H
ORROR
and fatality
have been stalking abroad in all ages. Why then give a date
to this story I have to tell? Let it suffice to say, that at the period
of which I speak, there existed, in the interior of Hungary, a settled
although hidden belief in the doctrines of the Metempsychosis. Of the
doctrines
themselves — that is, of their falsity, or of their probability — I say
nothing. I assert, however, that much of our incredulity (as La Bruyere
says of all our unhappiness) "
vient de ne pouvoir être seuls."
*
But there are some
points in the Hungarian
superstition
which were fast verging to absurdity. They — the Hungarians — differed
very essentially from their Eastern authorities. For example, "
The
soul,"
said the former — I give the words of an acute and intelligent Parisian
— "
ne demeure qu'un seul fois dans un corps sensible: au reste — un
cheval, un chien, un homme meme, n'est que la ressemblance peu tangible
de ces animaux."
The families of
Berlifitzing and Metzengerstein
had
been at variance for centuries. Never before were two houses so
illustrious,
mutually embittered by hostility so deadly. The origin of this enmity
seems
to be found in the words of an ancient prophecy — "A lofty name shall
have
a fearful fall when, as the
[page
476:] rider over his horse, the mortality of Metzengerstein
shall triumph over the immortality of Berlifitzing."
To be sure the words
themselves had little or no
meaning. But more trivial causes have given rise — and that no long
while
ago — to consequences equally eventful. Besides, the estates, which
were
contiguous, had long exercised a rival influence in the affairs of a
busy
government. Moreover, near neighbors are seldom friends; and the
inhabitants
of the Castle Berlifitzing might look, from their lofty buttresses,
into
the very windows of the Palace Metzengerstein. Least of all had the
more
than feudal magnificence, thus discovered, a tendency to allay the
irritable
feelings of the less ancient and less wealthy Berlifitzings. What
wonder,
then, that the words, however silly, of that prediction, should have
succeeded
in setting and keeping at variance two families already predisposed to
quarrel by every instigation of hereditary jealousy? The prophecy
seemed
to imply — if it implied anything — a final triumph on the part of the
already more powerful house; and was of course remembered with the more
bitter animosity by the weaker and less influential.
Wilhelm, Count
Berlifitzing, although loftily
descended,
was, at the epoch of this narrative, an infirm and doting old man,
remarkable
for nothing but an inordinate and inveterate personal antipathy to the
family of his rival, and so passionate a love of horses, and of
hunting,
that neither bodily infirmity, great age, nor mental incapacity,
prevented
his daily participation in the dangers of the chase.
Frederick, Baron
Metzengerstein, was, on the
other
hand, not yet of age. His father, the Minister G——, died young. His
mother, the Lady Mary, followed him quickly. Frederick was, at that
time, in his eighteenth year. In a city, eighteen years are no long
period; but in a wilderness
— in so magnificent a wilderness as that old principality, the pendulum
vibrates with a deeper meaning.
From some peculiar
circumstances attending the
administration
of his father, the young Baron, at the decease of the former, entered
immediately
upon his vast possessions. Such estates were seldom held before by a
nobleman
of Hungary. His castles were without number. The chief in point of
splendor
and extent was
[page 477:] the
"Palace Metzengerstein." The boundary line of his dominions
was never clearly defined; but his principal park embraced a circuit of
fifty miles.
Upon the succession
of a proprietor so young,
with
a character so well known, to a fortune so unparalleled, little
speculation
was afloat in regard to his probable course of conduct. And, indeed,
for
the space of three days, the behavior of the heir out-heroded Herod,
and
fairly surpassed the expectations of his most enthusiastic admirers.
Shameful
debaucheries — flagrant treacheries — unheard-of atrocities — gave his
trembling vassals quickly to understand that no servile submission on
their
part — no punctilios of conscience on his own — were thenceforward to
prove
any security against the remorseless fangs of a petty Caligula. On the
night of the fourth day, the stables of the Castle Berlifitzing were
discovered
to be on fire; and the unanimous opinion of the neighborhood added the
crime of the incendiary to the already hideous list of the Baron's
misdemeanors
and enormities.
But during the tumult
occasioned by this
occurrence,
the young nobleman himself sat apparently buried in meditation, in a
vast
and desolate upper apartment of the family palace of Metzengerstein.
