KRONSTADT.
It needed the sight of beautiful Kronstadt to efface the impression
of this ghastly picture—beautiful, indeed, as it clings to the steep
mountain-side, looking as though the picturesque houses and turrets had
been carved out of the rocks which tower above them.
At Hermanstadt the view of the mountain-chain is grander and more
sublime, but Kronstadt has the advantage of being in itself part and
portion of the mountain scenery, the fashionable promenade winding in
serpentine curves up the Kapellen Berg to the back of the town, being
but the beginning of an ascent which, if pursued, will lead us to a
height of wellnigh seven thousand feet.
Without, however, going any such desperate distance, merely from the
top of the Kapellen Berg or Zinne (thirteen hundred feet above the
town), to be reached without perceptible effort, we can enjoy one of
the finest views to be seen throughout Transylvania, offering as it
does a singularly harmonious blending of wild, uncultured nature and
rich pastoral scenery.
Not far below the highest point of the Kapellen Berg is a small cave
which goes by the name of the Nonnenloch (nun’s hole). A hermit is said
to have lived here for many years; but it is more celebrated as having
been the haunt of a monstrous serpent, which hence used to pounce down
upon inadvertent wanderers. On one occasion it is said to have carried
off and devoured a student who was reading near the town-wall; but
tormented by thirst after this plentiful repast, the monster drank
water till it burst. The portrait of this gigantic snake may still be
seen painted on the old town-wall near the barracks.
There is another legend relating to the Kronstadt Kapellen Berg, which,
though somewhat lengthy, is too graceful to be refused a place here:
“Many, many years ago there lived at the Kronstadt gymnasium a student
who was uncommon wise and God-fearing, and who could preach so well
that it often happened that he was delegated by any one of the town
clergymen, when indisposed with a cold or toothache, to preach in his
stead. And this the student did right willingly; for he received for
each sermon half a Hungarian florin, which was good pay for those
times. But still more for the honor and glory did he like to do it; and
the most praiseworthy thing about it was, that he did not copy out his
sermons from a book, but that he composed them unaided out of his own
mind and learned them by rote; and as, moreover, he had a fine manner
of delivery, it was a pleasure to listen to him. Whenever he had to
learn a sermon by heart, it was his custom to seek out solitary places
where he might be undisturbed, but his favorite haunt used to be the
steep, wooded hill behind the town.
“Thus one day, having to learn a sermon to be preached on the morrow
at the Johannis Kirche (the present Catholic Franciscan church), our
student as usual repaired to his favorite haunt. He had just finished
his self-allotted task, and was preparing to go home, when he espied a
beautiful bird, which, hopping about on an overhanging branch, seemed
to be intently gazing at him. The student approached the bird, but when
he had reached it so close as almost to touch it with his hand, it flew
off some paces farther up the hill, alighting on another branch and
gazing on him as before. Again he followed the bird, which, repeating
its former manœuvre, led him on by degrees almost to the top of the
hill to the spot now known as the Nonnenloch. Here the bird disappeared
into a thicket, still followed by the student, who, bending aside the
branches, saw a broad cleft in the rock, wide enough to admit a man’s
body. He could still descry the bird, which, flying in through the
opening, was soon lost to sight in the cavernous depths within.
“Wonderingly he entered the cave and penetrated a considerable way
into the mountain, not understanding, however, how it was that, though
so far removed from the light of day, he was yet perfectly able to
distinguish his surroundings as in a sort of twilight. Suddenly at the
end of the cave, which had now contracted to a narrow passage, he was
confronted by the figure of a dwarf with pale face and long gray beard,
who cried in a deep, angry voice, ‘Who art thou? and what seekest thou
here?’
“The student felt sorely afraid, but took heart, seeing that his
conscience was clear and he had done no harm; so he related to the
dwarf how, having come hither to learn his sermon, which by the help
of God he hoped to preach next day in the Johannis Kirche, he had been
led by the bird ever up the hill and deeper into the forest, till he
reached this cave.
“At the very first word the manikin’s face grew mild and benevolent.
‘So thou art he?’ he said, in a gentle voice, when the other had
finished speaking. ‘Often have I listened to thee reciting thy sermons
down in the forest, and have been rejoiced and edified by the beautiful
words. I am the _berg-geist_ (mountain-spirit), and the bird which
enticed thee hither is in my service, and did so by my order, for I
wished to know thee. Thou shalt not repent having come hither, for I
will show thee what no mortal eye has seen.’
