I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place.
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place.
Dracula by Bram Stoker
?
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Title: Dracula
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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRACULA ***
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Transcriber's Note
##################
This e-text is based on a reproduction of the original 1897 edition.
All modern material has been removed.
Italic text in the original version has been placed between underscores
(_text_); passages in small caps have been symbolised by forward
slashes (/small caps/). Subscript numerals have been placed between
curly braces ({2}).
Inconsistencies in hyphenation and spelling (to-morrow/tomorrow;
aerial/aerial, etc. ), as well as incorrectly used phrases in Van
Helsing's speech have been retained. A number of obvious errors in
punctuation and inconsistencies in single/double quotation have been
tacitly removed.
The following typographical errors, have been corrected:
# p. vi/vii: header word "Page" has been moved from page vii to
page vi.
# p. vii: "Chapter VXVII" ? "Chapter XVIII"; "Chapter XXI" ?
"Chapter XXVII"; "320" ? "324"
# p. 16: "a long" ? "along"
# p. 30: "Woe" ? "Woe"
# p. 44: "wondow" ? "window"
# p. 43: "that" ? "than"
# p. 58: "number One" ? "number one"
# p. 63: "Hopwood" ? "Holmwood"
# p. 82: "role of paper" ? "roll of paper"
# p. 98: "dreadul" ? "dreadful"
# p. 99: "pounts" ? "pounds"
# p. 112: "Holmmood" ? "Holmwood"
# p. 133: "pharmacopoeoeia" ? "pharmacopoeia"
# p. 147: "do do" ? "to do"
# p. 157: "confortable" ? "comfortable"; "everthing" ? "everything"
# p. 186: "greatful" ? "grateful"
# p. 212: "Arther" ? "Arthur"
# p. 241: "next the Professor" ? "next to the Professor"
# p. 257: "gloated with fresh blood" ? "bloated with fresh blood"
# p. 286: "Rat, rats, rats! " ? "Rats, rats, rats! "
# p. 339: "preceeded" ? "preceded"
# p. 358: "the bit box" ? "the big box"
# p. 380: "they mean fight" ? "they mean to fight"
# p. 384: "respulsive" ? "repulsive"
BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
"Under the Sunset. "
"The Snake's Pass. "
"The Watter's Mou'. "
"The Shoulder of Shasta. "
DRACULA
BY
BRAM STOKER
Constable ? London
First published by Archibald Constable and Company, 1897
TO
MY DEAR FRIEND
HOMMY-BEG
CONTENTS.
Page
/Chapter I. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 1
/Chapter II. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 15
/Chapter III. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 28
/Chapter IV. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 41
/Chapter V. /
Letters--Lucy and Mina 55
/Chapter VI. /
Mina Murray's Journal 64
/Chapter VII. /
Cutting from "The Dailygraph," 8 August 77
/Chapter VIII. /
Mina Murray's Journal 91
/Chapter IX. /
Mina Murray's Journal 106
/Chapter X. /
Mina Murray's Journal 120
/Chapter XI. /
Lucy Westenra's Diary 135
/Chapter XII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 148
/Chapter XIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 166
/Chapter XIV. /
Mina Harker's Journal 182
/Chapter XV. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 198
/Chapter XVI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 212
/Chapter XVII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 223
/Chapter XVIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 237
/Chapter XIX. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 254
/Chapter XX. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 267
/Chapter XXI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 282
/Chapter XXII. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 297
/Chapter XXIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 310
/Chapter XXIV. /
Dr. Seward's Phonograph Diary, spoken by Van Helsing 324
/Chapter XXV. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 339
/Chapter XXVI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 354
/Chapter XXVII. /
Mina Harker's Journal 372
How these papers have been placed in sequence will be made manifest
in the reading of them. All needless matters have been eliminated, so
that a history almost at variance with the possibilities of later-day
belief may stand forth as simple fact. There is throughout no statement
of past things wherein memory may err, for all the records chosen are
exactly contemporary, given from the standpoints and within the range
of knowledge of those who made them.
DRACULA.
CHAPTER I.
/Jonathan Harker's Journal. /
(_Kept in shorthand. _)
_3 May. Bistritz. _--Left Munich at 8. 35 p. m. on 1st May, arriving at
Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6. 46, but train was
an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse
which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through
the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had
arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The
impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the
East; the most Western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is
here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish
rule.
We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh.
Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner,
or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which
was very good but thirsty. (_Mem. _, get recipe for Mina. ) I asked the
waiter, and he said it was called "paprika hendl," and that, as it
was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the
Carpathians. I found my smattering of German very useful here; indeed,
I don't know how I should be able to get on without it.
