Dracula's Guest

There at the end of the rope of the great alarm bell hung the body ofthe student, and on the face of the Judge in the picture was amalignant smile.

The Squaw

Nurnberg at the time was not so much exploited as it has been sincethen. Irving had not been playing _Faust_, and the very name of theold town was hardly known to the great bulk of the travelling public.My wife and I being in the second week of our honeymoon, naturallywanted someone else to join our party, so that when the cheerystranger, Elias P. Hutcheson, hailing from Isthmian City, BleedingGulch, Maple Tree County, Neb. turned up at the station at Frankfort,and casually remarked that he was going on to see the most all-firedold Methuselah of a town in Yurrup, and that he guessed that so muchtravelling alone was enough to send an intelligent, active citizeninto the melancholy ward of a daft house, we took the pretty broadhint and suggested that we should join forces. We found, on comparingnotes afterwards, that we had each intended to speak with somediffidence or hesitation so as not to appear too eager, such not beinga good compliment to the success of our married life; but the effectwas entirely marred by our both beginning to speak at the sameinstant--stopping simultaneously and then going on together again.Anyhow, no matter how, it was done; and Elias P. Hutcheson became oneof our party. Straightway Amelia and I found the pleasant benefit;instead of quarrelling, as we had been doing, we found that therestraining influence of a third party was such that we now took everyopportunity of spooning in odd corners. Amelia declares that eversince she has, as the result of that experience, advised all herfriends to take a friend on the honeymoon. Well, we 'did' Nurnbergtogether, and much enjoyed the racy remarks of our Transatlanticfriend, who, from his quaint speech and his wonderful stock ofadventures, might have stepped out of a novel. We kept for the lastobject of interest in the city to be visited the Burg, and on the dayappointed for the visit strolled round the outer wall of the city bythe eastern side.

The Burg is seated on a rock dominating the town and an immensely deepfosse guards it on the northern side. Nurnberg has been happy in thatit was never sacked; had it been it would certainly not be so spickand span perfect as it is at present. The ditch has not been used forcenturies, and now its base is spread with tea-gardens and orchards,of which some of the trees are of quite respectable growth. As wewandered round the wall, dawdling in the hot July sunshine, we oftenpaused to admire the views spread before us, and in especial the greatplain covered with towns and villages and bounded with a blue line ofhills, like a landscape of Claude Lorraine. From this we always turnedwith new delight to the city itself, with its myriad of quaint oldgables and acre-wide red roofs dotted with dormer windows, tier upontier. A little to our right rose the towers of the Burg, and nearerstill, standing grim, the Torture Tower, which was, and is, perhaps,the most interesting place in the city. For centuries the tradition ofthe Iron Virgin of Nurnberg has been handed down as an instance ofthe horrors of cruelty of which man is capable; we had long lookedforward to seeing it; and here at last was its home.

In one of our pauses we leaned over the wall of the moat and lookeddown. The garden seemed quite fifty or sixty feet below us, and thesun pouring into it with an intense, moveless heat like that of anoven. Beyond rose the grey, grim wall seemingly of endless height, andlosing itself right and left in the angles of bastion andcounterscarp. Trees and bushes crowned the wall, and above againtowered the lofty houses on whose massive beauty Time has only set thehand of approval. The sun was hot and we were lazy; time was our own,and we lingered, leaning on the wall. Just below us was a prettysight--a great black cat lying stretched in the sun, whilst round hergambolled prettily a tiny black kitten. The mother would wave her tailfor the kitten to play with, or would raise her feet and push away thelittle one as an encouragement to further play. They were just at thefoot of the wall, and Elias P. Hutcheson, in order to help the play,stooped and took from the walk a moderate sized pebble.

'See!' he said, 'I will drop it near the kitten, and they will bothwonder where it came from.'

'Oh, be careful,' said my wife; 'you might hit the dear little thing!'

