{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_44430/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_44430","id":"gutenberg_44430","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/44430","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - European","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Germany -- Rhine Valley","Mythology, Germanic"],"text":"Produced by David Widger\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMYTHS OF THE RHINE\n\nTranslated from the French of X. B. Saintine\n\nBy Prof. M. Schele De Vere, LL. D.\n\nIllustrated by Gustave Dor\u00e9\n\nScribner, Armstrong, and Company\n\n1874\n\n\n\n\nDESCRIPTIVE TABLE OF CONTENTS.\n\nI.\n\nPrimitive Times.--The First Settlers on the Rhine.--Masters going to\nSchool.--Sanskrit and Breton.--An Idle God.--Microscopic Deities.--Tree\nWorship.--Birth-Trees and Death-Trees.....001\n\nII.\n\nThe Druids and their Creed.--Esus.--The Holy Oak.--The Pforzheim Lime\nTree.--A Rival Plant.--The Mistletoe and the Anguinufh.--The Oracle\nat Do-dona.--Immaculate Horses.--The Druidesses.--A late\nElector.--Philanthropic Institution of Human Sacrifices.--Second\nDruidical. Epoch.....025\n\nIII.\n\nA Visit to the Land of our Forefathers.--The Two Banks of the\nRhine.--Druid Stones.--Weddings and Burials.--Night Service.--A Demigod\nGlacier.--Social Duels.--A Countrywoman of Aspasia.--Boudoir of a Celtic\nLady.--The Bard\u2019s Story.--Teutons and Titans.--Earthquake.....053\n\nIV.\n\nThe Roman Gods invade Germany.--Drusus and the Dru-idess.--Ogmius,\nthe Hercules of Gaul.--Great Philological Discovery concerning\nTent\u00e2tes.--Transformations of every kind.--Irmensul.--The Rhine\ndeified.--The Gods cross the River.--Druids of the Third Epoch.....089\n\nV.\n\nThe World before and since Odin.--Birth of Ymer.--The Giants of the\nFrost.--A Log split in Two.--The First Man and the First Woman.--The\nAsh Ygdrasil and its Menagerie.--Thor\u2019s Three Jewels.--Freyr\u2019s Enchanted\nSword.--A Souvenir of the National Guard of Belleville.--The Story of\nKvasir and the Two Dwarfs.--Honey and Blood.--Invocation.....119\n\nVI.\n\nShort Biographies.--A Clairvoyant among the Gods.--A Bright God.--Tyr\nand the Wolf Fenris.--The Hospital at the Walhalla.--Why was Odin\none-eyed.--The Three Norns.--Mimer the Sage.--A Goddess the Mother\nof Four Oxen.--The Love Affairs of Heimdall--The God with the Golden\nTeeth.....151\n\nVII.\n\nHeaven and Hell.--The Valkyrias.--Amusements in Walhalla.--Pork and Wild\nBoar.--A Frozen Hell.--Balder\u2019s Death.--Frigg\u2019s Devotion.--The Iron Tree\nForest.--The Twilight of the Gods.--Iduna\u2019s Apples.--The Fall of Heaven\nand the End of the World.--Reflections on that Event.--The Little\nFellow still alive.....17\n\nVIII.\n\nHow the Gods of India live only for a Kalpa, that is, for the Time\nbetween one World and another.--How the God Vishnu was One-eyed.--How\nCelts and Scandinavians believed in Metempsychosis, like the\nIndians.--How Odin, with his Emanations, came forth from the God\nBuddha.--About Mahabarata and Ramavana.--Chronology.--The World\u2019s\nAge.--Comparative Tables.--Quotations.--Supporting Evidence.--A\nCenotaph.....209\n\nIX.\n\nConfederation of all the Northern Gods.--Freedom of\nReligion.--Christianity.--Miserere mei!--Homeric Enumeration.--Prussian,\nSlavic, and Finnish Deities.--The God of Cherries and the God of\nBees.--A Silver Woman.--Ilmarinnen\u2019s Wedding Song.--A Skeleton\nGod.--Yaga-Baba\u2019s Pestle and Mortar.--Preparation for Battle.--The\nLittle Chapel on the Hill.--The Signal for the Attack.--Jesus and\nMary.....215\n\nX.\n\nMarietta and the Sweet-briar.--Esus and Jesus.--Amalgam.--A\nNeophyte.--Prohibition to eat Horseflesh.--Bishops in\nArms.--Interruption.--Come Home, my Good Friend!--Prussia and the\nMyths of the Middle Ages.--Tybilinus, the Black God.--The little Blue\nFlower.....243\n\nXI.\n\nElementary Spirits of Air, Fire, and Water.--Sylphs, their Amusements\nand Domestic Arrangements.--Little Queen Mab.--Will-o\u2019-the-\nWisps.--White Elves and Black Elves.--True Causes of Natural\nSomnambulism.--The Wind\u2019s Betrothed.--Fire-damp.--Master\nHaemmerling.--The Last of the Gnomes.....261\n\nXII.\n\nElementary Spirits of the Water.--Petrarch at Cologne.--Divine Judgment\nby Water.--Nixen and Undines.--A Furlough till Ten o\u2019clock.--The\nWhite footed Undine.--Mysteries on the Rhine.--The Court of the Great\nNichus.--Nixcobt, the Messenger of the Dead.--His Funny Tricks.--I go in\nSearch of an Undine.....281\n\nXIII.\n\nFamiliar Spirits.--Butzemann.--The Good Frau Holle.--Kobolds.--A Kobold\nin the Cook\u2019s Employ.--Zot-terais and the Little White Ladies.--The\nKillecroffs, the Devil\u2019s Children.--White Angels.--Granted Wishes, a\nFable.....307\n\nXIV.\n\nGiants and Dwarfs.--Duel between Ephesim and Gromme-lund.--Court Dwarfs\nand Little Dwarfs.--Ymer\u2019s Sons.--The Invisible Reapers.--Story of the\nDwarf Kreiss and the Giant Quadragaat.--How the Giants came to serve the\nDwarfs.....333\n\nXV.\n\nWizards and the Bewitched.--The Journey of Asa-Thor and his\nCompanions.--The Inn with the Five Passages.--Skrymner.--A Lost Glove\nfound again.--Arrival at the Great City of Utgard.--Combat between\nThor and the King\u2019s Nurse.--Frederick Barbarossa and the\nKyffh\u00e2user.--Teutonia! Teutonia!--What became of the Ancient\nGods.--Venus and the good Knight Tannh\u00e2user.--Jupiter on Rabbit\nIsland.--A Modern God.....369\n\nXVI.\n\nWomen as Missionaries, Women as Prophets, Strong Women, and Serpent\nWomen.--Children\u2019s Myths.--Godmothers.--Fairies.--The Magic Wand and the\nBroomstick.--The Lady of Kynast.--The World of the Dead, the World of\nGhosts, and the World of Shadows.--Myths of Animals.....397\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n   Father Rhine....................................................003\n\n   The impassive historian ........................................004\n\n   Vast forests as old as the world ...............................005\n\n   The first pioneers..............................................007\n\n   The Celts were a people from India..............................009\n\n   What happy people scholars are..................................010\n\n   A horrible custom...............................................019\n\n   Dead man\u2019s trees................................................022\n\n   The Druids now appear for the first time in Germany.............023\n\n   Their creed must be judged by their rites.......................027\n\n   The other chieftains were generally polygamists.................031\n\n   Courts of justice were always held under an elm tree............032\n\n   Attempt to murder the mayor ....................................033\n\n   Mistletoe an officinal and sacred plant.........................035\n\n   Gauls...........................................................037\n\n   Serpents\u2019 knots.................................................039\n\n   Prophetic trembling and neighing................................041\n\n   A Druid teacher ................................................044\n\n   The Germans were in full flight ................................046\n\n   The bloody knife of the Druids .................................052\n\n   I turn my steps from the sacred precincts.......................055\n\n   Who are these other soldiers?...................................057\n\n   These laborers seem to suffer from some restraint...............058\n\n   I look around for a resting-place ..............................059\n\n   A shepherd......................................................060\n\n   The guard of a sword, which had been driven into the ground.....061\n\n   The shepherd,--as mournful as ever..............................063\n\n   Herds of swine are wallowing ...................................066\n\n   A young wife bearing the burden of united household.............067\n\n   Happiness consists in the fulfillment of duty ..................068\n\n   Such were the ways of our fathers: rejoice in facing death......069\n\n   The Druidical altars............................................070\n\n   As there is no window I peep through the trap-door..............072\n\n   One of the chief men of the country ............................075\n\n   She was a young Ionian girl, a country-woman of Aspasia.........080\n\n   The boudoir of a Celtic lady....................................082\n\n   The Druid-bard..................................................085\n\n   Death of Druids.................................................091\n\n   A Druidess endowed with the gift of prophecy ...................093\n\n   The victorious march of the Romans .............................094\n\n   Her deities personified nothing but vices ......................096\n\n   The Hercules--so called.........................................098\n\n   Mercury, the son of Jupiter ....................................099\n\n   \u201cO Varus, Varus, bring me back my legions!\u201d.....................103\n\n   Perhaps the old river remembered his grievances.................105\n\n   They made him a king, the King of German rivers.................106\n\n   He had already allowed Jupiter to cross.........................107\n\n   The vines began to adorn the banks of the river.................108\n\n   Once more caresses had their hoped-for effect...................109\n\n   He did his best to help everybody across........................110\n\n   Fnvolous and ill-mannered deities...............................110\n\n   The dauntless pirates will end by wearing white night-caps......113\n\n   The great Northern Tempest .....................................115\n\n   The German Druids gave way......................................118\n\n   Iormungondur, the great sea serpent.............................121\n\n   The giant Ymer has been born....................................123\n\n   The first men had been born with a telescope in their pocket?...127\n\n   Ymer was the first to succumb...................................128\n\n   After the giants came the turn of land and sea monsters.........129\n\n   The new creation was assuming a more pleasing appearance........132\n\n   Deer, eland, and aurochs were bounding in herds.................133\n\n   Incessantly a tiny squirrel comes and goes......................136\n\n   A vulture perching upon the loftiest top of the sacred tree.....137\n\n   Thor\u2019s weighty hammer Mjo\u00efner...................................139\n\n   The good Freyr seated at Odin\u2019s table...........................141\n\n   Portrait of Freyr...............................................142\n\n   Bragi and the beautiful Freya ..................................147\n\n   Return of the eagle with the three precious vessels.............150\n\n   Balder, the bright god..........................................153\n\n   The wolf Fenris.................................................156\n\n   Converse with each other by significative glances...............159\n\n   They were the Norns.............................................160\n\n   He took counsel with the Norns..................................162\n\n   \u201cTo Egir, the seas and navigation\u201d..............................164\n\n   Gefione took her four sons and changed them into oxen...........165\n\n   Jarl, the noble.................................................171\n\n   The Valkyrias ..................................................175\n\n   Beautiful nymphs of carnage.....................................176\n\n   A very mammoth of a boar........................................180\n\n   Feast in Scandinavian Paradise..................................181\n\n   Hela, the pale goddess..........................................185\n\n   \u201cBalder, fair Balder, is going to die\u201d..........................189\n\n   Loki succeeds in exhilarating even Odin himself.................191\n\n   Balder is amused by the game....................................192\n\n   When the mother told her pitiful tale the iron trees wept.......197\n\n   The three sacred cocks announcing the Twilight of Greatness.....202\n\n   The death of the gods...........................................208\n\n   My VIIIth chapter is thus changed into a cenotaph...............211\n\n   I like to glean a little where scholars have reaped.............214\n\n   The two religions face to face..................................217\n\n   Ovid reciting his \u201cMetamorphoses\u201d...............................219\n\n   Druidic worship suspended by the Romans.........................220\n\n   \u201cMiserere mei, Jesu\u201d............................................222\n\n   Perkunos, Pikollos, and Potrympos...............................224\n\n   Puscatus,--a kind-hearted god ..................................226\n\n   Monstrous reptiles accompany the gods to Germany................227\n\n   He let his heavy mace fall upon a little town...................238\n\n   The blacksmiths of Ilmarinnen...................................239\n\n   Marietta appeared in their midst................................245\n\n   \u201cDo you think I am a man to be taken in ?\u201d......................251\n\n   Horse-head, a la mode...........................................253\n\n   The Undines mingled with the Tritons and the Naiads.............258\n\n   Have transferred their Olympus to the Brocken...................259\n\n   The Olympus of the North........................................263\n\n   Able to see without being seen .................................266\n\n   Dance of the white fairies .....................................269\n\n   The black fairies personify Nightmare ..........................271\n\n   An important personage with a will of his own ..................272\n\n   Enormous toads are posted about.as watchmen.....................279\n\n   Elementary spirits of the water.................................283\n\n   Imaginary music ................................................288\n\n   The nix with the harp ..........................................289\n\n   Schoolmaster\u2019s son who had fallen in love with one of them......291\n\n   He thought he saw a pale form arise from the waters.............294\n\n   He rose suddenly and fled to another room ......................295\n\n   The steward whispered some words in her ear ....................297\n\n   Niord, the Scandinavian god ....................................299\n\n   This creature is Nixcobt........................................300\n\n   The Vintner is hanged, and Nixcobt laughs heartily..............302\n\n   Four Prussian soldiers watching the water ......................305\n\n   The Zotterais protected sheep ..................................309\n\n   The master has nothing to do....................................315\n\n   Prefer to remember the Kobold a cheerful household companion....317\n\n   The Zotterais as fond of stables as the Kobolds of kitchens.....319\n\n   They are naturally easily tired ................................321\n\n   The Killecroffs are children of the Devil ......................322\n\n   His nurse has to be reinforced by two goats and a cow...........324\n\n   The great Reformer, Dr. Martin Luther ..........................326\n\n   The fall of Killecroff .........................................331\n\n   Giants and dwarfs...............................................335\n\n   The last of the giants..........................................337\n\n   Grommelund and Ephesim .........................................339\n\n   The humiliated giant............................................340\n\n   Our good little dwarfs .........................................341\n\n   He stood at first with his mouth wide open .................... 346\n\n   A long and deep sigh of satisfaction............................348\n\n   Flight of the conspirators......................................353\n\n   Kreiss slipped boldly into this vast and spacious cavity........354\n\n   They fixed strong piles between the two rows of teeth...........355\n\n   In his hand he held not a club but a lantern....................357\n\n   Kreiss compelled to leave his position by torrents of tears.....359\n\n   The last two held each a long thorn in their hands..............361\n\n   Kreiss entering the great meeting hall..........................363\n\n   Putskuchen was in love..........................................365\n\n   Ouadragant vanquished...........................................367\n\n   The passing of the wizard ......................................371\n\n   Venus and Tannh\u00e0user............................................390\n\n   His ex-colleague Jupiter .......................................396\n\n   The author pursues the subject .................................399\n\n   The conscientious collector of myths............................401\n\n   The Druidess transformed into an accursed witch.................406\n\n   To return was as impossible as to proceed.......................409\n\n   She had rejoined her victims ...................................413\n\n   He is the Lord Hackelberg.......................................417\n\n   These ghosts can imitate all the motions of men.................421\n\n   Farewell........................................................423\n\n\n\n[Illustration: 023]\n\n\n\n\nI.\n\n{003}_Primitive Times.--The First Settlers on the Rhine.--Masters\ngoing to School.--Sanskrit and Breton.--Ax Idle God.--Microscopic\nDeities.--Tree Worship.--Birth-Trees and Death-Trees._ The Rhine is born\nin Switzerland, in the Canton of Grisons; it skirts France and passes\nthrough it, and after a long and magnificent career it finally loses\nitself in the countless canals of Holland; and yet the Rhine is\nessentially a German river.\n\n{004}Already in the earliest ages, long before towns were built on its\nbanks, it saw all the Germanic races dwell here in tents, watch their\nflocks, and fight their interminable battles, although the clash of\narms and the blast of trumpets never for a moment aroused the impassive\nhistorian from his deep slumbers.\n\n[Illustration: 024]\n\nHis silence, long continued into later centuries, does not prevent us\nfrom supposing, however, that the Rhine was already at that time the\ngreat high-{005}road on which the Germanic races wandered to and fro,\nand other races came to their native land. It was the Rhine that brought\nto them commerce and civilization; but on the Rhine came also invasions\nof a very different kind. We can allude here only to those religious\ninvasions which are connected with our subject.\n\n[Illustration: 025]\n\nIn the earliest ages the South of Europe alone was inhabited, while the\nNorthern part was covered with vast forests, as old as the world, and as\nyet{006}unbroken by the footsteps of men. Dark, dismal solitudes,\nconsisting of ancient woods or wretched morasses, where trees struggled\npainfully for existence and only the strongest survived when they\nreached the light and the sun; densely wooded deserts, in which vast\nherds of wild beasts pursued each other incessantly, while in the deep\nshadow of impenetrable foliage flocks of timid, trembling birds sought\na refuge against hosts of voracious birds of prey. Thus, even while Man\nwas yet absent, War was already reigning supreme here, and in these vast\nregions the Great Destroyer seemed to revel in it, as if it had been a\nfeast, a necessity, a glory!\n\nHad never human eye yet looked upon these magnificent but unknown\nregions?\n\nThen, one fine day a host of savages appeared here and settled down with\ntheir flocks. After them came another host of more warlike and better\narmed men, who drove out the first comers and took possession of the\ntilled ground.\n\nAfter them another race, and then still another. Thus it went on for\nyears and for centuries, and all these waves of immigration came down\nfrom the extreme North, marking each halting place by a bloody battle,\nwhile the conquered people, driven by the sharp edge of the sword to\nseek new homes, by turns pursued and pursuing, went and peopled those\nwild unsettled countries which afterwards be{007}came known as Belgium\nand France, as Bretagne and England. Continuing their march from thence\nsouthward, from the Rhine to the Mediterranean, they spread right and\nleft, east and west, and crossed the Pyrenees and the Alps, making\nthemselves masters on one side of Iberia, and on the other side of the\nplains of Lombardy, thus changing from fugitives into conquerors.\n\n[Illustration: 027]\n\nThese conquered conquerors, driven from their own homes, and now driving\nother nations from their homes, these first pioneers who laid open one\nunknown country after another, were all children of one great family and\nall bore the same name of _Celts_.\n\nBut where was the first source from which this {008}flood of families,\nof peoples, of nations, broke forth, that now overflowed Europe and in\nsuccessive waves spread over the greater part of the Old World? Whence\ncame these vast multitudes of Northern visitors, unexpected and unknown,\nwho broke the mournful silence that had so long reigned in Europe? Were\nthe frozen regions of the North pole, at that early time, really so\nfertile in men? We call upon men of science to answer our question. The\nquestion is a serious one, perhaps an indiscreet one, for who can\nbe appealed to on such a difficult point? History? It did not exist.\nMonuments, written or sculptured? The Celts had never dreamt yet of\nwritings or of carvings. Does this universal silence put it out of the\npower of our learned men to give a reply? Must they confess that they\nare unable to do so? By no means. Learned men never condescend to make\nsuch confessions. The Celts have left as a monument, a language, a\ndialect, still largely used in certain parts of ancient Bretagne as well\nas in the Principality of Wales.\n\nIllustrious academicians, mostly Germans, did not hesitate to go to\nschool once more in order to learn Breton. The self-denial of which\nscience is capable, deserves our admiration.\n\nAfter long labors, devoted to the separation of what belonged to the\nprimitive language from subsequent additions, our great scholars found\nthem{009}selves once more face to face with Sanskrit, the sacred idiom\nof the Brahmins, the ancestor of the old German tongue, and of the old\nCeltic tongue, and thus of the Breton.\n\n[Illustration: 029]\n\nThe matter was decided, scientifically and categorically, and no appeal\nallowed. The Celts were a people from India. Europeans are all descended\nfrom Indians, driven from home by some powerful pressure, a political or\nreligious revolution, or one of those fearful famines which periodically\ndevastate {010}that immense and inexhaustible storehouse of nations.\n\n[Illustration: 030]\n\nAt first, we good people, artists, poets, or authors, who generally\nclaim to possess some little knowledge, were rather surprised at such\na decision. But the wise men had said so; Bengal and Bretagne had to\nfraternize; the Brahmins of Benares speak Breton and the Bretons of\nBretagne speak Sanskrit. Bretagne is Indian and India is Breton.\n\nComparative Philology has taught the children of our day, that two\nsyllables which are identical {011}in the idioms of two different races,\nprove the connection between two nations; hybridism means kinship.\n\nWhat happy people scholars are! They can converse with people who have\nbeen dead these three thousand years, and the grave has no secrets for\nthem! A single word bequeathed to us by an extinct people, enables them\nto reconstruct that whole race.\n\nBut I am bound to ask them another question, a question of much greater\nimportance to myself. What were the religious convictions of these first\ninhabitants of Europe? I am answered by Mr. Simon Pelloutier, a minister\nof the Reformed Church in Berlin, of French descent, who has studied the\nprimitive creed of the Celts most thoroughly and successfully. He tells\nus that these people, before they had Druids, worshipped, or rather held\nin honor the sun, the moon, and the stars, a kind of Sabaism, which,\nhowever, did not exclude the belief in a God, who was the creator, but\nnot the ruler, of all things.\n\nThis god appears to me to have been very imperfect; he was heavy,\nsleepy, and shapeless, having neither eyes to see nor ears to hear; he\nwas incapable of feeling pity or anger, and the prayers and vows of men\nwere unable to reach him. Invisible, intangible, and incomprehensible,\nhe was floating in space, which he filled, and which he {012}animated\nwithout bestowing a thought upon it; omnipotent and yet utterly\ninactive, creating islands and continents, and causing the sun and the\nstars to give light by his mere approach, this divine idler had created\nthe world, but declined taking the trouble of governing his creation.\n\nTo whom had he confided the control over the stars in heaven? Mr.\nPelloutier himself never could find out. As to the government of the\nearth, he had entrusted it to an infinite number of inferior deities,\ngods and sub-gods, of very small stature. They were as shapeless and as\ninvisible as he was, but vastly more active, and endowed with all the\nenergy which he had disdained to bestow upon himself. By their numbers\nand by their collective force they made up for their individual\nfeebleness--and they must have been feeble indeed, since their extremely\nsmall size permitted a thousand of them to find a comfortable shelter\nunder the leaf of a walnut tree!\n\nBesides, they presided over the different departments which were\nassigned to them, not by hundreds, but by myriads, nay, by millions\nof myriads. Thus they rushed forth in vast hosts, stirring the air in\nlively currents, causing the rivers and brooks to flow onwards, watching\nover fields and forests, penetrating the soil to great depths, creeping\nin through every crack and crevice, and breaking out {013}again through\nthe craters of volcanoes. They formed a belt from the Rhine to the\nTaunus mountains, dazzling the whole region for a moment by a shower of\nsparks, and falling back upon the plain in the form of columns of black\nsmoke.\n\nScience has, moreover, established this incontestable principle, that\nmotion can only be produced in two ways here, below: either by the acts\nof living beings, or by the contact of these microscopic deities.\n\nWhenever the waters rose or broke forth in cataracts, whenever the\nleaves trembled in the wind, or the flowers bent before a storm, it was\nthese diminutive gods who, invisible and yet ever active, forced the\nwaters to come down in torrents, drove the tempest through the branches,\nbent the flowers down to the ground, and chased the dust of the\nhighroads in lofty columns up to the clouds. It was they who caused the\ngolden hair of the maid to fall down upon her shoulders as she went to\nthe well, who shook the earthenware pitcher she carried on her shoulder,\nwho crackled in the fire on the hearth, and who roared in the storm, or\nthe eruptions of fiery mountains.\n\nWhen I think of this little world of tiny insect gods, who passed\nthrough the air in swarms, coming and going, turning to the left and to\nthe right, struggling and striving above and beneath (I ask {014}their\npardon for comparing these deities to humble insects, born in the\nmud and subject to infirmity and death like ourselves), I cannot help\nthinking of the beautiful lines by Lamartine, in which he so graphically\ndescribes life in Nature.\n\n     \u201cChaque fois que nos yeux, p\u00e9n\u00e9trant dans ces ombres,\n     De la nuit des rameaux \u00e9clairaient les dais sombres,\n     Nous trouvions sous ces lits de feuille o\u00f9 dort l\u2019\u00e9t\u00e9,\n     Des myst\u00e8res d\u2019amour et de f\u00e9condit\u00e9.\n\n     Chaque fois que nos pieds tombaient dans la verdure\n     Les herbes nous montaient jusques \u00e0 la ceinture,\n     Des flots d\u2019air embaum\u00e9 se r\u00e9pandaient sur nous,\n     Des nuages ail\u00e9s partaient de nos genoux;\n     Insectes, papillons, essaims nageants de mouches,\n     Oui d\u2019un \u00e9ther vivant semblaient former les couches,\n     Ils\u2019 montaient en colonne, en tourbillon flottant,\n     Comblaient l\u2019air, nous cachaient l\u2019un \u00e0 l\u2019autre un instant,\n     Comme dans les chemins la vague de poussi\u00e8re\n     Se l\u00e8ve sous les pas et retombe en arri\u00e8re.\n\n     Ils roulaient; et sur l\u2019eau, sur les pr\u00e9s, sur le foin,\n     Ces poussi\u00e8res de vie allaient tomber plus loin;\n     Et chacune semblait, d\u2019existence ravie,\n     Epuiser le bonheur dans sa goutte de vie,\n     Et l\u2019air qu\u2019ils animaient de leurs fr\u00e9missements\n     N\u2019\u00e9tait que m\u00e9lodie et que bourdonnements.\u201d\n\nSuch were the gods known to the first ingenuous dwellers on the banks\nof the Rhine--gods worthy of a society but just beginning. And still, I\nventure to make a suggestion, which Mr. Simon Pelloutier, my guide up to\nthis point, has unfortunately neglected to make. It is this: I feel as\nif {015}there was hidden beneath this primitive and apparently puerile\nmythology a hideous monster, writhing in fearful threatenings and bitter\nmockery. This god Chaos, so careless and reckless, gifted with the power\nof creation but not with love for his work, seems to me nothing else\nbut Matter, organizing itself. I have called these countless inferior\ndeities microscopic. I should have called them molecular, for they are\natoms, the monads of our science. There is evidently here a germ, not\nof a religious creed so much as of a philosophic system, a shadow of\nthe materialism of a former civilization that is now degraded and nearly\nlost.\n\nAt first I doubted the correctness of the opinions of our learned men;\nbut I begin to believe in them; yes, these early Celts had come, to us\nfrom distant India, from that ancient, decayed country, and in their\nknapsacks they had brought with them, by an accident, this fragment\nof their symbolic cosmogony, the sad meaning of which was, no doubt, a\nmystery to them also.\n\nAfter some years, perhaps after some centuries, --for time does not\ncount for much in those questions,--the Celts became weary of this\nselfish Deity, which was lost in the contemplation of its own being and\ndwelt in the centre of a cold and empty heaven, and they desired to\nestablish some relations between him and themselves. Unable to appeal to\n{016}the Creator, they appealed to Creation, and asked for a mediator,\nwho should hear their complaints or accept their thank-offerings and\ntransmit them to the Supreme Power.\n\nWe have already seen that they turned first to sun and moon; but they\nwere ill rewarded for their efforts. These heavenly bodies were either\ntoo far removed from their clients to hear their complaints, or they\nwere too busy with their own daily duties; at all events they shared\nwith their common master in his indifference towards men.\n\nOur pious friends were offended by this want of consideration, and\nthought of looking for other intercessors, who might be less busy; whom\nthey might not only see with their eyes but touch with their hands,\nand who would remain as much as possible in the same place, so as to be\nalways on hand when they were needed.\n\nThey appealed to rivers and mountains; but the rivers had nothing\npermanent but their banks, and went their way like the sun and moon;\nwhile the mountains, besides being the home of wolves, bears, and\nserpents, and thus enjoying an evil reputation, were continually hid by\nsnow and rain from the eyes of the petitioners.\n\nAt last they turned to the trees, and as it always happens, they now\nfound out that they ought to have commenced where they ended. {017}A\ntree was an excellent mediator; standing between heaven and earth, it\nclung to the latter by its roots, while its trunk, shaped like an arrow,\nfeathered with verdure, rose upwards as if to touch the sky.\n\nThe worship of trees was probably the first effect of sedentary life\nadopted by the Celts after their long, more or less forced wanderings;\nin a few years it prevailed on both sides of the river Rhine.\n\nThere was no lack of trees; every man had his own. As he could not carry\nit away with him, he became accustomed to live by its side.\n\nMan could lean his hut against the trunk; the flock could sleep in its\nshade.\n\nThe birds came to it in numbers. If they were singing, it was a sign of\njoy to come; if they built their nests there, it was an invitation to\nmarry.\n\nThe fruit-bearing tree suggested comfort, abundance, and enjoyment; it\nspoke of harvest feasts and cider-making, when friends gathered around\nit, holding in their hands large horns filled to overflowing with\nfoaming drink.\n\nSoon it became customary to plant at the birth of a child a tree which\nwas to become a companion and a counsellor for life.\n\nThus in the course of time a copse represented a family.\n\nThe worship bestowed upon the tree consisted {018}in pruning it, in\nmaking it grow straight, in freeing its bark from parasitical growth\nand in keeping the roots free from ants, rats, snakes and all dangerous\nenemies. Such continuous care naturally led in the course of time to an\nimprovement in cultivation.\n\nThe tree worshippers, however, did more than this. On certain hallowed\ndays they hung bouquets of herbs and of flowers on its branches, they\nbrought food and drink, and thus fetichism crept in gradually. Alas!\nThat men have never been able to keep from extremes!\n\nWhen the wind whispered in the leaves, the devout owner listened\nattentively, trying anxiously to interpret the mystic language of his\ncedar or his pear tree, and often a regular conversation ensued.\n\nIt was a bad omen when a rising storm shook the tree fiercely; if the\ntempest was strong enough to break a branch, the event foretold a great\ncalamity, and if it was struck by lightning, the owner was warned of\nhis approaching death. The latter was resigned; he felt quite proud\nat having at last compelled his indolent god to reveal himself to his\ndevout worshipper.\n\nWhen a child died, it was buried under its own tree, a mere sapling..\nBut it was not so when a man died.{019}\n\n[Illustration: 039]\n\nThe Celts used various and strange means for the purpose of disposing of\nthe remains of their {021}deceased friends. In some countries they were\nburnt, and their own tree furnished the fuel for the funeral pile; in\nother countries the _Todtenbaum_ (Tree of the Dead), hollowed out with\nan axe, became the owner\u2019s coffin. This coffin was interred, unless\nit was intrusted to the current of the river, to be carried God knows\nwhere! Finally, in certain localities there existed a custom--a horrible\ncustom!--of exposing the body to the voracity of birds of prey, and the\nplace of exposure was the top of the very tree which had been planted at\nthe birth of the deceased, and which in this case, quite exceptionally,\nwas not cut down.\n\nNow, observe, that in these four distinct methods by which human remains\nwere restored to the four elements of air and water, earth and fire, we\nmeet again the four favorite ways of burial still practiced in India,\nas of old, by the followers of Brahma, Buddha, and Zoroaster. The\nfire-worshippers of Bombay are as familiar with them as the dervishes\nwho drown children in the Ganges. Thus we have here four proofs, instead\nof one, of the Indian origin of our Celts. For my part at least, I\nconfess I am convinced by this quadruple evidence.\n\nIt is to be presumed that the use of Dead Men\u2019s Trees and of posthumous\ndrownings continued for centuries in ancient Gaul as well as in ancient\nGermany. About 1560 some Dutch laborers found, {022}in examining a part\nof the Zuyder Zee, at a great depth, several trunks of trees which\nwere marvelously well preserved and nearly petrified. Each one of these\ntrunks had been occupied by a man, and contained some half-petrified\nfragments. It was evident that they had been carried down, trunk and\nman, by the Rhine, the Ganges of Germany.\n\n[Illustration: 042]\n\nAs recently as 1837 such _Todtenbaume_ or Dead Men\u2019s Trees, well\npreserved by the peculiar nature of the soil, have been discovered in\nEngland, near Solby in Yorkshire, and still more recently, in 1848, on\nMount Lupfen in the Grand Duchy of Baden.\n\nIn face of such well authenticated evidence of Dead Men\u2019s Trees having\nbeen confided to the current of rivers or the bosom of the earth, it\nseems superfluous to ask for additional proof in support of the fact\nthat cremation was practiced all over ancient Europe. Nor do I consider\nmyself, as a collector of myths, bound to prove everything. I {023}do\nnot mean to speak, therefore, any further of Birthday Trees, of Dead\nMen\u2019s Trees, and of Fetich Trees,--which we shall moreover meet again\npresently,--and hasten on to other myths of far greater importance.\n\nThe Druids now appear for the first time in Gaul and in Germany.\n\n[Illustration: 043]\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\n{027}_The Druids and their Creed.--Esus.--The Holy Oak.--The Pforzheim\nLime Tree.--A Rival Plant.--The Mistletoe and the Ansfuinum.--The\nOracle at Dodona.--Immaculate Horses.--The Druidesses.--A late\nElector.--Philanthropic Institution of Human Sacrifices.--Second\nDruidical Epoch_.\n\nThe Druids were the first to bring to the Gauls as well as to the\nGermans religious truths, but their creed can be appreciated from no\ndogma of theirs; it must be judged by their rites.\n\nThe first question is: Whence did the Druids {028}come? Were they\ndisciples of the Magi, and did they come from Persia? Such an origin has\nbeen claimed for them: or had they been initiated by Isis in her\nancient mysteries, and did they come from Egypt? This view also has its\nadherents. Or, finally, had they been driven towards Western Europe\nby one of the last waves of immigration, which left India under the\npressure of some new calamity? Many think so.\n\nAs it seems to be difficult to decide between these three suggestions,\nit might be worth while to try and reconcile them with each other. It is\na long way from India to Germany and to Gaul, and there might have been\nmany stopping places between the country from which they started and\ntheir future home.\n\nThe Druids, like all other Celts, might very well have started from\nIndia, and choosing not the most direct way might have reached Europe\nonly after making many a long halt in Persia and in Egypt.\n\n\u2018If that can be admitted, then there is no difficulty in assuming that\nthe first Celts might very well have taken with them from the banks of\nthe Indus and the Ganges only a few fragments of a sickly materialism\ntaught by false teachers outside of the temple, while the Druids might\nhave been initiated within the temple itself, thus learning to know the\ntrue nature of the Deity.\n\nTheir creed was founded upon a triple basis--one {029}God; the\nimmortality of the soul; and rewards and punishments in a future life.\n\nThese sound doctrines, which are as old as the world and form the\nfoundation of all human morality, had ever been maintained by their wise\nmen.\n\nAt a later period the Greeks, proud as they were of their Platonic\nphilosophy, had not hesitated to acknowledge that they had obtained the\nfirst germ of it from the Celts, the Galati, and consequently from the\nDruids. One of the Fathers of the Church, Clement of Alexandria, openly\nadmits that these same Celts had been orthodox in their religion, at\nleast as far as their dogmas were concerned.\n\nBy what name was the Supreme Being known to the Druids? They called it\n_Esus_, which means the Lord, or they gave it the simple designation\nof _Teut_ (God). Through this Teut the German races became afterwards\nTeutons, the sons and followers of Teut, and even in our day they call\nthemselves in their own language Teutsche or _Deutsche_.\n\nThree marvelously brief maxims contain almost the whole catechism of the\nDruids: Serve God; Abstain from evil; Be brave!\n\nThe Druids, being warriors as well as priests, displayed in the\nperformance of their warlike priesthood all the energy, the severity,\nand the authority which must needs accompany such a strange combination\nof powers. {030}Holding all the power of the state in their hands, and\nspeaking in the name of God, commanding the army, controlling the public\ntreasury, and acting not only as judges but also as physicians, they\npunished heresy and rebellion, and ended lawsuits as well as diseases,\nby the death of the person most interested.\n\nTheir laws, liberal and philanthropic in spite of their apparent\nseverity, allowed a jury consisting of notables, to judge grave\ncrimes; this fact of a jury suggests naturally the idea of extenuating\ncircumstances, and thus the criminal, escaping more readily than\nthe patient, frequently got off with a fine, if he was rich, or with\nbanishment if he was poor.