The
rich although faded tapestry hangings which swung gloomily upon the
walls,
represented the shadowy and majestic forms of a thousand illustrious
ancestors.
Here, rich-ermined priests, and pontifical
dignitaries,
familiarly
seated with the autocrat and the sovereign, put a veto on the wishes of
a temporal king, or restrained with the fiat of papal supremacy the
rebellious
sceptre of the Arch-enemy.
There, the dark, tall statures of
the
Princes Metzengerstein — their muscular war-coursers plunging over the
carcasses of fallen foes — startled the steadiest nerves with their
vigorous
expression; and
here, again, the voluptuous and swan-like
figures
of the dames of days gone by, floated away in the mazes of an unreal
dance
to the strains of imaginary melody.
But as the Baron
listened, or affected to listen,
to the gradually increasing uproar in the stables of Berlifitzing — or
perhaps pondered upon some more novel, some more decided act of
audacity
— his eyes were turned unwittingly to the figure of an enormous, and
unnaturally colored horse, represented in the tapestry as belonging to
a Saracen ancestor of the family of his rival. The
[page 478:] horse itself, in the
fore-ground of the design, stood motionless and statue-like — while,
farther
back, its discomfited rider perished by the dagger of a Metzengerstein.
On Frederick's lip
arose a fiendish expression,
as
he became aware of the direction which his glance had, without his
consciousness,
assumed. Yet he did not remove it. On the contrary, he could by no
means
account for the overwhelming anxiety which appeared falling like a pall
upon his senses. It was with difficulty that he reconciled his dreamy
and
incoherent feelings with the certainty of being awake. The longer he
gazed,
the more absorbing became the spell — the more impossible did it appear
that he could ever withdraw his glance from the fascination of that
tapestry.
But the tumult without becoming suddenly more violent, with a
compulsory
exertion he diverted his attention to the glare of ruddy light thrown
full
by the flaming stables upon the windows of the apartment.
The action, however,
was but momentary; his gaze
returned mechanically to the wall. To his extreme horror and
astonishment,
the head of the gigantic steed had, in the meantime, altered its
position.
The neck of the animal, before arched, as if in compassion, over the
prostrate
body of its lord, was now extended, at full length, in the direction of
the Baron. The eyes, before invisible, now wore an energetic and human
expression, while they gleamed with a fiery and unusual red; and the
distended
lips of the apparently enraged horse left in full view his sepulchral
and
disgusting teeth.
Stupified with
terror, the young nobleman
tottered
to the door. As he threw it open, a flash of red light, streaming far
into
the chamber, flung his shadow with a clear outline against the
quivering
tapestry; and he shuddered to perceive that shadow — as he staggered
awhile
upon the threshold — assuming the exact position, and precisely filling
up the contour, of the relentless and triumphant murderer of the
Saracen
Berlifitzing.
To lighten the
depression of his spirits, the
Baron
hurried into the open air. At the principal gate of the palace he
encountered
three equerries. With much difficulty, and at the imminent peril of
their
lives, they were restraining the convulsive plunges of a gigantic and
fiery-colored
horse.
[page 479:]
"Whose horse? Where
did you get him?" demanded
the
youth, in a querulous and husky tone, as he became instantly aware
that the mysterious steed in the tapestried chamber was the very
counterpart
of the furious animal before his eyes.
"He is your own
property, sire," replied one of
the
equerries, "at least he is claimed by no other owner. We caught him
flying,
all smoking and foaming with rage, from the burning stables of the
Castle
Berlifitzing. Supposing him to have belonged to the old Count's stud of
foreign horses, we led him back as an estray. But the grooms there
disclaim
any title to the creature; which is strange, since he bears evident
marks
of having made a narrow escape from the flames.
"The letters W. V. B.
are also branded very
distinctly
on his forehead," interrupted a second equerry, "I supposed them, of
course,
to be the initials of Wilhelm Von Berlifitzing — but all at the castle
are positive in denying any knowledge of the horse."
"Extremely singular!"
said the young Baron, with
a musing air, and apparently unconscious of the meaning of his words.
