It was at Cologne in the year 1248 on the eve of the Ascension day of
our Lord.
Before the mighty Archbishop Kunrad of Hochstaden stood a simple
architect offering the plan of a church, and arrogantly boasting that
it would become one of the most beautiful cathedrals in Christendom.
That man was Master Gerhard of Ryle.
The Archbishop was greatly astonished at the grandeur of the design,
and ordered the execution of the bold plan without delay.
On the square which was selected for the erection of the new
cathedral, another church had once been standing under the reign of
the first king of the Franks, but it had been destroyed by the
Normans.
Now again gigantic masonry, slender pillars, bold vaults and arches
rose to unite into a proud dome.
Everybody admired the humble man, whose creative genius now employed
thousands of industrious workmen, and Master Gerhard's name was
mentioned with great praise at home and abroad.
When the choir was finished, crowds of pious pilgrims came from the
surrounding suburbs and even from a distance to pray before the
relics of the three holy kings which where enshrined there. Hymns of
praise re-echoed through the unfinished aisles.
Everybody rejoiced. But he, who ought to have been the most glad, was
sad, and dark forebodings damped his spirits. The question if after
all he would live to see his proud building finished, or if cruel fate
would tear him away before he should have tasted the sweetness of
triumph, tormented him day and night. His young wife saw with grief
the change in his disposition; but she tried in vain by tender words
and caresses to smooth his sorrowful brow.
The more he was troubled by his gloomy thoughts, the more he urged his
workmen on.--Four years had elapsed; it was now 1252. The tower on the
north side rose already proudly into the air. The scaffolding reached
higher and higher every day.
One day Master Gerhard stood beside the big crane, watching how the
gigantic blocks of stone taken from the quarries at the Drachenfels,
were lifted up. He thought with pride and satisfaction that his work
was going on well; and that he surely would see it finished. While
thus meditating he did not observe that a stranger stood by his side
watching him with an ugly sneer. A burning red cloak hung round his
tall figure, a gold chain glittered on his breast, and a cock's
feather nodded from a quaint velvet cap. He introduced himself to the
somewhat surprised builder as a fellow-architect. "You are building a
lovely church," he then said, "but I created a far more magnificent
mansion, long long years ago. Its stone will never crumble to dust,
and it will resist the influence of time and weather forever." In
saying this, his eyes glittered strangely under his shaggy brows. This
presumptuous speech did not please Master Gerhard, and without
answering he measured the bold speaker scornfully from head to foot.
"Your church," continued the stranger, "will be a very lovely
building, but don't you think that such an enterprise is far too
audacious for mortal man. You, Master Gerhard, you ought to have known
at the time when you laid the foundation stone of your church that you
never would see your work finished."
"Who is likely to prevent it?" angrily burst forth the builder. No one
had ever dared to use such language towards him, nor to wound his
pride so keenly. "Death," coolly replied the stranger. "Never," cried
Master Gerhard in a great fury, "I will finish what I began, and would
even bet with the devil himself to do so."
"Hallo!" laughed the stranger grimly. "I should like to deal with such
an audacious man as you, and make bold to bet with you that I will, in
a shorter space of time, finish the digging of a canal from Treves to
Cologne, fill it with water, and have merry ducks swimming on it, than
you will take to complete your church."
"So be it!" said Master Gerhard very much startled, taking the
outstretched hand of the strange man. At the touch of his cold
fingers, a sensation of horror crept into the heart of Master Gerhard.
But the red-cloaked man burst into a yelling laugh and cried out in a
formidable voice, "Remember we betted for your soul." Utmost terror
seized the trembling architect, cold perspiration stood on his brow,
and he tried in vain to utter a word.
Suddenly a storm rose, the stranger unfolded his red cloak, and was
lifted from the ground in a cloud of dust and vanished.
From that day the mind of Master Gerhard grew more and more gloomy. He
kept on wandering restlessly on the scaffoldings of the building. The
more he considered the huge dimensions of the cathedral, the more
doubtful he felt as to whether he would be able to finish it or not.
