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Books: Peter Schlemihl etc.

C >> Chamisso et. al. >> Peter Schlemihl etc.

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Transcribed from he 1889 Cassell & Company edition by David Price,
email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk




PETER SCHLEMIHL ETC.




Contents:
Introduction by Henry Morley
Peter Schlemihl by Adelbert Chamisso
Peter Schlemihl
Appendix
Preface by the Editor
Brief Sketch of Chamisso's Life
From the Baron de la Motte Fouque
The Story Without An End by Carode translated by Sarah Austin
Hymns To Night by Novalis translated by Henry Morley



INTRODUCTION.



"Peter Schlemihl," one of the pleasantest fancies of the days when
Germany delighted in romance, was first published in 1814, and was
especially naturalised in England by association with the genius of
George Cruikshank, who enriched a translation of it with some of his
happiest work as an illustrator. An account of the book and its
author is here reprinted at the end of the tale, as originally given
by the translator. To this account one or two notes may be added.
Louis Charles Adelaide de Chamisso de Boncourt was born on the 27th
of January, 1781, at the Chateau of Boncourt, in Champagne, which he
made the subject of one of his most beautiful lyrics. He belonged
to a family faithful to Louis XVI., that fled to Wurzburg from the
fury of the French Revolution. Thus he was taken to Germany a child
of nine, and was left there when the family, with other emigrants,
returned to France in 1801. At fifteen he had Teutonised his name
to Adelbert von Chamisso, and was appointed page to the Queen of
Prussia. In the war that came afterwards, for a very short time he
bore arms against the French, but being one of a garrison taken in
the captured fort of Hamlin, he and his comrades had to pledge their
honour that they would not again bear arms against France during
that war. After the war he visited France. His parents then were
dead, and though he stayed in France some years, he wrote from
France to a friend, "I am German heart and soul, and cannot feel at
home here." He wandered irresolutely, then became Professor of
Literature in a gymnasium in La Vendee. Still he was restless. In
1812 he set off for a walk in Switzerland, returned to Germany, and
took to the study of anatomy. In 1813, Napoleon's expedition to
Russia and the peril to France from legions marching upon Paris
caused to Chamisso suffering and confusion of mind.

It is often said that his sense of isolation between interests of
the land of his forefathers and the land of his adoption makes
itself felt through all the wild playfulness of "Peter Schlemihl,"
which was at this time written, when Chamisso's age was about
thirty-two. A letter of his to the Councillor Trinius, in
Petersburg, tells how he came to write it. He had lost on a
pedestrian tour his hat, his knapsack, his gloves, and his pocket
handkerchief--the chief movables about him. His friend Fouque asked
him whether he hadn't also lost his shadow? The friends pleased
their fancies in imagining what would have happened to him if he
had. Not long afterwards he was reading in La Fontaine of a polite
man who drew out of his pocket whatever was asked for. Chamisso
thought, He will be bringing out next a coach and horses. Out of
these hints came the fancy of "Peter Schlemihl, the Shadowless Man."
In all thought that goes with invention of a poet, there are depths
as well as shallows, and the reader may get now and then a peep into
the depths. He may find, if he will, in a man's shadow that outward
expression of himself which shows that he has been touched, like
others, by the light of heaven. But essentially the story is a
poet's whim. Later writings of Chamisso proved him to be one of the
best lyric poets of the romance school of his time, entirely German
in his tone of thought. His best poem, "Salas y Gomez," describes
the feeling of a solitary on a sea-girt rock, living on eggs of the
numberless sea-birds until old age, when a ship is in sight, and
passes him, and his last agony of despair is followed by a triumph
in the strength of God.


"Alone and world-forsaken let me die;
Thy Grace is all my wealth, for all my loss:
On my bleached bones out of the southern sky
Thy Love will look down from the starry cross."


The "Story Without an End"--a story of the endless beauty of
Creation--is from a writer who has no name on the rolls of fame.
The little piece has been made famous among us by the good will of
Sarah Austin. The child who enjoyed it, and for whom she made the
delicate translation which here follows next after Chamisso's "Peter
Schlemihl," was that only daughter who became Lady Duff-Gordon, and
with whom we have made acquaintance in this Library as the
translator of "The Amber Witch."