\n\nNevertheless all the efforts of the Druids did not succeed in thoroughly\neradicating Tree worship; they were thus led to adopt one tree, to the\nexclusion of all others, which should rally around it the scattered\nadoration of all the nations. This official tree, a kind of green altar,\non which God manifested himself to his priests, was an oak, a strong,\nvigorous oak, the king of the forests.\n\nThus the holy oak became known and honored; pious worshippers came by\nnight, with torches in their hands, in long processions to present their\nofferings.\n\nThis usage soon became general among all Celtic nations. Around these\noaks the Druids formed sacred precincts within which they lived with\ntheir families, for they were married; but they could have {031}only one\nwife, while the other chieftains were generally polygamists.\n\n[Illustration: 051]\n\nBut the oak, although thus enjoying preeminence over all other trees,\nwas by no means exclusively worshipped everywhere. Perhaps from\nreligious antagonism, or perhaps merely from local usage, some\nprovinces of Gaul and of Italy preferred the beech and the elm. In Gaul\nespecially, the elm prevailed over the oak, and even Christian France\nstill continued for a long time to plant an elm tree before every newly\nbuilt church, so as to draw God\u2019s blessing the more surely upon it; and\ndown to the end of the Middle Ages courts of justice were always held\nunder an elm tree. Hence the curious {032}French proverb, which did not\nalways have the mocking sense in which it is used nowadays, wait for\nme under the elm tree! (Attendez-moi sous forme) What was then a\nformal summons to appear before a judge has now come to mean: Wait till\ndoomsday.\n\n[Illustration: 052]\n\nThe ash tree, also, had its worshippers among the dwellers in high\nnorthern latitudes, and it was under the dense branches of an enormous\nash tree that terrible Odin and his following of deities appeared in a\ndark cloud.\n\nThus Tree worship appeared once more. It has ever since continued to\nflourish more or less in Germany, and even now exists to a certain\nextent. But it is not the oaks, nor the beech, nor the elm, nor the ash\ntree, which in our day receives the worship of the young especially--but\nthe lime tree. The admirers of the lime tree carry their fervor to\nfanaticism and their fanaticism to murder. I had {033}been unwilling to\nbelieve this.\n\n[Illustration: 053]\n\nBut this morning I opened my newspaper and there I found an article,\ndated December 30, 1860, and stating that a young man from Pforzheim, in\nthe Palatinate, attempted to murder the mayor of his town by means of\na revolver, the four barrels of which were loaded with as many leaden\nballs. When he was arrested, he declared that he had personally nothing\nto say against the burgomaster, but that the latter {034}had recently\nordered certain lime trees to be cut down, that _the good people of\nPforzheim idolized these trees_, and that he had determined to punish\nhim for such profanation.\n\nThe paper added: \u201cThis young man belongs to an honorable family, his\nantecedents are excellent, and he has never shown the slightest symptom\nof mental derangement.\u201d\n\nHow, then does it come about that the lime tree should in our day, in\nthe nineteenth century, call forth sentiments of such extreme violence?\nThe reason is that Young Germany has proclaimed it to be the Tree of\nLove, because _its leaves are shaped like hearts_.\n\nIf I were not afraid of getting myself into trouble, having a natural\nhorror of all firearms, and especially of four barrelled revolvers,\nI should mention here, that anatomists protest against this pretended\nresemblance of the leaf to the heart. In reality it looks much more\nlike the ace of hearts, as it terminates below in a sharp point--but\nsuperstition prevails over anatomy, and teaches us once more that\nscience ought not to meddle with things pertaining to love.\n\nThe Druids\u2019 Oak, although less tempting to gallant comparisons, finally\nexcited almost equal fanaticism. Processions and sacrifices became\nwell nigh endless; young maidens adorned it with garlands of flowers,\n{035}interspersed with bracelets and necklaces, while warriors suspended\nin its branches the most precious spoil they brought home from their\nbattles. If a storm arose, the other trees of the forest seemed in good\nfaith, humbly to bow down before their chief.\n\n[Illustration: 055]\n\nAnd yet it had an enemy, a fierce, relentless enemy. An abject, little\nplant, unknown and miserable in appearance, came unceremoniously and\nmade its home on its sacred branches and even on its august summit;\nthere it lived on its life\u2019s blood, feeding on its sap, absorbing its\nsubstance, threatening {036}to impede its natural growth, and finally\ncarrying the impudence so far as to conceal the glossy leaves of the\nnoble godlike tree under its own lustreless and viscous foliage. This\nhostile and impious plant was the Mistletoe, the mistletoe of the oak\n(_Guythil_).\n\nOther people, less intelligent and less sagacious than the Druids, would\nhave freed the tree from this unwelcome and obnoxious visitor, by simply\nclimbing up and cutting off the parasite by means of a pruning bill.\nThis would have been irreverent as well as impolitic. What would the\npeople have thought? The people would most assuredly have reasoned, that\nthe sacred tree had been rendered powerless, being unable to rid itself\nof its vermin.\n\nThe Druids did much better. They treated the mistletoe very much as we,\nin our day, treat a formidable member of the opposition; they gave it a\nplace in the sanctuary. The mistletoe was proclaimed to be an official\nand sacred plant, and became an essential part of their worship. When it\nwas to be detached from the tree, this was not done stealthily and by a\nmean iron bill-hook, but in the presence of all, amid public rejoicings\nand accompanied by solemn chants. The instrument was a golden reaping\nhook, and with it the _Guythil_ was carefully cut off at the base and\ngathered in {037}linen veils. These veils became henceforth sacred, and\nwere not allowed to be used for ordinary purposes.\n\nThe Teutons who lived on the Rhine, obtained from the mistletoe a kind\nof glue, which they looked upon as a panacea against the sterility of\nwomen, the ravages of diseases, the effects of witchcraft,--and also as\na means to catch birds.\n\n[Illustration: 057]\n\nThe Gauls, on the other hand, dried it carefully and put the dust into\npretty little scent-bags, which they presented to each other as New\nYear\u2019s Gifts on the first day of the year. Hence, in t some provinces\nof France, the cry is still heard, \u201cAguilanneuf\u201d (_au gui l\u2019an neuf_),\n\u201cMistletoe for New Year!\u201d\n\nModern science treats mistletoe simply as a purgative, and thus attempts\nto prove that our ancestors showed their affection to each other by\nexchanging presents of violent purgatives.\n\nThe introduction of this parasite plant into the {038}sanctuary became,\nhowever, very soon a public benefit. For the oak-mistletoe obtained ere\nlong considerable commercial value, and at once counterfeiters (for even\nunder the Druids there existed such men) went to work and gathered it\nfrom other trees also, from apple trees and pear trees, from nut trees\nand lime trees, from beeches, elms, and even larches. The consequence\nwas, that owners of orchards as well as owners of forests, rejoiced\nin the trick, at which the Druids discreetly winked; for they took\nadvantage of the lesson.\n\n[Illustration: 058]\n\nAt one time venomous reptiles had become so numerous in the regions\nof the Rhine, that they caused continually serious accidents among the\n{039}people, the majority of whom lived all day long in the open air,\nand did not always sleep under shelter. During their winter sleep, these\nreptiles rolled themselves up into vast balls, and became apparently\nglued to each other by a kind of viscous ooze. In this state they were\ncalled by the Celts _Serpents Eggs_, or rather _Serpents\u2019 Knots_, while\nthe Romans called them _anguimim_.\n\nThese strange balls were used medicinally by the Druids like the\nmistletoe; they employed them even in their religious ceremonies, and\nsoon they became so rare, that only the wealthiest people could procure\nthem, by paying their weight in gold. If the Druids had really at first\nbeen misled so as to adopt superstitious customs, which they repented of\nin their hearts, they soon found means to make these same superstitious\nrites beneficial to the people.\n\nUnfortunately serpents\u2019 knots, oaks, and their parasites, did not long\nsatisfy a people ever desirous of new things. It is a well-known fact\nthat innovations, however small may have been their first beginning, are\nsure to go on enlarging and increasing from day to day.\n\nThe old party of Tree worshippers, still numerous and very active as all\nold parties are, complained of the suppression of their companion-trees,\nthe ancient family oracles, for the purpose of favoring {040}one single\noak tree,--a tree which yet was not able, in spite of all the privileges\nit enjoyed, to put them into communication with _Estes_, the god of\nheaven.\n\nThis complaint was certainly not unfounded;--it had to be answered.\n\nThe Druids consisted of three classes:--\n\nThe Druids proper (_Eubages_, they were called in Gaul) were\nphilosophers as well as scholars, perhaps even magicians, for magic was\nat that time nothing more than the outward form of science. They were\ncharged with the maintenance of the principles of morality, and had to\nstudy the secrets of nature. The Prophets, on the other hand, knew how\nto interpret in the slightest breath of wind, the language of the holy\noak, which spoke to them in the rustling of its leaves, in the soughing\nof the branches, in the low cracking heard within the trunk, and even in\nthe earlier or later appearance of the foliage. There were, finally, the\nBards, poets bound to the altar.\n\nWhile the bards were singing around the oak, the prophets caused it to\nrender its oracles. These oracles soon increased largely not only in\nEurope, but also in Asia Minor, where a Celtic colony, according to\nHerodotus, established in the land they had conquered the oracle of\nDodona. Early Greece worshipped an oak tree, which Strabo, however,\nassures {041}us was a beech. There is no disputing about trees any more\nthan about colors; but Homer calls it an oak, and an oak it must remain\nfor us.\n\n[Illustration: 061]\n\nThis new movement, grafted upon the simple worship of the Druids, did\nnot stop here. After having for some time been accustomed to converse\nwith Teut by means of a tree, the Celts were naturally surprised at\nseeing that, while trees could speak, living creatures remained silent,\nand were apparently deprived of the power of foretelling the future.\nCertain chieftains, especially, felt aggrieved, {042}upon setting out on\na great campaign, that they were not allowed to carry the holy oak\nalong with them, and in their intense devotion, fell upon the idea\nof consulting the nervous trembling of their horses and their sudden\nneighing in moments of surprise or terror,--for in order to be of\nprophetic nature the movements of the animals had to be involuntary and\nspontaneous. As this creed began to spread gradually, every man who was\nsetting out on a journey or a warlike expedition mounted his horse in\nthe firm conviction that he would be able to consult his four-footed\nprophet at any time during his absence from home, provided he was able\nto submit the omens to the learned interpretations of a soothsayer.\n\nThe Druid priests were not long in becoming seriously alarmed at these\ntravelling oracles, liable as they naturally were to contradict each\nother.\n\nAs they had before chosen a single tree to be the sacred tree, so they\nnow accepted as genuine omens only the symptoms noticed in certain\nhorses which were bred within the sacred precincts and under their own\neyes.\n\nThese horses, of immaculate whiteness and raised at public expense, were\nnot employed for any work, and never had to submit to saddle or bridle.\nWild and untamed, they roamed with fluttering manes in perfect liberty\nthrough the lofty forests. The freedom {043}of their movements gave\nnaturally a safer character to their omens, and thus these prophetic\nhorses, which formed almost a part of the druidical clergy, enjoyed for\na long time the highest authority in all Celtic countries, when suddenly\none fine day new rivals arose.\n\nOther living creatures entered into competition with them, and these\nrivals of the horses were--shall I say it?--were women. These women\ndiscovered, all of a sudden, that they also were endowed, and in the\nvery highest degree, with the gifts of second sight, of inspiration,\nintuition, and divination.\n\nWhen public opinion appealed to the Druids to give their views on this\nclaim, they admitted, according to the statement of Tacitus, that women\nhad something more instinctive and more divine in them than men, nay,\neven than horses. Their sensitive organization predisposed them to\nreceive the gift of prophecy, and hence \u201cwomen indeed act more readily\nfrom natural impulse, without reflection, than from thought or reason.\u201d\n\nThis last explanation, improper in the highest degree, does not come\nfrom Tacitus, nor from myself, God forbid! It is the exclusive property\nof the aforementioned Mr. Simon Pelloutier. Let every one be responsible\nfor his own work!\n\nThe Druids treated the women just as they had {044}treated the horses,\nthe mistletoe, and the trees. They acknowledged as true prophetesses\nonly those who were already under the direct influence of the holy place\nand the sacred oak; that is to say, their wives and their daughters.\n\nThe principle of centralization of power is evidently not of modern\norigin.\n\n[Illustration: 064]\n\nThus, there were now Druidesses, as there had been Druids before. The\nlatter became the teachers of the young men; they taught their pupils\nthe motions of the stars, the shape and extent of the earth, the divers\nproducts of nature, the history of their ancestors written in the form\nof poems which the bards recited; in fact, they taught them everything\nexcept reading and writing. Memory was as yet sufficient for all things.\nThe priestesses, on the other hand, opened schools for the young girls;\nthey taught them to sing and to sew, they initiated them into religious\nceremonies and confided to them the knowledge of simples; nor was\npoetry neglected, as they had to learn by heart certain poems which were\nspecially composed for their benefit. These verses, of somewhat doubtful\n{045}lyrical character, probably taught them how to make bread, how to\nbrew beer, and other small details of the kitchen and the house.\n\nThe Druidesses practiced also medicine. This threefold prerogative of\nbeing physicians, prophets, and preceptors, finally raised them so high\nin the estimation of the nation, that when the priests of Teut were\ncompelled to abandon their sanctuaries, they did not hesitate to confide\nthem to their guardianship. They even presided in their own right, at\ncertain ceremonies.\n\nIf one of them excelled by the frequency, the lucidity, and the\nreliability of her inspirations, as was the case at different times with\nthe illustrious Aurinia, Velleda, and Ganna, whom the Roman emperors\neven deigned to consult through their ambassadors, the proud Druids\nplaced her with humble submission, at the head of their own college of\npriests. During this female dictatorship, she became the arbiter of the\ndestiny of nations, decided on peace and war, and controlled all the\nmovements of great armies.\n\nCaesar tells us that he once asked one of his German captives, why\nAriovistus, their chieftain, had never yet dared to meet him in battle,\nand was told in reply, that the Druidesses, after a careful examination\nof the eddies and whirlpools of the Rhine, had forbid his engaging in\naction till the {046}time of the new moon. As a matter of course, the\nshrewd general profited by this information, and when the new moon\nappeared, the Germans were in full flight.\n\n[Illustration: 066]\n\nBut the Rhine has not yet given its oracles, and the time has not yet\ncome, when Ganna Velleda, and Aurinia condescend to grant audiences to\nRoman ambassadors.\n\nWe only wished to trace in a few outlines the future development of this\ninstitution of Druidesses, which we shall meet again in the days of its\ndecline. {047}In the mean time, however, their influence and their power\nwere daily growing. Were the Teutons at last satisfied? By no means. In\nspite of all the skill displayed by their diviners and the Druid-esses,\nthey came to the conclusion, that neither the trembling foliage of the\nholy oak, nor the sudden starts, the wild leaps, and the more or less\nprolonged, loud neighings of the horses, afforded them sufficient\nexcitement and perfectly reliable revelations. It occurred to them next,\nto consult animals, not in their outward manifestations, but in their\nstill quivering entrails. This new ceremony could not fail to give to\ntheir religious worship a more serious aspect, and a certain savor of\nmurder, which no doubt had its charms for a warlike people.\n\nThe Druids yielded once more, but they felt discouraged. What had become\nof that grand philosophic religion, which was content with prayer and\nmeditation, and which they once--too fondly, perhaps--had hoped to be\nable to adapt to the nature of these barbarians?\n\nThey first consented to slay at the foot of the sacred oak, so long kept\nfree from blood, a number of noxious beasts, like wolves, lynxes, and\nbears; but the turn of domestic animals came ere long, and they began\nto sacrifice sheep, goats, and finally man\u2019s best companion in war,\nthe horse. Not even the spotless white horses, heretofore looked upon\n{048}with such profound and superstitious reverence, were spared any\nlonger.\n\nAnd at each step forward in this bloody career, the Druids, always\nresisting, and always compelled to yield, made their last and their very\nlast concession, vainly hoping that they might thus retain for a little\nwhile longer the power, which they felt was fast slipping from their\ngrasp.\n\nEncouraged by success, the reformers finally came to the question,\nwhether the most acceptable offering to be presented to God, was not the\nblood of man? Is not man, of all created beings, the most noble and the\nmost perfect? Perhaps they were inclined to carry the argument still\nfarther, and to reason that among all men the most worthy to be chosen\nand the most likely to be acceptable to God, were the Druids themselves?\nBut they took care not to ask too much at once. They held this final\nconsequence of a great principle in reserve, requiring for the present\nnothing more than a common victim, anything that might come in the way,\nprovided it was a human being.\n\nIt might have been expected, that when this abominable demand was made\nto hallow murder by committing it in the name of Heaven, the descendants\nand heirs of the ancient sages would have remembered their noble\nancestors who had put an end to the first and quite inoffensive\nsuperstitions {049}of the early Celts. They ought to have veiled their\nfaces, drawn back with horror, and recovering for once their former\nenergy, appealed by means of the holy oak, the spotless horses, the\nsoothsayers and the Druidesses, nay of heaven and earth itself, to\nthe whole nation, calling upon them to anathematize the infamous\npetitioners. But they did no such thing. On the contrary they hastened\nto legalize such savage bloodshed by their holy consent. One might\nalmost be led to suspect that they had themselves, underhand, suggested\nthe horrible idea.\n\nO ye hypocritical priests, ye false philosophers, ye tigers disguised as\nshepherds of the people!.... But we must check our indignation. For\nwho knows, but they may have been swayed not so much by an instinct\nof cruelty as by a lofty political, or even philanthropic principle?\nPhilanthropic? Yes, indeed; we will explain.\n\nAmong the Celts human life counted for little; it was lavished in\nbattles, it was cast away in duels. At the time when the Gauls held\nlarge national assemblies, they tried to secure punctual attendance by\nsimply putting to death the man who was the last to come; he paid for\nall the tardy ones. I do not mean to propose such a plan at the present\nday; but after all it was an infallible and economical measure. {050}The\nTeutons, on the other hand, bloodless in their national assemblies,\nafter a battle in which they had been victorious, delighted in\nmassacring all their prisoners.\n\nThese massacres ceased from the time when the Druids claimed for\nthemselves the exclusive right of human sacrifices.\n\nThe good Esus, having become bloodthirsty, demanded all the captives\nto be slain in expiation at his altar, and woe to him who dared to\nanticipate him in his wrath. He was excluded from the sacred precincts;\nhe was declared an impious, sacrilegious person, who could no longer\ntake his place among the citizens; and he ran great risk of being forced\nto offer his own life in compensation for that which by his fault was\nwanting at the holocaust.\n\nWhen this custom became once fully established, the prisoners of war\nwere all delivered up to the high-priest, who chose from among them one\nor more to be slain as an offering. The victim was generally one of the\ncaptive chieftains, and he was slain together with his war horse, so\nas to add to the impressiveness of the ceremony and to reconcile the\nspectators by the abundance of blood that was shed to the small number\nof victims.\n\nAfter having carefully examined the opened bodies of man and animal,\nthe sacrificing priest, his {051}beard and clothes saturated with blood,\nraised his bloody right hand to heaven and, reeking with murder and\nbreathing carnage, he proclaimed that his god was satisfied. The\nremainder of the prisoners were kept for another day, but that other day\nnever came.\n\nThus a new office had been created: that of a sacrificing priest. On\nboth banks of the Rhine, in Germany as well as in Gaul, the Druids\nreserved this office for themselves; in other Celtic countries, in\nScandinavia and among the Scythians, women performed the terrible duty;\nwe all remember as a proof of it, Iphigenia of Tauris.\n\nWhatever we may think of this bloody innovation, it certainly benefited\nthe prisoners, but the Druids obtained from it, after all, the greatest\nadvantage. Their power, which had been seriously undermined, step by\nstep, was once more firmly established. The opposition, which had paid\nno attention to their remonstrances or their prayers, shrunk from their\nknives.\n\nFrom this moment begins the Second Period of the Druids.\n\nThe bloody knife of the Druids remained long all powerful, but we need\nnot follow its later fate. C\u00e6sar had conquered and pacified Gaul,\nand the successors of Augustus fulminated their Imperial {052}decrees\nagainst the Druids, as slayers of men, while the same knife continued to\nshed the blood of the Germans.\n\n[Illustration: 072]\n\n[Illustration: 075]\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\n{055}_A Visit to the Land of our Forefathers.--The two Banks of the\nRhine.--Druid Stones.--Weddings and Burials.--Xight Service.--A Dentigod\nGlacier.--Social Duels. A Countrywoman of Aspasia.--Boudoir of a Celtic\nLady.--The Bard\u2019s Story.--Teutons and Titans.--Earthquake._\n\nAny one who has ever travelled in my company, must know that I am apt\nto stray from my way, or at least to choose the longest route. I have\na fancy to-day, to turn my eyes and my steps away from those sacred\nprecincts of the Druids, which {056}had become slaughter-houses and in\nwhich the hand that blessed was also the hand that killed.\n\nI desire to breathe an air less filled with the perfumes, or rather the\nfetid odor of sacrifices. Up there, on that hill-top, where the setting\nsun lights up the bright summit, I shall breathe more freely.\n\nHere I am.\n\nBeneath me the Rhine spreads out its two banks, not united yet by any\nbridge, and even without a ferry to bring the one nearer to the other.\n\nBut on both sides, half hid under dense willow thickets and gigantic\nreeds, there lie, in many a shallow little bay, large numbers of tiny\nbarks. These cunning looking boats belong to harmless fishermen in the\ndaytime; but at night they are filled with robbers and corsairs, who\nform in bands, cross over to the other side in search of booty, and even\nventure, if needs be, out into the Northern Sea. Just now nothing stirs;\nthe fishermen have gone home, the corsairs have not come forth. I look\nfarther out.\n\nOn the left bank there are some Gallic Celts encamped, with blue eyes,\nwhite skin, and abundant golden tresses. Almost naked, their principal\ngarment seems to be that immense shield, almost as long as their body,\nwhich shelters them on the march as well as when they are at rest, and\nwhich protects {057}them against the sun and the enemy alike. All of a\nsudden I hear them, with lips held close to one of the edges of their\nshields, utter sharp cries, which are taken up and repeated, from\ndistance to distance, all the way down the river. To these cries, which\nno doubt represent their telegraphic system, there comes an answer from\nfar sounding trumpets.\n\n[Illustration: 077]\n\nWho are these other soldiers with the black hair and the bronzed\ncomplexions? Carefully arrayed in symmetrical lines they advance\nsteadily, clad in brilliant armor, and carrying banners surmounted by\ngolden eagles with half open wings. Has C\u00e6sar really succeeded, after\nten years\u2019 warfare, in making himself master of Gaul as far as the banks\nof the Rhine? I cannot doubt it; for at their {058}approach, the Gauls\nlower their lance-heads, in token of their peaceful disposition, and\nallow them to pass.\n\n[Illustration: 078]\n\nWhen they reach the river, the small Roman army pauses; under the\nprotection of this armed force a few men, dressed in simple tunics, with\nno arms but tablets, a style, and ropes for measuring the ground, go to\nwork preparing a plan, perhaps for a bridge, perhaps for a town.\n\nGerman sentinels, take care!\n\nFrom the height of my hill I look down upon a {059}narrow strip of land\non the right bank of the river, and here I see several groups of men,\nscattered here and there in the woods and on the plain, who work under\nthe superintendence of a Druid. Some are digging up the roots of trees\nwhich overshadow and impoverish the ground; others draw long furrows\nwith the iron of their ploughs. These laborers seem all to suffer from\nsome restraint which impedes their movements, but of which at this\ndistance I can discover no cause.\n\nIn order to meditate on this strange sight, I look around for a resting\nplace. Half way up the hill I notice a small stone bench. As I draw\nnearer, the object grows in size and rises to such a height, that I\nshould need a ladder if I wished to take possession of my seat.\n\n[Illustration: 079]\n\nThis apparent bench is a monument, a Druidical monument, and consists of\ntwo upright stones, on which rests a third, horizontal stone. In France,\nin England, and in Germany there are still found {060}such Druidical\naltars, cromlechs or dolmens; these menhyrs astonished already Alexander\nof Macedonia when he marched through Scythia. In Bretagne, at Carnac,\nsome of these stones, consisting of a single rock, rise by the wayside,\nas if to tell the traveller the story of the past, or they range\nthemselves before his eyes in long lines, forming on the ground endless\ncircles of emblematic meaning, as it is supposed. But the traveller can\nno longer understand their language. Was this an altar, or was it an\nidol, or perhaps only a simple monument raised over a grave. If they\nwere altars, Carnac would be Olympus; if they were tombstones, it would\nbe a cemetery.\n\n[Illustration: 080]\n\nI was going all around the mystic three stones to examine them more\nclosely, when I noticed close by a flock of sheep, and then a shepherd.\n\nThis shepherd, covered with a ragged _sagum_, had on his feet leather\nsandals, a half open wound on his forehead, which had not yet had\ntime to close, enhanced the fierceness of his appearance. His burning\n{061}glances fell now upon the Druidical stone and now upon another\nobject which I had not noticed before. This was the guard of a sword\nwhich had been driven into the ground.\n\nCould it be that this stone resting upon two supports, were new\nconcessions made by the politic Druids?\n\n[Illustration: 081]\n\nAs according to their spiritualistic views God could not render himself\nvisible in a shape resembling our own, they had represented him as well\nas they could by a symbol. It appeared thus that human sacrifices were\nalready no longer sufficient to maintain their creed.\n\nWhile I was examining with growing curiosity this strange keeper of\nsheep, fair, with bare neck and bare feet, was busy watching on the same\nside of the hill another flock, and at the same time gathering herbs\nfor medicinal purposes. When she was about to leave, she offered the\nshepherd to attend to his wound, sword handle, and this {062}but he\nrefused haughtily; she ran away laughing, and threw a flower into his\nface.\n\nHe did not pick up that flower; he did not salute that pretty girl as\nshe left him. He looked at her with disdain.\n\nAh! I can doubt it no longer; this unhappy man is like the wood-cutter\nin the forest, and the laborers in the field, one of those prisoners\ntaken in war, whom the Druids have spared, and now render useful. His\nclosely shorn hair, his open wound, and the heavy wooden yoke which he\nhas to carry on his neck, all betray his sad fate. He has made no reply\nto the half pitiful, half coquettish advances of the pretty gatherer of\nsimples, because she has only awakened in his heart painful memories of\nhis distant love, or of his wife, whom he is never to see again! He has\ncast glances of fierce hatred and burning revenge at the Druidical altar\nand the handle of the sword, because both of these objects point out the\nplace of bloody sacrifices. Does he think he is himself destined to be\nslain? or was perhaps the warrior whom they slew yesterday, a man of his\nown tribe, his best friend, his own brother?\n\nBut I have taken refuge here in order to escape from these painful\nthoughts of blood and murder. I propose to seek new objects of interest.\n\nFarther down, nearly at the foot of the hill, I {063}see a few huts, or\nrather a few low, almost crushed roofs, which seem hardly to rise from\nthe ground. Are they houses, or stables, or caves?\n\nOn the left bank Gauls and Romans have alike disappeared in the mists\nrising from the river. On the right bank the wood-cutters and the\nfield-laborors are resting upon their axes or their ploughs, and seem to\nask the sun if the day is not drawing to an end.\n\n[Illustration: 083]\n\nA breeze is springing up, the shepherd gathers his flock and, as\nmournful as ever, he slowly takes {064}the footpath that leads down the\nhill towards the village.\n\nI follow him without knowing what mysterious power draws me in that\ndirection.\n\nPerhaps some Druid magician holds me under a potent spell, which enables\nme to forget who I am, whence I come, and even to what century I belong,\nand to witness these strange scenes, which, well nigh forgotten by all\nliving beings, I alone am permitted to watch? Let me try, at all events,\nto profit by this rare piece of good fortune.\n\nI reach the low village and find it occupied by a colony of Salic\nFranks, who live scattered all along the Rhine. With their eyes fixed\nupon the left bank, they are just now far more occupied with the\ninvasion of Germany by the Romans, than with the thought of invading\nGaul themselves.--I feel suddenly a deep interest in these people. What\nFrenchman of this nineteenth century can feel sure that the blood in his\nveins is not the same that once gave life and strength to these terrible\nwarriors from the North, Franks or Gauls? We are all natives of one or\nthe other bank of this great river Rhine, and feel towards each\nother, whether we live on the right or the left bank, very much like\nschool-boys whose friendship is cemented by many a battle royal.\n\nBeing a Frenchman, I feel that I am about to {065}pay a visit to my\npaternal ancestors--for the Franks have given us our name. No wonder\nthat I feel deeply moved.\n\nI examine the low huts of the village, if village it can be called, and\nfind that they are separated from each other by commons and by fields,\nand that they finally lose themselves in the open country. Where now\nthese scattered huts are standing, there may be one of these days a\nMayence or a Cologne, and yet they will occupy no larger space with all\ntheir suburbs included.\n\nOn both sides of the road extend orchards, fenced in with reeds and all\naglow with blooming apple trees; dark, sombre pine forests and swamps,\nthe greenish waters of which are confined within slight dams; here and\nthere the live rock crops out from the ground and interrupts the road,\nor huge trees are lying across, recently cut down and but just deprived\nof their branches. In the open pasture grounds huge buffaloes are lying\nabout snorting and panting with fatigue, for they have worked all day in\nthe plough; the neighing of horses is heard from one end of the country\nto the other, and gradually dies out as the sun sinks below the horizon;\nlean heifers, with long, spiral horns, push here and there their heads\nthrough the fence of the orchards to have a last bite at the tender\nfoliage of the reeds, and small oxen of an {066}inferior breed return to\ntheir quarters at the same time with the sheep, quite content to browse\non the grass by the wayside, while herds of swine are wallowing in the\nmire of the low grounds.\n\n[Illustration: 086]\n\nThe landscape resembles parts of Bretagne and of Normandy; but these\nprovinces have no such huts. To see a human habitation, you have to rise\nhigh above the fences and hedges and then look down upon the ground.\n\nAt a place where two roads meet, the cracking of a whip is heard;\nhogs, sheep, and small oxen are driven aside to make way for a kind of\nprocession, consisting of grave and solemn men and women, who almost all\nwear a look of consternation.\n\nIt is a wedding.\n\nTwo young people have just had their union blessed by the priests under\nthe sacred oak. The bride is dressed in black, and wears a wreath of\ndark leaves on her head; she walks in the midst {067}of her friends,\nbent double, as if weighed down by overwhelming thoughts. A matron, who\nwalks on her left, holds before her eyes a white cloth; it is a shroud,\nthe shroud in which she will be buried one of these days. On her right,\na Druid intones a chant, in which he enumerates, in solemn rhythm, all\nthe troubles and all the anxieties which await her in wedded life.\n\n[Illustration: 087]\n\n\u201cFrom this day, young wife, thou alone wilt have to bear all the burden\nof your united household.\n\n\u201cYou will have to attend the baking oven, to provide fuel, and to go\nin search of food; you will have to prepare the resinous torch and the\nlamp.\n\n\u201cYou will wash the linen at the fountain, and you will make up all the\nclothing;\n\n\u201cYou will attend to the cow, and even to the horse if your husband\nrequires it;\n\n\u201cAlways full of respect, you will wait upon him, standing behind him, at\nhis meals;\n\n\u201cIf he chooses to take more wives, you will receive your new companions\nwith sweetness; {068} If needs be, you will even offer to nurse the\nchildren of these favorites, and all from obedience to your karl\n(master);\n\n\u201cIf he is angry against you and strikes you, you will pray to Esus, the\nonly God, but you will never blame your husband, who cannot do wrong.\n\n\u201cIf he expresses a wish to take you with him to war, you will accompany\nhim to carry his baggage, to keep his arms in good condition, and to\nnurse him if he should be sick or wounded.\n\n\u201cHappiness consists in the fulfillment of duty. Be happy, my child!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 088]\n\nWhen I heard this dolorous wedding song, which in some parts of France\nis to this day addressed to brides by local minstrels, when I saw this\nwinding-sheet, {069}the mournful costumes and the whole funereal wedding\nprocession, I felt overcome with sadness. Just then, cries and joyous\nacclamations were heard at some little distance.\n\nAnother procession came from the opposite direction to the cross-roads;\nthere all the faces were smiling and full of joyousness.\n\nThis was a funeral.\n\n[Illustration: 089]\n\nSuch were the ways of our fathers; they rejoiced in facing death, which\nrelieves man from all his sufferings; they had nothing but tears for man\nwhen he entered upon his trials.\n\nIn the meantime the twilight had passed into darkness. Small lights,\nlooking like will-o\u2019-the-wisps, were flitting to and fro in field and\nforest, going in all directions. Devout worshippers, carrying torches\nor lanterns in their hands, were going to consecrated places, to hold\npublic worship or to recite private prayers. {070}Some, and these were\nthe majority, go in the direction of the oak forests, where the Druids\nare found; others, concealing the light of their lanterns as well as\nthey can, go hither and thither, towards the copses of beeches and pine\ntrees, or towards the river, or towards the hill, which was but just\nnow shining brightly in the sunlight, but is now concealed in utter\ndarkness.\n\n[Illustration: 090]\n\nWhat are they going to do? They are going to worship the Rhine, the\nwells, the water-courses, the trees, the Druidical {071}altars, and the\nsword-guards. For no creed yet but has had its schisms.\n\nOrthodox or not, German or Gallic, the Franks have always shown a\npreference for nocturnal worship; they divide the year into moons,\nand count the moons not by days but by nights. And yet they have been\nsuspected of worshipping the sun! And I had nearly fallen into the same\nerror! How well it was that I came to see for myself!\n\nAs I am just now more interested in watching manners than in studying\nmythology, I pursue my investigations, especially as I know very well\nthat we must know the lives which people lead in order to be able fully\nto appreciate the objects of their worship.\n\nWhile all these small lights are flashing, like shooting stars, here\nand there through the landscape, certain specially bright lights seem\nto become stationary and permanent. These are the lighted-up windows of\nhuman habitations. I called the latter just now stables, or caves, and\nexcepting a few of them, I must still call them such.\n\nThey are dug out of the ground, damp and dark; their ceiling is on a\nlevel with the surface of the earth, and their roof consists of layers\nof turf, or of dry thatch covered with moss. The only door resembles the\nlid of a snuff-box, and is set in the roof on a level with the ground.\nThe dwelling {072}has no light but such as enters through these\ntrapdoors; consequently they are utterly dark during the whole rainy\nseason and during winter, that is to say, for three fourths of the year!\nDarkness reigns supreme here; that darkness which is the enemy of all\nhealthfulness, of enjoyment, of every comfort. No windows! No glass! O\ndivine Apollo,--\n\n\u201cThou of the silver bow, god of Claros, hear!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 092]\n\nI never had any objection to the doctrine which made of you, the\nbrilliant personification of the sun, a first class divinity; but I\nthink like honors ought to have been bestowed upon the unknown man who\nfirst invented windows and window-panes, the {073}first glazier in fine.\nHe ought at least to have been made a demigod, and if he had to remain a\nsimple mortal, they ought surely to have remembered his name! Alas! that\nhigh honors are as unfairly distributed in heaven as upon earth!\n\nAs there is no window, I peep through the trapdoor to see how these\nsubterranean dwellings look inside. The aspect is far from being as\nwretched as I had expected. I find that the walls are hung with mattings\nand the floor is beaten hard; by the side of the smoking lamp which\nis suspended from the main beam of the ceiling, there are hanging, on\nhooks, a hindquarter of venison, baskets filled with provisions, and\nimplements for fishing and hunting. Besides, I notice long strings of\nmedicinal herbs, such as we see in the shops of herb-doctors, and among\nthese plants the mistletoe occupies, as a matter of course, the place of\nhonor.\n\nIn another underground hut there appear actually some traces of luxury.