Johannes with the Golden Mouth


Johannes with the Golden Mouth: A Legend

Johannes mit dem güldnen Mund: Eine Legende

Sophie Brentano-Mereau, publication date unknown, likely in Mereau’s lifetime (1770–1806)


This tale forms an exciting extension to my project, since it has not been translated by me, but by two students of German at the University of Reading, Jennifer Trinti and Laura Toninelli. I was approached by their tutor, asking if I might feature their translation on my blog, which I was of course very eager to do. This project has always at its heart been about widening the readership of German women writers, and if I’ve inspired other students to help with this effort that’s more than I could have hoped for. I should also add that the reason I haven’t posted any of my other translations on this blog is because I’ve decided to self-publish them in a small book, so want to save some content for that—watch this space! I now hand over to Jennifer and Laura, enjoy!



This story tells the tale of a young man, destined to be a holy man. By singing Masses as a priest, he would deliver a soul from its torment. His divine gift of great knowledge is revealed through a golden ring around his lips. As time passes, he is assailed by doubts about himself and retreats to the forest to pray. His encounter with the emperor's daughter, however, will have a great influence on the course of events.

We were intrigued by this story, which not only highlights the importance of repentance and holy deeds, being the legend of a saint’s life, but also mentions doubts about being suited to the role assigned, the following abandonment of it and the vulnerability to sexual and murderous impulses. We felt it was our duty to provide a translation so that even non-German speakers could read the story so that it can receive the recognition it deserves. This was in respect of the writer, who was engaged in the translation of other writers’ works as well.

Sophie Brentano-Mereau, née Schubart, was born in Altenburg in 1770. She married Friedrich Karl Mereau, a professor at the University of Jena, and published most of her works under her married name of Mereau. She took her second surname from her second husband Clemens Brentano, poet and novelist. Her literary debut as a writer came with her criticism of Fichte's ideas about women in the novel Das Blüthenalter der Empfindung (The Flowering Age of Sentiment, 1794). She then wrote poems (Gedichte, 1800-02), a major epistolary novel (Amanda und Eduard, 1803) and edited three literary journals. Alongside her other works, she contributed to the literature of German Romanticism with numerous translations. Her life was tragically affected by the loss of her parents during her adolescence and later, by the deaths of her first, third and fourth children as well as the miscarriage of her fifth. She died in childbirth in 1806 in Heidelberg, while delivering her sixth child.

Johannes with the Golden Mouth: A Legend

Translated by Jennifer Trinti and Laura Toninelli
Edited by Eve Mason

There once lived a pope in Rome, who went out riding one day with a great retinue. The pope was in the habit of frequently riding away from the others so that he could pray in solitude. And so he did now, leaving his retinue and riding far into a high forest, where, as soon as he found himself alone, he said his prayers with such deep devotion and loud voice that his words echoed through the green halls of the high, quiet temple. Suddenly, a loud sound of such pitiful pain reached him through that otherwise peaceful and isolated place, that he could not resist a shudder and thought to himself: “Woe, what a pitiful voice this is!” He wanted to ride on, but the wailing became more and more fearful and he decided to see what it might be. He turned to the place where the voice came from, hearing it draw closer and closer, and finally very close to him, yet he could not perceive anything with his eyes. He thought again: “How strange it seemed to me! How can it be that I only hear and yet see nothing?” Then he raised his voice and said aloud: “I command you by God that you tell me what you are!”

Then the voice piteously answered: “Woe is me! I am a poor soul who has barely been without torment for the time it would take one eye to blink, so infinitely great is my agony in purgatory!”
When the pious pope heard this, he shed many tears out of pity and asked the soul if he could help it. The voice, however, replied: “No!”

So, the pope said: “I am profoundly sorry about that. Yet, since God has put so much power into my hands to absolve all kinds of guilt, would it not be possible for me to somehow release you from your torment?”

The voice replied: “This night something was revealed to me, which is the only thing to give me some hope. In Rome there lives a pious man, who has a good wife. She is pregnant with a child, who will become a holy man. He will be called Johannes and will become a priest. And when the priest has said his sixteenth Mass, I, poor soul, shall be delivered from my torment.”

Then the voice told the name of the man and the street where he lived. The pope departed and still heard its piercing, fearful lamentation far, far away, as before.

