Manuscript
Found On The Coast Of Yucatan
On August 20, 1917, I, Karl Heinrich, Graf von
Altberg-Ehrenstein, Lieutenant-Commander in the Imperial German Navy and
in charge of the submarine U-29, deposit this bottle and record in the
Atlantic Ocean at a point to me unknown but probably about N. Latitude
20 degrees, W. Longitude 35 degrees, where my ship lies disabled on the
ocean floor. I do so because of my desire to set certain unusual facts
before the public; a thing I shall not in all probability survive to accomplish
in person, since the circumstances surrounding me are as menacing as they
are extraordinary, and involve not only the hopeless crippling of the U-29,
but the impairment of my iron German will in a manner most disastrous.
On the afternoon of June 18, as reported by wireless to the U-61,
bound for Kiel, we torpedoed the British freighter Victory, New
York to Liverpool, in N. Latitude 45 degrees 16 minutes, W. Longitude 28
degrees 34 minutes; permitting the crew to leave in boats in order to obtain
a good cinema view for the admiralty records. The ship sank quite picturesquely,
bow first, the stem rising high out of the water whilst the hull shot down
perpendicularly to the bottom of the sea. Our camera missed nothing, and
I regret that so fine a reel of film should never reach Berlin. After that
we sank the lifeboats with our guns and submerged.
When we rose to the surface about sunset, a seaman's body was found
on the deck, hands gripping the railing in curious fashion. The poor fellow
was young, rather dark, and very handsome; probably an Italian or Greek,
and undoubtedly of the Victory's crew. He had evidently sought refuge
on the very ship which had been forced to destroy his own - one more victim
of the unjust war of aggression which the English pig-dogs are waging upon
the Fatherland. Our men searched him for souvenirs, and found in his coat
pocket a very odd bit of ivory carved to represent a youth's head crowned
with laurel. My fellow-officer, Lieutenant Kienze, believed that the thing
was of great age and artistic value, so took it from the men for himself.
How it had ever come into the possession of a common sailor neither he
nor I could imagine.
As the dead man was thrown overboard there occurred two incidents
which created much disturbance amongst the crew. The fellow's eyes had
been closed; but in the dragging of his body to the rail they were jarred
open, and many seemed to entertain a queer delusion that they gazed steadily
and mockingly at Schmidt and Zimmer, who were bent over the corpse. The
Boatswain Muller, an elderly man who would have known better had he not
been a superstitious Alsatian swine, became so excited by this impression
that he watched the body in the water; and swore that after it sank a little
it drew its limbs into a swiinming position and sped away to the south
under the waves. Kienze and I did not like these displays of peasant ignorance,
and severely reprimanded the men, particularly Muller.
The next day a very troublesome situation was created by the indisposition
of some of the crew. They were evidently suffering from the nervous strain
of our long voyage, and had had bad dreams. Several seemed quite dazed
and stupid; and after satisfying myself that they were not feigning their
weakness, I excused them from their duties. The sea was rather rough, so
we descended to a depth where the waves were less troublesome. Here we
were comparatively calm, despite a somewhat puzzling southward current
which we could not identify from our oceanographic charts. The moans of
the sick men were decidedly annoying; but since they did not appear to
demoralize the rest of the crew, we did not resort to extreme measures.
It was our plan to remain where we were and intercept the liner Dacia,
mentioned in information from agents in New York.
In the early evening we rose to the surface, and found the sea less
heavy. The smoke of a battleship was on the northern horizon, but our distance
and ability to submerge made us safe. What worried us more was the talk
of Boatswain Muller, which grew wilder as night came on. He was in a detestably
childish state, and babbled of some illusion of dead bodies drifting past
the undersea portholes; bodies which looked at him intensely, and which
he recognized in spite of bloating as having seen dying during some of
our victorious German exploits. And he said that the young man we had found
and tossed overboard was their leader. This was very gruesome and abnormal,
so we confined Muller in irons and had him soundly whipped. The men were
not pleased at his punishment, but discipline was necessary. We also denied
the request of a delegation headed by Seaman Zimmer, that the curious carved
ivory head be cast into the sea.