\nHere the walls are incrusted with pebbles from the Rhine, of many colors\nand skillfully arranged; here and there weapons are arranged in various\nshapes; javelins with sharp hooks; framees, such as the ancient Franks\nwere using; hatchets of stone or iron; \u201cmorning stars,\u201d with sharp\npoints, were pleasantly mingled with huge bucklers; large leather\nquivers and long arrows feathered at one end and with jagged teeth\n{074}at the other. At first sight it looks as if for the purpose of\nsoftening somewhat the threatening aspect of these panoplies, the Celtic\nlady of the house had added some of her jewels to these weapons. But it\nis not so; these gold chains, these necklaces set with onyx and rubies,\nare worn by the grim warriors on the day of battle, quite as much in the\nnature of ornaments as for the purpose of protection. One of our\nsober, I may say, most sober historians, ascribes to this custom of\nour forefathers, the Franks, the gorget, worn still by officers in some\nEuropean armies. Here also I see straw mats, but here they are trod\nunder foot; they are used as carpets, not as hangings.\n\nThe deep and spacious dwelling contains, besides the large room which\nalone I can see through my dormer-window, a number of other rooms on\nall sides, or rather of other caves, which are all connected with each\nother. I am evidently before the palace of one of the chief men of the\ncountry.\n\nIn the first hut, into which I had looked, I had found the people at\ntable, drinking a beverage made from grain and herbs--cerevisia--in\nhorns of wild bulls, and talking about business--for our ancestors\ntalked about business at dinner, just as we do. The conversation turned\nabout exchanges of rams, a great fishing expedition to be undertaken\njointly, an invasion to be made into the territory on the other{075}\n\n{077}bank of the river, and most eagerly, about the approaching\nelections. For Montesquieu tells us that municipal and even\nconstitutional government existed alike among the early Germans.\n\nIn the other dwelling, the one adorned with panoplies, they were talking\nneither of elections, nor of fishing, but they were likewise at table.\nHere they drank not only cerevisia in the _horns of the brave_, but also\nhydromel and hippocras in leathern tankards or human skulls, as white\nas ivory, adorned with silver and naturally shaped like cups. God be\nthanked that this custom has not been bequeathed to us by the Franks!\n\nOn that evening they were celebrating the welcome given to a young\nwarrior who had already made himself known by great exploits and who\nbelonged to a neighboring, friendly tribe.\n\nWhen the meal was ended, and what a meal it was!--I shall be careful\nnot to give the bill of fare, since the mere recital would cause an\nindigestion,--they thought of prolonging the entertainment given to\ntheir illustrious guest. But what could they do? The young Frankish\nladies were not familiar yet with the piano, and the noble game of\nbilliards had not yet been invented. They proposed riddles to be\nguessed, but this did not seem to afford much amusement to the young\nman. Then came a game with bones; but he nearly fell {078}asleep. As the\nduty of hospitality required that they should make every possible\neffort to entertain their guest, a great man among the Cheruski or the\nMarcomanni, they proposed the _handkerchief_; this, seemed to arouse his\nattention.\n\nThe handkerchief game was at that time very popular; it was a kind of\ncompany duel. Two kind-hearted adversaries, having no other motive but\nto amuse themselves and to entertain the company, would seize with their\nleft hand one end of a handkerchief, and with their right hand a table\nknife or a hunting knife, it did not matter which, provided the weapon\nwas sharp and very pointed. For our good ancestors did not know foils\nwith cork buttons or other arms of courtesy. Imbued with the strange\nidea that to fight, man against man, or a thousand against a thousand,\nwas the greatest happiness upon earth, they delighted in occasionally\ncutting each other\u2019s throat, even if they were the best friends in the\nworld.\n\nThe spectators formed a ring around the combatants. After they had taken\na solemn oath, by the rims of their bucklers, by the shoulders of\ntheir horses, and by the points of their swords, that they cherished no\nfeeling of animosity against each other, a signal was given and the game\ncommenced. For some time I saw how the handkerchief was stretched out,\ntwisted and then suddenly {079}turned around and around rapidly. Light\nred lines had already begun to mark the skin of the two adversaries; the\nblood was trickling down their arms, but these wounds were such trifles\nthat the spectators took no notice of them and uttered not a single\nexclamation.\n\nAll of a sudden I heard three hurrahs in rapid succession; the welcomed\nguest, whom all had been striving to honor to the utmost of their\ncapacity, had fallen down with his adversary\u2019s knife still sticking in\nhis breast. He was dead.\n\nThey had not been able to think of any better way to make him spend a\npleasant evening. The good old times had a hospitality of their own!\n\nThis pleasant handkerchief game has survived, only slightly modified,\nin several countries of northern Europe. The handkerchief is generally\nwrapped around a rapier, so as to shorten the length of the blade. In\nthe taverns of Holland the game is considered conducive to health; a\nknife wound gives a man a chance to escape apoplexy; it serves as a\ntimely bleeding.\n\nI had run away in horror. For an hour I wandered about, casting a\nfurtive glance down a trapdoor here and there, and almost everywhere\nI saw men and women, horses and cattle, enjoying their rest, lying\npell-mell on the same litter.\n\nIn one of these hovels I thought I recognized {080}the young girl whom\nI had seen on the hill; her attitude of repose gave a peculiar charm to\nher supple and delicate limbs, and by the feeble flickering light of the\nlamp, she suggested the idea of a sleeping nymph.\n\n[Illustration: 100]\n\nShe was a young Ionian girl, a countrywoman of Aspasia; captured in war,\nshe had been sold as a slave in twenty markets, developing in spite of\nsuch treatment, one grace and one beauty after another. On the banks of\nthe Ilyssus, they would have erected an altar in her honor, on the banks\nof the Rhine they made her keep a herd of swine. {081}She was not the\nonly one of her sex, however, whom I saw during that fantastic night.\n\nThe sound of a shrill fife, mingling with the sweeter notes of a harp,\nattracted my attention. I went toward the spot from which the music\ncame.\n\nIn a little room decked with flowers, a young woman was engaged in her\ntoilet.\n\nI ought to have fled once more,--this time from bashfulness or a sense\nof propriety,--but a conscientious historian is bound to overcome every\ndifficulty, in order to ascertain the exact truth. It was a great piece\nof good luck, surely, to be able to report as an eye-witness, what might\nbe seen in the boudoir of a Celtic lady.\n\nMy friend was sitting, half undressed, on a stool, with her hair\nloosened, and holding in her hand a metal mirror. An old woman, a\nservant or her mother, I cannot tell which--and yet it seemed to me as\nif I had seen both these women, as well as the beautiful swine-herd,\nsomewhere before; when that was, however, I could not possibly tell--the\nold woman held the whole rich abundance of the young lady\u2019s hair in\nboth her hands and rubbed it with a horrid mixture of tallow, ashes, and\nplaster. Thanks to this wretched pomatum, the beautiful hair gradually\nchanged from pale blonde to intense red, and thus enabled the owner\nto comply with a fashion, which I do not presume to criticise, but\n{082}simply record here. Then she washed and combed it carefully,\nplaited it cunningly, and at last rubbed the shoulders and the neck of\nthe beauty with melted butter, while she washed the face and the hands\nwith foaming beer.\n\n[Illustration: 102]\n\nAfter the demands of cleanliness had thus been satisfied, she placed\nbefore her mistress a slight collation, which was promptly served and\npromptly dispatched. While she was thus attending to her toilet and\ndisposing of a bird\u2019s meal, there was a cyclopean feast going on in an\nadjoining room; loud and violent voices were heard, everybody seemed\n{083}to talk at once, and in such high tones that even the shrill fife\ncould no longer be distinguished--for it was from this hall that the\nsound of music proceeded, which had attracted me to the dwelling.\n\nThe old woman evidently thought the feast was drawing to an end, for she\nhastened to finish her mistress\u2019s toilet: She opened a wooden box and\ndrew from it a pair of pretty red boots, which she put on the feet of\nthe young beauty; then she threw over her white dress a purple scarf,\nwhich she fastened on the left shoulder with a long thorn from a\nsloe-tree. After that she tied a narrow scarlet ribbon around her head,\nhanded her a collar and bracelets made of small berries, which in form\nand color were strikingly like corals, and finally, as the finishing\ntouch, she daubed her cheeks with red by means of a cosmetic which I\nsuspect consisted largely of brickdust. When the young Frankish beauty\nfound that there was enough red--scarlet, crimson, purple, and pink--on\nher person from head to foot, she uttered a cry of triumph, especially\nwhen her husband, who entered her room, followed by his guests, seemed\nto be quite dazzled by the resplendent charms of his lovely wife, whom\nhe had just _bought_.\n\nTo buy a woman was a familiar expression in Germany at that time, as\nit is now,--_Ein weib kaufen_. It must be borne in mind, however, that\n{084}in those days the bride brought no dower; on the contrary, the\nhusband paid her family a certain sum as compensation. We have inherited\nmany of our usages from our Celtic forefathers; but as to this custom,\nwe have not thought proper to keep it up.\n\nI at once recognized the husband, although he was now all smiles in his\nface, and let us hope, all smiles in his heart also. He was the chief\npersonage in the wedding procession, whom I had seen two hours before,\nlooking so grave and solemn, so sad and mournful.\n\nAccording to Druidical regulations, the bride has first of all waited\nupon him at table, humbly standing behind him like the other house\nslaves; then, towards the middle of the repast, she had gone to her\nroom in order to exchange her girlish costume for the dress of a married\nwoman--a woman who has the right to follow the fashions and to dress\nherself up in red from the heels of her feet to the end of her hair.\n\nNow she receives her master _at home_; here she is mistress, and\nmistress she will remain. This was the rule among the Franks; for in\nspite of the lachrymose anthems of the bards and in spite of the sombre\nceremonies of the wedding, the women became almost invariably the\nmasters at home, a usage which, contrary to that of dowerless girls,\nmay possibly have crossed the Rhine. {085}Thinking it over, I found that\nduring my nocturnal excursion into the land of my forefathers, I had\nbeen present--as a witness only, be it understood--at three successive\nentertainments; a feast of welcome, a business dinner, and a wedding\ndinner. Although they had not been calculated to satisfy my appetite,\nthey had, at all events, made me extremely hungry. I was thinking,\ntherefore, of retracing my steps and looking for a lodging, when I\nsaw the Druid-bard, who had not disdained taking a seat at the nuptial\nfeast, coming slowly and solemnly to the centre of the room, all the\nwhile drawing a few accords from, a kind of harp, which consisted of a\nclosely bent bow with three strings instead of one.\n\n[Illustration: 105]\n\nHe was getting ready to charm the company with the recital of one of\nthose long and mysterious poems which recount the history of the Celts.\nI delay my departure.\n\nIt has been said, and not without a show of reason, that the history of\nour Gallic or Germanic ancestors ought to be for us a subject of deep\ninterest; but bold minds have in vain tried to raise {086}up once more\nthe old oak tree, to trim it and to let air and light enter within its\ncanopy of leaves. The birds that once sang in its branches have left no\ntrace behind them of their songs, and nothing has reached us from those\nsacred precincts but a few faint echoes.\n\nI certainly have reason to praise my good fortune! What all these great\nscholars, these learned men, have not been able to accomplish by dint\nof energy and perseverance and aided by all their knowledge of Latin,\nGreek, and Sanskrit, I (I, the man whom you know) am enabled to do!\nThanks to the bard\u2019s long recital, I am able to fill up this blank,--the\nfirst, the only man in the history of mankind, who can throw light upon\nthe impenetrable darkness of those ages!\n\nThe bard began. I listened, all attention and eagerness, trying to catch\nevery sound and to impress every word upon my excellent memory.\n\nIn a pompous introduction he told us all about the first arrival of the\nCelts in Europe, the coming of the Druids as apostles of the true\nfaith; he told us how a great colony of Salic Franks, Gauls, under the\ncollective name of Pelasgi, all children of Teut, or Teutons, had\nfirst planted a sacred oak at Dodona. On this point I was already well\ninformed. He then alluded to the building up of Athens, due as much to\nthe Teutons as to the {087}Greeks of Cecrops; he boasted, that when the\nGreeks were led astray by their corrupt imagination and wished to\nraise altars to Saturn, Jupiter, and all those false gods whom they had\nborrowed from the Egyptians and the Phoenicians, the Teutons rose in the\nname of outraged human reason, and proclaimed the only one God, breaking\ndown all the false altars. Hence, he said, that formidable struggle,\nstill so well known as the battle of the gods of Olympus against the\n_Teutons_ or _Titans_....\n\nI held my breath. What? Those terrible giants, those colossal men, whom\nJupiter himself feared and who piled Ossa upon Pelion, or Pelion upon\nOssa--they were Celts? They were the ancestors of the brave French?\n\nO Titans, O my brothers, with what delight I listened to the sacred\nwords of the bard, so that I might repeat them to you and rejoice with\nyou in our glorious descent!\n\nBy special grace I understood the Germano-Celtic words of the bard\nwithout difficulty. But the poem was flowing on interminably; I began\nto mistrust my memory. Centuries succeeded centuries, events followed\nevents, and they were as close to each other and as numerous as grains\nin a bag of wheat. The continuous exertion of all my faculties began to\ntell upon me. The most illustrious {088}heroes of Gaul and of Germany\nappeared to me soon only like the faint forms seen by means of a magic\nlantern; Sigovesus and Bellovesus, the descendants of the great king\nAmbigat; Brennus, Btlgius, and Lutharius, sons or sons-in-law of that\nother great king Cambaules, began to turn around and arouad in my head,\nholding each other by the hand and performing an old British dance to\nthe music of an old Breton instrument. Ariovistus played on the biniou.\nThen the sounds of the biniou, the shrill tones of the fife and the\nDruid harp were broken in upon by a terrible noise of countless church\nbells; the air shook all of a sudden, the earth trembled, everything\naround me fell to the ground with a great crash, the Druid, the house of\nthe wedding, the trap-door, the hamlet, the trees, the hill, the Rhine\nand its banks, the heaven and the stars, all disappeared at the same\nmoment, and I awoke in my arm-chair, surrounded by my poor books, which\nhad just fallen from my knees.\n\nThe dinner bell was still ringing.\n\n[Illustration: 111]\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\n{091}_The Roman Gods invade Germany.--Drusus and the Druidess.--Ogmius,\nthe Hercules of Gaul.--Great Philological Discovery concerning Teut at\nes.--Transformations of every kind.--Irmexsul.--The Rhine deified.--The\nGods cross the River.--Druids of the Third Epoch._\n\nYou may rest assured, I did not merely dream of that bold transformation\nof Teutons into Titans; one of the most learned and most reliable\nauthors in my library, assures me of the fact. These great scholars are\nsometimes very clever men.\n\nAccording to this authority, the Celts were very much taller than the\nGreeks, and this fact had naturally suggested to the latter the idea\nof speaking of them as giants. The Celtic Pelasgi, who were warlike\nshepherds like all the men of their race, usually watched their flocks\nas they were {092}grazing on the high mountains, and it was these\nmountains which the myth accused them of piling up, one upon another,\nto scale the heavens. You will say, What mad follies of poets! I grant\nthis; but after these mad poets came men like Hesiod and Homer, who\nchanged the idle dream into stern reality, and upon this rock a new\nreligion was founded, and with it, a new civilization.\n\nNow the day has come when these same gods of Greece, having become the\ngods of great Rome, will pursue the Titans, or Teutons, to the very\nheart of Germany.\n\nIt is well known that C\u00e6sar, after having conquered Gaul, had promptly\ncrossed the Rhine, rather for the purpose of making a reconnaissance\non the opposite bank of the river, than with any view to conquest.\nHis successor went farther into Germany. Drusus, the adopted son of\nAugustus, and his lieutenant, reached the banks of the river Elbe,\npursuing the Franks, the Teutons, the Burgundians, the Cheruski, the\nMarcomanni, all those children of the same great family, who had been\novercome, put to flight, but never subjugated. All of a sudden, at the\nvery moment when he is about to cross the river, there comes forth from\nthe dark, dense forest, not a new army of barbarians, bristling with\nspears and halberts, but a woman, a tall, haughty looking woman, with\nlong disheveled hair{093}\n\n[Illustration: 113]\n\n{094}\n\n[Illustration: 114]\n\n{095}flowing down upon her bare shoulders, and on her brow a crown of\nsimple oak branches.\n\nShe steps across his path and with uplifted finger orders him in an\nimperious voice to turn back and to go to his camp to prepare for death.\n\nIt was a Druidess, endowed in the highest degree with the gift of\nprophecy; so it would seem at least, for Drusus had hardly entered the\nRoman camp, when he fell from his horse and expired.\n\nNot all the Druidesses, however, succeeded in making the Roman generals\ngo back, by a word or a gesture; nor did all the Roman generals fall\nfrom their horses and die. After fifty-five years of strangely varying\nfortunes, the Genius of Rome was victorious, and must needs have been\nvictorious, for it led the whole world by its power. It brought with\nit also its gods, which in spite of their numbers, or rather perhaps\nbecause they were so numerous, met on the banks of the Rhine with a more\ndetermined resistance than its soldiers.\n\nRome had a magnificent mission to fulfill. Her glorious duty upon earth\nwas to restore the unity of all the great human families, and to\nimprove their condition by bringing them in contact with each other--by\nfraternity, in fine. To attain this end, she had generally employed War\nas her principal instrument; Religion had been a subsidiary agent only,\na weapon which she kept concealed, {096}but which she used with great\nefficacy to secure the permanency of her conquests.\n\nUnfortunately, Roman gods were as liable to corruption, and to fearful\ncorruption, as the great men of the Empire. Nations rise step by step\non the grand ladder of civilization; when they have reached the top they\nmust keep up their activity, without which no life and no progress can\nbe maintained, and thus the moment comes when they are forced to descend\nagain, till at last they sink into sensual degradation, into erudite,\nrefined, voluptuous barbarism--the very bottom of the ladder.\n\n[Illustration: 116]\n\nRome had begun by raising altars to all the virtues; now her deities\npersonified nothing but vices. How could they expect to introduce\nthem and make them acceptable to these coarse Germans, among whom\nprostitution, adultery, and theft were hardly known by name, who allowed\na woman {097}to claim hospitality at the house of any _Karl_, to rest\nunder his roof, and even to share his couch, without fearing slander, if\nhe had but put a naked sword between her and himself, and who had\nnever known and could not know the use of locks and keys? Were they not\naccustomed to hang their most valuable possessions upon the branches\nof a consecrated tree in the open camp, or to place them on top of a\ndruidical stone or beneath it, as they chose--knowing that there they\nwere perfectly safe? When they had taken this simple precaution, they\ncould go to bed and sleep quietly, and there was no need for putting a\nsentinel on guard.\n\nAlready, in the days of C\u00e6sar, the Romans had employed a very ingenious\nand cunning device, in order to win over the simple Gauls. They\nhad pretended to find their gods, their own peculiar gods, already\nestablished in the country from olden times. Thus there existed in Gaul\na statue which the Etrusci had erected in honor of _Ogmius_, or rather\n_Ogma_. The Greek Lucian mentions it in these words:--\n\n\u201cIt is a decrepit old man; his skin is black; this form of a man,\nhowever, wears the attributes of Hercules, the lion\u2019s skin and the club.\n\n\u201cI thought at first,\u201d Lucian adds, \u201cthat the Celts had invented this odd\nfigure in order to laugh at {098}the gods of Greece; but this so-called\nHercules, who is of very great antiquity, drags after him a multitude of\nmen, whom he leads by golden chains which he holds in his mouth, while\nthey are fastened to the ears of his victims.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 118]\n\nThis _Ogmius_ was evidently a typical representation of Druidism itself;\n_Ogma_, in Celtic languages, means both science and eloquence. What\nhas Hercules to do with all this? Nevertheless the Romans insisted upon\ncalling him by that name.\n\nNor did they stop here. {099}When they found all the nations they had\nconquered were continually speaking of a certain _Teutates_,\nthey at once declared that they recognized in this popular person their\nown god Mercury. It was he and no other! It was Mercury, the son of\nJupiter and the nymph Ma\u2019ia. There was a striking resemblance, an\nunmistakable analogy! No one could misapprehend the thing for an\ninstant!\n\n[Illustration: 119]\n\nOh, my good Romans, I don\u2019t mean to blame you now for all the trouble\nyou gave me when I was at college! I will forget all that--But what\ncould make you conceive this stupid idea, of naturalizing among us your\nMercury, the god of eloquence, if {100}you choose, but above all the\never ready pimp of Jupiter, the god of trade and of thieves, and of\nnaturalizing him in a land where trade, love, and thieves are so little\nknown! In subservience to this Roman notion, some of our modern writers\nhave been clever enough to prove that there were really many points of\nresemblance between Mercury and Teutates--but I, I openly deny it! Once\nmore, philology shall come to my assistance, to overturn their doctrine.\nIt was only this morning, while shaving, that I made a philologie\ndiscovery of the very highest importance, in which the public will take\nthe most lively interest, and, I doubt not, the French Acadamy also.\n\nThe word _Teut_, as the reader no doubt knows perfectly well, means\n_God; Tat_ in ancient Celtic and in modern Breton may be accurately\nrendered as _father_--so an old Breton woman assures me, who brought me\nup when I was a child. Add to _Tat_ the termination _Es_, the diminutive\nform of _Esus_, the _Lord_, connect the three monosyllables, and you\nhave _Teut-Tat-Es_, God, Father, and Lord!\n\nWhere--I appeal to all the famous historians so graphically described\nby Rabelais--where do you find a trace of Mercury in Teutates now? He is\nbeyond all doubt the great divinity of the Celts, but you found it more\nconvenient to follow the interested views of the Roman writers. And yet\n{101}even if they were innocent of any design upon your credulity, might\nthey not have been mistaken themselves? Are you not aware that Plutarch,\nconscientious Plutarch himself, after having witnessed the Feast of\nTabernacles in Palestine, tells us gravely that the Jews worshipped\nBacchus? You were not aware of it, come, confess it frankly! For I will\nconfess to you, that I was not aware of it, myself, ten minutes ago;\nbut Dr. Rosahl has just told me so. The good doctor is delighted at\nmy discovery of the true meaning of _Teut-Tat-Es_; he thinks no\netymological question of such importance \u2018was ever more satisfactorily\nput and answered in the same breath. He advises me strongly to write a\nmemoir on the subject, which he will undertake to bring to the notice of\nlearned societies, and only suggests the expediency of leaving out any\nallusion to my old Breton nurse; but I am too conscientious a writer\never to omit quoting my authorities.\n\nNow, since I have mentioned Rabelais, let us \u201creturn to our lambs,\u201d that\nis, to our Teutons.\n\nAfter the Roman conquest, the same transformation of native deities\ninto classic gods continued in Germany. The sacred oak was changed into\nJupiter, whom it represented symbolically; the Druidical altars became\neither Apollo or Diana; sometimes they were made to represent deities\nof inferior rank, nymphs, anything in fact. But these numerous\n{102}metamorphoses, made rather hastily, led to a curious mistake.\n\nThe conquerors had met on the banks of the Weser a huge monolith,\ncut with an axe by simple and ignorant stone-carvers. It was called\n_Irmensul_. Like the Celtic Teutates, this Irmensul also attracted\nat certain fixed times an immense concourse of people. The Romans,\nappreciating the martial spirit of the natives, did not hesitate to\ndeclare that this was Mars, their god of war. Thereupon they paid it\nall possible honor, consecrating their weapons to the new deity, and\noffering countless propitiatory sacrifices.\n\nNow, who was this Irmensul?\n\nWhen Varus had invaded Germany, during the reign of Augustus, at\nthe head of three legions, Arminius, a chieftain of the Cheruski (a\nBrunswicker, we would say nowadays), had surprised him, and completely\nsurrounded his army in the marshes of Teutoburg, on the banks of the\nWeser. Every man of this army, whether a Roman or a warrior of the\nallied tribes wearing Roman livery, had perished by the sword. For eight\ndays the bloody waters of the Weser had carried down more than thirty\nthousand dead bodies.\n\nWhen the news of this disaster reached Augustus, he thought that Gaul\nwas lost, Italy in danger, and Rome herself imperilled. Mad with grief,\nhe would {103}rise, for a month afterwards, night after night, and in\nhis terror wander through his vast palace, crying out: \u201cO Varus, Varus,\nbring me back my legions!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 123]\n\nWell, the Irmensul was nothing more than a triumphal column erected\nin honor of Arminius and his Cheruski. _Irmen_ is the same as the\nname _Herman or Armin_ (Arminius), and _sul_ means column. The Romans,\nhowever, did not know this, and they paid dearly for their ignorance.\nIf they had known better they would not have committed the egregious\nblunder of kneeling down and worshipping the man who had destroyed the\nthree legions of Varus. It is very evident that they were as ignorant of\nGerman as of Celtic. {104}It ought not to surprise us, however, to\nsee the soldiers of the imperial people change stones into gods, as\nDeucalion had changed them into men. Before the days of Homer, and for\na long time after him, Jupiter was in Seleucia modestly represented by\na fragment of rock and Cybele by a black stone. In Cyprus, the Venus of\nPaphos was nothing but a triangular or quadrangular pyramid, nor can I\nimagine what importance could be attached to three or four angles in\na body, which was soon to assume the softest and most fascinating\noutlines. First the poets had come and sung of Cybele, the kind goddess,\nof Jupiter the omnipotent, and of Venus, the soul of the world and the\nqueen of beauty. Inspired by their voice and the bold conceptions of\ntheir fancy, the sculptors had next employed the chisel upon these\nstones and these pyramids, and there had sprung forth from these\nshapeless masses the Lord of Gods, armed with his lightning, the\nbeautiful Cytherea, armed with the most powerful weapons of all womanly\ngraces. Oh, poets and sculptors, you have upset everything in religion!\nYou are responsible for the loss of that austere simplicity which once\ncharacterized the faith of men! Miserable cutters of stone, reckless\ncounters of syllables, you, and you alone, have substituted symbols\nfor truth! Still, I do not condemn you; although I have stood up\nto {105}defend the Druids of the earliest days, I am far from being\ninsensible to the charms of art and of poetry; besides, what right have\nI, who speak of gods and myths, to pass sentence on those who have been\nthe real creators of Mythology?\n\n[Illustration: 125]\n\nWhile the conquerors of the Teutons, in the pride of their cleverness,\nwere committing blunder after blunder, and fell into the pits they had\ndug for others, the real gods of Rome stayed on the banks of the Rhine,\nwhere they had already been accepted by the Gauls. They were impatient\nenough to see Germany also erect them temples and statues, but the Rhine\nwith uplifted waves barred the passage.\n\nPerhaps the old river remembered his grievances {106}of former days,\nwhen he had been compelled to appear in the triumphal processions of\nGermanicus, as a conquered river, loaded with chains, while the rabble\nand riffraff of Rome had insulted him to his face and covered him from\nhead to foot with the mud of the Tiber.\n\nThe remembrance of his former humiliation seemed to revive his wrath\nat this day, and he unfolded his whole strength to take his revenge. In\nvain had the Olympians tried repeatedly to cross at different points;\neverywhere, from the Alps to the Northern Sea, they found him\nfurious, roaring and rushing, full of threats in his green waters and\nbesprinkling the banks with white foam.\n\n[Illustration: 126]\n\nAt last they bribed him to espouse the cause of the Empire: they made\nhim a king, the king of German rivers. A king more or less mattered very\nlittle to a people who made and unmade kings at will.\n\nThe Rhine was evidently flattered by the distinction; and he laid aside\nhis long cherished wrath.\n\nHe had already allowed Jupiter to cross, taking {107}him perhaps for\nEsus; he now carefully examined the passports and certificates of good\nconduct of several other gods, and left the way open for Apollo and\nMinerva, Diana and some deities of fair repute; but when he saw Bacchus,\nhis anger was rekindled. What? Were not the Germans mad and quarrelsome\nenough, when they had only taken too much beer? How could he consent to\nallow their passions to be aroused by potent wine? He was king, and as\nsuch bound to keep this scourge from his people.\n\n[Illustration: 127]\n\nThe gods whom he had allowed to cross endeavored to plead for the son of\nSemele,--but he remained inexorable. His severity relaxed, however, when\nthe vines planted by order of the Emperor {108}Probus in parts of the\nRheingau, began to adorn the banks of the river with their verdure--he\nwas overcome, when he had once tasted the juice of the grape. He\nconsented to let Bacchus pass from bank to bank, but only at the time of\nthe vintage.\n\n[Illustration: 0128]\n\nOnce admitted, Bacchus soon brought into the land the whole crowd of\ngods and goddesses, who made up his following and who enjoyed no great\nreputation in Rome and in Greece. The Rhine {109}became angry once more,\nbut once more caresses and unexpected honors had their hoped-for effect.\nHe was already a king; he now became a god.\n\n[Illustration: 129]\n\nHenceforth Father Rhine conceived a strong affection for his former\nadversaries. When he saw that the German bank had adopted the customs\nand the religion of the conquerors as fully as the Celtic bank, he\nabandoned completely his restrictive policy and did his best to help\neverybody across. Thus Jupiter was no sooner installed in Germany, than\nhe summoned his Corybantes; Bacchus his Bacchantes and his Maenads,\nDiana {110}her hunting nymphs, Venus her whole court of lascivious\npriestesses; the Dryads and the Hamadryads, the Naiads and the Tritons,\nthe Fauns and the S il vans, all came one by one. It was a perfect\ninvasion.\n\n[Illustration: 130]\n\nGermany, grave and solemn as she was, felt not a little troubled by this\nwholesale irruption of frivolous {111}and ill-mannered deities, who so\nlittle agreed with her austere habits. The young, it is true, were more\neasily Romanized and readily caught at this poetical personification of\nall the forces of Nature; but the old, the chieftains, and above all the\nDruids, backed by a nearly unanimous people, asked each other what could\nbe the meaning of this sudden enthusiasm for new gods, this half mad\ndevotion to celestial clowns?\n\nNo one, however, dared to raise a hand; the Teutons had lost their\nformer energy, they were enfeebled, unnerved and exhausted by their long\nbut useless resistance. Hence, like true cowards, they appeared in the\npagan temples, in order to conciliate the good-will of the conquerors,\nand then, to pacify their consciences, they hastened to some dark forest\nand there with anxious eyes and disturbed minds, they offered in fear\nand trembling their fervent worship to the sacred oak.\n\nThe Roman gods were soon to encounter far more formidable adversaries\nelsewhere.\n\nFar beyond Germany, as we find it described and limited by geographers,\nthere lived a host of nations, scattered over a vast territory, and\nextending as far East as the shores of the Caspian Sea. The Romans\nhad never penetrated far into these unknown depths, which sent forth\nincessantly new armies of soldiers whom they classed indiscriminately\n{112}under the vague and collective name of Hyperboreans. Such were\nthe Huns, the Scythians, the Goths, the Slaves (Poles, Danes, Swedes,\nRussians, and Norwegians), all of them robbers and pirates. Some, under\nthe name of Cimbrians, had joined the Teutons t and with them invaded\nGaul and even Italy, till they encountered the armies of Marius; others,\nwere about to cross the Pyrenees and to fall upon Spain. Among them all,\nthe Scandinavians were by far the most powerful, intrepid soldiers and\nfearless sailors, who were soon to darken the waters of the Rhine\nwith their countless vessels, and to make Charlemagne shed tears as he\nthought of the days to come.\n\nEre long these dauntless pirates will actually enter the Loire, then\neven the Seine; they will besiege Paris, and finally, thanks to the\nable statesmanship of King Charles, whom they call the Simple, they will\nbecome. Christians, after a fashion, and under the name of Normans take\npossession of one of the fairest provinces of France. Then they will\ncultivate the soil which they had heretofore robbed of its produce, they\nwill drink beer instead of cider, they will peacefully devote themselves\nto lawsuits and cattle-raising, and will end by wearing white cotton\nnight-caps--after having destroyed Rome and conquered England twice.\n\nThe Scandinavians, of Celtic origin like the {113}Gauls and the Germans,\nled at first both nomadic and sedentary lives and were rather barbarous\nthan unpolished; but they built cities and erected temples, in which\nthey worshipped Odin the One-Eyed.\n\n[Illustration: 133]\n\nIf the harvest failed, or whenever the first warmth of spring aroused\nin them their innate fondness of vagabondage and war, they took to their\nboats or mounted their horses, and the stupefied nations {114}of Europe\nwatched the horizon and listened along the river courses, to distinguish\nwhether this great Northern tempest, this storm of iron and fire, of\nblood and of tears, was rushing down upon them by land or by sea.\n\nAfter having crossed Germany in all directions, some of these bands,\nor rather some remnants of such bands, settled from inclination or from\nnecessity, in certain portions of the country, especially on the islands\nin the Main, the Weser, and the Neckar. Their priests soon made numerous\nconverts among the neighbors to the faith of Odin. The Germans paid\nlittle heed to the difference between Odin and Teut. The two names\ndesignated, for them, one and the same god, the one god of the Celts.\n\nThe increasing influence of these Druids of the third epoch led,\nhowever, naturally to some opposition. The German priests accused them\nof being too profuse in the shedding of blood, and of having given their\ngod Odin a companion in a certain god Thor, fond of overcoming giants,\nand of having thus destroyed the true nature of the original creed,\nwhich knew but one God.\n\nA schism was about to divide the Druidical church, when the arrival of\nthe Roman deities brought the two opposite parties once more together.\nEach yielded somewhat; {115}they came to an understanding and finally\njoined hands in a conspiracy.\n\n[Illustration: 135]\n\n{117}The Scandinavian Druids, forsaking the prudent reserve which they\nhad so far scrupulously observed, declared that, in order to triumph\nover the Roman Olympians, Odin had not only the assistance of his\nall-powerful son Thor, but could, if he chose, summon an escort of gods\nat least as imposing in numbers as that of Jupiter himself.\n\nThe German Druids veiled their faces, but the people and the whole party\nwhich was opposed to Jupiter the wicked, and to Venus the shameless,\njoyfully accepted the proposition. However cruel the Scandinavian ritual\nappeared with its increased number of victims who had to be offered to\nthe new gods, it seemed to them better still to worship Terror than to\nworship disgraceful Voluptuousness. They acknowledged Odin and his son\nThor, and impatiently waited for the arrival of the others.\n\nThe German Druids gave way, hoping perhaps that the two hosts of deities\nwould erelong fall out among themselves and soon destroy each other.\n\nFather Rhine, in his equal affection for all his brother gods, was\nfar too good-natured to take this admission of new deities amiss, and\npromptly went northward, to the most hyperborean regions of snow and\nice, in search of the newly chosen gods.\n\nThe two parties soon met face to face. {118}It is our solemn duty to\nexplain fully the whole curious system of Scandinavian gods. We shall\nsee that here, as in all that we shall have to add, legends, myths, and\ntraditions abound in such numbers that they can be had for the asking.\n\n[Illustration: 141]\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\n{121}_The World before and since Odin.--Birth of Ymer.--The Giants of\nthe Frost.--A Log split in Two.--The First Man and the First Woman--The\nTree Ygdrasil and its Menagerie.--Thor\u2019s Three Jewels. Freyr\u2019s Enchanted\nSwoj\u2019d.--A Souvenir of the National Guard of Bellville.--The Story of\nKvasir and the Two Dwarfs.--Honey and Blood.--Invocation._\n\nThe world was not born.\n\nThick mists, unbroken by light, unbounded in limit, filled space.\n\nAfter a long period of darkness, silence, and perfect repose, a faint\nlight is seen, vague and uncertain, hardly deserving the name; something\nis moving unsteadily in this night. The giant Ymer has been born\nspontaneously out of the mixture {122}and assimilation of these closely\ncompressed mists, which sudden and severe frost has condensated.\n\nAt that time men of science had not yet discussed the question of\nspontaneous generation; not one academy made mention of the subject.\n\nYmer, the sole inhabitant, the Robinson Crusoe of this world of\ndarkness, became tired of his solitude. Guessing how he had been born\nhimself, he gathered the mists that surrounded him, piled them one upon\nthe other, shaped them into a form resembling his own, and once more the\nNorth wind came and solidified the mists. As he was a giant, he\ncreated giants; he also created mountains, no doubt for the purpose of\nfurnishing seats for these giants, for the highest among them did not\nreach up to their belts. This does not mean, that these mountains were\nless high than they are nowadays, but the sons of Ymer were of such size\nthat without bending down a little, they could not have rested their\nelbows on the summit of Chimborazo, and what is more marvelous still,\nYmer himself not only was taller than every one of his sons, but taller\nthan all of his sons together, standing one upon the shoulders of the\nother! When he stretched himself out full length, the Alps might have\nserved him as a pillow, while his feet would have rested on {123}Mount\nCaucasus.