“At a sign from the dwarf an invisible door at the extremity of the
cave flew open, and following his guide, the student gazed about him
in speechless wonder. He now found himself in a vault far wider and
loftier than the church nave, and though there were here neither
windows nor torches, the whole building was pervaded by a rosy,
transparent twilight. What a gorgeous and splendid sight now met his
eyes! The arches on which the vault rested were of massive silver,
and of silver, too, the pillars which supported them. The ribs of
the arches were of gold, as likewise the ornaments on the columns.
Moreover, these columns were encircled by flower-garlands composed of
many-colored precious stones—diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires,
and topazes; while hundreds more of the same stones lay strewn about on
the ground. How all this glittered and sparkled before the eyes of the
wondering student!
“‘See,’ spoke the dwarf, ‘this is a workshop, and there are many more
such in the heart of the mountains, where, out of gold, silver, and
precious stones, we spirits fashion the flowers that deck the surface
of the earth. You foolish mortals no doubt believe the flowers to
sprout of themselves in spring to enamel meadow and forest in blue,
red, and yellow tints. But learn that this is the work of us, the
mountain-spirits, who by order of the Creator wander over the surface
of the earth, unseen by men, sowing broadcast the mountain treasures
which glitter in the sunshine in manifold shapes and colors. And in
autumn, when the flowers wither, we go forth again to gather in the
gems we have strewn, and hide them in rocky strongholds till spring
comes round again. Thus do we strive to rejoice the hearts of men
by letting their eyes feast on the works of the Creator. But,’ he
continued, laughing maliciously, ‘we feel but contempt and derision
for such foolish mortals as, having become possessed of some stray
grains of our flower-seed, which they have perchance discovered in a
torrent-bed or rocky fissure, set great store on their possession,
decking themselves out with it as though each simple field-flower were
not more beautiful by far than the gem from which it has sprung.’
“The words of the mountain-spirit well pleased the student, and he
thought of the text of the sermon he was about to preach on the morrow,
treating of the lilies of the field, which neither toil nor spin, and
are yet more gorgeous than Solomon in all his glory. But at the same
time there went through his brain other thoughts of less lofty nature.
To a poor devil such as he a pocketful of these glittering stones would
be a most acceptable present—sufficient probably to relieve him of
all material anxiety, and enable him to go to Germany to finish his
studies. Vainly he hoped that the gray-bearded dwarf might tender some
such gift, but to his discomfiture the berg-geist betrayed no such
intention.
“Something more than an hour the student spent in contemplation of the
riches of the cavern; then he bethought himself of home, and begged the
dwarf to let him out.
“‘The little bird,’ spoke the spirit, ‘which brought thee hither will
conduct thee back through the cleft.’ But as they neared the entrance
of the vault the student made a feint of stumbling, and as he did
so, surreptitiously caught up a handful of gems, which he secreted
in the pocket of his dolman. The old dwarf said nothing, but smiled
sarcastically, and the student deemed his manœuvre to have passed
unnoticed.
“Suddenly the dwarf had disappeared, and the student found himself
again in the cleft of rock where an hour previously the bird had lured
him; and here, too, the bird itself was waiting for him, and, hopping
cheerfully in front, soon conducted him back to the light of day,
whereupon it disappeared into the bushes.
“Our student felt heartily thankful to be delivered from the somewhat
uncanny surroundings, and to see the blue sky and the golden sunshine
once more. But, strange to say, as he pursued his way homeward down the
hill to regain the town by the upper gate, several things struck him as
unknown and unfamiliar. The people he met were not attired according
to the fashion of the day; the path was smoother and better kept;
even the very trees seemed changed, and no more the same he had seen
growing there when he had gone up the hill that morning. He specially
remembered a slender young lime-tree which had been planted only the
spring before; where had it now gone to? and how came there to be an
aged and majestic tree in its place?
“As he entered the town-gate that leads into the _Heilig-leichnams
Gasse_ (Corpus Christi Street), many things likewise appeared strange;
the houses had foreign shapes, and out of their windows there peeped
unknown faces.
“While ruminating over these puzzling facts he bethought himself of
the treasure he carried in his pocket, and his conscience began to
prick him, that he, who until now had been careful to keep the Ten
Commandments, had now made himself guilty of breaking the eighth one.
It seemed to him as though the purloined gems were burning through the
coat into his heart. Thus thinking, he approached the river in order
to ease his conscience by throwing in the stolen property. He put his
hand into his pocket and drew it out full, but before throwing away
the treasure he wished to take a last look at the glittering stones.
