[Illustration: THE PRINCESS ADALGA.]
AMONG THE GNOMES
An Occult Tale of Adventure
in the Untersberg
BY
FRANZ HARTMANN, M.D.
AUTHOR OF “MAGIC BLACK AND WHITE,” “PARACELSUS,” ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED_
LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN
PATERNOSTER SQUARE
1895
CONTENTS.
CHAP. PAGE
I. INTRODUCTION 1
II. IN THE DRAGON’S DEN 25
III. WITHIN THE UNTERSBERG 64
IV. AMONG THE GNOMES 114
V. AMONG THE GNOMES (_continued_) 137
VI. LUCIFER 168
VII. DIGGING FOR LIGHT 204
VIII. WAR 235
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
THE PRINCESS ADALGA _Frontispiece_
THE HAUNTED CASTLE 1
THE CAVE 25
THE DRAGON’S DEN 27
THE SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATION 52
THE GROTTO OF THE NYMPHS 64
HYPNOTIZED BY A MONKEY 114
THE DISCOVERY OF THE SUN 137
THE PALACE OF THE KING 143
THE TEMPLE OF LUCIFER 168
EDUCATING THE GNOMES 204
FAIRIES AND FLOWERS 235
[Illustration: THE HAUNTED CASTLE]
I.
INTRODUCTION.
Who has ever occupied himself seriously with the investigation of
the “night-side of Nature,” or studied the works of Theophrastus
Paracelsus, and not become acquainted with the celebrated “Untersberg”
(the “mountain of the lower world”) and its mysterious inhabitants,
the fairies and gnomes? Like a gigantic outpost of the Austrian Alps,
this snow-capped wing of the mountains stands on the frontier of
Germany, overlooking the Bavarian plains, dotted with hills, forests,
and lakes. Its summit, dwelling above the clouds, dominates the valley
through which the Salzach river winds its way to the Inn and the
Danube. Seen from the north side, where the city of Salzburg is nestled
among the hills, the mountain looks tame enough, rising in undulating
forest-covered lines up to a height of some seven thousand feet; but on
the south side it exhibits an almost endless variety of perpendicular
walls, formed of marble rocks thousands of feet high, and interrupted
by deep ravines and chasms, craggy cliffs, spurs, and precipices,
over which in the time of spring, when the snow begins to melt, great
avalanches come thundering down, and a sharp eye may detect in many an
inaccessible spot mysterious caves, that seem to penetrate into the
bowels of that mysterious mountain. If you will take the trouble of
climbing up to these dizzy heights, you will find yourself in a new
world, for there the Untersberg appears not as one single mountain, but
as a mountain chain, of which each separate link has its special aspect
and character, being separated from its neighbour by deep chasms,
through which the mountain streams rush. There is no end of waterfalls,
caves and labyrinths of boulders, where the inexperienced wanderer
may lose his way, especially if he is misled by the gnomes--which may
easily occur if his intentions are not pure.
The Untersberg is known to be inhabited by certain kinds of elemental
spirits of Nature, some of which are good and benevolent, others of a
wicked and malicious nature, and inimical to mankind; and there are
innumerable tales circulating among the people in the neighbourhood,
telling about the doings of the gnomes, fairies, wild women, and
giants, dwelling within caves and in gorgeous marble halls and
grottoes filled with gold and precious stones that will turn into dead
leaves and stones when seen in the light of day. Some of the friendly
tribes come out of the Untersberg on certain occasions, and they are
said to have sometimes associated with the inhabitants of our plane
of existence, partaking in the dances and amusements of the peasants,
and even taking stray children with them into the Untersberg; and,
incredible as it may appear, it is even asserted by “those who know”
that marriages have taken place between citizens of our world and the
inhabitants of the kingdom of gnomes, and that these spirits of Nature,
being themselves not immortal, seek to obtain immortality by their
union with immortal man. The majority of the gnomes, therefore, also
love plain, truthful, and unsophisticated human beings, such as possess
a soul in which the light of the immortal spirit may be perceived, and
with these they are ready to associate; but with soulless beings, such
as sophisticated, sceptical, arrogant, short-sighted and opinionated
scientists, whose hearts are dead, and whose brains are swollen with
the products of their own fancy, they will have nothing to do; to such
they never show themselves, but love to play tricks upon them whenever
they come with a view of invading their kingdom.
Of course it is known to everybody that within the mysterious depths of
the Untersberg there dwells the soul of a great emperor in his astral
form. There, together with his retinue, he sleeps an enchanted sleep,
waiting for the liberation of his country. Sometimes very suddenly,
even on a clear summer day, clouds are seen to issue from the sides of
the mountain; grotesquely-formed ghost-like mists arise from caverns
and precipices, crawling and gliding slowly upwards toward the top,
and from the neighbouring peaks also clouds of monstrous shapes and
sometimes of gigantic proportions come floating on, until the head
of the Untersberg is surrounded by a surging sea of vapours growing
dense and dark. Then a clap of thunder reverberates through the
rocks, awakening hundreds of echoes, and forked streaks of lightning
flash down into the valley; the storm-king arises, howling dismally
through the forest, breaking down old trees and hurling them into the
precipices below. On such occasions the people in the valleys piously
make the sign of the cross, and whisper to each other: “The great
emperor has awakened and is reviewing his troops. He is angry because
he sees that the black ravens are still flying around the top of the
Untersberg.” This, of course, I hold to be a fable, and the “emperor
in the Untersberg” is well known to the wise; but as to the dark birds
referred to, they are typified by certain black-robed and stiff-necked
gentlemen, whom you may frequently meet. The liberation for which the
emperor waits also seems to me not that from any foreign yoke, but the
redemption from selfishness with its consequent evils. Poor emperor!