\n\n[Illustration: 143]\n\n{125}In order to produce such giants and such mountains, he had, of\ncourse, to consume large quantities of the material furnished by the\nchaos of mists; the remainder of this gaseous substance, trembling in\nvacant space and losing its balance, fell back into the depths of the\nvalleys, and formed the ocean.\n\nSome few animals began soon to stir in the waters, and on the shores\nof that vast sea; sphinxes and dragons, hydras and griffins, kraken\nand leviathans, all creatures of a low order, but in their proportions\nadapted to this colossal world, this world of the infinitely great, and\nno doubt related in some manner to the antediluvian families of mammoths\nand pterodactyls, of ichthyosauri and plesiosauri.\n\nA god of the first race, a creator without being created, Ymer naturally\ndid not possess that skill and that cleverness which can only be\nacquired by long experience. However strange, therefore, it may appear,\nhowever inexplicable, the fact is, that this world, fresh with new\nlife and freed from the original mists, was nevertheless covered with\ndarkness. The only light which existed was an occasional phosphorescence\nof the sea or a few flashes of electric light, such as an aurora\nborealis sends forth; and this faint glimmer alone illumined the pathway\nof those vast creatures, those monstrous {126}reptiles, who, dazzled for\nan instant, plunged back into the lowest depths of the waters, casting\nup huge waves and tall columns of spray.\n\nIt must have been a peculiarly curious sight, certainly, to see those\nGiants of the Frost, as they were called, wandering, through the\ndarkness across the boundless plains and along endless shores, under a\nsky without light, looking for each other from one end of the world to\nthe other. To be sure, they could accomplish the journey in a few long\nstrides, and if they were peculiarly anxious to see each other, face\nto face, they had only to wait for the chance of a momentary flash or a\nfaint twilight glimmer.\n\nThe sight was no doubt curious, but there was no one to behold it.\n\nThis state of things could not last long. With a new god a new world\nalso came into existence. This new god was very different from the\nfirst, it was Light itself, condensed at the southern extremity of the\nheavens, far from this earth inhabited by giants.\n\nOne fine day--an unlucky day for them, however--these giants noticed\nthat the sky above their heads was suddenly assuming a faint pinkish\nhue, then violet, and finally purple. At this they rejoiced. But\nsuddenly a ball of fire appeared, and they were terrified. It was Odin,\nOdin followed {127}by his celestial family, which consisted at least of\na dozen principal deities!\n\n[Illustration: 147]\n\nBut no! no! I take it back! I rebel! No one can come in contact\nwith these ancient myths, without knocking against some principle of\nastronomy. Astronomers find only seven principal deities in Scandinavian\nmythology, when they are called upon to transform them into planets, and\ntwelve, when the question is about the signs of the Zodiac. That seems\nto me to make mythology a. little too easy. Does it not look as if the\nfirst men had been born with a telescope and a compass in their pocket,\nand as if they had erected an observatory long before they thought of\nbuilding huts for themselves?\n\nFortunately I am not bound to follow their footsteps.\n\nCertain historians of high authority have found out that Odin lived\nupon earth before he came to dwell in heaven. He was an illustrious\nconqueror, {128}very expert at killing men, one of those scourges of\nGod, who fall upon nations in order to break them to pieces. As a matter\nof course, these nations deified him after his death.\n\n[Illustration: 148]\n\nI see nothing astronomical in all this.\n\nHence, I return to my own method, and propose to describe him, as he\nappeared to his Druids, his Scalds, and his worshippers.\n\n[Illustration: 149]\n\nHe arrived from the southern countries, no doubt from the Orient,\nbringing with him the sun, as an indispensable auxiliary in the\ngreat task{129} which {131}he had undertaken, to reform this dark and\nice-covered world: \u201cFor there was a time,\u201d says the Edda, the bible of\nthe Scandinavians, \u201cwhen the sun, the moon, and the stars did not know\nthe place they were to occupy. It was then the gods assembled and agreed\nas to the post which was to be assigned to each one of them.\u201d\n\nWhen the installation of the heavenly bodies had thus been agreed upon,\nOdin followed the example of all the Hercules of Egypt and of Greece,\nand began his benevolent career by freeing the earth of all the monsters\nby which it was infested. Ymer was the first to succumb to his blows,\nand after him, the other giants of the frost, \u201ca race of evildoers,\u201d\n adds the Edda. Evildoers? Whom did they aggrieve, I wonder? The\ncomplainants must have been the kraken, the griffins, and the serpents.\n\nThe world had hardly come into existence and already the right of the\nstronger had established the doctrine: _V\u00e6 victis!_\n\nOf all the giants of the frost a single one escaped. He must have been a\nmarried man, for his descendants became after a while so numerous as\nto trouble the Ases, that is to say, Odin and his companions, the other\ngods.\n\nAfter the giants, came the turn of land and sea monsters, who were\nalmost as formidable as they themselves. In the general destruction two\nmonsters {132}only survived: the wolf Fenris, with his fearful jaws,\nwhich enabled him to crush mountains and even to injure the sun, and the\nserpent Iormungandur, the great sea serpent of world-wide renown. Both\nthese monsters were one day to aid the giants of the frost in avenging\nthemselves on their conqueror.\n\n[Illustration: 152]\n\nOdin thought he had now nothing more to fear, and returned to the realms\nof light, there to enjoy his glory in peace and to revel in the delights\nof Walhalla.\n\n{133}One morning he came down to see how the world was coming on since\nhe had reorganized it, and he found to his great joy, that the new\ncreation was assuming a more pleasing appearance. Grass was growing in\nthe plains, on the slopes of hills, and even at the bottom of the rivers\nand the sea; here and there trees of varied forms and shapes arose\nand gave variety to the monotonous horizon; some, crowding together in\ngroups on the mountain side, seemed to whisper confidentially to each\nother, as the breeze was lightly agitating their foliage, while others\nstood together in countless hosts, stretching away over hill and dale\nas far as eye could reach, but silent and immovable, like an army which\nremains motionless, while the chiefs are deliberating.\n\n[Illustration: 153]\n\nBehind the green curtain of forests, deer, eland, and aurochs were\nbounding in herds, now and then showing their beautiful horns or\ntheir dark bushy brows at the opening of some clearing; goats were\n{134}climbing about on the rocks and venturing close to the brink of\nprecipices; birds were singing in the groves, now swinging playfully on\nthe supple branches of willows, and now darting suddenly on swift wings\nthrough the air; fish were gliding silently under the surface of the\nwaters, which reflected their silvery sheen or broke in soft ripples,\nwhile butterflies and insects were sporting and buzzing around beautiful\nflowers.\n\nOdin smiled; the artist was pleased with his work.\n\nBut were animals, impelled by natural instincts only and exclusively\noccupied with the desire to satisfy their coarse wants, were such\nanimals worthy to be the sole owners of such a charming abode?\n\nIt occurred to him to invent a being which, without participating in the\ndivine essence, might still rise high above all other creatures. This\ntime the divine artist wanted a spectator, to witness his work, to\nappreciate it intelligently, and afterwards to profit by it for some\ngood purpose.\n\nHe was meditating on it during a walk on the sea-shore, when a piece of\nwood, a fragment of a huge branch of a tree which the wind had broken\noff, attracted his attention. It had evidently fallen into a river,\nwhich had carried it out into the high sea, and there it had been beaten\nand bruised by {135}ebb and tide. He drew this poor shapeless stick of\nwood towards him, split it in two and made out of it a man and a woman.\n\n\u201cDo you hear? Do you understand?\u201d Asks the Edda, at this point.\n\nNow, what is this intended to convey to us? That man, exposed to the\ncaprices of the elements, is nothing but a poor plaything in the hands\nof Fate? Very well, let us admit this explanation. But can the sacred\nbook of the Scandinavians really presume to teach us that the origin of\nmankind must be looked for in two sticks of wood? We cannot but think\nthat that would be a sorry jest, alike unworthy of the general solemnity\nof the Edda and of the mysterious majesty of ancient cosmogonies.\n\nBesides, we ought not to forget that all the Northern nations attributed\na divine character to trees; if in Germany the oak was held sacred, the\nhyperboreans held the ash tree in great respect, and the question is\nonly whether our first father was made of the wood of an ash tree, an\noak, or a willow.\n\nThis leads us naturally to the consideration of the ash _Ygdrasil_ and\nits curious population of gods, birds, and quadrupeds.\n\nThe branches of this marvelous tree spread over the whole surface of the\nearth; its top supported {136}the Walhalla and rose is to the uppermost\nheavens, while its roots penetrated to the very bottom of hell. Under\nits shadow dwell Odin and his Ases, when the government of the world\nrequires his presence, or some important question has to be decided.\n\n[Illustration: 156]\n\nTwo swift winged ravens are incessantly flying to and fro in the\nUniverse, to see what is going on; then they come and perch, one on his\nleft and one on his right shoulder, and whisper into his ear the news\nof the day. A squirrel, as swift in its movements as the two ravens,\nis perpetually running up and down the tree. If you doubt my word, hear\nwhat the poet says:--\n\n     .... The fearful Odin Was seated beneath the ancient ash,\n     The sacred tree whose immortal brow\n     Rises and touches the vault of heaven.\n     {137}On the top an eagle with eager eyes,\n     With piercing eyes, with ever open eyes,\n     Takes in the whole Universe in a single glance.\n     Odin receives his swift messages.\n     Incessantly a tiny squirrel\n     Comes and goes; the god\u2019s voice cheers it onward.\n     All at once it dashes from the trunk to the top\n     And in an instant it returns again\n     From the top to the trunk. Odin, when it comes,\n     Turns an attentive ear to the squirrel.....\n\nBut the poet does not tell the whole story.\n\n[Illustration: 157]\n\nTo act as a check upon the reports of the eagle, the ravens, and the\nsquirrel, a vulture is perching {138}upon the loftiest top of the sacred\ntree, who looks over all the horizons of the earth and the universe,\nwatching for the slightest stir and giving notice of any important event\nby his cries or the flapping of his wings.\n\nStill other animals, however, inhabit the great ash tree Ygdrasil. Some\nof these play a sinister part in the great menagerie; they are hideous\nreptiles, half concealed in the slimy marshes into which one of the\nroots of the tree finds its way, and ever striving to pour their\nvenom into the mire; beneath another root a dragon is crouching, who\nconstantly gnaws at it, and four starving deer, rushing through its\nbranches, forever devour its foliage.\n\n\u201cDo you hear? Do you understand?\u201d asks the Edda once more.\n\nFor the present we do not presume to interpret these descriptions,\nand before we attempt to penetrate into these dark mysteries, we will\nmention the principal chiefs among the Ases.\n\nThe mystic marriage of Odin and Frigg resulted in the god Thor, who\nis held in equal veneration with his father. As his duty is to carry\nthunder and lightning, it is he who shakes the earth whenever he drives\nthrough the clouds in his car drawn by two goats and producing a noise\nrepresented by the words: \u201c_Pumerle pump! Ptimerle pump! Pliz! Pluz!\nSchmi! Schmur! Tarantara! Tarantara!_\u201d. {139}This onomatopoetic\ntranslation of the flashing of lightning and the rolling of thunder,\nis not my own; it comes directly from Dr. Martin Luther, the great\nReformer.\n\nThor is also engaged in pursuing and destroying the giants of the\nmountains, degenerate children of the giants of the frost, in size at\nleast. At a later period we shall meet with giants of still smaller\ndimensions. Alas! that here below everything that is great and strong\nhas a tendency to decrease steadily!\n\n[Illustration: 159]\n\nFor this war against the giants Odin has bestowed upon his son three\nprecious objects, which in the inventory of the Ases appear under the\nname of _Thor\u2019s Three Jewels._ The first is his weighty hammer.\n\n_Mjo\u00efner_ (some people call it his club), which goes forth by itself to\nmeet giants and crushes their heads. One of the commentators upon the\nEdda professes to see in the giants of the mountains nothing but the\nmountains themselves, and in the hammer Mjo\u00efner, nothing but lightning,\nwhich generally strikes their summit. We must evidently {140}put as\nlittle faith in commentators as in astronomers.\n\nThe second of Thor\u2019s jewels was a pair of iron gloves. As soon as he\nputs them on, his spear no sooner reaches the point at which it is\naimed, than it returns to his hand, precisely as the falcon comes back\nto the keeper\u2019s gauntlet, after having destroyed its victim.\n\nThe third jewel of Thor is his war belt; when he puts it on, his\nstrength is twice as great as before; in fact, he becomes irresistible\nand would overthrow the great Odin himself. But Odin has nothing to fear\non his part, for in spite of his brutal and passionate temper, Thor is\nalways an obedient and submissive son.\n\nAsa-Thor, that is to say, the Lord Thor, was most highly respected\namong men as the redhaired master of thunder and lightning, and as\nthe destroyer of giants; and he was also greatly feared as an active,\nblustering god, of a troublesome, turbulent temper and of somewhat\neccentric manners.\n\nAnother weapon, at least as marvelous as Asa-Thor\u2019s famous hammer, was\nthe sword of the god Freyr. This sword was endowed with an intelligence\nvery rarely to be met with among swords, and punctually obeyed the\norders of its master. Even in his absence, it went promptly and\nfaithfully {141}to carry out his orders, striking here and there at a\ngiven point, or making terrible havoc in the midst of a battle, without\na hand at the hilt to direct its mortal blows.\n\n[Illustration: 161]\n\nThe good Freyr, as pacific a god as ever lived, was quite indifferent\nto battles and fights; hence he gave his orders quietly to his faithful\nsword, while he remained comfortably seated at Odin\u2019s table, enjoying\nhis strong beer and the rarest wines.\n\nI cannot help wishing that they might have known the art of\nmanufacturing guns after this system, at the time when I was a\nlieutenant in the Belleville National Guard. It would have been so\npleasant to see a rifle move gravely to and fro, quite alone, in front\nof the City Hall and the Guard House; or to meet a patrol of four\n{142}guns, accompanied by a corporal, but a flesh and blood corporal to\ncry out: Who is there?\n\n[Illustration: 162]\n\nIn the meantime the happy owners of these improved weapons might have\nbeen sitting, not at Odin\u2019s table, but at the nearest coffee house or\nrestaurant, {143}drinking beer or wine just like the Scandinavian gods.\n\nUnfortunately our manufacturers of arms have not yet reached that degree\nof skill, which our forefathers seem to have possessed, and thus I have\nnever yet been able to enjoy such a sight.\n\nThe happy owner of this magic weapon, Freyr, presided over the general\nadministration of the clouds; it was he who made fine weather or rain,\na very troublesome office, which must have exposed him to countless\npetitions and most contradictory prayers.\n\nHis sister Freya, afterwards called Frigg, was Odin\u2019s wife and the\nmost honored goddess on earth as well as in heaven. She inspired and\nprotected lovers, and very different from her sister in Greece, this\nNorthern Venus enjoyed an unsullied reputation.\n\nThey say that once, when her husband had gone away on a long journey,\nshe was so deeply grieved at his absence, that her tears ran day and\nnight incessantly; these tears, however, differed from those of mortal\nbeings; \u201cthey were all drops of gold which fell into her bosom,\u201d--and\nhence the Northern people call the precious metal to this day _Freyas\ntears_.\n\nOne only among all the dwellers in Walhalla had been able to give her\nsome comfort by singing {144}his sweetest songs; this was the god Bragi,\nthe god of poetry and beautiful words.\n\nA tradition which deserves to be mentioned here, accounts for the manner\nin which he obtained this precious gift of eloquence and the art of\npoetry.\n\nIn the early days of the world, when the creating god had concentrated,\nso to say, all the active powers of humanity in a few individuals,\nand when a long life permitted these favored beings to carry on their\nstudies till they reached a happy end, there lived on earth a wise man\nwho possessed an art unknown, not among men only, but among the gods\nthemselves. This was the art of perpetuating thoughts by word-painting,\nof reproducing them in outward forms, not to the eye by colors, but\nto the ear by sounds. This sage was called Kvasir. He had invented the\n_Runes_, the art of poetry, and the no less precious art of reproducing\nwords and fixing them in writing. He cut his runes on beech tablets; if\nhe had gone a step farther, he would have invented printing long before\nGuttenberg.\n\nKvasir was then the sole owner of the art of Poetry.\n\nTwo wicked dwarfs prowling about in search of treasures, took it into\ntheir heads, that the treasure of Poetry was better than any other, and\nforthwith determined to obtain possession of it. They killed Kvasir,\ninto whose dwelling they had crept by {145}stealth, and as they were\nmasters in magic, like all the dwarfs of those days, they carefully\ncollected his blood, and mixing it, in different proportions, with\nhoney, put it into three vessels, which they closed hermetically. These\nthree vessels contained respectively Logic, Eloquence, and Poetry. To\nkeep them safe till the day on which they should be used, they buried\nthem in the depths of a cave which was inaccessible to men and unknown\nto the gods themselves. But one of those travelling agents, who under\nthe form of ravens, were continually wandering over the world in Odin\u2019s\nemploy, had been a silent witness of the transactions, the murder, the\nmixing, and the hiding of the three vessels. He returned instantly to\nthe ash Ygdrasil and reported it all to his master. The god gave his\norders, which the squirrel, no doubt, at once carried to the eagle, and\nthe latter, who was continually on the watch on the top of the sacred\ntree, left his post for a few moments in charge of the vulture, and flew\nwith rapid wings to the cave, from whence he returned laden with the\nthree precious vessels. It is to be supposed that he carried one in his\nbeak, and the two others, one in each of his claws.\n\nHe placed the mysterious vessels at Odin\u2019s feet and at once returned to\nrelieve the vulture and to resume his watch.\n\nOdin opened first the vessel which contained {146}Poetry and tasted the\ncontents. From that moment he never spoke otherwise than in verse.\nHe also tasted Logic, and henceforth he spoke and reasoned with such\nextreme accuracy, that he found no one to agree with him any longer; he\ntasted Eloquence, and as soon as he opened his lips, he might have been\nmistaken for one of our own most eminent lawyers. Gold chains seemed to\ncome out from his lips, as was the case with Ogmius, with which he bound\nthe ears and hearts of all his hearers.\n\nWhilst he was thus enjoying himself, Bragi his son, and Saga his\ndaughter, who were sitting by him, felt their mouths water and looked\nimploringly at him.\n\nSetting aside the terror with which the Druids have surrounded Odin, he\nseems to have been occasionally good-natured, and certainly always acted\nlike a kind father. He offered the vessel with Poetry first to Saga,\ncourteously giving her the preference on account of her sex. She barely\ntouched it with her lips. When Bragi\u2019s turn came, he eagerly swallowed\nas much as he could, and without taking time to gather breath, he began\na grand triumphal chant in honor of the feasts, the loves, the wars, and\nthe greatness of the gods, the stars of the firmament, paradise, hell,\nand the ash Ygdrasil. {147}\n\n[Illustration: 167]\n\n{149}In well chosen cadences he imitated the clanking of cups, the\ncooing of doves and of lovers, the tumult of battles, the harmonies of\nthe celestial spheres, and all this with such energy, such fire and\nsuch grace by turns, that Odin was enchanted, and having become a master\nhimself about five minutes ago, on the spot changed his name of the\nLong-bearded God, which he had borne so far, to that of the God of\nPoetry. Moreover, he entrusted to his keeping the threefold treasure\nwhich had been taken from Kvasir\u2019s murderers.\n\nThis was that god Bragi who alone succeeded in comforting the beautiful\nand inconsolable Freya in her great grief.\n\nThrough him the Druids were instructed in the art of verse; to him is\ndue that terrible Scandinavian poetry, which contains, according to\nOzanam, quite as much blood as honey.\n\nAs to Saga, she became the goddess of Tradition. \u201cThe heart of history\nis in tradition,\u201d says a master, a sage, and a poet.\n\nGood goddess Saga, your lips, I know, never touched the vessel\ncontaining Eloquence, nor that which held Logic, far from it! And still\nI count upon you to support me in carrying out my work, which I have\nperhaps imprudently begun; for I begin to be overwhelmed with materials,\nthe subject is a very grave one, and, in spite of the good advice of my\nlearned doctor and the assistance of my two charming lady-companions,\ntime and strength threaten not to suffice. Therefore I beseech you as\nwell as my readers, to grant me a short repose, before I proceed any\nfarther on my journey through Odin\u2019s fantastic world.\n\n[Illustration: 170]\n\n[Illustration: 173]\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\n{153}Short Biographies.--_A Clairvoyant among the Gods.--A Bright\nGod.--Tyr and the Wolf Fenris.--The Hospital at the Walhalla.--Why was\nOdin one-eyed?--The Three Norns.--Mimer the Sage.--A Goddess the Mother\nof Four Oxen.--The Love Affairs of Heimdall, the God with the Golden\nTeeth._\n\nWe have no intention of giving here a complete list of the numerous\ndeities of the North. We will only mention Hermode, Odin\u2019s messenger and\nman of business; Forseti, the peacemaker; Widar, the god of silence,\na dumb person who only walks on air, as if he were afraid to hear\nthe noise of his own footsteps; Vali, the skilfull archer; Uller, the\nexcellent skater, who taught the giant Tialff his art, in spite of what\nthe poet Klopstock says to the contrary; Hoder, a mysterious deity,\nwhose name must never be uttered by any one in heaven or on earth. Why\nnot? Odin alone knows the reason.\n\nLet us also mention Heimdall, with the golden teeth. A son of Odin, he\nhad nine mothers--eight more than had ever been known before him. He\nis the guardian of Walhalla, and his duty is to watch lest the giants\nshould one fine day attempt to storm the heavenly abode by means of the\nBifrost bridge, that is, the rainbow. But the gods can sleep in peace;\nneither the eagle nor the ravens on the ash Ygdrasil can surpass\nHeimdall in vigilance. The senses of sight and hearing are in him\ndeveloped to a perfectly marvelous degree; he can hear the grass grow in\nthe meadows and the wool grow on the back of the sheep. From one end of\nthe world he sees a fly pass through the air at the other end, and, more\nthan that, he sees distinctly the different joints in its feet and the\nblack or brown spots with which its wings are {155}dotted. In the midst\nof the darkest night and at the bottom of the sea where it is deepest,\nhe sees an atom moving and watches the marriage of monads. There is\nnothing in the whole universe hid from him.\n\nBut why should this god Heimdall have golden teeth, after a fashion of\nsome of the natives of Sunda? Odin alone knows the reason.\n\nAmong all these gods Balder is the most richly endowed, the best, the\nhandsomest and the most virtuous--Balder, the Bright God, by eminence.\nAlthough the son of Odin and Frigg, he might be taken for a son of\nFreya, on account of his strong resemblance to Love itself, not to the\nturbulent, passionate, and capricious Love of the Greeks, but to Love\nin the widest and noblest sense of the word,--Love, in fine, in its\nChristian meaning. Balder represents that universal goodness, loyalty,\naffection, and harmony, which binds all beings to each other; Bragi, the\npoet is his brother; Forseti, the peacemaker, is his son. But we shall\nbut too soon have to return to him on a most melancholy occasion.\n\nIn spite of our desire to close this already too numerous list, we\ncannot well pass over in silence that poor Tyr, the very type of\nintrepidity and loyalty, who fell a victim to his own prowess and to his\nimprudent confidence in the other gods. {156}The latter, having one day\nmet the wolf Fenris, invited him to enjoy a good meal with them. The\nwolf, always voraciously hungry, listened to the proposal. Then the\nAses, pretending to fear that he might play them an ugly trick on the\nway home, insisted upon leading him by a chain around his neck, pledging\ntheir word as gods, however, that they would set him free upon going to\ntable.\n\n[Illustration: 176]\n\nFenris, suspicious as all wolves, in fact, as all wicked creatures are,\nconsented to be bound, but made it a condition that as a proof of the\ngood faith of the Ases, one of them should put his hand into his mouth.\nTyr agreed to do so without hesitation, not expecting that personages of\nsuch lofty position could possibly be faithless. The gods, {157}however,\ndid behave faithlessly and kept Fenris a prisoner, whereupon the wolf\nclaimed the fulfillment of the pledge, and when Tyr put his hand into\nhis mouth, coolly bit it off up to the wrist. Hence that particular\njoint has ever since been called _the wolf\u2019s joint_, in memory of this\ninartistic amputation.\n\nThus the gods had a one-handed brother among them, after having long\nbeen presided over by a one-eyed god. But Tyr and Odin were by no means\nthe only gods who labored under such an infirmity. Heimdall with the\ngolden teeth must evidently have had a set of false teeth; Widar, the\ngod of silence, was dumb, and Hoder, that mysterious being whose name\nmust not be pronounced by any one, was blind. There was also a certain\ngod, called Herblinde, who was not only blind but--actually dead! We\npoor mortals generally imagine that death includes blindness as a matter\nof course, but it was not so, apparently, among these mystic personages.\nHerblinde, for instance, was quite blind, although he was quite dead\nalso, and yet he attended the meetings of the gods and even had a vote\nin their counsels. Do you understand that? I do not, I am sure.\n\nAnd this grand council, this hospital of the Walhalla, which counted\namong its members a onehanded and a dumb god, a toothless and two blind\n{158}gods, was, as I said, presided over by one-eyed Odin! This fact\nrecalls forcibly the old proverb: Among the blind the one-eyed is king.\n\nBut why had Odin but one eye?\n\nFortunately I am able, for once, to give an answer to this question.\n\nAstronomers have naturally found a reply to this Why? in their\nimperturbable system of sidereal interpretations. Odin was the sun-god;\nthe sun was the eye of Nature, Nature had but one eye--consequently\nOdin was bound to be born one-eyed!.... Now you see why your daughter is\ndeaf-mute.\n\nThe Edda, however, gives a different account of the matter, and I feel\nbound to adopt this explanation, as it is founded upon a knowledge of\nthe most secret mysteries.\n\nOdin had two eyes when he was born, and the sun was nothing more than\nhis travelling companion, when he came from the far East, to revive and\nwarm the earth which had so long been in the hands of\u2019 the giants of the\nfrost.\n\nSeveral centuries after he had created man, he was one day walking up\nand down in the lower parts of his great ash tree Ygdrasil, and thinking\nof the greatly increased responsibility which rested upon him since he\nhad added the government of the earth to that of heaven, and since the\nearth {159}had begun to be peopled with a multitude of races. He was\nasking himself whether the knowledge of all things had been revealed\nto him fully enough to enable him satisfactorily to fill, his two great\noffices. He had quaffed ample draughts by turns from the three vessels\nof Kvasir, but Eloquence, Poetry, and even Logic do not supply Wisdom.\n\n[Illustration: 179]\n\nAs he passed by a large tank fed by a purling brook, he saw three\nbeautiful swans swimming merrily about in it, who after having examined\nhim with half thoughtful, half mocking attention, twisted their long\nflexible necks in strange contortions and then seemed to converse with\neach other by significative glances.\n\nHe spoke to them and asked them if they possessed the secret of Wisdom.\n\nThe swans suddenly plunged beneath the surface, {160}and in their place\nthere appeared three beautiful women, representing three different\nstages of life.\n\nThey were the Norns.\n\n[Illustration: 180]\n\nThe first, called Urda, knew the Past; the second, called Verandi, saw\nthe Present unfold itself before her eyes, hour by hour and minute by\nminute, and when to-day had become yesterday, her older sister gathered\nup the departed day and entered it on her record. Finally Skulda, the\nthird, the Norn of the Future, enjoyed the privilege of beholding with\nher far-seeing eyes the germs of all future events and of being able to\nforetell with unerring accuracy the date and the consequences of their\noccurrence.\n\nLet us pause here a moment to notice a remark communicated to me by the\namiable and learned {161}Dr. Rosalh, which may not be without interest\nto some of my readers.\n\nIt will be remembered that the Romans had at first pretended to\nrecognize in these three Norns their own three Fates, probably because\nthey were three and because they were women; at least I can see no other\nreason. Urda, Verandi, and Skulda were as beautiful and as graceful\nas the three Parc\u00e6--Alecto, Lachesis, and Atropos--were ugly. Besides,\ntheir duties were entirely different. The Norns knew the fate of men,\nbut they were utterly unable to lengthen human life. Such at least is\nthe opinion of the great Holinshed in his Chronicles. Warburton sees\nin them nothing more than Valkyrias, but, what is far more astonishing,\nShakespeare chose these three beautiful prophetic virgins, to furnish\nthe three hideous, unclean, and toothless witches, the weird sisters,\nwho called out to Macbeth, \u201cAll hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king\nhereafter!\u201d\n\nShakespeare had evidently taken the curse denounced by the Church\nagainst the ancient deities in its literal meaning.\n\nOdin had a better opinion of the three sisters; he conversed for some\ntime with them, and afterwards came frequently back to visit them. It\nwas thus and by their aid that he gained experience.\n\nBut even Experience, added to the precious gifts {162}of Eloquence,\nPoetry, and Logic, is not able to supply Wisdom.\n\n[Illustration: 182]\n\nHe took counsel with the Norns, and in his anxiety to possess this most\nprecious of all gifts, he expressed his willingness to exchange for it,\nif needs be, his treasures of poetry and of eloquence, his magic armor\nwhich made him safe against all danger, his horse Sleipner, which had\neight legs and crossed the air with the rapidity of lightning, his eagle\nand his vulture, his squirrel and his two {163}ravens. Then he went to\nMimer, the wisest man in existence, the successor of old Kvasir, and\nattended his lectures like the most humble and zealous of students. When\nhe had mastered the subject, and felt that he had acquired Wisdom at\nlast, he paid the philosopher liberally by giving him one of his own\neyes, in order thus to show him the high value he set upon the service\nwhich had been rendered to him by Mimer.\n\nThis was the reason why Odin was one-eyed. The truth is far too\nhonorable to the god to be hid under idle astronomical pretexts.\n\nNow, what use did he make of his wisdom?\n\nHe began by regulating the government of heaven. The Ases had until now\nlived very much as they chose; he now gave to each of them a duty to\nperform: to Niord the management of rivers and of fishing; to Egir, the\nseas and navigation; and so to others, requiring regularity and accuracy\nof all, but sternly prohibiting the display of extreme zeal, just as\nTalleyrand used to do with his diplomatic apprentices.\n\nThen he turned to the earth.\n\nHere men had multiplied incessantly, and with their numbers their wants\nhad increased, and alas! with these, their vices also! In order to\nsatisfy the wants and to repress the vices, they had established among\nthem that great, primitive law which {164}constitutes the whole code of\nlaws among barbarians--the right of the stronger.\n\n[Illustration: 184]\n\n\u201cTO EGIR, THE SEAS AND NAVIGATION.\u201d\n\nThe most fertile pastures, the rocks and grottoes best fitted for\ndwellings and safe retreats, the forests that were richest in game and\nthe springs that were most frequented by the flocks, all were taken by\nforce and possession maintained by the strength of the sword.\n\nWise Odin felt that violence gave no right and that theft could not\ngive a title to possession. He {165}determined to establish the right of\nproperty, and to give it, for greater efficiency, a religious character\nwhich would make it sacred in the eyes of nations.\n\nOne of his daughters, Gefione, was sent by him to one of the most\npowerful chiefs of Scandinavia. She presented herself before his tent,\nwith presents in her hands. In return she asked only for a span of land.\nThe chief gave her a vast but uncultivated territory.\n\n[Illustration: 185]\n\nNext she went, with secret purposes in her mind and always inspired by\nOdin, to a distant country, into the mountains, where giants dwelt. Here\nshe married one of these giants, the most powerful of them all, to whom\nshe bore four sons. The strong are apt to be gentle. Gefione took her\nfour sons, changed them into oxen, and by words of gentle persuasion\ninduced her husband to harness them himself to a plough. A river marked\nthe boundary of the field, on the other side stood an altar. Thus was\nthe first piece of property inaugurated, {166}by purchase, by labor, and\nunder the protection of the gods. The first owner, the gigantic husband,\nrepresented Force submitting to Right, and the four oxen represented the\nhard-working family, improving the soil and enriching it with the sweat\nof their brow.\n\nSoon people began to imitate Gefione\u2019s example, and in all directions\nland was measured and laid out; stones were put up to mark the boundary\nlines of each legal possession, and these stones were held sacred.\n\nIn order to encourage men in these efforts, the Ases made it a point\nevery morning to show their bright, shining heads above the horizon and\nthus to cheer them by their presence and the interest they took in their\nlabors.\n\nThe god Thor even came once to pay a visit to his sister Gefione, and\nthen cast a few flashes of lightning upon each one of the newly acquired\npieces of land, to render them sacred. Hence the old, deeply rooted\nnotion that lightning hallows all it touches. Afterwards, and as late as\nthe fifteenth century, it was deemed sufficient at Bonn, at Cologne, and\nat Mayence, to cast Thor\u2019s hammer upon the piece of land that had become\na fief, in order to establish an absolute right of proprietorship.\n\nBut the right of property alone did not suffice to render human society\nstable and flourishing,--{167}the nations of the earth longed for a\nhierarchy of rank and race; at least the divine pupil of the wise Mimer\ndecided it should be so. The means he employed to found such a hierarchy\nand the system itself appear curious and odd enough to us, who are no\ngods, but, unsuitable as they look now, they were successful at the\ntime.\n\nBy his order Heimdall, the god with the false teeth, abandoned his post\nas guardian of the Wal-halla for nine days, and after a long journey\nacross the country, knocked at the door of a wretched tumbledown hut,\nwhere the _Great-grandmother_ lived. Here he remained three days and\nthree nights.\n\nThe Great-grandmother brought a male child into the world,\nblack-skinned, broad-shouldered, with hard horny hands, and powerful\narms. They called it _Thrall_, the serf.\n\nThrall\u2019s natural inclination led him to prefer the hard work in mines\nand in the wilderness; he was fond of the society of domestic\nanimals and even slept with them in their stables. His sons became\ncattle-raisers, miners, or charcoal-burners.\n\nHeimdall had continued his journey. He next stopped at the\n_Grandmother\u2019s_ house, a small, simple cottage, but lacking in nothing\nthat was useful.\n\nHere he remained three days and three nights.\n\nThe Grandmother gave birth to a son, who was called _Karl_, the free\nman. {168}Karl was fond of driving oxen under the yoke, of working in\nwood and in iron, of building boats and houses, and of trading. From him\nare descended our workmen and artisans, our merchants and builders.\n\nTurning his face towards the south, Heimdall next went to a beautiful\nmansion, surrounded by magnificent gardens and reflected in the blue\nwaters of a large lake. As the god had only to show his golden teeth\nin order to be welcomed by every woman he saw, the mistress of this\nmansion, the _Mother_, also received him with great delight and tried\nto do him honor. Dressed in her most costly robes she put an embroidered\ncloth upon a table of polished wood and offered him in silver dishes\nall the varieties of fish and game, in which the lake and the park near\nthe house abounded. The Mother did everything to keep the god as long\nas possible at her house, but, as at the Grandmother\u2019s and at the\nGreat-grandmother\u2019s, so he remained here only three days and three\nnights.\n\nA son appeared to console the Mother for the departure of her\nillustrious guest; this child had at its birth already rosy cheeks,\nlong hair, and a haughty look. When he was still a child, he was fond of\nbrandishing his spear and of bending his bow; at fifteen he swam across\nthe blue waters of the lake, or plunged on an unbroken horse into\n{169}the depths of the forest, riding as fast as the wind. They called\nhim Jarl, the noble.\n\nSome years later Heimdall paid another visit to this country; delighted\nwith the prowess of Jarl, he acknowledged him as his son and taught\nhim the language of birds, which the gods alone understand and fluently\nspeak. He taught him also the science of Runes, of runes of victory\nwhich are engraven on the blades of swords; runes of love to be traced\nupon drinking horns or the thumbnail; runes of the sea, with which the\nprow and the rudder of ships are decorated--in all cases precautionary\nmeasures by which alone ill fortune can be kept at bay.\n\nBesides these gifts of knowledge, he bestowed upon him an inalienable,\nhereditary domain. This was the first entailed estate ever known in\nEurope.\n\nJarl, says the Edda, was a man of _eight-horse power_. Could we express\nit better in the noble railway Anglo-Saxon of our day, or does\nour modern English really go back to the old Scandinavian, as this\ncoincidence would seem to prove?\n\nJarl\u2019s descendants are the great chieftains, the barons, princes,\nkings, and Druids, who have all inherited great power from their divine\nancestor with the golden teeth. They alone are his legitimate\nand acknowledged children; the descendants of the grandmother and\ngreat-grandmother are illegitimate. {170}Still, whether acknowledged by\nthe law or not, they all form a close chain, a single family, they all\nspring from the same god! Thus the humblest among them saw his rights\nsecured for the future.