A Legend of the Black Forest
by Miss Skelton.
Originally published in Ainsworth's Magazine: A Miscellany of Romance (Chapman and Hall) vol.3 #14 (Mar 1843).
It was late in the evening when the Bishop of Salzburg entered the hall of his palace, where his knights and men-at-arms sat carousing round a board laden with goodly viands and flagons of sparkling wine. His countenance was troubled, and in his hand he held an open letter.
"Is there one among you, my valiant knights and men-at-arms, who will mount and ride to-night, and do my bidding at the camp of my good brother, the Catholic Duke?"
There was silence for a brief space. Then many spoke—"The way is through the Black Forest, and this is an eve on which the demons have double power."
"I know it, my children; but it is a holy errand, and I will give my blessing ere departure, and a rich reward on return, to whomsoever will dare to go."
Then out spake a young and handsome knight, the gallant Hubert von Alstein—"I will go, your grace; and with your blessing, and my own good sword, will fear nor man nor fiend."
"Well said, my son, thou wast ever a brave youth. Follow me to my chamber, and thou shalt have full instructions." And the Bishop left the hall.
Now when the young knight made the offer, many others had also come forward, and expressed their wishes to try the adventure, but Hubert had first spoken, and was therefore chosen; nor would he accept of partner or companion in the dangerous enterprise.
So he ascended to the Bishop's chamber, to receive his full instruetions. And the Bishop said—"Here is a sealed packet; deliver it with thine own hand, to our noble brother, the Catholic Duke, and bring me back a reply, ere noon to-morrow. Here is also a relic, a fragment of the true cross, brought from the Holy Land, attached to a golden chain seven times forged, and blessed by his holiness the Pope. Bind it round thy neck, and hold it to thy bosom. Now take my blessing, and with these and thine own good sword, thou mayst pass unscathed through the fires of Tophet."
The young knight bent the knee, and received with reverence the benediction of the Bishop.
Then Hubert's trusty steed was brought forth, and he mounted him; yet ere he rode from the court-yard, he stayed beneath a low window, barely five feet from the ground, where a light glimmered through closed lattices and encroaching vine leaves. He struck lightly on the casement; it quickly opened, and a fair face and neck appeared from the narrow aperture.
"Ah! Hubert," said the maiden, "whither so late, and on so wild a night?"
"My errand is wilder than the night, fairest. I go to the camp of the Duke, with letters from his grace, your right reverend uncle."
"The saints protect us! Hubert, you will not surely tempt the dangers of the Black Forest to-night?"
"Nay, Lilla, I must go; and will claim a rich reward should I return—and return I shall, for I have been blessed by the Bishop, and carry with me a precious relic—a fragment of the true cross. But this is lingering—I should be on my road; one kiss, Lilla, and pray for me till I come again."
So Lilla gave him one kiss, and many beside; and with tears and entreaties that he would run no needless dangers, she saw him depart.
Hubert rode cheerily on as long as he continued in the open country, but it needed all his courage to enable him to keep up his spirits as he plunged into the gloomy forest. However, it was too late to retreat, so he said an Ave, pressed the relic to his bosom, and urged his horse into a gallop.
The road grew gloomier and more intricate as he proceeded along it, and he had accomplished about a mile, when the trampling of a steed behind him caused him to look back, and he beheld a knight close behind him, mounted on an ebon-coloured charger, and clad in black armour, having on his helmet a large carbuncle which diffused a mysterious glimmer around.
"Good even," said the stranger; "we have a rough ride before us: whither are you bound?"
"To the camp of the Duke, with dispatches," replied Hubert.
"Strange!" ejaculated the black knight; "we ride on the same errand. I, too, bear dispatches to the Duke, and from a holy prelate, the Bishop of Salzburg."
"Do you not fear the demons who throng these woods?" inquired Hubert.
"I have a sure protection," replied the black knight; "the Bishop blessed me, and gave me a fragment of the true cross."