You may have to wait still another thousand years in the world of the
gnomes before you will be able to resume control over your kingdom.
Sleep in peace! The time will not seem to you long; for it is not you
who suffers, and there is no measurement of time during sleep or in
eternity.
Owing to the increase of modern culture, and its accompanying sophistry
and scepticism, visible intercourse with the gnomes has become of
comparatively rare occurrence, especially because their kindness has
often been abused and their services misapplied, as the following story
will show, which I may be permitted to insert, as it is not without
bearing upon the events told in the succeeding chapters.
A short distance from the city of Salzburg, and upon a hill covered
by a forest of pines, there stood in ancient times the castle of
Tollenstein, of which now only some remnants are left. The walls are in
ruins, but these go to show that formerly they were parts of a palatial
building. One remnant composed of huge square stones still indicates
the extent of the large banqueting-hall, where festivals took place;
and it is said that on certain nights the orgies which these stones
witnessed are spectrally repeated and enacted in the astral light by
the ghost-like shapes of deceased ladies and knights; while not far off
there is a dilapidated tower of massive structure, enclosing a deep
hole in the ground, where the subterranean dungeon was located--the
“_oubliette_” or living tomb, in which poor wretches for some offence
were buried alive and “forgotten,” left to starve or suffocate. It is
said that, during the nights when the ghosts in the banqueting-hall
hold gruesome carousals, cries and groans and wails may be heard coming
from the bottom of that well. These things I do not find difficult
to believe; for we often find similar instances of the proximity of
luxury and misery among the living in this our material world.
In ancient times the owner of the castle was Burkhart von Tollenstein,
a youthful and valorous knight, admired by all the ladies in the
country on account of the voluminous mass of golden hair which adorned
his head. This, together with his manliness and beauty, gained for him
the hearts of all those fair ladies, except one, and this was the very
one for whose possession he craved, namely, the very beautiful but
proud Julia von Horst.
He had seen her only once, but that was enough to make him fall
desperately in love with her face and figure. He had been happy enough
until he was so unfortunate as to have the tranquillity of his heart
destroyed by the sight of her dark and languishing eyes. From that
time forward an image of the beautiful Julia was formed in his mind,
whose contemplation absorbed him so that he thought of nothing else;
henceforth nothing but the thought of Julia had any attraction for
him. He sought to woo and to win the ideal of his thoughts; but alas!
his sighs and tears were all in vain, for his home was poor, and the
proud Julia cared far more for money than for love! She knew that
Burkhart’s fortune was too small to supply her with all the luxuries
she desired; therefore, when he offered her his heart, she rejected it,
and sneeringly said:
“Of what use will be your heart to me, if starvation waits for me in
your home?”
This offensive remark was more than a knight of these times was able
to bear in patience, and Burkhart, cursing his poverty, went home in
despair. From day to day he became more and more morose and melancholy,
grieving on account of the insufficiency of his means. At last he
determined to enrich himself by whatever means he might find, and
resolved to rob the gnomes of the Untersberg of their treasures.
In these times it was customary for almost everybody to have a wise and
faithful steward ready to give good advice. Burkhart’s steward did his
best to dissuade the knight from this wicked and dangerous undertaking;
but in vain did old Bruno, for this was his name, entreat him to desist
from evil thoughts, and to forget the proud Julia, as she was entirely
unworthy of his affection. The knight would not listen.
“The Lord be merciful to you!” exclaimed Bruno. “Shake off this
delusion, O noble knight; think of your high descent and what your
ancestors would say. Look upwards, to where your salvation rests; the
spirits of the lower world will mislead and ruin you.”
But the knight answered, “I am not a coward. I am not afraid of losing
my life, which is worthless to me without the possession of Julia. More
than once I have looked into the face of death while engaged in battle.
I want the gold of the gnomes, and must have it, let the consequences
be what they may. If the gnomes are not willing to surrender their
gold, I shall take it by force.”
Thus spurning good advice, the knight gave orders that his black
war-horse be brought forth. This he bestrode, and trotted towards the
Untersberg.
It was a gloomy evening in November; the leaves of the trees had turned
yellow and red, and rustled in the wind, and their voices seemed to
warn him not to proceed, while the waving boughs motioned to him to
return. Soon the queen of the night began to spread her mantle over
the face of the earth, and there arose in the gloom, like a gigantic
shadow, the outlines of the mysterious Untersberg. For a moment fear
overcame the youth, and he stopped; but his desire overcame his fear,
and pronouncing an oath he spurred his horse, determined to push on.
Just then the horse shied, and, looking up, Burkhart saw sitting by
the roadside a dwarf clothed in a steel-blue gown. The dwarf looked
steadily with glittering eyes at the knight.
