Peacock Island
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| Geographic Coordinates: 52° 26' 4.42" N, 13° 7' 50.75" E |
For almost every useful institution, links can be traced back to the grand Elector-Prince and his efforts for the arts and sciences. The extraordinary mind of this unique man is linked with the fame and significance of our country. Its glory was founded by him, and his magnificent successors, who were blessed in all the virtues of regents, developed and multiplied them further.
And how great were the challenges which Friedrich Wilhelm had to contend with! The Thirty Years’ War had devastated the land, the plague had killed its inhabitants. He had to start over and establish and recreate every institution which would have been enough to make him famous if he would have merely have had to maintain them. However, superstition and the limited notions of the time which stood counter to reason put constraining chains on all his efforts. Witchcraft, devil summonings, and black arts were widely believed in. There were only vague and unclear definitions for justice and injustice. And the ruthlessly fought, petty disputes between the Christian sects undermined faith and morals. The Elector-Prince stood above all this confusion with a clear mind, and until his death he strove to illuminate them and expand his knowledge.
This overarching drive led him towards alchemy, whose initiates at the time still strove to discover the creation of gold, the philosopher’s stone, and the elixir of life. Thus, the ruler’s mind — which constantly strove for everything new and worth knowing — could hardly fail to be receptive to these marvelous teachings. But even in this indulgence, the Elector-Prince always valued the practical. For this reason, he took the alchemist Daniel Kraft into his service, who had discovered the secret of creating steel. He also purchased the Speculum Hermeticum by Sonnthal and spent time and money in order to test its mysterious recipes.
He also managed to attract the alchemist Kunkel von Löwenstern, and they established a relationship which remains mysterious to this day. This practitioner of the black arts, as he was known by reputation, was given the position of an advisory chamber servant, worked with the Prince in the laboratory, and initiated the latter into the unknown and dangerous mysteries of his art. In these endeavors, the otherwise frugally budgeting lord did not spare any expenses.
Kunkel had kept himself busy with the creation of crystals, and after strenuous labors he managed to smelt bright and transparent crystals — with the assistance of the Evil One, like the people claimed. Now, the Elector-Prince founded a glassworks for him, at the Nuthe river close to the watermills at the Hakschen Dike and then established a glass polishing factory in Berlin.
Kunkel traveled around to the fairs of the country with these precious containers. As popular as these wares were, Kunkel himself was avoided and feared, for everywhere he provided signs of his arts and his mysterious knowledge. He had knowledge of poor harvests and natural events in advance, or was even able to cause them or prevent them as he willed it. He discovered con men and thieves with his Kabbalah and even forced them to return whatever they had stolen. All animals obeyed his commandments, he had a cure for even the most evil diseases, and he himself was warded against any injury.
The Pfaueninsel (“Peacock Island”), which used to be called Kaninchenwerder (“Rabbit Island”) in those days, was an unexplored island covered with ancient oaks, and was located within the fir-rimmed basin of the river Havel. The Elector-Prince had given it to the practitioner of the black arts, and constructed a laboratory for him at its upper end, which was located between the modern farm estate and the hunting cottage. It was here where he retreated to when he came home from his wanderings, it was here where he deciphered the mysterious symbols of the yellowed parchments which the Elector-Prince had searched for in distant lands. And it was in the firm vaults which no one save him was allowed to enter where he mixed the substances according to the dark instructions: Earths, metals, salts, limbs of loathsome animals and harmful poisons. He spoke the powerful formulas over them and then let them melt, ferment, or bubble and rise up in order to transmute them into new and precious forms.
His labors were focused on the crafting of gemstones — the blooms of the mineral kingdom — in particular. And for many weeks, people saw a red glow emanate from the high chimney during the night time, and a thick smoke rose up during the day which withered all growths in the surrounding area. Later, after a dull thud, the chimney might spray a sizzling pillar of flame into the air. Or the smoke cloud would become thinner and paler, and Kunkel — who would become pale after so many sleepless nights — would step out to the light of the sun with hollow eyes and a dark countenance. Then, provided with new sums of money from the Elector-Prince, he would begin the vain attempt anew.
But when the latter once gave him a bag with almost 2000 ducats, together with the strongly-worded hint that this would be the final subsidy for his too-expensive experiments, the pale alchemist carried it into his laboratory with bitter scorn. And after he once more had searched through the kabbalistic signs, he threw the gold into the crucible in desperation, where shining fritted glass was surging in caustic acid. Then he fell unconscious next to the stove.
But when he woke up again, there was a purple-red shimmer in the crucible, and the substance had transformed itself into the precious ruby crystal whose creation he had long striven for. This important discovery ensured the favor of his lord once again, and made his name widely famous. Even now, precious bowls and glass coverings are shown which originated from this flow of rubies created by Kunkel.
But the greater Kunkel’s reputation became and the deeper he penetrated the secrets of his dangerous science, the more he separated himself from other humans, and spent more and more time in the solitude of his island, which developed a darker and darker reputation over time.
His old servant Klaus left him, became a forest supervisor, but was soon after — in the year 1653 — executed as a proven sorcerer. Then Kunkel took a misshapen man in his service. This servant soon after lost his ability to speak, but still remained a devoted, faithful servant. Only this mute companion was allowed to step on the island with him. A large, black dog also served as a protector of the island, and this dog furthermore accompanied Kunkel during his lonely excursions into the dark of the forests. This evil dog was widely feared, and its glowing eyes, but particularly its coarse fur which glowed in the dark gave rise to the belief that it was an evil spirit which served the practitioner of the black arts until it would lead his soul to Hell.
The island, which is now overflowing with all the splendors of nature, and which is now visited by a multitude of people due to it being the favorite location of the unforgettable king, was feared and avoided. No ship ever landed on its shores. And if a brazen fisherman or a sailor from elsewhere dared to touch its soil, he could thank his fortune if he was merely driven away by mysterious pranks. Usually he would have to pay with the sinking of his vehicle, which would mysteriously fall apart like rotten wood, or absorb water like a sponge and go under.
Everyone hurriedly sought distance whenever they encountered the feared alchemist in the fields or in the forest, and even the sailors hurried towards the distant beach whenever he glided over the water with his clam-shaped boat, which moved as if on its own with its paddlewheels. Then he would bathe in the bay rimmed by shadowy alders at the spot where the road now leads down to the Havel opposite to Sacrow.
After the death of the Elector-Prince in 1689, Kunkel was the subject of quite a few investigations. He furthermore was told to make a detailed account of how he used the 27,084 thalers which he had received over time from the departed lord. But the commissars could not condemn him, and thus he continued his mysterious works on his island until he moved to Sweden.
Even after his death, his spirit allegedly could not depart from this location, and it was spotted soon here, soon there. And it is said that even now the fiery dog occasionally hurried along the shores of the Havel, as if it was searching for something. Then it reaches the bay where its master used to bathe, and then vanishes into the forest with a pitiful howling.
Source: Reinhard - Sagen und Mährchen aus Potsdams Vorzeit, p. 153f