Martyrs of Science

by S. Henry Berthoud

  The Baron nodded his head, and Notburga allowed a movement of joy to show.

  “With your permission,” the councilor continued, “I’ll have the honor of welcoming you tomorrow at Heidenloch Castle. You’ll spend the day there, I hope, and before we part we can talk about a new project that I have in mind. So I’ll expect you tomorrow at midday.”

  And he disappeared as he had come, without the Baron and his daughter, stunned by the councilor’s point-blank invitation, having seen him go, any more than they had seen him arrive.

  The councilor’s invitation was astonishing, in that it was the first time that the mysterious individual had allowed anyone to enter his home. Thus, the news traveled rapidly in the village; some people criticized the Baron for not refusing an invitation made by a man of such dubious reputation as the councilor’s; others asserted that he was exposing himself to great dangers in going into a place where God alone—and perhaps, alas, also the Devil—knew what was going on. At any rate, the next day, the Baron found outside his windows and along his route all the inhabitants of the neighborhood, who had come to watch him and his daughter as they headed for the old castle and crossed the threshold.

  The councilor was waiting for his guests at the boundary of the land that he had rented. Notburga noted gladly that he was not hiding his eyes behind ugly blue lenses, and the Baron wondered whether the young man who shook his hand, distinguished in his manners and appearance, was really the singular individual who seemed to be trying with all his might to justify the reputation for sinister strangeness that had acquired for twenty leagues around.

  While the Baron ruminated that thought, the councilor offered his arm to Fraulein Notburga, and escorted her to his residence.

  Nothing bore less resemblance to ruins, and even the castle, the ancient building once so desolate, might have thought to be a palace built by fairies. Royal luxury was combined there with artistic elegance, and the Baron’s eyes could not open wide enough to admire so many marvels. As for Notburga, however much admiration she felt, she experienced more astonishment at the councilor’s conversation, which was both witty and grave.

  After an exquisite lunch, which did not last long, in spite of the German custom of remaining at table for a long time and emptying numerous bottles, the councilor—who only drank water and had only sampled two or three dishes—rose to his feet and proposed to Notburga that they begin the planned visit to the subterranean treasures.

  First he led her into the garden, where the extraction of masses of clay was continuing.

  “This,” he said, picking up a handful of clay that was almost at ground level, “is a veritable treasure, Fraulein; it’s kaolin, a substance that your castle possesses in abundance. Look! Kaolin in an earthen substance, very soft and pale, composed of silica, aluminum, potassium, magnesium, calcium and iron oxides, and water.

  “Kaolin serves to manufacture porcelain, an industry whose discovery in China appeared to go back more than two thousand years before the Christian Era, and was only imported into Europe by the Portuguese in the 15th century.

  “In the last two hundred years, rare deposits of kaolin have been found in France, Russia and Germany. Now, you can judge the importance and value of the almost inexhaustible supply of this material on which your castle is build. There’s enough for a thousand years of exploitation.

  “Below that are coal-mines of incalculable richness and exquisite quality. You were able to judge that during lunch, since the fruit essences with which the creams and compotes were made came from that coal.”

  The Baron looked at the councilor fearfully.

  “My God, yes, replied the latter. “I can make sugar with my cook’s apron and delicious liqueurs with coal. If you like, at dinner I’ll make ice in a red hot crucible.”

  The Baron was an excellent man, an intelligent agriculturalist and very fond of growing flowers, but his education had been somewhat neglected in relation to the natural sciences. In addition, brought up by an old nurse who had muddied his brain in early childhood with tales of magicians, and living in the midst of a population for whom witches and their spells were articles of faith, he fell prey, in the councilor’s presence, to a suspicion mixed with fear.

  To begin with, it did not seem natural to him that a man could discover, in a matter of months, on land previously reckoned sterile, a layer of kaolin and coal mines. After that, the apron turned to sugar, the coal transformed into the essence of pears and pineapples, and the ice that could be manufactured in a hot crucible, made his head spin—and perhaps, at that moment, he would have given anything to be placidly cultivating his dahlias and tulips in his garden instead of wandering in that diabolical castle in the company of his bizarre tenant.