“Avaunt!” exclaimed Burkhart angrily. “What are you sitting here and
frightening my horse for?”
“Ho! ho!” laughed the dwarf. “Know, you creeping worm of the earth,
I am Pypo, the king of the gnomes. Mine is the Untersberg with its
treasures. What have you to seek in my territory?”
When Burkhart heard these words he deemed it prudent to speak politely
to the king of the gnomes. He therefore explained to him his situation,
and asked for the loan of a sum of money, for which he promised his
everlasting gratitude.
The king groaned. “Confound your gratitude,” he said; “there would be
plenty of wretches like you coming to borrow money from me, if it could
be had at such a cheap price.”
“What then do you demand?” asked the knight. “State your terms, and I
will accept them, for I must have gold at any price!”
“Listen then,” said the gnome; “it is not much that I ask. Only one
hair from your head for each thousand of florins.” Thus saying, his
eyes rested searchingly upon the face of the knight.
“Only one hair from my head?” exclaimed Burkhart in great astonishment.
“A whole lot of hair you shall have, and be welcome, if you only
furnish me the money necessary for obtaining the favour of Julia.”
“I am putting no limits to the amount you may draw,” laughed the king.
“For each thousand of florins which you receive from me you will have
to leave me one hair from your head.”
“It is a bargain!” exclaimed the knight joyfully, and, drawing his
dagger, he was about to proceed to cut a lock of hair from his forehead
to offer it to the king.
“Not so,” said Pypo. “Only one hair at a time, and I will have to pull
it out myself by the root.”
So the knight dismounted, and as he bent down the dwarf tore a single
hair from his scalp, after which he threw a bag of gold at Burkhart’s
feet.
“Thanks!” exclaimed the knight, as he hugged the bag and gloated over
its contents.
“No thanks are wanted,” replied the gnome; “see to it that the hairs
upon your head will not become too few in time to purchase enough gold
for satisfying the greed of your Julia.”
So saying the gnome vanished; but the knight returned with his bag of
gold to the castle. He now at once began to enlarge and improve his
house in exquisite style; he bought costly furniture and ornaments,
hired servants and cooks, sent out invitations for dinners and balls,
and every evening he went to the Untersberg for another bag of gold,
leaving in return one of his hairs.
Soon the news of the riches of Burkhart von Tollenstein began to
spread, and everybody wondered and came to see and admire the luxury
displayed by the knight. Now the consent of Julia was easily gained,
and before many days the walls of the castle resounded with gay music,
merry-making, and laughter; for the marriage of the valorous knight
with the beautiful countess took place. All the nobility in the country
were invited, and took part in the revel.
Henceforth the castle of Tollenstein became the scene of an
uninterrupted succession of festivities of all kinds; there was a
merry-go-round, and the doors of the house were open day and night
to visitors. Parasites of all kinds peopled the castle. Dinners,
dances, masquerades, tournaments, theatrical performances and hunting
excursions followed each other without end, and the beautiful Julia
had the sweet satisfaction of being surrounded by flatterers and
admirers to her heart’s content; but her desires grew in proportion as
they were gratified, her vanity in proportion as it was tickled: her
whims were incalculable, but the resources of her husband seemed to be
inexhaustible, and he was an object of envy to everyone.
More and more frequent grew his visits to the Untersberg, from each of
which he returned with a thousand florins in gold, but with one less
hair from his head; and for all that, he seemed not to be happy, for he
saw only too clearly that he had bought only the appearance of love,
and that his wife loved not him but only his money; and whenever he did
not at once comply with her unreasonable and extravagant demands, she
would treat him with contempt, so as to render life a burden to him.
All this caused him a great deal of grief, which he sought to drown in
the wine-cup. Thus he became at last a confirmed drunkard and an object
of disgust. All the evil germs in his nature began to grow luxuriantly
and to bear fruit. He became a weakling, a cruel tyrant towards his
subjects, an abject coward in the presence of his wife, who treated him
as if he were a slave. His troubles caused him to grow prematurely old,
and the hair upon his head grew thinner from day to day.
Thus a few years passed away in great misery, and at last poor Burkhart
was entirely bald-headed. The last florin was gone; but the countess
had ordered a great tournament and dinner, to which many noblemen and
ladies of rank were invited. Once more Burkhart went to the Untersberg
for the purpose of asking the king of the gnomes for money; but no more
hair did he have to give in return. The gnome appeared, and the knight,
removing his helmet, showed him the deplorable condition of his scalp,
hoping to arouse the pity of the king.
“Ah, Burkhart!” exclaimed Pypo; “did I not tell you to beware that your
hairs may not become too few?”
“I now see my folly,” sighed the knight; “but for pity’s sake let me
have only one more bag of gold, to save myself from disgrace.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed the gnome. “Nothing brings nothing. No hair, no
money; our bargain is at a end!”
“Ask what you will!” cried the knight; “but hair I have no more to
give. Take my soul; but give me only one bag of money. Only one bag of
gold I am asking of you!”
