METZENGERSTEIN
Pestis eram vivus--moriens tua mors ero.
--_Martin Luther_
HORROR and fatality have been stalking abroad in all ages. Why then givea date to this story I have to tell? Let it suffice to say, that at theperiod of which I speak, there existed, in the interior of Hungary, asettled although hidden belief in the doctrines of the Metempsychosis.Of the doctrines themselves--that is, of their falsity, or of theirprobability--I say nothing. I assert, however, that much of ourincredulity--as La Bruyere says of all our unhappiness--"_vient de nepouvoir etre seuls_." {*1}
But there are some points in the Hungarian superstition which were fastverging to absurdity. They--the Hungarians--differed very essentiallyfrom their Eastern authorities. For example, "_The soul_," said theformer--I give the words of an acute and intelligent Parisian--"_nedemeure 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 cesanimaux._"
The families of Berlifitzing and Metzengerstein had been at variancefor centuries. Never before were two houses so illustrious, mutuallyembittered by hostility so deadly. The origin of this enmity seems tobe found in the words of an ancient prophecy--"A lofty name shall havea fearful fall when, as the rider over his horse, the mortality ofMetzengerstein shall triumph over the immortality of Berlifitzing."
To be sure the words themselves had little or no meaning. But moretrivial causes have given rise--and that no long while ago--toconsequences equally eventful. Besides, the estates, which werecontiguous, had long exercised a rival influence in the affairs of abusy government. Moreover, near neighbors are seldom friends; and theinhabitants of the Castle Berlifitzing might look, from their loftybuttresses, into the very windows of the palace Metzengerstein. Least ofall had the more than feudal magnificence, thus discovered, a tendencyto allay the irritable feelings of the less ancient and less wealthyBerlifitzings. What wonder then, that the words, however silly, of thatprediction, should have succeeded in setting and keeping at variancetwo families already predisposed to quarrel by every instigationof hereditary jealousy? The prophecy seemed to imply--if it impliedanything--a final triumph on the part of the already more powerfulhouse; and was of course remembered with the more bitter animosity bythe weaker and less influential.
Wilhelm, Count Berlifitzing, although loftily descended, was, at theepoch of this narrative, an infirm and doting old man, remarkable fornothing but an inordinate and inveterate personal antipathy to thefamily 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 after. Frederick was, at that time, in hisfifteenth year. In a city, fifteen years are no long period--a childmay be still a child in his third lustrum: but in a wilderness--in somagnificent a wilderness as that old principality, fifteen years have afar deeper meaning.
From some peculiar circumstances attending the administration ofhis father, the young Baron, at the decease of the former, enteredimmediately upon his vast possessions. Such estates were seldom heldbefore by a nobleman of Hungary. His castles were without number. Thechief in point of splendor and extent was the "Chateau Metzengerstein."The boundary line of his dominions was never clearly defined; but hisprincipal park embraced a circuit of fifty miles.
Upon the succession of a proprietor so young, with a character so wellknown, to a fortune so unparalleled, little speculation was afloat inregard to his probable course of conduct. And, indeed, for the spaceof three days, the behavior of the heir out-heroded Herod, and fairlysurpassed the expectations of his most enthusiastic admirers. Shamefuldebaucheries--flagrant treacheries--unheard-of atrocities--gave histrembling vassals quickly to understand that no servile submission ontheir part--no punctilios of conscience on his own--were thenceforwardto prove any security against the remorseless fangs of a petty Caligula.On the night of the fourth day, the stables of the castle Berlifitzingwere discovered to be on fire; and the unanimous opinion of theneighborhood added the crime of the incendiary to the already hideouslist of the Baron's misdemeanors and enormities.
But during the tumult occasioned by this occurrence, the young noblemanhimself sat apparently buried in meditation, in a vast and desolateupper apartment of the family palace of Metzengerstein. The richalthough faded tapestry hangings which swung gloomily upon the walls,represented the shadowy and majestic forms of a thousand illustriousancestors. _Here_, rich-ermined priests, and pontifical dignitaries,familiarly seated with the autocrat and the sovereign, put a veto onthe wishes of a temporal king, or restrained with the fiat of papalsupremacy the rebellious sceptre of the Arch-enemy. _There_, the dark,tall statures of the Princes Metzengerstein--their muscular war-coursersplunging over the carcasses of fallen foes--startled the steadiestnerves with their vigorous expression; and _here_, again, the voluptuousand swan-like figures of the dames of days gone by, floated away in themazes of an unreal dance to the strains of imaginary melody.
But as the Baron listened, or affected to listen, to the graduallyincreasing uproar in the stables of Berlifitzing--or perhaps ponderedupon some more novel, some more decided act of audacity--his eyes becameunwittingly rivetted to the figure of an enormous, and unnaturallycolored horse, represented in the tapestry as belonging to a Saracenancestor of the family of his rival. The horse itself, in the foregroundof the design, stood motionless and statue-like--while farther back, itsdiscomfited rider perished by the dagger of a Metzengerstein.