By daybreak he could be seen among his workmen, and till late in the
evening he wandered about on the building-ground, praising the
industrious and blaming the idle. He looked out anxiously sometimes in
the direction of Treves to see if he could discern anything uncommon
there. But he never saw the slightest change, nor any sign that the
stranger with whom he had betted, had really begun his canal in
earnest, and he looked more hopefully into the future.
One day he was standing as usual on the top of one of the completed
towers, when he felt a hand laid on his shoulder. Turning round, he
beheld with disagreeable surprise the ghostly stranger. Was he a
master of the black art or was he the devil himself? "Well, Master
Gerhard," began the unwelcome visitor, "how are you getting on with
your work? I see it is making good progress. Happily I shall soon
have finished my canal, else I should run the risk of losing my bet."
"I can scarcely believe your boasting speech," answered the builder
scornfully, "because I do not perceive the slightest trace of your
having begun the canal." "Know, my dear man, that I am worth more than
a hundred workmen together and, as I told you, my work is nearly
ready," said the man in red.
"Really," said Master Gerhard a little startled, "I should like to
know what magic power could enable you to do so."
"Come and follow me," replied the stranger, taking the builder by the
hand. Off they flew through the air with the quickness of lightning,
and reached the earth in the district near Treves in a few seconds. At
the place where they descended, a spring arose from the ground and
sent its crystal waters into an opening in a rock. "Come with me,"
said the magic stranger, and bending down he disappeared in this
opening.
Master Gerhard followed him and came into a high glittering grotto,
where he perceived that the water gushed tumultuously into the mouth
of a black underground channel.
"You see," said the stranger, "how well I have used my time. If you
have the heart for it, we will follow the waters, and see how far my
canal reaches already."
Scarcely had he uttered these words, than a mysterious power seized
both and pushed them forward with tremendous rapidity. Master Gerhard
saw now with terror that the work of the Evil One was indeed not
far from its completion, for when they emerged from the dark canal,
they had the City of Cologne lying close before them. The
cathedral-builder could no longer doubt the great skill of his rival,
and he felt sure that he would lose his bet. The red-cloaked man
seemed to take great delight in the builder's discomfiture, and he
said with an ugly grin:
"Well, Master Gerhard, I see you have found more than you expected. I
am sure you would like to see the merry ducks which shall swim on my
brook, according to our bet."
He clapped his hands three times and then listened. Some minutes
passed, but no ducks appeared. The stranger's face assumed an
expression of rage, when he found his summons unsuccessful. He tried
again but in vain. After this he gave a frightful yell, and vanished
all at once, leaving nothing behind him but a smell of sulphur.
The cathedral-builder had looked on in wonder, and new hope began to
fill his heart, that after all he could win the bet.
"I know well, why the ducks won't appear," thought he, "but I shall
never betray my secret to him."
After this adventurous journey, Master Gerhard was a prey to
melancholy.
He was seen oftener than before on the building ground. It was
impossible for him to doubt any longer, that the stranger with whom he
had made the fatal bet, was the devil himself. The unfortunate man
was well aware that not only was his life at stake, but that the
salvation of his soul was likewise in danger, should the master of
hell carry out his work.
There was only one little hope left for him, namely, that the devil
would be unable to find out how to keep the ducks alive while they
were swimming through the long underground channel. So Master Gerhard
took courage, saying to himself: "He cannot win and I know why."
His young wife was strangely moved at her husband's silence and
melancholy. She tried by increased tenderness and love to unstop his
silent lips and to make him tell what was lying so heavily on his
heart.
He appreciated her endeavours to cheer him very much, but could not be
brought to tell of his dealings with the Evil One, and so he kept his
secrets to himself.
One day, not long after the mysterious journey of Master Gerhard, a
stranger, apparently a scholar, entered the architect's house, while
he was as usual on the building ground. A scarlet cloak enveloped his
tall figure, and a cock's feather sat boldly on his black cap.
His manners were soft and in general those of a gentleman. Hearing
that the builder was not at home, he asked for his wife. She came and
soon found that she liked talking to him, because he showed not only
great eloquence, but also great sympathy for her husband.