\n\nI must confess that, the more carefully I examine these barbarians,\nwhether they were gods or men, the more I am surprised to discover\nbeneath the outward cloak of their fables so many correct ideas of order\nand of justice. These fables had, of course, their day and then passed\naway. Up to the present time, it is true, there is not much of the day\ngone; perhaps also Odin may be blamed for having invented, before the\nworld was a few hundred years old, both the Middle Ages and the Feudal\nSystem. But it would be wrong to blame him, for it must be acknowledged,\nthat in spite of the violence of their manners and the bloody nature\nof their worship, a certain civilization had at last appeared among\nthe Scandinavians. It may be called brutal, I grant; it may be called\naggressive even, but it was after all an improvement, and it has held\nits own in the North, under snow and ice, like the vigorous plants of\nour Alps. How comes it that the Germans and the Franks, more favored by\nclimate and by contact with highly civilized nations, remained so long\ninferior to the Scandinavians in this respect? Perhaps they were more\nliable to be invaded than the Sons of the North; the Scandinavians\ninvaded the continent {171}in all directions, but no one ever dreamt of\ninvading their country.\n\nAfter having thus established the right of property and a certain social\nhierarchy, Odin had next instituted marriage with the symbolic ring, and\nfinally courts of justice.\n\nBut, since he had given to man an immortal soul, and since he held out\nto him reward or punishment in another world according to his deserts,\nOdin had been compelled to establish the first high tribunals in that\nother world.\n\n[Illustration: 191]\n\nWe must, therefore, find our way to Walhalla and even to Hell, if the\nreader is disposed to follow us to that place.\n\n[Illustration: 195]\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\n{175}Heaven and Hell.--_The Valkyrias.--Amusements in Walhalla.--Pork\nand Wild Boar.--A Frozen Hell.--Balder\u2019s Death.--Frigg\u2019s Devotion.--The\nIron Tree Forest.--The Twilight of the Gods.--Idunas\u2019 Apples.--The Fall\nof Heaven and the End of the World.--Reflections on that Event.--The\nLittle Fellow still alive._\n\nWhen the warriors were preparing for battle, a number of blue-eyed young\nmaidens, mounted on {176}bright, shining horses, passed through their\nranks, animating them with word and gesture, and whispering into their\nears warlike songs to be soon changed into triumphal chants for those\nwho fell on the battlefield, mortally wounded.\n\n[Illustration: 196]\n\nThese maidens were the Valkyrias, those Valkyrias whom ever since the\npoets and painters of the Ossianic school have reproduced in a thousand\nforms. Nor must it be forgotten that this remarkable school, which the\nScotchman Macpherson revived {177}towards the end of the eighteenth\ncentury, counted among its most ardent admirers two enthusiastic\nFrenchmen, whose names were Napoleon and Lamartine.\n\nThese Valkyrias, beautiful nymphs of carnage as they were, delighted in\nthe clash of arms, the shedding of blood, and the dying groans of the\nwounded, even in the odors exhaled by the dying,--a taste which seems\nlittle suited to fair, blue-eyed maidens. These unnatural tastes were,\nhowever, justified to a certain extent, by the peculiar mission which\nthey had to fulfill, a mission of kindness and tender compassion. They\nwalked to and fro on the battlefield, not to carry off the dead, but to\ngather the souls of those who had fallen. Of the _Seola_ (such was the\nsweet name of the Soul among the nations of Germanic or Scandinavian\nrace), they rapidly asked these questions:--\n\n\u201cSeola, did you belong to a free man or to a slave?\n\n\u201cSeola, did your master honor the gods and the priests of those gods?\n\n\u201cDid he keep his pledged word?\n\n\u201cDid he die like a brave man, with his face to the enemy and not a fear\nin his heart?\n\n\u201cSeola, did he ever fight against the men of his own blood and his own\nrace?\u201d\n\nThe human soul, as soon as it escapes from the {178}wretched bondage of\nthis earth, no longer possesses the sad power of being able to tell a\nfalsehood; Seola, therefore, answered these questions truthfully, even\nthough it were to its own condemnation. In the latter case the Valkyrias\nleft it to the black Alfs, a kind of demons who belonged to hell; but\nif the Seola had belonged to a brave and loyal warrior, the Valkyria\ninstantly unfolded her white wines and took it to Walhalla, the home of\nthe gods and the paradise of heroes.\n\nThis paradise, exclusively intended for free men, was still open to\nslaves also, if they had fallen by the side of their masters, or if they\nhad thrown themselves voluntarily into the fire of the funeral pile for\nthe purpose of continuing their service in the future life.\n\nLet us see whether the delights of Walhalla were sufficiently attractive\nto warrant such selfimmolation.\n\nThe one great enjoyment of all who dwell in Walhalla was combat and\nstrife. That is a matter of taste, but did they not carry combat and\nstrife a little too far? They fought there for hours and hours, with\neagerness, with fury, even piercing each other and cutting each other to\npieces to their hearts\u2019 delight. It is true, that as soon as the dinner\nhour came the blood ceased to flow, the wounds closed their gaping lips,\nthe {179}limbs that had been lopped off by the swords returned to their\nplace, the broken heads and exposed entrails were restored without the\nsurgeon\u2019s aid, not leaving a scar behind, and the heroes went arm in arm\nto dinner, looking forward with joy to a repetition of the same merry\nsport as soon as the meal should be finished.\n\nThe fare at this table of gods and heroes does not seem to have been\npeculiarly wholesome; at all events it was not very varied.\n\nThe pork-butchers\u2019 business was at that time uncommonly flourishing both\nin heaven and on earth. Tacitus tells us that among the races of the\nNorth, as far as the borders of the Baltic Sea, chieftains and matrons\nalike loved to wear suspended around their neck a small image of a pig\nas an emblem of abundance and fecundity. Rich and poor, all looked\nupon pork as the main supply of their pantry. The pig, however, was not\ndeemed worthy to appear on Odin\u2019s table, and its place was taken by the\nboar: the gods lived upon wild boar, men upon domestic pig, that was the\nwhole difference.\n\nI am often tempted to eat pork, and I am occasionally enabled to taste\nwild boar; but I must solemnly confess, swearing if needs be by my\nstomach, that in my opinion, the gods and the heroes had by no means the\nbest of it. It may {180}be, however, that wild boars here below are not\nquite equal to heavenly boars.\n\n[Illustration: 200]\n\nHowever that may be, there appeared every morning upon the edge of one\nof the marvelous forests to be found in Walhalla, an enormous colossal\nboar, a very mammoth of a boar. The {181}heroes proceeded to hunt it,\naccompanied at times by Thor, by Vali, the skillful archer, or by Tyr,\nthe one-handed god, who nevertheless wielded his sword with power and\naccuracy. Then the monster was killed, cut up and roasted, and all dined\ntogether.\n\n[Illustration: 201]\n\nThe next day there appeared on the edge of the marvelous forest another\nwild boar, quite as fat and quite as enormous, in fact in every respect\nas attractive as the boar of the day before--some think it was always\nthe same animal, come to life again. Then a new hunt and a new dinner\nupon roasted wild boar. Surely we poor people might become disgusted for\nthe rest of our lives, one would imagine,--and those were immortal gods!\nWhat taste!\n\nBut there is worse behind yet. The Scandinavian {182}paradise was by\nno means the only one where the pork-butcher was thus glorified. In a\nneighboring paradise, which the Finns had established, we are told by\na learned writer, the rivers were flowing with beer and hydromel, the\nmountains consisted of lard and the hills of half salted pork.\n\nTo help them in digesting their solid food, the Scandinavian gods drank,\nlike those of Finland, great quantities of beer and hydromel; but they\nhad in addition, an abundance of wine which they quaffed from gold cups.\nWine! In this one word thoughtful historians have discovered a whole\nrevelation.\n\nNow would it ever have occurred to Odin, in his hyperborean lands, where\nthe vine did not exist and could not possibly live, to bring the fruit\nof the vine to his paradise? Did he know grapes? And when had he learnt\nto know them? But as I do not wish to interrupt my story, I reserve the\ndiscussion of this great and important question, with several others\nof the same kind, for another chapter, in which I hope to be able to\ndevelop my views fully and scientifically.\n\nBesides wine, beer, and hydromel, the blessed people in Walhalla had\nan additional precious beverage of their own, which it may safely be\npresumed, no mortal on earth has ever tasted. This {183}ambrosia of a\nnovel nature was obtained by the gods and heroes themselves, on certain\nfavorable days, from the white substance of the moon. Yes, from the\nmoon! Did they quaff it in full draughts or did they inhale it through\ncalumets? We do not know, but the nations of the earth saw in these\nperiodical bleedings of the moon the reason for her divers phases and\nher gradual diminution. When she became reduced to a mere crescent,\nfright was seen on all faces and oppressed all hearts. Were the great\npeople up there forgetting themselves in their celestial orgies, and\nwould they drink up the moon to the last drop?\n\nIt must be borne in mind that they, like the Germans, saw in the moon\nnothing but a transparent leathern bottle, filled with sweetened milk,\nand phosphorescent.\n\nLet us return now. To hunt the boar, to breakfast on wild boar, to dine\non the same dish, day after day, to drink beer and wine, and from time\nto time that mulled egg which the moon furnished, to fight morning\nand evening, to die and come to life again, merely for the purpose of\nfighting again--these were the amusements of that delightful place. Upon\nmy word, it took Scandinavians to be content with such pleasures.\n\nIf Odin\u2019s paradise appears to us but little attractive, his hell, on the\nother hand, seems to have been {184}far from terrible, especially if we\ncompare it with the hell of some of our great poets, such as Dante and\nMilton.\n\nThe hell of the Scandinavians occupied the lowest depths of the world\nand consisted of two parts, _Nastrond_ and _Niflheim_. The latter is\na kind of dismal vestibule shrouded in darkness, in which are seen\nwandering about the mournful seolas of those who have been neither good\nnor bad, neither heroes nor scoundrels, and of all who have not fallen\nby the sword. To die on one\u2019s bed or in an armchair, was a wrong in\nOdin\u2019s eyes, a grievous wrong, though not exactly a crime, since he\npunished it only with a temporary detention in those damp, low places,\nwhere darkness, silence, and weariness seemed to combine for their\npunishment. The dwellers in Niflheim had scarcely any amusement except\ntheir reciprocal yawns, and from time to time a flash of dim light which\nreached there when the little black Alfs came in or went out, busily\nengaged in conveying a load of souls.\n\nThe great criminals were thrown into Nastrond, the real hell. What\nis very remarkable is, that here there were no braziers and burning\ngridirons to be seen, no furnaces and masses of flames as in all the\nother hells. This was a hell of ice; it froze here hard enough to split\niron, and the damned shivered with cold. Dante mentions something of\n{185}the kind in his great work, but between the Florentine and the\nScandinavian there can be no doubt who borrowed from the other.\n\nIt was quite natural after all that in these win-tery regions of\nScandinavia, where cold is the greatest evil to be dreaded, intense,\ncontinued, eternal cold should have become the terror and the punishment\nof the criminal. The idea of a hell of fire, so far from keeping them\nfrom the fatal slope, might very well have tempted some chilly scoundrel\nto commit a great crime.\n\n[Illustration: 205]\n\nThe poor wretches who were shivering in Nastrond {186}with stiffened\nhands and eyes full of frozen tears, felt their tortures increased\nwhenever Hela, the pale goddess, the queen of that place, Death itself,\ncast upon them a glance from her lack-lustre eyes.\n\nYes, it was Hela who reigned over this frightful iceberg; her palace is\ncalled Misery, her gate the Precipice, her reception room Grief, her bed\nDisease, her table Famine, and her throne Malediction!\n\nThe body of this terrible queen is party-colored, half white and half\nblue, and her breath is perfumed with that horrible cadaverous odor in\nwhich the Valkyrias delight.\n\nBut after all, the names seem to be worse than the sufferings\nthemselves; for excessive cold paralyzes pain itself, and there is\nnothing here to compare with those classic places where lava-baths,\nrolling rocks, flaming wheels, horses of red-hot iron, boiling pitch,\nfiery arrows and the snake whips of the Eumenides made up an infernal\nstock of tortures which might well tempt the imagination of the greatest\nof poets.\n\nIn Nastrond there were no demons and no Eumenides; to be sure, there was\na Bigvor and a Sisvor, furies if you will have it so, watching at the\ngates of hell, with the help of Gaun, the formidable dog, but all three\nare forbidden to enter within. {187}The place of missing monsters is\noccupied by some of those whom Odin spared on the occasion of his first\ncampaign against the giant sons of Ymer, and by the wolf Fenris, whom\nthe Ases had treacherously captured. There are also two other wolves,\nconvicted of having made an attempt upon the life of the Sun, and all of\nthese monsters are firmly chained and appear rather as sufferers than as\ntormentors.\n\nOne of these days, their iron chains will be loosened; one of these days\nheaven will turn cold and hell will melt, and--then, woe to the gods!\n\nListen! The moment is drawing near when all these mysteries are to\nbe solved. The hour is coming when _you shall hear, when you shall\nunderstand!_ But before uttering these last words, final and at the same\ntime fatal words, we must mention an event which at that moment\noccurred in the open assembly of the gods, filling heaven and earth with\namazement, with pity and horror.\n\nIt must be acknowledged that so far the heavenly personages have\nappeared to be rather kindhearted and mild. Odin, in spite of his Druids\nand their demands for bloody sacrifices, seems to have been full of good\nintentions. The god Thor, with all his somewhat brutal ways, rendered\ngreat services to mankind; and the same hammer, which protected them\nagainst the giants, afterwards served, {188}without the aid of\ngeometry, to mark the boundary lines of their respective properties.\nThe golden-teethed god, Heimdall, gave most undoubted evidence of his\ndevotion to the human race and of his self-denial in his visits to the\nGrandmother and the Great-grandmother, and so did the other gods. But we\nhad good reasons for not going through the whole list of the Ases. For\nthere is one whom we keep in reserve so that he may appear at the right\nhour, and that is Loki, the god of evil and the genius of destruction.\n\nSurpassing Odin himself in his magic skill, fair of form and features,\na smile on his lips--thin lips, however, the Edda adds--and apparently\npossessed of the most jovial temper so as to make him a most agreeable\nperson, Loki is in reality a compound of the most hideous vices. He\nis the representative of hatred and cruelty, of envy, hypocrisy, and\nperversity. In fact, he is our Satan, before the fall. If he had been\nking of hell, Miflheim and Nastrond would both have been filled with\nmore tortures and more horrors than all the other hells which are known\nto men.\n\nAnd yet he was the god upon whom the dwellers in Walhalla counted for\ntheir entertainment, and whom they had surnamed the Clown!\n\nOne day an ancient prophetess returns to life, rises in her grave, and\nutters a terrible cry: \u201cBalder, {189}fair Balder, is going to die!\u201d\n With these words she falls back again upon her mournful couch and dies\nagain--forever.\n\n[Illustration: 209]\n\nIn the meantime this cry has been heard even at the top of the ash\nYgdrasil. The Ases are troubled and amazed; they meet, they look at\neach other, thoroughly frightened, for on the life of Balder depends the\nexistence of all the other gods. Moreover, {190}Balder the Bright is\nthe glory of heaven and the love of the earth. Can Balder die, the most\ncharming and the purest as well as the most beautiful of all the sons of\nOdin? He, who was so beautiful that Hela herself could not help smiling\nwhen she looked at him--he, so pure that no falsehood could be uttered\nin his presence and that a vessel containing an adulterated liquid would\nbreak instantly at his approach--he, so charming that all the gods love\nhim as their favorite child, and that men have surnamed him Hope? No,\nno! Balder shall not die, said the Ases.\n\nHis distressed mother Frigg, Odin\u2019s wife, shows her apprehensions by\nher intense anguish, and her sobs scarcely allow her to speak. She tells\nthose who try to laugh at the sudden alarm of all who have heard the\nwarning of the prophetess, that for several nights already she has\nbeen repeatedly, persistently warned in her dreams of the death of her\nwell-beloved son. She would not believe it, she adds, but now she does\nbelieve.\n\nThe divine sybil Vola, whose predictions have never proved untrue, and\nSkulda, the Norn of the Future, are \u2018summoned to appear. They consult\nwith each other and this is their decision:--\n\n\u201cBalder is in danger; Balder will die unless all earthly substances that\ncan inflict death, are rendered powerless.\u201d {191}Frigg descends to the\nearth and speaks to volcanoes and water-spouts, to frost and hail, and\nthey promise to spare her son. Among the aquatic powers, from the ocean\nto the smallest brook, among the stones, from the mightiest rock to the\npebble, and among the metals, from gold to iron, there is none that does\nnot swear the same oath. The plants also promise, from the oak to the\nsmallest shrub and down to the humblest grass.\n\n[Illustration: 211]\n\nTriumphantly she returns to heaven to announce the good news. Everybody\nis overjoyed. They celebrate the happy result of her journey by a family\ndinner, at which Loki succeeds in exhilarating even Odin himself by his\nmerry jokes. He had never appeared in better spirits; had never seemed\nto sympathize more warmly with the happy court.\n\nWhen the feast was ended and the last cups were drained in honor of\nBalder, some one proposed for the general amusement to try how far all\nthese substances, vegetable or mineral, will be faithful to the oath\nthey have sworn, when brought face to face with Balder. {192}Beginning\nwith the most inoffensive of them all, they throw at him a clod of\nearth; the clod of earth breaks into a cloud of dust before it touches\nhim. Then they pour a pitcher of water over him and the water forms a\ncascade above him without wetting even his garments. They try to strike\nhim with a hazel wand; the wand, slipping from the hand that holds\nit, breaks in two. Balder is amused by the game and encourages the\nbystanders to renew their attacks.\n\n[Illustration: 212]\n\nThe skillful Uller shoots at him a pointless arrow, aiming, from\nexcessive caution, only at his shoulder. The arrow passes at a distance\nof twenty feet from its aim and continues its flight through {193}the\nair, like a bird in search of its prey beyond the clouds.\n\nTen other assailants meet the same fate, trying their luck with a\nfragment of rock and a heavy branch in the shape of a club. But the\nfragment was of stone and remembered the promise given to Frigg, and the\nclub was cut from a tree and the tree remembered the promise given to\nFrigg.\n\nEncouraged by so many reassuring trials, Freyr desired to try his magic\nsword, but for once the faithful sword was deaf to his orders. Thor\nbrandished his hammer, but the hammer suddenly reversed its action and\nwell nigh made him fall back upon his heels. Freyr\u2019s sword and Thor\u2019s\nhammer were both of iron and the iron remembered the promise given to\nFrigg.\n\nLoki took care not to appear.\n\nThe sport was over, as it seemed, when suddenly the blind god Hoder,\nBalder\u2019s own brother, was seen to advance, feeling his way, towards the\nbright god. Hoder held in his hand a small bunch of leaves, a bit of\ngrass, at least it appeared such after the fearful instruments that had\njust been brought into play.\n\nImmense laughter, a laughter such as the gods of Homer were in the habit\nof enjoying, broke out at the sight; Loki laughed till his sides shook\nand Hoder himself shared the general hilarity. {194}But he drew\nnearer and nearer, shaking his bit of verdure in the air; then, almost\ntottering and having learnt from the bystanders in what direction he\nwould have to turn, he threw the slender twig against Balder, using his\nfull force, which was prodigious.\n\nHe hit Balder full in the chest and the god fell instantly. That bright\nlight which was always shining around him became extinct; he closed his\neyes, and lowered his beautiful brow deprived of its glory.....Balder\nwas dead!\n\nHe had been struck by a bit of mistletoe. Frigg had addressed her\nprayers to the oak tree, but she had not thought of the mistletoe which\ngrows on the oak tree; the mistletoe had given no promise to Frigg. Must\nwe look here for a symbolic meaning? Did this mean, that the Druidical\nmistletoe was soon to triumph over the gods of Scandinavia? This could\nnot be so, for at the time to which we have come, there was no trace\nleft of the wise worship of the Druids of the first epoch; the Druids of\nthe second epoch were fast losing their power, and the Scandinavian gods\nwere daily increasing in popularity, even beyond the banks of the Rhine.\n\nBut we ought not to interrupt this account of Balder\u2019s death, which\nis as poetical and as touching as the most famous fables of Greece.\n{195}When blind Hoder, whose name must not be uttered, you remember,\nhears the cries of despair which break out all around him, and encircle\nhim on all sides with maledictions, he is troubled and seriously\ndistressed. Then, all of a sudden joining in the distressed cries of the\nAses, he falls utterly overcome upon his brother\u2019s body and denounces\nLoki as the author of this calamity. Loki has reproached him for being\nthe only one who took no part in the amusements by which they thought to\nhonor Balder, and he it was who had not only given him the fatal\nplant but who had also directed his arm. Loki was jealous of all the\nperfections of Balder and he hated him as much as the other gods loved\nhim.\n\nThey look for Loki, but he has disappeared. No doubt he has tried to\nescape from the vengeance of the Ases by seeking refuge in the mountains\namong the giants, his natural allies, or perhaps in the deep sea, with\nthe serpent Iormungandur.\n\nAnd whilst they thus lament, inquire, and investigate, Balder\u2019s soul is\ncarried off by the black Alfs to Niflheim, the dark vestibule of hell.\n\nOdin still cherished hopes that his dead son might be restored to him.\nUpon his order Her-mode, the messenger of the gods, mounts his horse\nSleipner and goes to see Hela, but neither promises nor threats can move\nthe dread goddess. Fate has {196}decided, and Fate is above the gods, as\nthe gods are above men.\n\nThen Frigg herself goes to see the pale goddess. Frigg weeps and the\nmerciless goddess is unable to keep her heart from softening when she\nsees the tears of such a mother. She says to her:--\n\n\u201cLet all created beings--mind, I say, all created beings!--give a tear\nto Balder, a tear such as you have\u2019 shed in my presence, and Balder\nshall be restored to you!\u201d\n\nFrigg was unwilling to trust any one but herself with the effort to\nrealize such hopes. Once more she went over the world, gathering around\nher all the races of men, one after the other, and as she mentioned the\nname of Balder, tears flowed from all eyes.\n\nFor three months she visited all the forests and all the mountains,\nthe seas and the lakes and the animals that live in the waters and the\nmountains; and seas and lakes and mountains wept. She went even to the\nabode of the giants, the enemies of the gods, and her grief made the\ngiants also weep; every tree wept and every rock wept.\n\nFrigg thought her task was accomplished, and was filled with joy; but\nshe heard that in the far East of Midgard there lived an old woman in\nthe heart of a forest of iron trees. As she lived alone there, far\nfrom any beaten track, she had never {197}become known to the intrepid\ntraveller. Now, however, Frigg sought her out by steep paths, cut up\nwith gullies and fierce torrents, and at last found her. When the mother\ntold her pitiful tale, the iron trees wept, but the old woman would not\nweep.\n\n[Illustration: 217]\n\n{198}They called her Thorck, and her heart was ten times as hard as her\nname.\n\n\u201cWhat do I care for your Balder?\u201d she cried; \u201cwhat do I care whether he\nis dead or alive? You have other sons; I have not one left me. Once I\nhad four, and all four were my pride, my delight. They were so fair!\nThey were so tall! Your son Thor killed every one of them. I wept much\nat that time. Now, it is all over. Look for tears elsewhere, I have no\ntears to give to other people\u2019s sorrows!\u201d\n\nFrigg bowed down before her, begged her, conjured her, and even fell on\nher knees before her; but the old woman was inflexible. Balder had to\nremain a prisoner with Hela.\n\nSome interpreters of Scandinavian runes have been of the opinion that\nthe bereaved mother in the forest of iron trees was none other than\nLoki himself, changed into an old woman. That thought, however, is\ninadmissible. The Ases were beyond the reach of Hela, and Loki\u2019s refusal\nwould not have rendered void the unanimous vote of all Nature, when\ntears of pity and sympathy alone were to be given as votes. It is much\nmore plausible to suppose, that Loki had induced Thorck to refuse by his\ncounsels and by his enchantments; through him the heart of the old woman\nhad\u2019 become iron as well as the trees of the forest in {199}which she\nlived. Thus Loki had twice caused the death of Balder!\n\nIt was at this time that a strange, almost incredible report was for the\nfirst time heard among men. The Druids whispered it cautiously into\nthe ears of the initiated, and voices were said to utter it in the air\nduring the night. This report, a terrible secret, a most unexpected\nrevelation, stated that the gods were about to die! Thor would die,\nafter seeing lightning become extinct in his hands; Odin himself would\ndie, and so would the others. The fate of each one of them was depending\non the fate of this fragile world over which they ruled, and this world\nhad to perish because Balder had perished.\n\nWhat? Should the Universe change back into chaos? Was there no\nall-powerful will that could arrest the process of destruction before\nit was too late? But where could such omnipotent will be found, now that\nthe gods were no longer to be in existence?\n\nListen! listen to these verses from the Edda!\n\n\u201cWho is the most ancient among the gods?\n\n\u201cAlfader, that is, the universal father. He has always been and will\never be; he governs all things, both big and small; he has made the\nheavens, the earth and the gods. Odin created man, but Al-fader gave\nhim his immortal soul!\u201d {200}Thus we come back to the pure essence of\nan only god, who is ever the same, whether his name be Teut, Esus, or\nJehovah; the other gods are nothing but emanations proceeding from him,\nliving symbols intended to live for a few thousand centuries--that is\nall.\n\n\u201cDo you hear? Do you understand now?\n\n\u201cDo you understand why the great ash tree Ygdrasil is continually\ngnawed at its root by a dragon? Why four famished stags feed upon its\nfoliage? You understand? Well!\n\n\u201cBut by what sign shall we recognize the approaching end of the\ngods--that which the Edda calls their _twilight?_\n\n\u201cThe most important among all the sacred books of the North, a volume\ncontaining the prophecies of the divine sybil Vola, the _Voluspa,_ will\ntell you.\n\n\u201cWhen the fatal moment draws near, their voice will cease to be able\nto utter the accustomed chants, and the luminous brightness radiating\nfrom their bodies will fade away little by little.\n\n\u201cWhen they leave their bath, their bodies will not dry at once, as they\ndo now, but remain moist; drops of water will continually drip from\nthem, and they will in this respect become like unto mortal men.\n\n\u201cIn order to overcome these first symptoms of {201}indisposition, the\nwife of the god Bragi, Iduna, will give them certain apples to eat,\nwhich she keeps in reserve. These apples will have the effect of\nstrengthening them and of restoring to them a kind of fictitious youth\nfor a few thousand years perhaps.\n\n\u201cOne day, however, their eyes will begin to wink; the next morning, upon\nawaking, their eyelids will be found closed, and then they will turn red\nand blear.\n\n\u201cAt table, when proceeding to their usual libations, their slightly\ntremulous hands will be unable to hold their cups steadily; some of the\nwine or the hydromel will escape and their garments will remain stained.\n\n\u201cWoe to them if a grain of dust adheres to these stained garments!\n\n\u201cWoe to them still more, if the wreaths of flowers or of jewels begin to\nfade and to wither on their brows!\n\n\u201cFinally, when the sweet perfumes which now are exhaled from their\nbodies, change into acrid and sickening odors, there will be nothing\nleft for them but to make their last will.\u201d\n\nI am well convinced that this last phrase has been stealthily introduced\ninto the Voluspa by some kind of criminal and fraudulent trick. The\nrest, however, is a faithful translation of the original {202}text, as\ntaken from the best authenticated editions.\n\n[Illustration: 222]\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d the prophecy continues, \u201cthen three sacred cocks, dwelling\nin the three principal worlds, will crow and reply to each other,\nannouncing the _Twilight of Greatness._\n\n\u201cThen, everything on earth will be in disorder and confusion; families\nwill be at variance with {203}each other, the claims of blood will no\nlonger be acknowledged, and brothers will be arrayed against brothers.\n\n\u201cAdultery and incest, robbery and murder, will prevail among men, and\nthe age will be an age of barbarism, an age of the sword, an age of\ntempests, an age of wolves!\n\n\u201cThe wolves will be ready to devour the sun. Three long winters, with\nno summers between them, will cover the earth with snow and ice; the\nbranches of the trees will give way under the immense burden; the sun\nwill be darkened more and more; the moon will dissolve into vapor and\nthe stars will go out; the mountains, shaking in their foundations, will\nbe tossed to and fro like reeds in a river; the earth will reject all\nthe plants, the trees, and the rocks which it now bears; the waters will\ncast the fish upon the shore and with them their algae, their corals,\nand even the bodies of shipwrecked men, hideous skeletons, whose\nrattling bones will chime in grimly with the warning of the rising\nflood.\n\n\u201cThen the sea will grow dark, and upon its waters there will be seen\nfloating that monstrous ship made of the nails of dead men. At the\nrudder, Ymer, the giant, will stand, having been recalled to life for\na time, in order to assist Loki in scaling the heavens by the way of\nBifrost, the {204}rainbow, at the head of the other Giants of the Frost.\n\n\u201cThen Surtur the Black will arrive from the southern regions, from the\nrealm of fire, with all of his malignant demons, bearing torches and\nready to set heaven and earth on fire.\n\n\u201cThen Hela, the pale goddess of death, will set free her prisoners, the\nwolf Fenris first of all, and march at the head of these monsters to\nassist the powers of the South.\n\n\u201cThen the gods will take up their arms; Odin will gather them around\nhim, and with them the heroes from Walhalla; and the last battle will be\nfought.\u201d\n\nBut Vola\u2019s prophecy has to be fulfilled; the gods must perish, and the\nworld with them.\n\nFreyr dies in the flames of Surtur the Black; Thor succumbs to\nthe deadly embrace and the poisonous bites of the great serpent\nIormungandur; but, before dying, he kills it. Odin is torn to pieces by\nthe wolf Fenris.\n\nDuring the struggle, the heavens have been scaled and the genii of fire\nenter on horseback through the breach, while the giants shake the ash\nYgdrasil, which writhes uttering long sighs, and at last falls with\nthe heavenly vault which it has been upholding. The conquerors and the\nconquered alike are crushed under the ruins, and the world {205}being\nset on fire by Surtur the Black, vanishes in smoke.\n\nThus the night of the gods has to succeed to the twilight of the gods.\n\n\u201cO you, spirits of the mountains, do you know whether anything will\ncontinue to exist?\u201d asks the Voluspa, at the end of these mournful\nprophecies.\n\nIt must be admitted that this sombre and terrible conception is not\nwithout a certain poetic grandeur, a certain savage heroism, which we\ncannot help admiring. In these verses the Edda is in no way inferior to\nthe most brilliant pictures drawn by Dante or by Milton, and more than\nonce it approaches nearly to the Apocalypse. Thus, as the inspired\nApostle saw a new heaven and a new earth, the Edda also announces the\ncoming of a time, when a new earth, more favored and more perfect than\nours, shall succeed the old earth.\n\n\u201cWhen the earth is thus broken to pieces and devoured by fire, what\nshall happen next?\n\n\u201cThere will come forth from the sea another earth, more beautiful and\nmore perfect.\n\n\u201cAnd will any of the gods survive?\n\n\u201cBalder will be revived and come forth from the place of departed\nspirits, to rule over the new world under the guidance of the\nimperishable Al-fader. {206}Then will be the reign of Justice.\u201d\n\nThe mythology of the Scandinavians embraces, as we have shown, among\nits symbols all the great phenomena of Nature, the continual struggle\nbetween the two opposite principles, creation and destruction. Being,\nbesides, more complicated and more intelligent than the mythology of the\nGauls and the Germans, it deserved to fill a large space in our work,\nand such a space we have accorded it cheerfully.\n\nBut why was it that the civilization introduced by Odin contributed as\nlittle as the philosophy of the Druids to the real well-being and the\nimprovement of mankind? I think I see the reason.\n\nIn the eyes of the German as well as of the Scandinavian, God was only\njust and rigid. The rule of the God of Love had not yet begun.\nPerhaps Balder was to inaugurate it in that other world which the Edda\nannounced.\n\nDo you hear? Do you understand?\n\nAmid all the incidents which were to mark the general conflagration,\nthere is one which particularly recalls to our mind a great historical\nevent. Alexander of Macedonia once questioned certain Celtic ambassadors\nand was told by them, that what they feared most upon earth, was the\nfalling down of the sky.\n\nThis apparently lofty answer filled the young {207}conqueror with\nadmiration, and it is still admired by modern students of history. It\nwas, however, in reality nothing more than a simple, na\u00efve rendering of\none of their articles of faith; for all their prophetic books threatened\nthem with the destruction of the heavens.\n\nAnother detail, the complete destruction of this globe of ours, after\na series of fearful catastrophes, recalls to me, not exactly a great\nhistorical fact, but a simple game of my childhood, which may have\nbeen symbolic, nay, which may have come down to us from the Edda. This,\nhowever, I state with great hesitation.\n\nDid you ever know one of the merriest games, which was once very much\nthe fashion in city and country alike, when a firebrand, a burning\nstick, or a bunch of straw set on fire, was quickly passed from hand\nto hand? To prevent its going out, while you held it, you were bound to\npass it as quickly as possible to your neighbor, repeating at the same\ntime the expressive words: \u201c_The little fellow is still alive_.\u201d Your\nneighbor passed it to his neighbor and thus it travelled all around,\nalways accompanied by the same, constant burden: \u201cThe little fellow is\nstill alive!\u201d This game was transformed during the Middle Ages, in\nthe North, and especially in Bretagne, into the Torch Dance, as I have\nmentioned before. {208}Now I imagine that this game, in some way or\nother, prefigured the universal conflagration that was to come, and _the\nlittle fellow_ was the world.\n\n[Illustration: 228]\n\nBut we must make haste to reach our great scientific discussion.\n\n[Illustration: 231]\n\n\n\n\nVIII.\n\n{211}_How the Gods of India live only for a Kalpa, that is, for the Time\nbetween one World and another.--How the God Vishnu was One-eyed.--How\nCelts and Scandinavians believed in Metempsychosis, like the\nIndians.--How Odin, with his Emanations, came forth from the God\nBuddha.--About Mahabarata and Ramayana.--Chronology.--The World\u2019s\nAge.--Comparative Tables.--Quotations.--Supporting Evidence.--A\nCenotaph._\n\nMy reader has had a lucky escape.\n\nDetermined as I was to fathom in this chapter the true origin of the\nScandinavian religion, and inspired by the zeal of a recent convert, I\nhad collected and compared every document that could aid me in proving\nthe Oriental descent of the priests of Odin as well as of the other\nDruids. I {212}thought it was a beautiful doctrine, and especially an\nentirely new one.\n\nWhen I finished my chapter, which I thought was exceedingly well done,\nI read it to Doctor Rosahl, expecting, I must confess, to be warmly\ncongratulated.\n\n\u201cWhy, my dear sir,\u201d he said, when I had finished, \u201cyou have made great\nefforts to prove a thing which has been established long since. All the\nmaster minds of France and Germany, to say nothing of other nations,\nagree on that subject. I mean men like Fauriel, Lassen, Lenormand,\nAmpere, Eichhoff, Saint-Marc Girardin, Marmier, Klaproth, Ozanam, the\ntwo R\u00e9musats, the two Thierrys, the two Humboldts, the two Grimms, not\nto mention twenty others.\n\n\u201cWhy will you come to their assistance after they have won the victory?\nDo you merely wish to display your scholarship?\u201d\n\nI indignantly denied the charge, and seizing my manuscript with both\nhands, I resolutely threw it into the fire.\n\nA remnant of paternal weakness induced me, however, to retain the\nsummary of that famous chapter, and I have inserted it here in its\nregular place, so that it might bear evidence of my wasted labor. As the\n_corpus delicti_ is no longer in existence, this summary may stand there\nlike an inscription {213}on an empty tomb, to honor the memory of the\ndeceased.\n\nMy VIIIth chapter is thus changed into a cenotaph.\n\nI--a scholar! Great God! Let the reader not be disturbed. My purpose\nin writing this work was nothing more than to try and collect along the\nbanks of the Rhine all the curious myths which have survived the ancient\ncreeds of Europe; for they have all come to the great river. There the\ntraveller finds piled up, after the manner of alluvial layers, all the\nancient fables, all the marvelous and often childish tales to which\nthe credulity and lively imagination of our forefathers gave a ready\nwelcome. With the exception of a very few cases, in which the grave\nnature of the subject lifts me necessarily into higher regions, I wish\nmainly to tell you once more _Grandmamma\u2019s Tales_. That is what we are\ngoing to do next. The Edda itself has no other meaning, for _Edda_ means\nthe same as our _grandmother_.\n\nNo, I am too great a lover of tales of a tub ever to have claimed the\nreputation of being a scholar; but at times I like to glean a little\nwhere scholars have reaped. I have been shown the best spots, and I\npilfer as well as I can--that is all.\n\nAn ignoramus and a pilferer, I resemble a bee which might fly into a\nbotanical garden and, utterly {214}unacquainted with the Latin names\nof flowers, carry off joyously a rich harvest, without pretending to be\nable to make academic honey.\n\n[Illustration: 234]\n\n[Illustration: 237]\n\n\n\n\nIX.\n\n{217}_Confederation of all the Northern Gods.--Freedom of\nReligion.--Christianity.--Miserere mei!--Homeric Enumeration.--Prussian,\nSlavic, and Finnish Deities.--The God of Cherries and the God\nof Bees.--A Silver Woman.