Anne of Geierstein; Or, The Maiden of the Mist. Volume 1 (of 2) Read online

  CHAPTER I.

  The mists boil up around the glaciers; clouds Rise curling fast beneath me, white and sulphurous, Like foam from the roused ocean ... ... I am giddy. _Manfred._

  The course of four centuries has well-nigh elapsed since the series ofevents which are related in the following chapters took place on theContinent. The records which contained the outlines of the history,and might be referred to as proof of its veracity, were long preservedin the superb library of the Monastery of St. Gall, but perished, withmany of the literary treasures of that establishment, when the conventwas plundered by the French revolutionary armies. The events arefixed, by historical date, to the middle of the fifteenthcentury--that important period, when chivalry still shone with asetting ray, soon about to be totally obscured: in some countries, bythe establishment of free institutions; in others, by that ofarbitrary power, which alike rendered useless the interference ofthose self-endowed redressers of wrongs, whose only warrant ofauthority was the sword.

  Amid the general light which had recently shone upon Europe, France,Burgundy, and Italy, but more especially Austria, had been madeacquainted with the character of a people of whose very existence theyhad before been scarcely conscious. It is true, that the inhabitantsof those countries which lie in the vicinity of the Alps, that immensebarrier, were not ignorant that, notwithstanding their rugged anddesolate appearance, the secluded valleys which winded among thosegigantic mountains nourished a race of hunters and shepherds; men who,living in a state of primeval simplicity, compelled from the soil asubsistence gained by severe labour, followed the chase over the mostsavage precipices and through the darkest pine forests, or drove theircattle to spots which afforded them a scanty pasturage, even in thevicinage of eternal snows. But the existence of such a people, orrather of a number of small communities who followed nearly the samepoor and hardy course of life, had seemed to the rich and powerfulprinces in the neighbourhood a matter of as little consequence, as itis to the stately herds which repose in a fertile meadow, that a fewhalf-starved goats find their scanty food among the rocks whichoverlook their rich domain.

  But wonder and attention began to be attracted towards thesemountaineers, about the middle of the fourteenth century, when reportswere spread abroad of severe contests, in which the German chivalry,endeavouring to suppress insurrections among their Alpine vassals,had sustained repeated and bloody defeats, although having on theirside numbers and discipline, and the advantage of the most perfectmilitary equipment then known and confided in. Great was the wonderthat cavalry, which made the only efficient part of the feudal armiesof these ages, should be routed by men on foot; that warriors sheathedin complete steel should be overpowered by naked peasants who wore nodefensive armour, and were irregularly provided with pikes, halberts,and clubs, for the purpose of attack; above all, it seemed a speciesof miracle, that knights and nobles of the highest birth should bedefeated by mountaineers and shepherds. But the repeated victories ofthe Swiss at Laupen, Sempach [_a_],[2] and on other less distinguishedoccasions, plainly intimated that a new principle of civilorganisation, as well as of military movements, had arisen amid thestormy regions of Helvetia.

  Still, although the decisive victories which obtained liberty for theSwiss Cantons, as well as the spirit of resolution and wisdom withwhich the members of the little confederation had maintainedthemselves against the utmost exertions of Austria, had spread theirfame abroad through all the neighbouring countries; and although theythemselves were conscious of the character and actual power whichrepeated victories had acquired for themselves and their country, yetdown to the middle of the fifteenth century, and at a later date, theSwiss retained in a great measure the wisdom, moderation, andsimplicity of their ancient manners; so much so, that those who wereintrusted with the command of the troops of the Republic in battle,were wont to resume the shepherd's staff when they laid down thetruncheon, and, like the Roman dictators, to retire to completeequality with their fellow-citizens, from the eminence of militarycommand to which their talents, and the call of their country, hadraised them.

  It is, then, in the Forest Cantons of Switzerland, in the autumn of1474, while these districts were in the rude and simple state we havedescribed, that our tale opens.