The pope returned to his retinue, but no one was allowed to ask him where he had been for so long. He rode back to Rome, quite sad and thoughtful, and immediately sent for the married couple described by the poor soul. When they both arrived, he received them amicably and said: “I know that you will have a child, and now I beg you both to let me know as soon as the child is born. I will baptise him and take care of the child. In the future I will always act as a father to him.”

The good couple were very pleased, and both thanked him from the bottom of their hearts. Then he gave them his blessing and gave them leave to go.

As soon as the child was born, they reported it to the pope, who was very happy about it, because he often looked back on the agony of that poor soul and wished its salvation with all his heart. The child was named Johannes and the pope took him to court with his nurse. There, he took great care of him, because he enjoyed observing him grow up.

When he was seven years old, he was allowed to go to school, but the boy was slower in understanding than all his classmates, and often had to endure much mockery and scorn because of this. This hurt him terribly; he went to church every day, where he knelt down before the painting of the Virgin Mary and, crying hot tears, earnestly begged her for help.

One day he was praying like this in front of the painting. He wrung his small hands, wept bitter tears and implored the Holy Virgin with the deepest devotion and the most moving words not to deny him her help, and to have mercy on him, so that he would learn better in the future and would no longer have to endure the reprimands of his teachers and the contempt of his classmates. Then Mary's fair lips moved, and a heavenly sweet voice spoke to him: “Come up to me and kiss me on the mouth and new life will come into you. The ray of all knowledge will dawn in your soul and you will be more learned than anyone on Earth.”

The boy was very frightened when he heard these words, a shudder went through him and he dared not do what she commanded him. But the Mother of God told him kindly once again: “Come to me with confidence, I will give you my guidance!”

As he was still hesitating, he saw himself surrounded by a heavenly clarity; a sweetly scented cloud descended on him and lifted him up with gentle, joyful force into the arms of the painting. He was then able to touch the holy mouth of the divine Virgin with his pure, childlike lips and suck all heavenly knowledge out of it. From that moment on, he was blessed with the gift of being able to speak of God and all things with more insight than any of the teachers.

When the boy went back to school wanting to learn, he could do more than all the others put together. The classmates began to laugh and said: “How is it possible that you are suddenly so learned and now able to do more than all of us, when the harshest punishments have never been able to teach you anything before?”

However, when they looked at him, they were astonished to see a fine, golden ring around his mouth, which shone as sweetly as a sparkling star of true, profound brightness. They asked him how it had come to pass, and he told them what had happened to him. Since nobody could understand his great knowledge, from then on, they all began to learn from him. They started to call him Johannes with the golden mouth, because he spoke golden words with golden lips. He wore this ring as long as he lived, as well as the name.

The pope loved Johannes so very much, that when a benefice became vacant, he was pleased to give it to him. Johannes became quite rich and wealthy, but his life was alwaysvery simple, holy and virtuous. When he was sixteen years old, the pope consecrated him as a priest, since he still remembered the poor soul and eagerly wished for its salvation. Thus, as soon as Johannes was consecrated as a priest, he had to prepare immediately to say his first Mass, in accordance with the will of the pope.

Johannes celebrated the Mass with great devotion, but as he sang, serious, sad thoughts came to his mind, which soon pervaded his whole soul. “How dare I”, he thought to himself, “do such a high, holy work and allow myself to be called God's Priest, when I am still so young and have done nothing yet to prove my love for God and make myself more worthy of his service. I should always repent of this! And I am well aware that earthly goods are harmful to the soul, which is why I want to be poor and forsake everything to devote myself completely to God. Yes, this very day I want to leave this place and go to the forest, somewhere quiet and isolated, and stay there as long as I live.”

These were Johannes’ thoughts while celebrating the Mass; he always wished: ah! if only the Mass were already over! and time seemed infinitely long to him. When the Mass ended, the pope and all the others joyfully went to the table. They heartily welcomed the young priest, and everyone ate plenty of all that they could possibly wish for. However, Johannes never ceased thinking about his resolution, and his pious desire to leave everything for love grew with every moment. As soon as the meal was over, he quietly stole away from them, put on bad clothes which made him wholly unrecognisable, and headed deep into the forest. The pope and the others soon noticed his absence and were terribly sad to have lost him. They sought him everywhere but could not understand where he might have gone.

