"Theodore Wieland, the prisoner at the bar, was now called upon for his
defence. He looked around him for some time in silence, and with a mild
countenance. At length he spoke:
"It is strange; I am known to my judges and my auditors. Who is there
present a stranger to the character of Wieland? who knows him not as an
husband--as a father--as a friend? yet here am I arraigned as criminal.
I am charged with diabolical malice; I am accused of the murder of my
wife and my children!
"It is true, they were slain by me; they all perished by my hand.
The task of vindication is ignoble. What is it that I am called to
vindicate? and before whom?
"You know that they are dead, and that they were killed by me. What more
would you have? Would you extort from me a statement of my motives? Have
you failed to discover them already? You charge me with malice; but your
eyes are not shut; your reason is still vigorous; your memory has not
forsaken you. You know whom it is that you thus charge. The habits of
his life are known to you; his treatment of his wife and his
offspring is known to you; the soundness of his integrity, and the
unchangeableness of his principles, are familiar to your apprehension;
yet you persist in this charge! You lead me hither manacled as a felon;
you deem me worthy of a vile and tormenting death!
"Who are they whom I have devoted to death? My wife--the little ones,
that drew their being from me--that creature who, as she surpassed
them in excellence, claimed a larger affection than those whom natural
affinities bound to my heart. Think ye that malice could have urged me
to this deed? Hide your audacious fronts from the scrutiny of heaven.
Take refuge in some cavern unvisited by human eyes. Ye may deplore your
wickedness or folly, but ye cannot expiate it.
"Think not that I speak for your sakes. Hug to your hearts this
detestable infatuation. Deem me still a murderer, and drag me to
untimely death. I make not an effort to dispel your illusion: I utter
not a word to cure you of your sanguinary folly: but there are probably
some in this assembly who have come from far: for their sakes, whose
distance has disabled them from knowing me, I will tell what I have
done, and why.
"It is needless to say that God is the object of my supreme passion.
I have cherished, in his presence, a single and upright heart. I have
thirsted for the knowledge of his will. I have burnt with ardour to
approve my faith and my obedience.
"My days have been spent in searching for the revelation of that will;
but my days have been mournful, because my search failed. I solicited
direction: I turned on every side where glimmerings of light could be
discovered. I have not been wholly uninformed; but my knowledge has
always stopped short of certainty. Dissatisfaction has insinuated
itself into all my thoughts. My purposes have been pure; my wishes
indefatigable; but not till lately were these purposes thoroughly
accomplished, and these wishes fully gratified.
"I thank thee, my father, for thy bounty; that thou didst not ask a less
sacrifice than this; that thou placedst me in a condition to testify my
submission to thy will! What have I withheld which it was thy pleasure
to exact? Now may I, with dauntless and erect eye, claim my reward,
since I have given thee the treasure of my soul.
"I was at my own house: it was late in the evening: my sister had gone
to the city, but proposed to return. It was in expectation of her return
that my wife and I delayed going to bed beyond the usual hour; the rest
of the family, however, were retired.
"My mind was contemplative and calm; not wholly devoid of apprehension
on account of my sister's safety. Recent events, not easily explained,
had suggested the existence of some danger; but this danger was
without a distinct form in our imagination, and scarcely ruffled our
tranquillity.
"Time passed, and my sister did not arrive; her house is at some
distance from mine, and though her arrangements had been made with a
view to residing with us, it was possible that, through forgetfulness,
or the occurrence of unforeseen emergencies, she had returned to her own
dwelling.
"Hence it was conceived proper that I should ascertain the truth by
going thither. I went. On my way my mind was full of these ideas
which related to my intellectual condition. In the torrent of fervid
conceptions, I lost sight of my purpose. Some times I stood still;
some times I wandered from my path, and experienced some difficulty, on
recovering from my fit of musing, to regain it.
"The series of my thoughts is easily traced. At first every vein beat
with raptures known only to the man whose parental and conjugal love
is without limits, and the cup of whose desires, immense as it is,
overflows with gratification. I know not why emotions that were
perpetual visitants should now have recurred with unusual energy. The
transition was not new from sensations of joy to a consciousness of
gratitude. The author of my being was likewise the dispenser of every
gift with which that being was embellished. The service to which a
benefactor like this was entitled, could not be circumscribed. My social
sentiments were indebted to their alliance with devotion for all their
value. All passions are base, all joys feeble, all energies malignant,
which are not drawn from this source.
