The castle of Hernswolf, at the close of the year 1655, was the resort
of fashion and gaiety. The baron of that name was the most powerful
nobleman in Germany, and equally celebrated for the patriotic
achievements of his sons, and the beauty of his only daughter. The
estate of Hernswolf, which was situated in the centre of the Black
Forest, had been given to one of his ancestors by the gratitude of the
nation, and descended with other hereditary possessions to the family of
the present owner. It was a castellated, gothic mansion, built according
to the fashion of the times, in the grandest style of architecture, and
consisted principally of dark winding corridors, and vaulted tapestry
rooms, magnificent indeed in their size, but ill-suited to private
comfort, from the very circumstance of their dreary magnitude. A dark
grove of pine and mountain ash encompassed the castle on every side, and
threw an aspect of gloom around the scene, which was seldom enlivened by
the cheering sunshine of heaven.
The castle bells rung out a merry peal at the approach of a winter
twilight, and the warder was stationed with his retinue on the
battlements, to announce the arrival of the company who were invited to
share the amusements that reigned within the walls. The Lady Clotilda, the baron's only daughter, had but just attained her seventeenth year, and a brilliant assembly was invited to celebrate the birthday. The large vaulted apartments were thrown open for the reception of the numerous guests, and the gaieties of the evening had scarcely commenced when the clock from the dungeon tower was heard to strike with unusual solemnity, and on the instant a tall stranger, arrayed in a deep suit of black, made his appearance in the ballroom. He bowed courteously on every side, but was received by all with the strictest reserve. No one knew who he was or whence he came, but it was evident from his appearance, that he was a nobleman of the first rank, and though his introduction was accepted with distrust, he was treated by all with respect. He addressed himself particularly to the daughter of the baron, and was so intelligent in his remarks, so lively in his sallies, and so fascinating in his address, that he quickly interested the feelings of his young and sensitive auditor. In fine, after some hesitation on the part of the host, who, with the rest of the company, was unable to approach the stranger with indifference, he was requested to remain a few days at the castle, an invitation which was cheerfully accepted.
The dead of the night drew on, and when all had retired to rest, the
dull heavy bell was heard swinging to and fro in the grey tower, though
there was scarcely a breath to move the forest trees. Many of the
guests, when they met the next morning at the breakfast table, averred
that there had been sounds as of the most heavenly music, while all
persisted in affirming that they had heard awful noises, proceeding, as
it seemed, from the apartment which the stranger at that time occupied. He soon, however, made his appearance at the breakfast circle, and when the circumstances of the preceding night were alluded to, a dark smile of unutterable meaning played round his saturnine features, and then relapsed into an expression of the deepest melancholy. He addressed his conversation principally to Clotilda, and when he talked of the different climes he had visited, of the sunny regions of Italy, where the very air breathes the fragrance of flowers, and the summer breeze sighs over a land of sweets; when he spoke to her of those delicious countries, where the smile of the day sinks into the softer beauty of the night, and the loveliness of heaven is never for an instant obscured, he drew tears of regret from the bosom of his fair auditor, and for the first time she regretted that she was yet at home