--Ilmarinnen\u2019s Wedding Song.--A Skeleton\nGod.--Yaga-Babc\u00fbs Pestle and Mortar.--Preparation for Battle.--The\nLittle Chapel on the Hill.--The Signal for the Attack.--Jesus and Mary._\n\nIt is high time for us to return to the banks of the Rhine, where the\ntwo religions of Jupiter and Odin were about to meet face to face.\n{218}At that time the terrible prophecies of the Edda were far from\nbeing near their fulfillment; Odin had a long period of omnipotence yet\nbefore him.\n\nTo the great surprise of the adversaries, the Romans, so far from\nshowing any alarm at his approach, received him and his retinue of\ndeities as old acquaintances.\n\nAccording to their unchanging policy they would see in him nothing but a\nJupiter, and in fierce Thor another gallant Mars, somewhat sobered by a\nlong residence in northern countries and excessive use of beer.\n\nThe Romans looked, in fact, upon all of these Scandinavian gods and\ngoddesses simply as upon myths of their own that came back to them once\nmore.\n\nThe poets hallowed these claims and the historians tried to justify\nthem. According to some, Odin the Conqueror, a member of the family of\nAses, had first given to some of his conquests the name of Asia (which\nmight very well be so), and then receded before the Roman armies to cold\nhyperborean regions. Here he had adopted the gods of his new conquerors,\nhoping that they would, in return, make him victorious--which seems to\nme in the highest degree improbable. According to others, the poet Ovid,\nwhen Augustus had banished him to Scythia, had learnt the language of\nthe barbarians, {219}among whom he was living, and finding them willing\nand eager to listen to him, had recited before them his \u201cMetamorphoses.\u201d\n This was all that was needed to induce the Scythians to make for\nthemselves gods after the model of the Roman gods.\n\n[Illustration: 239]\n\nTacitus, Plutarch, Strabo, and a host of the most illustrious writers\nnever hesitated to give currency to such childish stories, ignoring\nentirely the date of the Scandinavian religion.\n\nAs Rome, however, permitted no human sacrifices, the priests of Odin\nand of Teut had at first withdrawn far from the beaten track, into the\ndepths of dark old forests. There they could live quietly, practice\nwithout restraint the religion of their forefathers, and kill their men\nin perfect security. At least such were their hopes. The Roman soldiers,\nhowever, who handled the woodman\u2019s axe {220}as readily as the sword, and\nthe spade as well as the spear, soon made big holes in these venerable\nforests, murdered the murderers, and overthrew their blood-stained\naltars.\n\n[Illustration: 240]\n\n{221}Occasionally it happened that the brave legionaries who were\nemployed in these hazardous enterprises, did not reappear. The\nproconsuls, whose duty it was to keep Germany in order, would have liked\nto inflict severe punishment; but just then the great reaction began to\nset in, from the North against the South.\n\nWhilst Rome was making efforts to establish her power in Germany,\ncertain German tribes, Franks and Burgundians, invaded France and began\nto settle down in some of the conquered Roman provinces. The proconsuls\nthought it both prudent and wise not to raise the question of religion;\nand for a long time a truce was tacitly agreed upon between all the\ndifferent creeds, though not without some misgivings on both sides. Odin\nhad his altars by the side of those of Jupiter; a temple in honor of\nThor stood facing a temple dedicated to Mars, and if Bacchus, Diana, and\nApollo had their sacred days, Bragi, Frigg, and Freya had theirs also.\n\nIn spite of this general toleration, the parties watched each other\ncarefully.\n\nSooner or later a holy war had to break out; in certain regions it had\nalready begun, when fishermen of the Rhine busily drawing in their nets,\nheard, for the first time, a still small voice coming down upon them on\nthe waters of the river, which whispered the names of Jesus and Mary.\n{222}The same voice and the same names were simultaneously heard again\nand again before Strasbourg, Mayence, and Cologne. It was Christianity\nthat was approaching.\n\n[Illustration: 242]\n\nThese wondrous words, which now the river only {223}murmured, had soon\nafter been forced by some mystic power from the lips of the Druidesses\nin their prophetic exaltation and from the priests of Jupiter, as they\nconsulted their auguries.\n\nThere was a Druid, who, in the act of sacrificing, was suddenly seized\nwith inspiration, and dropping the bloody knife felt impelled to cry\nout: _Miserere mei, Jesus!_ and yet Latin had until then been an unknown\ntongue among the Druids!\n\nThe nations stood expectant, waiting for the revelation of a new faith.\n\nSoon a number of fugitives from Tolbiac, returning to the Rhine,\nproduced consternation in all hearts by the announcement that Clovis,\nthe king of the Franks, who had long been suspected of a secret\nunderstanding with Rome, had gone over to the god of the Christians, and\nthat the god of the Christians was at that moment advancing at the head\nof ten legions of destroying angels.\n\nWhen this news came, the rival religions laid aside their jealousy,\nand terrified by a common danger, joined hands to resist the invader.\nA general appeal was made not only by the followers of Odin to those of\nJupiter, but also to the Northern gods, the Finnish gods, the Russian\ngods, and the Slavic gods. The danger was threatening to all alike, and\nthey responded to the appeal and came to the Rhine. {224}We cannot so\nrapidly pass over this vast Olympian assembly of gods, a poet\u2019s dream,\nit may be, but a traditional dream, full of strange and striking\nsplendor, which completes in a most unexpected manner the limited\ndescription we have tried to give of Northern Myths.\n\n[Illustration: 244]\n\nAt this grand meeting there appeared in the first place a goodly number\nof Borussian or Prussian gods, among whom stood first and foremost\nPercunos, the divine leader of the heavenly bodies; Pikollos, whose\nface was as pale as Hela\u2019s and whose duty was, like hers, to preside\nover hell; exacting, however, from men nothing but prayers accompanied\nby beating hearts, he cared nothing whether he was feared or beloved. A\nthird god, Potrympos, had the appearance of a youth, with smiling lips\nand with a wreath of wheat ears and flowers on his brow; this was the\ngod of War. Of War? And what meant the smile on his lips and the wheat\nears on his brow? They indicated that he was also the god of public\nsupplies and even of love.\n\nIt seems that, in ancient Prussia, War was the purveyor-general and\nsupplied everything.\n\nIn the retinue of this great trio, we find Antrympos, the god of seas\nand lakes; Poculos, the god of the air and of storms; then, after these\ngods ending in _os_, came other deities ending in _us_; Pilvitus, the\ngod of riches, Auchwitus, the god of the sick, and Marcopulus, the god\nof the nobles. The latter was the terror of the common people, whom he\nheld under an iron yoke. In order to {226}conciliate his good will, they\nprayed to Puscatus, another god in us, but a kindhearted god. He\nlived under an elder tree, and the price he exacted in return for his\nmediation was the modest gift of a piece of bread and a _schoppen_ of\nbeer.\n\n[Illustration: 246]\n\nAlthough their priests were called Crives or Waidelottes, their\nceremonies were, nevertheless, mere imitations of those of the Druids.\nThe Borussians honored particularly the famous oak of Remowe, to which\nPercunos, Pikollos, and Potrympos paid a daily visit. To these same gods\nthey offered their prisoners of war; but they were not sacrificed by\nmeans of a knife after the German {227}Or the Scandinavian manner. They\ndestroyed them by fire or they gave them to be devoured to enormous\nserpents who lived upon the altar and for the altar.\n\n[Illustration: 247]\n\nNow all these gods have come to Germany accompanied by their monstrous\nreptiles, by griffins fearful to behold, and by demons summoned\nfrom hell, all called upon to take part in the impending struggle.\n{228}Almost at the same time with the Prussian gods arrived also the\nScythian gods and those of the Sarmatians, the former in chariots,\naccording to the manner of travelling which prevailed among those\nnations. They also bowed low, like their people, before the all-powerful\nTahiti, the great representative of their religion, Fire. The Scythians\nhad evidently derived very little profit from hearing Ovid read his\n\u201cMetamorphoses.\u201d\n\nThe others were but few in numbers; their representatives were their\nchief triad: Perun, their Jupiter Tonans; Rujewit, who controlled the\nclouds; and Sujatowist, the judge of the dead. These three brought in\ntheir train only Trizbog and the Tassanis, that is, the plague and the\nfuries. Their other gods, unable to do anything for success in war, had\nwisely stayed at home.\n\nCan I neglect mentioning the names and attributes of these inoffensive\nlocal deities, whom the fierce Sarmatians worshipped. They were:--\n\nKirnis, who causes the cherries to ripen;\n\nSardona, who watches over the nut trees;\n\nAuste\u00efa, who presides over the education of bees;\n\nThe sweet Kolna, who sees to the marriage of flowers.\n\nThere were also gods or goddesses of corn, of the kneading-tub and the\nwash-tub, the god of flies and the god of butterflies; we must confess\nthat {229}these deities could hardly have been very useful on the banks\nof the Rhine.\n\nBut Odin and Jupiter could count upon more efficient and more reliable\nallies in the gods of Finland.\n\nThe gods bear almost always the impress of the character of their\nfollowers and of those over whom they rule, and what other nation has\never given such proofs of undaunted courage as the Finns or Finlanders?\nPirates on the Baltic, as the Scandinavians were pirates on the ocean,\nthey shared with them the booty that could be gotten in all the Northern\nseas. They had originally come from the high table-lands of Asia,\ntogether with their brethren the Turks, the Mongols, and the Tartars;\ntheir first appearance was made under the name of Ugorians, Ogres, and\nsurely the Ogres have made a lasting and a terrible impression on bur\npopular tales!\n\nThe Finns consisted almost exclusively of sailors and soldiers, of\nminers and blacksmiths. To smelt iron and to fashion it into anchors\nfor their ships, into lances, swords, and spears, was their principal\noccupation. Hence they paid special reverence to Rauta-Rekhi, the\npersonification of iron; to Wulangoinen, the father of iron, and to\nRuojuota, the nurse of iron. They worshipped in like manner with special\nzeal three sombre virgins, whose powerful breasts were running over\nwith a dark milk, {230}which turned into iron as it cooled off, as water\nturns into ice when it cools off.\n\nTheir principal gods, besides these whom I have mentioned, were again\nthree, and, as usual, three brothers.\n\nThe oldest, Vainamoinen, of hoary age, created celestial and terrestial\nfire, that is to say, the sun and the volcanoes.\n\nThe second, Ukko, has to provide them with fire, so as to prevent the\nearth from returning to the condition of an immense icicle, and the sun\nto the form of a heap of extinct embers. Living in the clouds he now\nblows upon the sun and now upon the volcanoes so as to keep up the blaze\nin both, and encourages them with his voice, the thunder.\n\nIlmarinnen, the third, a very industrious and most skillful workman, has\nforged the earth and the seven heavens by which it is surrounded; hence\nhe is called the _Eternal Blacksmith_. He spends his life at the forge,\nmaking sometimes stars of all sizes and at other times spare moons.\nHe has even made a silver woman, not for himself, however, but for a\nyounger brother, whose manifold and incessant occupations left him no\ntime to take the necessary steps for a suitable marriage. This woman\nof fine metal, well-made, beautiful, charming, and of the sweetest\ndisposition, had but one single defect,--no {231}one could come near her\nwithout being chilled to the marrow of his bones.\n\nHowever, the most skillful blacksmith cannot be expected to make a\nperfect woman at the first trial.\n\nWhen the question of his own marriage was mooted, Ilmarinnen preferred\ntaking a ready made wife, and, according to the usage which prevailed\namong the Finns as well as among the Germans, he bought one.\n\nFor the sake of enjoying some relief after such a long enumeration of\ndeities, now entirely out of fashion, I feel strongly tempted to insert\nhere _a saga_, a Finnish legend, which treats of this very marriage of\nIlmarinnen, the blacksmith, and was composed by his own sister. In this\nwedding-song, which is full of the sweetest and chastest sentiments,\nshe exhibits the domestic life of these artisan-gods, who sometimes were\ndisposed to beat their wives,--at least the saga suggests the occurrence\nof such events.\n\nIlmarinnen has just been married and becomes impatient, he actually\nswears at not seeing his young bride come to him in great haste. Listen\nto what is sung to him, with an accompaniment on a small Kantele\nguitar, by his sister, the hostess of Pohjola, in order to calm him the\nbetter:--\n\n\u201cO husband, brother of my brothers, you have {232}already waited long\nfor the coming of this happy day; wait patiently a little longer. Your\nwell beloved will not tarry long. She finishes her toilet; but you know\nit is far to the fountain to which she has to go for water.\n\n\u201cO husband, brother of my brothers, be patient! She has just put on her\nrobe, but she has only put on one sleeve. You would surely not have her\nappear before you with one sleeve empty?\n\n\u201cO husband, she has just arranged her hair; a beautiful belt encircles\nher waist, but she has a shoe only on one foot; she must needs have time\nto put on the other shoe also.\n\n\u201cHusband,.... here she is coming,.... but she has put on only one\nglove,.... give her time to put on the other!\u201d\n\nWhen the young bride appears at last, the good hostess of Pohjola is\nsuddenly deeply concerned for her:--\n\n\u201cO wife, O purchased maid, O dove that has been sold! My sister, my\npoem, my green branch, how many tears you will shed!\n\n\u201cYour family were very eager to have the money paid down for you in the\nhollow of a shield.\n\n\u201cPoor ignorant girl, you thought you were leaving the paternal roof for\na few hours, for a day, perhaps! Alas! You have surrendered forever, you\nhave a master now!\u201d {233}And then turning once more to Ilmarinnen, she\nadds:--\n\n\u201cO husband, brother of my brothers, do not teach this child, the slave,\nwhip in hand, the way she must walk.\n\n\u201cDo not make her cry under the rod or under the stick; teach her gently,\nin a soft voice, with closed doors.\n\n\u201cThe first year by words, the second year by a frown, the third year by\ngently pressing her foot. Be patient!\n\n\u201cIf, after three years, she is unwilling to learn, O husband, brother of\nmy brothers, take a few slender reeds, take a little broom-sedge,\nchastise her, but with a rod covered with wool.\n\n\u201cIf she still resists, well; cut a twig in the woods, a willow branch,\nnot too stout, and hide it beneath your garment. Let no one guess what\nis going to happen.\n\n\u201cAbove all, do not strike her hands nor her face; for her brother might\nwell ask you: Has a wolf bitten her? Her father might well say to you:\nHas a bear torn her thus?\u201d\n\nDoes not this Saga, with all its harsh allusions, breathe a most\ntouching tenderness? It seems that the most delicate sentiments\nwere preserved intact amid the coarsest manners and the most violent\npassions. What was your name, O na\u00efve muse of {234}Finland, who inspired\nthe good hostess of Pohjola? Were you not perhaps a daughter of those\nbeautiful Indian gandharvas, who said,--\n\n\u201cThe elephant is led by a rope, the horse by a bridle, and a woman by\nher heart.\u201d\n\nAnd does it not remind us of our humble and simple-minded neighbors,\nwhen we hear how this Eternal Blacksmith, this first-class god who has\nmade heaven and earth, who buys a wife and beats her, expresses his fear\nof the reproaches of his brother-in-law and his father-in-law?\n\nAfter this pause we must go on describing the other armies of gods\nwho had hastened to the banks of the Rhine in order to resist a common\nenemy.\n\nBy the side of the heavenly representatives of Scythia and Sarmatia,\nof Prussia and Finland, we find other gods belonging to the different\nSlavonic races. But why should we repeat here a complete list of all\nthis multitude of allies, whose curious names the most retentive memory\ncould not possibly retain?\n\nSuffice it to say that the Lithuanians, the Moravians, the Silesians,\nBohemians, and Russians were represented at this meeting by their most\nformidable deities. There was Ilia, the great archer, whose arrows hit\nthe mark after having passed through a thickness of nine fir trees;\nRadgost, the {235}merciless destroyer; Flintz, the skeleton god, who\nbore a lion\u2019s head on his shoulders and drove a chariot of flames;\nand the giant Yaga-Baba, whose head reached high above the loftiest\nmountains. When a warrior was seized with fear before he beheld the\nenemy, he immediately took him from the ranks and brayed him in a wooden\nmortar with an iron pestle.\n\nAll four of them brought in their retinue whole battalions of Strygi\nor blood-suckers, of voracious Trolls, Marowitzes, and Kikimoras, who\nsmothered their victims; of Polkrans and Leschyes, the latter a kind of\ndwarf satyrs, who could at will change into giants, and the former half\nmen and half dogs, singing and barking alternately. Their songs,\nas fearful as their barkings, spread terror around them, and they\nthemselves killed at a hundred yards\u2019 distance by the venom of their\nbreath.\n\nSuch were the allies whom the Roman and Scandinavian gods arrayed\nagainst Christianity.\n\nWhen the new comers had been properly organized, Jupiter\u2019s eagle rose\nabove the clouds, uttered three piercing cries, turning to the three\npoints of the horizon, and at once from the East, from the West, and\nfrom the South, there came forth the gods of Rome and Greece, abandoning\ntheir mysterious retreats. There was Neptune with his Tritons, his\nHarpies, and his marine monsters; and {236}there was Pluto with his\nFates, his Furies, and his whole host from hell.\n\nOdin struck his buckler, and from the far North came not only the gods\nand the Valkyrias, with the heroes of Walhalla, but even the adversaries\nof the Ases,--Hela, the wolf Fenris, the Giants of the Frost with Loki\nat their head,--and all enlisted under him to take part in the immense\nslaughter.\n\nNever had the armies of a Darius, an Alexander, an Attila, or a\nCharlemagne, presented a more imposing and more terrible aspect; nor has\nthe world ever seen the like since.\n\nWhen the Sibyls and the Norns, the augurs and the witches had been\nconsulted, the march began.\n\nA few miles from the other side of the river, in the direction of\nArgentoratum (Strasbourg), about half way up the slope of a gentle hill,\nthere stood a little chapel which had not been quite finished.\n\nThe Sibyls and Druidesses had pointed out this building as the end of\nthe first day\u2019s march, not doubting but that the god of the Christians\nwould appear at the head of his legions, to defend his temple.\n\nThe Confederates were advancing silently under cover of the night\nin order to surprise the enemy, whom they thought fully prepared for\nresistance. Odin was in command of the right wing of the {237}army,\nJupiter of the left. The Scythian, Sarma-tian, Borussian, and Finnish\ndeities under the orders of Tahiti, Perun, Percunos, Wainamoinen, and\nRadgost, commanded the centre.\n\nAs soon as they came in sight of the hill, they noticed a very peculiar\ntwinkling light, which shone out from the deep darkness, and was\nsurrounded below by a circle of light.\n\nImmediately the three light-footed messengers of the Roman, Slavonic,\nand Scandinavian gods, Mercury, Algis, and Hermode, were sent out to\nreconnoitre, accompanied by the Eumenides, the Valkyrias, and a small\ndetachment of Lapithes and Centaurs. When they returned they reported\nthat the light proceeded from the flaming swords of ten thousand\ndestroying angels. They were quite sure of it.\n\nSome of the allies immediately rushed forth, as is the usage in all epic\nbattles, to challenge the chiefs of the angels to single combat. But\nJupiter and Odin, thinking that all these private contests can only\njeopardize the success of the great battle, compelled them to obey\norders.\n\nThor, who had been one of the first to rush forth, was so much\ndisappointed, that in his anger he let his heavy mace fall upon a little\ntown that was on their route, and that might possibly have impeded the\nprogress of the army. The mace {238}instantly returned to the hand of\nthe owner, and then fell and returned again and again.\n\n[Illustration: 258]\n\nThe barking of Cerberus, the three-headed dog, of his brother dog Garm,\nand the howlings of the Strygi, the Kikimoras, and the Polkrans.\n\nThis was by no means all of the concert.\n\nMars, Odin, Potrympos, and the other war-gods now drew their swords,\nwhich produced a fearful grating sound as they came out of their\nsheaths; next Jupiter sounds his thunder among the Romans, and after him\nthunder Perun among the Slaves, Ukko among the Finns, and Thor among\nthe Scandinavians. The repeated crash of thunder. And thanks to this\nincident, the plain had been cleared and levelled at the same time, and\nthe signal for the attack was given at once. The Corybantes beat their\ndrums in muffled tones; the chants of the Bards and the Skalds responded\nfrom the right and the left wing, although their harps were soon drowned\nin the bleat of the trumpets, the furious {239}lightning mingles with\nthe rumbling of the chariots of Tabiti, of Flintz, the skeleton god,\nand of Pocu-los and Stribog, the gods of waterspouts and of Northern\ntempests; the Egipans, the Cyclops, the blacksmiths of Ilmarinnen, begin\nto push immense masses of rock before them, brandishing entire oak trees\nas spears; while the Giants of the Frost with fearful clamor, which is\ntaken up by the whole army of invaders, follow them, led by the equally\ngigantic Yaga-Baba, the terrible conductor of such an infernal concert,\nwho marks the time by beating with his iron pestle upon his wooden\nmortar.\n\n[Illustration: 259]\n\nAll these fearful noises, all these echoing explosions, seem to confound\nheaven and earth; the {240}horizon trembles and shakes, the mountains\nstart and stagger.\n\nBut the holy hill stands unmoved.\n\nThe light which at first shone only at the base has gradually risen as\nhigh as the summit, and the little chapel now shines brightly like a\nbrilliant constellation.\n\nSurprised at seeing no enemy appear, the army of the pagan gods makes a\nhalt.\n\nSuddenly, O miracle! lifted up as if by a gust of wind from on high,\nthe little chapel vanishes, and in its place is seen a simple altar\nsurmounted by a cross.\n\nBefore this altar stands a young maid, showing neither ornament nor\nweapon of defense,--a Virgin barefooted, with a child in her arms.\n\nShe comes down the hill, a smile on her lips; the brilliant light still\nencircles her brow and the brow of the infant; she comes straight up to\nthe allied gods, who begin to look at each other in utter consternation.\n\nShe draws nearer, and all of a sudden an irresistible panic seizes\nJupiter and Odin, Mars and Thor, Wainomoinen and Perun, together with\nthe Eumenides, the Tassanis, the Cyclops, and the Giants, and all turn\nback towards the river, cross it in fearful disorder, and crush each\nother in their desperate flight, while their own temples and {241}their\nown statues fall to pieces in the universal destruction.\n\nSome of these were buried in the Rhine, where we shall hereafter find\nthem once more; the remainder reached in sad condition their northern\nhomes, abandoning almost the whole of Germany to Jesus and Mary.\n\nIt is but right to notice that in all the traditions which speak of this\nstruggle between the gods and the rising religion of Christ, no mention\nis ever made of the Teut and the Esus of the Celts, the Alfader of the\nScandinavians, the Jumala of the Finns, and the Bog of the Slaves,--nor\nis the Unknown God of the Romans ever mentioned. The reason is that\neach one of these grand deities, like the Indra of the Indian heaven,\ncontained all the others and represented to the mind the idea of the\nonly one eternal God.\n\nThis grand but vain effort of the pagan gods was made, according to\ntradition, about the year 510 of the Christian era. In the course of the\nsame year King Clovis determined to erect a temple in honor of Christ\nwhich should be worthy of Him, and laid the foundation of the Minster\nat Strasbourg, perhaps with a design to replace the little chapel, which\nhad disappeared in so miraculous a manner.\n\n[Illustration: 265]\n\n\n\n\nX.\n\n{245}_Marietta and the Sweet-briar.--Esus and Jesus.--A malgam--\nA Neophyte.--Prohibition to eat Horse-flesh.--Bishops in\nArms.--Interruption.--Come Home, my Good Friend!--Prussia and the Myths\nof the Middle Ages.--Tybilimts, the Black God.--The little Blue Flower._\n\nAll who know me and esteem me will testify to my great natural modesty.\nEven when I have {246}to do with fables, I would not venture to\ninvent the smallest thing; I am incapable of committing such a crime.\nNevertheless, some of my incredulous readers, when they see the\nmarvelous nature of the poem, in which the triumph of Jesus and Mary\nover the allied pagan gods was celebrated, might possibly fancy it to be\na product of my imagination. In self-defense I feel bound to quote here\none of the countless traditions which allude to this great event. I once\nmore borrow from the Muse of the Finns.\n\n\u201cThere lived in those days a virgin who was so pure, so pure and chaste,\nthat her eyes had never seen anything but the eyes of her sisters, that\nher hands had never yet touched a being in creation for the purpose of\ncaressing it.\n\n\u201cShe lived alone in her chamber, in company with her distaff, and\nignorant of what happened even within the narrow circle of shadows which\nthe sun traced around her house, and the image of a man was as foreign\nto her eyes as it was to her mind. Her thoughts and her eyes had alike\nkept their chastity perfect.\n\n\u201cShe was called Marietta.\n\n\u201cOne day, on a fine spring morning, Marietta felt a vague and\nincomprehensible desire to enjoy the beauties of Nature. Her heart rose\nwithin her with strange emotion. {247} \u201cImpelled rather by a desire of\nher own than by a command from on high, she opened her door and hastened\nto a meadow inclosed with a hedge, which was near the house.\n\n\u201cIn this hedge a sweet-briar was in bloom. She drew near to inhale the\nfragrance; she touched the flower, and that was all that was needed.\nMarietta became a mother, and when her son was born she felt by the\nboundless pride that filled her heart, that she had given birth to a\ngod.\n\n\u201cIn the mean time the other gods of her own country and of the adjoining\ncountries had been warned by their prophetesses that this child, born\nof a virgin and a flower, would one day drive them out of heaven; they\nassembled, fully armed and determined that mother and child must both\ndie so as to prevent the threatened catastrophe.\n\n\u201cAt the moment when they were holding their secret councils, Marietta\nappeared in their midst holding her infant in her arms, and all these\ngods, who had until now wielded such absolute power, fled in dismay to\nthe far North, and the icy gates of the North Pole closed behind them.\u201d\n\nThis is the story of Marietta and her child Jesus.\n\nIt would certainly seem as if this na\u00efve account, well known among the\nancient legends of Finland, was nothing less than a slight sketch of\nthat great epic poem which we have laid before our readers. {248}We have\nonly filled out the details by the aid of similar documents.\n\nHenceforth Christianity enjoyed the results of that great day at\nArgentoratum. At a later period the conquered gods, it is true, showed\nonce more signs of resistance on isolated points, but from the first,\nthis triumph of Mary and Jesus, and perhaps also the victories obtained\nby King Clovis, changed the first dawn of Christianity in Germany into a\nkind of purifying conflagration, which spread rapidly from the Rhine to\nthe Weser and from the Weser to the Danube.\n\nCurious circumstances sometimes came to its assistance. Thus, many\nTeutons had been taught by their Druid teachers to acknowledge but one\nsingle God, and this primitive doctrine naturally reconciled them to\nthe new creed. But, more than that, the particular god whom they thus\nacknowledged, was called _Esus_, almost Jesus! Others had followed the\nexample of the Slaves and worshipped the handle of their swords, which\nbore the form of a cross; they naturally recognized in the Christian\ncross a familiar emblem of protection and safety. Even baptism was in\nno way distasteful to the followers of Odin. They readily adopted, it in\nmemory of the regular and regenerative ablutions with water which their\nancient creed prescribed. Odin had said to them in the Runic chapter of\nthe {248}Edda: \u201cIf I wish a man never to perish in combat, _I sprinkle\nhim with water soon after his birth?_\u201d\n\nFinally, this just man, put to death by wicked men, this risen Christ,\nreminded them forcibly of their own god Balder. Evidently the predicted\ntime had come. Balder, the ancient prisoner of Niflheim, was about to\nrenew the world; in his new shape, the Bright God was no longer the son\nof Frigg; he was now Mary\u2019s son and his name was Jesus.\n\nThis disposition, however, although plainly shown in many parts of\nGermany, was by no means unanimous.\n\nAt the table of King Clovis, the bishops, and Saint Reni himself, were\ncompelled to sit by the side of Scandinavian Druids. When they intoned\ntheir Benedicite, the latter never failed to pour out their libations\nin honor of Asa-Thor and Asa-Freyr. In spite of all the heroic and\nindefatigable efforts of the priests, polytheism survived even among the\nnew converts, who would walk devoutly in the processions of Christian\nworship, while they carried their idols and their fetishes under their\narms, and who never failed to make the sign of the cross when\nthey passed a tree or a spring that had been held sacred by their\nforefathers. What could be done to make them sincere and orthodox\nChristians? {250}Liberty, in the sense in which we understand it now,\nand have good reason to understand it, would have appeared to a Teuton\nor a Slave as a beautiful woman, with a wooden yoke around her neck and\nall her limbs in chains. Germany had her laws, as well as every other\nNorthern country her written or unwritten laws, but the dignity of a\nfreeborn man consisted mainly in disregarding these laws. The free man\nleft his country, to engage in war wherever he chose, and his family,\nto live in any country he might prefer. It was the same thing with\nreligious matters; he reserved to himself his independent judgment,\nthe right to worship as he chose and the privilege of combining such\narticles of creed as pleased him.\n\nThis curious freedom of religion, this curious amalgamation of creeds,\nproduced the strange result, that the neophytes especially remained half\npagan and half Christian, and preferred generally to \u201cride on the fence\u201d\n between the two creeds.\n\nIn the Nibelungen Lied, which we look upon as nothing more than a great\nepic poem of the Scandinavians, pagan at first but Christianized at\na later period, men are represented as going devoutly to church after\nhaving consulted the Nix of the river as to their future fate. This is,\nno doubt, a true picture of the Germany of the early Christian days.\n{251}Some looked upon baptism, with its magnificent and pompous\nceremonies, as a pleasure; others submitted to it for a consideration.\nOzanam, who is exceedingly well informed about everything that refers\nto this curious period of transition in point of religion, tells the\nfollowing anecdote:--\n\n[Illustration: 271]\n\nOne day there was a crowd of candidates for baptism; each one of them\nwas, as usual, dressed in white, as emblematic of purity. This symbolic\ndress, made of a suitable material, was a present from the Church to\nthe neophyte, which he had carefully to preserve as an evidence of his\nconversion.\n\nNow, on that day, all the available robes had been given away, when one\nmore candidate for baptism presented himself; the priest found at last a\nrobe of light color, but unfortunately in wretched condition.\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d exclaimed the neophyte, angrily drawing back; \u201chave\nI not a right to claim a white robe as well as the others, and one of\nfine wool?\u201d and looking furiously at the priest he added: \u201cDo you think\nI am a man to be taken {252}in? This is the twentieth time that I am\nbaptized, and I have never been offered such rags before!\u201d\n\nThe na\u00efve candor of this good Teuton could make me almost believe that\nhe misunderstood the nature of the ceremony altogether, and looked upon\nit only as a gratuitous distribution of wearing apparel.\n\nOther more painful mistakes were made when the Christian missionaries,\ncrossing rivers and seas at the risk of their lives, went to the\nuttermost confines of Germany, and there encountered half savage nations\nwho were still worshipping the Scandinavian gods.\n\nThe patient zeal, the gentleness, and the eloquence of these holy men,\nsucceeded finally in overcoming the convictions of these barbarians, and\nin introducing among them not only the Gospel, but also the worship of\nsaints. The people received baptism, and not only welcomed the saints\nwith great eagerness and enthusiasm, but in their desire to do them all\nthe honor in their power, they hastened to turn every one of them into\na god! They erected altars to these new gods, and on these altars they\noffered them human sacrifices.\n\nThese same missionaries had been instructed to prohibit the use of\nhorseflesh among the new converts; but they found it very difficult\nto overcome a custom which at that time was very general. {253}We can\nhardly, at the present day, understand the importance which the Church\nattached to this abstinence, since now-a-days the best of people are\nperfectly willing to allow their horses to be taken from their stables\nfor the purpose of being served up at table!\n\n[Illustration: 273]\n\nThe most serious difficulty in all such critical periods is this, that\nwhile the true and faithful clergymen by their prodigious labors and\nadmirable self-devotion succeeded in converting and disciplining\ngreat multitudes, false priests appeared among them, taking forcible\npossession of parishes and bishoprics, often without waiting till they\nbecame vacant. Pepin of Heristal and Charles Martel, his son, had just\ncompelled the pagan Saxons to take refuge behind the Weser. When the\nwar was over and they proceeded to dismiss the commanders of {254}this\nnumerous army till the beginning of another campaign, as was the custom\nin those days, the majority among them claimed, as a reward for services\nrendered, the right to exchange the sword for the crozier and the helmet\nfor the mitre. They evidently thought that the profession was an easy\none to practice and rich in rewards.\n\nPepin and Charles resisted, but they had to give way.\n\nTo the great disgust of the newly converted populations and to the great\ninjury of the holy cause, which they professed to have served, these\nwarrior-priests brought with them into the Church the manners of\nthe camp and the fortress. They surrounded themselves with squires,\nfalconers, and riding-masters, with horses and hounds; they hawked, they\nhunted, they lived high, giving themselves up to all kinds of excesses,\nand drawing the sword against any one who should venture to reproach\nthem.\n\nWhen war began once more, they almost all returned to arms, without,\non that account renouncing their ecclesiastic duties. Gerold, Bishop of\nMayence, perished in a battle against the Saxons; his son succeeded\nhim on the episcopal throne, and had hardly been consecrated when\nhe proceeded to avenge his father. He rushes into battle, challenges\nGerold\u2019s murderer, kills him, and quietly returns to {255}Mayence for\nthe purpose of officiating there at Mass and of returning thanks to God\nfor his success.\n\nSuch acts of violence and such worldly enjoyments were incomprehensible\nto the faithful; gradually the Church of the Apostles began to fear\nthe Church of the Soldiers. The Saxons, having vastly increased their\nnumbers by an alliance with the Scythians and Scandinavians, appeared\nonce more in the field.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d exclaims the reader, whom I fancy I hear at this distance, \u201cbut\nthis is history, church history moreover, and you told us you would tell\nus all about gods!\u201d\n\nI confess I did, sir; and that is the reason why I have traced out, on\nthis historical ground, the narrowest and shortest possible path, on\nwhich I can safely return to my own domain.\n\n\u201cWell, then, let us return, my good friend.\u201d\n\nI beg your pardon, sir, but before we return, allow me at least\nto glorify three men, who were called upon at that time to save\nChristianity, and with it civilization, by the pen, the word, and the\nsword. These equally great and equally heroic men are now three of our\nsaints.\n\n\u201cSaints again!\u201d\n\nYes, sir, the first is Pope Gregory, the second Saint Boniface the\nmissionary, and the third the Emperor Charlemagne. Do not be afraid; I\nshall {256}do no more than mention them, for fear of going again out\nof my way and of speaking of forbidden subjects, against which you have\nwarned me. Allow me, however, to add that if the struggle which the\ngreat Emperor undertook, was a long and ter-tible one, it was also\nglorious far beyond all. Was it not marvelous, I ask you, to see\nthis nation of Franks, which but just now consisted of a mixture of\nbarbarians, go forth under the command of their young king, to become\nthe protector of Rome, of civilization, and of Christianity? The mace\nhad become a shield, the siege-ram a wall and a rampart.\n\n\u201cOf course! Everybody knows that!\u201d\n\nBut, did you know this, sir: When the Saxons, conquered for the tenth\ntime, had received baptism, together with their king Witikind, when the\nRhine, also baptized, had become a French river and a Christian river,\nwhen the whole of Germany bowed low before the cross, one of the nations\nof that country, the Borussians (Pruszi, or Prussians), refused to give\nup their old gods, and continued to refuse for several centuries to\ncome? And yet it was so. The proscribed gods, finding a refuge on the\nbanks of the Oder and the Spree, paid frequent visits, as was quite\nnatural, to their former followers. It was thus that the old pagan creed\nwas long preserved in the remote regions of Germany. You see, sir, I\nhave returned to my subject. {257}Let us rapidly conclude this first\npart of our task, so as to reach at last the modern gods, who were as\npopular as the others, and in their way neither less strange nor less\ncurious.\n\nDuring the time of the Middle Ages, Germany had been filling up with\ntowns and castles, feudal dungeons bearing aloft a helmet and a\ncross. The cross arose wherever two streets met in a city and at every\ncross-road in the country; the most beautiful cathedrals in the world\nand the most magnificent monasteries were reflected in her broad river;\nand still, in field and forest, in city and country, and along the banks\nof the Rhine, the false gods were worshipped in secret.\n\nAs the church taught that they were to be looked upon as demons, the\npeople dared not treat them badly. Demons are not guests to be turned\nout rudely.\n\n\u201cFrom the eighth century of our Christian era,\u201d says one of our erudite\nauthorities, \u201cthe Saxons and Sarmatians heard the Christian missionaries\nspeak so continually of the formidable power of Satan, that they thought\nit best to worship him secretly in order to disarm his wrath and perhaps\nto win his favor. They called him the Black God or _Tybilinus_; the\nGermans call him, even now, _Dibel or Teufel_.\u201d\n\nThis Black God now became for all the German {258}nations the army\nleader of their proscribed gods, an army which was presently to be\nlargely increased.\n\nThe princes and knights, followed by their vassals, departed in large\nnumbers, on the Crusades, but they brought back from the Crusades,\ntogether with holy relics, traditions of Gnomes, Peris, and Undines.