had to be sure a dark remembrance that I wished to do something bad. I
wished to merit my fate. The laws, I thought, were beneficial to the
world, and therefore I embraced the determination of violating them.
Formerly I had sinned from necessity and levity, now it was from free
choice, and for my own pleasure.
“My first plan was to continue my poaching. Hunting altogether had
gradually become a passion with me, and besides I was forced to live
some way. But this was not all; I was tickled at the thought of
scorning the princely edict, and of injuring my sovereign to the utmost
of my power. I no more feared apprehension, for I had a bullet ready
for my discoverer, and I knew that I should not miss my man. I killed
all the game that came across me, a small quantity of which I sold on
the border, but the greater part I left to rot. I lived miserably,
that I might be able to afford powder and ball. My devastations in the
great hunt were notorious, but suspicion no longer touched me. My
aspect dissipated it: my name was forgotten.
“This kind of life lasted for several months. One morning I had, as
usual rambled through the wood, to follow the track of a deer. I had
wearied myself for two hours in vain, and was already beginning to give
up my prey as lost, when I suddenly discovered it within gun-shot. I
was about to take aim and fire, when I was suddenly startled by the
appearance of a hat which lay on the ground a few paces before me. I
looked closer, and discovered the huntsman Robert, who from behind the
thick trunk of an oak tree was levelling his gun at the very animal
which I had designed to shoot. At this sight a deadly coldness passed
through my bones. Here was the man whom I detested more than any
living thing, and this man within reach of my bullet. At the moment I
felt as if the whole world depended on the firing of my gun, and the
hatred of my whole life seemed concentrated in the tip of the finger
that was to give the fatal pressure to the trigger. An invisible fatal
hand was suspended over me, the index of my destiny pointed irrevocably
to this black minute. My arm trembled, when I allowed my gun the fatal
choice, my teeth chattered as in an ague fit, and my breath, with a
suffocating sensation, was confined in my lungs. For the duration of
one minute did the barrel of the gun waver uncertainly between the man
and the deer, one minute--and one more--and yet one more. It was a
doubtful and obstinate contest between revenge and conscience, but
revenge gained the victory, and the huntsman lay dead on the ground.
“My gun fell as it had been fired. ‘Murderer,’ I stammered out
slowly--the wood was as silent as a churchyard, and I could hear
plainly that I said ‘murderer.’ When I drew nearer, the man had died.
Long did I stand speechless before the corse, when a shrill burst of
laughter came as a relief. ‘Will you keep counsel now, friend?’ said
I, and boldly stepping up to the murdered man, I turned round his face
towards myself. His eyes were wide open. I was serious, and again
became suddenly still. An extraordinary feeling took possession of me.
“Hitherto I had sinned on account of my disgrace, but now something had
happened for which I had not yet atoned. An hour before, I think, no
man could have persuaded me that there was any thing under heaven worse
than myself, whereas, now I began to suspect that my condition an hour
before was, perhaps, an enviable one.
“God’s judgments did not occur to me,--but I had a dim recollection of
sword and cord, and the execution of an infanticide which I saw while a
school-boy. There was something peculiarly terrible to me in the
thought that my life from this moment had become forfeit. More I do
not recollect. My first wish was that Robert was still living. I
endeavoured forcibly to recall to my mind all the wrong that the
deceased had done me during his life,--but strange to say, my memory
seemed to have perished. I could recall nothing of that, which a
quarter of an hour before had impelled me to madness. I did not
understand how I had been induced to commit this murder.
“I was yet standing by the corpse. The crack of some whips, and the
noise of carts, which were passing through the wood, brought me to my
senses. The deed had been committed scarcely a quarter of a mile from
the high road, and I was forced to think of my own safety.
“Unintentionally I strayed deeper into the wood. On the way, it struck
me that the deceased once possessed a watch. I needed money to reach
the border--and yet I lacked courage to return to the spot, where the
dead man lay. A thought of the devil and of an omnipotence of the
deity began to terrify me. However, I summoned all my audacity, and
resolved to set all hell at defiance. I returned to the place. I
found what I had expected, and also money amounting to rather more than
a dollar in a green purse. Just as I was about to put them both up, I
suddenly stopped, and began to reflect. It was no fit of shame, nor
was it the fear of increasing my crime by plunder. I believe it was
out of a spirit of defiance that I flung away the watch, and only kept
half the money. I wished to be taken for a personal enemy of the
murdered man, but not for one who had robbed him.
