Fritz. She interrogated his brother officers, one after
another, about the young man’s name and descent, but no one could
enlighten her upon the subject. All praised the handsome Fritz as
a brave man, and a good officer, and who possessed the most amiable
character, but at the same time it appeared that all was not right in
regard to his pedigree. There were as many reports of his birth as
of that of the well known and enigmatical Count Cagliostro, who was
sometimes said to be the descendant of the Grand Master of Malta, and by
the maternal side, nephew to the Grand Seignior; sometimes the son of a
Neapolitan coachman, then a full brother of Zannowichs, pretended Prince
of Albania, and by profession a worker of miracles; and then it was
rumoured that he was a wig-maker. All these reports arose from the
handsome Fritz having raised himself from the pike to the sash, and
all agreed, that, should fortune again favour him, he would reach the
highest situations in the army. The secret inquiries of the inquisitive
Emily were not long concealed from the object of them. His companions
thought to flatter him with the intelligence, and generally accompanied
it with all sorts of favourable conjectures. His modesty attributed her
advances to jest and mockery; nevertheless, the inquiries of the young
damsel pleased him well, for the first look had inspired him with an
ecstasy, which is the usual harbinger of love.
No language possesses such energy, and is likewise so well understood,
as the sweet feeling of sympathy; through the operation of which, a
first acquaintance sooner rises into love than one can rise from the
pike to the sash.
Some time elapsed before the lovers came to a verbal explanation, but
they were aware of each other’s sentiments, their looks met half-way,
and said what timid love dared not disclose. From the uproar in the
house, the negligent mother had, at a very wrong season, removed the
watch over the heart of her beloved daughter; and seeing this important
post unoccupied, the crafty smuggler, Love, seized his opportunity, and
secretly stole in. No sooner had he obtained possession, than he taught
the Fraulein quite a different lesson from mamma. The sworn enemy of all
ceremony, he immediately removed the prejudices of his obedient scholar,
and soon taught her to think, that birth and rank were not to be put
in competition with all-conquering Love, and that lovers should not be
classed, like beetles and worms, in a collection of insects.
The frosty pride of ancestry melted as quickly in her soul as the
figures upon a frozen window dissolve when the rays of the sun begin to
warm the atmosphere; till at length Emily cared not whether her lover
had pedigree or not, and she even carried her political heresy so far
as to maintain, that the prerogatives of high birth, in comparison with
love, were the most insufferable yoke with which the freedom of mankind
had ever been burthened.
The handsome Fritz, who adored the Fraulein, with joy perceived that his
fortune in love was as propitious as his fortune in war. He seized
the first opportunity which offered of disclosing the situation of
his heart. She received his declaration with blushes, but with inward
delight, and the lovers exchanged vows of inviolable fidelity. They
enjoyed the present moment, but shuddered at the future. The return
of spring again called the army into tents, and the sorrowful moment
approached which was to separate the lovers. They now held a serious
consultation on ratifying their vows of love, so as that nothing but
death could part them. The Fraulein acquainted her lover with the
sentiments of her mother on the subject of marriage; and that it was not
to be expected that the proud lady would deviate one hair’s-breadth from
her darling system, to sanction a union of affection.
A hundred plans were adopted and rejected, for with each there was
always some difficulty in the way which rendered its success doubtful.
Meanwhile the young hero found his betrothed determined to take any
course which would accomplish their wishes; upon which he proposed an
elopement, as the surest way which love had yet thought of, which has
succeeded innumerable times, and which will succeed in destroying the
plans of parents, and in vanquishing their obstinacy. Emily considered
for a little, and then consented; one thing was still to be considered,
how she would escape from the walls and bulwarks of the castle, to
throw herself into the arms of the welcome robber; for well she knew
the moment that the Wallenstein garrison marched out of the castle, the
vigilant mother would again take possession of her post, and her steps
would be so watched she would never be allowed to go out of her sight.
But inventive Love conquers every difficulty. It was well known to
the Fraulein, that, according to tradition, on All-soul’s Day, in the
approaching autumn, the Spectre Nun, after a lapse of seven years, would
again revisit the castle. The terror of the inmates at the expectation
of her appearance was also well known to her; she therefore determined
upon the bold freak of playing the nun’s part. Accordingly she secretly
prepared a nun’s dress, and under this disguise resolved to elope.
The handsome Fritz was delighted with this invention, and although the
time of the thirty years’ war was too early for freethinking, yet the
young officer was enough of a philosopher to doubt the existence of
spirits, or at least to trouble himself very little about the matter.
Their plans being thus arranged, Fritz threw himself into his saddle,
and, commending himself to the protection of Love, departed at the
head of his squadron. It appeared that Love had heard his prayer, for,
although he exposed himself to all dangers, the campaign terminated most
prosperously, and he escaped unhurt. Meanwhile Emily lived between hope
and fear; she trembled for the life of her faithful Amadis--she sought
diligently to obtain intelligence how it went with them in the field.