"He
is, as you say, a remarkable horse — a prodigious horse! although, as
you
very justly observe, of a suspicious and untractable character; let him
be mine, however," he added, after a pause, "perhaps a rider like
Frederick
of Metzengerstein, may tame even the devil from the stables of
Berlifitzing."
"You are mistaken, my
lord; the horse, as I think
we mentioned, is
not from the stables of the Count. If such had
been the case, we know our duty better than to bring him into the
presence
of a noble of your family."
"True!" observed the
Baron, drily; and at that
instant
a page of the bed-chamber came from the palace with a heightened color,
and a precipitate step. He whispered into his master's ear an account
of
the sudden disappearance of a small portion of the tapestry, in an
apartment
which he designated; entering, at the same time, into particulars of a
minute and circumstantial character; but from the low tone of voice in
which these latter were communicated, nothing escaped to gratify the
excited
curiosity of the equerries.
The young Frederick,
during the conference,
seemed
agitated by a variety of emotions. He soon, however, recovered his
composure,
[page 480:] and an
expression of determined malignancy settled upon his countenance,
as he gave peremptory orders that the apartment in question should be
immediately
locked up, and the key placed in his own possession.
"Have you heard of
the unhappy death of the old
hunter
Berlifitzing?" said one of his vassals to the Baron, as, after the
departure
of the page, the huge steed which that nobleman had adopted as his own,
plunged and curveted, with redoubled fury, down the long avenue which
extended from the palace to the stables of Metzengerstein.
"No!" said the Baron,
turning abruptly toward the
speaker, "dead! say you?"
"It is indeed true,
my lord; and, to the noble of
your
name, will be, I imagine, no unwelcome intelligence."
A rapid smile shot
over the countenance of the
listener.
"How died he?"
"In his rash
exertions to rescue a favorite
portion
of his hunting stud, he has himself perished miserably in the flames."
"I-n-d-e-e-d-!"
ejaculated the Baron, as if
slowly
and deliberately impressed with the truth of some exciting idea.
"Indeed;" repeated
the vassal.
"Shocking!" said the
youth, calmly, and turned
quietly
into the palace.
From this date a
marked alteration took place in
the outward demeanor of the dissolute young Baron Frederick Von
Metzengerstein.
Indeed, his behaviour disappointed every expectation, and proved little
in accordance with the views of many a manœuvering mamma; while his
habits
and manner, still less than formerly, offered anything congenial with
those of the neighboring aristocracy. He was never to be seen beyond
the
limits of his own domain, and, in this wide and social world, was
utterly
companionless — unless, indeed, that unnatural, impetuous, and
fiery-colored
horse, which he henceforward continually bestrode, had any mysterious
right
to the title of his friend.
Numerous invitations
on the part of the
neighborhood
for a long time, however, periodically came in. "Will the Baron honor
our
festivals with his presence?" "Will the Baron join us in a hunting of
the
boar?" — "Metzengerstein does not hunt;" "Metzengerstein
[page 481:] will not attend,"
were the haughty and laconic answers.
These repeated
insults were not to be endured by
an imperious nobility. Such invitations became less cordial — less
frequent
— in time they ceased altogether. The widow of the unfortunate Count
Berlifitzing
was even heard to express a hope "that the Baron might be at home when
he did not wish to be at home, since he disdained the company of his
equals;
and ride when he did not wish to ride, since he preferred the society
of
a horse." This to be sure was a very silly explosion of hereditary
pique;
and merely proved how singularly unmeaning our sayings are apt to
become,
when we desire to be unusually energetic.
The charitable,
nevertheless, attributed the
alteration
in the conduct of the young nobleman to the natural sorrow of a son for
the untimely loss of his parents; — forgetting, however, his atrocious
and
reckless behavior during the short period immediately succeeding that
bereavement.
Some there were, indeed, who suggested a too haughty idea of
self-consequence
and dignity. Others again (among them may be mentioned the family
physician)
did not hesitate in speaking of morbid melancholy, and hereditary
ill-health;
while dark hints, of a more equivocal nature, were current among the
multitude.
Indeed, the Baron's
perverse attachment to his
lately-acquired
charger — an attachment which seemed to attain new strength from every
fresh example of the animal's ferocious and demon-like propensities —
at
length became, in the eyes of all reasonable men, a hideous and
unnatural
fervor. In the glare of noon — at the dead hour of night — in sickness
or in health — in calm or in tempest — the young Metzengerstein seemed
riveted to the saddle of that colossal horse, whose intractable
audacities
so well accorded with his own spirit.