  Notburga, on the other hand, had never felt so happy in her life.

  Leaning on the arm of Herr Fritz—for she was beginning to call him by that amicable name in her thoughts, rather than using his title of councilor—she was taking pleasure in walking with him, the objects that he showed her and the things he said to her. She did not want the day to end. So, when she saw the Baron taking out his watch repeatedly to interrogate the hands, she felt herself becoming sad.

  “Why, Baron, do you imagine that you’ll escape my claws so soon?” demanded the councilor, laughing. “You and Fraulein Notburga are my prisoners until nightfall, and even beyond. Prepare yourselves in consequence, and bear your unease patiently.”

  “The roads aren’t very good,” said the Baron, “and there’s a risk in the dark...”

  “Does darkness exist if I don’t wish it? I can’t stop the sun like Joshua, but I’ll create another sun, and if you can’t see when you go home at midnight as clearly as in broad daylight, I don’t want to see you or your daughter ever again—which would be the greatest chagrin I can feel! I like you so much—both of you—that I’d rather never be separated from you. Let’s eat, Baron; we’ll resume this conversation later.”

  In spite of the excellent meal that was served and the exquisite wines that overloaded the table, the Baron felt increasingly ill at ease.

  “The moment has come to make the ice,” said the councilor. “Have an incandescent vessel brought up from the foundry, Katt.” And as Katt just looked at him fearfully, he went out, and came back shortly afterwards with two blacksmiths carrying a furnace full of fire, and red hot itself.

  He then poured into a platinum vessel, submitted to all the violence of heat, a substance that spread a strong odor of sulfur through the dining room, threw water over that substance from a carafe, withdrew the crucible from above the furnace and emptied it on to a tray. A magnificent block of ice fell on to the tray.

  “We can now have a drink as cold as we wish, he said, surrounding a bottle of champagne with that singular ice.

  The Baron felt even more ill at ease. It was even worse when, as he got up from the table, the councilor said in his vibrant voice: “Baron, you already know what I’ve made of the domain of your ancestors at ground level; now it’s necessary for you to see what I’ve made of it underground. To begin with, we’ll go down about a hundred meters.”

  The Baron made a fearful gesture, but before he had pronounced a single word he saw the table vanish, as if by magic, and he felt the floor beneath his feet tremble slightly. The light of the sky and its stars, which could be glimpsed through the curtains at the windows, gave way to a profound darkness; a slight coolness succeeded the warm atmosphere that had enveloped the councilor and his guests, and a slight shock caused the room to shake.

  “We’ve arrived!” said the councilor, opening a door that revealed the entrance to a black tunnel. “You’re now a hundred meters below ground—a ground composed entirely of sandstone. Here, take a look!”

  The Baron paraded his anxious gaze around.

  “It’s here, Baron, in the very bosom of the earth, that we’re going to see the strange beings that in habited our globe before the creation of humankind.

  “With regard to the different layers
of which the earth’s crust is made up, you can observe in my geology galley, and will be able to observe again, as much as you wish, specimens placed in order of their formation.

  “This gallery is an abridgement of the history of the globe’s formation. First you see here the primitive terrain of the crystallization of pure granite, granitic rocks, mica- and talc-bearing schists, and amphibolous rocks. These layers form the skeleton on the earth, produced by cooling after the original fusion. They contain seams of precious stones, statuary marble, rock crystal, copper and gold.

  “Next come the intermediary or metamorphic terrains, forming an intermediary between the igneous rocks and the stratified terrains; they enclose kaolin, glass quartz and siliceous marls. The plutonic rocks, powerful eruptions of the central fire, terminate the first epoch of the terrestrial globe.

