A Dreamer's Tales
Page 3
THE MADNESS OF ANDELSPRUTZ
I first saw the city of Andelsprutz on an afternoon in spring. The day wasfull of sunshine as I came by the way of the fields, and all that morningI had said, "There will be sunlight on it when I see for the first timethe beautiful conquered city whose fame has so often made for me lovelydreams." Suddenly I saw its fortifications lifting out of the fields, andbehind them stood its belfries. I went in by a gate and saw its houses andstreets, and a great disappointment came upon me. For there is an airabout a city, and it has a way with it, whereby a man may recognized onefrom another at once. There are cities full of happiness and cities fullof pleasure, and cities full of gloom. There are cities with their facesto heaven, and some with their faces to earth; some have a way of lookingat the past and others look at the future; some notice you if you comeamong them, others glance at you, others let you go by. Some love thecities that are their neighbours, others are dear to the plains and to theheath; some cities are bare to the wind, others have purple cloaks andothers brown cloaks, and some are clad in white. Some tell the old tale oftheir infancy, with others it is secret; some cities sing and some mutter,some are angry, and some have broken hearts, and each city has her way ofgreeting Time.
I had said: "I will see Andelsprutz arrogant with her beauty," and I hadsaid: "I will see her weeping over her conquest."
I had said: "She will sing songs to me," and "she will be reticent," "shewill be all robed," and "she will be bare but splendid."
But the windows of Andelsprutz in her houses looked vacantly over theplains like the eyes of a dead madman. At the hour her chimes soundedunlovely and discordant, some of them were out of tune, and the bells ofsome were cracked, her roofs were bald and without moss. At evening nopleasant rumour arose in her streets. When the lamps were lit in thehouses no mystical flood of light stole out into the dusk, you merely sawthat there were lighted lamps; Andelsprutz had no way with her and no airabout her. When the night fell and the blinds were all drawn down, then Iperceived what I had not thought in the daylight. I knew then thatAndelsprutz was dead.
I saw a fair-haired man who drank beer in a cafe, and I said to him:
"Why is the city of Andelsprutz quite dead, and her soul gone hence?"
He answered: "Cities do not have souls and there is never any life inbricks."
And I said to him: "Sir, you have spoken truly."
And I asked the same question of another man, and he gave me the sameanswer, and I thanked him for his courtesy. And I saw a man of a moreslender build, who had black hair, and channels in his cheeks for tears torun in, and I said to him:
"Why is Andelsprutz quite dead, and when did her soul go hence?"
And he answered: "Andelsprutz hoped too much. For thirty years would shestretch out her arms toward the land of Akla every night, to Mother Aklafrom whom she had been stolen. Every night she would be hoping andsighing, and stretching out her arms to Mother Akla. At midnight, once ayear, on the anniversary of the terrible day, Akla would send spies to laya wreath against the walls of Andelsprutz. She could do no more. And onthis night, once in every year, I used to weep, for weeping was the moodof the city that nursed me. Every night while other cities slept didAndelsprutz sit brooding here and hoping, till thirty wreaths laymouldering by her walls, and still the armies of Akla could not come.
"But after she had hoped so long, and on the night that faithful spies hadbrought her thirtieth wreath, Andelsprutz went suddenly mad. All the bellsclanged hideously in the belfries, horses bolted in the streets, the dogsall howled, the stolid conquerors awoke and turned in their beds and sleptagain; and I saw the grey shadowy form of Andelsprutz rise up, decking herhair with the phantasms of cathedrals, and stride away from her city. Andthe great shadowy form that was the soul of Andelsprutz went awaymuttering to the mountains, and there I followed her--for had she not beenmy nurse? Yes, I went away alone into the mountains, and for three days,wrapped in a cloak, I slept in their misty solitudes. I had no food toeat, and to drink I had only the water of the mountain streams. By day noliving thing was near to me, and I heard nothing but the noise of thewind, and the mountain streams roaring. But for three nights I heard allround me on the mountain the sounds of a great city: I saw the lights oftall cathedral windows flash momentarily on the peaks, and at times theglimmering lantern of some fortress patrol. And I saw the huge mistyoutline of the soul of Andelsprutz sitting decked with her ghostlycathedrals, speaking to herself, with her eyes fixed before her in a madstare, telling of ancient wars. And her confused speech for all thosenights upon the mountain was sometimes the voice of traffic, and then ofchurch bells, and then of bugles, but oftenest it was the voice of redwar; and it was all incoherent, and she was quite mad.
"The third night it rained heavily all night long, but I stayed up thereto watch the soul of my native city. And she still sat staring straightbefore her, raving; but here voice was gentler now, there were more chimesin it, and occasional song. Midnight passed, and the rain still swept downon me, and still the solitudes of the mountain were full of the mutteringsof the poor mad city. And the hours after midnight came, the cold hourswherein sick men die.
"Suddenly I was aware of great shapes moving in the rain, and heard thesound of voices that were not of my city nor yet of any that I ever knew.And presently I discerned, though faintly, the souls of a great concourseof cities, all bending over Andelsprutz and comforting her, and theravines of the mountains roared that night with the voices of cities thathad lain still for centuries. For there came the soul of Camelot that hadso long ago forsaken Usk; and there was Ilion, all girt with towers, stillcursing the sweet face of ruinous Helen; I saw there Babylon andPersepolis, and the bearded face of bull-like Nineveh, and Athens mourningher immortal gods.
"All these souls if cities that were dead spoke that night on the mountainto my city and soothed her, until at last she muttered of war no longer,and her eyes stared wildly no more, but she hid her face in her hands andfor some while wept softly. At last she arose, and walking slowly and withbended head, and leaning upon Ilion and Carthage, went mournfullyeastwards; and the dust of her highways swirled behind her as she went, aghostly dust that never turned to mud in all that drenching rain. And sothe souls of the cities led her away, and gradually they disappeared fromthe mountain, and the ancient voices died away in the distance.
"Now since then have I seen my city alive; but once I met with a travelerwho said that somewhere in the midst of a great desert are gatheredtogether the souls of all dead cities. He said that he was lost once in aplace where there was no water, and he heard their voices speaking all thenight."
But I said: "I was once without water in a desert and heard a cityspeaking to me, but knew not whether it really spoke to me or not, for onthat day I heard so many terrible things, and only some of them weretrue."
And the man with the black hair said: "I believe it to be true, thoughwhither she went I know not. I only know that a shepherd found me in themorning faint with hunger and cold, and carried me down here; and when Icame to Andelsprutz it was, as you have perceived it, dead."