by Edgar Allan Poe
(1850)
Slid, if these be your "passados" and "montantes," I'll have none o' them.NED KNOWLES.
THE BARON RITZNER VON JUNG was a noble
Hungarian family, every member of which (at least as far back
into antiquity as any certain records extend) was more or less
remarkable for talent of some description- the majority for
that species of grotesquerie in conception of which Tieck, a
scion of the house, has given a vivid, although by no means the
most vivid exemplifications. My acquaintance with Ritzner
commenced at the magnificent Chateau Jung, into which a train
of droll adventures, not to be made public, threw a place in
his regard, and here, with somewhat more difficulty, a partial
insight into his mental conformation. In later days this
insight grew more clear, as the intimacy which had at first
permitted it became more close; and when, after three years of
the character of the Baron Ritzner von Jung.
I remember the buzz of curiosity which his advent
excited within the college precincts on the night of the
twenty-fifth of June. I remember still more distinctly, that
while he was pronounced by all parties at first sight "the most
remarkable man in the world," no person made any attempt at
accounting for his opinion. That he was unique appeared so
undeniable, that it was deemed impertinent to inquire wherein
the uniquity consisted. But, letting this matter pass for the
present, I will merely observe that, from the first moment of
his setting foot within the limits of the university, he began
to exercise over the habits, manners, persons, purses, and
propensities of the whole community which surrounded him, an
influence the most extensive and despotic, yet at the same time
the most indefinite and altogether unaccountable. Thus the
brief period of his residence at the university forms an era in
its annals, and is characterized by all classes of people
appertaining to it or its dependencies as "that very
extraordinary epoch forming the domination of the Baron Ritzner
von Jung." then of no particular age, by which I mean that it
was impossible to form a guess respecting his age by any data
personally afforded. He might have been fifteen or fifty, and
was twenty-one years and seven months. He was by no means a
handsome man- perhaps the reverse. The contour of his face was
somewhat angular and harsh. His forehead was lofty and very
fair; his nose a snub; his eyes large, heavy, glassy, and
meaningless. About the mouth there was more to be observed. The
lips were gently protruded, and rested the one upon the other,
after such a fashion that it is impossible to conceive any,
even the most complex, combination of human features, conveying
so entirely, and so singly, the idea of unmitigated gravity,
solemnity and repose.
It will be perceived, no doubt, from what I have
already said, that the Baron was one of those human anomalies
now and then to be found, who make the science of mystification
the study and the business of their lives. For this science a
peculiar turn of mind gave him instinctively the cue, while his
physical appearance afforded him unusual facilities for
carrying his prospects into effect. I quaintly termed the
domination of the Baron Ritzner von Jung, ever rightly entered
into the mystery which overshadowed his character. I truly
think that no person at the university, with the exception of
myself, ever suspected him to be capable of a joke, verbal or
practical:- the old bull-dog at the garden-gate would sooner
have been accused,- the ghost of Heraclitus,- or the wig of the
Emeritus Professor of Theology. This, too, when it was evident
that the most egregious and unpardonable of all conceivable
tricks, whimsicalities and buffooneries were brought about, if
not directly by him, at least plainly through his intermediate
agency or connivance. The beauty, if I may so call it, of his
art mystifique, lay in that consummate ability (resulting from
an almost intuitive knowledge of human nature, and a most
wonderful self-possession,) by means of which he never failed
to make it appear that the drolleries he was occupied in
bringing to a point, arose partly in spite, and partly in
consequence of the laudable efforts he was making for their
prevention, and for the preservation of the good order and
dignity of Alma Mater. The deep, the poignant, the overwhelming
mortification, which upon each such failure of his praise
worthy endeavors, would suffuse every lineament of his
countenance, left not the slightest room for doubt of his
sincerity in the bosoms of even his most skeptical companions.
The adroitness, too, was no less worthy of observation by which
he contrived to shift the sense of the grotesque from the
creator to the created- from his own person to the absurdities
to which he had given rise. In no instance before that of which
I speak, have I known the habitual mystific escape the natural
consequence of his manoevres- an attachment of the ludicrous to
his own character and person. Continually enveloped in an
atmosphere of whim, my friend appeared to live only for the
severities of society; and not even his own household have for
a moment associated other ideas than those of the rigid and
august with the memory of the Baron Ritzner von Jung. the demon
of the dolce far niente lay like an incubus upon the
university. Nothing, at least, was done beyond eating and
drinking and making merry. The apartments of the students were
converted into so many pot-houses, and there was no pot-house
of them all more famous or more frequented than that of the
Baron. Our carousals here were many, and boisterous, and long,
and never unfruitful of events.