But in vain Burkhart implored the gnome. Pypo was inexorable, and
laughed at him. This exasperated Burkhart, and becoming enraged, he
cried: “Hell-hound! you have completed your devilish work. With each
hair that you took from my head you robbed me of a part of my manhood.
Now I recognise you as the fiend that you are. Give me back my lost
energy. Give me back the beautiful golden hair of which you have
despoiled me by means of your accursed gold. Give it back to me, or
look out for the revenge of the Tollensteins!”
But the gnome laughed. “Fool!” he said; “do you wish to frighten me?
Would you now curse the one from whom you received all that you wanted?
I laugh at you and your threats; but if you wish your hair returned, be
it so!”
So saying the gnome drew forth a cord twisted from Burkhart’s hair,
and threw it at the feet of the knight. He then disappeared within the
depths of the Untersberg, while from all sides a mocking laughter shook
the air, as if coming from a multitude of invisible spectators; but the
knight went home and locked himself up in his bedroom.
At the castle of Tollenstein everything was in readiness for the
beginning of the great tournament. Knights in glittering armour and
ladies in costly dresses were thronging the halls; while in the
courtyard below richly decked steeds, attended by grooms in bright
colours, neighed and stamped the ground, impatient for the opening of
the sham fight; for the beginning of which nothing was now needed but
the presence of the host. The trumpets sounded, but nothing was seen
of Burkhart. Repeatedly were messengers sent to his room, but they
found the door locked and were not admitted. At last Julia, losing her
patience, went up with clenched fists to inquire about the cause of
this delay, but her knocks at the door elicited no reply. She therefore
ordered the door to be forced open, and then a ghastly sight met her
eyes. Burkhart von Tollenstein was lying dead on his bed, his features
distorted as if he had died in great agony; around his neck was tied a
cord of yellow human hair, with which he had been strangled; his eyes
were protruding as if starting from their sockets; while his fingers
were spasmodically closed around a bag containing one thousand florins
in gold. This was the end of the Tollensteins.
And now the excuses for writing the following tale:
If this story of Burkhart of Tollenstein had never been exhumed from
the archives containing the family histories of the ancient knights of
the Duchy of Salzburg, the following chapters would never have been
written; for it was the discovery of these reliable documents which
recalled to my memory the history told to me by my now deceased friend,
Mr Schneider, who was himself a participant in the adventure which I am
about to describe.
It appears that, long after the death of Burkhart von Tollenstein,
three very learned gentlemen, having heard of that story, arrived from
some far-off country--presumably from the dark continent. Being of a
very sceptical turn of mind, they did not believe in gnomes, and had
undertaken their journey for the purpose of disproving the existence
of the spirits of Nature. They belonged to a scientific Society, whose
object was the abolition of the supernatural, and to sober up mankind
by drawing away their attention from all sorts of ideals, and bring
them back to the dry and hard facts of material life. That Society
had already accomplished a great deal of important work. They had
by a certain system of logic disproved the existence of God, spirit
and soul, and shown that all that is called life or consciousness is
nothing else but the result of friction brought on by the mechanical
motion of molecules of dead matter accidentally coming into contact
with each other. The three gentlemen with whom we shall directly
become acquainted were appointed by the Society for the Abolition of
the Supernatural as a committee, for the purpose of giving the last
death-blow to the superstitious belief in spirits and gnomes, and
arrived for that purpose. They were firmly determined that the belief
in anything that could not be seen by means of corporeal eyes, or
grasped with fingers of flesh, should be relegated into the garret,
where antiquated superstitions are stowed away.
After due consultation, these gentlemen resolved to make a scientific
expedition to one of the caves of the Untersberg, reported to be
haunted; and Mr Schneider, being then a young and vigorous man,
well acquainted with the topography of the mountain, was invited to
accompany them. The excursion took place on the day preceding St
John’s, it being the 23rd of June; but the date of the year escaped my
memory. The adventures which Mr Schneider experienced are told by him
in the following pages.
[Illustration: THE CAVE]
II.
IN THE DRAGON’S DEN.
About a thousand feet below the summit of the Untersberg, and not very
far from the top of one of its spurs, that reaches out into the valley
through which runs the limpid stream coming from the renowned lake
called the “Koenigsee,” there is a spacious cave, within an almost
perpendicular slope of rocks, several hundred feet in height. This
cave or hole, called the “Dragon’s Den,” is large enough for affording
shelter to a whole herd of cattle, and high enough so that a good-sized
church, steeple and all, might be put therein. Its roof is formed by
an overhanging rock (as is shown in our picture), and the hole extends
like a tunnel from one side of the hill to the other; so that if seen
from below it appears like an archway through which the sky and the
stars on the other side may be seen.
[Illustration: THE DRAGON’S DEN.]
This den is said to have been inhabited in ancient times by a
villainous dragon of a very peculiar kind, having no conscience,
reason, or common sense, but being exceedingly selfish. His greatest
pleasure was to dissect and analyse everything, and to destroy all
that was of an ideal nature; to tear the clothes away from everything
exalted and beautiful for the purpose of exposing bare facts. These
he liked so well, that he imagined the bones of every creature were
its only essential parts; so he tore the flesh of his victims away and
devoured their bones. From the altitude of his den he would overlook
both sides of the hill, and whenever he saw a pretty maiden wandering
among the rocks in search of the Alpine rose or the Edelweiss, he would
pounce upon her, drag her to his den, dissect her, and strip her of all
flesh, and devour the bones piece by piece. It is said that later on
the dragon emigrated into the valley, but his den was selected by the
committee for the investigation concerning the non-existence of gnomes.