  * * * * *

  Two travellers, one considerably past the prime of life, the otherprobably two or three and twenty years old, had passed the night atthe little town of Lucerne, the capital of the Swiss state of the samename, and beautifully situated on the Lake of the Four Cantons. Theirdress and character seemed those of merchants of a higher class, andwhile they themselves journeyed on foot, the character of the countryrendering that by far the most easy mode of pursuing their route, ayoung peasant lad, from the Italian side of the Alps, followed themwith a sumpter mule, laden apparently with men's wares and baggage,which he sometimes mounted, but more frequently led by the bridle.

  The travellers were uncommonly fine-looking men, and seemed connectedby some very near relationship,--probably that of father and son; forat the little inn where they lodged on the preceding evening, thegreat deference and respect paid by the younger to the elder had notescaped the observation of the natives, who, like other sequesteredbeings, were curious in proportion to the limited means of informationwhich they possessed. They observed also, that the merchants, underpretence of haste, declined opening their bales, or proposing trafficto the inhabitants of Lucerne, alleging in excuse that they had nocommodities fitted for the market. The females of the town were themore displeased with the reserve of the mercantile travellers, becausethey were given to understand that it was occasioned by the wares inwhich they dealt being too costly to find customers among theHelvetian mountains; for it had transpired, by means of theirattendant, that the strangers had visited Venice, and had there mademany purchases of rich commodities, which were brought from India andEgypt to that celebrated emporium, as to the common mart of theWestern World, and thence dispersed into all quarters of Europe. Nowthe Swiss maidens had of late made the discovery that gauds and gemswere fair to look upon, and, though without the hope of being able topossess themselves of such ornaments, they felt a natural desire toreview and handle the rich stores of the merchants, and somedispleasure at being prevented from doing so.

  It was also observed, that though the strangers were sufficientlycourteous in their demeanour, they did not evince that studiousanxiety to please, displayed by the travelling pedlars or merchants ofLombardy or Savoy, by whom the inhabitants of the mountains wereoccasionally visited; and who had been more frequent in their roundsof late years, since the spoils of victory had invested the Swiss withsome wealth, and had taught many of them new wants. Those peripatetictraders were civil and assiduous, as their calling required; but thenew visitors seemed men who were indifferent to traffic, or at leastto such slender gains as could be gathered in Switzerland.

  Curiosity was further excited by the circumstance that they spoke toeach other in a language which was certainly neither German, Italian,nor French, but from which an old man serving in the cabaret, who hadonce been as far as Paris, supposed they might be English; a people ofwhom it was only known in these mountains, that they were a fierceinsular race, at war with the French for many years, and a large bodyof whom had long since invaded the Forest Cantons [_b_], and sustainedsuch a defeat in the valley of Russwyl as was well remembered by thegrey-haired men of Lucerne, who received the tale from their fathers.

  The lad who attended the strangers was soon ascertained to be a youthfrom the Grisons country, who acted as their guide, so far as hisknowledge of the mountains permitted. He said they designed to go toBale, but seemed desirous to travel by circuitous and unfrequentedroutes. The circumstances just mentioned increased the general desireto know more of the travellers and of their merchandise. Not a bale,however, was unpacked, and the merchants, leaving Lucerne nextmorning, resumed their toilsome journey, pref
erring a circuitous routeand bad roads, through the peaceful cantons of Switzerland, toencountering the exactions and rapine of the robber chivalry ofGermany, who, like so many sovereigns, made war each at his ownpleasure, and levied tolls and taxes on every one who passed theirdomains, of a mile's breadth, with all the insolence of pettytyranny.

  For several hours after leaving Lucerne, the journey of our travellerswas successfully prosecuted. The road, though precipitous anddifficult, was rendered interesting by those splendid phenomena, whichno country exhibits in a more astonishing manner than the mountains ofSwitzerland, where the rocky pass, the verdant valley, the broad lake,and the rushing torrent, the attributes of other hills as well asthese, are interspersed with the magnificent and yet fearful horrorsof the glaciers, a feature peculiar to themselves.

