Told by the Death's Head: A Romantic Tale by Mór Jókai
CHAPTER I.
THE "FIRE-POT."
The hero of our romantic narrative, or better, narratives, was aconstable. Not one of that useful class appointed, in our day, todirect the vehicles which pass over the two approaches to thesuspension-bridge in Budapest; rather, he was the chief of a bodywhose task it is to provoke disturbance, who win all the more praiseand glory the greater the havoc and destruction they create. In aword: he was a gunner.
The chronicle of his exploits gives only his Christian name, which was"Hugo."
In the year 1688, when the French beleaguered Coblentz, Hugo hadcharge of the battery in the outermost tower of Ehrenbreitsteinfortress--the "Montalembert Tower."
Coblentz and Ehrenbreitstein are opposite one another on the banks ofthe Rhine, as are Pesth and Ofen; and the Blocksberg looks down on us,as does the citadel of Ehrenbreitstein on Coblentz.
The city, which is strongly fortified on all sides, had becomeaccustomed to being beleaguered--now by the French, now by thePrussians; today by the Austrians, tomorrow by the Swedes.
On the occasion of which I write, Coblentz was under a terrible firefrom the French guns, which created great havoc in that portion of thecity known as the "Old Town."
Specially memorable and remarkable was the manner in which the"fire-balls" seemed to know just where to find the abodes of the duke,and the commandant of the fortress. It mattered not how often theychanged their quarters, the Frenchmen would always discover them, andaim accordingly--though it was impossible to see into the city fromoutside the walls. There certainly must have been some witch-craft atwork. Hugo's Montalembert tower was on the side of the fortress mostexposed to the assaults of the enemy; its successful defense,therefore, was all the more worthy of praise.
The management of ordnance in those days was not the comparativelysimple matter it is today, with the Krupp and the Uchatius guns. Itwas a real science to fetch from the furnace a white-hot cannon-ball,ram it into the long, slender culverin, and if, after the discharge,the ball remained sticking in the throat of the gun, to remove it withthe various forceps, nippers, and tongs; and, after every shot, toexamine with a curious implement resembling Mercury's caducens, theinterior of the culverin to learn whether the discharge had caused arupture anywhere.
However, it is not necessary to be a great genius in order to masterall the intricacies and technicalities of a gunner's trade. Anordinary man might even learn, after some practice, how to handle an"elephant;" and, if he were intrusted with the quadrant, he might alsomanage to discharge the heavier bombs with satisfactory result. Itmust be remembered, though, that a gunner needs to possessconsiderable skill as well as experience in order to hurl successfullyagainst the approaching foe a "fire-shield," which dischargessimultaneously from every one of its thirty-five holes as manybullets; and the "storm-tub" requires even more dexterity. Thisimplement of warfare runs on two wheels. The axles are spiked withkeen-edged knives, and the wheels are filled with gunpowder, whichignites and explodes when the machine is set in motion. If the powderignites promptly in both wheels at the same instant, the infernalthing dashes like an infuriated bull into the ranks of the enemy,burning the eyes of some, scorching the beards of others, and hackingand slashing everything with which its revolving knives come incontact. If the powder in only one of the wheels explodes, the machinespins around on the motionless wheel like a top, and scatters anentire company; if the second wheel explodes only half a second afterthe first, then those who have the management of the demon will dowell to take to their heels with all speed possible.
It is not necessary to explain at length the advantages of thechain-shot. Anyone will be able to understand its operation if he willbut remember that, when two balls connected by a chain are dischargedtoward the enemy, and one of the balls strikes a man, the other ballwill, naturally, circle around the unfortunate until the entire lengthof chain is wound tightly about him; the circling ball, meanwhile,will strike with various results: the head, the nose, the ear, or someother portion of the bodies of the soldiers within its radius. It isgreatly to be regretted that the use of the "handle-ball" has beendiscontinued. This weapon was shaped very much like two pot-ladles,bound together at the handles by an iron ring. The man who chanced tobe caught between the two ladles might congratulate himself that heescaped with nothing worse than a choking; while the two soldiers onhis right and left, whose heads had been caught in the bowls of theladles, would remember, to the end of their days, the peculiar anddisagreeable sensation experienced. There were two more wonderfulimplements of warfare: one a German, the other a French invention. Theformer, which was an emanation from Hugo's brain, was called a"_Bombenjungen-werfer_."[1] It was a huge mortar, the central cavitycapable of holding a bomb of fifty pounds weight; surrounding thiscavity were eight smaller bores, each holding a five-pound bomb. Thesame charge hurled every one of the nine bombs in rapid successionfrom the mortar; and one can imagine the astonishment of the Frenchmanwhen, after hearing but one report, the eight "babies" followed, oneafter the other, the mother bomb.