"Another strange coincidence!" exclaimed Hubert; "I, too, have a similar relic, and am armed with a like benediction."
The black knight laughed, and his laugh was echoed by a thousand mocking noises, while forms, indistinct and ghastly, flitted between the trees, and crossed their path.
"Holy Virgin, save us!" exclaimed Hubert, crossing himself.
"Cease this mummery," said the strange knight; "are you a priest, that you can do nought but pray? If you fear the phantoms, kiss your relic, and all will be well."
"I do not fear them," answered Hubert, stoutly; but he nevertheless drew the relic from his bosom, and pressed it devoutly to his lips.
"Let me see this precious fragment, and I will shew you mine," said the black knight. And they compared the two by the light of the carbuncle, and found them precisely alike.
"I have a strange fancy that we should exchange relics as a token of brotherhood," pursued the black knight. "Will you consent?"
"Nay, good knight," said Hubert, "I may not part with so precious a gift, even though yours may be equal to it in sanctity. Let each retain his own."
"Now I look again, mine is larger than yours, and has a nail within it, Which yours has not; therefore I should lose by the exchange," said the black knight, sarcastically. "Disengage the chain from your neck that we may compare them more closely."
"Nay, I part with it not, even for one moment. If you can see it thus, as I hold it forth, well and good,—but it leaves me not."
The black knight stooped to look at the relic, at the same time tendering his own to Hubert's inspection; then, as Hubert also leaned forward, he made a hasty snatch at the chain, and almost succeeded in breaking it; but the links, seven times forged, and blessed by the Pope, proved true to their trust, as Hubert's strong hand did to its hold of the treasure. The black knight was forced, with a deep execration, to release his prey, while Hubert exclaimed—"Avaunt, foul fiend! in the name of all the saints!" As these words were spoken, the black knight dashed his spurs into his horse, from whose nostrils issued volumes of flame and smoke, and plunged into the thick covert of the forest, while all around rang with shrieks of wild, unearthly laughter.
Hubert stared around him in astonishment; then kissing his talisman, he replaced it in his bosom, felt that the Bishop's letters were safe, and resumed his route.
The forest was once more tranquil; the moon shone out; the red light which had occasionally gleamed in the direction of the sound, amid the trees, died away; the cries and shrieks were lost in the distance.
He had ridden, perchance, another mile, when a voice plaining in distress, broke upon his ears. So piteous were the tones that he instantly dismounted; and leading his horse, forced his way through the thicket. He had not proceeded far, before he came to an open space, where, bound to a tree, he descried a venerable looking old man, whose robes of purple and ermine proclaimed him an ecclesiastic of the highest order; near him, was a mule, also tied to a tree, and a dead body, apparently that of a man-at-arms, lying with its face downwards.
"Oh! my son, help!—help, and pity!" cried the old man.
"Holy father, whence this plight?—how may I assist you?" cried Hubert, unbinding him.
"My son, I am the Archbishop of Cologne, and have been grievously beaten and wounded by robbers or evil beings, I know not which. Journeying through this forest to visit the Bishop of Salzburg, with four retainers, and two sumpter mules, I was attacked as I have described, and should have perished, but for your assistance. The body on the ground before you is one of my followers; the others fled, the robbers took my sumpter mules, and all my wealth. Their miscreant leader even carried off a piece of the true cross, which I valued more than all the rest, and which I was about to compare with a similar fragment possessed by my brother, the Bishop of Salzburg."
"That accounts for the relic in the possession of the fiend," thought Hubert. "Mount your mule, holy father, and ride with me to the camp of the great Duke, where you will find protection; and on the morrow, an escort to the Bishop."
"I thank you, my son!—but first, let me pray, and thank the saints for my deliverance. So good a knight as you are must have a crucifix about you."
"I have no crucifix," replied Hubert; "but I have the very fragment of the true cross, alluded to by your grace, which has been confided to me by the Bishop of Salzburg."