On June 20, Seaman Bohin and Schmidt, who had been ill the day before,
became violently insane. I regretted that no physician was included in
our complement of officers, since German lives are precious; but the constant
ravings of the two concerning a terrible curse were most subversive of
discipline, so drastic steps were taken. The crew accepted the event in
a sullen fashion, but it seemed to quiet Muller; who thereafter gave us
no trouble. In the evening we released him, and he went about his duties
silently.
In the week that followed we were all very nervous, watching for
the Dacia. The tension was aggravated by the disappearance of Muller
and Zimmer, who undoubtedly committed suicide as a result of the fears
which had seemed to harass them, though they were not observed in the act
of jumping overboard. I was rather glad to be rid of Muller, for even his
silence had unfavorably affected the crew. Everyone seemed inclined to
be silent now, as though holding a secret fear. Many were ill, but none
made a disturbance. Lieutenant Kienze chafed under the strain, and was
annoyed by the merest trifle - such as the school of dolphins which gathered
about the U-29 in increasing numbers, and the growing intensity of that
southward current which was not on our chart.
It at length became apparent that we had missed the Dacia
altogether. Such failures are not uncommon, and we were more pleased than
disappointed, since our return to Wilhelmshaven was now in order. At noon
June 28 we turned northeastward, and despite some rather comical entanglements
with the unusual masses of dolphins, were soon under way.
The explosion in the engine room at 2 A.M. was wholly a surprise.
No defect in the machinery or carelessness in the men had been noticed,
yet without warning the ship was racked from end to end with a colossal
shock. Lieutenant Kienze hurried to the engine room, finding the fuel-tank
and most of the mechanism shattered, and Engineers Raabe and Schneider
instantly killed. Our situation had suddenly become grave indeed; for though
the chemical air regenerators were intact, and though we could use the
devices for raising and submerging the ship and opening the hatches as
long as compressed air and storage batteries might hold out, we were powerless
to propel or guide the submarine. To seek rescue in the life-boats would
be to deliver ourselves into the hands of enemies unreasonably embittered
against our great German nation, and our wireless had failed ever since
the Victory affair to put us in touch with a fellow U-boat of the
Imperial Navy.
From the hour of the accident till July 2 we drifted constantly to
the south, almost without plans and encountering no vessel. Dolphins still
encircled the U-29, a somewhat remarkable circumstance considering the
distance we had covered. On the morning of July 2 we sighted a warship
flying American colors, and the men became very restless in their desire
to surrender. Finally Lieutenant Menze had to shoot a seaman named Traube,
who urged this un-German act with especial violence. This quieted the crew
for the time, and we submerged unseen.
The next afternoon a dense flock of sea-birds appeared from the south,
and the ocean began to heave ominously. Closing our hatches, we awaited
developments until we realized that we must either submerge or be swamped
in the mounting waves. Our air pressure and electricity were diminishing,
and we wished to avoid all unnecessary use of our slender mechanical resources;
but in this case there was no choice. We did not descend far, and when
after several hours the sea was calmer, we decided to return to the surface.
Here, however, a new trouble developed; for the ship failed to respond
to our direction in spite of all that the mechanics could do. As the men
grew more frightened at this undersea imprisonment, some of them began
to mutter again about Lieutenant Kienze's ivory image, but the sight of
an automatic pistol calmed them. We kept the poor devils as busy as we
could, tinkering at the machinery even when we knew it was useless.
Kienze and I usually slept at different times; and it was during
my sleep, about 5 A.M., July 4, that the general mutiny broke loose. The
six remaining pigs of seamen, suspecting that we were lost, had suddenly
burst into a mad fury at our refusal to surrender to the Yankee battleship
two days before, and were in a delirium of cursing and destruction. They
roared like the animals they were, and broke instruments and furniture
indiscriminately; screaming about such nonsense as the curse of the ivory
image and the dark dead youth who looked at them and swam away. Lieutenant
Kienze seemed paralyzed and inefficient, as one might expect of a soft,
womanish Rhinelander. I shot all six men, for it was necessary, and made
sure that none remained alive.