To make up the tale of pages in this little book without breaking
its uniformity, I have added a translation of the "Hymns to Night"
of Novalis. It is a translation made by myself seven-and-forty
years ago, and printed in a student's magazine that I then edited.
"Novalis" was the name assumed by a poet, Friedrich von Hardenberg,
who died on the 25th March, 1801, aged twenty-nine. He was bred
among the Moravian brethren, and then sent to the University of
Jena. Two years after his marriage to a young wife, Sophie von
Kuhn, she died. That was in 1797. At the same time he lost a
brother who was very dear to him. It was then--four years before
his own death--that he wrote his "Hymns to Night."

H. M.




PETER SCHLEMIHL, THE SHADOWLESS MAN.




INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE FROM
A. VON CHAMISSO TO JULIUS EDWARD HITZIG.



You, who forget nobody, must surely remember one Peter Schlemihl,
whom you used to meet occasionally at my house--a long-legged youth,
who was considered stupid and lazy, on account of his awkward and
careless air. I was sincerely attached to him. You cannot have
forgotten him, Edward. He was on one occasion the hero of our
rhymes, in the hey-day of our youthful spirits; and I recollect
taking him one evening to a poetical tea-party, where he fell asleep
while I was writing, without even waiting to hear my effusion: and
this reminds me of a witticism of yours respecting him. You had
already seen him, I know not where or when, in an old black frock-
coat, which, indeed, he constantly wore; and you said, "He would be
a lucky fellow if his soul were half as immortal as his coat," so
little opinion had you of him. _I_ loved him, however: and to this
very Schlemihl, of whom for many years I had wholly lost sight, I am
indebted for the little volume which I communicate to you, Edward,
my most intimate friend, my second self, from whom I have no
secrets;--to you, and of course our Fouque, I commit them, who like
you is intimately entwined about my dearest affections,--to him I
communicate them only as a friend, but not as a poet; for you can
easily imagine how unpleasant it would be if a secret confided to me
by an honest man, relying implicitly on my friendship and honour,
were to be exposed to the public in a poem.

One word more as to the manner in which I obtained these sheets:
yesterday morning early, as soon as I was up, they were brought to
me. An extraordinary-looking man, with a long grey beard, and
wearing an old black frock-coat with a botanical case hanging at his
side, and slippers over his boots, in the damp, rainy weather, had
just been inquiring for me, and left me these papers, saying he came
from Berlin.

ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO.



CHAPTER I.



After a prosperous, but to me very wearisome, voyage, we came at
last into port. Immediately on landing I got together my few
effects; and, squeezing myself through the crowd, went into the
nearest and humblest inn which first met my gaze. On asking for a
room the waiter looked at me from head to foot, and conducted me to
one. I asked for some cold water, and for the correct address of
Mr. Thomas John, which was described as being "by the north gate,
the first country-house to the right, a large new house of red and
white marble, with many pillars." This was enough. As the day was
not yet far advanced, I untied my bundle, took out my newly-turned
black coat, dressed myself in my best clothes, and, with my letter
of recommendation, set out for the man who was to assist me in the
attainment of my moderate wishes.

After proceeding up the north street, I reached the gate, and saw
the marble columns glittering through the trees. Having wiped the
dust from my shoes with my pocket-handkerchief and readjusted my
cravat, I rang the bell--offering up at the same time a silent
prayer. The door flew open, and the porter sent in my name. I had
soon the honour to be invited into the park, where Mr. John was
walking with a few friends. I recognised him at once by his
corpulency and self-complacent air. He received me very well--just
as a rich man receives a poor devil; and turning to me, took my
letter. "Oh, from my brother! it is a long time since I heard from
him: is he well?--Yonder," he went on,--turning to the company, and
pointing to a distant hill--"Yonder is the site of the new
building." He broke the seal without discontinuing the
conversation, which turned upon riches. "The man," he said, "who
does not possess at least a million is a poor wretch." "Oh, how
true!" I exclaimed, in the fulness of my heart. He seemed pleased
at this, and replied with a smile, "Stop here, my dear friend;
afterwards I shall, perhaps, have time to tell you what I think of
this," pointing to the letter, which he then put into his pocket,
and turned round to the company, offering his arm to a young lady:
his example was followed by the other gentlemen, each politely
escorting a lady; and the whole party proceeded towards a little
hill thickly planted with blooming roses.