"That were better than all," cried the Archbishop. "Lend it me, my son, that I may profit by its virtue."
"Here is the relic, most holy Archbishop," replied Hubert, "but I may not part with it. I will hold it in my hand, while you pray."
Scarcely had the Archbishop put knee to ground, when, seeing Hubert's attention fox the moment distracted, he sprang up, and seizing the relic, attempted to take possession of it; but again Hubert's good fortune prevailed, and enabled him to overthrow the deceiver, who, uttering a piercing shriek, which was answered by the same yells and cries as had before been heard, fell to the ground, and changed instantly into a corpse, his robes becoming the loathsome habiliments of the grave, his goodly person, benign countenance, and venerable white hairs, a mass of corruption. Hubert started in horror; then turned to the body of the pretended retainer, and saw that it had also become a skeleton, while the mule, which had been fastened to a tree, had vanished.
Congratulating himself on his second escape, Hubert again kissed the relic, and having regained the path, proceeded on his journey.
He met with no further adventure, until he had well-nigh gained the outskirts of the forest, when he heard fearful shrieks behind him, and his name called forth in well-known accents. Turning, he saw his beloved Lilla flying wildly after him, her hair unbound, her robes loose and disordered, pursued by a whole host of evil beings.
"Oh, Hubert! save me—save me!" she shrieked.
"Lilla, dearest! what do you here?" cried Hubert, catching her round the waist, and seating her before him on his steed. "Do not tremble, Lilla, you are safe now. But in the name of wonder, how came you here?"
"I know not," she cried, faintly. "I was dragged from my chamber by demons. But spur on your steed, or we shall be taken."
"Fear not," replied Hubert. "Cling closely, and we shall soon be safe. The demons are already giving up the chase. They fear the relic—ha! ha!"
Lilla twined her arms round his neck, and laid her head on his bosom; but every moment she started and shrank, as if in pain, and moaned feebly. When he inquired the cause of her uneasiness, she again crept close to him, and appeared for a time composed. Suddenly, she raised her head, and said, "You are wounded, Hubert, I know it; let me open your vest, and stanch your wound. You bleed, Hubert—you bleed!"
Hubert laughed. "Not so, dearest," he said; "I have received no wound."
But Lilla persisted; she succeeded in opening his vest, all the while caressing him into forgetfulness of his duty, till, in an unguarded moment, she grasped the relic, and at the same time attempted to slide from the horse. But Hubert again conquered. Drawing his dagger, without heeding her prayers and wiles, he severed her hand at the wrist, and flung her from the saddle. She fell to the earth, and glided across the road in the likeness of a beautiful serpent, painted with a thousand colours, and having a crest of gold; and leaving, as she disappeared among the underwood, a shining track of mingled flame and blood. The severed hand fell from the rescued relic, and took the form of a fiendish claw.
This was the last essay of the demons. Hubert arrived safely at the camp of the great Duke, and ere the following noon was again in the presence of the Bishop of Salzburg.
"Well hast thou done, young knight; and many thanks do I owe thee," cried the Bishop. "Thou hast saved me many a rood of goodly land, and many a broad golden crown. Thou hast borne many trials and perils, but thou hast won a rich reward. What dost thou ask? A place among the emperor's guards? or a fort upon the frontiers under thine own command? or a rich estate, with gold to furnish thy castle?"
"Oh, mighty Bishop!" replied Hubert, prostrating himself before the prelate; "there is a treasure greater than all these, that I would fain possess. It is the Lady Lilla—thy fair niece—for a bride."
Then the Bishop's brow grew dark; but Lilla stepped forward, and knelt beside her lover; and they were so lovely—so noble a pair, that he could not say them nay. So he joined their hands, and gave the bride a noble dowry. And she and Hubert lived a life of unclouded happiness and love, and left behind them many princely sons and gentle daughters to inherit their mother's beauty and their father's fame.