Transcriber's Note: This tale is told by one of the characters (the Goldsmith), to his audience. I've removed all the framing story and the corresponding extra quotation marks. I've also reparagraphed the text for legibility.
I come from my rest to him I love best,
That I may be happy, and he may be blest.
-- Lord Byron.
You all know, my Masters, that the land of Almaine [Germany] is a full wild and strange country,
wherein be vast black forests, with great store of
fierce bears; and truly I think that if the foul fiend wones upon
earth, in that place he dwelleth; for men say there that they have
oftentimes seen him, beside divers other fearful sights, and strange
wonders.
Well, neighbours, when I went to learn the art of Gold-working in outlandish parts, I travelled to Almaine; and at the great and fair City of Nuremburg, I took to my master one Jacob Walch; having for my fellow-prentice that choice Goldsmith, Michel Wolgemuth, who taught the rare painter and graver Albrecht Dürer, that all the world wots [knows] of.
Now in this great City, as ye may well deem, there be many fair Churches, but there was one little, yet goodly, old building, which was more fair to me than all the others. It stood, as I remember,—though perchance it may be ruined now,—in the Reichsstrasse, or King's-street, as we say here, and it had a fair high tower without any window, but from the 'battled top, a broad rent, full wide enow for a man to pass through, ran downwards to the belfrey.
And this rent, though it had oft been walled up, always brake out again as it was before, for men said that there was a pure and holy spell laid under the turret, which never might be done away; and so as it might not be amended, why it was e'en left decayed, by reason of which the Church was called St. Agnes of the Broken Tower, for it was built to the honour of that holy Virgin. Touching this rent, then, my Masters, this tale was wont to be told throughout all the realm, and specially in the great City of Nuremburg.
Of old time the Sexton, or Küster as your Almaine calleth him, lived in the Steeple like Master Absolon here; along with his only daughter Lottchen, or little Charlotte, who grew up to be a passing fair woman, when she fell into deep love with one Ruprecht, one of the Emperor's soldiers. At that time, wete ye well that the Almaine forests were full of robbers and fiends, and another of the Emperor's guards named Reinhold, joined himself to them and became quite a terror to the country; for by the prowess of himself and his band he feared no force, and through his magic craft he recked for no cunning.
Now it so chanced that when Ruprecht and Reinhold were in the wars together, the true soldier saw that his fellow durst go into the thickest of the battle unarmed, for no weapons had any power on him, but edge of sword and point of lance were alike made blunt and turned aside. Thereupon Ruprecht thought within himself, what a brave thing it were if he could do the like; and to that end he asked Reinhold by what art he became so stout a soldier!
"Tush!" said his fellow, "this is but japing to what I can do, an' I list: for after every Friday midnight I have the strength of twenty knights, and the wisdom of twenty sorcerers; but until then my power is daily declining, and for an hour before that time I am even weaker than a common man !"
"And what do you then every Friday at midnight?" asked Ruprecht.
"Make sacrifice to a black goat which I meet in the forest with many others; and if ye list to go with me ye shall do the same."
"Never!" exclaimed Ruprecht, "never, by the honour of a soldier and the faith of a Christian! I defy the foul fiend, and all his followers; and so look ye to it, for by the Holy Rood Holy Rood: Relic alleged to be part of the "True Cross" on which Jesus died. the Emperor hears of this before sunset."
"Ha! ha! ha!" said Reinhold, laughing him to scorn, "remember that last night I renewed my power; and by mid-day I shall be far enow from the Emperor: though perchance Germany may hear of me again, long ere she expect or desire it! and so Guten morgen to you, Mein Herr, Ruprecht!"
Well, then, Masters, upon this Reinhold betook him to the woods, and Ruprecht told his story to the Emperor; but though great guerdon [reward] was offered to such as should take him, it was long ere he might be found of any man. At last the forests became so dangerous with stark robbers, that few cared to enter them; for so was he sure to lose both life and gold in the journey. It was then that Ruprecht bethought him of what Reinhold had said touching his
Friday sacrifice, and his hour of weakness before it was offered; and
he considered, too, that perchance his band might be only a legion of
foul fiends, which might be all dispersed at that time.
So he went to the Emperor, and told him that he had a device for taking Reinhold, and besought him to let him go forth for three days, entreating him that if he did not return he would protect Klaus the Küster of Nuremberg, and his daughter Lottchen. This being promised him, he took a brief farewell of his love, and, having shrived himself, he went forth and entered the wood late on a Friday even.
It is not for me to tell you what foul sights he met with, seeing that he never told them himself; but at last he found Reinhold lying all weak and trembling beneath a Pine-tree, and upon that he called to him to yield himself in the name of God and the Emperor. This follower of the fiend though would not do that, but rose to do battle; and now I cannot avouch whether it were that his demon had left him, or whether it were only his hour of weakness, but this I know, that Ruprecht full soon conquered and slew him. Howbeit neighbours, when Reinhold was dying and knew that it was his fellow-soldier who had quelled him, he cursed himself for having told him his secret, and said,
"Though I now fall by your sabre, because it is mine hour of weakness, I have yet power enow to revenge me;" and so, hatefully spitting on the face of Ruprecht, he fell back and died.