\n\n[Illustration: 278]\n\nThe Rhine, disgusted at the loss of his royal dignity, and determined to\ntake his vengeance on the warrior-bishops, received these last arrivals\nas he had those who came before. In his healing waters the Undines\nmingled with the Tritons and the Naiads; the Gnomes found shelter under\nthe rocks, where they were hospitably received by the Dwarfs, and in the\nevening twilight the Nymphs, the Elves, and the Dryads danced once more\nmerrily in company with Sylphs, Fairies, and Peris.\n\nNo doubt Christian Germany looked afterwards at all this more in the\nlight of food for the imagination than of trouble for the conscience,\nbut in that happy land, where people believe and dream {259}at the same\ntime, and where the words of the poet are as true as the Gospel, the\nimagination easily gets the better of conscience. Thus the search after\nthe little blue flower led many a learned man astray, far off into half\nsatanic paths. Besides, it lies in the nature of the German mind, which\nhas always a tendency towards idealism, its magnetic pole, to oppose to\nthe orthodox religion another more secret and more mysterious creed.\n\n[Illustration: 279]\n\nThis was the case already in the fourteenth and {260}fifteenth century;\nit is the case still in this, the nineteenth century, especially among\nthe country people, who have passed through the age of witchcraft in\nwhich the Black God ruled supreme, and, completely modifying their pagan\nnotions, have transferred their Olympus to the Brocken, the mountain of\nthe Witches\u2019 Sabbath.\n\nLet us now see what the dwellers on the banks of the Rhine have done\nwith all their old gods and demi-gods of every denomination.\n\n[Illustration: 283]\n\n\n\n\nXI.\n\n{263}Elementary Spirits of Air, Fire, and Water.--_Sylphs,\ntheir Amusements and Domestic Arrangements.--Little Queen Mab.\n--Will-o\u2019-the-Wisps.--White Elves and Black Elves.--True Causes of\nNatural Somnambulism.--The Wind\u2019s Betrothed.--Fire-damp.--Master\nHaemmerling.--The Last of the Gnomes._\n\nThe reader is requested to recall what I have said before, that in\nGermany manners, customs, and creeds, matters of prejudice as well as\nmatters of art, and even of science, may have a beginning, {264}but\nnever have an end. In that ancient home of mysticism and of philosophy,\neverything is permanently rooted, everything is made for eternity, like\nthose old oak trees of the Hercynia of antiquity: when the parent tree\nis cut down, and has no longer a trunk to bear boughs and branches,\nit sends forth new shoots from the roots. Druidism also has become\npermanent there. We have seen it fight against the gods of the Romans;\nit fought in like manner against Christianity under Witikind; it was\nkept alive, though in concealment, by the first iconoclasts or image\nbreakers, and when that whole vast country was at last conquered and\nbecame wholly devoted to Catholicism, it broke forth once more quite\nunexpectedly in the first days of the Reformation. Luther was a Druid\nstill.\n\nThanks to this tenacity of life which characterizes creeds, and thanks\nto the prolific nature of that soil, whatever seems to have disappeared,\nrises again, under new forms, and whatever has perished is recalled to\nlife in some way or other. Let us prove this.\n\nAmong all those gods which we have mentioned before, none surely would\nseem to have been more readily forgotten, swept away by the wind, which\nthey claimed to render useless, or buried in the dust with which they\nseemed to compete, than those tiny, microscopic deities, called Monads.\n{265}And yet this was by no means the case. Did they not, in fact,\nrepresent the elementary spirits? And the worship of the elements\ncontinued in spite of all other creeds which tried to suppress it\nforever.\n\nOnly these atomic deities, still quite small, exceedingly small, had\nincreased in the most astonishing manner, when compared with their\noriginal diminutiveness. They had even assumed a form and a body, a\nvisible body and a shape by no means void of grace.\n\nThey had become Alps or Alfs, better known afterwards under their\nEastern designation of Sylphs.\n\nIt happened occasionally that a belated traveller, a peasant or a\ncharcoal burner, returning homeward from a wedding towards the beginning\nof night, would be fortunate enough to meet at a clearing in the woods\nor on the banks of a brook with a band of little goblins, who were\nmaking merry in the dim twilight.\n\nThese were Sylphs, a little people flying in swarms through the air,\nmaking their nest in a flower or building one with a few bits of grass\nat the foot of a broom-sedge, and going out only in the evening to pay\nvisits and as good neighbors to perform their social duties.\n\nIf the traveller, the peasant, or the charcoal burner {266}had walked\nsoftly on the fine sand of the brook or on a grass-grown path on which\nhis steps could not be heard, and if he had then stopped in time so as\nto be able to see without being seen, he might witness their gambols and\nascertain the secrets of their private life, without running any risk.\n\n[Illustration: 286]\n\nHave you, dear reader, have you heard Mercutio, in Shakespeare\u2019s \u201cRomeo\nand Juliet,\u201d relate how Queen Mab came, and say:--{267}\n\n     \u201cOh, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you.....\n     Her wagon spokes made of long spinners\u2019 legs,\n     The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,\n     The traces of the smallest spider\u2019s web,\n     The collars of the moonshine\u2019s watery beams,\n     Her whip of cricket\u2019s bone, the lash of film,\n     Her wagoner, a small, gray-coated gnat!\u201d\n\nWell, the peasant, the traveller, or the charcoal burner, enjoyed a\nsight which was by no means less curious.\n\nSome of his Sylphs, suspending a thread of gossamer from one blade of\ngrass to another, made a delightful swing for their amusement, or took a\nspiders web to supply them with a hammock. Others danced wildly about\nin the air, beating their tiny wings with harmonious accuracy and\nfurnishing thus an orchestra for the aerial ball.\n\nNot far from them some little sylph ladies, no doubt excellent\nhousekeepers, were washing their linen in the beams of the moon, or\npreparing a feast.\n\nThe provisions consisted of a mixture of honey with the nectar of\nflowers, a few drops of milk which the hanging udders of young heifers\nhad left on the high grass, and a few pearls of that precious dew which\naromatic plants secrete; this mixture was used as a seasoning for some\nbutterfly-eggs beaten up white as snow.\n\nIf during the repast darkness fell upon them and {268}suddenly\ncovered the guests with its sombre cloak, other hobgoblins, the\nWill-o\u2019-the-Wisps, with wings of fire, came and took seats at the\nhospitable table, paying for their entertainment by diffusing a pleasant\nlight all over the place.\n\nThe principal occupation of these elves consisted in walking before\nthe wanderer who had lost his way so as to lead him back again into the\nright path.\n\nSuch were some of the harmless spirits of Air and Fire. Everything\nhas, however, been changed in these two elements. The Will-o\u2019-the-Wisps\nespecially, angry at the reports of wicked people, that they are nothing\nmore than the products of burning hydrogen, or at best phosphorus in\na volatile form floating above damp places, have conceived a veritable\nhatred against men and now only appear when they wish to tempt\ntravellers into marshes and deep ravines.\n\nAs to the Sylphs, they also seem to have heard similar stories which\nhave been told about them, or they may have been irritated by the\nchemist Liebig, who in his \u201cTreatise on the Composition of the Air,\u201d\n absolutely denies their existence, having found in his apparatus neither\nSylphs nor Sylphides.\n\nThey have changed into faithless Elves, hostile to men, like the other\nGnomes.{269}\n\n[Illustration: 289]\n\n{271}The Fairies of our day are divided into two formidable classes.\n\nThe White Fairies are damsels who wander about on meadows and in woods,\nlike the Willis of the Slaves, and lie in wait for inexperienced young\nmen, whom they persuade to join in their dances and keep dancing, till\nthey lose their breath and generally fall to the ground never to rise\nagain. German stories are full of such wicked tricks. The place where\nthey perform their diabolic dances, becomes quite silvery under their\nfeet. The shepherds can thus at once recognize the place where they have\nbeen, and are sure to hasten away at once with their flocks.\n\n[Illustration: 291]\n\nThe Black Fairies personify Nightmare and Somnambulism, but only Natural\nSomnambulism, it must be borne in mind. {272}When men fall into this\nstate, the Black Elf directs all the motions of the sleeper; he lives in\nhim, thinks and acts for him, makes him get upon the furniture and climb\nupon roofs, and keeps him from falling, unless... Poor sleeper, he allowed\nthem breath enough to swell the sails of a vessel or to chase the clouds\nfrom one end of the heavens to another.\n\nAmong the Celts all magicians had been able to command the winds and\nthe tempests at will; even now certain men in Norway and in Lapland will\nsell you, for a small price, the wind you desire to carry you home.\n\nCareful! The Black Fairies are treacherous and cruel; the Fairy who\ncontrols you for the moment may at any moment take a fancy to throw you\nfrom your height.\n\n[Illustration: 292]\n\nThe Alfs, who have thus become Elves or Fairies, are of course not the\nonly Spirits of the Air; their fragile and delicate structure would\nnever have al{272}In Germany, on the contrary, the wind was looked upon\nas an elementary power. It was not deified, as in Rome, where there was\na whole windy family of gods, like Eurus, \u00c6olus, Boreas, and Favonius,\nbut it was an important personage, with a will of his own and\nindependent action. The poets did their part to give importance to\n_Master Wind._\n\nI have in my hand a ballad, which will enable the reader to judge for\nhimself:--\n\n\u201cGretchen, the pretty miller\u2019s daughter, was courted by the son of the\nking. Her father, the miller, knowing that kings\u2019 sons are not apt to\nmarry, had chosen her a husband, a young flour merchant from Rotterdam.\n\n\u201cThe Dutchman was on his way up the Rhine; that very evening he was\nexpected to arrive, to make his proposals.\n\n\u201cGretchen called upon Master Wind to help her; he came in by the window,\nbut not without breaking a number of panes.\n\n\u201c\u2018What do you wish me to do?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018A man wants to marry me, against my will; he is coming in a sail boat;\ncontrive it so that he cannot land at Bingen.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe wind blew, and blew so well that the boat, instead of coming up to\nBingen, was driven back again as far as Rotterdam. {274} \u201cAt Rotterdam\nalso it could not make land; it was driven into the North Sea, and there\nthe Dutchman is perhaps still sailing about at this day.\n\n\u201cBut Master Wind had made his conditions before he went to work blowing\nso well; and the pretty miller\u2019s daughter had agreed to them without\nhearing them, for all around her the furniture, the doors, and the\nblinds were shaking and rattling furiously, thanks to her visitor. Thus\nit came about that poor Gretchen found herself betrothed to Master Wind,\nwhich made her very sad, for now she had less hope than ever of marrying\nthe king\u2019s son.\n\n\u201cHowever, Master Wind was as gallant towards his fair betrothed as he\ncould be. Every morning, when she opened her window, he would throw\nher in beautiful bouquets of flowers which he had torn off in the\nneighboring gardens.\n\n\u201cIf any young man of the village, whom she had rejected, passed without\nsaluting her, Master Wind was promptly at hand to carry off his hat\nand send it up in the air so high, that soon it looked no bigger than a\nlark. It was well for him that Master Wind did not, with the hat, take\nhis head off at the same time.\n\n\u201cOne day (when Master Wind must have been asleep), the king\u2019s son came\nto the mill, made his {275}way without difficulty to Gretchen\u2019s chamber,\nand forthwith desired to kiss her. Gretchen did not object. But at once,\nand although out of doors all was quiet, the tables and chairs performed\na wild dance, and the doors and windows began to slam as if they had\nbeen mad.\n\n\u201cGretchen herself began to twirl around and around in the most\nunaccountable manner; her hair was loosened by an invisible hand and\nwhisked about her head with strange rustling and dismal whistling.\n\n\u201cTerrified by the sight of a tempest in a close room, the prince\ncried:--\n\n\u201c\u2018Ah! accursed one, you are the betrothed of Master Wind!\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd at the same moment a terrible gust of wind carried off the king\u2019s\nson, the miller\u2019s daughter, and the mill, and no one ever saw or heard\nanything more of them.\n\n\u201cPerhaps they went to join the Dutchman, who was all the time sailing\nabout in the North Sea, or the hat, which was still on its way in the\nclouds.\u201d\n\nThe legend does not tell us whether it was before or after this\noccurrence that Master Wind married Mistress Rain.\n\nSo much for the Spirits of the Air.\n\nAs for the Spirits of the Fire, it must be remembered {276}that the\nWill-o\u2019-the-Wisps were by no means their only representatives. There\nwere also Salamanders, too well known to be described here; and St.\nElmo Fires, near relations of the Will-o\u2019-the-Wisps. But we must pause\na moment to speak of the formidable Fire-damp, the miner\u2019s terror. The\nremarkable feature about it is that it plays so insignificant a part in\nthe popular German myths, although it has destroyed so many victims in\nall mountainous countries, and above all in the Hartz mountains.\n\nThis subterranean lightning, far more fatal than that of the upper\nregions, is known to the people of the Rhine simply as a tall monk, whom\nthey call Master Haemmerling.\n\nMaster Haemmerling visits the mines from time to time in the guise of a\nharmless amateur, or of an inspector, who is not fond of being hurried.\nHowever, on Fridays especially, he is subject to violent attacks of\nanger. If a laborer handles his pickaxe awkwardly, or if he is insolent\nto his master, or the master harsh to him and requiring too much, he is,\nquick as a flash of lightning, between them when they are as yet half\nway under ground. Then he suddenly draws his long legs together, and\nbetween his two knees crushes their heads with as little hesitation and\nceremony as a mother would show in destroying between her two thumbs the\n{277}little hateful insect that has troubled her darling child.\n\nNothing more need be said of the elementary spirits of Air and Fire;\nbut as we have followed Master Haemmerling into the lower depths of\nthe mountains, we might just as well remain there a while and make the\nacquaintance of the Gnomes, the Spirits of the Earth.\n\nCan you see, through the dense air which fills these immense caverns,\nthe long, gigantic stalactites, reaching from the ceiling to the\nfloor and strongly impregnated with iron? They are the columns of this\nsubterranean palace, and around these stalactites, peaceful, slumbering\nwaters form a kind of little lakes, the shores of which look as if they\nwere covered with rust.\n\nHere and there, in the damp low grounds, half choked with ore and slag\nof various kinds, dark reeds are growing in the shape of lizards; like\nlizards they bend backwards, moving their heads from side to side and\nshowing thus the diamond eye which shines brilliantly at the extreme\nend.\n\nThese dark depths seem to teem with fantastic creatures; close by a\nheap of grains of gold, stands immovable a watchful, silent guardian,\na griffin; a pack of black dogs, also guardians of the treasures hid in\nthis world of precious metals and {278}stones, are roaming incessantly\nalong the ceiling. On the sloping sides, dwarfs not larger than\ngrasshoppers, and jumping about like peas in the sieve of the winnower,\nare gathering right and left the tiny gold and silver spangles which\nare left at their disposal, while enormous toads are posted about as\nwatchmen.\n\nFinally, far back in the remotest part of these abysses the kings of\nthis empire are moving about; these thick-set men, with stout limbs and\nmonstrous heads, are the Gnomes.\n\nBut people hardly believe in Gnomes any longer; the hard-working miners\nwho ought to come every day in contact with them, deny their existence,\nand they have gradually passed into the class of fabulous beings.\n\nStill, I am told that as recently as last year, a pretty peasant girl\nfrom the neighborhood of Hamburg appeared on a certain evening at a\nball, with a large ruby on her finger. She professed to have received\nthis gem from an Earth Spirit, who had appeared to her at the entrance\nto the Faunus mines.\n\nThe gossips of the village were not satisfied, however, with the\naccount, and suspected the Gnome to have been an English Gnome, who\nwas travelling abroad for his health and courting pretty girls for his\namusement. This conviction {279}was so strong that the poor girl had to\nleave the country in disgrace.\n\nThis is the last Gnome that has been mentioned in that part of Germany.\n\n[Illustration: 299]\n\n[Illustration: 303]\n\n\n\n\nXII.\n\n{283}Elementary Spirits of the Water.--_Petrarch at Cologne.--Divine\nJudgment by Water.--Nixen and Undines.--A Furlough till Ten\no\u2019clock.--The White-footed Undine.--Mysteries on the Rhine.--The Court\nof the Great Nichus.--Nix-COBT, the Messenger of the Dead.--His Funny\nTricks.--I go in Search of an Undine._\n\n\u201cAfter leaving Aix-la-Chapelle, I had stopped at Cologne, on the left\nbank of the Rhine, which I then found completely covered with several\nrows of women, a countless and charming multitude....\n\n\u201cAdorned with flowers or aromatic herbs, the sleeves {284}pushed up above\nthe elbow, they dipped their soft white hands and arms into the river,\nmurmuring certain mysterious words which I could not understand.\n\n\u201cI questioned some people. They told me it was an ancient custom of the\ncountry. Thanks to these ablutions and certain prayers which accompanied\nthem, the river carried down with it all the diseases, which would\notherwise have attacked them during the coming year. I answered,\nsmilingly: \u2018How happy the people of the Rhine must be if the kind river\nthus takes all their sufferings to distant countries! The Po or the\nTiber have never been able to do as much for us.\u2019\u201d\n\nThese are the words which Petrarch wrote in one of his familiar letters,\nwritten on St. John\u2019s Eve.\n\nThis letter, as precious by its date as by its contents, proves beyond\nall question, that in the fourteenth century the Rhine was popularly\nworshipped and adored on the very days on which the summer solstice is\ncelebrated by bonfires after the manner of the old fire worshippers.\n\nUnfortunately the Christians ended by appealing to the elements, to Fire\nor Water, as to a judicial authority.\n\nThe popular notion that the elements were perfectly pure and would hence\ninstinctively reject every impure substance, led naturally to ordeals\n{285}by water. The accused was undressed; his hands and feet were tied\ncrosswise, the right hand to the left foot and the right foot to the\nleft hand, and thus bound he was thrown into a river or any watercourse\nthat was deep enough. If he floated, he was guilty and instantly burnt;\nif he sank and remained for some time at the bottom of the water, he was\nconsidered innocent--but he was drowned.\n\nHeinrich Heine, at least, tells us that this was the infallible result\nof justice in the Middle Ages, and the Middle Ages ended in Germany but\nyesterday.\n\nThere was also a trial by bread and cheese (_exorcismus panis hordeacei,\nvel casei, ad probationem veri_), but bread and cheese are not elements.\nLet us return to the elementary spirits of Water.\n\nDuring the great religious reaction which took place after the days\nof Charlemagne, all the mythological gods of rivers and streams\nhad gradually returned, more or less successfully, to their former\noccupations. The great Nix or Nichus, upon whom devolved the rule over\nall the rivers of Germany, was no other than the ancient Niord, a\nvery important deity and a kind of Northern Neptune. This very weighty\ndiscovery is due to the learned Mallet.\n\nNo doubt this god Niord was one of those who, on their disastrous flight\nfrom Argentoratum, had {286}fallen into the Rhine. They thought that he\nwas drowned, but he had only taken refuge in one of the lowest, almost\nunfathomable depths of the river. From this safe retreat the great\nNichus had defied the decrees of Councils and the anathemas of the\nChristians hurled against all elementary spirits alike; there he had\nsummoned the subaltern deities of sources, ponds, lakes, and smaller\nstreams, the nymphs of the banks, and the hideous, scaly monsters which\nswarmed at the bottom of the river. Organizing all these into a people,\nan escort, and an army, he had come forth and invaded at the head of his\nhost the banks of the Neckar and the Main, the Moselle and the Meuse,\nthe great tributaries of the Rhine, and governed the inhabitants of the\nbanks by terror. More than once he had extended his ravages far beyond\nthe plains, overthrowing churches that had but just been completed, and\ndrowning in his waters all the deserters from the altars of Odin.\n\nNiord was a wicked god, who had a fearful temper. He held his subjects,\nto whatever class they might belong, completely under his yoke, treating\nthem capriciously and cruelly, and making of the Rhine a hell of waters.\n\nIt is to this dark and damp kingdom of the great Nichus that we have to\ngo in order to make the acquaintance, not of his great dignitaries, but\n{287}of the very humblest and lowest of his subjects, the Nixen and the\nmale and female Undines, a race of anathematized demons, who make up, by\nthemselves, almost the whole population of this realm beneath the waters\nof the Rhine.\n\nWhat! Must we really count our beautiful Lore, the charming fairy\nLorelei, you who preferred death to the punishment of making all men\nfall in love with you, much as you loved men in general, must we count\nyou among the demons, evildoing and accursed sprites? No! How public\nopinion has stoutly held its own in defiance of all the decrees of the\nChurch. Nixen, like the Fairies, are by common consent divided into two\nclasses: Nixen proper, who are former pagan deities and not too much to\nbe dreaded, and female Nixen, almost always harmless and at times even\nuseful.\n\nIt is these latter only of whom we shall hereafter speak as Undines.\n\nThe Nixen of the first class are ever ready to assume any disguise that\nmay aid them in attaining their purpose. Some of them roam about in\ndeserted places near the banks of rivers; others have at times\nappeared in the neighboring towns, pretending to be foreign ladies of\ndistinction, or artists, generally great performers on the harp. Here\nthey have begun intrigues with credulous lovers or unlucky admirers.\nOthers appear at village {288}celebrations, mingling in the dance with\nsuch energy, that their partners are intoxicated, carried away, and,\nlosing their heads, think they continue to hear the sound of harps and\nviolins, while they are already far away, led on by imaginary music, and\nonly return to consciousness on the banks of the river, at the moment\nwhen they are about to sink helpless into the waters of the Rhine.\n\n[Illustration: 308]\n\nOne important point, however, must not be overlooked. To protect\none\u2019s self against the allurements of these accursed fairies, a bit of\nhorehound or marjoram is sufficient. We hope all who propose visiting\nthe Rhine will be careful always to keep such an herb on their person.\nBefore they take out their passports they ought always to pay a visit to\nan herbalist.\n\nThe second class of Nixen, the only one in which we are interested, the\nUndines, are, as far as I have been able to learn, the restless souls of\n{289}poor girls who, driven to despair by love, have thrown themselves\ninto the Rhine. Unfortunately German lovers, not very courageous at\nbest, are but too apt to seek relief in suicide.\n\n[Illustration: 309]\n\nAccording to the somewhat uncertain information for which I am indebted\nto my authorities or to my intercourse with the Rosahl family, the\nUndines {290}are born as human beings and very inferior in power to\nthe genuine Nixen. They live under the water exactly the same time they\nwould have lived on earth, if they had not voluntarily put an end\nto their existence. They are thus granted a kind of exceptional\nresurrection and have here a preliminary purgatory, in which they but\ntoo frequently expiate, if not the sin of their love, at least that of\ntheir death.\n\nIn the lowest depths of the river, at the bottom of vast, submerged\ngrottoes, a secret tribunal, presided over by the great Nichus, holds\nits solemn meetings. Here they are disciplined with the utmost severity,\nas is abundantly proven by a great number of terrible stories, such as\nthe account of the three Undines of Sinzheim, which the two brothers\nGrimm report in their great work.\n\nThree young girls of marvelous beauty, three sisters, appeared every\nevening at the social meetings of Epfenbach, near Sinzheim and took\ntheir seats among the linen-spinners. They brought new songs and merry\nstories which no one had heard before. Where did they come from? No one\nknew, and no one dared to ask for fear of appearing suspicious. They\nwere the delight of these meetings, but as soon as the clock struck ten\nthey rose, and neither prayers nor supplications could induce them to\nstay a moment longer. {291}One evening the schoolmaster\u2019s son, who had\nfallen in love with one of them, undertook to prevent their departure\nat the usual hour; he put back the wooden clock, which usually gave them\nwarning.\n\n[Illustration: 311]\n\nThe next day some people from Sinzheim, who were walking by the side\nof the lake, heard groans rising from the depths of the lake, while the\nsurface was stained by three large spots of blood. From that time the\nthree sisters were never seen again at the evening assemblies, and\nthe school{292}master\u2019s son faded away gradually. He died very soon\nafterwards.\n\nThese three sisters, so gentle, so lovely and laborious, had in nothing\nbetrayed a connection with the spirits of the lower world. The only\nthing was, that people remembered how the hems of their garments had\nfrequently been wet, a sure sign by which Undines can be recognized.\nOtherwise they seem to have been very much like other girls, and the\nseverity of the great Nichus appears hardly reasonable.\n\nAs to this hour of ten o\u2019clock, however, military rules cannot be more\nrigorous than his.\n\nIt must, on the other hand, not be imagined that all Undines are as\ngentle and resigned as these three sisters. There are some who bitterly\nresent having been abandoned by their lovers, and try to revenge\nthemselves; these seem to partake to some degree of the character of\nthe Nixen, or rather,--why should we not say so at once and quite\ncandidly?--they remain faithful to their instincts as women.\n\nAs a proof of this statement I will quote a short but perfect little\ndrama, which Miss Margaret Rosahl has, at my request, copied from\nBusching\u2019s voluminous collection.\n\nCount Herman von Filsen, whose estates lay on the right bank of the\nRhine, between Oslerspey {293}and Brauback, was about to marry the rich\nheiress of the castle of Rheins, on the other bank. His messenger had\nstarted to carry the letters of invitation to all the guests, but a\nsudden rise of the waters had nearly prevented his crossing a small\nstream. In trying to get over, his horse stumbled, and was drowned. The\nmessenger, however, did not lose courage, but went on his way on foot.\nEverywhere he found the brooks swollen into streams, and the torrent\nseemed to press him more and more closely, describing curves and\nzigzags, with countless cataracts, barring him the way on all sides and\nmaking the usual path impassable.\n\nBy the aid of a huge stick and jumping from rock to rock, the poor, half\nbewildered man kept on, walking well-nigh at hap-hazard, till he found\nhimself near the Rhine, into which the swollen torrent, rushing after\nhim with sudden fury, seemed determined to push him.\n\nFortunately a small boat was lying quite near the shore: he loosened it,\ntook the oars, and returned to Filsen.\n\nWhen he reached the castle he said to the Count: \u201cSir, a Nix has barred\nme the way.\u201d\n\nThe Count did not believe in Nixen. He sent out another messenger. But\nthe same adventure befell him.\n\nThe wedding day had been fixed and the Count {294}went on, although he\nfeared his friends and followers would be few in number.\n\nOne morning, as he crossed the river from the right bank to the left,\nin order to pay a visit to his lady love, a sudden tempest broke out. He\nthought he saw a pale form arise from the waters, bending over the\nbow of the boat and trying to draw it down into the abyss beneath\nthe waters. Thereupon he became thoughtful, sent for his steward,\nand ordered him to find out what had become of a certain girl of the\nneighborhood, Gott-friede from Braubach.\n\n[Illustration: 314]\n\n{295} \u201cI met her a few days ago,\u201d replied the steward, \u201cas she was going\nto St. Marks Chapel, and I offered her holy water. Gottfriede asked me\nabout your approaching wedding. She was very well, and seemed to be in\ngood spirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo and see if you can find her,\u201d said the Count, \u201cand bring me word.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 315]\n\nDuring the wedding feast Hermann von Filsen appeared joyous and\nattentive to his bride, the new Countess, but the effort to appear so\ncaused his perspiration to break out profusely, especially when all of\na sudden a small woman\u2019s foot, white and delicate, appeared to his eyes,\nand to his only, on the ceiling of the dinner-hall.\n\nHe felt a chill in all his limbs. He rose suddenly {296}and fled to\nanother room, followed by his wife, his mother, and all the guests, who\nthought he had been seized with sudden illness.\n\nIn this room he saw, and he alone again saw, a white hand raise a\ncurtain and with the forefinger beckon him to follow.\n\nLong time ago Hermann had heard, without paying any attention at that\ntime to the statement, that such a small white foot and a small white\nhand indicated the presence of an Undine and the coming of an inevitable\ncalamity.\n\nNow he believed it.\n\nThe bishop, who had performed the marriage ceremony, was at the dinner.\nHermann went straight up to him, knelt down, and confessed aloud, and\nwith many tears, that a young girl named Gottfriede, fairer and better\nthan all her sisters, had loved him dearly, and that he had returned\nher love and then abandoned her. Gottfriede had sought oblivion of her\nsufferings in the river, and now was bent upon revenge.\n\n\u201cBless me, father, for I am going to die!\u201d\n\nThe bishop, before uttering the words of absolution, demanded first that\nthe Count should abjure his impious faith in such supernatural beings,\nof whom the Church knew nothing.\n\n\u201cHow can I refuse to believe what I see? There she is! Looking as pale\nas she was this morning {297}at the bow of the boat. Her hair, full of\ngreen grass, is hanging in disorder all over her shoulders; she looks at\nme with a tearful smile.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing but visions!\u201d replies the bishop. \u201cYour eyes deceive you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it is not only by the eye that I am aware of her presence, I hear\nher voice; she is calling me? Forgive me, Gottfriede!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 317]\n\n\u201cYou are out of your mind! These are the devil\u2019s snares! And who tells\nyou that the girl has ceased to live? That she has committed a crime?\nThanks be to God, Gottfriede came to me, she confessed to me penitently,\nand now she is in a convent!\u201d At this moment the assembly, already\ndeeply excited, was somewhat startled by the entrance of the steward,\nwho looked terrified, went up to the Count\u2019s mother, and whispered some\nwords into her ear. She could not repress a cry.\n\n\u201cDead!\u201d she said.\n\n\u201cYes, she is dead, and I also must die!\u201d cried Hermann in accents of\ndespair.\n\nThe young bride, offended at this avowal of a previous attachment, had\nat first stood aloof; now, consulting her own heart alone, she thought\nof contesting {298}the right of this invisible rival, and with open arms\ndrew near the Count; but he pushed her aside rudely.\n\nThe bishop began his exorcisms. While he was repeating the prescribed\nwords, the Count asked:--\n\n\u201cWhat do you want of me, Gottfriede? Forgive me and we will all pray\nfor you. You are seeping and kissing me by turns, but your kisses are\nnothing but bitterness and sorrow to me, since I have given my name to\nanother, since another is my--\u201d\n\nHe could not complete the sentence. Uttering a sharp cry he fell at full\nlength to the ground, and on his neck appeared a long, bluish mark, such\nas is seen in strangled persons.\n\nThe great Nichus is, as we have seen, the master, the despot, the\n_Wassermann_, par excellence, of all this watery, dark world, peopled\nby Nixen and Undines. His authority is, moreover, by no means limited\nto the exercise of judicial functions; his will, constantly under the\ninfluence of an ill-regulated appetite, is law for everybody; the male\nNixen are his Court, and his harem is kept full by the fairest among\nthose women who become his own by suicide. This greenish-complexioned\nSardanapalus is said to celebrate incredibly monstrous orgies with his\ndrowned Odalisques.\n\nHe is, in reality, Niord, the Scandinavian god, {299}and this Niord\nagain is, originally, one of those old Roman emperors, who were deified,\nand whose portraits Petronius has left us drawn in mud and blood.\n\n[Illustration: 319]\n\nHis principal agent, and the Jack-of-all-trades of the whole community,\nNixcobt, the messenger of the dead, has to maintain communication\nbetween the people who live on the river, and those who live in it.\nHe is perhaps the most eccentric of all the mythical personages of the\nRhine.\n\nWhen morning is about to dawn and the mountain tops are beginning to\nglow in a faint subdued light, a kind of low, thickset man of the most\nhideous appearance, may occasionally be seen gliding along the houses of\na town, keeping carefully in the shade, or slipping down the hill-side\nbetween the long rows of grapes, which are almost as high as he is. His\nterrible head turns upon his slender neck as upon a pivot, and thus he\ncan see and examine everything without stopping for a moment. His bare\nshoulders, his elbows, knees, and cheekbones are covered with scales;\nsmall pins appear {300}at intervals at his ankles; his round glamous\neyes have a bright red point in the centre; his teeth and hair are\ngreen, and his enormous mouth, split wide open and shaped like the mouth\nof a fish, wears a fixed smile, which strikes terror in the beholder.\nThis creature is Nixcobt.\n\n[Illustration: 320]\n\nWith daybreak he is back in the river to inquire if its mournful\npopulation has been added to over night by some victim, suicide or not.\nHe takes down a description of each one, draws up a report, inquires as\nto what induced them to seek refuge in the new world, and offers them\nhis services for the purpose of letting the friends and parents\nknow, {301}whom they may have left behind, ignorant of their fate and\ninconsolable at their loss.\n\nThen he amuses the great Nichus with all his stories and all the clever\ntricks he has been playing during his nocturnal visits to the people in\nthe villages and towns on the river.\n\nThese merry tricks of Master Nixcobt form even in our day an ever\nwelcome staple of amusement to the young spinners during the long winter\nnights, accompanied as they are by the cheerful hum of the swiftly\nturning wheels.\n\nOne day Nixcobt calls upon the tax collector of a little town on the\nRhine, whom he finds in great consternation. His wife has left his house\nand he does not know what has become of her. To console him Nixcobt\ntells him that she is dead, having drowned herself, and as a proof of\nit, he shows him a letter which he has with his own hands taken from the\npockets of the deceased.\n\nThe husband, whose tears had been flowing freely, dries them quickly,\nbecomes furious, and looks at his children with fierce glances. He is\njealous of their dead mother. Nixcobt laughs and goes to some one else.\n\nThat some one else, an honest vintner of the Rheingau, has the night\nbefore killed his friend in an excess of passion and then thrown the\nbody into the Rhine, together with the knife with which {302}he had\ncommitted the murder. This knife Nix-cobt now presents to him, for he\ntakes delight in restoring lost objects of this kind.\n\nWhile the murderer stands petrified at the sight of the still bloody\nknife, the Gnome hastens to the Mayor to report to him the whole matter.\n\nAn inquiry is held, the vintner is found, holding the bloody knife in\nhis hand, he is hanged and Nixcobt laughs heartily.\n\nOne night a notary of Badenheim, near Mayence, hears in his sleep a\nvoice saying:--\n\n\u201cJohn Harnisch, the great Nichus is courting your wife, who has been\nchanged into an Undine three months ago; she will not listen to him, and\n{303}he wants you to tell him how he must manage to please her.\u201d\n\nThe notary thought it was a bad dream, uttered a sigh as he thought of\nhis deceased wife, and fell asleep once more. But a chilly hand resting\nupon his breast waked him once more, and the voice said:--\n\n\u201cJohn Harnisch, speak, speak promptly and be sincere, or you shall never\nsleep again.\u201d\n\nJohn Harnisch resisted for some time longer, but a red flame dimly\nlighted up his alcove and he saw a row of green teeth and scaly cheek\nbones. Thoroughly frightened, he said what he could.\n\n\u201cThanks!\u201d cries Nixcobt, and breaks out into a far sounding laugh.\n\nWe might fill folios with all the lugubrious jokes of this messenger\nof the dead, but we will abstain. Besides, Nixcobt has lost all respect\nnow-a-days. He is no longer seen gliding along the houses in towns or\nslipping through the rows in the vineyards.\n\nWe might in like manner tell a vast number of interesting stories and\nquote endless _Lieder_ and ballads, which treat of Nixen and Undines.\nFor there are, besides, Undines of rivers and Undines of lakes, and\nthere are even some in the ocean; in Germany all watercourses, down to\nthe tiniest rills, have their Undines. {304}Only day before yesterday\nI was walking on the banks of the Rhine; only yesterday on those of\nthe Moselle, This morning, wandering about at haphazard I encountered a\nbrook, a mere rill, which attracted me by its sweet murmurs. I followed\nit, followed it for two hours. I happened to have nothing else to do.\n\nMy tiny rill, a mere infant so near its source, was turning and twisting\nin the thick grass and seemed to try and walk on all fours as little\nchildren do. Farther down it had become a little girl, having increased\nin size and bulk; it now wandered hither and thither, carelessly,\ncapriciously, leaping merrily over the rocks and carrying off here\na flower and there a flower that grew on its banks, no doubt for the\npurpose of making a bouquet. Still farther on, I witnessed its marriage\nwith a big brook that had come down all the way from the mountains; it\nwas a young woman now, a wife, and walked soberly through the plain,\nlike a prudent stream, bearing already boats on its surface and\npreparing to join an elder sister, the Moselle. Soon I had to cross\nit on a bridge; on this same bridge four Prussian soldiers were busy\nwatching the water as it flowed by, no doubt in the hope of catching\na fair Undine as she was stealthily slipping down the river. As for\nmyself, I had in vain traced the unknown little river from its birth\nall {305}along its banks, under the thick shelter of willows and alder\nbushes; neither day before yesterday on the Rhine, nor yesterday on the\nMoselle, nor today, did I ever find a trace of a Nymph, a Nix, or an\nUndine!\n\nWhat must be my conclusion?\n\nA thief who had been brought before a police court and was there\nconfronted with two persons who had seen him steal, said:--\n\n\u201cThese men claim that they have seen me, but I, I could bring twenty\nother witnesses who would swear that they have not seen me!