The War of Succession: epilogue. In the months to come, Frederik Untermensch made an almost complete recovery, although his left arm remained paralysed and his speech continued to suffer from a slight slur. He never opposed Wilhelm III again, but it is also said that he never overcame his resentment towards the Emperor.
In his memoirs, Siegfried von Trautenau, major-domo of Grand Duke Frederick, recounts:
In the wake of these unfortunate events [i.e. the War of Succession],
the Grand Duke had become prone to recurring periods of deepest melancholy. As a remedy, he commissioned an exquisite triptych for his privy chambers. In his brooding moments, the Grand Duke would lock himself in his chambers, sitting in meditation before the painting, sometimes for hours, until his spirits had been sufficiently lifted. At all other times, the triptych remained closed and locked, and he never allowed anyone else to see the inside, leading to baseless gossip among the servants that it must contain some vile work of pornography and perversion. Based on the notes and receipts in the Grand Ducal archive, the scholar Jan Bienenstock was very recently able to identify the triptych in question as the Saga of Crispin and Crispinian. According to the documents, the painting by the hand of the Westerland painter Harnoult van den Boske (or Aert van den Bossche) was commissioned by Frederik in the summer of 2430. Shortly after completion, the painter disappeared in unresolved circumstances, but, as Bienenstock discovered, the triptych has survived, and is now in possession of the Talabheim Museum of Fine Arts.
The subject of the painting, the Saga of Crispin and Crispinian, is a tale of valour and self-sacrifice from the Age of Wars. In 1577, a Middenheim army invaded Talabecland, seized the city of Talagaad and started a 20 year long siege of the city of Talabheim. During the first winter, Middenheim soldiers managed to capture two captains of the Taalbaston Guard, the twins Crispin and Crispinianus. Despite being subjected to various forms of torture, the brothers stubbornly refused to betray their city and reveal any details about the Talabheim defences; they were finally put to the sword, sacrificing their lives for their city.
1. The Saga of Crispin and Crispinian – central panel
The story in the central panel of the triptych unfolds from left to right, alternating between fore- and background. In the left-hand background, we can see a somewhat fanciful depiction of the city of Talagaad, which served as the headquarters of the Middenheim army during the siege.
The brothers have been escorted out of the city, and are first “softened up” with a club, before their toenails are extracted. Tied to the central tree, dividing the picture in two halves, the twins, with sharp irons driven between the toe- and fingernails, are flayed alive. On either side, almost as a kind of evil pendant to the twin heroes, the Middenheim general with his entourage is represented, once on foot, once on horseback, but always watching in malicious glee. On the right hand side, the torture continues in the rocky landscape near the crater of Talabheim, where the brothers are pushed from a cliff into the frozen waters of the Taal and then boiled alive in a bronze cauldron.
The Saga of Crispin and Crispinian – central panel (detail)
At the bottom, the hands with spiked nails are visible. To the right, you can discern one of the twins trying to crawl away after his fall from the cliff. On the frozen waters of the Taal, a game of
Kolf is played.
2. The Saga of Crispin and Crispinian – wings
The last scene of the central panel is repeated in greater detail on the left wing, but set in different surroundings: in front of a building that notably resembles Tarnhelm’s Keep in Talabheim. An angel of Shallya comforts the suffering twins. The right wing depicts the final act: the decapitation, and, in the background, a hasty, unceremonial burial, a last insult to these brave captains of the Taalbaston Guard.
The subject of the Saga can hardly be said to be “a vile work of pornography and perversion” . Indeed, it seems quite appropriate for the halls of the Grand Duke of Talabheim, but it does seem rather unusual and morbid as a remedy for a melancholic disposition. Closer inspection leads us to suspect that there is something amiss under the surface.
Firstly, the twins bear an uncanny resemblance to Wilhelm III. Aert van den Bossche, of course, also painted the Coronation of Wilhem III (
v. supra, post 12), just before he accepted the commission of Frederik Untermensch. Perhaps no coincidence on Frederiks part? Anyway, if we overlay the face of Crispin (or Crispinianus?) from the left wing triptych on the (reversed) face of Wilhelm III from the Coronation and adjust for the different position of the head, it turns out to be an almost perfect match.
Furthermore, the general of Middenheim looks remarkably like a younger Frederik Untermensch. Just vanity? Or an expression of the thought “If only I had been younger, things might have ended differently”? In the painting at least, Wilhelm III is completely at his whim and mercy.
One may, therefore, conclude at least with some degree of probability that the triptych does indeed represent Frederik’s fantasies of vengeance towards his victor. The objection can be raised that Wilhelm is playing the hero part in the saga, and Frederik the villain. However, this is likely to be a safety device, as the painting could easily be interpreted as an indication of sedition and lese-majesty – which in fact it is. Presumably, this is the reason why Frederik never allowed anyone else to see the triptych in the first place. And perhaps also the reason why it is the last known painting of the artist...
But were they just spiteful fantasies? The discovery of the triptych lends credence to a more sinister tale. Shortly after being installed as Grand Duke of Talabheim, Frederik Untermensch turned Tarnhelm’s Keep (depicted in the triptych!) into a prison. Some believe that this was to placate the reformist Cult of Shallya, but, from the start, there were persistent rumours about secret torture chambers, hidden deep within the very bowels of the dungeon. Here, selected prisoners would enjoy special treatment at the hands of Frederik himself - prisoners selected because of their resemblance to Wilhelm III!
This could may also explain the tales of horror about “the Beast” stalking Tarnhelm’s Keep at night and killing prisoners in a most bloody and gruesome fashion. Perhaps the Beast was not a beast, but an Untermensch.
Without doubt all very fascinating speculation, but, ultimately, just that: speculation. The one who really knows, Frederik Untermensch, Grand Duke of Talabheim, died in 2443.
1. The Martyrdom of Saints Crispin and Crispinian (central triptych) by Aert van den Bossche (1494), National Museum Warsaw.
2. Martyrdom of Saints Crispin and Crispinian, (right wing triptych) by Aert van den Bossche (1494), Museum van de Stad Brussel, K/1977/1&2.