Mystification

by Edgar Allan Poe

　　

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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 memberof which (at least as far back into antiquity as any certain recordsextend) was more or less remarkable for talent of some description --the majority for that species of grotesquerie in conception of whichTieck, a scion of the house, has given a vivid, although by no meansthe most vivid exemplifications. My acquaintance with Ritznercommenced at the magnificent Chateau Jung, into which a train ofdroll adventures, not to be made public, threw a place in his regard,and here, with somewhat more difficulty, a partial insight into hismental conformation. In later days this insight grew more clear, asthe intimacy which had at first permitted it became more close; andwhen, after three years of the character of the Baron Ritzner vonJung.I remember the buzz of curiosity which his advent excited within thecollege precincts on the night of the twenty-fifth of June. Iremember still more distinctly, that while he was pronounced by allparties at first sight "the most remarkable man in the world," noperson made any attempt at accounting for his opinion. That he wasunique appeared so undeniable, that it was deemed impertinent toinquire wherein the uniquity consisted. But, letting this matter passfor the present, I will merely observe that, from the first moment ofhis setting foot within the limits of the university, he began toexercise over the habits, manners, persons, purses, and propensitiesof the whole community which surrounded him, an influence the mostextensive and despotic, yet at the same time the most indefinite andaltogether unaccountable. Thus the brief period of his residence atthe university forms an era in its annals, and is characterized byall classes of people appertaining to it or its dependencies as "thatvery extraordinary epoch forming the domination of the Baron Ritznervon Jung." then of no particular age, by which I mean that it wasimpossible to form a guess respecting his age by any data personallyafforded. He might have been fifteen or fifty, and was twenty-oneyears and seven months. He was by no means a handsome man -- perhapsthe reverse. The contour of his face was somewhat angular and harsh.His forehead was lofty and very fair; his nose a snub; his eyeslarge, heavy, glassy, and meaningless. About the mouth there was moreto be observed. The lips were gently protruded, and rested the oneupon the other, after such a fashion that it is impossible toconceive any, even the most complex, combination of human features,conveying so entirely, and so singly, the idea of unmitigatedgravity, solemnity and repose.It will be perceived, no doubt, from what I have already said, thatthe Baron was one of those human anomalies now and then to be found,who make the science of mystification the study and the business oftheir lives. For this science a peculiar turn of mind gave himinstinctively the cue, while his physical appearance afforded himunusual facilities for carrying his prospects into effect. I quaintlytermed the domination of the Baron Ritzner von Jung, ever rightlyentered into the mystery which overshadowed his character. I trulythink 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 Professorof Theology. This, too, when it was evident that the most egregiousand unpardonable of all conceivable tricks, whimsicalities andbuffooneries were brought about, if not directly by him, at leastplainly through his intermediate agency or connivance. The beauty, ifI may so call it, of his art mystifique, lay in that consummateability (resulting from an almost intuitive knowledge of humannature, and a most wonderful self-possession,) by means of which henever failed to make it appear that the drolleries he was occupied inbringing to a point, arose partly in spite, and partly in consequenceof the laudable efforts he was making for their prevention, and forthe preservation of the good order and dignity of Alma Mater. Thedeep, the poignant, the overwhelming mortification, which upon eachsuch failure of his praise worthy endeavors, would suffuse everylineament of his countenance, left not the slightest room for doubtof his sincerity in the bosoms of even his most skeptical companions.The adroitness, too, was no less worthy of observation by which hecontrived to shift the sense of the grotesque from the creator to thecreated -- from his own person to the absurdities to which he hadgiven rise. In no instance before that of which I speak, have I knownthe 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 tolive only for the severities of society; and not even his ownhousehold have for a moment associated other ideas than those of therigid and august with the memory of the Baron Ritzner von Jung. thedemon of the dolce far niente lay like an incubus upon theuniversity. Nothing, at least, was done beyond eating and drinkingand making merry. The apartments of the students were converted intoso many pot-houses, and there was no pot-house of them all morefamous or more frequented than that of the Baron. Our carousals herewere many, and boisterous, and long, and never unfruitful of events.Upon one occasion we had protracted our sitting until nearlydaybreak, and an unusual quantity of wine had been drunk. The companyconsisted of seven or eight individuals besides the Baron and myself.Most of these were young men of wealth, of high connection, of greatfamily pride, and all alive with an exaggerated sense of honor. Theyabounded in the most ultra German opinions respecting the duello. Tothese Quixotic notions some recent Parisian publications, backed bythree or four