"For a time, my contemplations soared above earth and its inhabitants.
I stretched forth my hands; I lifted my eyes, and exclaimed, O! that I
might be admitted to thy presence; that mine were the supreme delight of
knowing thy will, and of performing it! The blissful privilege of direct
communication with thee, and of listening to the audible enunciation of
thy pleasure!
"What task would I not undertake, what privation would I not cheerfully
endure, to testify my love of thee? Alas! thou hidest thyself from my
view: glimpses only of thy excellence and beauty are afforded me. Would
that a momentary emanation from thy glory would visit me! that some
unambiguous token of thy presence would salute my senses!
"In this mood, I entered the house of my sister. It was vacant. Scarcely
had I regained recollection of the purpose that brought me hither.
Thoughts of a different tendency had such absolute possession of my
mind, that the relations of time and space were almost obliterated from
my understanding. These wanderings, however, were restrained, and I
ascended to her chamber.
"I had no light, and might have known by external observation, that
the house was without any inhabitant. With this, however, I was
not satisfied. I entered the room, and the object of my search not
appearing, I prepared to return.
"The darkness required some caution in descending the stair. I stretched
my hand to seize the balustrade by which I might regulate my steps.
How shall I describe the lustre, which, at that moment, burst upon my
vision!
"I was dazzled. My organs were bereaved of their activity. My eye-lids
were half-closed, and my hands withdrawn from the balustrade. A nameless
fear chilled my veins, and I stood motionless. This irradiation did not
retire or lessen. It seemed as if some powerful effulgence covered me
like a mantle.
"I opened my eyes and found all about me luminous and glowing. It was
the element of heaven that flowed around. Nothing but a fiery stream was
at first visible; but, anon, a shrill voice from behind called upon me
to attend.
"I turned: It is forbidden to describe what I saw: Words, indeed, would
be wanting to the task. The lineaments of that being, whose veil was now
lifted, and whose visage beamed upon my sight, no hues of pencil or of
language can pourtray.
"As it spoke, the accents thrilled to my heart. "Thy prayers are heard.
In proof of thy faith, render me thy wife. This is the victim I chuse.
Call her hither, and here let her fall."--The sound, and visage, and
light vanished at once.
"What demand was this? The blood of Catharine was to be shed! My wife
was to perish by my hand! I sought opportunity to attest my virtue.
Little did I expect that a proof like this would have been demanded.
"My wife! I exclaimed: O God! substitute some other victim. Make me
not the butcher of my wife. My own blood is cheap. This will I pour
out before thee with a willing heart; but spare, I beseech thee, this
precious life, or commission some other than her husband to perform the
bloody deed.
"In vain. The conditions were prescribed; the decree had gone forth, and
nothing remained but to execute it. I rushed out of the house and across
the intermediate fields, and stopped not till I entered my own parlour."
"My wife had remained here during my absence, in anxious expectation of
my return with some tidings of her sister. I had none to communicate.
For a time, I was breathless with my speed: This, and the tremors
that shook my frame, and the wildness of my looks, alarmed her. She
immediately suspected some disaster to have happened to her friend, and
her own speech was as much overpowered by emotion as mine.
"She was silent, but her looks manifested her impatience to hear what I
had to communicate. I spoke, but with so much precipitation as scarcely
to be understood; catching her, at the same time, by the arm, and
forcibly pulling her from her seat.
"Come along with me: fly: waste not a moment: time will be lost, and the
deed will be omitted. Tarry not; question not; but fly with me!
"This deportment added afresh to her alarms. Her eyes pursued mine, and
she said, "What is the matter? For God's sake what is the matter? Where
would you have me go?"
"My eyes were fixed upon her countenance while she spoke. I thought
upon her virtues; I viewed her as the mother of my babes: as my wife:
I recalled the purpose for which I thus urged her attendance. My heart
faltered, and I saw that I must rouse to this work all my faculties. The
danger of the least delay was imminent.
"I looked away from her, and again exerting my force, drew her towards
the door--'You must go with me--indeed you must.'
