Alraune

• Prelude
• Chapter 01
• Chapter 02
• Chapter 03
• Chapter 04
• Chapter 05
• Chapter 06
• Chapter 07
• Chapter 08
• Chapter 09
• Chapter 10
• Chapter 11
• Chapter 12
• Chapter 13
• Chapter 14
• Chapter 15
• Afterword

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Alraune

By Hanns Heinz Ewers 1911
Translated by Joe E. Bandel 2008

Copyright 2008 by Joe E. Bandel Protected under United States Copyright Law as a derivative work of a foreign Author originally published prior to 1923

		Chapter 5

About her father and how Death stood as Godfather when Alraune came to life.

Dr. Karl Petersen brought the Privy Councilor a large beautifully bound book that he had prepared especially for this project. The old ten Brinken family crest showed on the upper left corner of the red leather volume. In the middle glowed the large golden letters ATB.

The first page had been left blank. The professor had reserved it to write some early history himself. The next page began with a paragraph in Dr. Petersen’s hand. He wrote of the short and simple life history of the mother and of her character and demeanor.

He had asked the prostitute to tell her life story and then quickly wrote it down. Even her previous convictions were mentioned. Alma had been sentenced twice for vagrancy; five or six times due to violations of police regulations concerning her profession and once because of theft. Yet, she maintained that she was innocent of the theft, the gentleman had given her the diamond pin.

Further down in the second paragraph Dr. Petersen had written down things about the presumptive father, the unemployed miner, Peter Weinland Noerissen, who had been condemned by a court and jury and sentenced to death in the name of the King.

The public prosecutor had presented the facts in an amiable, charming fashion. It appeared that P. Noerissen had been predestined to such a fate from infancy. His mother had been a notorious drinker. His father, an occasional worker, had been previously convicted because of frequent crude misdemeanors. One of his brothers was even now serving ten years in prison on similar grounds.

Peter Weinland Noerissen had become apprenticed to a blacksmith after he finished school. This had played an important part in the proceedings because of the skill and strength that had been displayed in the murder. Many witnesses gave evidence of his displays of unusual strength. He had a history of pushing himself on females even when they said they were not interested.

He had been released from military service because of a congenital defect. He was missing two fingers on his left hand. He worked in several diverse factories before finally coming to the Phoenix mine in the Ruhr industrial district. He was not a member of any trade union, not the old socialist union, the Christian or the mysterious Elks.

He was fired from the mine when he pulled a knife on an overseer. This was a serious violation and he received his first sentence of a year in jail. He was released after his counsel for the defense argued during appeal that the conviction was only based upon the word of the overseer with no real evidence that it was attempted manslaughter.

After that he was on the road, had crossed over the Alps twice and fought his way from Neapel to Amsterdam. While he did work occasionally, he spent most of his time as a vagabond or hobo and was further convicted of a few other petty crimes. It was enough for the public prosecutor to assume that in the course of seven or eight years he had become a hardened criminal with no conscience.

The crime that he was now condemned for was not that clear either. It was still not entirely clear if it had been a robbery gone wrong or an intentional sex murder. The defense tried to portray it as if the accused had only intended to rape the well dressed and well endowed nineteen year old daughter of the home owner, Anna Sibilla Trautwein, when he encountered her in the Ellinger Rhine meadow that fateful evening.

That when he tried to rape the strong and vigorous girl she started screaming and he pulled his knife only to threaten her into silence. It didn’t work and she fought back more vigorously and in the struggle was stabbed. He only finished her off out of the fear of discovery. It was then only natural that he take her petty tip money and jewelry to help him make good his escape.

This account did not match the condition of the corpse itself. It was established that the terrible dismemberment of the victim’s vitals was most skillfully done and the cut almost workman like. The public prosecutor ended with a plea that the appeal to the Imperial court be refused, that there was no need for further reprieve and that the execution take place early in the morning on the following day at six o’clock.

In conclusion the book stated that the delinquent did agree to Dr. Petersen’s request on the condition that he be brought two bottles of whiskey that evening around eight o’clock.

The Privy Councilor finished reading and then gave the book back.

"The father is cheaper than the mother!" He laughed.

"You will attend the execution as well. Don’t forget to bring the common salt solution and other things you will need. Hurry back as soon as possible. Every minute counts, especially in a situation like we have here. There will scarcely be enough time. I will expect you at the clinic early in the morning. Don’t bother finding an attendant. The princess will assist us."

"Princess Wolkonski, Your Excellency?" Dr. Petersen asked.

"Certainly," nodded the professor. "I have my reasons for bringing her into this little operation. Besides, she is very interested in such things. By the way, how is our patient today?"