We expelled the bodies through the double hatches and were alone
in the U-29. Kienze seemed very nervous, and drank heavily. It was decided
that we remain alive as long as possible, using the large stock of provisions
and chemical supply of oxygen, none of which had suffered from the crazy
antics of those swine-hound seamen. Our compasses, depth gauges, and other
delicate instruments were ruined; so that henceforth our only reckoning
would be guess work, based on our watches, the calendar, and our apparent
drift as judged by any objects we might spy through the portholes or from
the conning tower. Fortunately we had storage batteries still capable of
long use, both for interior lighting and for the searchlight. We often
cast a beam around the ship, but saw only dolphins, swimming parallel to
our own drifting course. I was scientifically interested in those dolphins;
for though the ordinary Delphinus delphis is a cetacean mammal,
unable to subsist without air, I watched one of the swimmers closely for
two hours, and did not see him alter his submerged condition.
With the passage of time Kienze and I decided that we were still
drifting south, meanwhile sinking deeper and deeper. We noted the marine
fauna and flora, and read much on the subject in the books I had carried
with.me for spare moments. I could not help observing, however, the inferior
scientific knowledge of my companion. His mind was not Prussian, but given
to imaginings and speculations which have no value. The fact of our coming
death affected him curiously, and he would frequently pray in remorse over
the men, women, and children we had sent to the bottom; forgetting that
all things are noble which serve the German state. After a time he became
noticeably unbalanced, gazing for hours at his ivory image and weaving
fanciful stories of the lost and forgotten things under the sea. Sometimes,
as a psychological experiment, I would lead him on in the wanderings, and
listen to his endless poetical quotations and tales of sunken ships. I
was very sorry for him, for I dislike to see a German suffer; but he was
not a good man to die with. For myself I was proud, knowing how the Fatherland
would revere my memory and how my sons would be taught to be men like me.
On August 9, we espied the ocean floor, and sent a powerful beam
from the searchlight over it. It was a vast undulating plain, mostly covered
with seaweed, and strewn with the shells of small moflusks. Here and there
were slimy objects of puzzling contour, draped with weeds and encrusted
with barnacles, which Kienze declared must be ancient ships lying in their
graves. He was puzzled by one thing, a peak of solid matter, protruding
above the oceanbed nearly four feet at its apex; about two feet thick,
with flat sides and smooth upper surfaces which met at a very obtuse angle.
I called the peak a bit of outcropping rock, but Kienze thought he saw
carvings on it. After a while he began to shudder, and turned away from
the scene. as if frightened; yet could give no explanation save that he
was overcome with the vastness, darkness, remoteness, antiquity, and mystery
of the oceanic abysses. His mind was tired, but I am always a German, and
was quick to notice two things: that the U-29 was standing the deep-sea
pressure splendidly, and that the peculiar dolphins were still about us,
even at a depth where the existence of high organisms is considered impossible
by most naturalists. That I had previously overestimated our depth, I was
sure; but none the less we must still have been deep enough to make these
phenomena remarkable. Our southward speed, as gauged by the ocean floor,
was about as I had estimated from the organisms passed at higher levels.
It was at 3:15 PM., August 12, that poor Kienze went wholly mad.
He had been in the conning tower using the searchlight when I saw him bound
into the library compartment where I sat reading, and his face at once
betrayed him. I will repeat here what he said, underlining the words he
emphasized: "He is calling! He is calling! I hear him! We
must go!" As he spoke he took his ivory image from the table, pocketed
it, and seized my arm in an effort to drag me up the companionway to the
deck. In a moment I understood that he meant to open the hatch and plunge
with me into the water outside, a vagary of suicidal and homicidal mania
for which I was scarcely prepared. As I hung back and attempted to soothe
him he grew more violent, saying: "Come now - do not wait until
later; it is better to repent and be forgiven than to defy and be condemned."
Then I tried the opposite of the soothing plan, and told him he was mad
- pitifully demented. But he was unmoved, and cried: "If I am mad, it is
mercy. May the gods pity the man who in his callousness can remam sane
to the hideous end! Come and be mad whilst he still calls with mercy!"
This outburst seemed to relieve a pressure in his brain; for as he
finished he grew much milder, asking me to let him depart alone if I would
not accompany him. My course at once became clear. He was a German, but
only a Rhinelander and a commoner; and he was now a potentially dangerous
madman. By complying with his suicidal request I could immediately free
myself from one who was no longer a companion but a menace. I asked him
to give me the ivory image before he went, but this request brought from
him such uncanny laughter that I did not repeat it. Then I asked him if
he wished to leave any keepsake or lock of hair for his family in Germany
in case I should be rescued, but again he gave me that strange laugh. So
as he climbed the ladder I went to the levers and, allowing proper time-intervals,
operated the machinery which sent him to his death. After I saw that he
was no longer in the boat I threw the searchlight around the water in an
effort to obtain a last glimpse of him since I wished to ascertain whether
the water-pressure would flatten him as it theoretically should, or whether
the body would be unaffected, like those extraordinary dolphins. I did
not, however, succeed in finding my late companion, for the dolphins were
massed thickly and obscuringly about the conning tower.
