But the peasants felt easier with every beech-tree that was planted up on top, for with every tree grew the hope that their lord would be satisfied and the green huntsman deceived; after all, he had no guarantee, and once the hundredth tree was up there, what did they care about the green huntsman? Nevertheless they were still certain about the matter; every day they were afraid that he might play them a trick and leave them in the lurch. On May 25th, St. Urban’s day, they brought him the last beeches to the Kilchstalden, and neither old nor young slept much that night; it was scarcely believable that he would complete the work without making some trouble, if he were without a child or any surety. The next morning old and young were up long before sunrise, for everybody was impelled by the same inquisitive anxiety; but it was a long time before anybody ventured to the place where the beech-trees had been put; perhaps there would be some trap there for those who wished to deceive the green huntsman.
A wild cowheard who had brought goats down from high mountain pasture finally dared to go forward; he found no beech-trees lying on the ground, nor could any trace of trickery be perceived at that spot. They still had no trust in the business; the cowheard had to go ahead of them to Bärhegen. There everything was in order, a hundred beech-trees stood in full array, none was withered, nobody’s face swelled up, nobody had pains in any limb. Then their hearts became exultant, and much mockery could be heard at the expense of the green huntsman and the knights. For the third time they sent out the wild cowherd and had him inform von Stoffeln that everything was now in order on Bärhegen, and that he might like to come and count the beech-trees. But von Stoffeln felt terrified, and he sent them the message that they should see to it that they went home. He would have gladly told them to remove the whole avenue of trees, but he did not do this on account of his knights; he did not know about the peasants’ compact, and who it was who might intervene in the business.
When the cowherd brought the message, hearts swelled yet more with defiance; wild youths danced in the avenue, a wild yodelling resounded from ravine to ravine, from one mountain to another, and re-echoed from the walls of Sumiswald castle. Thoughtful older people admonished and pleaded, but defiant hearts do not pay attention to the warnings of cautious old age; and then once the misfortune has come about, the old people are blamed for it on account of their hesitation and warnings. The time has not yet come when it is recognized that when defiance stamps its foot, misfortune grows forth from the ground. The rejoicing spread over hill and vale into all the houses; and wherever a finger’s length of smoked meat remained, it was taken down and prepared for eating, and wherever a lump of butter as big as a hand remained in a basin, it was used for baking.
The meat was eaten, the fritters disappeared, day had gone and a new day rose in the sky. Nearer and nearer came the day when a woman should bear a child; and the nearer the day, the more urgently did the fear become renewed that the green huntsman would announce himself again and demand what was his by right, or else prepare a trap for them.
Who could measure the distress of that young woman who was to give birth to the child? Her cries of despair resounded throughout the whole house, gradually affecting all who lived there, and no body could give any counsel, apart from saying that there was no trusting that huntsman whom they had had the dealings with. The nearer the fateful hour came, the more closely the poor woman pressed to God, embraced the Holy Mother not with her arms alone but with body and soul and whole mind, praying for protection for the sake of Her blessed Son. And it became clearer and clearer to her that in life and death in every need the greatest comfort is in God, for where He is, the evil one may not be and has no power.
Her soul was convinced ever more clearly that if a priest of the Lord were present at the birth with that holiest of all things, the sacred body of the Redeemer, and if he were armed with strong sentences of anathema, no evil spirit would dare to draw near, and at once the priest would be able to provide the newborn child with the sacrament of baptism, as was allowed by custom at that time; then the poor child would be removed forever from the danger which the presumption of its fathers had brought upon it. This belief came to be shared by others, and the young woman’s wretched plight went to their hearts, but they fought shy of confessing to the priest their pact with Satan, and since that time nobody had gone to confession nor had given an account of themselves to him. The priest was a very pious man, and even the knights of the castle did not make fun of him, thought he told them the truth straight. What the peasants had thought was that once the business was over, he could do nothing to stop them, but all the same nobody now wanted to be the first to tell him, and their consciences told them why.
At last the wretchedness of the situation moved one woman to take action; she went off and disclosed to the priest the compact and what it was the poor woman wanted. The pious man was greatly shocked, but he did not waste time with empty words; he boldly took up the fight with the mighty enemy on behalf of a poor soul. He was one of those men who do not fear the hardest fight, because they wish to be crowned with the crown of eternal life, and because indeed they know that no man will be crowned unless he fights well.
He drew a consecrated circle with holy water about the house where the woman was awaiting her time, for no evil spirits might step into this circle; he blessed the threshold and the whole room, and the woman had a quiet labour and the priest baptized the child without any disturbance. Outside all was quiet, bright stars sparkled in the clear sky and gentle breezes played in the trees. Some people said they heard laughter like a horse’s neighing from afar; but others thought it was only the owls at the edge of the wood. Everyone present, however, was highly delighted, and all fear had disappeared, for ever, as they thought; for if they had fooled the green huntsman once, they could go on doing so by the same method.