There were
circumstances, moreover, which coupled
with late events, gave an unearthly and portentous character to the
mania
of the rider, and to the capabilities of the steed. The space passed
over
in a single leap had been accurately measured, and was found to exceed
by an astounding difference, the wildest expectations of the most
imaginative.
The Baron, besides, had no particular
name for the animal,
although
all the rest in his collection
[page
482:] were distinguished by characteristic appellations.
His stable, too, was appointed at a distance from the rest; and with
regard
to grooming and other necessary offices, none but the owner in person
had
ventured to officiate, or even to enter the enclosure of that
particular
stall. It was also to be observed, that although the three grooms, who
had caught the steed as he fled from the conflagration at Berlifitzing,
had succeeded in arresting his course, by means of a chain-bridle and
noose
— yet no one of the three could with any certainty affirm that he had,
during that dangerous struggle, or at any period thereafter, actually
placed
his hand upon the body of the beast. Instances of peculiar intelligence
in the demeanor of a noble and high-spirited horse are not to be
supposed
capable of exciting unreasonable attention, but there were certain
circumstances which
intruded themselves per force upon the most skeptical and phlegmatic;
and
it is said there were times when the animal caused the gaping crowd who
stood around to recoil in horror from the deep and impressive meaning
of
his terrible stamp — times when the young Metzengerstein turned pale
and
shrunk away from the rapid and searching expression of his earnest and
human-looking eye.
Among all the retinue
of the Baron, however, none
were found to doubt the ardor of that extraordinary affection which
existed
on the part of the young nobleman for the fiery qualities of his horse;
at least, none but an insignificant and misshapen little page, whose
deformities
were in every body's way, and whose opinions were of the least possible
importance. He (if his ideas are worth mentioning at all,) had the
effrontery
to assert that his master never vaulted into the saddle without an
unaccountable
and almost imperceptible shudder; and that, upon his return from every
long-continued and habitual ride, an expression of triumphant malignity
distorted every muscle in his countenance.
One tempestuous
night, Metzengerstein, awaking
from
a heavy slumber, descended like a maniac from his chamber, and,
mounting
in hot haste, bounded away into the mazes of the forest. An occurrence
so common attracted no particular attention, but his return was looked
for with intense anxiety on the part of his domestics, when, after some
hours' absence, the stupendous and magnificent battlements of the
Palace
Metzengerstein, were discovered
[page
483:] crackling and rocking to their very foundation,
under the influence of a dense and livid mass of ungovernable fire.
As the flames, when
first seen, had already made
so terrible a progress that all efforts to save any portion of the
building
were evidently futile, the astonished neighborhood stood idly around in
silent, if not apathetic wonder. But a new and fearful object soon
riveted
the attention of the multitude, and proved how much more intense is the
excitement wrought in the feelings of a crowd by the contemplation of
human
agony, than that brought about by the most appalling spectacles of
inanimate
matter.
Up the long avenue of
aged oaks which led from
the
forest to the main entrance of the Palace Metzengerstein, a steed,
bearing
an unbonneted and disordered rider, was seen leaping with an
impetuosity
which outstripped the very Demon of the Tempest.
The career of the
horseman was indisputably, on
his
own part, uncontrollable. The agony of his countenance, the convulsive
struggle of his frame, gave evidence of superhuman exertion: but no
sound,
save a solitary shriek, escaped from his lacerated lips, which were
bitten
through and through in the intensity of terror. One instant, and the
clattering
of hoofs resounded sharply and shrilly above the roaring of the flames
and the shrieking of the winds — another, and, clearing at a single
plunge
the gate-way and the moat, the steed bounded far up the tottering
staircases
of the palace, and, with its rider, disappeared amid the whirlwind of
chaotic
fire.
The fury of the
tempest immediately died away,
and
a dead calm sullenly succeeded. A white flame still enveloped the
building
like a shroud, and, streaming far away into the quiet atmosphere, shot
forth a glare of preternatural light; while a cloud of smoke settled
heavily
over the battlements in the distinct colossal figure of —
a horse.