I followed without troubling any one, for none took the least
further notice of me. The party was in high spirits--lounging about
and jesting--speaking sometimes of trifling matters very seriously,
and of serious matters as triflingly--and exercising their wit in
particular to great advantage on their absent friends and their
affairs. I was too ignorant of what they were talking about to
understand much of it, and too anxious and absorbed in my own
reflections to occupy myself with the solution of such enigmas as
their conversation presented.

By this time we had reached the thicket of roses. The lovely Fanny,
who seemed to be the queen of the day, was obstinately bent on
plucking a rose-branch for herself, and in the attempt pricked her
finger with a thorn. The crimson stream, as if flowing from the
dark-tinted rose, tinged her fair hand with the purple current.
This circumstance set the whole company in commotion; and court-
plaster was called for. A quiet, elderly man, tall, and meagre-
looking, who was one of the company, but whom I had not before
observed, immediately put his hand into the tight breast-pocket of
his old-fashioned coat of grey sarsnet, pulled out a small letter-
case, opened it, and, with a most respectful bow, presented the lady
with the wished-for article. She received it without noticing the
giver, or thanking him. The wound was bound up, and the party
proceeded along the hill towards the back part, from which they
enjoyed an extensive view across the green labyrinth of the park to
the wide-spreading ocean. The view was truly a magnificent one. A
slight speck was observed on the horizon, between the dark flood and
the azure sky. "A telescope!" called out Mr. John; but before any
of the servants could answer the summons the grey man, with a modest
bow, drew his hand from his pocket, and presented a beautiful
Dollond's telescope to Mr. John, who, on looking through it,
informed the company that the speck in the distance was the ship
which had sailed yesterday, and which was detained within sight of
the haven by contrary winds. The telescope passed from hand to
hand, but was not returned to the owner, whom I gazed at with
astonishment, and could not conceive how so large an instrument
could have proceeded from so small a pocket. This, however, seemed
to excite surprise in no one; and the grey man appeared to create as
little interest as myself.

Refreshments were now brought forward, consisting of the rarest
fruits from all parts of the world, served up in the most costly
dishes. Mr. John did the honours with unaffected grace, and
addressed me for the second time, saying, "You had better eat; you
did not get such things at sea." I acknowledged his politeness with
a bow, which, however, he did not perceive, having turned round to
speak with some one else.

The party would willingly have stopped some time here on the
declivity of the hill, to enjoy the extensive prospect before them,
had they not been apprehensive of the dampness of the grass. "How
delightful it would be," exclaimed some one, "if we had a Turkey
carpet to lay down here!" The wish was scarcely expressed when the
man in the grey coat put his hand in his pocket, and, with a modest
and even humble air, pulled out a rich Turkey carpet, embroidered in
gold. The servant received it as a matter of course, and spread it
out on the desired spot; and, without any ceremony, the company
seated themselves on it. Confounded by what I saw, I gazed again at
the man, his pocket, and the carpet, which was more than twenty feet
in length and ten in breadth; and rubbed my eyes, not knowing what
to think, particularly as no one saw anything extraordinary in the
matter.

I would gladly have made some inquiries respecting the man, and
asked who he was, but knew not to whom I should address myself, for
I felt almost more afraid of the servants than of their master. At
length I took courage, and stepping up to a young man who seemed of
less consequence than the others, and who was more frequently
standing by himself, I begged of him, in a low tone, to tell me who
the obliging gentleman was in the grey cloak. "That man who looks
like a piece of thread just escaped from a tailor's needle?" "Yes;
he who is standing alone yonder." "I do not know," was the reply;
and to avoid, as it seemed, any further conversation with me, he
turned away, and spoke of some common-place matters with a
neighbour.

The sun's rays now being stronger, the ladies complained of feeling
oppressed by the heat; and the lovely Fanny, turning carelessly to
the grey man, to whom I had not yet observed that any one had
addressed the most trifling question, asked him if, perhaps, he had
not a tent about him. He replied, with a low bow, as if some
unmerited honour had been conferred upon him; and, putting his hand
in his pocket, drew from it canvas, poles, cord, iron--in short,
everything belonging to the most splendid tent for a party of
pleasure. The young gentlemen assisted in pitching it: and it
covered the whole carpet: but no one seemed to think that there was
anything extraordinary in it.

I had long secretly felt uneasy--indeed, almost horrified; but how
was this feeling increased when, at the next wish expressed, I saw
him take from his pocket three horses! Yes, Adelbert, three large
beautiful steeds, with saddles and bridles, out of the very pocket
whence had already issued a letter-case, a telescope, a carpet
twenty feet broad and ten in length, and a pavilion of the same
extent, with all its appurtenances! Did I not assure thee that my
own eyes had seen all this, thou wouldst certainly disbelieve it.