  It was not an age in which the beauties or grandeur of a landscapemade much impression either on the minds of those who travelledthrough the country, or who resided in it. To the latter, the objects,however dignified, were familiar, and associated with daily habits andwith daily toil; and the former saw, perhaps, more terror than beautyin the wild region through which they passed, and were rathersolicitous to get safe to their night's quarters, than to comment onthe grandeur of the scenes which lay between them and their place ofrest. Yet our merchants, as they proceeded on their journey, could nothelp being strongly impressed by the character of the scenery aroundthem. Their road lay along the side of the lake, at times level andclose on its very margin, at times rising to a great height on theside of the mountain, and winding along the verge of precipices whichsank down to the water as sharp and sheer as the wall of a castledescending upon the ditch which defends it. At other times ittraversed spots of a milder character,--delightful green slopes, andlowly retired valleys, affording both pasturage and arable ground,sometimes watered by small streams, which winded by the hamlet ofwooden huts with their fantastic little church and steeple, meanderedround the orchard and the mount of vines, and, murmuring gently asthey flowed, found a quiet passage into the lake.

  "That stream, Arthur," said the elder traveller, as with one consentthey stopped to gaze on such a scene as I have described, "resemblesthe life of a good and a happy man."

  "And the brook, which hurries itself headlong down yon distant hill,marking its course by a streak of white foam," answered Arthur,--"whatdoes that resemble?"

  "That of a brave and unfortunate one," replied his father.

  "The torrent for me," said Arthur; "a headlong course which no humanforce can oppose, and then let it be as brief as it is glorious."

  "It is a young man's thought," replied his father; "but I am wellaware that it is so rooted in thy heart, that nothing but the rudehand of adversity can pluck it up."

  "As yet the root clings fast to my heart's strings," said the youngman; "and methinks adversity's hand hath had a fair grasp of it."

  "You speak, my son, of what you little understand," said his father."Know, that till the middle of life be passed, men scarce distinguishtrue prosperity from adversity, or rather they court as the favours offortune what they should more justly regard as the marks of herdispleasure. Look at yonder mountain, which wears on its shaggy brow adiadem of clouds, now raised and now depressed, while the sun glancesupon, but is unable to dispel it;--a child might believe it to be acrown of glory--a man knows it to be the signal of tempest."

  Arthur followed the direction of his father's eye to the dark andshadowy eminence of Mount Pilatus.

  "Is the mist on yonder wild mountain so ominous, then?" asked theyoung man.

  "Demand of Antonio," said his father; "he will tell you the legend."

  The young merchant addressed himself to the Swiss lad who acted astheir attendant, desiring to know the name of the gloomy height,which, in that quarter, seems the leviathan of the huge congregationof mountains assembled about Lucerne.

  The lad crossed himself devoutly, as he recounted the popular legend,that the wicked Pontius Pilate, Proconsul of Judea, had here found thetermination of his impious life; having, after spending years in therecesses of that mountain which bears his name, at length, in remorseand despair rather than in penitence, plunged into the dismal lakewhich occupies the summit. Whether water refused to do theexecutioner's duty upon such a wretch, or whether, his body beingdrowned, his vexed spirit continued to haunt the place where hecommitted suicide, Antonio did not pretend to explain. But a form wasoften, he said, seen to emerge from the gloomy waters, and go throughthe action of one washing his hands; and when he did so, dark cloudsof mist gathered first round the bosom of the Infernal Lake (such ithad been styled of old), and then, wrapping the whole upper part ofthe mountain in darkness, presaged a tempest or hurricane, which wassure to follow in a short space. He added, that the evil spirit waspeculiarly exasperated at the audacity of such strangers as ascendedthe mountain to gaze at his place of punishment, and that, inconsequence, the magistrates of Lucerne had prohibited any one fromapproaching Mount Pilatus, under severe penalties. Antonio once morecrossed himself as he finished his legend; in which act of devotion hewas imitated by his hearers, too good Catholics to entertain any doubtof the truth of the story.

  "How the accursed heathen scowls upon us!" said the younger of themerchants, while the cloud darkened and seemed to settle on the browof Mount Pilatus. "_Vade retro!_ Be thou defied, sinner!"