On Frederick's lip arose a fiendish expression, as he became aware ofthe direction which his glance had, without his consciousness, assumed.Yet he did not remove it. On the contrary, he could by no means accountfor the overwhelming anxiety which appeared falling like a pall uponhis senses. It was with difficulty that he reconciled his dreamy andincoherent feelings with the certainty of being awake. The longer hegazed the more absorbing became the spell--the more impossible did itappear that he could ever withdraw his glance from the fascination ofthat tapestry. But the tumult without becoming suddenly more violent,with a compulsory exertion he diverted his attention to the glare ofruddy light thrown full by the flaming stables upon the windows of theapartment.
The action, however, was but momentary, his gaze returned mechanicallyto the wall. To his extreme horror and astonishment, the head of thegigantic steed had, in the meantime, altered its position. The neck ofthe animal, before arched, as if in compassion, over the prostrate bodyof its lord, was now extended, at full length, in the direction ofthe Baron. The eyes, before invisible, now wore an energetic and humanexpression, while they gleamed with a fiery and unusual red; and thedistended lips of the apparently enraged horse left in full view hisgigantic and disgusting teeth.
Stupified with terror, the young nobleman tottered to the door. As hethrew 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 uponthe threshold--assuming the exact position, and precisely filling upthe contour, of the relentless and triumphant murderer of the SaracenBerlifitzing.
To lighten the depression of his spirits, the Baron hurried into theopen air. At the principal gate of the palace he encountered threeequerries. With much difficulty, and at the imminent peril of theirlives, they were restraining the convulsive plunges of a gigantic andfiery-colored horse.
"Whose horse? Where did you get him?" demanded the youth, in aquerulous and husky tone of voice, as he became instantly aware that themysterious steed in the tapestried chamber was the very counterpart ofthe furious animal before his eyes.
"He is your own property, sire," replied one of the equerries, "at leasthe is claimed by no other owner. We caught him flying, all smoking andfoaming with rage, from the burning stable
s of the Castle Berlifitzing.Supposing him to have belonged to the old Count's stud of foreignhorses, we led him back as an estray. But the grooms there disclaim anytitle to the creature; which is strange, since he bears evident marks ofhaving 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 theinitials of Wilhelm Von Berlifitzing--but all at the castle are positivein denying any knowledge of the horse."
"Extremely singular!" said the young Baron, with a musing air, andapparently unconscious of the meaning of his words. "He is, as you say,a remarkable horse--a prodigious horse! although, as you very justlyobserve, of a suspicious and untractable character, let him be mine,however," he added, after a pause, "perhaps a rider like Frederickof Metzengerstein, may tame even the devil from the stables ofBerlifitzing."
"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 ourduty better than to bring him into the presence of a noble of yourfamily."
"True!" observed the Baron, dryly, and at that instant a page ofthe bedchamber came from the palace with a heightened color, and aprecipitate step. He whispered into his master's ear an account of thesudden disappearance of a small portion of the tapestry, in an apartmentwhich he designated; entering, at the same time, into particulars of aminute and circumstantial character; but from the low tone of voice inwhich these latter were communicated, nothing escaped to gratify theexcited curiosity of the equerries.
The young Frederick, during the conference, seemed agitated by avariety of emotions. He soon, however, recovered his composure, and anexpression of determined malignancy settled upon his countenance, ashe gave peremptory orders that a certain chamber should be immediatelylocked 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 thepage, the huge steed which that nobleman had adopted as his own, plungedand curvetted, with redoubled fury, down the long avenue which extendedfrom the chateau to the stables of Metzengerstein.
"No!" said the Baron, turning abruptly toward the speaker, "dead! sayyou?"
"It is indeed true, my lord; and, to a noble of your name, will be, Iimagine, 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 deliberatelyimpressed with the truth of some exciting idea.
"Indeed;" repeated the vassal.
"Shocking!" said the youth, calmly, and turned quietly into the chateau.
From this date a marked alteration took place in the outward demeanorof the dissolute young Baron Frederick Von Metzengerstein. Indeed, hisbehavior disappointed every expectation, and proved little in accordancewith the views of many a manoeuvering mamma; while his habits andmanner, still less than formerly, offered any thing congenial withthose of the neighboring aristocracy. He was never to be seen beyondthe limits of his own domain, and, in this wide and social world, wasutterly companionless--unless, indeed, that unnatural, impetuous, andfiery-colored horse, which he henceforward continually bestrode, had anymysterious 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 festivalswith his presence?" "Will the Baron join us in a hunting of theboar?"--"Metzengerstein does not hunt;" "Metzengerstein will notattend," 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 ceasedaltogether. The widow of the unfortunate Count Berlifitzing was evenheard to express a hope "that the Baron might be at home when he did notwish to be at home, since he disdained the company of his equals; andride when he did not wish to ride, since he preferred the society of ahorse." This to be sure was a very silly explosion of hereditary pique;and merely proved how singularly unmeaning our sayings are apt tobecome, when we desire to be unusually energetic.
