An Adventure in the Oden Wald—The Coiners of the Black
Forest—Kirchhofer’s School
When I was seven years old, my parents left me at a school in Frankfurt,
kept by Herr Kirchhofer, a good-looking, fair-haired man of thirty-five.
He was married and had an only son named August, who in later years
entered the Austrian Army, and got terribly into debt when a lieutenant.
His father paid his debts, but after he married he got into further
trouble, and ended by shooting himself, while still quite young.
During my stay at this school I spoke nothing but German all day, with
the exception of a little French occasionally, and, in consequence,
completely forgot the English language for the time being.
One day, Herr Kirchhofer told one of the assistant masters, Herr Wolf, a
young man of five-and-twenty, that he might take six of the boys, of whom
I was one, for a three days’ excursion in the Oden Wald. We started at
five o’clock in the morning and walked for some hours, when I became so
tired that I could go no farther. So Close, an English boy of eighteen,
who was going into the Austrian Army, and another boy, a German, carried
me on a kind of camp-stool a long way.
When we got to the Oden Wald, we wandered about collecting plants, which
Herr Wolf required for his lessons in botany. Then, after dining at an
inn, we started again, with the intention of reaching a village which
the master knew by name. On the way we passed a small village, where a
man offered to take charge of me, and I was very much afraid our master
would leave me with him. I begged him not to do so, and was greatly
relieved when he said:
“You don’t think I should be so foolish? Why, the man might run off with
you.”
Some time afterwards, it began to grow quite dark, and Herr Wolf became
much alarmed, as we had completely lost our way in the forest. However,
we saw some lights in the distance, and walked on until we came to a
small village, where there was a house which purported to be an inn,
though all its windows were broken and mended with pieces of newspaper.
Herr Wolf entered this uninviting hostelry and inquired if we could
have one large room to sleep in, as he told Close and another big boy,
a German, that he was afraid that we might possibly be murdered in the
night, if we were separated. I may here mention that, in those days, some
parts of the Oden Wald were infested by gangs of robbers, and instances
were known of people being given beds which revolved in the night and
precipitated their unfortunate occupants into pits beneath the floor.
The inn-keeper, a sinister-looking personage, with his face almost
entirely covered with hair, said that he had not a room large enough to
accommodate our whole party, but that we could have two rooms. Herr Wolf
asked if they were near each other, to which the man replied that one was
upstairs, but the other on the ground floor. The master, looking much
annoyed, asked to see the rooms, and, after inspecting them, inquired
if Close had a revolver with him. The latter said he had not, though he
had brought a sword-stick. But another boy, an American, called Sydney
Chapin, exclaimed:—
“I have a loaded revolver with me.”
“That’s famous!” replied Herr Wolf. “Then you must give it me, for I will
occupy the room on the ground floor with George, and you others must
sleep upstairs.”
The master then took the revolver, and told Close that he must take
charge of the other boys in the room upstairs.
When this had been arranged, we all entered the so-called dining-room,
a large room, with whitewashed walls. Its windows, like all the rest in
the house, were broken and patched with newspapers; the ceiling was so
low that you could almost touch it with your hands, and crossed by large
beams. In one part of this room, four rough-looking men were playing
cards and drinking beer out of mugs. They were in their shirt sleeves,
with sleeves tucked up to the elbow, displaying very muscular arms, while
their shirts, open at the neck, showed their naked chests covered with
hair. Although it was summer and excessively hot, all of them wore fur
caps.
They were playing by the glimmer of a solitary tallow candle, which was
the only light in the room, and when we took our seats with our master
at another table, we found ourselves almost in the dark. Presently, our
supper was brought us, consisting of cold meat and mugs of beer, and Herr
Wolf asked for a candle. The inn-keeper muttered sullenly that he had
none.
“What! Have you no light of any description?” asked the master.
“No, I have just told you so,” was the reply.
Herr Wolf was visibly alarmed, but Close whispered to him:—
“I have a box of matches.”
“_Gott sei dank!_” exclaimed the other.
After some whispered instructions to Close, the master rose from the
table, when I observed the card-players casting surreptitious glances in
our direction, although they pretended to be absorbed in their game. Herr
Wolf then took me through the darkness into the bedroom on the ground
floor, the gloom of which was partially relieved by a slight glimmer from
the moon, which penetrated through the broken window. He struck a match,
and, having shown me my bed, which stood near the window, told me to
undress and go to bed. I did as he told me, and he then said that he was
going upstairs to see after the other boys.