“I now fled deeper into the wood, which I knew extended four German
miles to the north, and there touched the border of the country. Till
noon I ran breathless. The rapidity of my flight had dissipated the
anguish of my conscience, but the return of that anguish was frightful,
when my strength more and more declined. A thousand hideous forms
passed before me, and struck into my heart, like sharp knives. Between
a life filled with an increasing terror of death, and a violent end,
the awful choice was now left me--and choose I must. I had not the
heart to quit the world by self-destruction, and I was terrified at the
prospect of remaining in it. Fixed as it were between the certain
torments of life, and the uncertain terrors of eternity--unable to live
or to die--I passed the sixth hour of my flight--an hour brimful of
horrors, such as no living man could narrate.
“Slowly--absorbed in myself, and with my hat unconsciously slouched
over my face, as if I wished to conceal myself from the eye of
inanimate nature,--I had insensibly followed a narrow path, which led
me through the deepest part of the thicket--when suddenly a rough
imperious voice called to me, ‘stop.’ The voice was quite close; my
abstraction and the slouched hat had prevented me from looking round.
I raised my eyes and saw a wild man, armed with a great knotted club,
approaching me. His figure was almost gigantic--at least my first
surprise made me think so--and the colour of his skin was a yellow
mulatto sort of black, with which the whiteness of a squinting eye
stood in terrible contrast. Instead of a girdle he had a thick rope
wound twice round a green woollen coat, in which were stuck a broad
knife and a pistol. The cry was repeated, and a powerful arm held me
fast. The sound of a man had frightened me, but the aspect of a
villain gave me new heart. In my present situation, I had cause to
tremble before every honest man, but none to tremble before a robber.
“‘Who is there?’ said the apparition.
“‘One like yourself,’ was my answer, ‘if you really correspond to your
appearance.’
“‘That is not the way out? What are you looking for here?’
“‘What is that to you?’ retorted I, insolently.
“The man considered me twice from top to toe. It seemed as though he
wished to compare my figure with his own, and my answer with my figure.
‘You speak as rudely as a beggar,’ he said at last.
“‘Perhaps so. I was a beggar yesterday.’
“The man laughed. ‘One could swear you did not want to pass for any
thing better now.’
“‘For something worse then.’--I wished to proceed.
“‘Softly friend, why in such a hurry? What time have you to lose?’
“I reflected for a moment. How the words came to my tongue I do not
know. ‘Life is short,’ said I, slowly, ‘and hell lasts for ever!’
“He stared at me. ‘May I be d--d,’ he said at last, ‘if thou hast not
brushed close by a gallows.’
“‘Very possibly. So good bye for the present, comrade!’
“‘_Topp_, comrade!’ he cried, as he drew a tin flask out of his
hunting-pouch, took a good draught from it, and handed it to me.
Flight and anguish had exhausted my energies, and nothing had passed my
lips the whole day. I had already feared that I should have sunk from
exhaustion in this wood, where no refreshment was to be expected for
three miles round. Judge how joyfully I responded to this health.
With the animating draught new strength flowed into my bones, new
courage into my heart, and I felt hope and the love of life. I began
to think that perhaps I was not quite wretched; so much at least was
the welcome beverage all to do. Yes, I must even confess that my
situation approached that of happiness, for at last, after a thousand
vain hopes, I had found a creature who seemed similar to myself. In
the condition to which I had fallen I should have drank good fellowship
with the spirit of evil himself for the sake of having a confidant.
“The man had stretched himself out on the grass. I did the same.
“‘Your liquor has done me good,’ said I. ‘We must become acquainted.’
“He struck fire to light his pipe.
“‘Have you carried on this business long?’
“He looked hard at me. ‘What do you mean by that?’
“‘Has this often been stained with blood?’ I drew the knife from his
girdle.
“‘Who are you?’ said he, in a fearful tone, and he laid down his pipe.
“‘A murderer like you, but only a beginner.’
“The man stared at me, and took up his pipe again. ‘Do you reside
here?’ he said at last.