Having some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the
British Museum, and made search among the books and maps of the library
regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of
the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with
a noble of that country. I find that the district he named is in the
extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states,
Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian
mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall
enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk
over my travels with Mina.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct
nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them the Wallachs,
who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the west; and
Szekelys in the east and north. I am going among the latter, who claim
to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the
Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the
Huns settled in it. I read that every known superstition in the world
is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the
centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very
interesting. (_Mem. _, I must ask the Count all about them. )
I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had
all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my
window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have
been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe,
and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the
continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping
soundly then. I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge
of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed
with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata. "
(_Mem. _, get recipe for this also. ) I had to hurry breakfast, for
the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have
done so, for after rushing to the station at 7. 30 I had to sit in the
carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me
that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What
ought they to be in China?
All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those
I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round
hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The
women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very
clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or
other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course
petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks,
who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great
baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy
leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails.
They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had
long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque,
but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at
once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am
told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is
a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for
the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a
series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five
separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it
underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties
of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I
wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently
expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly
woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with long double
apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for
modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: "The Herr Englishman? "
"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker. " She smiled, and gave some message
to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the
door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter:--
"/My Friend/,--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start
for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your
journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.
"Your friend,
"/Dracula. /"
_4 May. _--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort
of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and
that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused
to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no
time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any
means comforting.
Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in
a very hysterical way:
"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? " She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew,
and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at
all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I
told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important
business, she asked again:
"Do you know what day it is? " I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:
"Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is?
I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall
enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk
over my travels with Mina.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct
nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them the Wallachs,
who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the west; and
Szekelys in the east and north. I am going among the latter, who claim
to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the
Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the
Huns settled in it. I read that every known superstition in the world
is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the
centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very
interesting. (_Mem. _, I must ask the Count all about them. )
I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had
all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my
window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have
been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe,
and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the
continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping
soundly then. I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge
of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed
with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata. "
(_Mem. _, get recipe for this also. ) I had to hurry breakfast, for
the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have
done so, for after rushing to the station at 7. 30 I had to sit in the
carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me
that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What
ought they to be in China?
All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those
I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round
hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The
women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very
clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or
other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course
petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks,
who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great
baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy
leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails.
They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had
long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque,
but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at
once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am
told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is
a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for
the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a
series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five
separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it
underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties
of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I
wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently
expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly
woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with long double
apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for
modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: "The Herr Englishman? "
"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker. " She smiled, and gave some message
to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the
door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter:--
"/My Friend/,--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start
for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your
journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.
"Your friend,
"/Dracula. /"
_4 May. _--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort
of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and
that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused
to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no
time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any
means comforting.
Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in
a very hysterical way:
"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? " She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew,
and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at
all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I
told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important
business, she asked again:
"Do you know what day it is? " I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:
"Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is? " On
my saying that I did not understand, she went on:
"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when
the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have
full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going
to? " She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but
without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not
to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very
ridiculous, but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business
to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore
tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked
her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and
dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me.
I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been
taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet
it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in
such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she
put the rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and
went out of the room. I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I
am waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix
is still round my neck. Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many
ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not
know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this
book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here
comes the coach!
_5 May. The Castle. _--The grey of the morning has passed, and the sun
is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with
trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and
little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till
I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There are many odd things
to put down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well
before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on
what they call "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned
with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the
simple style of the London cat's-meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch,
which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not
disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.
When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I
saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of
me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people
who were sitting on the bench outside the door--which they call by a
name meaning "word-bearer"--came and listened, and then they looked
at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often
repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the
crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked
them out. I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them
were "Ordog"--Satan, "pokol"--hell, "stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and
"vlkoslak"--both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and
the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire.
(_Mem. _, I must ask the Count about these superstitions. )
When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this
time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross
and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty I got a
fellow-passenger to tell me what they meant; he would not answer at
first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a
charm or guard against the evil eye. This was not very pleasant for
me, just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man; but
every one seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic
that I could not but be touched. I shall never forget the last glimpse
which I had of the inn-yard and its crowd of picturesque figures,
all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with
its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green
tubs clustered in the centre of the yard. Then our driver, whose wide
linen drawers covered the whole front of the box-seat--"gotza" they
call them--cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran
abreast, and we set off on our journey.
I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of
the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or
rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might
not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green
sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep
hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable
end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit
blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the
green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out
amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran
the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut
out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down
the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we
seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand
then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing
no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in
summer-time excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after
the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run
of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are
not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair
them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring
in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at
loading point.
Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes
of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right
and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling upon them
and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep
blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where
grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and
pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where
the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in
the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and
again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched
my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty,
snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our
serpentine way, to be right before us:--
"Look! Isten szek! "--"God's seat! "--and he crossed himself reverently.
As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower
behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This
was emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the
sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and
there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I
noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many
crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here
and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did
not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender
of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There
were many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees and
here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white
stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now
and again we passed a leiterwagon--the ordinary peasant's cart, with
its long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of
the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming
peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their
coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long
staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold,
and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the
gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which
ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the
Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background
of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine
woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great
masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced
a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts
and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling
sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst
the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes
the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses
could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do
at home, but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said; "you
must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce! " and then he added, with
what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to
catch the approving smile of the rest--"and you may have enough of such
matters before you go to sleep. " The only stop he would make was a
moment's pause to light his lamps.
When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the
passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as
though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully
with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on
to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of
patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the
hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach
rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared
to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each
side and to frown down upon us; we were entering the Borgo Pass. One by
one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed upon
me with earnestness which would take no denial; these were certainly of
an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with a
kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of fear-meaning
movements which I had seen outside the hotel at Bistritz--the sign of
the cross and the guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along,
the driver leaned forward, and on each side the passengers, craning
over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was
evident that something very exciting was either happening or expected,
but though I asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest
explanation. This state of excitement kept on for some little time;
and at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern
side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the
heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain
range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into
the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance
which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the
glare of lamps through the blackness; but all was dark. The only light
was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which steam from our
hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could now see the sandy
road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle.
The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock
my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when
the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which
I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone; I
thought it was, "An hour less than the time. " Then, turning to me, he
said in German worse than my own:--
"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected, after all. He
will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day;
better the next day. " Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh
and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.
Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal
crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind
us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the
flash of our lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were
coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a
long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face
from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes,
which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the
driver:--
"You are early to-night, my friend. " The man stammered in reply:--
"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:--
"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You
cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are
swift. " As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking
mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory.
One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's
"Lenore:"--
"Denn die Todten reiten schnell. "--
("For the dead travel fast. ")
The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a
gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time
putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's
luggage," said the driver; and with exceeding alacrity my bags were
handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of
the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me
with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must
have been prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses
turned, and we swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I
saw the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,
and projected against it the figures of my late companions crossing
themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses,
and off they swept on their way to Bukovina.
As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely
feeling came over me; but a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a
rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent German:--
"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take
all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz [the plum brandy of the
country] underneath the seat, if you should require it. " I did not take
any, but it was a comfort to know it was there, all the same. I felt a
little strange, and not a little frightened. I think had there been any
alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown
night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we
made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed
to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again;
and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so.
I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but
I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any
protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention
to delay. By and by, however, as I was curious to know how time was
passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch; it was
within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I
suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my
recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road--a
long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by
another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind
which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which
seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination
could grasp it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl
the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them
soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though
after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance,
from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and sharper
howling--that of wolves--which affected both the horses and myself in
the same way--for I was minded to jump from the caleche and run, whilst
they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use
all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few minutes,
however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the horses so far
became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to stand before
them. He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their
ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary
effect, for under his caresses they became quite manageable again,
though they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking
his reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the
far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which
ran sharply to the right.
Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over
the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great
frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in
shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled
through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as
we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine powdery snow
began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a
white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs,
though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the
wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on
us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my
fear; but the driver was not in the least disturbed. He kept turning
his head to left and right, but I could not see anything through the
darkness.
Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The
driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses and,
jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know
what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but
while I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word
took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen
asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated
endlessly, and now, looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.
Once the flame appeared so near the road that even in the darkness
around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where
the blue flame rose--it must have been very faint, for it did not seem
to illumine the place around it at all--and gathering a few stones,
formed them into some device.
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Title: Dracula
Author: Bram Stoker
Release Date: May 30, 2014 [EBook #45839]
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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRACULA ***
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Transcriber's Note
##################
This e-text is based on a reproduction of the original 1897 edition.
All modern material has been removed.
Italic text in the original version has been placed between underscores
(_text_); passages in small caps have been symbolised by forward
slashes (/small caps/). Subscript numerals have been placed between
curly braces ({2}).
Inconsistencies in hyphenation and spelling (to-morrow/tomorrow;
aerial/aerial, etc. ), as well as incorrectly used phrases in Van
Helsing's speech have been retained. A number of obvious errors in
punctuation and inconsistencies in single/double quotation have been
tacitly removed.
The following typographical errors, have been corrected:
# p. vi/vii: header word "Page" has been moved from page vii to
page vi.
