Powers of Darkness

WHILE I WAITED IN LONDON FOR ORDERS FROM MY employer, I did not forget to visit the British Museum to gain some knowledge about Transylvania from books and maps, as up to this point I knew next to nothing about it. I learned that my destination was in the eastern part of the country, somewhere up in the Carpathian Mountains, close to the borders between Transylvania, Moldavia and Bukovina ²⁸—in other words, in one of the wildest, least-known corners of Europe. As the maps they make in Transylvania cannot be compared to those created for the War Office²⁹ back home in England, I could not locate Castle Dracula on any of them. The post town is called Bistritz,³⁰ and the castle is close to the Borgo Pass.³¹Transylvania’s population is a colorful mixture of varied nations, just like in Hungary—at least according to the experts at the British Museum. They say that the country is a melting pot of Germans, Vlachs, Magyars, Czechs, Slovaks, Gypsies, Slovenes, and God knows how many other diverse peoples.³² Religions are nearly as numerous as ethnicities, and apart from that, the semicircle³³ of the Carpathians, so to speak, harbors all the superstitions and backwoods beliefs³⁴ of this world, along with plenty of obscure tales, archaic myths, and customs passed down over centuries.³⁵ Here the tribes met in ancient times, when they were still moving from place to place, and today, Western culture and the occultism of the East still intersect here, like two rivers meeting, forming a vortex where much of what has elsewhere long ago sunk deep into oblivion still swirls near the surface—emerging when we least expect it. This is all very interesting, but unfortunately I am too much the lawyer,³⁶ and thus engaging in such studies—whether national or historical—is not my innate strength. Who knows, perhaps the Count could enlighten me on this subject?

The Count had sent me detailed instructions about how to organize my trip, recommending the Golden Crown guesthouse to me, which he believes to be the best place to stay in this area.³⁷ I followed his directions and soon found that they had been expecting me, for at the very entrance I was met by an old woman with a kind face, wearing an ordinary peasant dress. She bowed low and asked in more or less understandable German if I was “Mr. Englishman.” I said that I was and told her my name. She looked at me closely and then said something to a man in the next room. He came at once with a letter in his hand, and I immediately recognized the Count’s handwriting, which is very queer. It was written in English, just as were his letters to the lawyer’s office in London where I work, and it read as follows:

“Dear Sir!

Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. At seven tomorrow evening the mail coach will leave from Bistritz for Bukovina, and I have booked you a fare on it.³⁸ I will have my carriage wait in the Borgo Pass to bring you to my home. I hope that you have not strained yourself too much during the journey, and that you will enjoy your visit to our beautiful country as you are bound to stay here for both our benefits, and am your friend,³⁹

Dracula.”⁴⁰