The story of the two Hunchbacks is widely diffused. It is told in
Ireland as well as in Germany and Italy; moreover it is said to be also
current in Spain. There are, of course, many varieties of it in these
countries. Compare, for instance, the Irish narrative of Lusmore, in
'Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, by T. Crofton
Croker,' with the one given here, which has been obtained from the
country people in Rhenish Prussia.
On St. Matthew's day, in the year 1549, a poor hump-backed musician was
returning late at night to Aachen[76] from a village where he had been
playing at a wedding. Being in a half drowsy state, he took but little
heed of time or place, and so he passed the Minster without concerning
himself about anything particularly, just as the large clock in the
tower boomed midnight. The sound startled him, especially as at the same
time there arose in the air a strange whirring like the unearthly sound
of owls and bats on the wing. It now occurred to him that this was the
night of quarter-day, and he quickened his steps to escape the terrors
of the ghost's hour and of apparitions. Nervously he turned into the
Schmiedstrasse (Smith-street) as the nearest way to his home, which was
in the Jakobstrasse (James-street). But on reaching the Fish
Market,--what did he see! All the stalls glistened with innumerable
lights, and about them were seated a large party of richly-dressed
ladies, feasting on dainty viands served in golden and silver dishes,
and drinking sparkling wine from crystal goblets. The musician, much
frightened, endeavoured to hide himself in a corner; for, he had not the
least doubt that he saw an assemblage of witches. But it was too late;
one of the ladies nearest him had already observed him, and she
conducted him to the table.
"Don't be frightened!" said the lady to the musician, who stood before
her with chattering teeth and trembling knees: "Don't be frightened;
but, play us some merry tunes, and thou shalt be paid for it."
The poor hunchback had no choice but to take up his violin, and to amuse
the strange company as long as they pleased. Having quickly set aside
the stalls with everything upon them, the witches--among whom the poor
hunchback thought he recognised several ladies of high position from the
town--whirled round in pairs to the sound of his fiddle. But the
strangest thing was that the longer the fellow continued to play, the
finer and fuller his performance appeared to him; so that he really
thought he must be either dreaming, or there must be a whole band of
violins and flutes placed behind him which joined in his performance.
Now the Minster clock struck a quarter to one; all the dancers
instantaneously stopped, visibly exhausted, and everything was
reinstated in its former order. Hesitating, the musician looked on,
uncertain whether he ought to stay any longer, or whether he might go;
when the lady who had engaged his services came up to him and said:
'Brave musician! thou hast done thy work to our content, and shalt now
receive thy recompense."
While saying the words she pulled off his jacket, and, before he was
aware of it, she had slipped behind him, and at one grasp relieved him
of his hump. Who so happy as the disburthened fiddler? In thankfulness
he was just going to throw himself on his knees before his
benefactress,--when the clock struck One, and in a moment, ladies,
lights, and dishes were gone, and the musician found himself at dark
night standing alone in the middle of the Fish Market. Bewildered, he
put his hand to his back, doubting lest the adventure had been merely a
confused dream. But, no; it was reality! The hump was gone, and the
happy fellow rejoiced in feeling as upright as man can be. Moreover, his
joy was still increased when he took up his jacket, which lay before him
on the ground. Perceiving it to be unaccountably heavy, and thrusting
his hands into the pockets to ascertain the cause, he found that both
pockets were filled with money. Doubly happy, he hastened home, and in
thankfulness he made the next morning an offering of his fiddle to his
Patron Saint, under whose image in the church he hung it as a glorious
relic to be venerated by his children and his children's children for
ever.
Now, the marvellous affair created, as may easily be understood, an
immense sensation in the town. People went to the church to look at the
fiddle; and whenever the lucky musician showed himself in public, a knot
of curious idlers hovered around him, anxious to get a peep at his back.
Moreover, his good fortune, as may likewise be easily understood,
aroused the envy of his rivals in his profession.
The most envious of these professional brothers possessed himself a
tolerably respectable hump, which annoyed him all the more, since he was
not less vain than envious. His estimation of his personal appearance
was, however, exceeded by that of his musical accomplishments.
"How surprised they will be!" said he to himself: "If that wretched
scraper could please them, I am sure I have only to treat them with a
few of my inimitable flourishes, and I shall be a straight man and a man
of property in no time!"
It was at midnight of St. Gerhard's day when the vain virtuoso repaired
to the Fish Market. The old clock of the Minster had already boomed the
last stroke announcing the twelfth hour, when he arrived at the place.
He actually found there a large party of ladies, just as he expected,
and they invited him to play. Confidently he stepped forward, and having
bowed with a smile which he was wont to assume whenever he appeared
before the public, he threw his fiddlestick across the strings and
extemporized a few rapid passages up and down, to show at once his
superior skill. But, how wretchedly provoking! Never in his life had he
produced such miserable tones; they sounded so execrably thin and poor,
as if the strings had been stretched over a piece of solid wood instead
of a violin. Enraged, he renewed his exertions, but only to render the
matter worse; for, now he produced a noise so horribly ear-piercing that
he thought there must be standing behind him a whole chorus of whistling
and screeching sneerers accompanying his performance.
Highly exasperated, he tucked his violin under his arm, and walked up to
the dancing witches. Then boldly addressing one of the richly-attired
ladies, in whom he believed he recognised the wife of the burgomaster of
the town, he said:--
"Ah, Madam! I wonder what your husband, our respected burgomaster would
say if he knew of your night-excursions on the broom-stick! But that is
your own affair. All I care for is my due reward, if you please."
With these words he threw off his jacket and turned round. The lady
quickly uncovered a silver dish, from which she took the hump of the
former musician, and before the vain virtuoso was aware of it, she had
pressed it on his back beside the other hump.
The clock had struck One, and the witches were already on their
broom-sticks riding through the air homewards, when the musician
recovered from his shock. He slowly put his hand to his back, hoping
that perchance he might only have had a bad dream. But no! it was all
right,--or rather all wrong. There remained now nothing for him to do
but to take up his jacket and make the best of his way home. But the
jacket felt so unusually heavy;--could there, perhaps, be gold in it to
make up in some measure for the cruel infliction? Eagerly he rummaged
the pockets; but what should he find? A few heavy stones and
rubbish.[77]