# p. vii: "Chapter VXVII" ? "Chapter XVIII"; "Chapter XXI" ?
"Chapter XXVII"; "320" ? "324"
# p. 16: "a long" ? "along"
# p. 30: "Woe" ? "Woe"
# p. 44: "wondow" ? "window"
# p. 43: "that" ? "than"
# p. 58: "number One" ? "number one"
# p. 63: "Hopwood" ? "Holmwood"
# p. 82: "role of paper" ? "roll of paper"
# p. 98: "dreadul" ? "dreadful"
# p. 99: "pounts" ? "pounds"
# p. 112: "Holmmood" ? "Holmwood"
# p. 133: "pharmacopoeoeia" ? "pharmacopoeia"
# p. 147: "do do" ? "to do"
# p. 157: "confortable" ? "comfortable"; "everthing" ? "everything"
# p. 186: "greatful" ? "grateful"
# p. 212: "Arther" ? "Arthur"
# p. 241: "next the Professor" ? "next to the Professor"
# p. 257: "gloated with fresh blood" ? "bloated with fresh blood"
# p. 286: "Rat, rats, rats! " ? "Rats, rats, rats! "
# p. 339: "preceeded" ? "preceded"
# p. 358: "the bit box" ? "the big box"
# p. 380: "they mean fight" ? "they mean to fight"
# p. 384: "respulsive" ? "repulsive"
BOOKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
"Under the Sunset. "
"The Snake's Pass. "
"The Watter's Mou'. "
"The Shoulder of Shasta. "
DRACULA
BY
BRAM STOKER
Constable ? London
First published by Archibald Constable and Company, 1897
TO
MY DEAR FRIEND
HOMMY-BEG
CONTENTS.
Page
/Chapter I. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 1
/Chapter II. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 15
/Chapter III. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 28
/Chapter IV. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 41
/Chapter V. /
Letters--Lucy and Mina 55
/Chapter VI. /
Mina Murray's Journal 64
/Chapter VII. /
Cutting from "The Dailygraph," 8 August 77
/Chapter VIII. /
Mina Murray's Journal 91
/Chapter IX. /
Mina Murray's Journal 106
/Chapter X. /
Mina Murray's Journal 120
/Chapter XI. /
Lucy Westenra's Diary 135
/Chapter XII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 148
/Chapter XIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 166
/Chapter XIV. /
Mina Harker's Journal 182
/Chapter XV. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 198
/Chapter XVI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 212
/Chapter XVII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 223
/Chapter XVIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 237
/Chapter XIX. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 254
/Chapter XX. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 267
/Chapter XXI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 282
/Chapter XXII. /
Jonathan Harker's Journal 297
/Chapter XXIII. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 310
/Chapter XXIV. /
Dr. Seward's Phonograph Diary, spoken by Van Helsing 324
/Chapter XXV. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 339
/Chapter XXVI. /
Dr. Seward's Diary 354
/Chapter XXVII. /
Mina Harker's Journal 372
How these papers have been placed in sequence will be made manifest
in the reading of them. All needless matters have been eliminated, so
that a history almost at variance with the possibilities of later-day
belief may stand forth as simple fact. There is throughout no statement
of past things wherein memory may err, for all the records chosen are
exactly contemporary, given from the standpoints and within the range
of knowledge of those who made them.
DRACULA.
CHAPTER I.
/Jonathan Harker's Journal. /
(_Kept in shorthand. _)
_3 May. Bistritz. _--Left Munich at 8. 35 p. m. on 1st May, arriving at
Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6. 46, but train was
an hour late. Buda-Pesth seems a wonderful place, from the glimpse
which I got of it from the train and the little I could walk through
the streets. I feared to go very far from the station, as we had
arrived late and would start as near the correct time as possible. The
impression I had was that we were leaving the West and entering the
East; the most Western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which is
here of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish
rule.
We left in pretty good time, and came after nightfall to Klausenburgh.
Here I stopped for the night at the Hotel Royale. I had for dinner,
or rather supper, a chicken done up some way with red pepper, which
was very good but thirsty. (_Mem. _, get recipe for Mina. ) I asked the
waiter, and he said it was called "paprika hendl," and that, as it
was a national dish, I should be able to get it anywhere along the
Carpathians. I found my smattering of German very useful here; indeed,
I don't know how I should be able to get on without it.