[Footnote 1: Anglice: "Hurler of baby-bombs."]
This was a diversion Hugo prepared for the beleaguerers, who in returninvented an amusement for him. It was a "fire-pot," was shapedexactly like the earthen water-jug the Hungarian reaper carries withhim to the harvest field to preserve his drinking-water fresh andcool. The machine was made of iron, and filled with a diabolicalmixture. It had four spouts--precisely like our water-jug--from whichthe fire would hiss and sputter; it was intended to set fire toeverything combustible where it fell.
The Germans also had what are called "fire-balls," which hiss andspit, and set fire to everything about them; and other bombs whichexplode the moment they touch the earth. The French fire-pot, however,combined these two properties: it set fire first, and explodedafterward.
The beleaguered understood very well how to manage a fire-ball. LikeHelene Zrinyi, the heroine who defended the fortress of Munkacs, theGermans had learned, so soon as a fire-ball fell inside the walls, tocover it with a wet bullock's-hide, which would at once smother thefire-spitting monster, and render it harmless.
But the fire-pot was not to be treated so summarily. If the Germansattempted to smother the fire-demon, to prevent the air from reachinghis four noses, he would burst, and woe to him who chanced to be inthe way of the flying splinters! He, at least, would have no furtherdesire to sport with a fire-pot.
It happened one day that a fire-pot, which had fallen inside thefortress, did not explode after it had hissed and spit out its fury.When it became cool enough it was taken to Hugo.
"Now I shall find out what is inside this dangerous missile," remarkedthe constable; "then I'll make some like it and send them to ourfriends over yonder."
Over the neck of the fire-pot was a sort of hat, shaped like thosecovering the necks of the Hungarian wooden bottles (_esutora_). Thishat, of course, could be removed. After this discovery Hugo invitedthe commandant, the grand-duke, the governor and mayor of the city,the syndic, and the duke's alchemist to be present at the opening ofthe fire-pot.
Now each one of the invited said to himself: "It will be enough if theothers are there--why should I go? The infernal machine may explodewhen they are opening it."
And so they all stopped bravely at home and Hugo alone found out whatwas in the fire-pot.
After it was opened, and Hugo had convinced himself of the nature ofthe diabolical compound it contained, he proceeded to cast severalfire-pots like the French one; and, in the presence of the commandantand the grand-duke, shot them into the enemy's camp. The twodistinguished gentlemen, who were peering through their telescopes,were highly delighted when they saw the bombs, which flew through theair like dragons with tails of fire, reach the points at which theyhad been aimed, ignite everything inflammable, and afterward explode.Now and again it would happen that one of Hugo's fire-pots would failto explode in the Frenchmen's camp, just as theirs would sometimesfail to do what was expected of them. But Hugo always collected the
Oh, I tell you war was conducted in those good old days on economicallines!
As late even as the year 1809 Napoleon had his men collect 28,000 ofthe enemy's cannon-balls on the battle-field of Wagram, and shot themback at the Austrians; and had the fight continued two days longer,the opposing armies would have ricocheted the same balls back andforth so long as the cannonading made it necessary.
The grand-duke, as was proper, rewarded the constable for hisdiscovery by an increase of pay--from sixteen to twenty thalers amonth; and in addition made him a present of a barrel of strong beer,which gave offence to the commandant, who was obliged to quench histhirst with a weaker brew.
Hugo had many enviers, but none of them ventured to pick a quarrelwith him. He had the frame of an athlete; his face, with its luxuriantred-beard, resembled that of a lion. He was always in a good humor; noone had ever seen Hugo angry, embarrassed, or frightened. There wereno traces of trouble and grief on his countenance. He was perhapsforty years of age, was somewhat disfigured by small-pox pits, butwherever there was a pretty girl or woman to be won, Hugo was sure toattract her. He was fond of good living--liked everything to be of thebest, consequently his money never remained long in his pockets.
The constable's epicurean tastes irritated the mayor, who, as chief ofthe city militia, outranked the artillerist. But Hugo managed on alloccasions to out-do his superior officer. Rieke, the trim littlesuttler-wife, would slap the militia captain's fingers if he venturedto give her a chin-chuck, but a hearty hug from the smiling constablenever met with a repulse. In consequence of the siege prices for thenecessaries, as well as for the luxuries of life, had becomeexorbitant in both cities. Three thalers was the unheard-of priceasked at market for a fat goose. The mayor's wife haggled for a longtime about the price without success, when along came pretty Rieke.
"How much for your goose?" she asked.
"Three thalers."
"I'll take it."
She paid the money and marched away with the goose.
By some means the mayor learned that Hugo had a baked fat goose forhis dinner.
"Look here, constable," he said next day to the artillerist, "howcomes it that you can afford to feast on fat goose while I, the mayor,and your superior officer, must content myself with lean herring,cheese and bread? Your pay is only twenty thalers a month; mine isthree florins a day. Pray tell me how you manage it?"