The charitable, nevertheless, attributed the alteration in the conductof the young nobleman to the natural sorrow of a son for the untimelyloss of his parents--forgetting, however, his atrocious and recklessbehavior during the short period immediately succeeding thatbereavement. Some there were, indeed, who suggested a too haughtyidea of self-consequence and dignity. Others again (among them may bementioned the family physician) did not hesitate in speaking of morbidmelancholy, and hereditary ill-health; while dark hints, of a moreequivocal nature, were current among the multitude.
Indeed, the Baron's perverse attachment to his lately-acquiredcharger--an attachment which seemed to attain new strength from everyfresh example of the animal's ferocious and demon-like propensities--atlength became, in the eyes of all reasonable men, a hideous andunnatural fervor. In the glare of noon--at the dead hour of night--insickness or in health--in calm or in tempest--the young Metzengersteinseemed rivetted to the saddle of that colossal horse, whose intractableaudacities so well accorded with his own spirit.
There were circumstances, moreover, which coupled with late events, gavean unearthly and portentous character to the mania of the rider, and tothe capabilities of the steed. The space passed over in a single leaphad been accurately measured, and was found to exceed, by an astoundingdifference, the wildest expectations of the most imaginative. The Baron,besides, had no particular _name_ for the animal, although all the restin his collection were distinguished by characteristic appellations. Hisstable, too, was appointed at a distance from the rest; and with regardto grooming and other necessary offices, none but the owner in personhad ventured to officiate, or even to enter the enclosure of thatparticular stall. It was also to be observed, that although the threegrooms, who had caught the steed as he fled from the conflagrationat Berlifitzing, had succeeded in arresting his course, by means of achain-bridle and noose--yet no one of the three could with any certaintyaffirm that he had, during that dangerous struggle, or at any periodthereafter, actually placed his hand upon the body of the beast.Instances of peculiar intelligence in the demeanor of a noble andhigh-spirited horse are not to be supposed capable of excitingunreasonable attention--especially among men who, daily trained to thelabors of the chase, might appear well acquainted with the sagacity ofa horse--but there were certain circumstances which intruded themselvesper force upon the most skeptical and phlegmatic; and it is said therewere times when the animal caused the gaping crowd who stood around torecoil in horror from the deep and impressive meaning of his terriblestamp--times when the young Metzengerstein turned pale and shrunk awayfrom the rapid and searching expression of his earnest and human-lookingeye.
Among all the retinue of the Baron, however, none were found to doubtthe ardor of that extraordinary affection which existed on the part ofthe young nobleman for the fiery qualities of his horse; at least, nonebut an insignificant and misshapen little page, whose deformitieswere in everybody's way, and whose opinions were of the least possibleimportance. He--if his ideas are worth mentioning at all--had theeffrontery to assert that his master never vaulted into the saddlewithout an unaccountable and almost imperceptible shudder, and that,upon his return from every long-continued and habitual ride, anexpression of triumphant malignity distorted every muscle in hiscountenance.
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 commonattracted no particular attention, but his return was looked for withintense anxiety on the part of his domestics, when, after some hours'absence, the stupendous and magnificent battlements of the ChateauMetzengerstein, were discovered crackling and rocking to theirvery foundation,
under the influence of a dense and livid mass ofungovernable fire.
As the flames, when first seen, had already made so terrible a progressthat all efforts to save any portion of the building were evidentlyfutile, the astonished neighborhood stood idly around in silentand pathetic wonder. But a new and fearful object soon rivetted theattention of the multitude, and proved how much more intense is theexcitement wrought in the feelings of a crowd by the contemplation ofhuman agony, than that brought about by the most appalling spectacles ofinanimate matter.
Up the long avenue of aged oaks which led from the forest to the mainentrance of the Chateau Metzengerstein, a steed, bearing an unbonnetedand disordered rider, was seen leaping with an impetuosity whichoutstripped 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 struggleof his frame, gave evidence of superhuman exertion: but no sound, savea solitary shriek, escaped from his lacerated lips, which were bittenthrough and through in the intensity of terror. One instant, and theclattering of hoofs resounded sharply and shrilly above the roaring ofthe flames and the shrieking of the winds--another, and, clearing at asingle plunge the gate-way and the moat, the steed bounded far up thetottering staircases of the palace, and, with its rider, disappearedamid the whirlwind of chaotic fire.
The fury of the tempest immediately died away, and a dead calm sullenlysucceeded. A white flame still enveloped the building like a shroud,and, streaming far away into the quiet atmosphere, shot forth a glareof preternatural light; while a cloud of smoke settled heavily over thebattlements in the distinct colossal figure of--_a horse_.
The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 4 Page 4