  A rising wind, rather heard than felt, seemed to groan forth, in thetone of a dying lion, the acceptance of the suffering spirit to therash challenge of the young Englishman. The mountain was seen to senddown its rugged sides thick wreaths of heaving mist, which, rollingthrough the rugged chasms that seamed the grisly hill, resembledtorrents of rushing lava pouring down from a volcano. The ridgyprecipices, which formed the sides of these huge ravines, showed theirsplintery and rugged edges over the vapour, as if dividing from eachother the descending streams of mist which rolled around them. As astrong contrast to this gloomy and threatening scene, the more distantmountain range of Rigi shone brilliant with all the hues of anautumnal sun.

  While the travellers watched this striking and varied contrast, whichresembled an approaching combat betwixt the powers of Light andDarkness, their guide, in his mixed jargon of Italian and German,exhorted them to make haste on their journey. The village to which heproposed to conduct them, he said, was yet distant, the road bad, anddifficult to find, and if the Evil One (looking to Mount Pilatus, andcrossing himself) should send his darkness upon the valley, the pathwould be both doubtful and dangerous. The travellers, thus admonished,gathered the capes of their cloaks close round their throats, pulledtheir bonnets resolvedly over their brows, drew the buckle of thebroad belts which fastened their mantles, and each with a mountainstaff in his hand, well shod with an iron spike, they pursued theirjourney, with unabated strength and undaunted spirit.

  With every step the scenes around them appeared to change. Eachmountain, as if its firm and immutable form were flexible and varying,altered in appearance, like that of a shadowy apparition, as theposition of the strangers relative to them changed with their motions,and as the mist, which continued slowly though constantly to descend,influenced the rugged aspect of the hills and valleys which itshrouded with its vapoury mantle. The nature of their progress, too,never direct, but winding by a narrow path along the sinuosities ofthe valley, and making many a circuit round precipices and otherobstacles which it was impossible to surmount, added to the wildvariety of a journey, in which, at last, the travellers totally lostany vague idea which they had previously entertained concerning thedirection in which the road led them.

  "I would," said the elder, "we had that mystical needle which marinerstalk of, that points ever to the north, and enables them to keep theirway on the waters, when there is neither cape nor headland, sun,moon, nor stars, nor any mark in heaven or earth, to tell them how tosteer."

  "It would scarce avail us among these mountains," answered the youth;"for though that wonderful needle may keep its point to the northernPole-star, when it is on a f
lat surface like the sea, it is not to bethought it would do so when these huge mountains arise like walls,betwixt the steel and the object of its sympathy."

  "I fear me," replied the father, "we shall find our guide, who hasbeen growing hourly more stupid since he left his own valley, asuseless as you suppose the compass would be among the hills of thiswild country.--Canst tell, my boy," said he, addressing Antonio in badItalian, "if we be in the road we purposed?"

  "If it please St. Antonio"--said the guide, who was obviously too muchconfused to answer the question directly.

  "And that water, half covered with mist, which glimmers through thefog, at the foot of this huge black precipice--is it still a part ofthe Lake of Lucerne, or have we lighted upon another since we ascendedthat last hill?"

  Antonio could only answer that they ought to be on the Lake of Lucernestill, and that he hoped that what they saw below them was only awinding branch of the same sheet of water. But he could say nothingwith certainty.

  "Dog of an Italian!" exclaimed the younger traveller, "thou deservestto have thy bones broken, for undertaking a charge which thou art asincapable to perform as thou art to guide us to heaven!"

  "Peace, Arthur," said his father; "if you frighten the lad, he runsoff, and we lose the small advantage we might have by his knowledge;if you use your baton, he rewards you with the stab of a knife,--forsuch is the humour of a revengeful Lombard. Either way, you are marredinstead of helped.--Hark thee hither, my boy," he continued, in hisindifferent Italian, "be not afraid of that hot youngster, whom I willnot permit to injure thee; but tell me, if thou canst, the names ofthe villages by which we are to make our journey to-day."