To which Hugo made answer:
"Well, mayor, if I wanted to deceive you, I should say that the moneyfor all the good things I enjoy does not come from my pocket; thatRieke, who is infatuated with me (how I managed _that_ part of thebusiness I shouldn't tell you), supplies me with whatever I want. ButI'll be honest with you and tell you the truth--but pray don't betraymy secret, for I don't want to have anything to do with the priests.What I tell you is in strictest confidence and must not go anyfarther: I have a magic thaler, one of those coins, vulgarly called a'breeding-penny,' that always returns to my pocket no matter how oftenI may spend it--"
"You don't say so! And how came you by such a coin, constable?"
"I'll tell you that, too, mayor, only be careful not to let theCapuchins hear of it. I got the thaler in the Hochstatt marshes, froma _bocksritter_--"[2]
[Footnote 2: Satyr.]
"I hope you didn't bond your soul to him for it?" interrupted themayor.
"Not I. I outwitted the devil by giving the ritter an ignorant Jew ladin my stead."
"You must keep that transaction a secret," cautioned the mayor; thenhe hastened to repeat what he had heard to the grand-duke.
"Would to heaven every thaler I possess were a breeding-penny!"exclaimed the high-born gentleman. "It would make the carrying on awar an easy matter."
From the day it became known that Constable Hugo possessed thatnever-failing treasure, a magic coin, and was in league with theall-powerful bocksritter, he rose in the esteem of his fellows.
Meanwhile Ehrenbreitstein and Coblentz continued under bombardmentfrom the Frenchmen. The enemy's fire-pots never failed to find thegrand-duke's quarters, notwithstanding the fact that he changed themevery day. This at last became so annoying that treason began to besuspected, and the duke offered a reward for the detection of the spywho gave the information to the enemy. That a spy was at work in theGerman camp was beyond question, though the outlets of both citieswere so closely guarded that it would have been impossible for aliving mortal to pass through them. Nor could the treason have beencommitted by means of carrier-pigeons, for, whatever of domesticfowl-kind had been in the cities had long since been devoured by thehungry citizens. The mayor, ever on the alert for transgressors, hadhis suspicions as to who might be the spy. Every man but one in thebeleaguered cities fasted, lamented, prayed, cursed, wept, as the casemight be, save this one man, who remained constantly cheerful,smiling, well-fed.
When one of the Frenchmen's fiery monsters came hissing and spittinginto the fortress this one man, instead of taking to his heels andseeking the shelter of a cellar, as did the rest of his comrades,would coolly wait until the fire-pot fell to the ground, and, if itfailed to burst he would dig it out of the earth into which it hadbored itself and carry it to the foundry.
Surely this was more than foolhardiness!
The constable always opened the enemy's unexploded fire-pots in hissubterranean work-room; refilled them there, then hurled them backwithout delay. There was something more than amusement behind this.
One day, when Hugo came up from his subterranean workroom, heencountered the mayor, who said to him:
"Stay, constable, I want to see what you put into that fire-pot--openit."
Without a moment's hesitation Hugo unscrewed the lid and revealed theexplosives wrapped in coarse linen; at the same time he explained howmuch gunpowder, hazel-wood charcoal, sulphur, resin, pitch,sal-ammoniac, borax and acetate of lead were necessary to make up theamount of unquenchable fire required for the bomb.
"Very good," quoth the city functionary, "but what beside these isthere in the bottom of the pot?"
"Under this earthen plate, your honor, is more gunpowder. When theexplosives on top are burnt out this plate, which has become red-hot,explodes the powder and bursts the bomb--that is the whole secret ofthe infernal machine."
"I should like to see what is under the earthen plate."
As the mayor spoke these words the constable gave a sudden glance overhis shoulder. In the glance was expressed all the temerity of theadventurer, mingled with rage, determination and alarm. But only foran instant. The mayor's bailiffs surrounded him, closing every avenueof escape. Then he burst into a loud laugh, shrugged his shoulders,and said:
"Very well, your honor, see for yourself what is under the earthenplate."
The mayor forced open with the blade of his pocket-knife the earthenplate. There was no powder in the bottom of the bomb, only someordinary sand; but in it was concealed a folded paper that contained aminute description of the situation in the German camp.
"Bind him in chains!" exclaimed the mayor in a triumphant voice. "Atlast we have the proofs of your treachery, knave! I'll give you apretty Rieke! I'll serve up a fat goose for you!"
Hugo continued to laugh while the bailiffs were placing the fetters onhis hands and feet.
As if to complete the evidence against him, there came hissing at thatmoment a fire-pot from the French camp. When it was opened and theearthen plate removed it was found to contain two hundred Albertthalers!