Every new rumour of a skirmish put her in terror and anxiety, which her
mother took for the sign of a feeling heart, without its creating any
suspicion. The hero let no opportunity slip of privately corresponding
with his beloved, and through the channel of a trusty waiting-maid, he
from time to time gave her intelligence of his fate, and through the
same messenger received accounts from her. As soon as the campaign was
ended, he prepared every thing for his secret expedition, bought four
steeds and a travelling carriage, and looked carefully in the Calendar
for the day on which he was to be at the appointed place of meeting,
in the little grove, not far from the castle. On All-soul’s Day, Emily,
with the assistance of her attendant, prepared to carry her plan
into execution. As had been agreed upon, she feigned herself a little
indisposed, and retired early to her apartment, where she immediately
transformed herself into the prettiest hobgoblin that had ever haunted
the earth. The evening hours, by Emily’s calculation, seemed to have
doubled themselves, and, as she thought of the work she had in hand,
every moment increased her wish to accomplish her adventure. Meanwhile
the pale Luna, the secret friend of lovers, with her soft glimmer, shone
on the castle of Lauenstein, in which the tumult of the busy day was by
degrees lost in the solemn stillness of the night. None were awake in
the castle but the housekeeper, who sat late in the night calculating
the expenses of the kitchen--the capon-stuffer, who was plucking for the
breakfast of the household a score of larks--the porter, who had also
the office of watchman, and called out the hours, and Hector, the
vigilant house-dog, who with his howls bayed the rising moon.
As the midnight hour sounded, the intrepid Emily set out upon her way.
She had provided herself with a master-key which opened all the doors.
Softly and secretly she descended the steps that led through the
cloister, in crossing which she observed there was still a light in the
kitchen. Upon this she rattled her bunch of keys with all her might,
dashed to the doors with a deafening noise, and boldly opened the
house-door and the wicket without accident. As soon as the four waking
inmates of the castle heard this unusual noise, they looked for the
appearance of the roving Nun. The capon-stuffer, terrified, fled into a
closet; the housekeeper into bed; the watchdog into his kennel; and the
porter into the straw beside his wife. The Fraulein soon arrived in the
open field, and hastened to the grove, where she thought she saw at a
distance the carriage and fleet horses waiting her appearance. But on
a nearer approach she discovered it was only the deceitful shadow of a
tree. From this she concluded she had mistaken the place of appointment.
She crossed and recrossed the shrubbery from one end to another, but her
knight, with his equipage, was nowhere to be found. Astonished at this
circumstance, she knew not what to think.
After an appointed rendezvous, not to appear, is considered among lovers
a high misdemeanour, but in the present case to fail, was little less
than high treason against Love; the thing was to her incomprehensible.
After having waited, but in vain, for an hour long, and her heart
trembling from anxiety and cold, she began to wail and weep. “Ah! the
perfidious one,” she exclaimed, “he lies in the arms of some coquette,
from whom he cannot tear himself away; he mocks me, and has forgot my
true-love.”
This thought suddenly brought the long-forgotten pedigree to her
recollection, and she felt ashamed of having so far demeaned herself as
to love a man without a name, or noble feeling. In this moment when the
intoxication of passion had somewhat subsided, and reason had resumed
her sway, this faithful counsellor advised her to re deem this false
step, by immediately returning to the castle, and trying to forget the
false perjurer. The first she did, without delay; and, to the great
surprise of her faithful confidant, to whom she revealed every thing,
she reached her chamber safe and sound; but the second point she
resolved to reflect upon at leisure.
Nevertheless, the man without a name, was not so much to blame as the
enraged Emily supposed. He had not failed to be punctual at the place of
meeting. With a heart full of rapture, he waited with impatience for the
moment which was to put him in possession of his lovely treasure. As
the midnight hour approached, he secretly hastened to the castle,
and listened when the little gate would open. Sooner than he supposed
possible, the beloved figure of the nun stepped out. He immediately
rushed from his concealment towards her, seized her in his arms,
exclaiming, “I have thee--I hold thee. Never shall I leave thee. Dear
love, thou art mine--I am thine, with body and soul.” Joyfully he bore
his lovely burden to the carriage, and soon they rattled over stocks and
stones, up hills and down vallies. The horses plunged and snorted, shook
their manes, and became so wild and unmanageable, that they would
no longer obey the reins. A wheel flew off, and the sudden shock
precipitated the coachmen to the ground; and carriage and horses, and
man and mouse, all rolled over a steep abyss into a gulf below. The fond
lover knew not what had happened; his body was bruised, his head was
crushed, and, from the severity of the fall, he lost all recollection;
but when he came to himself, he missed his beloved companion. After
spending the rest of the night in this helpless situation, he was found
by some peasants in the morning, who carried him to the nearest village.