The young man made his way far into the forest cutting his own pathways through the undergrowth; he had been walking for several days without food or rest. Then he asked God to take care of him, and soon after heard a small spring rushing under a large, hollow stone. Johannes thought: here shall be your home! The tall trees bent their branches over him, the brook was flowing cheerfully and the birds showed their amusement through the flapping of their wings and the sound of their throats. He built a little monastic-like cell, covered it with grass and bark, kept it safe from the animals and looked around for herbs and roots, from which he eked out a miserable living, until he gradually learnt what kinds of roots and herbs were good and edible. Yet he often looked up to God and served Him day and night with all sorts of religious practices. Nor did he regret his decision at all, and he happily rejoiced in having forsaken all he had to carry it out; indeed, he believed he had won everything and lost nothing.

“Do I not see every night,” he said, “the great blue arc of Heaven above me, studded with golden stars, which act as countless eyes to witness my devotion? All creatures serve me as a bright mirror in which to see the radiant image of the most beautiful and highest being! This small, leaping brook, which so nimbly forges ahead to lose itself in the bosom of the vast sea, tells me with its lovely voice: ‘Notice how you must hasten to sink into the lap of love, into the inexhaustible sea of goodness’. And the merry forest birds, do they not teach me how to praise my Creator from dawn to dusk?

At this time when the young man was living in the forest, there was a very pious emperor who had a wonderful castle, in which his wife and his court servants lived. This castle was not far from the forest where Johannes lived, and one summer’s day the emperor's daughter went into the verdant grounds with several beautiful maidens to enjoy the fresh flowers and lovely green trees and to amuse themselves playing innocent games. Unexpectedly, a storm arose with such violence that the maidens began to be filled with dread. The impetuous whirlwind grabbed the emperor's daughter and carried her away, in view of all her friends, so high up in the air that they had no idea where she had gone. The maidens were so dismayed that they did not know what to say to the emperor. As they returned to the castle, they told the tragic and extraordinary story, causing great sorrow to the emperor, his wife and the whole court.

The heavy gale took the young lady far away in its jocular cloak, until it finally lowered its wings and gently put her down by the hollow stone where St. Johannes' cell was, so that no harm would be done to her. The beautiful young lady stood there alone, wearing a crown and a magnificent robe, wondering where to go. She wrung her delicate hands and tears fell from her bright eyes into the clear water, which stopped its merry song and slowed its rippling, while the curious forest birds flew, astonished, to look upon the marvellous scene. Then the young lady noticed Johannes' cell, looked inside and saw the young man lying on the ground and praying, as he often did. She was very delighted and cried out in a loud voice: “Dear sir! I beg you to let me into your cell for God's sake!”

Johannes was very frightened; the voice seemed to him as sweet as the voice of the Holy Virgin. He got up, looked around, but his heart was pounding so fast he could not talk or move any further. The maiden called again and tenderly implored him to let her in, but he stayed silent. Then she spoke again: “I see that you are a pious, holy man, and therefore you should have compassion for me, for if I lose my life in this wasteland and am preyed upon by the wild beasts, it would be your fault and you would one day have to give account for my life and suffer punishment for it.”

So, Johannes reached the door, opened it and saw the beautiful maiden with great astonishment. He asked who she was and how she had come here, and she answered him nothing but: “It's God's will, I can tell you nothing more!”

Johannes thought: “If she loses her life here, I will be guilty of it and have to account for it to God”. So he let her into the cell, where it was already starting to dawn. Johannes drew a line with his staff through the cell and said to the young lady: “If you are in this part, I want to be in the other; do not come to me beyond this circle and pray with diligence.”

The young lady answered: “I will do so gladly”, and lay down on the bed; but she hardly slept as her delicate limbs were not used to such a hard bed. When the dawn brightened the dark cell, she thought worriedly: “What will I eat today? The kind man that hosts me has nothing to give me and I will be overcome with grief here and increase his own poverty.” Then, the young man got up from his bed, knelt down and prayed with great devotion; his face was so fresh, cheerful and reviving, like the rays of the early sun. The young lady felt strengthened, stopped worrying and took good courage; she got up too and learned his religious customs.

He asked her if she wanted to go out to eat something together. She was glad to do so and went with him through the high, quiet forest. He taught her to recognise the good herbs and roots, which they ate just to satisfy their hunger. They shared much hardship together, but they loved each other like angels and lived together in great innocence and peace. Their days went by with prayers and devout, humble practices.

