IN THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS       

        SOME PASSING OBSERVATIONS ON "A STRANGE EVENT IN THE LIFE OF SCHALKEN THE PAINTER"

By Benjamin Szumskyj

(ISSN 1932-9598)

            J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s Francis Purcell is among weird fiction’s most intriguing investigators of the paranormal and historical in that Le Fanu chose the worldview of a Christian (more specifically catholic) protagonist to narrate the local legends and mythology of Ireland, an approach few authors have mirrored over a century later. Perhaps the greatest of Purcell’s investigations took place not in his beloved Ireland, but in the Netherlands and surprisingly, is the retelling of story that did not directly affect or involve Le Fanu’s character. “Strange Event in the Life of Schalken the Painter” (originally published in Dublin University Magazine, May 1839) is a compelling story which was the first Le Fanu work I ever read, chosen precisely because I am half Dutch in origin and my ancestors have been genealogically tracked as far back as the fourteenth century. I’d like to make some short comments regarding the story, which have not been raised in past commentaries of the story (of which there are few).

Schalken’s Strange Painting

            “Strange Event in the Life of Schalken the Painter” begins with Francis Purcell retelling a supernatural story as it was told to him by Captain Vandael an acquaintance from his early days and “whose father had served King William in the Low Countries”. In Vandael’s possession is an alleged painting by Godfried Schalcken’s which Purcell is captivated by from the moment he lays his eyes on it. Purcell describes the artwork:

“I had often been struck, while visiting Vandael, by a remarkable picture, in which, though no connoisseur myself, I could not fail to discern some very strong peculiarities, particularly in the distribution of light and shade, as also a certain oddity in the design itself, which interested my curiosity. It represented the interior of what might be a chamber in some antique religious building—the foreground was occupied by a female figure, arrayed in a species of white robe, part of which is arranged so as to form a veil. The dress, however, is not strictly that of any religious order. In its hand the figure bears a lamp, by whose light alone the form and face are illuminated; the features are marked by an arch smile, such as pretty women wear when engaged in successfully practising some roguish trick; in the background, and, excepting where the dim red light of an expiring fire serves to define the form, totally in the shade, stands the figure of a man equipped in the old fashion, with doublet and so forth, in an attitude of alarm, his hand being placed upon the hilt of his sword, which he appears to be in the act of drawing.”

It is evident that Purcell is awestruck by the silent beauty of the masterpiece. But which Schalcken work is Purcell referring to? The answer is none. While some commentators have hinted that the work might be Girl With A Candle, it is more likely that Le Fanu intentionally created a scene reminiscent of Schalcken, amalgamating similar themes and scenarios from several well known painting by the Dutch painter, particularly Girl With A Candle, Salome with the Head of John the Baptist and A Candlelight Scene: A Man offering a Gold Chain and Coins to a Girl. The latter two works, not mentioned before when discussing Le Fanu’s story, contain several elements mentioned in the above quoted scene, from “the figure of a man equipped in the old fashion” to the gold used in A Candlelight Scene paralleling with the gold used by Mynher Vanderhausen to interest Gerard Douw in relinquishing his niece.

Saint Anthony, Mephistopheles & Saint Lawrence?

            Later in the story, Schalken attempts a new work of art late at night:

“But Schalken worked for improvement, or rather for love. Besides, he was now engaged merely in sketching a design, an operation which, unlike that of colouring, might be continued as long as there was light sufficient to distinguish between canvas and charcoal. He had not then, nor, indeed, until long after, discovered the peculiar powers of his pencil, and he was engaged in composing a group of extremely roguish-looking and grotesque imps and demons, who were inflicting various ingenious torments upon a perspiring and pot-bellied St. Anthony, who reclined in the midst of them, apparently in the last stage of drunkenness” (Le Fanu)

Schalken never depicted such a scene (sounding similar to The Temptation of St. Anthony by Martin Schöngauer), but it does appear that Le Fanu was using allegory here rather than truth. Saint Anthony (of Padau) was a patron saint of lost possessions and interestingly, foreshadows a dual component of the story; Gerard Douw’s loss of his “possession” Rose (his niece) to Mynher Vanderhausen and Schalken’s loss of love, which Purcell eloquently narrates “had been selected by the capricious goddess, in his early life, to figure as the hero of a romance by no means devoid of interest or of mystery”.