Having some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the
British Museum, and made search among the books and maps of the library
regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of
the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with
a noble of that country. I find that the district he named is in the
extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states,
Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian
mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe. I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall
enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk
over my travels with Mina.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct
nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them the Wallachs,
who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the west; and
Szekelys in the east and north. I am going among the latter, who claim
to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the
Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the
Huns settled in it. I read that every known superstition in the world
is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the
centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very
interesting. (_Mem. _, I must ask the Count all about them. )
I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had
all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my
window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have
been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe,
and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the
continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping
soundly then. I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge
of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed
with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata. "
(_Mem. _, get recipe for this also. ) I had to hurry breakfast, for
the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have
done so, for after rushing to the station at 7. 30 I had to sit in the
carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me
that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What
ought they to be in China?
All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those
I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round
hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The
women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very
clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or
other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course
petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks,
who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great
baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy
leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails.
They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had
long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque,
but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at
once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am
told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is
a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for
the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a
series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five
separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it
underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties
of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I
wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently
expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly
woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with long double
apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for
modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: "The Herr Englishman? "
"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker. " She smiled, and gave some message
to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the
door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter:--
"/My Friend/,--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start
for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your
journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.
"Your friend,
"/Dracula. /"
_4 May. _--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort
of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and
that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused
to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no
time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any
means comforting.
Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in
a very hysterical way:
"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? " She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew,
and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at
all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I
told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important
business, she asked again:
"Do you know what day it is? " I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:
"Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is?
I was
not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the
Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare
with our own Ordnance Survey maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post
town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall
enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk
over my travels with Mina.
In the population of Transylvania there are four distinct
nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them the Wallachs,
who are the descendants of the Dacians; Magyars in the west; and
Szekelys in the east and north. I am going among the latter, who claim
to be descended from Attila and the Huns. This may be so, for when the
Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the
Huns settled in it. I read that every known superstition in the world
is gathered into the horseshoe of the Carpathians, as if it were the
centre of some sort of imaginative whirlpool; if so my stay may be very
interesting. (_Mem. _, I must ask the Count all about them. )
I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had
all sorts of queer dreams. There was a dog howling all night under my
window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have
been the paprika, for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe,
and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the
continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping
soundly then. I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge
of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed
with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata. "
(_Mem. _, get recipe for this also. ) I had to hurry breakfast, for
the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have
done so, for after rushing to the station at 7. 30 I had to sit in the
carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me
that the further East you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What
ought they to be in China?
All day long we seemed to dawdle through a country which was full of
beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the
top of steep hills such as we see in old missals; sometimes we ran by
rivers and streams which seemed from the wide stony margin on each side
of them to be subject to great floods. It takes a lot of water, and
running strong, to sweep the outside edge of a river clear. At every
station there were groups of people, sometimes crowds, and in all sorts
of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home or those
I saw coming through France and Germany, with short jackets and round
hats and home-made trousers; but others were very picturesque. The
women looked pretty, except when you got near them, but they were very
clumsy about the waist. They had all full white sleeves of some kind or
other, and most of them had big belts with a lot of strips of something
fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet, but of course
petticoats under them. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks,
who are more barbarian than the rest, with their big cowboy hats, great
baggy dirty-white trousers, white linen shirts, and enormous heavy
leather belts, nearly a foot wide, all studded over with brass nails.
They wore high boots, with their trousers tucked into them, and had
long black hair and heavy black moustaches. They are very picturesque,
but do not look prepossessing. On the stage they would be set down at
once as some old Oriental band of brigands. They are, however, I am
told, very harmless and rather wanting in natural self-assertion.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Bistritz, which is
a very interesting old place. Being practically on the frontier--for
the Borgo Pass leads from it into Bukovina--it has had a very stormy
existence, and it certainly shows marks of it. Fifty years ago a
series of great fires took place, which made terrible havoc on five
separate occasions. At the very beginning of the seventeenth century it
underwent a siege of three weeks and lost 13,000 people, the casualties
of war proper being assisted by famine and disease.
Count Dracula had directed me to go to the Golden Krone Hotel, which I
found, to my delight, to be thoroughly old-fashioned, for of course I
wanted to see all I could of the ways of the country. I was evidently
expected, for when I got near the door I faced a cheery-looking elderly
woman in the usual peasant dress--white undergarment with long double
apron, front and back, of coloured stuff fitting almost too tight for
modesty. When I came close she bowed, and said: "The Herr Englishman? "
"Yes," I said, "Jonathan Harker. " She smiled, and gave some message
to an elderly man in white shirt-sleeves, who had followed her to the
door. He went, but immediately returned with a letter:--
"/My Friend/,--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting
you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start
for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my
carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your
journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.