But what was this? A handful of coarse gravel was all he held. Some
witchcraft must be here at work; and a cold shudder ran over his frame,
but he was thankful to be rid of the accursed jewels.
“At last he had reached the school, and stepped over the threshold of
the door. Several students met him in the corridors or coming down the
staircase; but he, who knew every one about the place, was surprised to
see naught but strange faces, who stared back at him with astonishment
equal to his own.
“He entered his little bedchamber, but here also all was different:
no press, no table, no chair remained of those he had left there that
morning; the very bed was another one, and the occupants of the room
knew him as little as he knew them.
“This was surely a greater wonder than all that had happened to him
up yonder at the cavern. It needed all his self-control to keep his
faculties together and prevent himself from going mad. And he must keep
his reason; for was he not to preach his sermon next day in the Church
of St. John?
“He fared no better when, hoping to find a way out of his dilemma,
he rushed wildly to the rector’s abode. The voice which responded
‘_Intra_’ to his modest knock was a strange one; and as he, entering,
saw a stranger sitting at the writing-table, he timidly said that he
wished to speak to the _Virum pereximium_. ‘I am he,’ was the answer;
‘who are you, and what seek you here? I am acquainted with all the
students of the gymnasium. How come you to be wearing their dress?’
“Our student now mentioned his name, and related how he had been
delegated by the reverend and worthy minister such-and-such to preach
on the following day; how he had gone out early on to the hill to
learn his sermon by rote, and all that subsequently happened to him.
Everything he related faithfully, excepting the episode regarding the
handful of glittering stones, which he thought better to conceal. Then
he told how on his return he found everything changed as by an evil
charm—how he knew nobody, and was known by none in return.
“When the student had first named himself, and likewise mentioned the
name of the preacher whose place he was to take next day, an expression
of wondering astonishment had dawned on the rector’s face, which grew
more intense as the narrative proceeded. When the student had finished
his story, he turned round hastily and took from the bookcase behind
him an ancient volume in pig-skin binding.
“‘Yes; here it stands in the _Albo studiosæ juventutis gymnasii, anno
Domini 1——_: “On the —— of the month of August did the _Studiosus
Togatus N—— N—— ex ædibus gymnasii_, absent himself from here
and did not again return, which defalcation caused all the greater
consternation as the said _studiosus_ had been delegated to preach
next day, being the fifteenth Sunday after Trinity, in the church of
St. Johannes, and in lieu of the sermon a _lectio biblica_ had to be
held instead.” And this happened,’ wound up the rector, turning to the
student, ‘exactly a hundred years ago to-day.’
“And so it was in truth; the time he had spent in the cave had seemed
but an hour to the young man, and in reality a hundred years had
passed! Everything around him had changed except his own self; for the
years that had fled had left no mark on him, and he looked young and
strong as a youth of scarce twenty years.
“It is easy to conceive how this wonderful story was swiftly spread
throughout the town, and especially what sensation it caused amid the
Kronstadt students, among whom the centenarian youth was now permitted
to resume his place. Then as the mid-day bell had just tolled, and
our student felt a mighty craving of hunger within him (which was
not wonderful, considering that he had fasted for a century), he did
not require much pressing to sit down at the dinner-board with his
companions.
“But oh, wonder of wonders! hardly had he swallowed the first spoonful
of the dish before him, when his whole appearance began to change:
his dark hair turned gradually white, and fell from his head like
snow-flakes; his features shrank perceptibly, and the bloom of his
cheek gave place to an ashy pallor; his eye grew dim; and scarcely had
his comrades, hastening to support his sinking frame, laid him upon a
bed, when with a last deep-drawn breath he expired.
“For some years after this many Kronstadt students used to haunt
the hill along the town, in hopes that the bird might appear and
lead them into the enchanted cavern, secretly resolving well to line
their pockets with the riches it contained—for that the jewels were
subsequently changed to gravel they had not been informed. But though
many have searched for the spot, none ever succeeded in finding it
again, so that by degrees the love of reciting sermons on the mountain
died out, and the whole story lapsed into oblivion. Also, the page
from the _Albo scholastico_ where mention is made of this is said to
be missing, so that now but a few old people are acquainted with this
legend, and fewer still there are who yet believe it.”
Kronstadt, or Brasso, as it is called in Hungarian, lying at a height
of 1900 feet above the sea-level, is of more mixed complexion than
other Transylvanian towns, and is already mentioned in the thirteenth
century as having a mixed population of Saxons, Szeklers, and Wallachs.