desperate and fatal conversation, during the greaterpart of the night, had run wild upon the all -- engrossing topic ofthe times. The Baron, who had been unusually silent and abstracted inthe earlier portion of the evening, at length seemed to be arousedfrom his apathy, took a leading part in the discourse, and dwelt uponthe benefits, and more especially upon the beauties, of the receivedcode of etiquette in passages of arms with an ardor, an eloquence, animpressiveness, and an affectionateness of manner, which elicited thewarmest enthusiasm from his hearers in general, and absolutelystaggered even myself, who well knew him to be at heart a ridiculerof those very points for which he contended, and especially to holdthe entire fanfaronade of duelling etiquette in the sovereigncontempt which it deserves.Looking around me during a pause in the Baron's discourse (of whichmy readers may gather some faint idea when I say that it boreresemblance to the fervid, chanting, monotonous, yet musical sermonicmanner of Coleridge), I perceived symptoms of even more than thegeneral interest in the countenance of one of the party. Thisgentleman, whom I shall call Hermann, was an original in everyrespect -- except, perhaps, in the single particular that he was avery great fool. He contrived to bear, however, among a particularset at the university, a reputation for deep metaphysical thinking,and, I believe, for some logical talent. As a duellist he hadacquired who had fallen at his hands; but they were many. He was aman of courage undoubtedly. But it was upon his minute acquaintancewith the etiquette of the duello, and the nicety of his sense ofhonor, that he most especially prided himself. These things were ahobby which he rode to the death. To Ritzner, ever upon the lookoutfor the grotesque, his peculiarities had for a long time pastafforded food for mystification. Of this, however, I was not aware;although, in the present instance, I saw clearly that something of awhimsical nature was upon the tapis with my friend, and that Hermannwas its especial object.As the former proceeded in his discourse, or rather monologue Iperceived the excitement of the latter momently increasing. At lengthhe spoke; offering some objection to a point insisted upon by R., andgiving 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. Thehobby of Hermann now took the bit in his teeth. This I could discernby the studied hair-splitting farrago of his rejoinder. His lastwords I distinctly remember. "Your opinions, allow me to say, Baronvon Jung, although in the main correct, are, in many nice points,discreditable to yourself and to the university of which you are amember. In a few respects they are even unworthy of seriousrefutation. I would say more than this, sir, were it not for the fearof giving you offence (here the speaker smiled blandly), I would say,sir, that your opinions are not the opinions to be expected from agentleman."As Hermann completed this equivocal sentence, all eyes were turnedupon the Baron. He became pale, then excessively red; then, droppinghis pocket-handkerchief, stooped to recover it, when I caught aglimpse of his countenance, while it could be seen by no one else atthe table. It was radiant with the quizzical expression which was itsnatural character, but which I had never seen it assume except whenwe were alone together, and when he unbent himself freely. In aninstant afterward he stood erect, confronting Hermann; and so totalan alteration of countenance in so short a period I certainly neversaw before. For a moment I even fancied that I had misconceived him,and that he was in sober earnest. He appeared to be stifling withpassion, and his face was cadaverously white. For a short time heremained silent, apparently striving to master his emotion. Having atlength seemingly succeeded, he reached a decanter which stood nearhim, saying as he held it firmly clenched "The language you havethought proper to employ, Mynheer Hermann, in addressing yourself tome, is objectionable in so many particulars, that I have neithertemper nor time for specification. That my opinions, however, are notthe opinions to be expected from a gentleman, is an observation sodirectly offensive as to allow me but one line of conduct. Somecourtesy, nevertheless, is due to the presence of this company, andto yourself, at this moment, as my guest. You will pardon me,therefore, if, upon this consideration, I deviate slightly from thegeneral usage among gentlemen in similar cases of personal affront.You will forgive me for the moderate tax I shall make upon yourimagination, and endeavor to consider, for an instant, the reflectionof your person in yonder mirror as the living Mynheer Hermannhimself. This being done, there will be no difficulty whatever. Ishall discharge this decanter of wine at your image in yonder mirror,and thus fulfil all the spirit, if not the exact letter, ofresentment for your insult, while the necessity of physical violenceto your real person will be obviated."With these words he hurled the decanter, full of wine, against themirror which hung directly opposite Hermann; striking the reflectionof his person with great precision, and of course shattering theglass into fragments. The whole company at once started to theirfeet, and, with the exception of myself and Ritzner, took theirdeparture. As Hermann went out, the Baron whispered me that I shouldfollow him and make an offer of my services. To this I agreed; notknowing 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 forbearlaughing in his face while he proceeded to discuss, with theprofoundest gravity, what he termed "the refinedly peculiarcharacter" of the insult he had