"Your friend,
"/Dracula. /"
_4 May. _--I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Count,
directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me; but on
making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent, and
pretended that he could not understand my German. This could not be
true, because up to then he had understood it perfectly; at least, he
answered my questions exactly as if he did. He and his wife, the old
lady who had received me, looked at each other in a frightened sort
of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter, and
that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Count Dracula, and
could tell me anything of his castle, both he and his wife crossed
themselves, and, saying that they knew nothing at all, simply refused
to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no
time to ask any one else, for it was all very mysterious and not by any
means comforting.
Just before I was leaving, the old lady came up to my room and said in
a very hysterical way:
"Must you go? Oh! young Herr, must you go? " She was in such an excited
state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew,
and mixed it all up with some other language which I did not know at
all. I was just able to follow her by asking many questions. When I
told her that I must go at once, and that I was engaged on important
business, she asked again:
"Do you know what day it is? " I answered that it was the fourth of May.
She shook her head as she said again:
"Oh, yes! I know that, I know that! but do you know what day it is? " On
my saying that I did not understand, she went on:
"It is the eve of St. George's Day. Do you not know that to-night, when
the clock strikes midnight, all the evil things in the world will have
full sway? Do you know where you are going, and what you are going
to? " She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, but
without effect. Finally she went down on her knees and implored me not
to go; at least to wait a day or two before starting. It was all very
ridiculous, but I did not feel comfortable. However, there was business
to be done, and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I therefore
tried to raise her up, and said, as gravely as I could, that I thanked
her, but my duty was imperative, and that I must go. She then rose and
dried her eyes, and taking a crucifix from her neck offered it to me.
I did not know what to do, for, as an English Churchman, I have been
taught to regard such things as in some measure idolatrous, and yet
it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in
such a state of mind. She saw, I suppose, the doubt in my face, for she
put the rosary round my neck, and said, "For your mother's sake," and
went out of the room. I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I
am waiting for the coach, which is, of course, late; and the crucifix
is still round my neck. Whether it is the old lady's fear, or the many
ghostly traditions of this place, or the crucifix itself, I do not
know, but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual. If this
book should ever reach Mina before I do, let it bring my good-bye. Here
comes the coach!
_5 May. The Castle. _--The grey of the morning has passed, and the sun
is high over the distant horizon, which seems jagged, whether with
trees or hills I know not, for it is so far off that big things and
little are mixed. I am not sleepy, and, as I am not to be called till
I awake, naturally I write till sleep comes. There are many odd things
to put down, and, lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well
before I left Bistritz, let me put down my dinner exactly. I dined on
what they call "robber steak"--bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned
with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire, in the
simple style of the London cat's-meat! The wine was Golden Mediasch,
which produces a queer sting on the tongue, which is, however, not
disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this, and nothing else.
When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat, and I
saw him talking with the landlady. They were evidently talking of
me, for every now and then they looked at me, and some of the people
who were sitting on the bench outside the door--which they call by a
name meaning "word-bearer"--came and listened, and then they looked
at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often
repeated, queer words, for there were many nationalities in the
crowd; so I quietly got my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked
them out. I must say they were not cheering to me, for amongst them
were "Ordog"--Satan, "pokol"--hell, "stregoica"--witch, "vrolok" and
"vlkoslak"--both of which mean the same thing, one being Slovak and
the other Servian for something that is either were-wolf or vampire.
(_Mem. _, I must ask the Count about these superstitions. )
When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this
time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross
and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty I got a
fellow-passenger to tell me what they meant; he would not answer at
first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a
charm or guard against the evil eye. This was not very pleasant for
me, just starting for an unknown place to meet an unknown man; but
every one seemed so kind-hearted, and so sorrowful, and so sympathetic
that I could not but be touched. I shall never forget the last glimpse
which I had of the inn-yard and its crowd of picturesque figures,
all crossing themselves, as they stood round the wide archway, with
its background of rich foliage of oleander and orange trees in green
tubs clustered in the centre of the yard. Then our driver, whose wide
linen drawers covered the whole front of the box-seat--"gotza" they
call them--cracked his big whip over his four small horses, which ran
abreast, and we set off on our journey.
I soon lost sight and recollection of ghostly fears in the beauty of
the scene as we drove along, although had I known the language, or
rather languages, which my fellow-passengers were speaking, I might
not have been able to throw them off so easily. Before us lay a green
sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep
hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable
end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit
blossom--apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the
green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out
amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran
the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut
out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down
the hillsides like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we
seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand
then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing
no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in
summer-time excellent, but that it had not yet been put in order after
the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run
of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are
not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadars would not repair
them, lest the Turk should think that they were preparing to bring
in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at
loading point.
Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes
of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right
and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling upon them
and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep
blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where
grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and
pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where
the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in
the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and
again the white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched
my arm as we swept round the base of a hill and opened up the lofty,
snow-covered peak of a mountain, which seemed, as we wound on our
serpentine way, to be right before us:--
"Look! Isten szek! "--"God's seat! "--and he crossed himself reverently.
As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower
behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This
was emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the
sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink. Here and
there we passed Cszeks and Slovaks, all in picturesque attire, but I
noticed that goitre was painfully prevalent. By the roadside were many
crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves. Here
and there was a peasant man or woman kneeling before a shrine, who did
not even turn round as we approached, but seemed in the self-surrender
of devotion to have neither eyes nor ears for the outer world. There
were many things new to me: for instance, hay-ricks in the trees and
here and there very beautiful masses of weeping birch, their white
stems shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves. Now
and again we passed a leiterwagon--the ordinary peasant's cart, with
its long, snake-like vertebra, calculated to suit the inequalities of
the road. On this were sure to be seated quite a group of home-coming
peasants, the Cszeks with their white, and the Slovaks with their
coloured, sheepskins, the latter carrying lance-fashion their long
staves, with axe at end. As the evening fell it began to get very cold,
and the growing twilight seemed to merge into one dark mistiness the
gloom of the trees, oak, beech, and pine, though in the valleys which
ran deep between the spurs of the hills, as we ascended through the
Pass, the dark firs stood out here and there against the background
of late-lying snow. Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine
woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great
masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced
a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts
and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling
sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst
the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys. Sometimes
the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses
could only go slowly. I wished to get down and walk up them, as we do
at home, but the driver would not hear of it. "No, no," he said; "you
must not walk here; the dogs are too fierce! " and then he added, with
what he evidently meant for grim pleasantry--for he looked round to
catch the approving smile of the rest--"and you may have enough of such
matters before you go to sleep. " The only stop he would make was a
moment's pause to light his lamps.
When it grew dark there seemed to be some excitement amongst the
passengers, and they kept speaking to him, one after the other, as
though urging him to further speed. He lashed the horses unmercifully
with his long whip, and with wild cries of encouragement urged them on
to further exertions. Then through the darkness I could see a sort of
patch of grey light ahead of us, as though there were a cleft in the
hills. The excitement of the passengers grew greater; the crazy coach
rocked on its great leather springs, and swayed like a boat tossed on a
stormy sea. I had to hold on. The road grew more level, and we appeared
to fly along. Then the mountains seemed to come nearer to us on each
side and to frown down upon us; we were entering the Borgo Pass. One by
one several of the passengers offered me gifts, which they pressed upon
me with earnestness which would take no denial; these were certainly of
an odd and varied kind, but each was given in simple good faith, with a
kindly word, and a blessing, and that strange mixture of fear-meaning
movements which I had seen outside the hotel at Bistritz--the sign of
the cross and the guard against the evil eye. Then, as we flew along,
the driver leaned forward, and on each side the passengers, craning
over the edge of the coach, peered eagerly into the darkness. It was
evident that something very exciting was either happening or expected,
but though I asked each passenger, no one would give me the slightest
explanation. This state of excitement kept on for some little time;
and at last we saw before us the Pass opening out on the eastern
side. There were dark, rolling clouds overhead, and in the air the
heavy, oppressive sense of thunder. It seemed as though the mountain
range had separated two atmospheres, and that now we had got into
the thunderous one. I was now myself looking out for the conveyance
which was to take me to the Count. Each moment I expected to see the
glare of lamps through the blackness; but all was dark. The only light
was the flickering rays of our own lamps, in which steam from our
hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud. We could now see the sandy
road lying white before us, but there was on it no sign of a vehicle.
The passengers drew back with a sigh of gladness, which seemed to mock
my own disappointment. I was already thinking what I had best do, when
the driver, looking at his watch, said to the others something which
I could hardly hear, it was spoken so quietly and in so low a tone; I
thought it was, "An hour less than the time. " Then, turning to me, he
said in German worse than my own:--
"There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected, after all. He
will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day;
better the next day. " Whilst he was speaking the horses began to neigh
and snort and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them up.
Then, amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants and a universal
crossing of themselves, a caleche, with four horses, drove up behind
us, overtook us, and drew up beside the coach. I could see from the
flash of our lamps, as the rays fell on them, that the horses were
coal-black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man, with a
long brown beard and a great black hat, which seemed to hide his face
from us. I could only see the gleam of a pair of very bright eyes,
which seemed red in the lamplight, as he turned to us. He said to the
driver:--
"You are early to-night, my friend. " The man stammered in reply:--
"The English Herr was in a hurry," to which the stranger replied:--
"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You
cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are
swift. " As he spoke he smiled, and the lamplight fell on a hard-looking
mouth, with very red lips and sharp-looking teeth, as white as ivory.