Before we proceed further, it will be necessary to introduce the
reader to our friends. There was, first of all, Professor Thomas
Cracker, a member of nearly all scientific societies in the world, a
great sceptic, who, by a long course of scientifically training his
imagination, had acquired such a degree of scientific scepticism that
he always knew everything without taking the trouble of looking at it.
There was no fact in Nature for which he had not invented a theory; and
if the theory did not fit it, so much the worse for the facts. He had
become celebrated; because, owing to his superior sagacity, and after
years of persevering study, he had succeeded in discovering that a
certain book entitled “Little Alice in Wonderland,” was only a fable,
not based upon historical facts, and whose object was to bamboozle the
ignorant and take in unwary and gullible people. Owing to the great
merit obtained by this work the honour and title of a member of the
Academy was bestowed upon him.
Mr Cracker’s father had been the keeper of a variety shop, and was in
the habit of ignoring and treating with contempt everything that was
not of his own manufacture or kept in his shop. Nevertheless, among
the good articles which he kept for sale, there were many things
that had gone out of fashion. These he used to fit up in a new style,
varnish and paint them over, give them new labels with modern names,
and advertise them as something brand new. Thus he did a good trade and
gained a reputation.
Professor Cracker, junior, resembled his father to a dot, only he
traded in less tangible goods. He also was in the habit of ignoring and
treating with contempt everything that did not agree with the theories
that were manufactured by himself or his colleagues; nevertheless there
were among his articles of creed certain doctrines taught centuries
ago, but having gone out of fashion. These he used to take down from
the garret where they had been forgotten, dress them up in modern
style, varnish them over with modern expressions, label them with newly
invented names, and advertise them as brand-new discoveries, or goods
of his own invention. In this way Professor Cracker traded in science
and gained a reputation.
The next was the Reverend Jeremiah Stiffbone, a clergyman, who had
received from his congregation a liberal amount of money to enable
him to travel in search of the truth that could not be found at home.
Mr Stiffbone was well versed in all sorts of authorities, and able to
quote almost any number of books in support of almost any opinion, for
he knew the contents of many scientific and religious writings,--that
is to say, he knew what was written therein; but as to his knowledge in
regard to the subjects themselves, it would be difficult to decide what
it was; for he one day believed in this and the next day in another
author’s veracity, and the one into whom he put his faith was for the
time being to him the only infallible one. Thus he stumbled along upon
the path of wisdom, falling from one opinion into another like a person
in a state of intoxication. It should not be supposed, however, that
Jeremiah loved this state of uncertainty and wavering. What he wanted,
above all, was to establish a scientific and religious system that
could be fully depended on as being true and reliable, and containing
articles and scientific doctrines which everyone would have to accept
as true, and go to sleep quietly, being firmly convinced that the
opinions therein were the final dictates of science, incontrovertible,
not subject to improvement, and fully correct.
As to the external appearance of the above-named two gentlemen,
Professor Cracker was of short stature, thickly set, with a rubicund
face, smoothly shaven, except a pair of grey side-whiskers. His little
eyes continually wandered restlessly from one object to another, his
arms were unusually long, but his legs short and bow-shaped, and all
this somehow contributed to give him the appearance of a Mandril
(_Cynocephalus Maimon_), as may be said without giving offence to the
Professor; for he was himself firmly of the opinion that the whole of
man had descended from the ape. He even looked with satisfaction upon
his long line of ancestors, and prided himself on having become somehow
superior to them in the art of reasoning, if not in bodily strength.
As to the Reverend Stiffbone, he seemed the reverse of Professor
Cracker. He was thin and tall, looking like a collection of bones of
some antediluvian bird. His features were sharp, his head almost bald,
and his mouth wide, while his chin and nose were long and protruding,
as if they were trying to meet each other. Upon his nose he wore a
pair of green goggles of great size, causing him to appear not unlike
an owl; but his nose and chin gave him a resemblance to one of the
well-known wooden nut-crackers, which are manufactured in the city of
Nuremberg, and are the delight of the children all over the world.
Finally, there was Moses Abraham Scalawag, Esq., the commercial
business manager of the expedition. His external appearance went to
show that he was not much of an idealist, but preferred the good and
material things of this life, and had no aversion to a certain kind
in spirits. Although he denounced the belief in hobgoblins, ghosts,
gnomes, etc., as a degraded superstition, he somehow thought that, if
the story of Burkhart von Tollenstein were true, it might be worth
the while to investigate the financial condition of the gnomes in the
Untersberg.
We were accompanied by a guide, carrying our provisions and scientific
instruments. This guide was a direct descendant of the reputed Lazarus
Gitschner, who in the year 1529 spent ten days among the gnomes in
the Untersberg. We attempted to draw him out, but the guide would
not reveal what his ancestor had seen during that visit; nor is this
surprising, for Lazarus himself never revealed it to anybody except
to the priest in the confessional. All that has become known about
it is, that he came out of the Untersberg a man entirely changed from
what he was before he went in, and the priest also, after hearing the
confession, became very much changed himself, even so that he left off
playing ninepins on Sunday morning, led a retired life, and died not
long afterwards in the odour of sanctity.