Whereas Klausenburg is exclusively a Hungarian, and Hermanstadt a
Saxon city, Kronstadt partakes a little of both characters, and has,
moreover, a dash of Oriental coloring about it. In the streets, besides
the usual contingent of fiery Magyars, stolid Saxons, melancholy
Roumanians, ragged Tziganes, and solemn Armenians, we pass by other
figures, red-fezzed, beturbaned, or long-robed, which, giving to the
population a kaleidoscopic effect, make us feel that we are next door
to the East, and only a few steps removed from such things as camels,
minarets, and harems.
[Illustration: KING MATTHIAS CORVINUS.]
Kronstadt is said to derive its name from a golden crown found
suspended on a broken tree-stump about the year 1204. A fugitive
king—such is one version of the story—had here deposited his
head-gear, no doubt finding it inconvenient when flying through the
forest. On the spot where the royal insignia was found was raised
the present town of Kronstadt, whose arms consist of the image of a
crown suspended on a stump. The tree-stump represents the town, we are
told, its roots the _Burzen_, or _Wurzel_, _land_, while the crown is
figurative of the Hungarian monarch.[78] The original crown is said
to have been long treasured up in the guildhall of Kronstadt, and
jealously guarded by the citizens, who showed it but rarely, and as
special mark of favor to some potentate. An old writer of the year 1605
described this crown as being of gold and decorated with golden plumes,
and mentions that it was Gregory, the despotic king of Mœsia, who,
obliged to withdraw from the siege of Kronstadt, and defeated by the
Turkish pacha Mizetes, laid down his crown on the stump where it was
afterwards found by Kronstadt citizens.
There is another story, which relates that this crown belonged to
Solomon, King of Hungary, who died dethroned in the eleventh century,
and spent his last years living as a hermit in a romantic valley near
Kronstadt which still bears his name. Feeling his death approach,
he concealed his golden crown in a hollow beech-tree, where long
afterwards it was discovered by some shepherds, when the tree, becoming
old and rotten, had fallen to the ground.
The Feast of St. John the Baptist (June 24th) was generally regarded
as the anniversary of the crown-finding, to commemorate which it used
to be customary to hoist up at the end of a high Maypole a crown woven
together of ripe cherries, roses, and rosemary, and adorned with
gingerbread figures and cakes of various sorts. The youth of both sexes
danced round this pole to the sound of music, and whoever succeeded in
scaling the height and carrying off the crown received a handsome prize.
A dilapidated crown carved in the stone façade of an old house in the
_Purzelgasse_ at Kronstadt gives evidence that here King Matthias, once
travelling _incognito_, as was his wont, entered and consumed the
frugal meal of six eggs, leaving behind him on the table-cloth a paper
on which were written the Latin words:
“Hic fuit Matthias rex comedit ova sex.”[79]
The principal church at Kronstadt, dating from the end of the
fourteenth century, contains many objects of interest, besides an
organ which is of European reputation. In the sacristy are preserved
rich old vestments remaining from Catholic times, perfect masterpieces
of elaborate embroidery, such as I have not anywhere seen surpassed.
Sometimes a cope or chasuble is covered with a whole gallery of figures
executed in raised-work, each detail of expression and every fold of
the drapery being rendered in a manner approaching the sculptor’s art.
In the church itself hang some of the most exquisite Turkish carpets
I have ever seen—such tender idyllic blue-green tints, such gloomy
passionate reds, such pensive amber shades, as to render distracted
with envy any amateur of antique fabrics who has the harrowing
disappointment of ascertaining that these masterpieces of the Oriental
loom are not purchasable even for untold sums of heavy gold!
“There was _ein verrückter Engländer_ (a mad Englishman) here some
years ago,” I was told by a church-warden, “who would have given any
price for that pale-blue one up yonder, and he remained here a whole
month merely to be able to see it every day; but he had to go away
empty-handed at last, for these carpets, like the vestments, are the
property of the Church, and not even the bishop himself has power to
dispose of them.”
FOOTNOTES:
[78] According to others, the name of Kronstadt would be derived
from the _Kronenbeeren_ (cranberries) which grow profusely on the
surrounding hills.
[79] It is of this monarch that the people still say, “King Matthias is
dead, and Justice along with him.” He was, in fact, a sort of Hungarian
Haroun-al-Raschid, going about in disguise among his people, rewarding
them according to their deserts.