Involuntarily she disclosed to the kind stranger her secret grief
about Master Gerhard's sadness. The scholar listened to her troubles
with great attention, and seemed to feel for her in her sorrow. "My
dear Mistress," said he in a soft voice, "there is surely some secret
weighing heavily on his mind, and this and nothing else is the cause
of his melancholy. Unless we know it, we cannot cure him. You are
nearest to his heart. If you are very loving and tender to him, he
will not withhold the secret for long from you. Be extremely kind to
him. After three days I shall come back to see if you have been
successful. If not, I will give you a remedy that will unfailingly
make him tell you his inmost thoughts."
Thus speaking he took his leave, and she was unable to find words to
express her gratitude.
For three days she tried the scholar's advice, but found that her
husband, in spite of all her coaxing and caresses, would not tell the
cause of his melancholy.
On the fourth day, the scholar called again and heard with apparent
grief how badly her endeavours had succeeded, "I pity you heartily,"
said he, "but don't despair. Here is a wonderful herb. Prepare a
beverage with it for your husband and make him drink it before he goes
to sleep. He will dream after the draught and betray his secrets in
his sleep."
She accepted the gift gratefully, and prepared the potion according to
his advice. Her husband took the beverage willingly, and soon fell
into a profound sleep. After some time dreams seemed to trouble him;
he tossed restlessly to and fro in his bed murmuring incoherent
words. His wife listened anxiously and heard in feverish excitement
about the terrible dealings between him and the devil. After a pause
Master Gerhard muttered:
"He will never win, because I hold the secret."
"What may that be?" whispered she in the dreamer's ear.
"He may do what he will," unconsciously answered he, "it is quite
impossible that ducks should swim through the underground channel,
unless he makes air-holes at every mile. Of course this idea will
never come into his head."
The next morning the scholar called upon the wife and heard how well
his scheme had succeeded. She told him every thing. When she had
revealed her husband's secret to him, the meek features of her strange
guest suddenly changed. He gave a loud shrill scream of joy and
disappeared. The poor wife remained on the same spot, pale and
terror-stricken.
Master Gerhard was standing the next day by the high crane of the
cathedral as usual.
The air was sultry, and black clouds were gathering from across the
Rhine. He felt very restless, and urged his workmen even more than
before to hurry on. The builder's heart was strangely filled with dark
forebodings. All at once he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turning
round, he beheld with terror the fatal stranger. A wondrous gleam of
red-like flames seemed to radiate all round his figure.
The cathedral builder grew pale as death and trembled from head to
foot. He was unable to utter a word.
Beaming with the joy of triumph, the Evil One pointed with his hand
downwards, and forced Master Gerhard to look in the same direction.
Behold! At the foot of the cathedral a silvery brook was visible
running from the direction of Treves. Merry ducks were swimming on its
shining surface.
It is impossible to describe the feelings of the builder at the sight
of the completed work of his rival. Despair and agony made his heart
sink within him, but the Evil One looked with joy on his victim. When
he suddenly tried to grasp him, Master Gerhard darted to the edge of
the scaffolding with a heart-rending scream, and dashed himself down
into the depth below, and was instantly killed.
A roar of thunder filled the air at that moment and the devil
vanished in a blaze of lightning. The thunderstorm grew more and more
violent. After a few minutes the unhappy cathedral builder's house was
struck by lightning and burnt to ashes in less than an hour.
Unfortunately, the admirable plan of the splendid church was also
destroyed.
This was the sad end of Master Gerhard and his ambition.
The cathedral remained untouched for more than six centuries after.
Its unfinished walls and towers began to decay as if they mourned the
terrible death of their builder. The Cologne people believed for a
long time that the spirit of Master Gerhard used to hover about
midnight round the high towers and the desolated vaults. Strange
sounds like the sighs of somebody in anguish were often heard in the
deserted building, and people said it was Master Gerhard's ghost
complaining that his proud cathedral remained unfinished.
Generation after generation passed by, and six centuries elapsed
before busy workmen began again hammering and building on the ground
which had lain so long quiet.
In 1880 the dome was finished, and towers now in all its majesty high
above the dwellings of the people, and can be seen miles away.
Since that glorious day when the last stone was added to the cathedral
of Cologne, Master Gerhard's ghost has never been heard or seen again.