  The gentle mode in which the elder traveller spoke reassured the lad,who had been somewhat alarmed at the harsh tone and menacingexpressions of his younger companion; and he poured forth, in hispatois, a flood of names, in which the German guttural sounds werestrangely intermixed with the soft accents of the Italian, but whichcarried to the hearer no intelligible information concerning theobject of his question; so that at length he was forced to conclude,"Even lead on, in Our Lady's name, or in St. Antonio's, if you like itbetter: we shall but lose time, I see, in trying to understand eachother."

  They moved on as before, with this difference, that the guide, leadingthe mule, now went first, and was followed by the other two, whosemotions he had formerly directed by calling to them from behind. Theclouds meantime became thicker and thicker, and the mist, which had atfirst been a thin vapour, began now to descend in the form of a smallthick rain, which gathered like dew upon the capotes of thetravellers. Distant rustling and groaning sounds were heard among theremote mountains, similar to those by which the Evil Spirit of MountPilatus had seemed to announce the storm. The boy again pressed hiscompanions to advance, but at the same time threw impediments in theway of their doing so, by the slowness and indecision which he showedin leading them on.

  Having proceeded in this manner for three or four miles, whichuncertainty rendered doubly tedious, the travellers were at lengthengaged in a narrow path, running along the verge of a precipice.Beneath was water, but of what description they could not ascertain.The wind, indeed, which began to be felt in sudden gusts, sometimesswept aside the mist so completely as to show the waves glimmeringbelow; but whether they were those of the same lake on which theirmorning journey had commenced, whether it was another and separatesheet of water of a similar character, or whether it was a river orlarge brook, the view afforded was too indistinct to determine. Thusfar was certain, that they were not on the shores of the Lake ofLucerne, where it displays its usual expanse of waters; for the samehurricane gusts which showed them water in the bottom of the glen gavethem a transient view of the opposite side, at what exact distancethey could not well discern, but near enough to show tall abrupt rocksand shaggy pine-trees, here united in groups, and there singlyanchored among the cliffs which overhung the water. This was a moredistinct landscape than the farther side of the lake would haveoffered, had they been on the right road.

  Hitherto the path, though steep and rugged, was plainly enoughindicated, and showed traces of having been used both by riders andfoot passengers. But suddenly, as Antonio with the loaded mule hadreached a projecting eminence, around the peak of which the path madea sharp turn, he stopped short, with his usual exclamation, addressedto his patron saint. It appeared to Arthur that the mule shared theterrors of the guide; for it started back, put forwards its fore feetseparate from each other, and seemed, by the attitude which itassumed, to intimate a determination to resist every proposal toadvance, at the same time expressing horror and fear at the prospectwhich lay before it.

  Arthur pressed forward, not only from curiosity, but that he might ifpossible bear the brunt of any danger before his father came up toshare it. In less time than we have taken to tell the story, the youngman stood beside Antonio and the mule, upon a platform of rock onwhich the road seemed absolutely to terminate, and from the fartherside of which a precipice sank sheer down, to what depth the mist didnot permit him to discern, but certainly uninterrupted for more thanthree hundred feet.

  The blank expression which overcast the visage of the youngertraveller, and traces of which might be discerned in the physiognomyof the beast of burden, announced alarm and mortification at thisunexpected and, as it seemed, insurmountable obstacle. Nor did thelooks of the father, who presently after came up to the same spot,convey either hope or comfort. He stood with the others gazing on themisty gulf beneath them, and looking all around, but in vain, for somecontinuation of the path, which certainly had never been originallydesigned to terminate in this summary manner. As they stood uncertainwhat to do next, the son in vain attempting to discover some mode ofpassing onward, and the father about to propose that they shouldreturn by the road which had brought them hither, a loud howl of thewind, more wild than they had yet heard, swept down the valley. Allbeing aware of the danger of being hurled from the precarious stationwhich they occupied, snatched at bushes and rocks by which to securethemselves, and even the poor mule seemed to steady itself in order towithstand the approaching hurricane. The gust came with suchunexpected fury that it appeared to the travellers to shake the veryrock on which they stood, and would have swept them from its surfacelike so many dry leaves, had it not been for the momentary precautionswhich they had taken for their safety. But as the wind rushed down theglen, it completely removed for the space of three or four minutes theveil of mist which former gusts had only served to agitate ordiscompose, and showed them the nature and cause of the interruptionwhich they had met with so unexpectedly.