Moments later, disappointed with his painting, Schalken is confronted by a mysterious figure who instructs him to “Tell Gerard Douw… that Mynher Vanderhausen of Rotterdam, desires to speak with him tomorrow evening at this hour, and, if he please, in this room, upon matters of weight—that is all. Good-night” (Le Fanu). Informing him of the event the next day, Douw accepts the invitation and meets with the stranger that night, accompanied by Shacklen for safety. Vanderhausen’s intentions are made clear:

“I may not tarry with you tonight more than a few minutes, and so I shall briefly tell you the matter upon which I come. You visited the town of Rotterdam some four months ago, and then I saw in the church of St. Lawrence your niece, Rose Velderkaust. I desire to marry her, and if I satisfy you as to the fact that I am very wealthy—more wealthy than any husband you could dream of for her—I expect that you will forward my views to the utmost of your authority. If you approve my proposal, you must close with it at once, for I cannot command time enough to wait for calculations and delays.”

Despite the seemingly passive approach by Vanderhausen, Shacklen was filled with “an undefined horror and dread while standing in the presence of the eccentric stranger”. Given “a mass of golden ingots” as payment, Douw signs a contract in which he relinquishes his niece to Vanderhausen who, with the “compact being thus completed, the strange visitor folded up the paper, and stowed it safely in an inner pocket”. It is at this point, that the reader can not but help reminiscing of Goethe's Faust: A Tragedy, particularly when Vanderhausen reveals his face to the two men and Rose at an evening meal the night after:

“So far all was well; but the face!—all the flesh of the face was coloured with the bluish leaden hue which is sometimes produced by the operation of metallic medicines administered in excessive quantities; the eyes were enormous, and the white appeared both above and below the iris, which gave to them an expression of insanity, which was heightened by their glassy fixedness; the nose was well enough, but the mouth was writhed considerably to one side, where it opened in order to give egress to two long, discoloured fangs, which projected from the upper jaw, far below the lower lip; the hue of the lips themselves bore the usual relation to that of the face, and was consequently nearly black. The character of the face was malignant, even satanic, to the last degree; and, indeed, such a combination of horror could hardly be accounted for, except by supposing the corpse of some atrocious malefactor, which had long hung blackening upon the gibbet, to have at length become the habitation of a demon—the frightful sport of Satanic possession.”

Is Vanderhausen meant to be Mephistopheles, who is later referred to as “demoniac”? We shall never truly know for sure. Despite Rose’s objections, she leaves with Vanderhausen. Months pass and despite “the direct promise of the parties, Gerard Douw heard nothing of his niece, or her worshipful spouse”. Upon searching for him, Douw is told that “No one in Rotterdam had ever heard of Mynher Vanderhausen”.

            Years pass and Schalken receives news on the passing of his father, who is to be buried at a church in Rotterdam. Upon traveling there, weary and mournful, Schalken “sank into a deep sleep, from which he was awakened by some one shaking him gently by the shoulder. He first thought that the old sexton had called him, but he was no longer in the room”. Schalken encounters the ghost of his beloved Rose Velderkaust, who shows him a scene from her life that eventually becomes the same which he paints and becomes the painting that Purcell is so captivated by at the beginning of the story:

“Abundance of costly antique furniture was disposed about the room, and in one corner stood a four-post bed, with heavy black-cloth curtains around it; the figure frequently turned towards him with the same arch smile; and when she came to the side of the bed, she drew the curtains, and by the light of the lamp which she held towards its contents, she disclosed to the horror-stricken painter, sitting bolt upright in the bed, the livid and demoniac form of Vanderhausen…[]

“The picture represents a chamber of antique masonry, such as might be found in most old cathedrals, and is lighted faintly by a lamp carried in the hand of a female figure, such as we have above attempted to describe; and in the background, and to the left of him who examines the painting, there stands the form of a man apparently aroused from sleep, and by his attitude, his hand being laid upon his sword, exhibiting considerable alarm: this last figure is illuminated only by the expiring glare of a wood or charcoal fire.”

            Though it is never mentioned by name, it is likely that the church Schalken attends in Rotterdam is that of Saint Lawrence. Earlier in the story, Vanderhausen cites “the church of St. Lawrence” as being the place where he first saw Rose and later, when Rose meets her future husband, tells her uncle that “when I saw him standing at the door, I could not get it out of my head that I saw the old, painted, wooden figure that used to frighten me so much in the church of St. Lawrence of Rotterdam”. The connection appears intentional and it only seems natural to interpret the church Schalken visits as one in the same. Historically, Saint Lawrence (of Rome) is said to be the saint of libraries (attributed with knowledge), the poor and in some cases, tanners, cooks and Rome itself. While the citation of Saint Anthony earlier is shown to be relevant to the story as a whole, citing Saint Lawrence is more difficult to assess. Perhaps, Le Fanu’s intent was to emphasis the eternal battle between the material and immaterial, lust and love, rich and poor and that neither gold nor the gift of artistry compares to the warmth of a woman.