That evening I regretted that I had not taken the ivory image surreptitiously
from poor Kienze's pocket as he left, for the memory of it fascinated me.
I could not forget the youthful, beautiful head with its leafy crown, though
I am not by nature an artist. I was also sorry that I had no one with whom
to converse. Kienze, though not my mental equal, was much better than no
one. I did not sleep well that night, and wondered exactly when the end
would come. Surely, I had little enough chance of rescue.
The next day I ascended to the conning tower and commenced the customary
searchlight explorations. Northward the view was much the same as it had
been all the four days since we had sighted the bottom, but I perceived
that the drifting of the U-29 was less rapid. As I swung the beam around
to the south, I noticed that the ocean floor ahead fell away in a marked
declivity, and bore curiously regular blocks of stone in certain places,
disposed as if in accordance with definite patterns. The boat did not at
once descend to match the greater ocean depth, so I was soon forced to
adjust the searchlight to cast a sharply downward beam. Owing to the abruptness
of the change a wire was disconnected, which necessitated a delay of many
minutes for repairs; but at length the light streamed on again, flooding
the marine valley below me.
I am not given to emotion of any kind, but my amazement was very
great when I saw what lay revealed in that electrical glow. And yet as
one reared in the best Kultur of Prussia, I should not have been
amazed, for geology and tradition alike tell us of great transpositions
in oceanic and continental areas. What I saw was an extended and elaborate
array of ruined edifices; all of magnificent though unclassified architecture,
and in various stages of preservation. Most appeared to be of marble, gleaming
whitely in the rays of the searchlight, and the general plan was of a large
city at the bottom of a narrow valley, with numerous isolated temples and
villas on the steep slopes above. Roofs were fallen and columns were broken,
but there still remained an air of immemorially ancient splendor which
nothing could efface.
Confronted at last with the Atlantis I had formerly deemed largely
a myth, I was the most eager of explorers. At the bottom of that valley
a river once had flowed; for as I examined the scene more closely I beheld
the remains of stone and marble bridges and sea-walls, and terraces and
embankments once verdant and beautiful. In my enthusiasm I became nearly
as idiotic and sentimental as poor Kienze, and was very tardy in noticing
that the southward current had ceased at last, allowing the U-29 to settle
slowly down upon the sunken city as an airplane settles upon a town of
the upper earth. I was slow, to, in realizing that the school of unusual
dolphins had vanished.
In about two hours the boat rested in a paved plaza close to the
rocky wall of the valley. On one side I could view the entire city as it
sloped from the plaza down to the old river-bank; on the other side, in
startling proximity, I was confronted by the richly ornate and perfectly
preserved facade of a great building, evidently a temple, hollowed from
the solid rock. Of the original workmanship of this titanic thing I can
only make conjectures. The facade, of immense magnitude, apparently covers
a continuous hollow recess; for its windows are many and widely distributed.
In the center yawns a great open door, reached by an impressive flight
of steps, and surrounded by exquisite carvings like the figures of Bacchanals
in relief. Foremost of all are the great columns and frieze, both decorated
with sculptures of inexpressible beauty; obviously portraying idealized
pastoral scenes and processions of priests and priestesses bearing strange
ceremonial devices in adoration of a radiant god. The art is of the most
phenomenal perfection, largely Hellenic in idea, yet strangely individual.
It imparts an impression of terrible antiquity, as though it were the remotest
rather than the immediate ancestor of Greek art. Nor can I doubt that every
detail of this massive product was fashioned from the virgin hillside rock
of our planet. It is palpably a part of the valley wall, though how the
vast interior was ever excavated I cannot imagine. Perhaps a cavern or
series of caverns furnished the nucleus. Neither age nor submersion has
corroded the pristine grandeur of this awful fane - for fane indeed it
must be - and today after thousands of years it rests untarnished and inviolate
in the endless night and silence of an ocean-chasm.