"In her fright she half-resisted my efforts, and again exclaimed, 'Good
heaven! what is it you mean? Where go? What has happened? Have you found
Clara?"
"Follow me, and you will see," I answered, still urging her reluctant
steps forward.
"What phrenzy has seized you? Something must needs have happened. Is she
sick? Have you found her?"
"Come and see. Follow me, and know for yourself."
"Still she expostulated and besought me to explain this mysterious
behaviour. I could not trust myself to answer her; to look at her; but
grasping her arm, I drew her after me. She hesitated, rather through
confusion of mind than from unwillingness to accompany me. This
confusion gradually abated, and she moved forward, but with irresolute
footsteps, and continual exclamations of wonder and terror. Her
interrogations of "what was the matter?" and "whither was I going?" were
ceaseless and vehement.
"It was the scope of my efforts not to think; to keep up a conflict and
uproar in my mind in which all order and distinctness should be lost;
to escape from the sensations produced by her voice. I was, therefore,
silent. I strove to abridge this interval by my haste, and to waste all
my attention in furious gesticulations.
"In this state of mind we reached my sister's door. She looked at the
windows and saw that all was desolate--"Why come we here? There is no
body here. I will not go in."
"Still I was dumb; but opening the door, I drew her into the entry. This
was the allotted scene: here she was to fall. I let go her hand, and
pressing my palms against my forehead, made one mighty effort to work up
my soul to the deed.
"In vain; it would not be; my courage was appalled; my arms nerveless:
I muttered prayers that my strength might be aided from above. They
availed nothing.
"Horror diffused itself over me. This conviction of my cowardice, my
rebellion, fastened upon me, and I stood rigid and cold as marble. From
this state I was somewhat relieved by my wife's voice, who renewed her
supplications to be told why we came hither, and what was the fate of my
sister.
"What could I answer? My words were broken and inarticulate. Her fears
naturally acquired force from the observation of these symptoms; but
these fears were misplaced. The only inference she deduced from my
conduct was, that some terrible mishap had befallen Clara.
"She wrung her hands, and exclaimed in an agony, "O tell me, where is
she? What has become of her? Is she sick? Dead? Is she in her chamber? O
let me go thither and know the worst!"
"This proposal set my thoughts once more in motion. Perhaps what my
rebellious heart refused to perform here, I might obtain strength enough
to execute elsewhere.
"Come then," said I, "let us go."
"I will, but not in the dark. We must first procure a light."
"Fly then and procure it; but I charge you, linger not. I will await for
your return.
"While she was gone, I strode along the entry. The fellness of a gloomy
hurricane but faintly resembled the discord that reigned in my mind. To
omit this sacrifice must not be; yet my sinews had refused to perform
it. No alternative was offered. To rebel against the mandate was
impossible; but obedience would render me the executioner of my wife. My
will was strong, but my limbs refused their office.
"She returned with a light; I led the way to the chamber; she looked
round her; she lifted the curtain of the bed; she saw nothing.
"At length, she fixed inquiring eyes upon me. The light now enabled her
to discover in my visage what darkness had hitherto concealed. Her
cares were now transferred from my sister to myself, and she said in
a tremulous voice, "Wieland! you are not well: What ails you? Can I do
nothing for you?"
"That accents and looks so winning should disarm me of my resolution,
was to be expected. My thoughts were thrown anew into anarchy. I spread
my hand before my eyes that I might not see her, and answered only by
groans. She took my other hand between her's, and pressing it to her
heart, spoke with that voice which had ever swayed my will, and wafted
away sorrow.
"My friend! my soul's friend! tell me thy cause of grief. Do I not merit
to partake with thee in thy cares? Am I not thy wife?"
"This was too much. I broke from her embrace, and retired to a corner
of the room. In this pause, courage was once more infused into me. I
resolved to execute my duty. She followed me, and renewed her passionate
entreaties to know the cause of my distress.
"I raised my head and regarded her with stedfast looks. I muttered
something about death, and the injunctions of my duty. At these words
she shrunk back, and looked at me with a new expression of anguish.