This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air
and manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a
feeling of horror by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from
which I could not avert my eyes, that I was unable longer to endure
it.

I determined, therefore, to steal away from the company, which
appeared no difficult matter, from the undistinguished part I acted
in it. I resolved to return to the town, and pay another visit to
Mr. John the following morning, and, at the same time, make some
inquiries of him relative to the extraordinary man in grey, provided
I could command sufficient courage. Would to Heaven that such good
fortune had awaited me!

I had stolen safely down the hill, through the thicket of roses, and
now found myself on an open plain; but fearing lest I should be met
out of the proper path, crossing the grass, I cast an inquisitive
glance around, and started as I beheld the man in the grey cloak
advancing towards me. He took off his hat, and made me a lower bow
than mortal had ever yet favoured me with. It was evident that he
wished to address me; and I could not avoid encountering him without
seeming rude. I returned his salutation, therefore, and stood
bareheaded in the sunshine as if rooted to the ground. I gazed at
him with the utmost horror, and felt like a bird fascinated by a
serpent.

He affected himself to have an air of embarrassment. With his eyes
on the ground, he bowed several times, drew nearer, and at last,
without looking up, addressed me in a low and hesitating voice,
almost in the tone of a suppliant: "Will you, sir, excuse my
importunity in venturing to intrude upon you in so unusual a manner?
I have a request to make--would you most graciously be pleased to
allow me--!" "Hold! for Heaven's sake!" I exclaimed; "what can I do
for a man who"--I stopped in some confusion, which he seemed to
share. After a moment's pause, he resumed: "During the short time
I have had the pleasure to be in your company, I have--permit me,
sir, to say--beheld with unspeakable admiration your most beautiful
shadow, and remarked the air of noble indifference with which you,
at the same time, turn from the glorious picture at your feet, as if
disdaining to vouchsafe a glance at it. Excuse the boldness of my
proposal; but perhaps you would have no objection to sell me your
shadow?" He stopped, while my head turned round like a mill-wheel.
What was I to think of so extraordinary a proposal? To sell my
shadow! "He must be mad," thought I; and assuming a tone more in
character with the submissiveness of his own, I replied, "My good
friend, are you not content with your own shadow? This would be a
bargain of a strange nature indeed!"

"I have in my pocket," he said, "many things which may possess some
value in your eyes: for that inestimable shadow I should deem the
highest price too little."

A cold shuddering came over me as I recollected the pocket; and I
could not conceive what had induced me to style him "GOOD FRIEND,"
which I took care not to repeat, endeavouring to make up for it by a
studied politeness.

I now resumed the conversation: --"But, Sir--excuse your humble
servant--I am at a loss to comprehend your meaning,--my shadow?--how
can I?"

"Permit me," he exclaimed, interrupting me, "to gather up the noble
image as it lies on the ground, and to take it into my possession.
As to the manner of accomplishing it, leave that to me. In return,
and as an evidence of my gratitude, I shall leave you to choose
among all the treasures I have in my pocket, among which are a
variety of enchanting articles, not exactly adapted for you, who, I
am sure, would like better to have the wishing-cap of Fortunatus,
all made new and sound again, and a lucky purse which also belonged
to him."

"Fortunatus's purse!" cried I; and, great as was my mental anguish,
with that one word he had penetrated the deepest recesses of my
soul. A feeling of giddiness came over me, and double ducats
glittered before my eyes.

"Be pleased, gracious sir, to examine this purse, and make a trial
of its contents." He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a
large strongly stitched bag of stout Cordovan leather, with a couple
of strings to match, and presented it to me. I seized it--took out
ten gold pieces, then ten more, and this I repeated again and again.
Instantly I held out my hand to him. "Done," said I; "the bargain
is made: my shadow for the purse." "Agreed," he answered; and,
immediately kneeling down, I beheld him, with extraordinary
dexterity, gently loosen my shadow from the grass, lift it up, fold
it together, and, at last put it in his pocket. He then rose, bowed
once more to me, and directed his steps towards the rose bushes. I
fancied I heard him quietly laughing to himself. However, I held
the purse fast by the two strings. The earth was basking beneath
the brightness of the sun; but I presently lost all consciousness.