“‘Three miles off. I am the host of the Sun at ----, of whom perhaps
you have heard.’
“The man sprung up as if possessed. ‘The poacher Wolf,’ he cried
hastily.
“‘The same!’
“‘Welcome, comrade, welcome!’ cried he, and shook my hands violently.
‘That is brave, that I have you at last, mine host of the Sun. Day and
night have I been thinking how to get you. I know you well. I know
all. I have reckoned on you long ago.’
“‘Reckoned on me! For what?’
“‘The whole country round is full of you. You have enemies! A bailiff
has oppressed you, Wolf! They have ruined you, and the wrongs you have
suffered cry aloud to Heaven.’
“The man became warm. ‘Because you have shot a few hogs, which the
prince feeds in our fields they have dragged you about for years in the
house of correction and the fortification, they have robbed you of your
house and business and made you a beggar. Has it come to this,
brother, that a man is worth no more than a hare? Are we not better
than brutes of the field? And a fellow like you could suffer that?’
“‘Could I alter it?’
“‘That we shall see. But tell me, whence do you come, and what do you
purpose?’
“I began to tell him all my history. The man, without waiting till I
had finished it, sprung up with joyous impatience, and drew me after
him. ‘Come, brother host of the Sun,’ said he, ‘now you are ripe, now
I have you when I wanted you. I shall get honour by you. Follow me.’
“‘Where will you take me?’
“‘Do not stop to ask, but follow.’ He then forcibly dragged me along.
“We had proceeded about a quarter of a mile. The wood became more and
more steep, pathless and wild, neither of us uttered a word, until at
last my leader’s whistle startled me out of my meditations. I raised
my eyes, we were standing on the edge of a steep rock, which was bowed
down into a deep cleft. A second whistle answered from the interior
hollow of the rock, and a ladder slowly rose from the abyss, as of its
own accord. My conductor descended first, and told me to wait till he
returned. ‘I must first chain up my dog,’ said he, ‘you are strange
here, and the beast would tear you to pieces.’
“I now stood alone before the abyss, and well I knew that I was alone.
The improvidence of my leader did not escape my attention. It only
required a hearty resolution to draw up the ladder; then I should have
been free, and my flight would have been secure. I confess that I
perceived that. I looked down into the abyss, which was now to receive
me, and it dimly reminded me of the descent into hell, from which there
is no redemption. I began to shudder at the career I was about to
enter; only a rapid flight could save me. I resolved on this flight; I
had already stretched my hand towards the ladder, but at once there was
a thunder in my ears, a noise about me like the scornful laughter of
hell, and it seemed to say: ‘What can a murderer risk?’ My arm fell
back as if paralysed. I had reckoned rightly, the time for repentance
had passed, the murder I had committed lay towering up behind me like a
rock, and cut off my retreat for ever. At the same time my conductor
re-appeared and told me I might come. There was now no longer any
choice. I clambered down.
“We had proceeded some steps, beneath the wall of the rock, when the
ground became wider and some huts were visible. In the midst of these
was a round grass plat, on which about eighteen or twenty persons were
lying round a charcoal fire. ‘Here comrades,’ said my conductor,
placing me in the centre of the circle. ‘Our host of the Sun! Bid him
welcome!’
“‘The host of the Sun!’ cried all at once, and they all--men and
women--rose and pressed round me. Shall I confess it. The joy was
hearty and unaffected, confidence, nay, esteem appeared in every face;
one pressed my hand, another familiarly shook me by my coat--the whole
scene resembled that at the re-appearance of an old and valued friend.
My arrival had interrupted the feast, which they had just begun. They
now continued it, and invited me to pledge the welcome. Game of all
kinds formed the meal, and the wine flask passed without flagging from
hand to hand. Good cheer and unity seemed to animate the entire band,
and the contest among them all was who should show the most extravagant
delight at my arrival.
“They had seated me between two women, which was the post of honour at
the table. I expected to find the refuse of their sex, but how great
was my astonishment when I discovered among this infamous troop the
most beautiful female forms that my eyes had ever beheld. Margaret,
the eldest and most beautiful of the two, was called Miss, and could
scarcely have been five-and-twenty. Her words were very bold, and her
gestures still more so. Maria, the younger, was married, but she had
fled from a husband, who had ill-used her. She was more elegant, but
pale and delicate-looking, and less striking to the eye than her fiery
neighbour. Both women strove hard to excite my passion. The beautiful
Margaret endeavoured to overcome my bashfulness by loose jests, but the
whole woman was repulsive to me, and the bashful Maria had gained my
heart for ever.