The assistant doctor said, "Ah, your Excellency. It is the same old story, always the same now for the two weeks that she has been here. She cries, screams and raves- In short, she wants out. Today she smashed a couple of wash basins to pieces."

"Have you seriously tried to talk with her again?" asked the professor.

"I tried, but she scarcely let me get a word out," answered Dr. Petersen. "It is fortunate that tomorrow is finally almost here. How we can ever keep her here until the child comes into the world is a puzzle to me."

"That won’t be your problem Petersen," the Privy Councilor clapped him benevolently on the shoulder. "We will find a way. Just do your duty."

The assistant doctor said, "Your Excellency can count on me for that."

The early morning sun kissed the honeysuckle leaves in the arbor and clean gardens where the Privy Councilor’s white women’s clinic lay. It lightly fondled the many colored dahlias in their dew fresh beds and caressed the large deep blue clematis on the wall.

Many colored finches and large thrushes ran across the smooth path, scurried through the evenly mown lawn and quickly flew off as eight iron hoofs struck sparks as they lightly hit the cobblestones of the street.

The princess climbed out of the carriage and came with quick strides through the garden. Her cheeks glowed, her strong bosom breathed heavily as she climbed the high steps up to the house. The Privy Councilor came up and opened the door for her.

"Come in, I’ve just had some tea made for you."

She said in a panting and hurried voice, "I just came from- there. I saw it. It- it was fabulous- exciting."

He led her into the room. "Where have you just come from, your Highness? From the- execution?"

"Yes," she said. "Dr. Petersen will be here soon. I received a ticket just last night. It was intense- very intense."

The Privy Councilor offered her a chair. "May I pour for you?"

She nodded, "Please, your Excellency. Very kind of you! A pity that you missed it! He was a splendid fellow- tall- strong."

"Who?" he asked. "The delinquent?"

She drank her tea, "Yes, certainly, him! The murderer! Muscular and strapping- a powerful chest- like a boxer. He wore some kind of blue sweater- it was open at the neck. No fat, only muscle and sinews. Like a bull."

"Could your Highness see the execution clearly?" asked the Privy Councilor.

"Perfectly, your Excellency!" she cried. "I stood at the window in the hall. The guillotine was right in front of me. He swayed a bit as he stepped up. They had to support him."

"Please, another piece of sugar, your Excellency."

The Privy Councilor served her. "Did he say anything?"

"Yes," said the princess. "Twice, but each time only one word. The first time as the attorney read the sentence. That’s when he cried out half-loud- but I can’t really repeat it-"

"But your Highness!" The Privy Councilor grinned and patted her lightly on the hand. "You certainly don’t need to get embarrassed in front of me."

She laughed, "No, certainly not. Well then- but reach me another slice of lemon. Thank you. Put it right there in the cup! Well then- he said, no- I can’t say it."

"Highness," said the Professor with mild reproof.

She said, "You must close your eyes first."

The Privy Councilor thought, "Old monkey!" but he closed his eyes. "Now?" he asked.

She still hesitated, "I- I will say it in French-"

"That’s fine, in French then!" He cried impatiently.

Then she pressed her lips together, bent forward and whispered in his ear, "Merde!"

The professor bent backward, the princess’s strong perfume bothered him. "So that’s what he said?"

"Yes," she nodded. And he said it as if he was indifferent to it all. I found it very attractive, almost gentleman like."

"Certainly," confirmed the Privy Councilor. "Only a pity that he didn’t say it in French as well. What was the other word he said?"

"Oh, that was bad," the princess sipped her tea, nibbled at a cookie. It completely ruined the good impression he had made on me! Just think, your Excellency, just as the executioner’s assistants seized him, he suddenly began to scream and cry like a little child."

"Well," said the professor. "Another cup, your Highness? And what did he scream?"

"First he defended himself," she explained. "The best he could, silent and powerfully even though both hands were tightly tied behind his back. There were three assistants and they threw themselves on him while the executioner stood there watching quietly in his dress suit and white gloves. At first it pleased me, how the murderer threw off the three butchers, how they tore at him and pushed without bringing him one step closer. Oh, it was terribly exciting, your Excellency."

"I can only imagine, your Highness," he threw out.

"But then," she continued. "Then it all changed. One grabbed his leg while another pushed his bound arms high and he stumbled forward. At that moment he must have felt his resistance was useless, that he was lost. Perhaps- Perhaps he had been a little drunk- and was now suddenly very sober- Pfui- That’s when he screamed."

The Privy Councilor smiled, "What did he scream? Must I close my eyes again?"