[Illustration: The Author’s Daughter.
[_To face p. 20._]
While I lay in bed, I heard some noisy women passing the window. One
of them put her head through one of the broken panes, and, on seeing me
in bed, burst out laughing. Afterwards there was a dead silence, only
interrupted occasionally by the loud oaths of the men playing cards in
the dining-room, who appeared to be disputing about some money which had
changed hands. The noise they made was becoming louder and louder, when I
heard the door open, and Herr Wolf entered and inquired if I were asleep.
He then went out again, saying that he would return later. The noise made
by the gamblers then appeared to cease, and my weariness overcoming my
fears, I suddenly dropped off to sleep.
Early in the morning I awoke, and saw Herr Wolf dressing himself. I
hardly knew where I was, when, on seeing that I was awake, he said:—
“_Du bist famos geschlafen, George._”
After I had dressed, he told me to come with him into the dining-room,
where all the others were gathered, and, after taking some coffee and
black bread, we left the inn. Soon afterwards, Herr Wolf told the boys
that he had never been so alarmed in his life, and that he was quite
positive that if the men at the inn had not known that some of the boys
were armed, we should most probably have been murdered for the sake of
our clothes and the money we had about us. He added that he had not
slept a wink all night, as he knew what sort of men he had to deal with,
and that they were of the very lowest type imaginable and capable of
committing any crime to obtain a few groschen.
At the time of which I am speaking, there were so many murders
perpetrated near Homburg, owing to the gambling which went on there, that
the police never knew whether they had really to deal with a suicide or
a murder. The Oden Wald had then quite as bad a reputation as the Black
Forest, which was infested by whole gangs of robbers and murderers. Herr
Wolf told us a story of a man who, having lost his way in the Oden Wald,
put up for the night at a small inn near a village, where they gave
him some coffee before he went to bed. He could not sleep, and in the
middle of the night he got up, lighted a candle and began examining a
picture opposite his bed, which represented a man wearing a Rembrandt
hat with a long feather. Gradually, it seemed to him that the feather
was becoming shorter; soon he could see only a part of the hat, and
then merely the face. The man, thinking that there must be something
wrong with him, jumped out of bed and approached the picture, which he
found was exactly as when he had first seen it. But, on looking at his
bed, he perceived that the baldachin over the four-poster was suspended
by a chain from above the ceiling, and was gradually working its way
downwards. An examination of the moving baldachin revealed the fact that
it was made of massive iron, beneath which he would infallibly have been
crushed to death. Dressing in all haste, and holding a pistol which he
had about him ready to fire in case of need, the destined victim left the
room and stealthily descended the stairs. By good fortune he met no one,
and letting himself out of the house, made his way to Homburg, where he
informed the police of the murderous trap which had been laid for him.
It was evident that the coffee which he had drank overnight had been
drugged; but, most providentially for him, the drug had had the contrary
effect to that intended, and had kept him awake, instead of sending him
to sleep.
Herr Wolf told us other stories of the Black Forest, in which there were
inns with revolving beds, which upset the persons who occupied them into
pits beneath the floor, where the heavy fall generally killed them at
once; and Baron Vogelsang, a good-looking Bavarian boy, with blue eyes
and curly brown hair, related the following anecdote:
During the time of the great Napoleon,[6] the Emperor sent on one of
his aides-de-camp to Germany with important despatches. This A.D.C. had
to traverse the Black Forest, and on arriving as evening was falling
at a certain country house, asked if he could be accommodated for the
night. A room was given him, but, at the same time, he was warned that
the house was haunted, and, sure enough, in the middle of the night a
ghost duly put in an appearance. The Frenchman, who had no belief in
the supernatural, promptly snatched up a pistol and levelled it at the
spectre, who thereupon vanished. The A.D.C. then hurried to the spot
where the ghost had first appeared, when the floor suddenly gave way
beneath him, and he fell what seemed a great distance. For the moment he
was stunned by the fall, and, on recovering his senses, found himself
surrounded by a number of men, who were debating whether they should kill
him. He, however, explained who he was, and showed them the despatches
from Napoleon of which he was the bearer; and the men, fearing the
vengeance of the Emperor, should the crime they were meditating ever be
discovered, agreed to set him at liberty, on condition that he would
take an oath to say nothing of what had happened to him in that house.
