VAMPIRISM IN GERMANY AND SURROUNDING COUNTRIES
Germany, the home of modern philosophy, is not free from the belief
in the reality of the vampire apparition, although the more horrible
forms of the superstition are not frequently encountered. Crosses are,
however, frequently erected at the head, or by the side, of graves, even
in Protestant cemeteries, in order that their presence may prevent the
occupants from being controlled by any demon that might, but for the
presence of such charm, take possession of a body; and the _Nachzehrer_
is as much dreaded in many parts of Germany as the _Vrykolaka_ is in
Russia. In some parts of the Kaiser’s dominions, food is still buried
with the corpse in order to assuage any pangs of hunger that may arise;
and even when this is not done, a few grains of corn or rice are
scattered upon the grave as a survival of the ancient custom. In Diesdorf
it is believed that if money is not placed in the mouth of a dead
person at burial, or his name not cut from his shirt, he will, in all
probability, become a Nachzehrer, and his ghost issue from the grave in
the form of a pig. Another sure preventive of such a calamity is to break
the neck of a dead body.
The following story was contributed by Dr Franz Hartmann to the _Occult
Review_ for September 1909, under the title of “An Authenticated Vampire
Story”:—
“On June 10th, 1909, there appeared in a prominent Vienna paper (the
_Neues Wiener Journal_) a notice saying that the castle of B—— had been
burned by the populace, because there was a great mortality among the
peasant children, and it was generally believed that this was due to the
invasion of a vampire, supposed to be the last Count B——, who died and
acquired that reputation. The castle was situated in a wild and desolate
part of the Carpathian Mountains, and was formerly a fortification
against the Turks. It was not inhabited, owing to its being believed to
be in the possession of ghosts; only a wing of it was used as a dwelling
for the caretaker and his wife.
“Now it so happened that, when I read the above notice, I was sitting
in a coffee-house at Vienna in company with an old friend of mine who
is an experienced occultist and editor of a well-known journal, and who
had spent several months in the neighbourhood of the castle. From him
I obtained the following account, and it appears that the vampire in
question was probably not the old Count, but his beautiful daughter, the
Countess Elga, whose photograph, taken from the original painting, I
obtained. My friend said: ‘Two years ago I was living at Hermannstadt,
and being engaged in engineering a road through the hills, I often came
within the vicinity of the old castle, where I made the acquaintance of
the old castellan, or caretaker, and his wife, who occupied a part of the
wing of the house, almost separate from the main body of the building.
They were a quiet old couple and rather reticent in giving information
or expressing an opinion in regard to the strange noises which were
often heard at night in the deserted halls, or of the apparitions which
the Wallachian peasants claimed to have seen when they loitered in the
surroundings after dark. All I could gather was that the old Count was a
widower and had a beautiful daughter, who was one day killed by a fall
from her horse, and that soon after the old man died in some mysterious
manner, and the bodies were buried in a solitary graveyard belonging to
a neighbouring village. Not long after their death an unusual mortality
was noticed among the inhabitants of the village: several children and
even some grown people died without any apparent illness; they merely
wasted away; and thus a rumour was started that the old Count had become
a vampire after his death. There is no doubt that he was not a saint, as
he was addicted to drinking, and some shocking tales were in circulation
about his conduct and that of his daughter; but whether there was any
truth in them, I am not in a position to say.
“‘Afterwards the property came into the possession of ——, a distant
relative of the family, who is a young man and officer in a cavalry
regiment at Vienna. It appears that the heir enjoyed his life at the
capital and did not trouble himself much about the old castle in the
wilderness; he did not even come to look at it, but gave his directions
by letter to the janitor, telling him merely to keep things in order
and to attend to repairs, if any were necessary. Thus the castellan was
actually master of the house, and offered its hospitality to me and my
friends.
“One evening I and my two assistants, Dr E——, a young lawyer, and Mr
W——, a literary man, went to inspect the premises. First we went to the
stables. There were no horses, as they had been sold; but what attracted
our special attention was an old, queer-fashioned coach with gilded
ornaments and bearing the emblems of the family. We then inspected the
rooms, passing through some halls and gloomy corridors, such as may
be found in any old castle. There was nothing remarkable about the
furniture; but in one of the halls there hung in a frame an oil-painting,
a portrait, representing a lady with a large hat and wearing a fur coat.
We were all involuntarily startled on beholding this picture—not so much
on account of the beauty of the lady, but on account of the uncanny
expression of her eyes; and Dr E——, after looking at the picture for a
short time, suddenly exclaimed: ‘How strange! The picture closes its eyes
and opens them again, and now it begins to smile!’
“Now Dr E—— is a very sensitive person, and has more than once had some
experience in spiritism, and we made up our minds to form a circle for
the purpose of investigating this phenomenon. Accordingly, on the same
evening we sat around a table in an adjoining room, forming a magnetic
chain with our hands. Soon the table began to move and the name _Elga_
was spelled. We asked who this Elga was, and the answer was rapped out:
‘The lady whose picture you have seen.’
“‘Is the lady living?’ asked Mr W——. This question was not answered;
but instead it was rapped out: ‘If W—— desires it, I will appear to him
bodily to-night at two o’clock.’ W—— consented, and now the table seemed
to be endowed with life and manifested a great affection for W——; it rose
on two legs and pressed against his breast, as if it intended to embrace
him.
“We inquired of the castellan whom the picture represented; but to our
surprise he did not know. He said that it was the copy of a picture
painted by the celebrated painter Hans Markart of Vienna, and had been
bought by the old Count because its demoniacal look pleased him so much.
