ABSTRACT
In the summer, in August, there came a master Michell 1 to Copenhagen from Italy. He had travelled far and wide in Christian countries, and had with him a model of a castle with a wonderful tower rising above it, in the which were eighteen bells, each with its own note, tuned to a chime according to the will of the master and the arrangement of the clock-work. Two little steel hammers struck upon each bell every time while their charming melody lasted. Up in the tower were doors which opened of themselves as often as the clock had struck a full stroke, as the day wore on. Outside the doors were two angels, motionless to look upon between the strokes of the clock. But when it struck and the doors burst open, then each of these angels sprang up and put his clarion to his mouth. And every time this happened it seemed as if Christ appeared in His actual human form, so that no unlearned person could regard it otherwise, and it seemed that He looked to both sides and stretched out His hands and invited all to come to Him. This lasted as long as the bells played the four verses of whatever hymn the master had set them to in four voices, so that it was a great joy to listen to it. Many women shed tears of joy both over the music and over the fair likeness of Christ’s bodily form. But when the four verses were ended the figure of Christ withdrew slowly; the doors closed again, the angels seated themselves and straightway laid aside the clarions from their mouths. And for the whole hour all this lay as in a trance. Nor was the tower part of the model empty of interest, for as soon as the doors of heaven (as they were meant to be) closed again and the figure of Christ disappeared, then doors lower down in the castle were opened, and at once there issued forth a coal-black fiend with crooked claws, hooked nose, twisted locks, and horrid to look upon. It seemed as if he clawed with his talons, eager to snatch everything, but as soon as the hour was over and the upper doors burst open and the figure of Christ appeared the fiend fled within; and here we may end our description of this masterpiece 1 .