"No," she cried. "He became a coward, a pathetic coward, full of fear. He screamed, ‘Mama!- Mama!- Mama!’ dozens of times while they had him on his knees, dragged him to the guillotine and pushed his head into the circular opening of the board."

"Was he still crying for his mama at the last moment?" asked the Privy Councilor.

"No,’ she answered. "Not at the very last. After the hard board was locked firmly around his neck with his head sticking out the other side he became very quiet. Something seemed to be going on inside of him."

The professor became very attentive, "Could you see his face, your Highness? Could you guess at what was going on inside him?"

The princess said, "I could see him just as clearly as I see you right now sitting in front of me. – What was going on inside him- I don’t really know- there was just an instant- After the executioner looked around one last time to see that everything was ready- when his hand pressed the button that released the blade. I saw the eyes of the murderer, they stood wide open, with insane passion, saw his mouth panting and his features contorted with desire-"

She stopped.

"Was that all?" inquired the Privy Councilor.

She finished, "Yes, then the guillotine fell and his head sprang into the sack that one of the assistants held open- Please, reach me the marmalade, your Excellency."

There was a knock at the door. It opened and Dr. Petersen stepped inside. In his hand swung a long glass tube, tightly corked and wrapped in wadding.

"Good morning, your Highness," he said. "Good morning, your Excellency. Here- here it is."

The princess sprang up, "Let me see-"

But the Privy Councilor held her back. "Slow down, your Highness. You will see it soon enough. If it is all right with you, we will get right to work."

He turned to the assistant doctor, "I don’t know if it will be important, but just in case it would be a good idea if you-"

His voice sunk as he put his lips to the ear of the doctor.

He nodded, "Very well, your Excellency. I will give the orders immediately."

They went through the white corridors and stopped just in front of No. Seventeen.

"Here she is," said the Privy Councilor as he carefully opened the door.

The room was entirely white, radiant with sunlight. The girl lay deeply asleep in bed. A bright ray scurried in from the tightly barred windows, trembled on the floor, clambered up a golden ladder, darted across the sheets and nestled lovingly on her sweet cheek, plunging her red hair into glowing flames. Her lips were moving- half open- as if she were lightly whispering words of love.

"She’s dreaming of her prince," said the Privy Councilor.

Then he laid his cold, moist hand on her shoulder and shook it.

"Wake up Alma."

A slight shock flew through her limbs. She sat up, drunk with sleep.

"What do you want?" she stammered.

Then she recognized the Professor. "Leave me alone."

"Come on Alma, don’t be foolish," the Privy Councilor admonished her. "It is finally time. Be sensible and don’t give us any trouble."

With a quick jerk he pulled the sheets away throwing her onto the floor.

The eyes of the princess widened, "Very good! The girl is very well endowed- that is convenient."

But the prostitute pulled her nightshirt down and covered herself as well as possible with a pillow.

"Go away!" She screamed. "I won’t do it!"

The Privy Councilor waved to the assistant doctor.

"Go," he commanded. "Hurry, we don’t have any time to lose."

Dr. Petersen quickly left the room. The princess came up and sat on the bed, talked to the girl.

"Don’t be silly, little one. It won’t do any good."

She attempted to caress her, massaging her with fat be-ringed fingers over throat and neck, down to her breasts.

Alma pushed her away, "What do you want? Who are you? Go away, away. I won’t do it!"

The princess would not be rebuffed, "I only want what’s best for you child. I’ll give you a pretty ring and a new dress."

"I don’t want a ring," screamed the prostitute. "I don’t need a new dress. I want to go from here. Why won’t they leave me in peace?"

The Privy Councilor opened the glass tube in smiling tranquility.

"Later you will be left in peace and later you can go. Meanwhile you have an obligation to fulfill that you agreed to at the very beginning. Ah, there you are doctor."

He turned to the assistant doctor who had just entered with a chloroform mask in his hand.

"Come here quickly."

The prostitute stared at him with terrified, wide protruding eyes.

"No," she lamented. "No! No!"

She made as if to spring out of the bed and pushed the assistant doctor so hard with both hands on his chest as he tried to restrain her that he staggered back and almost fell down. Then the princess threw herself onto the girl with wide stretched arms, pressing her back into the bed with her mighty weight. Her fingers with their many rings clawed into the luminous flesh as she gripped a long strand of red hair in her teeth.

The prostitute struggled, kicking her legs into the air, unable to free her arms or move her body under this mighty burden. She saw as the doctor placed the mask over her face, heard him lightly counting "one, two, three-".

She screamed and tried to turn her head to the side away from the mask, "No! No! I won’t! I won’t! Oh, I can’t breathe-"

Then her screams died away, turned into a pitiful weak whimper, "Mother, oh mother."