“‘You see, brother host of the Sun,’ began the man who had brought me,
‘You see how we live together, and every day is like this one. Is it
not true, comrades?’
“‘Every day like this!’ repeated the whole band.
“‘If, then, you can resolve to find pleasure in our mode of life,
strike a bargain and be our leader. I have held that post hitherto,
but I will give it up to you. Are you content, comrades.’
“A joyful ‘Yes!’ was responded from every throat.
“My head was on fire, my brain was turned, and my blood was boiling
with wine and passion. The world had cast me out as infected with the
plague, but here I found a brotherly reception, honour, and comfort.
Whatever choice I made death awaited me, but here I could at least sell
my life for a higher price. Sensuality was my most violent tendency;
hitherto the other sex had only shown me contempt, but here I should
find favour and boundless enjoyment. My determination cost me but
little. ‘I stay with you, comrades,’ cried I, loudly and resolutely,
and walked into the midst of the band. ‘I remain with you,’ I cried
again, ‘if you will give me my beautiful neighbour.’ All agreed to
grant my request, and I was the declared possessor of a harlot, and
owner of a band of robbers.”
* * * * *
The following part of the history I entirely pass over; the merely
detestable has nothing instructive for the reader. An unfortunate man
who had sunk to this depth, would at last necessarily allow himself all
that raises the indignation of mankind. He did not, however, commit
another murder, as he himself confessed upon the rack.
The fame of this man shortly spread over the entire province. The high
roads became unsafe; the citizens were rendered uneasy by the
burglaries committed in the night; the name of the “Host of the Sun”
became the terror of the country-people, justice searched for him, and
a reward was offered for his head. He was fortunate enough to
frustrate all attempts made against his liberty, and cunning enough to
turn to the account of his safety the superstition of the wonder-loving
peasantry. His comrades had to spread the report that he had made a
compact with the devil, and understood witchcraft. The district in
which he played his part, belonged less at that time than now to the
enlightened part of Germany; the reports were believed, and his person
was secure. No one showed a desire to attack the dangerous fellow who
had the devil at his service.
He had already for a year followed his melancholy profession, when it
began to grow insupportable. The band at whose head he stood, did not
fulfil his brilliant expectations. A seductive exterior had dazzled
him amid the fumes of the wine; now he saw with horror how frightfully
he had been deceived. Hunger and want took the place of that
superfluity by which his senses had been lulled; very often he had to
risk his life on a meal, which was scarcely sufficient to keep him from
starvation. The phantom of that brotherly concord vanished; envy,
suspicion, and jealousy raged among this abandoned crew. Justice had
offered a reward to any one who should deliver him up alive, with a
solemn pardon if he were an accomplice--a powerful temptation for the
dregs of the earth! The unhappy man knew his peril. The honesty of
those who betrayed God and man, was a bad security for his life. From
this moment sleep was gone; a deadly and eternal anguish preyed on his
repose; the hideous spectre of suspicion rattled behind him, wherever
he fled, tortured him when he was awake, lay down by him when he went
to sleep, and scared him with horrible visions. His conscience, which
had been for some time dumb, now recovered its speech, and the adder of
remorse, which had slept, now awoke amid the general storm of his
bosom. All his hatred was now diverted from mankind, and turned its
frightful edge against himself. He now forgave all nature, and found
none but himself to execrate.
Vice had completed its instruction of this unhappy being; his naturally
good sense at last overcame the mournful delusion. Now he felt how low
he had fallen, calm melancholy took the place of grinding despair.
With tears he wished the past were recalled, for now he felt certain
that he could go through it differently. He began to hope that he
might be allowed to become honest, because he felt that he could be so.
At the highest point of his depravity, he was perhaps nearer to
goodness than before his first fault.