Bright was the day, and the earth looked refreshed from the morning dew
that still rested upon the daffodils and ferns, where it glittered in
the light of the sun like so many small diamonds. The air was fragrant
from the odour of pines and wild thyme, and the breeze carried up from
the valley an aroma of new-mown hay. Peacefully grazed the goats upon
the sides of a hill, from which rushed a small cataract in a thousand
cascades, while an air of tranquillity and solemnity rested upon the
scene below, interrupted only by the tolling of the bell in the distant
village church, which sounded harmoniously into the solitude.
Of all this, however, our members of the committee saw, heard, smelt,
and knew nothing; for each was absorbed in his own thoughts. Professor
Cracker moved slowly on, carrying his wig on his walking-stick over
his shoulder, and revelling in the anticipation of the glory which
the annihilation of the gnome theory would bring upon him. The Rev.
Stiffbone’s long coat-tails fluttered in the wind as he marched on,
taking long strides upon the uneven path, and his thoughts were
absorbed in the prospect of being able to add another incontrovertible
doctrine in regard to the non-existing of gnomes to his _Bible of
Science_. Mr Scalawag wobbled along as well as he could, thinking
nothing particular, but stopping frequently and wiping the sweat from
his brow. At last he exclaimed:
“Confound these gnomes! Is it worth the while to climb up to that den
and waste our valuable time in disproving that such animals exist?”
To this the Reverend Stiffbone replied:
“Gnomes are not animals, but imaginary beings. Theophrastus Paracelsus
describes them as being intellectual forces in nature, whatever that
may mean. They are about six inches in height, but able to change and
to elongate their bodies.”
“But how can you determine their height,” asked Mr Scalawag, “if
they are merely imaginary? You may just as well imagine them to be a
thousand feet, if you try.”
“Rot!” interrupted Professor Cracker; for that was his favourite
impression whenever anything was mentioned that was unknown to him.
“Rot! there are no such things as intelligent forces of nature, neither
imaginary ones nor others. This degrading superstition has now lasted
long enough, and this day will make an end to such vagaries.”
“Are you then firmly convinced,” asked Mr Scalawag, rather dejectedly,
“that the treasures of the gnomes in the Untersberg do not exist?”
“They exist only in the imagination of fools,” replied the Professor.
“There can be no such thing as a spirit, as I shall demonstrate to you
to-day by means of my new spiritoscope.”
“It is strange,” now remarked the Rev. Stiffbone, “that there are still
some respectable authorities favouring such a superstitious belief.
Even the Bible mentions the existence of spirits in more than one
instance.”
“Rot!” replied the Professor. “There is no theory so absurd that it may
not find admirers among otherwise intelligent people. Only think of the
many fools who imagine it to be possible to make cars that are pulled
by steam!”
“Do you then believe it to be absolutely impossible to make railways?”
asked Mr Scalawag.
“Railways!” sneeringly exclaimed Cracker. “Rot! No man in his sane
senses would ever think of such a thing. Steam can blow; but it cannot
pull cars; if a steam-engine were invented, it would scald everybody
to death. As to those eccentric and fanatical people who now fancy
it possible to make a railway between Manchester and Liverpool, I
have only to say that we, the scientists of this century, decline to
waste our time in examining such wild and extravagant schemes. Even if
the tales told in some of the newspapers were true, instead of being
deplorable vagaries, and if it were possible to invent such an engine,
it would not interest us, for surely nobody would be insane enough to
trust his life and his safety to an engine going at the terrible speed
of sixteen miles an hour! No, my dear sir! To make a railway is as
impossible as that stones should fall from heaven; the reason of which
impossibility the Academy of Science has pointed out, namely, because
there are no stones in the sky.”
It may be observed that this conversation took place before the time
when meteors were known and railways in action; at the present time
such a display of scientific ignorance would of course be impossible.
“Suppose,” said the Rev. Stiffbone, “we admit for argument’s sake that
a railway could be made on a level plain. What would they do if they
were to come to a mountain? They would have to dig a hole through
it, pass through it in the dark, and coming out at the other end the
passengers would suddenly emerge into the light. This sudden change
would undoubtedly strike them blind.”
“Undoubtedly it would,” added Professor Cracker, “unless they were to
wear travelling-goggles for protection. You may however rest assured
that, if railways could be made, we would have discovered it long ago,
and the same may be said in regard to gnomes, ghosts, spirits, or
intelligent forces of any kind. If there were such things we would know
it.”
“How is it then possible,” I asked, “that the ancient philosophers
believed such things?”
“To a layman like you,” answered the Professor, “such a question may
be pardoned. The ancient philosophers were fools; they did not know
as much as one of our schoolboys knows to-day. As to Lord Lytton,
Goethe, and other more modern writers who spoke of such things, they
only did so because they loved to make jokes for the amusement of the
wise, and to have some fun at the expense of the gullible. We know that
spirit without matter does not exist. Matter is visible; consequently
the spirits would have to possess visible forms. We also know that no
kind of living beings can exist within solid rocks, where they would
be without water and air, and finally, if there were any intelligent
forces in nature, they would know the importance of coming forward and
proving their existence to men of science.”