Twelve days later the prostitute Alma Raune was delivered to Criminal Court for imprisonment pending an investigation. The warrant was issued because she was accused of theft and without any home of record considered at risk to flee. The charges were brought by his Excellency Privy Councilor ten Brinken.

Already in the first days the professor had repeatedly asked the assistant doctor if he had not seen this or that thing that was missing. The Privy Councilor was missing an old signet ring that he had set to one side while washing and then left it. He was missing a little money purse that he had left in his overcoat as well as he could remember.

He asked Dr. Petersen to unobtrusively keep a sharp eye on all the employees. Then the assistant doctor’s gold watch disappeared from a room in the clinic where he kept it in a locked drawer in his writing desk. The drawer had been forcibly opened. A thorough search of the clinic and all the employees was immediately declared but nothing was found.

"It must be one of the patients," the Privy Councilor concluded and ordered a search of all the rooms as well. This was led by Dr. Petersen, but again without success.

"Have you forgotten any rooms?" his chief questioned.

"None, your Excellency!" answered the assistant doctor. "Except Alma’s room."

"Why haven’t you checked there?" asked the Privy Councilor again.

"But your Excellency!" Dr. Petersen replied. "That is completely out of the question. The girl is watched night and day. She has not once been out of her room and now since she knows that we have been successful has become completely out of hand. She howls and screams the entire day and threatens to drive us all crazy. She only thinks about how she can escape and other ways to frustrate our goal. To put it straight, your Excellency, it seems impossible to me for us to keep the girl here the entire time."

"So," the Privy Councilor laughed. "Petersen, go and search room seventeen at once. It does not appear to me that we can count on the innocence of the prostitute."

A quarter of an hour later Dr. Petersen came back with a knotted handkerchief.

"Here are the missing items," he said. "I found them in the bottom of the girl’s laundry sack."

"I thought so!" nodded the Privy Councilor. "Now go and telephone the police right away."

The assistant doctor hesitated, "Excuse me, your Excellency, if I may be permitted to object. The girl is certainly not guilty even if the evidence seems to speak against her. Your Excellency should have seen her as I searched the room with the old nurse and finally found the things. She was completely apathetic, wasn’t concerned at all. She certainly didn’t have anything to do with the theft. One of the staff must have taken the items and when threatened by discovery, hid them in her room."

The professor grinned, "You are very chivalrous Petersen. But all the same- telephone the police!"

"Your Excellency," the assistant doctor pleaded. "Can’t we wait a little. Perhaps we can question the staff one more time-"

"Listen Petersen," said the Privy Councilor. "You should think this through a little more. It doesn’t matter at all if the prostitute has stolen these things. The important thing is that we will be rid of her and she will be safe until her hour is come. Isn’t that true? In prison she will be kept safe for us, much safer than here. You know how well we are paying her and I am willing to pay her even more for this little inconvenience- after it is all over.

It won’t by any worse for her in prison than here. Her room will be a little smaller, her bed a little harder and the food won’t be as good. But she will have companions and that will be worth a lot in her condition."

Dr. Petersen looked at him, still not entirely convinced. "Quite true, your Excellency, but- won’t she talk there? It could be very uncomfortable if-"

The Privy Councilor smiled, "How so? Let her talk, as much as she wants. Hysteria- mendax- you know that she is hysterical and that hysterical people are known to lie! No one will believe her, especially since she’s a hysterical pregnant woman. What would she say anyway? The story of the prince, that my nephew swindled her with so neatly?

Do you believe that the judge, the attorney, the prison director, the pastor or any other reasonable person would even listen to such obstruse nonsense? Besides, I will speak to the prison doctor myself- who is he anyway?"

"My colleague, Dr. Perscheidt," said the assistant doctor.

"Ah, your friend, little Perscheidt," the professor confirmed. "I know him as well. I will ask him to keep an especially watchful eye on our patient. I will tell him that she had an affair with an acquaintance of mine that sent her to my clinic and that this gentleman is prepared to take full care of the child in every way. I will also tell him about the extraordinary lies I have observed in the patient and even what stories she is likely to tell him.

Even more, we will retain Legal Councilor Gontram for her defense at our own cost and explain the case to him so that he will not believe anything she says either. Are you still afraid Petersen?"

The assistant doctor looked at his chief in admiration.

"No, your Excellency," he said. "Your Excellency has thought of everything. Whatever is in my power to do, I am at your service, Excellency."

The Privy Councilor sighed loudly, then reached out his hand.