Upon one occasion we had protracted our sitting
until nearly daybreak, and an unusual quantity of wine had been
drunk. The company consisted of seven or eight individuals
besides the Baron and myself. Most of these were young men of
wealth, of high connection, of great family pride, and all
alive with an exaggerated sense of honor. They abounded in the
most ultra German opinions respecting the duello. To these
Quixotic notions some recent Parisian publications, backed by
three or four desperate and fatal conversation, during the
greater part of the night, had run wild upon the all-
engrossing topic of the times. The Baron, who had been
unusually silent and abstracted in the earlier portion of the
evening, at length seemed to be aroused from his apathy, took a
leading part in the discourse, and dwelt upon the benefits, and
more especially upon the beauties, of the received code of
etiquette in passages of arms with an ardor, an eloquence, an
impressiveness, and an affectionateness of manner, which
elicited the warmest enthusiasm from his hearers in general,
and absolutely staggered even myself, who well knew him to be
at heart a ridiculer of those very points for which he
contended, and especially to hold the entire fanfaronade of
duelling etiquette in the sovereign contempt which it
deserves.
Looking around me during a pause in the Baron's
discourse (of which my readers may gather some faint idea when
I say that it bore resemblance to the fervid, chanting,
monotonous, yet musical sermonic manner of Coleridge), I
perceived symptoms of even more than the general interest in
the countenance of one of the party. This gentleman, whom I
shall call Hermann, was an original in every respect- except,
perhaps, in the single particular that he was a very great
fool. He contrived to bear, however, among a particular set at
the university, a reputation for deep metaphysical thinking,
and, I believe, for some logical talent. As a duellist he had
acquired who had fallen at his hands; but they were many. He
was a man of courage undoubtedly. But it was upon his minute
acquaintance with the etiquette of the duello, and the nicety
of his sense of honor, that he most especially prided himself.
These things were a hobby which he rode to the death. To
Ritzner, ever upon the lookout for the grotesque, his
peculiarities had for a long time past afforded food for
mystification. Of this, however, I was not aware; although, in
the present instance, I saw clearly that something of a
whimsical nature was upon the tapis with my friend, and that
Hermann was its especial object.
As the former proceeded in his discourse, or
rather monologue I perceived the excitement of the latter
momently increasing. At length he spoke; offering some
objection to a point insisted upon by R., and giving his
reasons in detail. To these the Baron replied at length (still
maintaining his exaggerated tone of sentiment) and concluding,
in what I thought very bad taste, with a sarcasm and a sneer.
The hobby of Hermann now took the bit in his teeth. This I
could discern by the studied hair-splitting farrago of his
rejoinder. His last words I distinctly remember. "Your
opinions, allow me to say, Baron von Jung, although in the main
correct, are, in many nice points, discreditable to yourself
and to the university of which you are a member. In a few
respects they are even unworthy of serious refutation. I would
say more than this, sir, were it not for the fear of giving you
offence (here the speaker smiled blandly), I would say, sir,
that your opinions are not the opinions to be expected from a
gentleman."
As Hermann completed this equivocal sentence, all
eyes were turned upon the Baron. He became pale, then
excessively red; then, dropping his pocket-handkerchief,
stooped to recover it, when I caught a glimpse of his
countenance, while it could be seen by no one else at the
table. It was radiant with the quizzical expression which was
its natural character, but which I had never seen it assume
except when we were alone together, and when he unbent himself
freely. In an instant afterward he stood erect, confronting
Hermann; and so total an alteration of countenance in so short
a period I certainly never saw before. For a moment I even
fancied that I had misconceived him, and that he was in sober
earnest. He appeared to be stifling with passion, and his face
was cadaverously white. For a short time he remained silent,
apparently striving to master his emotion. Having at length
seemingly succeeded, he reached a decanter which stood near
him, saying as he held it firmly clenched "The language you
have thought proper to employ, Mynheer Hermann, in addressing
yourself to me, is objectionable in so many particulars, that I
have neither temper nor time for specification. That my
opinions, however, are not the opinions to be expected from a
gentleman, is an observation so directly offensive as to allow
me but one line of conduct. Some courtesy, nevertheless, is due
to the presence of this company, and to yourself, at this
moment, as my guest. You will pardon me, therefore, if, upon
this consideration, I deviate slightly from the general usage
among gentlemen in similar cases of personal affront. You will
forgive me for the moderate tax I shall make upon your
imagination, and endeavor to consider, for an instant, the
reflection of your person in yonder mirror as the living
Mynheer Hermann himself. This being done, there will be no
difficulty whatever. I shall discharge this decanter of wine at
your image in yonder mirror, and thus fulfil all the spirit, if
not the exact letter, of resentment for your insult, while the
necessity of physical violence to your real person will be
obviated."
With these words he hurled the decanter, full of
wine, against the mirror which hung directly opposite Hermann;
striking the reflection of his person with great precision, and
of course shattering the glass into fragments. The whole
company at once started to their feet, and, with the exception
of myself and Ritzner, took their departure. As Hermann went
out, the Baron whispered me that I should follow him and make
an offer of my services. To this I agreed; not knowing
precisely what to make of so ridiculous a piece of
business.
The duellist accepted my aid with his stiff and
ultra recherche air, and, taking my arm, led me to his
apartment. I could hardly forbear laughing in his face while he
proceeded to discuss, with the profoundest gravity, what he
termed "the refinedly peculiar character" of the insult he had
received. After a tiresome harangue in his ordinary style, he
took down from his book shelves a number of musty volumes on
the subject of the duello, and entertained me for a long time
with their contents; reading aloud, and commenting earnestly as
he read. I can just remember the titles of some of the works.