  “The transitional terrains, with their schists, limestone and various sandstones, open the second epoch. The earth, considerably cooled, was then covered with vegetables, which produced the carbonaceous terrain. The masses of coal that one finds in the depths of the ground testify to the richness of the primitive vegetation.

  “Anthracite, independent coals, mingled with sandstone and black schists, make up the bulk of the transitional terrains, where one finds formations of sulfur, mercury and a few metallic seams.

  “When the earth’s atmosphere was purified, the gases that composed it were partly liquefied, water flowed over the surface of the terrestrial crust and the sedimentary layers were able to form. The first of the secondary terrains, the Pencean,82 is made up of pale red calcareous rocks tinted with white, which yield excellent chalk and beautiful marble.

  “During the second period, volcanoes, still endowed with enormous power, vomited the ancient volcanic rocks; these rocks are distinguished from plutonic rocks by the numerous cavities that inflate and pierce them, as in our modern lavas.

  “The third epoch commences with the formation of secondary terrains—Cambrian, Silurian, Devonian and Jurassic—in which exclusively nautical fossils appear for the first time, particularly crustaceans, polyps, fish and birds—or, rather, flying reptiles. No trace is found of terrestrial animals, which proves that marine animals were created first. The Cirque de Gavarnie and the towers of Le Marboré in France are magnificent limestone formations of that sort.

  “The Lower and Upper Cretaceous, with its gypsums, its lithographic stones, its lignites and its sandstones encrusted with shells close the third epoch. Then the terrestrial animals appear, which mark the fourth epoch of the history of the globe. One finds them in the Tertiary terrain, and science observes among the fossils the remains of giant primitive mammals. It’s at the end of the Tertiary period that the diluvium is formed, evidence of the universal deluge.

  “The post-diluvial and modern alluvia are represented in my museum by their principal rocks, the galets, stalactites and travertines.

  “Let’s begin by examining the skeletons of animals. As you can see, I’ve arranged them in galleries hollowed out in the very midst of the natural terrains in which one finds these creatures, the species of which have disappeared forever from the earth. All of them are gigantic, because, before God created humans, it was necessary for the inhabitants of our globe to be robust in order to live in the bosom of the rude nature that surrounded them.

  “This collection has given me a great deal of difficulty in its compilation, but, thank God, it’s as complete as possible; neither gold, nor voyages, nor fatigue have been spared in assembling it. Finally, skilful molds reproduce faithfully, so far as possible, all the originals that I have not been able to procure.

  “Now, with a wave of my magic wand, I’m going to resuscitate these monsters. You’ll see them, not lying there like inert skeletons, but as the Creator produced them, with their forms, their colors and their movements. I promised you their visit, and here they are.”

  So saying, he made as if to readjust the chalk wick that was giving such a beautiful light, but he extinguished it, and a profound darkness, an authentic pitch darkness, suddenly surrounded the Baron and his daughter.

  Immediately, however, a soft light gradually appeared, like a dot, and at the far end of the tunnel, which might have been twenty meters long, objects appeared, confusedly at first, in the middle of a luminous circle, and gradually took on form and substance. There were strange trees, such as the earth no longer produces, and red sandstone rocks that loomed up on the shore of an immense sea.

  Notburga could not suppress a scream of terror. A monster, half serpent and half fish, had suddenly emerged from the water, and seemed to be advancing menacingly toward her. It measured at least ten meters, and was dragging itself awkwardly over the mud with the aid of four short stout limbs. On reaching the shore, it seemed to catch sight of the councilor and his guests; it brandished a neck four or five meters long, like a serpent, in their direction, and opened an immense mouth garnished with sharp teeth as long as a human hand.

  The Baron would rather have been anywhere else; his daughter leaned on her father’s arm, trembling.

  “Don’t be afraid, Fraulein,” said the councilor. “This monster, which is called a plesiosaur, will not occupy us for long, for I perceive a labyrinthodon, which will make short work of it.”