One of my companions whispered to another the line from Burger's
"Lenore:"--
"Denn die Todten reiten schnell. "--
("For the dead travel fast. ")
The strange driver evidently heard the words, for he looked up with a
gleaming smile. The passenger turned his face away, at the same time
putting out his two fingers and crossing himself. "Give me the Herr's
luggage," said the driver; and with exceeding alacrity my bags were
handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended from the side of
the coach, as the caleche was close alongside, the driver helping me
with a hand which caught my arm in a grip of steel; his strength must
have been prodigious. Without a word he shook his reins, the horses
turned, and we swept into the darkness of the Pass. As I looked back I
saw the steam from the horses of the coach by the light of the lamps,
and projected against it the figures of my late companions crossing
themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip and called to his horses,
and off they swept on their way to Bukovina.
As they sank into the darkness I felt a strange chill, and a lonely
feeling came over me; but a cloak was thrown over my shoulders, and a
rug across my knees, and the driver said in excellent German:--
"The night is chill, mein Herr, and my master the Count bade me take
all care of you. There is a flask of slivovitz [the plum brandy of the
country] underneath the seat, if you should require it. " I did not take
any, but it was a comfort to know it was there, all the same. I felt a
little strange, and not a little frightened. I think had there been any
alternative I should have taken it, instead of prosecuting that unknown
night journey. The carriage went at a hard pace straight along, then we
made a complete turn and went along another straight road. It seemed
to me that we were simply going over and over the same ground again;
and so I took note of some salient point, and found that this was so.
I would have liked to have asked the driver what this all meant, but
I really feared to do so, for I thought that, placed as I was, any
protest would have had no effect in case there had been an intention
to delay. By and by, however, as I was curious to know how time was
passing, I struck a match, and by its flame looked at my watch; it was
within a few minutes of midnight. This gave me a sort of shock, for I
suppose the general superstition about midnight was increased by my
recent experiences. I waited with a sick feeling of suspense.
Then a dog began to howl somewhere in a farmhouse far down the road--a
long, agonised wailing, as if from fear. The sound was taken up by
another dog, and then another and another, till, borne on the wind
which now sighed softly through the Pass, a wild howling began, which
seemed to come from all over the country, as far as the imagination
could grasp it through the gloom of the night. At the first howl
the horses began to strain and rear, but the driver spoke to them
soothingly, and they quieted down, but shivered and sweated as though
after a runaway from sudden fright. Then, far off in the distance,
from the mountains on each side of us began a louder and sharper
howling--that of wolves--which affected both the horses and myself in
the same way--for I was minded to jump from the caleche and run, whilst
they reared again and plunged madly, so that the driver had to use
all his great strength to keep them from bolting. In a few minutes,
however, my own ears got accustomed to the sound, and the horses so far
became quiet that the driver was able to descend and to stand before
them. He petted and soothed them, and whispered something in their
ears, as I have heard of horse-tamers doing, and with extraordinary
effect, for under his caresses they became quite manageable again,
though they still trembled. The driver again took his seat, and shaking
his reins, started off at a great pace. This time, after going to the
far side of the Pass, he suddenly turned down a narrow roadway which
ran sharply to the right.
Soon we were hemmed in with trees, which in places arched right over
the roadway till we passed as through a tunnel; and again great
frowning rocks guarded us boldly on either side. Though we were in
shelter, we could hear the rising wind, for it moaned and whistled
through the rocks, and the branches of the trees crashed together as
we swept along. It grew colder and colder still, and fine powdery snow
began to fall, so that soon we and all around us were covered with a
white blanket. The keen wind still carried the howling of the dogs,
though this grew fainter as we went on our way. The baying of the
wolves sounded nearer and nearer, as though they were closing round on
us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid, and the horses shared my
fear; but the driver was not in the least disturbed. He kept turning
his head to left and right, but I could not see anything through the
darkness.
Suddenly, away on our left, I saw a faint flickering blue flame. The
driver saw it at the same moment; he at once checked the horses and,
jumping to the ground, disappeared into the darkness. I did not know
what to do, the less as the howling of the wolves grew closer; but
while I wondered the driver suddenly appeared again, and without a word
took his seat, and we resumed our journey. I think I must have fallen
asleep and kept dreaming of the incident, for it seemed to be repeated
endlessly, and now, looking back, it is like a sort of awful nightmare.
Once the flame appeared so near the road that even in the darkness
around us I could watch the driver's motions. He went rapidly to where
the blue flame rose--it must have been very faint, for it did not seem
to illumine the place around it at all--and gathering a few stones,
formed them into some device.