There were the "Ordonnance of Philip le Bel on Single Combat";
the "Theatre of Honor," by Favyn, and a treatise "On the
Permission of Duels," by Andiguier. He displayed, also, with
much pomposity, Brantome's "Memoirs of Duels,"- published at
Cologne, 1666, in the types of Elzevir- a precious and unique
vellum-paper volume, with a fine margin, and bound by Derome.
But he requested my attention particularly, and with an air of
mysterious sagacity, to a thick octavo, written in barbarous
Latin by one Hedelin, a Frenchman, and having the quaint title,
"Duelli Lex Scripta, et non; aliterque." From this he read me
one of the drollest chapters in the world concerning "Injuriae
per applicationem, per constructionem, et per se," about half
of which, he averred, was strictly applicable to his own
"refinedly peculiar" case, although not one syllable of the
whole matter could I understand for the life of me. Having
finished the chapter, he closed the book, and demanded what I
thought necessary to be done. I replied that I had entire
confidence in his superior delicacy of feeling, and would abide
by what he proposed. With this answer he seemed flattered, and
sat down to write a note to the Baron. It ran thus:
Sir,- My friend, M. P.-, will hand you this note. I find it incumbent upon me to request, at your earliest convenience, an explanation of this evening's occurrences at your chambers. In the event of your declining this request, Mr. P. will be happy to arrange, with any friend whom you may appoint, the steps preliminary to a meeting.
With sentiments of perfect respect,
Your most humble servant,
JOHANN HERMAN.
To the Baron Ritzner von Jung,
Not knowing what better to do, I called upon Ritzner with this epistle. He bowed as I presented it; then, with a grave countenance, motioned me to a seat. Having perused the cartel, he wrote the following reply, which I carried to Hermann.
SIR,- Through our common friend, Mr. P., I have received your note of this evening. Upon due reflection I frankly admit the propriety of the explanation you suggest. This being admitted, I still find great difficulty, (owing to the refinedly peculiar nature of our disagreement, and of the personal affront offered on my part,) in so wording what I have to say by way of apology, as to meet all the minute exigencies, and all the variable shadows, of the case. I have great reliance, however, on that extreme delicacy of discrimination, in matters appertaining to the rules of etiquette, for which you have been so long and so pre-eminently distinguished. With perfect certainty, therefore, of being comprehended, I beg leave, in lieu of offering any sentiments of my own, to refer you to the opinions of Sieur Hedelin, as set forth in the ninth paragraph of the chapter of "Injuriae per applicationem, per constructionem, et per se," in his "Duelli Lex scripta, et non; aliterque." The nicety of your discernment in all the matters here treated, will be sufficient, I am assured, to convince you that the mere circumstance of me referring you to this admirable passage, ought to satisfy your request, as a man of honor, for explanation.
With sentiments of profound respect,Your most obedient servant,
VON JUNG.
main pageThe Herr Johann Hermann
Hermann commenced the perusal of this epistle with a scowl, which, however, was converted into a smile of the most ludicrous self-complacency as he came to the rigmarole about Injuriae per applicationem, per constructionem, et per se. Having finished reading, he begged me, with the blandest of all possible smiles, to be seated, while he made reference to the treatise in question. Turning to the passage specified, he read it with great care to himself, then closed the book, and desired me, in my character of confidential acquaintance, to express to the Baron von Jung his exalted sense of his chivalrous behavior, and, in that of second, to assure him that the explanation offered was of the fullest, the most honorable, and the most unequivocally satisfactory nature.
Somewhat amazed at all this, I made my retreat to the Baron. He seemed to receive Hermann's amicable letter as a matter of course, and after a few words of general conversation, went to an inner room and brought out the everlasting treatise "Duelli Lex scripta, et non; aliterque." He handed me the volume and asked me to look over some portion of it. I did so, but to little purpose, not being able to gather the least particle of meaning. He then took the book himself, and read me a chapter aloud. To my surprise, what he read proved to be a most horribly absurd account of a duel between two baboons. He now explained the mystery; showing that the volume, as it appeared prima facie, was written upon the plan of the nonsense verses of Du Bartas; that is to say, the language was ingeniously framed so as to present to the ear all the outward signs of intelligibility, and even of profundity, while in fact not a shadow of meaning existed. The key to the whole was found in leaving out every second and third word alternately, when there appeared a series of ludicrous quizzes upon a single combat as practised in modern times.
The Baron afterwards informed me that he had purposely thrown the treatise in Hermann's way two or three weeks before the adventure, and that he was satisfied, from the general tenor of his conversation, that he had studied it with the deepest attention, and firmly believed it to be a work of unusual merit. Upon this hint he proceeded. Hermann would have died a thousand deaths rather than acknowledge his inability to understand anything and everything in the universe that had ever been written about the duello.LITTLETON BARRY.