  Indeed, on the far side of the strand, a toad of a size to rival the plesiosaur, as tall as an elephant, was crawling along. It opened and enormous maw. The plesiosaur tried to flee but could not; the giant batrachian fascinated it by means of a mysterious magnetic power, and drew it invincibly toward it.

  “Let’s take advantage of their combat to get away, and climb up rapidly toward a more elevated terrain,” said the councilor, bringing Notburga and her father back into the little room, whose door the closed.

  The Baron fell into an armchair, rather than merely sitting down, and wiped his brow, which was bathed in cold sweat.

  Notburga was pale too, and a little tremulous.

  Fritz, who pretended not to see their emotion, opened the door again.

  “Now we’re in the terrains of the third epoch of the fourth period of creation,” he said. “Many creatures, various in nature, lived then; their fossil skeletons are numerous, as you’ll see. Nevertheless the proportions of their stature are sensibly diminished. There are even petrified bones of aquatic birds, some with webbed feet like our ducks, others equipped with long legs like our waders. Those remains, which form an animal half-lizard and half-fish, belong to the ichthyosaur, of which I shall evoke the specter, as well as those of the megalosaurs, or giant crocodiles, which then pullulated on the earth. But let’s see our ichthyosaur first.

  The light went out and, as before, a landscape appeared at the far end of the tunnel, this time composed of giant cycads, horsetails and ferns; those plants, so small today, were bigger than or largest modern oaks.

  An ichthyosaur seemed to be asleep on the sand; its back, on which the sun’s rays were falling, was shining with the most brilliant colors and sparkling like an immense precious stone.

  Suddenly, a formidable whistle, reminiscent of one escaping from a steam engine, resounded in the air. The ichthyosaur opened its eyes wide and tried to get back into the water, but before it could do so a dragon, whose wingspan measured at least five or six meters, fell upon it and resumed its flight, lifting its prey in its redoubtable claws, while striking at it and lacerating it with its beak.

  “Well, Baron, what do you think of that hunt?” asked the councilor. “Isn’t that flight as good as that of a falcon or a heron? What a beautiful bird of prey that pterodactyl is, whose beak is between two and three meters long, whose iridescent body is so richly colored, whose robust neck had the force and flexibility of a boa constrictor, and whose pointed teeth are equivalent, in proportion and strength, to the bayonet of an Austrian grenadier guard! Look how the fellow is eating that ichthyosaur seven or eight meters long!”

  “All this is quite marvelous, but quite horrible!” murmured Notburga, who was feeling faint.

/>   “Then let’s go back up to the surface right away,” said the councilor, giving a signal. He went on: “Another time, we’ll see the rest of the fossil animals that I have the art of resuscitating; among them there are moles as big as elephants, elephants as big as hills, covered in long furry fleeces like sheep, and dogs and tigers as big as horses, and a thousand other things that disconcert both human imagination and reason.”

  He had scarcely finished speaking when the little room reached the level of the castle again.

  Pale and weak, Notburga ran to the window in order not to faint.

  “Now, now, my dear Fraulein,” said the councilor, with paternal solicitude. “Don’t take my innocent jokes so seriously. I can explain everything to you with a few words, and make you smile at your terrors.

  “The rising and falling room that you’re in is made in imitation of those found in New York hotels. Nothing is simpler than their mechanism, invented in order that one can live on upper floors with no more fatigue than if one were lodged on the ground floor.

  “As for the apparitions of resuscitated fossils, they’re nothing but phantasmagoria slides improved by a friend of mine, an optician.”

  “And what about the sugar you made from your cook’s clothes, and the ice made in a crucible?” demanded the Baron, who did not believe a word of those explanations.

  “Child’s play—the tricks of a student of chemistry. I could just as easily turn sugar into sawdust or paper; I can even make alcohol, ether or vinegar from it; it would be sufficient for me to have recourse to distillation. The French chemist Braconnot83 was the first to carry out those marvels. He got there on seeing that the apron, where it had been splashed by sulfuric acid, presented the characteristics of a burn without charring.