They then told him that they were coiners, and that they killed everyone
who slept at the house, but that they usually frightened so many away
by tales that very few people cared to stop there. The Frenchman took
the oath demanded of him, and was set at liberty so soon as day came.
Years afterwards, he received a magnificent pistol, set with brilliants
and rubies, with the following inscription engraved upon it: “From those
whose secret you have so generously kept.” The gift was accompanied by a
letter, informing him that the coiners, having now succeeded in amassing
an immense fortune, had retired from business.
The day after our adventure at the inn was passed by our party in walking
leisurely through the forest homewards, through a most glorious country
and in most lovely weather. When we reached Frankfurt, Herr Kirchhofer
congratulated Herr Wolf on our escape, and told him that it was very
lucky that we had returned at all.
Herr Wolf saw me in after days at Frankfurt, when he kissed me in German
fashion, saying: “_Kannst Du Dich erinnern von damals im Oden Walde,
George?_” I thought it was our last day upon earth, and that we were
going to be murdered there, like many others have been there before and
even since those days. But I pretended not to be alarmed at the time, and
made the best of it.
The time—rather more than a year and a half—I spent at this school at
Frankfurt was one of the happiest periods of my life; indeed, when my
parents wanted me to stay at the Hôtel de Russie, I cried and begged not
to be taken away from the school. Herr Kirchhofer was a very pleasant,
kind and good-hearted man, and a fine orator, one of the best I have ever
heard; and the lectures which he used to give on ancient Greek history
were always extremely interesting. His lectures were always extempore, as
his excellent memory made it unnecessary for him to refer to a book, and
the way he declaimed was a pleasure to listen to, so well did he raise or
lower his voice to suit the occasion. At times he became very dramatic,
putting you in mind of some celebrated actor on the stage, as he walked
up and down the room, reciting from the classics and quite carrying away
his audience. The only punishment inflicted on boys at this school was to
shake them and smack their faces, which Herr Kirchhofer did himself, as
well as the other masters, of whom there were eight or nine, although the
school consisted only of ten boarders and fifty day-boarders.
German and Austrian boys find more pleasure in taking long walks in
the woods, making excursions, and running about than they do in games
like football and cricket, for which few, if any, have any taste. In
fact, I never knew any boys in Germany who cared much for any outdoor
games at all. However, I have not the slightest doubt they enjoy their
school-days quite as much as English boys, if not more; and there is
much more friendship between master and boys in Germany than there ever
can be in England. In the former country, the master devotes more time
to ascertaining the tastes of individual boys, and addresses them
more like a friend than a master. When, afterwards, I was sent to an
English school, I noticed the difference almost at once. At the school
at Frankfurt I was most interested in the history of ancient Greece; I
was also fond of German history. Latin was not taught there, for which
I was by no means sorry. I had no great fancy for botany, though I
tried to like it; but natural science rather piqued my curiosity. As
for arithmetic, I hated it, and never knew the value of money; in fact,
I don’t remember ever having any at that time, nor ever asking for
any, as I had everything I required bought for me. I had a fancy for
collecting stamps, and, in those days, there was a regular stamp market
at Frankfurt, where they were sold in the street. I went there on one
occasion, but was not very favourably impressed by the Jew dealers who
hawked them about.
I was passionately fond of tin soldiers, and used to play with them with
a boy named Louis Krebs, who had a fine collection of both Austrian and
Prussian ones. He had a pretty little sister called Klara, who always
wore pink coral earrings and would often play with us.
One day, Herr Kirchhofer told me that my parents were going to England
and that they had arranged to take me with them. At first, I was quite
unable to realize it, but when I learned that the news was true I was
greatly distressed, and nearly cried my eyes out at having to leave
Frankfurt and the school. I tried to prevail upon my parents to leave me
behind, but my father would not hear of it, saying that I should have to
go to a preparatory school for Eton, and that he had one in view, which
my aunt, Lady Caroline Murray, had recommended. So I was forced, _malgré
moi_, to submit to my parents’ wishes.
In recent years I met Krebs, the boy of whom I have just spoken, at
Frankfurt, when he gave me a great deal of information about those who
had been at school with us. He himself had become a millionaire; but he
was the only one who had made money. Most of the others had been far from
successful in life, and one of the wealthiest, Baron Vogelsang, had
lost almost the whole of his immense fortune. Many had died quite young.
Herr Kirchhofer had only lived a few months after the suicide of his son
August, and Herr Wolf had also died while still quite a young man.