Zigzag Journeys in Northern Lands Part 34

He was required to cast a bell for the Magdalen Church tower of that city of n.o.ble churches,--Breslau. He felt that this was opportunity for his masterpiece. All of his thoughts centred on the Magdalen bell.

After a long period of preparation, his metals were arranged for use. The form was walled up and made steady; the melting of the metals in the great bell-kettle had begun.

The old bell-founder had two faults which had grown upon him; a love of ale and a fiery temper.

While the metals were heating in the kettle, he said to his fire-watch, a little boy,--

"Tend the kettle for a moment; I am overwrought: I must go over to the inn, and take my ale, and nerve me for the casting.

"But, boy," he added, "touch not the stopple; if you do, you shall rue it. That bell is my life, I have put all I have learned in life into it. If any man were to touch that stopple, I would strike him dead."

[Ill.u.s.tration: FINISHING THE BELL.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: AT THE INN.]

The boy had an over-sensitive, nervous temperament. He was easily excited, and was subject to impulses that he could not easily control.

The command that he should not touch the stopple, under the dreadful penalty, strongly affected his mind, and made him wish to do the very thing he had been forbidden.

He watched the metal in the great kettle. It bubbled, billowed, and ran to and fro. In the composition of the glowing ma.s.s he knew that his master had put his heart and soul.

It would be a bold thing to touch the stopple,--adventurous. His hand began to move towards it.

The evil impulse grew, and his hand moved on.

He touched the stopple. The impulse was a wild pa.s.sion now,--he turned it.

Then his mind grew dark--he was filled with horror. He ran to his master.

"I have turned the stopple; I could not help it," he said. "The Devil tempted me!"

The old bell-founder clasped his hands and looked upward in agony.

Then his temper flashed over him. He seized his knife, and stabbed the boy to the heart.

He rushed back to the foundry, hoping to stay the stream. He found the metal whole; the turning of the stopple had not caused the metal to flow.

The boy lay dead on the ground.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DAY OF EXECUTION.]

The old bell-founder knew the consequences of his act, and he did not seek to escape them. He cast the bell; then he went to the magistrates, and said,--

"My work is done; but I am a murderer. Do with me as you will."

The trial was short; it greatly excited the city. The judges could not do otherwise than sentence him to death. But as he was penitent, he was promised that on the day of his execution he should receive the offices and consolations of the Church.

"You are good," he said. "But grant me another favor. My bells will delight many ears when I am gone; my soul is in them; grant me another favor."

"Name it," said the judges.

"That I may hear the sound of my new bell before I die."

The judges consulted, and answered,--

"It shall toll for your execution."

The fatal day came.

Toll, toll, toll!

There was a sadness in the tone of the bell that touched every heart in Breslau. The bell seemed human.

Toll, toll, toll!

How melodious! how perfect! how beautiful! The very air seemed charmed! The years would come and go, and this bell would be the tongue of Breslau!

The old man came forth. He had forgotten his fate in listening to the bell. The heavy clang was so melodious that it filled his heart with joy.

"That is it! that is it; my heart, my life!" he said. "I know all the metals; I made the voice! Ring on, ring on forever! Ring in holy days, and happy festivals, and joy eternal to Breslau."

Toll, toll, toll!

On pa.s.sed the white-haired man, listening still to the call of the bell that summoned him to death.

He bowed his head at the place of execution to meet the stroke just as the last tone of the bell melted upon the air. His soul pa.s.sed amid the silvery echoes. The bell rings on.

"Ay, of all bells that ever He cast, is this the crown, The bell of Church St. Magdalen At Breslau in the town.

It was, from that time forward, Baptized the Sinner's Bell; Whether it still is called so, Is more than I can tell."

"There is a sadness in the bells of the Rhine," continued Mr. Beal, "as they ring from old belfries at evening under the ruins of the castles on the hills. The lords of the Rhine that once heard them are gone forever. The vineyards creep up the hills on the light trellises, and the sun and the earth, as it were, fill the grapes with wine. The woods are as green as of old. The rafts go drifting down the light waves as on feet of air. But the river of history is changed, and one feels the spirit of the change with deep sadness as one listens to the bells."

THE LIGHTS HAVE GONE OUT IN THE CASTLE.

I.

The boatmen strike lightly the zither As they drift 'neath the hillsides of green, But gone from the Rhine is the palgrave, And gone is the palgravine.

Play lightly, play lightly, O boatman, When the shadows of night round thee fall, For the lights have gone out in the castle, The lights have gone out in the hall.

And the Rhine waters silently flow, The old bells ring solemn and slow, O boatman, Play lightly, Play lightly, O boatman, play lightly and low.

II.

Awake the old runes on the zither, O boatman! the lips of the Rhine Still kiss the green ruins of ivy, And smile on the vineyards of wine.

Play lightly, play lightly, O boatman, When the shadows of night round thee fall, For the lights have gone out in the castle, The lights have gone out in the hall.

And the Rhine waters silently flow, The old bells ring solemn and slow, O boatman, Play lightly, Play lightly, O boatman, play lightly and low.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ABOVE THE TOWN.]

III.