The eternal enemy of men envied their felicity and therefore hated them both. He gave them evil advice and kindled a consuming desire in their hearts. Johannes crossed over the sacred circle that he himself had drawn and went to the young lady. He tenderly embraced her, strengthening her love for him, and managed to make her fall into great sin by his will. But they both immediately felt a profound regret and could not console themselves for having offended God. Johannes felt a burning despair in his heart. He thought: “All the good things that I have done through God are meaningless, all of them!” In that moment, he heard the anxious laments of the young lady, which tore his heart to pieces.

Nevertheless, his love always drew him back to the young lady and for several days he desperately struggled to stop himself. Then he thought: “If this maiden were to stay with me for longer, I would commit yet more sins with her”, and so he told her to follow him. The young lady did so. He took her silently into the heart of the forest, where she had never been. There was a large boulder standing all alone and it was as if all the other creatures shied away and tried to flee from it. No grass would stretch its green nets over it, no spring would shoot its silver arrow down to it, no tree’s branches would waft cool air towards it, no bird would sing its lively songs to it.

Johannes led the young lady up onto the high and lonely boulder; he looked at her gravely with terror in his eyes and pushed her down into the depths. Then he went back to his cell but he felt even less holy than before. “Woe is me,” he exclaimed, “I murdered a beautiful and innocent woman! She would have never thought about sin, if I had not led her to it and now I have taken her life as well. Alas! God will take vengeance on me forever for my unfaithfulness and wicked deed!” He then abandoned himself to despair; he left his beloved forest and thought that he would never serve God again as he was not worthy and all was lost.

Yet after a while, a weak hope stirred once more in his heart and he thought: “I will confess.” He went to the pope in Rome, who was his godfather, and confessed his sins to him with great sincerity and repentance.

The pope did not recognise him as, ever since he had kissed the heavenly young lady, the glowing ring which had shone on his mouth before the kiss had gone out and become unnoticeable. He addressed him angrily and said: “Get out of my sight, you behaved maliciously to that woman and yet it was all your fault!” This saddened Johannes greatly, yet he thought: “I do not want to give up on God” and went back to his cell in the forest. He seriously pondered over how to impose on himself a heavy penitence. He thought to himself: “No matter how great my guilt is, God's mercy is greater than anything.” He decided to walk on his hands and feet, like an animal, until he had attained God's mercy, and asked God to mercifully accept his repentance and to give him a sign of his grace, when his guilt was atoned.

From then on, Johannes crawled like an animal of the forest; he walked without standing up for some years. He crawled to look for his food and, when he wanted to rest, he crawled to his cell. His clothes fell away from him and his body became so disfigured and terrible to look at that no one could have identified him as a human being. Fifteen years went by since he had been in the forest, and meanwhile the empress, whose daughter was taken away by the wind, was blessed with another child. When the child was to be baptised, the emperor sent for the pope and many bishops. The pope, the bishops and a large entourage went to the baptism and the pope took the child into his arms. Yet, the child said: “I do not want to be baptised by you.”

The pope replied: “Make thy will known unto me, whether I should baptise you” and the child repeated again: “I do not want to be baptised by you!” Then, the pope was very frightened and said: “Now everyone hear, this child has expressed its will itself, what does this strange creature mean?” Then, he asked the child a third time and the child said: “I want to be baptised by St. Johannes, the holy man, and God will soon release him from his torment.”

The pope gave the child back to the nurse, went to the empress and asked who Johannes was, who was meant to baptise the child. Yet nobody knew anything about him.

Afterwards, the emperor ordered the hunter to ride to the forest to catch a deer for his court and for the baptism celebration. The hunter had ridden over a mile when he heard dogs barking. When he rode to them, he saw an animal with a hideous form and which he did not recognise. At first, he backed away and thought: “I would rather ride back empty-handed than face this monster, which could easily tear me apart.” However, when he thought about his master's anger if he were to return empty-handed, he entrusted himself to God's protection and attacked the animal. Yet the animal laid still in front of him; he threw his coat over it and tied its feet together. He was glad that the animal was so tame and tied it behind him on his horse before returning to his master in the castle.

When the hunter arrived at the castle, many people wanted to see the fantastic, hideous animal which he had brought with him, but he hid it from the eyes of those curious people. Then, the nurse came as well with the little child and said: “Show me the animal.” Many knights and women were there too, who wanted to see it. It was driven out of the corner and the newly born child said: “Johannes, my dear sir, I should be baptised by you.”

Johannes replied: “If it is God's will and if your words are true, say it again!”