On recovering my senses, I hastened to quit a place where I hoped
there was nothing further to detain me. I first filled my pockets
with gold, then fastened the strings of the purse round my neck, and
concealed it in my bosom. I passed unnoticed out of the park,
gained the high road, and took the way to the town. As I was
thoughtfully approaching the gate, I heard some one behind me
exclaiming, "Young man! young man! you have lost your shadow!" I
turned, and perceived an old woman calling after me. "Thank you, my
good woman," said I; and throwing her a piece of gold for her well-
intended information, I stepped under the trees. At the gate,
again, it was my fate to hear the sentry inquiring where the
gentleman had left his shadow; and immediately I heard a couple of
women exclaiming, "Jesu Maria! the poor man has no shadow." All
this began to depress me, and I carefully avoided walking in the
sun; but this could not everywhere be the case: for in the next
broad street I had to cross, and, unfortunately for me, at the very
hour in which the boys were coming out of school, a humpbacked lout
of a fellow--I see him yet--soon made the discovery that I was
without a shadow, and communicated the news, with loud outcries, to
a knot of young urchins. The whole swarm proceeded immediately to
reconnoitre me, and to pelt me with mud. "People," cried they, "are
generally accustomed to take their shadows with them when they walk
in the sunshine."

In order to drive them away I threw gold by handfuls among them, and
sprang into a hackney-coach which some compassionate spectators sent
to my rescue.

As soon as I found myself alone in the rolling vehicle I began to
weep bitterly. I had by this time a misgiving that, in the same
degree in which gold in this world prevails over merit and virtue,
by so much one's shadow excels gold; and now that I had sacrificed
my conscience for riches, and given my shadow in exchange for mere
gold, what on earth would become of me?

As the coach stopped at the door of my late inn, I felt much
perplexed, and not at all disposed to enter so wretched an abode. I
called for my things, and received them with an air of contempt,
threw down a few gold pieces, and desired to be conducted to a
first-rate hotel. This house had a northern aspect, so that I had
nothing to fear from the sun. I dismissed the coachman with gold;
asked to be conducted to the best apartment, and locked myself up in
it as soon as possible.

Imagine, my friend, what I then set about? O my dear Chamisso! even
to thee I blush to mention what follows.

I drew the ill-fated purse from my bosom; and, in a sort of frenzy
that raged like a self-fed fire within me, I took out gold--gold--
gold--more and more, till I strewed it on the floor, trampled upon
it, and feasting on its very sound and brilliancy, added coins to
coins, rolling and revelling on the gorgeous bed, until I sank
exhausted.

Thus passed away that day and evening; and as my door remained
locked, night found me still lying on the gold, where, at last,
sleep overpowered me.

Then I dreamed of thee, and fancied I stood behind the glass door of
thy little room, and saw thee seated at thy table between a skeleton
and a bunch of dried plants; before thee lay open the works of
Haller, Humboldt, and Linnaeus; on thy sofa a volume of Goethe, and
the Enchanted Ring. I stood a long time contemplating thee, and
everything in thy apartment; and again turning my gaze upon thee, I
perceived that thou wast motionless--thou didst not breathe--thou
wast dead.

I awoke--it seemed yet early--my watch had stopped. I felt thirsty,
faint, and worn out; for since the preceding morning I had not
tasted food. I now cast from me, with loathing and disgust, the
very gold with which but a short time before I had satiated my
foolish heart. Now I knew not where to put it--I dared not leave it
lying there. I examined my purse to see if it would hold it,--
impossible! Neither of my windows opened on the sea. I had no
other resource but, with toil and great fatigue, to drag it to a
huge chest which stood in a closet in my room; where I placed it
all, with the exception of a handful or two. Then I threw myself,
exhausted, into an arm-chair, till the people of the house should be
up and stirring. As soon as possible I sent for some refreshment,
and desired to see the landlord.

I entered into some conversation with this man respecting the
arrangement of my future establishment. He recommended for my
personal attendant one Bendel, whose honest and intelligent
countenance immediately prepossessed me in his favour. It is this
individual whose persevering attachment has consoled me in all the
miseries of my life, and enabled me to bear up under my wretched
lot. I was occupied the whole day in my room with servants in want
of a situation, and tradesmen of every description. I decided on my
future plans, and purchased various articles of vertu and splendid
jewels, in order to get rid of some of my gold; but nothing seemed
to diminish the inexhaustible heap.

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