After a pause, she clasped her hands, and exclaimed--
"O Wieland! Wieland! God grant that I am mistaken; but surely something
is wrong. I see it: it is too plain: thou art undone--lost to me and
to thyself." At the same time she gazed on my features with intensest
anxiety, in hope that different symptoms would take place. I replied to
her with vehemence--
"Undone! No; my duty is known, and I thank my God that my cowardice is
now vanquished, and I have power to fulfil it. Catharine! I pity the
weakness of thy nature: I pity thee, but must not spare. Thy life is
claimed from my hands: thou must die!"
"Fear was now added to her grief. 'What mean you? Why talk you of death?
Bethink yourself, Wieland: bethink yourself, and this fit will pass. O
why came I hither! Why did you drag me hither?'
"I brought thee hither to fulfil a divine command. I am appointed thy
destroyer, and destroy thee I must." Saying this I seized her wrists.
She shrieked aloud, and endeavoured to free herself from my grasp; but
her efforts were vain.
"Surely, surely Wieland, thou dost not mean it. Am I not thy wife? and
wouldst thou kill me? Thou wilt not; and yet--I see--thou art Wieland
no longer! A fury resistless and horrible possesses thee--Spare
me--spare--help--help--"
"Till her breath was stopped she shrieked for help--for mercy. When
she could speak no longer, her gestures, her looks appealed to my
compassion. My accursed hand was irresolute and tremulous. I meant
thy death to be sudden, thy struggles to be brief. Alas! my heart was
infirm; my resolves mutable. Thrice I slackened my grasp, and life kept
its hold, though in the midst of pangs. Her eye-balls started from their
sockets. Grimness and distortion took place of all that used to bewitch
me into transport, and subdue me into reverence.
"I was commissioned to kill thee, but not to torment thee with the
foresight of thy death; not to multiply thy fears, and prolong thy
agonies. Haggard, and pale, and lifeless, at length thou ceasedst to
contend with thy destiny.
"This was a moment of triumph. Thus had I successfully subdued the
stubbornness of human passions: the victim which had been demanded was
given: the deed was done past recal.
"I lifted the corpse in my arms and laid it on the bed. I gazed upon
it with delight. Such was the elation of my thoughts, that I even broke
into laughter. I clapped my hands and exclaimed, 'It is done! My sacred
duty is fulfilled! To that I have sacrificed, O my God! thy last and
best gift, my wife!'
"For a while I thus soared above frailty. I imagined I had set myself
forever beyond the reach of selfishness; but my imaginations were false.
This rapture quickly subsided. I looked again at my wife. My joyous
ebullitions vanished, and I asked myself who it was whom I saw?
Methought it could not be Catharine. It could not be the woman who had
lodged for years in my heart; who had slept, nightly, in my bosom; who
had borne in her womb, who had fostered at her breast, the beings who
called me father; whom I had watched with delight, and cherished with a
fondness ever new and perpetually growing: it could not be the same.
"Where was her bloom! These deadly and blood-suffused orbs but ill
resemble the azure and exstatic tenderness of her eyes. The lucid stream
that meandered over that bosom, the glow of love that was wont to sit
upon that cheek, are much unlike these livid stains and this hideous
deformity. Alas! these were the traces of agony; the gripe of the
assassin had been here!
"I will not dwell upon my lapse into desperate and outrageous sorrow.
The breath of heaven that sustained me was withdrawn and I sunk into
_mere man_. I leaped from the floor: I dashed my head against the wall:
I uttered screams of horror: I panted after torment and pain. Eternal
fire, and the bickerings of hell, compared with what I felt, were music
and a bed of roses.
"I thank my God that this degeneracy was transient, that he deigned once
more to raise me aloft. I thought upon what I had done as a sacrifice to
duty, and _was calm_. My wife was dead; but I reflected, that though
this source of human consolation was closed, yet others were still open.
If the transports of an husband were no more, the feelings of a father
had still scope for exercise. When remembrance of their mother should
excite too keen a pang, I would look upon them, and _be comforted_.
"While I revolved these ideas, new warmth flowed in upon my heart--I was
wrong. These feelings were the growth of selfishness. Of this I was
not aware, and to dispel the mist that obscured my perceptions, a new
effulgence and a new mandate were necessary.
"From these thoughts I was recalled by a ray that was shot into the
room. A voice spake like that which I had before heard--'Thou hast done
well; but all is not done--the sacrifice is incomplete--thy children
must be offered--they must perish with their mother!--'"