The child said for the second time: “My dear sir, what are you hesitating for? I want to be baptised by you”.

Then a heavenly fountain of hope burst forth within Johannes' sad mind and he asked God with fervent devotion to tell him through the child's mouth whether he had atoned for his sins.

The child said: “Johannes, you should be happy because God forgave your sins, so stand up and baptise me in the name of God!”

Johannes straightened up from the earth; instantly, all of the terrible aspects of his form fell from him, like an outdated dress, and he stood there with pure and fresh beauty, like a celestial youth. The golden ring on his mouth started shining anew like a faint star. Clothes were brought to him; the pope and the lords all welcomed him, and he baptised the child with great joy and devotion.

Afterwards, the pope asked him to sit down with him and Johannes told him: “Dear Father, do you not know me anymore?” The pope replied: “No”, thus Johannes said: “I am Johannes, whom you once baptised and let go to school. You gave me many benefices and even ordained me as a priest. Yet, when I sang my first Mass, it struck my heart and I thought that it was not fair for me to act like God with my childish hands. So I sneaked away in secret and went to the forest, where I suffered much adversity.”

He told him everything that had happened to him, how it had been with the young lady and everything that had previously confessed to him.

The emperor heard his speech and his heart became heavy as he thought: “Should that lady perhaps have been my unfortunate daughter?” and said: “If only there were someone who could take me to the boulder where the woman lost her life so that we could find her remains and bury them!”

Johannes replied: “If the hunter could take me back to the place where he found me, I could show him the stone.”

The hunter promised to do so and rode with Johannes to the spot in the forest; then Johannes took him to the boulder where they both saw a beautiful woman, lively and in good health, sitting before their eyes. Johannes was amazed and asked her: “Who are you sitting all alone on this boulder?”

She asked him if he did not recognise her and he answered: “No.” She then said: “I am the woman who once came to your cell and you pushed off this stone.”

Johannes asked her: “Who helped you to survive?”

She replied: “God's goodness presided over me such that no harm could befall me!” The woman was beautiful, even more so than she had been before, even her dress was preserved intact; yet she was pale and white like someone who no longer belongs to the Earth.

He was astonished; he told her to go with him and took her to her father and mother. They knew her well; they wept with joy, embraced her and thanked God that they had found their dear daughter again. Then, the emperor asked how she had survived, and she replied: “There is nothing God cannot do. Neither wind, rain, snow, heat nor frost can harm me. The natural elements have made peace with me. I feel neither thirst nor hunger anymore; I will tell you nothing more!”

As long as she lived, she never again wore the colour of life, nor did anyone see her eating earthly food anymore. She did not cry or laugh anymore, but always prayed.

The pope rode home again and said to Johannes: “Dear godson! I want to give the news to your parents that I have found you and that you are well and in good health.” He then sent his servant with the news to them, which they were greatly pleased by. They set out to meet him and embraced him with great joy.

Afterwards, the pope asked him how many Masses he had held. When he heard that it was only one, he complained loudly and shouted: “Oh, woe! Poor soul that had to suffer such great pain and for so long!” Johannes asked him what he meant by that speech. The pope told him how wretchedly he had once heard a soul crying in the forest and how it said to him that Johannes would relieve it from its pain as soon as he had sung his sixteenth Mass. The pope explained this was why he had ordained him so early for priesthood, so that the poor soul, whose great cry of pain he could never forget, would soon be helped.

Johannes said: “Father! I shall gladly do what you want me to.”

Thereupon, he held Masses every day and prayed earnestly for the poor soul and when the sixteenth Mass was over, the soul was released from all of its torment. Then, the pope made him a bishop and sent him to his diocese. Yet he was very humble and served God with great zeal. The ring on his mouth shone again with great clarity and he preached such sweet words that once again everyone called him Johannes with the golden mouth.

Shortly after that, he was expelled from his diocese and went to a wild and remote area. There, he wrote many sacred words about God and His word. When he ran out of ink, he wrote with his mouth; whatever he said came out in golden letters. That is why he was called Johannes with the golden mouth; finally, he died in a state of blessedness, and was venerated as a saint.


Original Source Text: Von Hammerstein, K., & Brentano-Mereau, S. (1997), 'Johannes mit dem güldnen Mund' in Ein Glück, das kleine Wirklichkeit umspannt: Gedichte und Erzählungen (Deutsche Taschenbuch, 1997)

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