  The rapid but correct eye of Arthur was then able to ascertain thatthe path, after leaving the platform of rock on which they stood, hadoriginally passed upwards in the same direction along the edge of asteep bank of earth, which had then formed the upper covering of astratum of precipitous rocks. But it had chanced, in some of theconvulsions of nature which take place in those wild regions, whereshe works upon a scale so formidable, that the earth had made a slip,or almost a precipitous descent, from the rock, and been hurleddownwards with the path, which was traced along the top, and withbushes, trees, or whatever grew upon it, into the channel of thestream; for such they could now discern the water beneath them to be,and not a lake, or an arm of a lake, as they had hitherto supposed.

  The immediate cause of this phenomenon might probably have been anearthquake, not unfrequent in that country. The bank of earth, now aconfused mass of ruins inverted in its fall, showed some trees growingin a horizontal position, and others, which, having pitched on theirheads in their descent, were at once inverted and shattered to pieces,and lay a sport to the streams of the river which they had heretoforecovered with gloomy shadow. The gaunt precipice which remained behind,like the skeleton of some huge monster divested of its flesh, formedthe wall of a fearful abyss, resembling the face of a newly wroughtquarry, more dismal of aspect from the rawness of its recentformation, and from its being as yet uncovered with any of thevegetation with w
hich nature speedily mantles over the bare surfaceeven of her sternest crags and precipices.

  Besides remarking these appearances, which tended to show that thisinterruption of the road had been of recent occurrence, Arthur wasable to observe, on the farther side of the river, higher up thevalley, and rising out of the pine forests, interspersed with rocks, asquare building of considerable height, like the ruins of a Gothictower. He pointed out this remarkable object to Antonio, and demandedif he knew it; justly conjecturing that, from the peculiarity of thesite, it was a landmark not easily to be forgotten by any who had seenit before. Accordingly, it was gladly and promptly recognised by thelad, who called out cheerfully that the place was Geierstein--that is,as he explained it, the Rock of the Vultures. He knew it, he said, bythe old tower, as well as by a huge pinnacle of rock which arose nearit, almost in the form of a steeple, to the top of which thelammer-geier (one of the largest birds of prey known to exist) had informer days transported the child of an ancient lord of the castle. Heproceeded to recount the vow which was made by the Knight ofGeierstein to Our Lady of Einsiedlen; and, while he spoke, the castle,rocks, woods, and precipices again faded in mist. But as he concludedhis wonderful narrative with the miracle which restored the infantagain to its father's arms, he cried out suddenly, "Look toyourselves--the storm!--the storm!" It came accordingly, and, sweepingthe mist before it, again bestowed on the travellers a view of thehorrors around them.

  "Ay!" quoth Antonio, triumphantly, as the gust abated, "old Pontiusloves little to hear of Our Lady of Einsiedlen; but she will keep herown with him--Ave Maria!"

  "That tower," said the young traveller, "seems uninhabited. I candescry no smoke, and the battlement appears ruinous."

  "It has not been inhabited for many a day," answered the guide. "But Iwould I were at it, for all that. Honest Arnold Biederman, theLandamman [chief magistrate] of the Canton of Unterwalden, dwellsnear, and, I warrant you, distressed strangers will not want the bestthat cupboard and cellar can find them, wherever he holds rule."

  "I have heard of him," said the elder traveller, whom Antonio had beentaught to call Seignor Philipson; "a good and hospitable man, and onewho enjoys deserved weight with his countrymen."

  "You have spoken him right, Seignor," answered the guide: "and I wouldwe could reach his house, where you should be sure of hospitabletreatment, and a good direction for your next day's journey. But howwe are to get to the Vulture's Castle, unless we had wings like thevulture, is a question hard to answer."

  Arthur replied by a daring proposal, which the reader will find in thenext chapter.

  FOOTNOTE:

  [2] See Editor's Notes at the end of the Volume. Wherever a similarreference occurs, the reader will understand that the same directionapplies.