I remarked that a belief in gnomes was quite common in this country,
and asked whether this could be explained.
“Ridiculously easy!” said the Professor. “The sources of error
are--inherited idiosyncrasies; a want of scientific training in making
observations; subjective, objective, and epidemic hallucinations;
credulity, hysteria, suggestion, dreams, hypnotism, post-hypnotic
auto-suggestion, and so forth.”
“Nevertheless,” I objected, “there are those who have been touched by
gnomes, have seen and conversed with them, received tangible objects
from them.”
“Rot!” replied Cracker. “It is all due to wilful deception, humbug,
swindle, trumpery, fraud, plagiarism, coincidence, telepathic impact,
thought-transfer, unconscious cerebration, mediumship, sympathetic
association of ideas, etc. Only recently I have discovered, after
making a long research and consulting many authorities, that the
accounts given in _Gulliver’s Travels_ were not based upon historical
facts, but are only the products of the imagination of the author, who
for thus imposing upon the credulity of the public, must be regarded
as being one of the greatest cheats of his age. Fetch me a spirit or
gnome, and let me dissect it to see of what it is made. Unless you do
so, I say that it is nothing but rot, the product of the disordered
fancy of a scientifically untrained brain.”
I did not quite agree with Cracker’s views, and I therefore said: “I
believe that there are still people capable of telling a pigtail from
a broomstick without dissecting it and having it certified to by a
professor of science.”
Cracker and Stiffbone exchanged an ominous look.
“This,” said Stiffbone, “comes from the increased disrespect for
the authorities. Nowadays everybody imagines that he has a right to
think and say what he pleases. It is time that a law ought to be made
punishing heresy in science, as it used to be punished in regard to
religion. Not long ago I heard a new heresy preached about what they
call ‘conservation of energy.’ Men ought not to be permitted to
go about and poison the minds of the public by spreading erroneous
scientific doctrines. We absolutely need a _Bible of Science_, stating
exactly what scientific beliefs the people are to accept.”
“Such a book,” answered the Professor, “would be of the greatest
benefit to the world, and prevent the injurious and misleading
self-thinking done by laymen and ignorant tramps. What business have
the common people to do their own thinking? No one ever attempts to
make his own shoes or clothes, but leaves this to his shoemaker or
tailor, who can do it much better, cheaper and quicker than he could
do it himself. Why not apply the same system to deciding scientific or
religious questions? Let the thinking in regard to such things be left
to those who are trained and entitled to it.”
With these views the Rev. Stiffbone fully agreed. “Science,” he said,
“ought to be left to the scientists, religion to the clergy, morality
to the police, medicine to the physicians, money matters to bankers,
and ideal things to legally appointed idealists. This would enable the
people to give more attention to their own material interests. Instead
of thinking about things which bring them no profit, they might employ
their time for useful things, such as the raising of hogs. Religion
ought not to be neglected, for the fear of the devil is the security of
the Church; but one authentic sermon printed and posted every Sunday in
public places would save the employment of an army of preachers, and
moreover secure conformity to the doctrines taught everywhere. If the
people must have music, one or two organ-grinders would be enough for
a town of no more than a thousand inhabitants; if they wanted poetry,
one well-trained and diplomatised verse-maker could supply the whole
country.”
“These questions,” said M. Scalawag, Esq., “deserve the most careful
consideration. Time is money. The struggle for existence is the first
law among all beings; the survival of the fittest its necessary result.
Let everyone take as much care as he can of his own interest, and leave
it to those who are appointed for that purpose to look out for the
rest.”
“We are appointed for that,” exclaimed Professor Cracker, “and we will
attend to it. I have just discovered a new system of hypnotism by means
of which large crowds can be hypnotised at once. Instead of sending the
children to school, we will hypnotise into their heads all that we want
them to know, and cause them to post-hypnotically forget all which we
do not wish them to remember. Thus we will be the kings of the world,
and all mankind will dance as we pull the strings!”
While carrying on these discussions we arrived at the “Dragon’s
Den,” where our investigations were to begin. The place showed no
indication of the presence of spirit; there was nothing dismal about
it; on the contrary, an air of peace seemed to rest upon the scene.
At the entrance of the cave there was a wild rosebush of considerable
size and some Alpine flowers, among which I noticed the Larkspur and
Belladonna. The walls consisted of marble rocks, exhibiting a variety
of colours, and were covered in some places with mosses and ferns. In a
shady corner there was still a remnant of snow, resembling a miniature
glacier, and rendering the air cool and pleasant. The two openings at
the sides offered a magnificent view.