'Not me, ma'am,' said Elias P. 'Why, I'm as tender as a Mainecherry-tree. Lor, bless ye. I wouldn't hurt the poor pooty littlecritter more'n I'd scalp a baby. An' you may bet your variegated sockson that! See, I'll drop it fur away on the outside so's not to go nearher!' Thus saying, he leaned over and held his arm out at full lengthand dropped the stone. It may be that there is some attractive forcewhich draws lesser matters to greater; or more probably that the wallwas not plump but sloped to its base--we not noticing the inclinationfrom above; but the stone fell with a sickening thud that came up tous through the hot air, right on the kitten's head, and shattered outits little brains then and there. The black cat cast a swift upwardglance, and we saw her eyes like green fire fixed an instant on EliasP. Hutcheson; and then her attention was given to the kitten, whichlay still with just a quiver of her tiny limbs, whilst a thin redstream trickled from a gaping wound. With a muffled cry, such as ahuman being might give, she bent over the kitten licking its woundsand moaning. Suddenly she seemed to realise that it was dead, andagain threw her eyes up at us. I shall never forget the sight, for shelooked the perfect incarnation of hate. Her green eyes blazed withlurid fire, and the white, sharp teeth seemed to almost shine throughthe blood which dabbled her mouth and whiskers. She gnashed her teeth,and her claws stood out stark and at full length on every paw. Thenshe made a wild rush up the wall as if to reach us, but when themomentum ended fell back, and further added to her horrible appearancefor she fell on the kitten, and rose with her black fur smeared withits brains and blood. Amelia turned quite faint, and I had to lift herback from the wall. There was a seat close by in shade of a spreadingplane-tree, and here I placed her whilst she composed herself. Then Iwent back to Hutcheson, who stood without moving, looking down on theangry cat below.

As I joined him, he said:

'Wall, I guess that air the savagest beast I ever see--'cept once whenan Apache squaw had an edge on a half-breed what they nicknamed"Splinters" 'cos of the way he fixed up her papoose which he stole ona raid just to show that he appreciated the way they had given hismother the fire torture. She got that kinder look so set on her facethat it jest seemed to grow there. She followed Splinters mor'n threeyear till at last the braves got him and handed him over to her. Theydid say that no man, white or Injun, had ever been so long a-dyingunder the tortures of the Apaches. The only time I ever see her smilewas when I wiped her out. I kem on the camp just in time to seeSplinters pass in his checks, and he wasn't sorry to go either. He wasa hard citizen, and though I never could shake with him after thatpapoose business--for it was bitter bad, and he should have been awhite man, for he looked like one--I see he had got paid out in full.Durn me, but I took a piece of his hide from one of his skinnin' postsan' had it made into a pocket-book. It's here now!' and he slapped thebreast pocket of his coat.

Whilst he was speaking the cat was continuing her frantic efforts toget up the wall. She would take a run back and then charge up,sometimes reaching an incredible height. She did not seem to mind theheavy fall which she got each time but started with renewed vigour;and at every tumble her appearance became more horrible. Hutcheson wasa kind-hearted man--my wife and I had both noticed little acts ofkindness to animals as well as to persons--and he seemed concerned atthe state of fury to which the cat had wrought herself.

'Wall, now!' he said, 'I du declare that that poor critter seems quitedesperate. There! there! poor thing, it was all an accident--thoughthat won't bring back your little one to you. Say! I wouldn't have hadsuch a thing happen for a thousand! Just shows what a clumsy fool of aman can do when he tries to play! Seems I'm too darned slipperhandedto even play with a cat. Say Colonel!' it was a pleasant way he had tobestow titles freely--'I hope your wife don't hold no grudge againstme on account of this unpleasantness? Why, I wouldn't have had itoccur on no account.'

He came over to Amelia and apologised profusely, and she with herusual kindness of heart hastened to assure him that she quiteunderstood that it was an accident. Then we all went again to the walland looked over.

Th

e cat missing Hutcheson's face had drawn back across the moat, andwas sitting on her haunches as though ready to spring. Indeed, thevery instant she saw him she did spring, and with a blind unreasoningfury, which would have been grotesque, only that it was so frightfullyreal. She did not try to run up the wall, but simply launched herselfat him as though hate and fury could lend her wings to pass straightthrough the great distance between them. Amelia, womanlike, got quiteconcerned, and said to Elias P. in a warning voice:

'Oh! you must be very careful. That animal would try to kill you ifshe were here; her eyes look like positive murder.'

He laughed out jovially. 'Excuse me, ma'am,' he said, 'but I can'thelp laughin'. Fancy a man that has fought grizzlies an' Injuns bein'careful of bein' murdered by a cat!'