"Thank you dear Petersen. You will not believe how difficult these little lies have been for me. But what is a person to do? Science has always demanded such sacrifices. Our brave predecessors, the doctors of the late Middle Ages, were forced to steal bodies from cemeteries so they could learn anatomy. They risked being criminally charged with violation of a corpse and similar nonsense. We can’t complain, must take such little deceptions into the bargain, for the sake of our sacred science.

Now go Petersen. Telephone the police!"

The assistant doctor left. In his heart was a great and honest admiration for his chief.

Alma Raune was sentenced for burglary. Her stubborn denial and prior conviction worked against her. Despite that, she was given a light sentence. Apparently because she was really very beautiful and also because Legal Councilor Gontram was defending her. She only received one year and six months imprisonment and the time she had already served applied to it as well.

This was further reduced at the request of his Excellency ten Brinken even though her conduct while in prison could in no way be considered model behavior. In his gracious request for a pardon he concluded that her bad behavior was due to her morbidly hysterical condition and also stressed that she would soon become a mother.

In the early morning at the first signs of labor she was released and taken to the ten Brinken clinic. There she was placed in her old white room, No. Seventeen, at the end of the corridor. The labor pains had already begun during transport and Dr. Petersen tried to calm her by saying it would soon be over. But he was wrong.

The labor lasted that entire day, that night and the following day. They let up for a little while and then returned even more strongly. The girl screamed and whimpered, writhing in pain and misery.

The third short paragraph in the leather bound book A. T. B. is in the hand of the assistant doctor and deals with this remarkable birth. He performed, with the assistance of the prison doctor, the very difficult delivery that lasted for three days and ended with the death of the mother. The Privy Councilor himself was not present.

In this account Dr. Petersen stressed the strong constitution and the excellent build of the mother, which should have allowed a very easy delivery. Only the exceptionally rare presentation of the baby caused the complications to take place that in the end made it impossible to save both mother and child.

It was further mentioned that the child, a girl, while being pulled out of the mother’s body began an extraordinary shrieking that was so shrill and penetrating that neither gentlemen or the midwife had ever experienced anything like it before in other births. The screams sounded almost as if the child were experiencing unbelievable pain at being so violently separated from the mother’s womb.

The screams became so penetrating and dreadful that they could scarcely bear the horror of it. His colleague, Dr. Perscheidt, broke into a cold sweat and had to sit down. After the birth the infant immediately became quiet and didn’t even whimper.

The midwife while bathing the delicate and thin child immediately noticed an unusually developed atresia Vaginalis where the legs halfway down to the knees had grown together. After further investigation it was found to be only the external skin that was binding the legs together and corrected through a quick operation.

As for the mother, she had certainly endured heavy pain and suffering without any chloroform, local anesthesia- or even as much as a Scopolamine-morphine injection. She was hemorrhaging so badly they could not risk further stress to her heart. She screamed the entire time for all those long hours and only during the moment of birth itself did the dreadful shrieks of the infant drown out the screams of the mother.

Her moans became weaker, some two and a half-hours later she lost consciousness and died. The direct cause of death was a torn uterus and the resulting hemorrhage.

The body of the prostitute, Alma Raune, was assigned for dissection since her relatives in Halberstadt raised no claims and refused to pay the cost of burial when they were notified. The Anatomy professor Holzberger used it in his lectures and assigned parts of it to each of his students to study. These certainly contributed vastly to their education except for the head, which had been given to senior medical student Fassman of the Hansea fraternity. He was supposed to prepare it as a finished skull but forgot it over vacation. He decided that he already had enough skulls and no longer needed to clean it. Instead he fashioned a beautiful dice box out of the top of the skull. He already had five dice that had been made from the vertebrae of the executed murderer Noerrissen and now they needed a suitable dice box.

Senior medical student Fassman was not superstitious, but he maintained that his dice box served him extremely well when playing for his morning half-pint. He sang such high praise for his skull dice box and bone dice that they gradually acquired a certain reputation. First with his own friends, then within his fraternity and finally over the entire student body.

Senior medical student Fassman loved his dice box and almost saw it as blackmail when his Excellency Privy Councilor ten Brinken asked him to give up his famous dice box and dice at the time of his exam. It so happened that he was very weak in gynecology and the professor had a reputation for giving very strict and difficult exams. The result was that he passed his exam with flying colors. For as long as he owned it, the dice box brought him good luck.

There is one other curious thing that remains in the story of these two people that without ever seeing each other became Alraune’s father and mother, how they were brought together in a strange manner even after their death. The Anatomy building janitor, Knoblauch, threw out the remaining bones and tatters of flesh into a common shallow grave in the gardens of the Anatomy building. It was behind the wall where the white roses climb and grow so abundantly-

		Chapter 5