The carriage was dashed to pieces, the four horses had broken their
necks. This loss, however, grieved him little; but the fate of the
beautiful Emily plunged him in the greatest distress. He despatched
people in every direction to try and gain some tidings of her; but they
all returned as they went, nothing was to be heard of the runaway. The
midnight hour was the first thing which cleared up this mystery. As the
clock struck twelve, the door opened, and his lost travelling companion
stepped into the apartment, not however in the form of the beautiful
Emily, but of the Spectre Nun, a hideous skeleton. The handsome Fritz,
with horror, perceived that he himself had made this dreadful mistake.
Death-cold perspirations burst over him; he began to cross and bless
himself, and ejaculate every prayer he could think of.
The nun little heeded this; she stepped up to the bed, stroked his
burning cheeks with her withered ice-cold hand, and said, “Fritz, Fritz,
be resigned to it I am thine--thou art mine, with body and soul” She
thus continued to torture him with her presence for an hour, and then
vanished. This game she acted every night, and she even followed him
into the place where his regiment was quartered. He had neither peace
nor repose from the love of this hobgoblin, which so grieved and fretted
him, that he lost all spirit; so much so, that his companions began to
remark his deep melancholy; and these gallant officers truly sympathized
with his distress. They could not imagine what had happened to their
former lively associate, for he carefully shunned the horrible secret,
which he divulged to no one.
Among his companions, Fritz had one very intimate friend, whom rumour
reported master of all magical arts, and who possessed the lost art of
making himself invulnerable, could call up spirits, and had every day a
free shot. This experienced warrior, with affectionate impatience, urged
his friend to disclose the secret grief which so evidently oppressed
him. This martyr of love, who was sick of his existence, at length,
under the seal of secrecy, was prevailed on to divulge it. “Brother, is
this all?” said the exorcist, with a smile; “I shall soon release you
from this torment.--Follow me into my quarters.” He began by making
secret preparations, drew several circles and characters upon the floor,
and, at the summons of the exorcist, in a dark chamber which was lighted
only by a magician’s lamp, the midnight guest for this time appeared
at the mid-day hour. He scolded her very much, and banished her and her
mischievous pranks to a hollow willow in a lonely valley, with strict
commands at that very hour to set out to this Patmos.
The spectre vanished, but at the same moment there arose such a storm
and whirlwind, as set the whole town in commotion. It was an old pious
custom when a high wind blew, that twelve deputed citizens should
instantly take horse, and make a solemn pilgrimage through the streets,
chanting a song of repentance to sing the wind away. As soon as the
twelve booted and well-mounted apostles had rode out, the howling voice
of the hurricane ceased, and the spirit never again appeared. * Fritz
now perceived that this devilish ape’s play was intended to entrap his
poor soul, and was rejoiced that the tormenting spirit had left him. He
again prepared to join the formidable Wallenstein in Pomerania, where he
finished three campaigns without hearing anything of the lovely Emily,
and behaved with such bravery, that on his return to Bohemia, he
commanded a regiment of horse. He took his way through Hungary, and when
he came in sight of the Castle of Lauenstein, his heart began to beat
with anxiety and doubt lest, in his absence, his beloved had been
forgetful of him. He merely announced himself as a friend of the family,
and, according to the rites of hospitality, gates and doors were soon
thrown open to him. We may mention here, that it is still the custom
in this town for this wind-laying cavalcade to perambulate the streets
during a storm.
Ah! how astonished was the lovely Emily, when her supposed faithless
lover, the handsome Fritz, stepped into the apartment! Joy and anger
by turns assailed her soul. She could not resolve to vouchsafe him one
friendly look, and yet this league with her beautiful eyes cost her the
greatest difficulty.
For three long years she had debated with herself whether she would
forget, or not, her nameless, and, as she believed, faithless lover, and
therefore he was never one moment from her thoughts. His image floated
continually before her; and, besides, it appeared that the God of Dreams
was his patron, for the innumerable dreams that the Fraulein had of
him ever since his absence, either excused or defended him. The stately
Colonel, whose high rank the harsh survey of the mother somewhat
softened, soon found an opportunity to try the apparent coldness of his
beloved. He related to her the horrible adventure of the Elopement,
and she frankly acknowledged to him the pain the thoughts of his
faithlessness had given her. The lovers now agreed to reveal their
secret to mamma, and endeavour to prevail with her to favour their
attachment.
The good lady was as much astonished at the secret attachment of the
cunning Emily, as at the communication of the _species facti_ of the
Elopement. She thought it just that love, which had stood so severe a
trial, should be rewarded. It was only the man without a name that was
offensive to her; and as the Fraulein observed, that it was incomparably
more sensible to marry a man without a name, than a name without a man,
against this argument she had nothing to reply.
They were married, and as the secret treaty had already prospered, and
no Count lay at the bottom of her heart, the good dame gave her maternal
consent to it. The handsome Fritz embraced his lovely bride, and
quietly and happily accomplished his marriage, without the slightest
interruption on the part of the Spectre Nun.
[ODD VOLUME.]
[Illustration: 233]