A great feast was prepared, and guests were invited from far and wide. The priest of the Lord warned them in vain against feasting and rejoicing, told them to be fearful and to pray, for the enemy was not overcome nor God propitiated. He felt in his mind that he was not in a position to lay any act of penance upon them, and that a mighty and heavy punishment was approaching from God’s own hand. But they did not listen to him and wanted to satisfy him with invitations to food and drink. He, however, went sadly away, prayed for those who did not know what they were doing, and armed himself with prayer and fasting to fight like a true shepherd for the flock entrusted to his care.
Christine too was sitting in the midst of the jubilant throng, but she sat strangely still with glowing cheeks, somber eyes, and one could see a strange twitching in her face. Christine, as an experienced midwife, had been present at the birth, and had acted as godmother during the hasty christening ceremony with an insolent, fearless heart, but when the priest sprinkled the water over the child and baptized it in the three holy names, she felt as if someone were suddenly pressing a red-hot iron on the spot where she had received the green huntsman’s kiss. She had started in sudden terror, had almost dropped the child on to the ground, and since that time the pain had not decreased but became more glowing from hour to hour. At first she had sat still, had forced back the pain and kept to herself the dark thoughts which were turning in her awakened mind, but she moved her hand ever more frequently to the burning spot, on which a poisonous wasp seemed to be placed, piercing with a burning sting right into her marrow. But as there was no wasp to be chased away and as the stings became ever more burning and her thoughts ever more dreadful, Christine began to show people her cheek and ask them what could be seen on it, and she kept on asking, but nobody saw anything, and soon nobody had any wish to be diverted from the pleasures of the christening celebration by peering at her cheeks. Finally she found an old woman who was willing to look carefully; just at that moment the cock crowed, the gray of dawn came, so that what the old woman saw on Christine’s cheek was an almost invisible spot. It was nothing, she said, it would go away all right; and she moved off.
And Christine tried
to comfort herself that it was nothing and it would go away soon; but the pain did not lessen, and the little spot grew imperceptibly, and everybody saw it and asked her what that black thing was on her face. They did not mean anything special by it, but their remarks went to her heart like swordthrusts, rekindled her dark thoughts, and she could not avoid coming back to the thought, time and time again, that it was on this very spot that the green huntsman had kissed her, and that the same fire which on that occasion had shot through her limbs like lightning, now remained burning and consuming there. Thus she could not sleep, her food tasted like firebrand, she rushed aimlessly about, seeking consolation but finding none, for the pain increased still further, and the black spot became bigger and blacker, single dark streaks ran out from the spot, and down towards the mouth it seemed as if there was a lump planted on the round spot.
In this way Christine suffered and rushed around many a long day and many a long night without revealing to anyone the fear in her heart and what it was she had received from the green huntsman on this spot; but if she had known how she could have got rid of this pain, she would have given anything in heaven or on earth to do it. She was by nature a brazen woman, but now she was savage with angry pain.
It now happened that once again a woman was expecting a child. This time there was no great fear and people were easy in mind; so long as they saw to the priest coming at the right time, they thought they could defy the green huntsman. It was only Christine who did not share this belief. The nearer the day of the birth came, the more terrible the burning on her cheek became, the more violently the black spot extended, stretching out legs visibly, driving up short hairs, while shining points and strips appeared on its back, and the hump became a head out of which there blazed a poisonous brilliance as if from two eyes. Everyone who saw the poisonous spider on Christine’s cheek shrieked aloud, and they fled full of fear and horror when they saw how this spider sat firm on her face and had grown out from her flesh. People said all kinds of things, some advised this, some advised the other, but all wished Christine joy of it, whatever it was, and all avoided her and fled from her whenever this was possible. The more people fled from her, the more Christine was driven to follow them, and she rushed from house to house; she must have felt that the devil was reminding her of the promised child; and she rushed after folk in hellish fear to persuade them in no uncertain words to make the sacrifice required by the pact. But the others were little troubled by this; what was tormenting Christine did not hurt them, and what she was suffering was in their opinion her own responsibility, and if they could no longer escape from her, they said to her: ‘That’s your affair! Nobody has promised a child, and therefore nobody is going to give one.’ She set about her own husband with furious words. He fled like the rest, and when he could no longer avoid her he cold-bloodedly told her that it would get better all right, it was a spot such as many people had; once it had taken its course, the pain would cease, and it would be easy to disperse it.
Meanwhile, however, the pain did not cease, each leg was hell-fire, the spider’s body hell itself, and when the woman’s appointed time came, Christine felt as if a sea of fire were surging around her, as if fiery knives were boring into her marrow, as if fiery whirlwinds were rushing through her brain. But the spider swelled and arched itself up, and its eyes glared visciously from behind the short bristles. When Christine found no sympathy anywhere in her burning agony and saw that a woman in labour was strongly guarded, she burst forth like a madwoman along the road where the priest would have to come.