It was a foul dark night that the hardy soldier had to get out of the forest, and direful were the mocking cries and sounds which he heard all around him, as if both robbers and fiends were gibing at him for his labour. Howbeit, though the night seemed somewhat long, he thought that in the morning he got safe to Nuremberg; but upon going into the City, instead of his being welcomed for his valiant daring, I wis that he was received with that fierce cry and bitter gibing which men utter when they seize upon a foe.
"Ah! honest friend," said one,"art there? thou comest full soon to gibbet-mass, I ween."
"Aye," replied another, "I trow that he is e'en tired of the fiend's housekeeping, that he throws away his life thus to be rid on't?"
"Go to," added a third, "thou art shooting wide of the mark, for the fiend will eftsoons have him all to himself, when hemp and gibbet shall have done their office."
And so, my masters, to be brief, he was seized, bound, and carried away to prison on charge of being a foul sorcerer, a stark robber and murderer, a craven deserter, and 'specially for having by wizard arts deflowered Lottchen, the Sexton's daughter, who had died thereof from a broken heart.
"Good neighbours!" said Ruprecht, "what in the Virgin's name is this ye do? I am Ruprecht the Lanzknecht, who went out three days since to destroy Reinhold the Robber; which through the might of St. George I have done, and ye shall find his dead body in the forest, though I missed it in the dark?"
"Thou Ruprecht?" said they, "why he went away a month ago! and belike thou hast slain him. But all men know thee for the Wizard Reinhold, and so away with ye to prison till your fire and faggot be made ready!"
And, now, my Masters, Ruprecht began to look upon his clothes, and found them to be Reinhold's! When he spake, he thought that he yet heard the voice of Reinhold, and as they passed a fair piece of water he saw Reinhold's figure reflected therein! and then he bethought him of the Sorcerer's last words and his spitting at him when he fell; which questionless had power to change him all into another shape.
There was a fearful end before him, and the sorrowful fate of his beloved Lottchen lay heavily at his heart; but he had brief time given him for grieving, for the Emperor sent a command to Nuremberg that he should be prisoned in the turret of St. Agnes' Church, with the door and windows built up around him, and so left to die of cold and famine.
Eftsoons, then, the Emperor's hest was done; Ruprecht was 'mured up in his dark tower; and as ye may well think that a lodging of such dread would work somewhat upon a man's wits, why the soldier sank down at once under his dreariment, and for a while forgot himself, either in a swoon or in slumber.
How all this part of the story was ever made known, is more, neighbours, than I can tell: but if ye will be content to take the tale as I had it, you are to know that he was soon awaked by a gentle sound as of singing; and he deemed, in that wild sense which men have between sleeping and waking, that it was the voice of Lottchen. He started up, as ye may guess, and right before him stood a fair white dove, so sheen and beauteous in its lustre, that it even lighted all around it in that dark prison-house.
Now this sprite, neighbours, was what your Almaine deems to be a good holy guardian-angel, come out of pure love to protect her innocent friend and not a foul spirit that wanders about to fright men from their wits. And it was singing rarely in a passing sweet voice, this rhyme, as it was said by them that told me the story:
Ruprecht, my love, though in tears thou art sleeping,
Thy Lottchen above is a holy watch keeping;
In the gloom of that night which the prison spreads o'er thee,
And the sun's fairest light cannot alter before thee!
Thy faith still she knows through the wizard's delusion,
And the arts of the foes who would work thy confusion.
Mine angel it is, like a dove who hath risen,
To call thee to bliss, and to burst thy dark prison.
Then fear not to leap, though of Death 'tis the hour,
Though the walls may be steep, and though lofty the tower:
The first day and last of thy bondage is dawning,
For thy woes shall be past ere the night melt in morning.
This dove, then, my Masters, had brought along with it that wondrous charm called the Spring-Root which grows in some wild part of the German Forests; for though man never can find it, yet the birds, and specially your Black-Woodpecker, know where to look for it. For mine own part, I think 'tis grown in the great Harz Forest, or on the Brocken Mountain; but come whence it may, men tell you that it hath the power to burst open any portals, be they ever so stoutly locked or barred; and that it will even break down walls, however strong, only by touching them.
So the Dove had no sooner touched one of the turret walls with the Spring-Root, than it was rent open with a loud noise like thunder, and shewed the green little Church-yard sleeping quietly in the moon-light below; but the fairest rays fell upon the grave of Lottchen at the foot of the steeple. Howbeit, whilst Ruprecht was wondering and somewhat awhaped at these selcouth marvels, awhaped: stupified, terrified; selcouth: strange, unusual the dove was suddenly gone; and then the soldier committing himself to St. Agnes, leaped bravely from the broken turret!
When the morn came he was found in his own true shape, but stark dead as ye may guess, lying upon Lottchen's grave, all quiet and smiling; and the same day the Wizard Reinhold's body was taken up in the forest, foully torn by fiends, with Ruprecht's sword lying by him.
Tidings were eftsoons sent to the Emperor, who commanded that the Sorcerer's bones should be burned; that Ruprecht should be buried beside his Lottchen; and that the Church tower should be built up again. But, as I have told ye, my Masters, that might never be done; for men deemed that the Spring-Root was lost somewhere within the tower, and the story goes that it is there to this day.
List of Selected Stories from Tales of An Antiquary, Volume 1
Annotations by Nina Zumel