The guide--who had remained a little behind, as his movements were
greatly impeded by the legs of Professor Cracker’s spiritoscope, which
he carried--now arrived with his bag of provisions, and unpacked
his treasures. Cold meats, poultry and cheese, ham and eggs, butter
and bread, made their appearance, and were soon disposed of by the
committee. Beer and wine had not been forgotten, and Professor
Cracker, filling his glass with champagne, lifted it up and offered
a toast, “to the annihilation of the gnomes;” which was followed by
another toast, pronounced by Jeremiah Stiffbone, “to Professor Cracker,
the king of science, and inventor of the spiritoscope,” while Mr
Scalawag, in offering his sentiments, said he hoped to find some of the
treasures of the Untersberg.
After the refreshments were taken, the investigations began. To begin
with, the committee carefully examined the rocks and walls and every
nook and corner of the “Dragon’s Den” for the purpose of convincing
themselves that there was no place where anybody might hide himself
and play a practical joke upon the investigators. They measured the
size of the rocks, and made sure of their solidity and the entire
absence of any subterranean caves or holes. The floor was found to
be perfectly solid, and no gnomes were to be seen. Thereupon they
carefully noted the hour and the minute, as is always necessary on
such occasions, and evidence was taken that the sky was clear. The
direction of the wind was determined with great accuracy, and found
to be E.N.E.; the temperature was taken and the various thermometers
indicated--25° Celsius, 20° Reaumur, and 77° Fahrenheit; the barometer
showed an elevation of 5800 feet above the sea and a medium atmospheric
pressure. No gnome or spirit of any kind appeared upon the scene, nor
was there to be found anything whatever of a spiritual character. After
all the necessary preparations were made Professor Cracker produced
his spiritoscope, whose description we are permitted to give for the
benefit of all psychical researchers; and as a boon to the whole of
mankind:
_Dr Cracker’s Spiritoscope._
This ingeniously constructed and very simple, although somewhat
ponderous instrument was the original invention of Professor
Cracker, and enabled him, instead of directly looking at an object, to
behold and examine it by means of a series of reflections produced by
four scientifically arranged mirrors bent towards each other at angles
of 45 degrees.
[Illustration: THE SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATION.]
The main body of the instrument consisted of a wooden box in which the
four above-named mirrors were placed so as to face each other, and to
the box was attached a telescope-tube. Thus a ray of light coming from
an outside object and entering the box would produce an image in the
first mirror; this would become reflected in the second and third, and
finally in the fourth, where it could be seen through the telescope.
The whole apparatus was mounted upon a tripod with movable legs, so
that it could be turned in every direction.
It will naturally be asked, how could Professor Cracker expect by
such natural means to discover anything supernatural, and what is
the benefit of looking at the reflection of a thing in a mirror, if
it might be just as well seen directly with the eye? As to the first
question, Professor Cracker did not admit the existence of anything
beyond the common aspect of nature, and needed therefore no instrument
for its discovery; while in regard to the second question, he said
that direct vision was unscientific and unreliable, because what a man
sees, or believes to see, may be caused by irregular cerebral action,
hallucination, defective sight, ecstasy, trance, clairvoyance, or other
diseases; but mirrors could not be deceived--they would not become
hallucinated, or enter into a state of ecstasy:--they only showed what
was actually true, and there was no humbug about them. Direct sight was
well enough for common people with common sense, but indirect vision
for science.
Heretofore the great merit of this spiritoscope was, as Professor
Cracker repeatedly pointed out, that it had never produced any other
than negative results, but these had been obtained unfailingly on all
occasions, for it had actually never indicated the presence of any
genius, gnome, ghost, or spirit whatever; but as the instrument was
constructed according to unquestionable principles, these negative
results were fully sufficient to prove the correctness of Professor
Cracker’s theory.
On this occasion, however, there seemed to be something the matter
with the spiritoscope. Be it that the mirrors were not in order, or
that even scientific and indirect vision may be deceptive, there was
evidently some kind of an obscuration within the tube, which could not
be explained by natural causes. In vain Professor Cracker repeatedly
cleaned his spectacles, and ultimately substituted coloured glasses
for them; the fact was undeniable that something dark, some sort of
a shadow, appeared repeatedly within the field of indirect vision,
and this something must have been alive, for it moved about by means
of some energy contained within itself, and without being kinetically
impelled by any discoverable extraneous force. Repeatedly the Professor
exclaimed the ominous word: “rot!” and “bosh!” and “impossible!”
His scepticism had to give way before the evidence produced by his
spiritoscope, and at last he was overcome by the conviction of having
discovered a gnome. He looked somewhat pale, as with bated breath
and with ill-suppressed excitement he announced the discovery to his
colleagues.
It was now Rev. Stiffbone’s turn to take a look through the
spiritoscope. He, too, saw the shadow, and saw it move. Owing to the
circumstance that the light fell into the instrument from the side
opposed to the standpoint of the observer, the part of the spirit
turned toward Stiffbone’s eye could not be clearly seen, but its
outlines seemed to grow sometimes larger and sometimes smaller, from
which he inferred that the spirit was a gnome, as they were said to be
able to change the size of their forms.
These observations were corroborated by Mr Scalawag. Professor Cracker
looked again, and having satisfied himself that there could be no
possible mistake, he made a speech, in which he said that it had been
reserved for him to make the greatest discovery of this age, and that
the existence of gnomes--which had heretofore been doubted by certain
too sceptical people--was now an established fact, demonstrated by him
for the first time in human history.