About the same time, the seven years’ war had broken out, and
recruiting was going on with vigour. This circumstance inspired the
unhappy man with hope, and he wrote a letter to his sovereign, an
extract of which I insert:
“If your princely favour feels no repugnance towards descending to me,
if criminals of my class are not beyond the sphere of your mercy, grant
me a hearing, I beg of your most serene highness! I am a murderer and
a robber; the law condemns me to death, the tribunals are in search of
me, and I offer myself to serve as a volunteer. But at the same time,
I bring a singular request before your throne. I detest my life, and
do not fear death, but it is terrible for me to die without having
lived. I would live to make reparation for a portion of the past, I
would live to make some atonement to the state, which I have offended.
My execution will be an example to the world, but no compensation for
my deeds. I detest vice, and have a burning desire for integrity and
virtue. I have shown the talents for becoming formidable to my
country--I hope I have some left to be of service to it.
“I know that I am asking something which is unprecedented. My life is
forfeit, and it is not for me to negotiate with justice. But I do not
appear in bonds and fetters before you--I am still free--and fear on my
part has the smallest share in my request.
“It is for mercy that I ask. If I had a claim to justice, I should no
longer venture to assert it. But of one thing I may remind my judge.
The epoch of my crimes begins with the judgment that for ever deprived
me of honour. Had fairness been less denied me on that occasion, I
should not now, perhaps, have stood in need of mercy.
“Show mercy, my prince, instead of justice. If it is in your princely
power to move the law in my favour, then grant me my life. From
henceforth it shall be devoted to your service. If you can do so, let
me learn your gracious will from the public journals, and I will appear
in the metropolis on your word as a prince. If you have resolved
otherwise, let justice do her part, I must do mine.”
This petition remained unanswered, and so did a second, and a third, in
which the applicant asked for a trooper’s place in the prince’s
service. His hopes for a pardon were utterly extinguished, so he
resolved to quit the country, and to die as a brave soldier in the
service of the King of Prussia.
He succeeded in escaping from his land, and began his journey. The
road led him through a little provincial town, where he wished to pass
the night. A short time before, mandates of exceeding strictness had
been published throughout the country, requiring a severe examination
of travellers, because the sovereign, a prince of the empire, had taken
part in the war. The toll-collector (_Thorschreiber_) of this little
town had just received a mandate, and he was sitting on a bench before
the toll-bar, when the “Host of the Sun” came up. The appearance of
this man had in it something comical, and at the same time wild and
terrible. The lean pony which he rode, and the grotesque choice of his
attire, in which his taste had probably been less consulted than the
chronology of his thefts, contrasted singularly enough with a face over
which so many raging passions were spread, like mangled corpses on a
field of battle. The collector was struck by the sight of this strange
wanderer. He had grown grey at the toll-bar, and by attending to his
office for forty years had become an infallible physiognomist of all
the vagabonds about. The falcon-glance of this investigator did not
miss its man on this occasion. He at once fastened the town-gate, and
asked the rider for his passport while he secured his bridle. Wolf was
prepared for chances of this kind, and actually had with him a
passport, which he had taken shortly before while plundering a
merchant. This single voucher, however, did not suffice to counteract
the observation of forty years, and to move the oracle of the toll-bar
to a recantation. He trusted his eyes more than the paper, and Wolf
was obliged to follow him to the office of the bailiff.
The superior of the office examined the passport and declared it
correct. He was an ardent lover of news, and it was his delight to
chatter over the newspaper by his bottle. The passport told him that
the bearer had come straight from those foreign countries, where the
theatre of the war was situated. He hoped to get private intelligence
from the stranger, and sent back a secretary with the passport to
invite him to partake of a bottle of wine.
In the meanwhile the “Host of the Sun” was standing in front of the
office, and the whimsical spectacle had assembled the rabble of the
town in throngs. The people whispered into one another’s ears, pointed
at the horse and rider, till at last the insolence of the mob increased
to a loud tumult. The horse, at which every one pointed, was unluckily
a stolen one, and Wolf fancied that it had been described in placards
and was recognised. The unexpected hospitality of the superior
confirmed his suspicion. He now considered it certain that the falsity
of his passport was discovered, and that the invitation was only a
snare to catch him alive and without resistance. His bad conscience
besotted him, so he clapped spurs to his horse and rode off without
giving a reply.
This sudden flight was the signal for an uproar.