I cannot reckon the number of hours I spent in gazing at the sunken
city with its buildings, arches, statues, and bridges, and the colossal
temple with its beauty and mystery. Though I knew that death was near,
my curiosity was consuming; and I threw the searchlight beam about in eager
quest. The shaft of light permitted me to learn many details, but refused
to show anything within the gaping door of the rock-hewn temple; and after
a time I turned off the current, conscious of the need of conserving power.
The rays were now perceptibly dimmer than they had been during the weeks
of drifting. And as if sharpened by the coming deprivation of light, my
desire to explore the watery secrets grew. I, a German, should be the first
to tread those eon-forgotten ways!
I produced and examined a deep-sea diving suit of jointed metal,
and experimented with the portable light and air regenerator. Though I
should have trouble in managing the double hatches alone, I believed I
could overcome all obstacles with my scientific skill and actually walk
about the dead city in person.
On August 16 I effected an exit from the U-29, and laboriously made
my way through the ruined and mud-choked streets to the ancient river.
I found no skeletons or other human remains, but gleaned a wealth of archeological
lore from sculptures and coins. Of this I cannot now speak save to utter
my awe at a culture in the full noon of glory when cave-dwellers roamed
Europe and the Nile flowed unwatched to the sea. Others, guided by this
manuscript if it shall ever be found, must unfold the mysteries at which
I can only hint. I returned to the boat as my electric batteries grew feeble,
resolved to explore the rock temple on the following day.
On the 17th, as my impulse to search out the mystery of the temple
waxed still more insistent, a great disappointment befell me; for I found
that the materials needed to replenish the portable light had perished
in the mutiny of those pigs in July. My rage was unbounded, yet my German
sense forbade me to venture unprepared into an utterly black interior which
might prove the lair of some indescribable marine monster or a labyrinth
of passages from whose windings I could never extricate myself. All I could
do was to turn on the waning searchlight of the U-29, and with its aid
walk up the temple steps and study the exterior carvings. The shaft of
light entered the door at an upward angle, and I peered in to see if I
could glimpse anything, but all in vain. Not even the roof was visible;
and though I took a step or two inside after testing the floor with a staff,
I dared not go farther. Moreover, for the first time in my life I experienced
the emotion of dread. I began to realize how some of poor Kienze's moods
had arisen, for as the temple drew me more and more, I feared its aqueous
abysses with a blind and mounting terror. Returning to the submarine, I
turned off the lights and sat thinking in the dark. Electricity must now
be saved for emergencies.
Saturday the 18th I spent in total darkness, tormented by thoughts
and memories that threatened to overcome my German will. Kienze bad gone
mad and perished before reaching this sinster remnant of a past unwholesomely
remote, and had advised me to go with him. Was, indeed, Fate preserving
my reason only to draw me irresistibly to an end more horrible and unthinkable
than any man has dreamed of? Clearly, my nerves were sorely taxed, and
I must cast off these impressions of weaker men.
I could not sleep Saturday night, and turned on the lights regardless
of the future. It was annoying that the electricity should not last out
the air and provisions. I revived my thoughts of euthanasia, and examined
my automatic pistol. Toward morning I must have dropped asleep with the
lights on, for I awoke in darkness yesterday afternoon to find the batteries
dead. I struck several matches in succession, and desperately regretted
the improvidence which had caused us long ago to use up the few candles
we carried.
After the fading of the last match I dared to waste, I sat very quietly
without a light. As I considered the inevitable end my mind ran over preceding
events, and developed a hitherto dormant impression which would have caused
a weaker and more superstitious man to shudder. The head of the radiant
god in the sculptures on the rock temple is the same as that carven bit
of ivory which the dead sailor brought from the sea and which poor Kienze
carried back into the sea.
I was a little dazed by this coincidence, but did not become terrified.
It is only the inferior thinker who hastens to explain the singular and
the complex by the primitive shortcut of supernaturalism. The coincidence
was strange, but I was too sound a reasoner to connect circumstances which
admit of no logical connection, or to associate in any uncanny fashion
the disastrous events which had led from the Victory affair to my
present plight. Feeling the need of more rest, I took a sedative and secured
some more sleep. My nervous condition was reflected in my dreams, for I
seemed to hear the cries of drowning persons, and to see dead faces pressing
against the portholes of the boat. And among the dead faces was the living,
mocking face of the youth with the ivory image.