The latter was coming up the slope at a quick pace, accompanied by the sturdy sexton; the hot sun and the seep road did not slow down their walk, for it was a matter of saving a soul and of preventing an eternal misfortune; coming from a visit to a sick parishioner who lived a long way off, the priest was anxious on account of the fearful delay he had experienced. In desperation, Christine threw herself before him in the road, clasped his knees, begged for release from her hell, for the sacrifice of the child that was not yet born, and the spider swelled still more, gleamed terrible and black in Christine’s red swollen face, and with terrifying glances it glared at the priest’s holy requisites. But the priest pushed Christine quickly to one side and made the holy sign; he saw the enemy well enough, but desisted from the fight in order to save a soul. But Christine started up stormed after him and did her utmost to stop him; yet the sexton’s strong hand held the woman off from the priest, and the latter could just arrive in time to protect the house, to receive the infant into his consecrated hands and to place it into the hands of Him Whom hell never overcomes.
Meanwhile Christine had been undergoing a terrible struggle outside. She wanted to have the unbaptized child in her hands and wanted to force her way into the house, but strong men prevented her. Gusts of wind buffeted against the house and yellow lightning hissed round it, but the hand of the Lord was above it, the child was baptized, and Christine circled round the house in vain and without power. Seized by ever wilder hellish torture, she emitted sounds which did not resemble sounds that might come from a human breast; the cattle quivered in their sheds and tore loose from their halters, while the tops of the oak trees in the forest rustled in terror.
Inside the house there was rejoicing over the new victory, the impotence of the green huntsman, the vain writhings of his accessory, but Christine lay outside, thrown onto the ground by dreadful pains, and her face was seized by labour pains such as no woman in child birth has ever experienced on this earth, and the spider in her face swelled higher and higher and burned ever more searingly through her limbs.
Then Christine felt as if her face were bursting open, as if burning coals were being born, coming to life and crawling away over her face, over all her limbs, as if her whole face were coming to life and crawling away red-hot over all her body. In the pale light from the lightning she now saw black little spiders, long-legged, poisonous and innumerable, running over her limbs out into the night, and after those that had disappeared there ran others, long-legged, poisonous and innumerable. Finally she could see no more following the earlier ones, the fire in her face subsided, the spider settled down, became once more an almost invisible point and looked with weary eyes out at the hellish brood which it had borne and sent forth, as a sign that the green huntsman would not let himself be made a fool of.
Exhausted like a woman who has just given birth to a child, Christine crept into the house; although the fire no longer burned so hot on her face, the fire in her heart had not abated, even if her weary limbs longed for rest, for the green would give her not more rest; once he has got somebody, that is how he treats them.
Inside the house, however, there was jubilation and rejoicing, and for a long time they did not hear how the cattle were bellowing and raging in the cowshed. At last they did start up, and a few went out to see; when those who had gone out returned they came back pale as death with the news that the best cow lay dead and the rest of them were raging and stampeding in such a way as had never been seen before. It wasn’t right, there was something unusual at the back of it, they said. At that the sounds of rejoicing were silenced and everyone ran out to the cattle, whose bellowing could be heard over hill and valley, but nobody had any suggestions. They tried both worldly and spiritual arts against magic, but all in vain; already before day broke, death had laid low all the cattle in the shed. But when it became silent in one farm, the bellowing started up on another farm, and yet another; those who were there heard how the trouble had broken into their cattle-sheds and how the animals called to their masters for help in their terrible fear. They rushed home as if flames were leaping from their rooftops, but there was nothing they could do; on one farm as on another death laid low the cattle; cries of distress from man and beast filled hills and valleys, and the sun which had set leaving the valley so happy rose to gaze upon scenes of awful distress. When the sun shone, people could at last see how the sheds where the cattle had been stricken were teeming with countless b
lack spiders. These creatures crawled over the cattle, and the cattle food which they touched became poisoned, and any living creature began to rage until soon it was felled by death. It was impossible to get rid of these spiders from any cattle shed where they had penetrated, it was as if they grew out of the ground itself; it was impossible to protect any shed where they had not yet entered from their invasion, for unexpectedly they started creeping out of all the walls and would fall in clusters from the threshing floor. The cattle were then driven out to pasture, but it was simply driving them into death’s jaws. For wherever a cow placed her foot onto grassland, the ground began to come to life: black, long-legged spiders sprouted up, horrible Alpine flowers which crawled onto the cattle and a fearful wailing could be heard from the hilltops down to the valley. And all these spiders resembled the spider on Christine’s face as children resemble their mother, and nobody had ever seen such before.
The noise of the wretched animals had penetrated to the castle too, and soon shepherds followed with the news that their cattle had fallen because of the poisonous animals and von Stoffeln heard with ever increasing anger how herd upon herd had been lost; now he learnt what type of pact his peasants had made with the green huntsman, and how the huntsman had been deceived a second time, and how the spiders resembled, as children their mother, the spider on the face of the woman from Lindau who alone had made the compact with the green huntsman and had never given a proper account of what had happened. Then von Stoffeln rode up the hill in fierce anger and roared at the peasants that he was not going to lose herd upon herd for their sake; they would have to keep any promises that they had made; what they had done of their own free will, they would have to put up with. He wasn’t going to suffer damage on their account, or if he did have to suffer, they would have to make it good to him a thousand times over. They would have to look out. In this way he spoke to them, indifferent to what it was he was expecting of them; it did not occur to him that he had driven them to it, for he only took account of what they bad done.
The Black Spider Page 6