“We left the castle, and W—— retired to his room at an inn a half-hour’s
journey distant from that place. He was of a somewhat sceptical turn of
mind, being neither a firm believer in ghosts and apparitions nor ready
to deny their possibility. He was not afraid, but anxious to see what
would come of his agreement, and for the purpose of keeping himself awake
he sat down and began to write an article for a journal.
“Towards two o’clock he heard steps on the stairs and the door of the
hall opened; there was the rustling of a silk dress and the sound of the
feet of a lady walking to and fro in the corridor.
“It may be imagined that he was somewhat startled; but taking courage,
he said to himself: ‘If this is Elga, let her come in.’ Then the door
of the room opened and Elga entered. She was most elegantly dressed,
and appeared still more youthful and seductive than the picture. There
was a lounge on the other side of the table where W—— was writing, and
there she silently posted herself. She did not speak, but her looks and
gestures left no doubt in regard to her desires and intentions.
“Mr W—— resisted the temptation and remained firm. It is not known
whether he did so out of principle or timidity or fear. Be this as it
may, he kept on writing, looking from time to time at his visitor and
silently wishing that she would leave. At last, after half an hour, which
seemed to him much longer, the lady departed in the same manner in which
she came.
“This adventure left W—— no peace, and we consequently arranged several
sittings at the old castle, where a variety of uncanny phenomena took
place. Thus, for instance, once the servant-girl was about to light a
fire in the stove, when the door of the apartment opened and Elga stood
there. The girl, frightened out of her wits, rushed from the room,
tumbling down the stairs in terror with the lamp in her hand, which
broke, and came very near to setting her clothes on fire. Lighted lamps
and candles went out when brought near the picture, and many other
‘manifestations’ took place which it would be tedious to describe; but
the following incident ought not to be omitted.
“Mr W—— was at that time desirous of obtaining the position as co-editor
of a certain journal, and a few days after the above-narrated adventure
he received a letter in which a noble lady of high position offered him
her patronage for that purpose. The writer requested him to come to a
certain place the same evening, where he would meet a gentleman who
would give him further particulars. He went, and was met by an unknown
stranger, who told him that he was requested by the Countess Elga to
invite Mr W—— to a carriage drive, and that she would await him at
midnight at a certain crossing of two roads, not far from the village.
The stranger then suddenly disappeared.
“Now it seems that Mr W—— had some misgivings about the meeting and
drive, and he hired a policeman as detective to go at midnight to the
appointed place, to see what would happen. The policeman went and
reported next morning that he had seen nothing but the well-known,
old-fashioned carriage from the castle, with two black horses, standing
there as if waiting for somebody, and that as he had no occasion to
interfere, he merely waited until the carriage moved on. When the
castellan of the castle was asked, he swore that the carriage had not
been out that night, and in fact it could not have been out, as there
were no horses to draw it.
“But that is not all, for on the following day I met a friend who is a
great sceptic and disbeliever in ghosts, and always used to laugh at such
things. Now, however, he seemed to be very serious and said: ‘Last night
something very strange happened to me. At about one o’clock this morning
I returned from a late visit, and as I happened to pass the graveyard
of the village, I saw a carriage with gilded ornaments standing at the
entrance. I wondered about this taking place at such an unusual hour,
and being curious to see what would happen, I waited. Two elegantly
dressed ladies issued from the carriage. One of these was young and
pretty, but threw at me a devilish and scornful look as they both passed
by and entered the cemetery. There they were met by a well-dressed man,
who saluted the ladies and spoke to the younger one, saying: “Why, Miss
Elga! Are you returned so soon?” Such a queer feeling came over me that I
abruptly left and hurried home.’
“This matter has not been explained; but certain experiments which we
subsequently made with the picture of Elga brought out some curious facts.
“To look at the picture for a certain time caused me to feel a very
disagreeable sensation in the region of the solar plexus. I began to
dislike the portrait and proposed to destroy it. We held a sitting in the
adjoining room; the table manifested a great aversion to my presence.
It was rapped out that I should leave the circle, and that the picture
must not be destroyed. I ordered a Bible to be brought in, and read the
beginning of the first chapter of St John, whereupon the above-mentioned
Mr E—— (the medium) and another man present claimed that they saw the
picture distorting its face. I turned the frame and pricked the back of
the picture with my penknife in different places, and Mr E——, as well as
the other man, felt all the pricks, although they had retired to the
corridor.
“I made the sign of the pentagram over the picture, and again the two
gentlemen claimed that the picture was horribly distorting its face.
“Soon afterwards we were called away and left that country. Of Elga I
heard nothing more.”
Thus far goes the account of my friend the editor.
Siegbert’s _Chronicle_ for the year 858 has the following story: “There
appeared this year in the diocese of Mentz a spirit which discovered
himself at first by throwing stones and beating against the walls of
houses, as if it had been with a great mallet. He then proceeded to speak
and reveal secrets, and discovered the authors of several thefts and
other matters likely to breed disturbances in the neighbourhood. At last
he vented his malice upon one particular person, whom he was industrious
in persecuting and making odious to all the neighbours by representing
him as the cause of God’s anger against the whole village. The spirit
never forsook the poor man, but tormented him without intermission,
burnt all his corn in the barns, and set every place on fire where he
came. The priests attempted to frighten him away by exorcisms, prayers,
and holy water; but the spectre answered them with a volley of stones
which wounded several of them. When the priests were gone he was heard to
bemoan himself and say that he was forced to take refuge in the cowl of
one of the priests, who had injured the daughter of a man of consequence
in the village. He continued in this manner to infest the village for
three years together, and never gave over till he had set every house in
it on fire.”