When the cat heard him laugh, her whole demeanour seemed to change.She no longer tried to jump or run up the wall, but went quietly over,and sitting again beside the dead kitten began to lick and fondle itas though it were alive.

'See!' said I, 'the effect of a really strong man. Even that animalin the midst of her fury recognises the voice of a master, and bows tohim!'

'Like a squaw!' was the only comment of Elias P. Hutcheson, as wemoved on our way round the city fosse. Every now and then we lookedover the wall and each time saw the cat following us. At first she hadkept going back to the dead kitten, and then as the distance grewgreater took it in her mouth and so followed. After a while, however,she abandoned this, for we saw her following all alone; she hadevidently hidden the body somewhere. Amelia's alarm grew at the cat'spersistence, and more than once she repeated her warning; but theAmerican always laughed with amusement, till finally, seeing that shewas beginning to be worried, he said:

'I say, ma'am, you needn't be skeered over that cat. I go heeled, Idu!' Here he slapped his pistol pocket at the back of his lumbarregion. 'Why sooner'n have you worried, I'll shoot the critter, righthere, an' risk the police interferin' with a citizen of the UnitedStates for carryin' arms contrairy to reg'lations!' As he spoke helooked over the wall, but the cat on seeing him, retreated, with agrowl, into a bed of tall flowers, and was hidden. He went on: 'Blestif that ar critter ain't got more sense of what's good for her thanmost Christians. I guess we've seen the last of her! You bet, she'llgo back now to that busted kitten and have a private funeral of it,all to herself!'

Amelia did not like to say more, lest he might, in mistaken kindnessto her, fulfil his threat of shooting the cat: and so we went on andcrossed the little wooden bridge leading to the gateway whence ran thesteep paved roadway between the Burg and the pentagonal Torture Tower.As we crossed the bridge we saw the cat again down below us. When shesaw us her fury seemed to return, and she made frantic efforts to getup the steep wall. Hutcheson laughed as he looked down at her, andsaid:

'Goodbye, old girl. Sorry I injured your feelin's, but you'll get overit in time! So long!' And then we passed through the long, dim archwayand came to the gate of the Burg.

When we came out again after our survey of this most beautiful oldplace which not even the well-intentioned efforts of the Gothicrestorers of forty years ago have been able to spoil--though theirrestoration was then glaring white--we seemed to have quite forgottenthe unpleasant episode of the morning. The old lime tree with itsgreat trunk gnarled with the passing of nearly nine centuries, thedeep well cut through the heart of the rock by those captives of old,and the lovely view from the city wall whence we heard, spread overalmost a full quarter of an hour, the multitudinous chimes of thecity, had all helped to wipe out from our minds the incident of theslain kitten.

We were the only visitors who had entered the Torture Tower thatmorning--so at least said the old custodian--and as we had the placeall to ourselves were able to make a minute and more satisfactorysurvey than would have otherwise been possible. The custodian, lookingto us as the sole source of his gains for the day, was willing to meetour wishes in any way. The Torture Tower is truly a grim place, evennow when many thousands of visitors have sent a stream of life, andthe joy that follows life, into the place; but at the time I mentionit wore its grimmest and most gruesome aspect. The dust of ages seemedto have settled on it, and the darkness and the horror of its memoriesseem to have become sentient in a way that would have satisfied thePantheistic souls of Philo or Spinoza. The lower chamber where weentered was seemingly, in its normal state, filled with incarnatedarkness; even the hot sunlight streaming in through the door seemedto be lost in the vast thickness of the walls, and only showed themasonry rough as when the builder's scaffolding had come down, butcoated with dust and marked here and there with patches of dark stainwhich, if walls could speak, could have given their own dread memoriesof fear and pain. We were glad to pass up the dusty wooden staircase,the custodian leaving the outer door open to light us somewhat on ourway; for to our eyes the one long-wick'd, evil-smelling candle stuckin a sconce on the wall gave an inadequate light. When we came upthrough the open trap in the corner of the chamber overhead, Ameliaheld on to me so tightly that I could actually feel her heart beat. Imust say for my own part that I was not surprised at her fear, forthis room was even more gruesome than that below. Here there wascertainly more light, but only just sufficient to realise the horriblesurroundings of the place. The builders of the tower had evidentlyintended that only they who should gain the top should have any of thejoys of light and prospect. There, as we had noticed from below, wereranges of windows, albeit of mediaeval smallness, but elsewhere in thetower were only a very few narrow slits such as were habitual inplaces of mediaeval defence. A few of these only lit the chamber, andthese so high up in the wall that from no part could the sky be seenthrough the thickness of the walls. In racks, and leaning in disorderagainst the walls, were a number of headsmen's swords, greatdouble-handed weapons with broad blade and keen edge. Hard by wereseveral blocks whereon the necks of the victims had lain, with hereand there deep notches where the steel had bitten through the guard offlesh and shored into the wood. Round the chamber, placed in all sortsof irregular ways, were many implements of torture which made one'sheart ache to see--chairs full of spikes which gave instant andexcruciating pain; chairs and couches with dull knobs whose torturewas seemingly less, but which, though slower, were equallyefficacious; racks, belts, boots, gloves, collars, all made forcompressing at will; steel baskets in which the head could be slowlycrushed into a pulp if necessary; watchmen's hooks with long handleand knife that cut at resistance--this a speciality of the oldNurnberg police system; and many, many other devices for man's injuryto man. Amelia grew quite pale with the horror of the things, butfortunately did not faint, for being a little overcome she sat down ona torture chair, but jumped up again with a shriek, all tendency tofaint gone. We both pretended that it was the injury done to her dressby the dust of the chair, and the rusty spikes which had upset her,and Mr. Hutcheson acquiesced in accepting the explanation with akind-hearted laugh.