received. After a tiresome haranguein his ordinary style, he took down from his book shelves a number ofmusty volumes on the subject of the duello, and entertained me for along time with their contents; reading aloud, and commentingearnestly as he read. I can just remember the titles of some of theworks. There were the "Ordonnance of Philip le Bel on Single Combat";the "Theatre of Honor," by Favyn, and a treatise "On the Permissionof Duels," by Andiguier. He displayed, also, with much pomposity,Brantome's "Memoirs of Duels," -- published at Cologne, 1666, in thetypes of Elzevir -- a precious and unique vellum-paper volume, with afine margin, and bound by Derome. But he requested my attentionparticularly, and with an air of mysterious sagacity, to a thickoctavo, written in barbarous Latin by one Hedelin, a Frenchman, andhaving the quaint title, "Duelli Lex Scripta, et non; aliterque."From this he read me one of the drollest chapters in the worldconcerning "Injuriae per applicationem, per constructionem, et perse," about half of which, he averred, was strictly applicable to hisown "refinedly peculiar" case, although not one syllable of the wholematter could I understand for the life of me. Having finished thechapter, he closed the book, and demanded what I thought necessary tobe done. I replied that I had entire confidence in his superiordelicacy of feeling, and would abide by what he proposed. With thisanswer he seemed flattered, and sat down to write a note to theBaron. It ran thus:Sir, -- My friend, M. P.-, will hand you this note. I find itincumbent upon me to request, at your earliest convenience, anexplanation of this evening's occurrences at your chambers. In theevent of your declining this request, Mr. P. will be happy toarrange, with any friend whom you may appoint, the steps preliminaryto 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 thisepistle. He bowed as I presented it; then, with a grave countenance,motioned me to a seat. Having perused the cartel, he wrote thefollowing reply, which I carried to Hermann.SIR, -- Through our common friend, Mr. P., I have received your noteof this evening. Upon due reflection I frankly admit the propriety ofthe explanation you suggest. This being admitted, I still find greatdifficulty, (owing to the refinedly peculiar nature of ourdisagreement, and of the personal affront offered on my part,) in sowording what I have to say by way of apology, as to meet all theminute exigencies, and all the variable shadows, of the case. I havegreat reliance, however, on that extreme delicacy of discrimination,in matters appertaining to the rules of etiquette, for which you havebeen so long and so pre-eminently distinguished. With perfectcertainty, therefore, of being comprehended, I beg leave, in lieu ofoffering any sentiments of my own, to refer you to the opinions ofSieur 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 yourdiscernment in all the matters here treated, will be sufficient, I amassured, to convince you that the mere circumstance of me referringyou to this admirable passage, ought to satisfy your request, as aman of honor, for explanation.With sentiments of profound respect,Your most obedient servant,VON JUNG.The Herr Johann HermannHermann commenced the perusal of this epistle with a scowl, which,however, was converted into a smile of the most ludicrousself-complacency as he came to the rigmarole about Injuriae perapplicationem, per constructionem, et per se. Having finishedreading, he begged me, with the blandest of all possible smiles, tobe seated, while he made reference to the treatise in question.Turning to the passage specified, he read it with great care tohimself, then closed the book, and desired me, in my character ofconfidential acquaintance, to express to the Baron von Jung hisexalted sense of his chivalrous behavior, and, in that of second, toassure him that the explanation offered was of the fullest, the mosthonorable, and the most unequivocally satisfactory nature.Somewhat amazed at all this, I made my retreat to the Baron. Heseemed to receive Hermann's amicable letter as a matter of course,and after a few words of general conversation, went to an inner roomand brought out the everlasting treatise "Duelli Lex scripta, et non;aliterque." He handed me the volume and asked me to look over someportion of it. I did so, but to little purpose, not being able togather the least particle of meaning. He then took the book himself,and read me a chapter aloud. To my surprise, what he read proved tobe a most horribly absurd account of a duel between two baboons. Henow explained the mystery; showing that the volume, as it appearedprima facie, was written upon the plan of the nonsense verses of DuBartas; that is to say, the language was ingeniously framed so as topresent to the ear all the outward signs of intelligibility, and evenof profundity, while in fact not a shadow of meaning existed. The keyto the whole was found in leaving out every second and third wordalternately, when there appeared a series of ludicrous quizzes upon asingle combat as practised in modern times.The Baron afterwards informed me that he had purposely thrown thetreatise in Hermann's way two or three weeks before the adventure,and that he was satisfied, from the general tenor of hisconversation, that he had studied it with the deepest attention, andfirmly believed it to be a work of unusual merit. Upon this hint heproceeded. Hermann would have died a thousand deaths rather thanacknowledge his inability to understand anything and everything inthe universe that had ever been written about the duello.Littleton Barry.

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