I must be careful how I record my awakening today, for I am unstrung,
and much hallucination is necessarily mixed with fact. Psychologically
my case is most interesting, and I regret that it cannot be observed scientifically
by a competent German authority. Upon opening my eyes my first sensation
was an overmastering desire to visit the rock temple; a desire which grew
every instant, yet which I automatically sought to resist through some
emotion of fear which operated in the reverse direction. Next there came
to me the impression of light amidst the darkness of dead batteries,
and I seemed to see a sort of phosphorescent glow in the water through
the porthole which opened toward the temple. This aroused my curiosity,
for I knew of no deep-sea organism capable of emitting such luminosity.
But before I could investigate there came a third impression which
because of its irrationality caused me to doubt the objectivity of anything
my senses might record. It was an aural delusion; a sensation of rhythmic,
melodic sound as of some wild yet beautiful chant or choral hymn, coming
from the outside through the absolutely sound-proof hull of the U-29. Convinced
of my psychological and nervous abnormallty, I lighted some matches and
poured a stiff dose of sodium bromide solution, which seemed to calm me
to the extent of dispelling the illusion of sound. But the phosphorescence
remained, and I had difficulty in repressing a childish impulse to go to
the porthole and seek its source. It was horribly realistic, and I could
soon distinguish by its aid the familiar objects around me, as well as
the empty sodium bromide glass of which I had had no former visual impression
in its present location. This last circumstance made me ponder, and I crossed
the room and touched the glass. It was indeed in the place where I had
seemed to see it. Now I knew that the light was either real or part of
an hallucination so fixed and consistent that I could not hope to dispel
it, so abandoning all resistance I ascended to the conning tower to look
for the luminous agency. Might it not actually be another U-boat, offering
possibilities of rescue?
It is well that the reader accept nothing which follows as objective
truth, for since the events transcend natural law, they are necessily the
subjective and unreal creations of my overtaxed mind. When I attained the
conning tower I found the sea in general far less luminous than I had expected.
There was no animal or vegetable phosphorescence about, and the city that
sloped down to the river was invisible in blackness. What I did see was
not spectacular, not grotesque or terrifying, yet it removed my last vestige
of trust in my consciousness. For the door and windows of the undersea
temple hewn from the rocky hill were vividly aglow with a flickering radiance,
as from a mighty altar-flame far within.
Later incidents are chaotic. As I stared at the uncannily lighted
door and windows, I became subject to the most extravagant visions - visions
so extravagant that I cannot even relate them. I fancied that I discerned
objects in the temple; objects both stationary and moving; and seemed to
hear again the unreal chant that had floated to me when first I awaked.
And over all rose thoughts and fears which centered in the youth from the
sea and the ivory image whose carving was duplicated on the frieze and
columns of the temple before me. I thought of poor Kienze, and wondered
where his body rested with the image he had carried back into the sea.
He had warned me of something, and I had not heeded - but he was a soft-headed
Rhinelander who went mad at troubles a Prussian could bear with ease.
The rest is very simple. My impulse to visit and enter the temple
has now become an inexplicable and imperious command which ultimately cannot
be denied. My own German will no longer controls my acts, and volition
is henceforward possible only in minor matters. Such madness it was which
drove Kienze to his death, bare-headed and unprotected in the ocean; but
I am a Prussian and a man of sense, and will use to the last what little
will I have. When first I saw that I must go, I prepared my diving suit,
helmet, and air regenerator for instant donning, and immediately commenced
to write this hurried chronicle in the hope that it may some day reach
the world. I shall seal the manuscript in a bottle and entrust it to the
sea as I leave the U-29 for ever.
I have no fear, not even from the prophecies of the madman Kienze.
What I have seen cannot be true, and I know that this madness of my own
will at most lead only to suffocation when my air is gone. The light in
the temple is a sheer delusion, and I shall die calmly like a German, in
the black and forgotten depths. This demoniac laughter which I hear as
I write comes only from my own weakening brain. So I will carefully don
my suit and walk boldly up the steps into the primal shrine, that silent
secret of unfathomed waters and uncounted years.