But the central object in the whole of this chamber of horrors was theengine known as the Iron Virgin, which stood near the centre of theroom. It was a rudely-shaped figure of a woman, something of the bellorder, or, to make a closer comparison, of the figure of Mrs. Noah inthe children's Ark, but without that slimness of waist and perfect_rondeur_ of hip which marks the aesthetic type of the Noah family.One would hardly have recognised it as intended for a human figure atall had not the founder shaped on the forehead a rude semblance of awoman's face. This machine was coated with rust without, and coveredwith dust; a rope was fastened to a ring in the front of the figure,about where the waist should have been, and was drawn through apulley, fastened on the wooden pillar which sustained the flooringabove. The custodian pulling this rope showed that a section of thefront was hinged like a door at one side; we then saw that the enginewas of considerable thickness, leaving just room enough inside for aman to be placed. The door was of equal thickness and of great weight,for it took the custodian all his strength, aided though he was by thecontrivance of the pulley, to open it. This weight was partly due tothe f

act that the door was of manifest purpose hung so as to throw itsweight downwards, so that it might shut of its own accord when thestrain was released. The inside was honeycombed with rust--nay more,the rust alone that comes through time would hardly have eaten so deepinto the iron walls; the rust of the cruel stains was deep indeed! Itwas only, however, when we came to look at the inside of the door thatthe diabolical intention was manifest to the full. Here were severallong spikes, square and massive, broad at the base and sharp at thepoints, placed in such a position that when the door should close theupper ones would pierce the eyes of the victim, and the lower ones hisheart and vitals. The sight was too much for poor Amelia, and thistime she fainted dead off, and I had to carry her down the stairs, andplace her on a bench outside till she recovered. That she felt it tothe quick was afterwards shown by the fact that my eldest son bears tothis day a rude birthmark on his breast, which has, by familyconsent, been accepted as representing the Nurnberg Virgin.

When we got back to the chamber we found Hutcheson still opposite theIron Virgin; he had been evidently philosophising, and now gave us thebenefit of his thought in the shape of a sort of exordium.

'Wall, I guess I've been learnin' somethin' here while madam has beengettin' over her faint. 'Pears to me that we're a long way behind thetimes on our side of the big drink. We uster think out on the plainsthat the Injun could give us points in tryin' to make a manuncomfortable; but I guess your old mediaeval law-and-order partycould raise him every time. Splinters was pretty good in his bluff onthe squaw, but this here young miss held a straight flush all high onhim. The points of them spikes air sharp enough still, though even theedges air eaten out by what uster be on them. It'd be a good thing forour Indian section to get some specimens of this here play-toy to sendround to the Reservations jest to knock the stuffin' out of the bucks,and the squaws too, by showing them as how old civilisation lays overthem at their best. Guess but I'll get in that box a minute jest tosee how it feels!'

'Oh no! no!' said Amelia. 'It is too terrible!'