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does that prove?\u201d asked the judge of the court.\n\n[Illustration: 325]\n\nI saw nothing. \u201cWhat does that prove?\u201d as the wise judge said to the\nthief.\n\n[Illustration: 329]\n\n\n\n\nXIII.\n\n{309}Familiar Spirits.--_Butzemann.--The Good Frau Holle.--Ko-bolds.--A\nKobold in the Cook\u2019s Employ.--Zotterais and the Little White\nLadies.--The Killecroffs, the Devil\u2019s Children.--White Angels.--Granted\nWishes, a Fable._\n\nFrance, which is skeptic to the core, has no idea of the importance of\ncertain visible or invisible spirits, who eagerly seek the society of\nman, sleeping {310}under his roof, or in certain cases becoming members\nof his family, in the strictest sense of the word. Besides, they render\nefficient services to a good housekeeper; they may do great harm if they\nare made angry, and they give at times most useful advice.\n\nThese hobgoblins, little known outside of Germany and England, frequent\nalso the French provinces watered by the Meuse, the Moselle, and the\nRhine, and are sometimes brought to Paris by cooks from Alsace and\ncoachmen from Lorraine.\n\nLet us rapidly glance, not at all, but at some of the best authenticated\namong these familiar spirits.\n\nEvening has come, the night is dark, and master and mistress are fast\nasleep. A servant with a candle in her hand and gaping to her heart\u2019s\ncontent, goes once more over the house, looking in all the corners and\nout of the way places and putting everything in order. All of a sudden a\ndoor is swiftly opened and closed again right in her face and her light\nis blown out. You will say a window has been left open and the draught\nhas done all this.\n\nBy no means! It is the _Butzemann_.\n\nSome merry companions are assembled in the large dining-room of the\nhotel and celebrate there a feast of grapes in memory of the divine\nDionysius. The night advances and there they are still, {311}glass\nin hand, singing, drinking.... Silence! all of a sudden singing and\ndrinking comes to an end; the glasses halt half way in the midst of a\ntoast; the heavy eyes open wide, the trembling knees grow strong\nonce more. Every one of the guests hastens home. Three times a hairy,\nill-shapen creature has come and knocked with its wings against the\nwindow. You will say it was a bat.\n\nBy no means! It is the _Butzemann!_\n\nThe family is gathering around the warm porcelain stove, where they can\nsafely defy cold winter. The men are smoking, a pot of beer by their\nside; the women are knitting and talking of the approaching wedding\nof the eldest daughter. Oh misery! Away back in the fireplace, a great\nnoise is heard; a bright light shines. Coals and sparks are scattered\nall around, and some have fallen upon the dress of the betrothed. What\nis the matter? You will say again, it was a knot in the wood, perhaps a\nchestnut that had been overlooked in the ashes and has burst now.\n\nBy no means! it is the _Butzemann!_\n\nThe Butzemann, a prophetic family spirit, warns you of coming danger\nand bids you prepare for an approaching misfortune. Never undertake\na journey, never get married if a clear sign has made you aware that\nButzemann has put his veto upon your journey or your marriage. The only\ndifficulty {312}you will have is to distinguish between Butzemann and a\npuff of wind, a bat, or an exploding chestnut.\n\nIt is much easier to recognize _Frau Holle_, as her presence is always\nannounced by unmistakable indications. She has assumed the task of\noverlooking the poor country girls at their work. But it has never been\nfound out why this benevolent fairy of work-people does not live in some\ngreat industrial city, or some beautiful country district, where the\nsigns of active life are abundant and the whirring of wheels or the\nstamping of machinery is heard; where the spinners sing, and the\nwasherwomen beat time at the limpid stream. She prefers, with\nunaccountable perverseness, to live in dismal swamps, beside faithless\nWill-o\u2019-the-Wisps and low Nixen!\n\nNo one has ever dared examine this question so closely as to ascertain\nthe precise truth.\n\nSome have dropped timid hints that Frau Holle, now occupying a very\nhumble position and rated among the familiar spirits only, was once upon\na time a high and mighty personage, but they have had nothing more to\nsay of her past glory, as is the case with poor ladies who have been\n\u201cunfortunate.\u201d Others, with more boldness or more knowledge, have\nrecognized in her the goddess Frigg, Odin\u2019s wife. Dear Frau Holle! what\na coming down! what poor creatures we are, after all. {313}As soon as\nthe cross was planted on the banks of the Rhine and the Danube, Frigg,\nunder the name of Hertha (Mother Earth), had taken refuge on an island\nin the ocean, where she lived invisible and alone in the heart of a\nsacred forest, which was constantly invaded by the waves of the sea.\n\nA priest, who had remained faithful to the old religion, alone knew the\nhour and the minute when the goddess would deign once more to appear to\nmen. At the given moment he drew forth, on the marshy island, a chariot\nwrapped in veils. Hertha got in, and for some days travelled through the\nworld, diffusing all around her good will and consolation. Then all wars\nwere suspended; not only the sword went back into its sheath, but all\nirons, all defensive and offensive weapons and even the iron shoes of\nthe ploughs, had to be kept carefully concealed. Hertha invited the\nworld to enjoy peace and repose.\n\nNow let us see in what respect Frau Holle or Holla reminds us of the\ngood goddess.\n\nAt certain periods of the year, especially at Christmas, Frau Holle\nleaves her marshy island in order to inspect the world. All who work in\nlinen, spinning, weaving, embroidery, or starching, are by turns visited\nby the good lady. Their idleness and their carelessness are severely\npunished. If one fine morning Annie finds her wheel {314}or Kate her\nloom covered with green slime, if Bertha notices her work torn in the\nplace which she repaired only the night before, or if the water has over\nnight turned greasy and looks discolored, the poor girls may be sure\nthat Frau Holle has been on her round of inspection.\n\nIf she is pleased, on the other hand, the ribbon around the distaff\nholds a pretty marshflower, a lily, an iris, or a gladiolus; on the lace\ncushion or on the seamstress\u2019s work a little golden needle is stuck, and\non the heap of specially well washed and well folded linen lies a cake\nof perfumed soap, which fills the whole house with its sweet odor.\n\nSometimes Frau Holle finds her way mysteriously to a garret, where a\npoor woman is lying sick with fever, the result of overwork. Then she\nfinishes herself the work that had been begun, and when she leaves she\nputs a few florins under the pillow of the sleeping sufferer.\n\nBlessings be upon you, good Dame Holle! Even if you were really once a\ngoddess of the first rank, you need not blush at your present condition.\nStill, we cannot help asking, with a slight tremor of fear, how it can\nhave come about, that the noble Frigg, the all powerful Hertha,\nshould have been reduced to play the lady patroness of washerwomen and\nseamstresses? How has this island in the ocean, with its sacred forest,\nbecome a wretched {315}marsh, fetid and ill reputed? There is but one\nanswer to such a question: Frigg has been unfortunate.\n\nBut the spinners and seamstresses, the clear-starchers and embroiderers\nare not the only ones who are honored by kind attentions from the\nsupernatural world. The brothers Grimm say:--\n\n[Illustration: 335]\n\n\u201cIn certain parts of the world, every person--man, woman, or child--has\nhis own goblin to do menial service; he carries water, cuts wood, and\nfetches beer.\u201d During all this time the master has nothing to do but to\nset still and to see the work done.\n\nThis goblin is evidently the _Genius loci_ of the ancients.\n\nAmong all these goblins, however, one is by far the most famous in\nGermany, and at the same time the oddest, of whom the most extraordinary\nstories are told. They call him _Kobold._\n\nDuring the night the Kobold sets everything to {316}rights in the\nkitchen; he cleans the glasses, the plates, the pans, and wages war\nagainst the spiders and the mice. For all these attentions he asks only\na little food, specially prepared for him, for he would never dream to\nask for a share of his master\u2019s dinner.\n\nAlthough he seems to be specially devoted to the cook\u2019s department, the\nKobold is first of all attached to the house. If the cook is dismissed,\nor if the master moves, he nevertheless remains in his old home, quite\nready to offer his services to the new comers. If the cook goes, she\nsays to her who takes her place:--\n\n\u201cDo not forget to put a little panada on the kneading trough for the\nKobold, or he might play you some ugly tricks. Be careful, for he is not\nalways in good humor.\u201d\n\nIf the Kobold, or in his place the cat, eats the panada, the new cook is\nsure to say:--\n\n\u201cChim has been here; I see we shall be good friends.\u201d\n\nBut if Chim has left the dainty untouched, or has merely tasted it, she\nis troubled.\n\n\u201cPerhaps he wants it made with the yolk of an egg? Or perhaps I had not\nput enough butter to it?\u201d\n\nAlthough the Kobold is almost always invisible, he is at all times\nready for a chat. {317}What are we to make of these strange beings, the\nservants of our servants, who are even more faithful than the latter to\nthe house which they have once made their home, who do not, as we are\ntold is the case in some countries, insist so strongly upon certain\nprivileges that it becomes uncertain whether the servants are not\nthemselves masters and those who think themselves to be masters are in\nreality servants? They generally do nothing but kindness. Nevertheless\nthey keep out of sight, thus shunning all public return for their\nbenevolent services. What are we to make of such servants? Martin Luther\nanswers in his \u201cTable Talk.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 337]\n\n\u201cFor many years,\u201d he says, \u201ca servant had a familiar spirit who sat down\nby her on the hearth, where she had made a little place for him, and\nthey talked to each other during the long winter evenings. One day she\nasked Heinzchen (Chim, Heinzchen, and Kurt Chimgen are the pet names by\nwhich German and Alsatian cooks generally call their Ko-bolds) to let\nher see him in his natural shape. At first Heinzchen refused. {318}but\nat last, as she insisted, he told her to go down into the cellar, where\nhe would show himself to her.\u201d \u201cShe took a candle,\u201d he goes on to say,\n\u201cand went into the cellar, where the Kobold appeared to her in the\nlikeness of a child of hers who had died some years before.\u201d Whether\nhe vanished then, leaving her in amazement and terror, or whether he\nresumed the shape in which she had been accustomed to see him, we are\nnot told. It is a grim story upon which we do not care to dwell, for we\nprefer to remember the Kobold as a cheerful household companion. It is\npleasant to think of those quaint little creatures, whose world is the\nkitchen, and to imagine the joy they feel in sharing the busy, bustling\nlife that goes on there daily. Be sure they know every nook and corner\nabout,--every stew-pan and ladle, and are learned in the steamy scents\nand fragrant savors which are the atmosphere of their home. At night\nwhen the fires are out, and the family is asleep, they have a life of\ntheir own. They are on the best possible terms with the cat, which they\npermit to share their food, and with which they no doubt waltz when in a\ngamesome mood. Happy Kobolds.\n\nAccording to general belief the Kobolds belong as much to the race\nof men as to the world of spirits; they retain the size and shape of\ninfants, and that knife which so often is noticed in the form {319}of\na caudal appendage, is nothing less than the instrument with which they\nhave been put to death.\n\nThere exist, however, quite a number of troublesome hobgoblins, who turn\nthe house upside down and deprive the people to whom they bear a grudge\nof all peace and sleep, till they well nigh drive them mad. But these\ncreatures ought, in my opinion, not be mixed up with the Kobolds. The\nlatter are almost invariably gentle and inoffensive; if they sometimes\nbecome angry, they act just like children; they break and smash things,\nbut they are easily pacified by the sight of some little tit-bit, as for\ninstance, a panada made with butter and eggs.\n\n[Illustration: 339]\n\nThe Zotterais and the Little White Ladies seem, in their habits at\nleast, to come nearer to Kobolds. Very useful and easily satisfied, the\nZotterais are as fond of stables as the Kobolds are of kitchens;\nthey curry the horses, nurse {320}them when they are sick, and\nkeep everything in excellent order in their racks as well as in the\nharness-room.\n\nThe Little White Ladies, on the other hand, are more delicate in their\ninstincts and often quite fastidious; they like only blood horses, Arab\nor Turkish horses, and hence the popular idea that they have originated\nin the East.\n\nThey slip into the stables of wealthy people, while the grooms are\nasleep; here they light a small candle, which they always keep about\nthem, and then proceed to business.\n\nIn the morning, when the head, coachman makes his round to see that\neverything is right, he sometimes finds a drop of wax on the smooth\ncoat of a sorrel or an Isabel colored horse, and then he says to the\ngrooms:--\n\n\u201cYou have not had much to do to-day, my friends, with your horses; I see\nthe little lady has been here.\u201d\n\nThe Zotterais are of unmistakable German origin, for they take care of\nhorses without regard to race and without the help of a wax candle. They\nhave, of course, harder work to do and are more apt to become soiled\nor to have accidents; but, nevertheless, they accomplish their purpose.\nThey are naturally easily tired, and hence they require a knot to be\nmade in the mane of a horse, where {321}they can suspend themselves and\nrest. There is not a peasant on the banks of the Rhine or the Meuse, who\nwould neglect this duty, and I have myself often seen them attend to it\ncarefully.\n\n[Illustration: 341]\n\nFormerly the Zotterais also protected sheep against ticks and kept their\nwool from getting tangled; they even derived their name from Zotte,\nwhich means a flock of wool. In those days, it must be presumed, from\nthe habits of those benevolent little people, the fleeces must have been\nwhiter and better kept than they are now-a-days; but sheep raisers had\nthe unlucky idea, produced probably by avarice, that not a particle of\nwool should be left on ram or ewe, and thus deprived their tiny friends\nof all means to rest and recover breath when hard at work. The Zotterais\nlooked upon this neglect of what was due to them as an insult, and\nabandoned the flocks of sheep for the horses in the stables. Besides,\nthey found it impossible to live on good terms with the shepherds\u2019 dogs.\n\nWe must finally mention the most important and most extraordinary of all\nfamiliar spirits, whom we must needs include among these favored beings,\n{322}as he represents nothing less than the son of the house, the child\nof the family.\n\nThis is the _Killecroff or Suppositus._ The last mentioned name is\ngiven to him because this so-called son of the house is in reality a\nchangeling, a supposed child, which has been put into the place of the\nreal child.\n\n[Illustration: 342]\n\nWho has taken the legitimate child from its cradle in order to put into\nits place a _Killecroff_, and who is the real father of the latter?\n\nBoth of these questions are met by one and the same answer. The Devil!\nWe have so far carefully avoided touching on matters of witchcraft; but\nunfortunately they are as well known on the banks of the Rhine as on\nthose of the Thames and the Seine. The _Killecroffs_, however, children\nof the Devil and begotten according to popular belief during the orgies\nof the Witches\u2019 Sabbath, have been really in existence upon earth;\n_suppositi_ or not, they have played their part in the world\u2019s history\nand occasionally even left behind them illustrious descendants. {323}In\nthe same way as the Swedish king Vilkins and Merov\u00e6us, king of the\nFranks, boasted of being the sons of a sea-god, the dynasty of the\nJagellons in Poland were proud of their original descent from the Devil,\nno doubt through Killecroffs, and actually bore in their arms certain\nemblems of hell.\n\nHow can a real Killecroff be recognized, since he has been, improperly\nenough, counted in among the Kobolds?\n\n[Illustration: 343]\n\nFrom his first appearance in the world, the Killecroff excites the\nastonishment, and sometimes the {324}admiration of his reputed parents.\nHe sucks so heartily and with such an appetite that his nurse has to be\nreinforced by two goats and a cow, like the renowned Gargantua.\n\nWhen he is weaned a new marvel appears: he swallows his soup by the\ntureen, \u201cas much as two peasants and two threshers in the barn would\ntake,\u201d says a celebrated writer in speaking of this subject.\n\nHe grows up and keeps everything in commotion around him; he provokes\nquarrels not only among the servants, but even between his parents. If\nsome untoward event occurs he roars with laughter, on a day of rejoicing\nhe sheds tears and moans piteously. He takes a stick or a spit and rides\non it in his room, from morning till evening, climbing on every\nchair and table, breaking everything that comes in his way, injuring\nhimself--also quite as readily, provoking cats, dogs, and even the\nparrot on his perch, till they all mew and bark and scream. Then he runs\nto the stable and sticks a pin into the croup of a horse to see it kick,\nand then breaks open the doors and locks by the aid of a huge stick\nof wood; next he rushes into the garden, playing the part of a tempest\nthere, destroying, uprooting, and breaking everything.\n\nIn the poultry yard he wrings the hens\u2019 necks and walks over the young\nchickens; in the kitchen {325}he loves to take up the tops of pots and\npans and to season the dishes according to his fancy with salt, pepper,\ndust, ashes, oil, vinegar, mustard, sand, or sawdust, and never leaves\nwithout having turned on the water everywhere.\n\nIf a visitor arrives, he takes possession of him and stands between his\nlegs, and walks on his toes, pulls the buttons off his waistcoat, and\ndraws the strings out of his shoes; he troubles and annoys him in every\nway, he pinches and scratches, he worries and tortures him. When his\nmother cautiously observes that he must not trouble the gentleman he\nobeys like a good child and leaves the gentleman alone, but not without\nhaving first broken his watch-chain, taken his cane, and hid his\nspectacles; the cane he drops accidentally into the well; as for the\nspectacles, he forgets where he has put them. When the poor visitor,\nquite overcome and exhausted, at last rises to go, he stumbles and falls\ndown the stairs, thanks to a string which his playful young friend, the\nKillecroff, has stretched across the top step.\n\nThe Killecroffs are generally the delight of their parents; fortunately\nthey do not live long.\n\nThe great man whom I have quoted before, told the Duke of Anhalt\nfrankly, that if he were a sovereign like the duke, he would run the\nrisk and become a murderer in such a case, by ordering {326}every such\nson of the devil to be thrown into the Moldau!\n\nThis great man, who believed so firmly in Killecroffs, who believed\nlikewise in Butzemann, in Ko-bolds, in Nixen and Undines, who saw the\nDevil in every fly that came to drink his ink or to perch on his nose,\nwas again Dr. Martin Luther.\n\n[Illustration: 346]\n\nThe great Reformer, who was so valiant in combating the superstitions of\nthe Papists, seems to have taken very little trouble to get rid of his\nown.\n\nBut among the many delusions, in which he apparently delighted, there\nwas one, a really charming {327}one, which arose from the Christian\nreligion itself, and which, it seems to me, I cannot well pass over in\nsilence when speaking of familiar spirits.\n\nI mean Guardian Angels.\n\nA most erudite and clever academician, Mr. Alfred Maury, tells us in\nhis charming book on \u201cMagic and Astrology,\u201d that according to Egyptian\ndoctrines a special star foretold the arrival of every man in this\nworld. In proof of this statement, he refers us to Horapollon, in his\n\u201cTreatise on Hieroglyphics.\u201d\n\nWe infinitely prefer taking Mr. Maury\u2019s own evidence; and he adds: \u201cThis\ncreed exists still in some remote districts among rural populations, and\nespecially in Germany.\u201d\n\nIt may be that in certain portions of Germany every man may still have\nfaith in his star; we are willing to believe it, since he says so; but\nalmost everywhere the star has been superseded by a Guardian Angel,\nthe White Angel, as they call him, a far more tempting personage, and\ninfinitely more intimate and sympathetic. The White Angel is much more\nthan the _Genius loci_; it is in fact the _Genius personalis_.\n\nWithout entering here upon a serious discussion, on the subject of\nGuardian Angels, whom the modern Church is disposed to ignore, we shall\nprefer {328}inserting here, as a complement to our chapter on Familiar\nSpirits, a legend, which we were fortunate enough to obtain directly\nfrom very truthful and very beautiful lips:--\n\n\u201cA white figure appeared before the young girl as she awoke.\n\n\u201c\u2018I am your Guardian Angel!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Then you will grant me the wishes which I shall mention?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018I shall carry them to God\u2019s throne. You may count upon my assistance.\nWhat are your wishes?\u2019 \u201c\u2018O White Angel, I am tired of continually\nturning the spindle, and my fingers are getting to be so hard by\nconstant work, that yesterday, at the dance, my partner might have\nimagined he was holding a wooden hand.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Your partner was that fine looking gentleman from Hesse? Did he not\ntell you that he adored your blue eyes and fair hair, and that he would\nmake you a baroness, if you would go home with him?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018White Angel, make me a baroness.\u2019\n\n\u201cThe evening of that day a young peasant came and asked Louisa\u2019s mother\nfor her daughter\u2019s hand. The mother said, Yes.\n\n\u201c\u2018White Angel, deliver me from this boor. I want to be a baroness!\u2019\n\n\u201cBut the mother, who was a widow, had energy {329}enough for two. The\nWhite Angel did not appear again; Louisa had to yield, and went on\nturning her spindle.\n\n\u201cOne day her husband, who was a hard-working man, had over-exerted\nhimself and was taken ill. Louisa had seen her gentleman again.\n\n\u201c\u2018White Angel, he loves me still. He has sworn he would marry me if I\nwere a widow.\u2019.... She dared not say more. Her husband recovered his\nhealth completely. The White Angel still turned a deaf ear to her\nwishes. She lost all hope of ever becoming a baroness.\n\n\u201cSome years later Louisa was the mother of two beautiful children;\nshe was fond of her husband, whose labor procured for her all that she\nneeded, and when she thought of him and her two darlings, the spindle\nfelt quite soft to her fingers.\n\n\u201cOne evening, when she was only half asleep, lying by her husband\u2019s\nside, with one of her hands in his, and the youngest of her babies at\nher bosom, the white figure appeared once more and she heard a gentle\nvoice whispering something into her ear. It was the voice of the White\nAngel.\n\n\u201cWhat did it say?\n\n\u201cIt told her a fable.\n\n\u201c\u2018A little fish was merrily swimming about in the water and looking\nseriously at a pretty blackcap which first circled around and around in\nthe air {330}and then alighted softly on a branch of a willow which grew\nclose to the bank of the river.\n\n\u201c\u2018\u201cOh,\u201d said the little fish, \u201chow happy that bird is. It can rise up\nto the heavens and go high up to the sun to warm itself in its rays. Why\ncannot I do the same?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018The blackcap was looking at the fish at the same time, and said:--\n\n\u201c\u2018\u201cOh! how happy that fish is! The element in which it lives furnishes\nit at the same time with food; it has nothing to do but to glide along.\nHow I should like to sport in the fresh, transparent water!\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018At that moment, a kite pounced upon the poor little fish, while a\nscamp of a schoolboy threw a stone at the bird; the blackcap fell into\nthe water, the fresh, transparent water, and for a moment struggled in\nit before it died, while the little fish, carried aloft, could go up\non high to the sun and warm itself in its rays. Their wishes had been\ngranted.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Louisa,\u2019 continued the gentle voice, \u2018our duty as Guardian Angels is\nfar more frequently to thwart wishes than to satisfy them.\u2019\n\n\u201cThis was the moral of the fable.\n\n\u201cLouisa pressed her husband\u2019s hand warmly, kissed her last born,\nand said: \u2018Thank you, White Angel, thank you.\u2019\u201d {331}I am certainly\ndelighted to think, that if the poor Germans have Killecroffs among\ntheir familiar spirits, they have at least also White Angels.\n\n[Illustration: 351]\n\n[Illustration: 355]\n\n\n\n\nXIV.\n\n{335}Giants and Dwarfs.--_Duel between Efthesim and Grommelund.--Court\nDwarfs and Little Dwarfs.--Ymer\u2019s Solis.--The Invisible Reapers.--Story\nof the Dwarf Kreiss and the Giant Quadragant.--How the Giants came to\nserve the Dwarfs._\n\nIf legendary tradition is only a distant vibration of the bell of\nhistory, where must we go and look for traces of the real existence of\ngiants? Must we believe the Edda or Holy writ itself? Afterwards the\ngreat fossil skeletons of mammoths, mastodons, and other antediluvian\nanimals only revived the {336}memory of gigantic men. The Apocryphal\nBooks tell us that in the days of Enoch, a number of angels, amounting\nto two hundred, had conceived a desire for the daughters of men and came\ndown to Mount Hermon in order to be near them. Some of the principal\nones are even mentioned by name; there were Urakabaramiel, Sanyaza,\nTamiel, and Akibiel. Is it a wonder, then, that credulous people should\nhave believed that devils also, who after all are but fallen angels,\nhave acted in the same way towards the descendants of Eve. The\nKillecroffs, we have seen, were the offspring of a union between\ndevils and earthborn women; in like manner giants were the offspring\nof marriages between women and angels. Women are evidently capable of\nsetting heaven, earth, and hell on fire.\n\nGermany, which was the last part of Europe to enter the great Catholic\nChurch, and was to be the first to leave it again at the time of the\nReformation, kept up the belief in giants longer than any other country.\nPerhaps this was one of the results of the right of free inquiry.\n\nThe giant Einheer lived in the days of Charlemagne and even served\nin his army. Several centuries later there were gigantic burgraves\n(Burggra-fen), living all along the banks of the Rhine. They have a well\nknown story there of a young and ingenious giant\u2019s daughter, who had\nbeen jealously {337}guarded in her father\u2019s castle, and when she got\nout into the fields for the first time in her life, brought back in her\napron a peasant with his plough and his two horses, whom she had picked\nup on the way. She showed them to her father as being all three little\nanimals of very curious shape.\n\n[Illustration: 357]\n\nAfter a while, however, the giants became smaller and smaller, until\nthere were only a few left in the highest mountains, in dark forests,\nand in the romances of chivalry. After that they disappeared altogether.\n\nThe report is, however, that a single couple, man and wife, are kept\nalive by magic art in an isolated part of the Hartz Mountains, to serve\nas a specimen of the lost race. {338}At first the giants had produced\nuniversal terror. The god Thor was blessed because he had driven them,\narmed as he was with his famous iron mace, all across the Hercynian\nforest. But as people became better acquainted with them, their fears\nsubsided. They turned out to be far from cruel, to eat human flesh only\nin cases of dire necessity, and to act generally not only kindly, but\neven like simpletons--a misfortune common to most men, who are too\nfully developed in length or in breadth. This latter weakness is well\nsupported by a popular German tale.\n\nAn old duke of Bavaria had at his court a dwarf, called Ephesim, and a\ngiant, called Grommelund. The latter laughed at the dwarf, and Ephesim\nthreatened to box his ears. Grommelund laughed only the more heartily\nand challenged Ephesim to carry out his threat. The dwarf accepted\nthe challenge, and the duke, having been a witness of the whole scene,\nordered at once that a field for single combat should be prepared.\n\nEverybody expected to do as the giant did and laugh at the pigmy; as the\npoor little fellow was hardly two feet high and would have had to climb\na long way before reaching the giant\u2019s ears. But it turned out very\ndifferently.\n\nThe dwarf began by walking all around the giant as if to take his\nmeasure. The good-natured giant, {339}standing up immovable, looks down\nupon him and laughs till his sides shake; but while he is holding his\nhands to his sides, the dwarf unties his shoestrings and then worries\nhim by kicking and pinching his calves.\n\n[Illustration: 359]\n\nGrommelund laughs more loudly than ever, thanks to the tickling, takes\na few strides, steps on his loose shoestrings, nearly stumbles, and at\nlast, with a thoughtful presence of mind, characteristic of his race, he\nstoops down to tie the strings.\n\nEphesim has foreseen this, he avails himself of the opportunity, and\nslaps the giant\u2019s cheek with his little hand, so heartily that the sound\nreaches the ears of the duke and the lords of his court, who applaud\nEphesim\u2019s skill enthusiastically.\n\nThe poor giant, humiliated and overcome, left the town, it is said, and\nsought refuge in the mountains, where he died of shame.\n\nThe people were thus beginning to have a very humble opinion of giants,\nwhen a rumor was spread that they had entered the service of the dwarfs;\n{340}not of court dwarfs, but of little dwarfs, who are so small that,\nby their size, the others appear as giants.\n\n[Illustration: 360]\n\nThese little dwarfs appear in the popular tales of Germany, under\ndifferent names, as _Wichtelman-ner, Metallarii, or Homunculi_, and\nevidently, at one time, were found in great numbers throughout all the\nmountainous parts of the North. In Bretagne they were also known as\n_Couribes, Parulpiquets or Cornicouets_, but as they are ugly and evil\ndisposed, I presume they are not of the same race with our good little\ndwarfs. These latter appear in the evening at the foot of large oak\ntrees, or in old ruins, where they come by the {341}thousand out\nof every crack and crevice and gambol and frolic, but vanish at the\nsmallest noise.\n\n[Illustration: 361]\n\n{343}As to their origin there are different opinions entertained. One\ntheory alone is worthy of belief, because it is mentioned already in the\nEdda.\n\nAccording to the Scandinavian Bible, when Odin had killed the giant\nYmer, his decaying body produced an innumerable quantity of small\nworms. By a law of natural order which had already become operative with\ninsects, each worm changed into a chrysalis, and out of each chrysalis\ncame forth a little man, resembling, with a few trifling differences,\nthe race of full sized men, whom Odin had created.\n\nLike ourselves, they also are subject to all the infirmities of age,\nto disease and death; like ourselves, they are at times capable of\nreasoning with fairness. Skillful metallurgists, they are at work in the\nmines, where we have already met them; they are not without imagination,\nand even know what piety is.\n\nWhat religion do they profess?\n\nFor a long time, we are told, the majority, having been converted to\nChristianity, were under its benign influence, in a far higher degree\nthan we, for they did not carry on war among themselves, and all\nauthors, legends, and ballads agree, that they were gentle and peaceful,\nloving each other, {344}kindly disposed towards others, laborious,\nand very obliging. Hence they were universally known as the _Peaceful\nPeople_,--das stille Volk.\n\n\u201cIn ancient times,\u201d says Wyss, \u201cmen lived in the valleys, and around\ntheir dwellings, in the cavities of the rocks, dwelt the little dwarf\npeople, keeping always on very good terms with them, and helping them\neven at times in their work in the fields. They took great delight in\ndoing good in this way; for generally they were very busy mining in the\nmountains, and digging in the ground to collect the tiny particles of\ngold and silver that could be obtained.\u201d\n\nSometimes field laborers coming out to plant or to weed, found their\nwork already done, and heard the dwarfs, hid behind the bushes, break\nout into loud laughter, when they showed their amazement.\n\nIt happened one day, early in the morning, that some peasants in passing\na cornfield, saw that the stalks were falling in long rows, as if by\ntheir own will; they were most cunningly cut off below, and now they\nwere ranging themselves, also to all appearance by their own act, in\nlong sheaves. The peasants had no doubt that the good little dwarfs\nwere there, working away stealthily, but of the tiny workmen not a trace\ncould be seen.\n\nThe dwarfs possessed, in common with all these {345}mysterious races,\nthe power of making themselves invisible. They had nothing to do, for\nthat purpose, but merely to draw a little hood over their ears, which\nformed part of their costume.\n\nOur countrymen, seeing that the wheat was not ripe enough to be cut,\nbecame exceedingly angry against these injudicious friends, and arming\nthemselves with twigs, went to work striking right and left in the hope\nof hurting one or the other by chance. They really heard some faint\ncries of distress in the furrows, and soon the first rows of wheat\nwhich had been left standing were thrown into violent disorder, thus\ntestifying to the flight of the little ones.\n\nSeveral of the dwarfs became even visible, as the twigs suddenly tore\nthe hoods from their heads. Thereupon the men became furious and tried\nto strike all the harder; but suddenly a violent storm broke forth\nand the hail came down in torrents, cutting the whole standing crop to\npieces and sparing only the rows that had been reaped.\n\nThe rude countrymen now saw clearly that the Quiet People had foreseen\nthe hailstorm and anticipated the harvest on that account. They repented\ntheir brutality, but the dwarfs, disgusted by their ingratitude, never\nagain appeared in that region of country. Similar occurrences took place\nin other countries. {346}Now let us see, by what perseverance, by what\nskill, and especially by what audacious conceptions these tiny beings,\nnot much more than a few inches high, succeeded in making themselves\nmasters of the giants.\n\n[Illustration: 366]\n\nThey were running about quite bewildered, pushing and jostling each\nother in their anxiety to regain their little mole-hill, he stood at\nfirst with his mouth {347}wide open, lost in amazement. Then, to amuse\nhimself in true lordly fashion, he crushed a few dozen with his foot.\n\nBut he was not without curiosity, and hence he tried in the next place\nto find out something about their manners. The moment was not very well\nchosen, it must be confessed. Men do not usually choose a city that has\njust been taken by storm and given up to pillage, for the purpose of\nstudying the manners and customs of its citizens. But we have seen\nbefore this, that giants are not remarkably bright.\n\nOur giant, whose name I have never been able to ascertain and whom I\nwill call for convenience sake, _Quadragant_ (\u201cQuadragant was rather\ncolossal,\u201d I once read in \u201cAmadis of Gaul;\u201d our giant was really\ncolossal, for he measured thirty feet in height), our giant, I say,\nstretched himself out at full length and fixed his eyes upon the hole\nout of which he had pulled the oak tree. He heard a low humming noise\nunderground, but he could see nothing.\n\nHe thought he would wait patiently, and in waiting he fell quietly\nasleep, turning over so as to lie on his back, his usual position when\nhe was sleeping.\n\nAfter a few hours\u2019 sound and heavy sleep, such as all giants are said to\nenjoy, he awoke. Finding {348}that the sun had in the mean time followed\nhis example and gone to sleep, he remembered that it was supper time,\nand as he thought of the delights in store for him he uttered a long and\ndeep sigh of satisfaction. But something that his long drawn breath had\nbrought up, suddenly jumped out of his mouth.\n\n[Illustration: 368]\n\nThis something was one of the dwarfs; and this dwarf, the boldest and\nmost intelligent among them all, was called Kreiss.\n\nBut in order to make it clear how Kreiss happened to be almost in the\ngiant\u2019s throat, which was {349}of course only accidentally his home for\na time, we must go back and see what had happened while Quadragant was\nasleep.\n\nWhen the little pigmies found their tree uprooted and their people\nscattered in all directions, escaping through every crack and crevice in\nthe soil, they had rushed into a long subterranean passage, excavated\nin days long gone by, by their forefathers. Here they had uttered their\nwell known cries of distress, resembling the chirp of crickets, and thus\nthey had finally reached the ruins of an old castle, inhabited by vast\nnumbers of their people, and chosen as the place of meeting of the\nGeneral Council of the dwarfs.\n\nKreiss happened to have arrived the night before, as one of a numerous\ndeputation, and he at once suggested the propriety of burying the dead\nwith all due honors, before anything else was done. After that, they\nmight go to work stopping up all the holes and openings made by the\ntearing up of the sapling, and filling the excavation which it had\nproduced, so that the rain might not come and inundate their long\ngallery, which was their only safe means of communication.\n\nThe two resolutions offered by Kreiss were carried by acclamation, and\nall, loaded with brush and with stakes, went immediately to work. There\nwere some ten thousand of them. {350}They thought the giant had left,\nbut they found him lying full length on the ground and snoring most\nfiercely. Their first impulse was to escape, but Kreiss held them back.\nHe had conceived a bold plan; he proposed to capture the giant. Were\nthey not already provided with ropes and with stakes? Was there not\nstrength in numbers? They immediately went to work, and in less than an\nhour the murderer, unable as he was to make the slightest motion, was\nbound to the soil which he had soaked with their blood.\n\n\u201cWhat do you say?.... Yes, sir, you are undoubtedly right. This looks\nvery much like the manner in which Gulliver was treated in the island\nof Lilliput. How can we help that? Besides, we must remember that there\nhave been dwarfs in Germany from time immemorial. If Jonathan Swift\nundertook to transfer them to imaginary countries, whose business is\nthat and who is liable to be charged with plagiarism, I ask you?\u201d\n\nWe will not stop to discuss this trifling matter, which is of little\nimportance. We have weightier matters than that in hand.\n\nWhen the work was done and with the excitement of the efforts the first\nenthusiasm also had somewhat passed away, the question arose what was\nto be done with their capture. They looked at each other in great\nperplexity. {351}The dwarfs are kind hearted people, who have a great\nhorror of blood. Besides, it would have been more difficult even, to\ndispose of the giant after death than to kill him. Still, if they did\nnot kill Quadragant he would, as soon as he was awake, go to work and\ncry for help lustily; then the other giants would, no doubt, hasten to\nhis assistance. The disgrace inflicted upon one of their brethren would\nin all probability render them furious, and they would proceed at once\nto uproot all the trees and to pursue the poor little people of dwarfs\ndown into the very bowels of the earth.\n\nWhile these and similar observations were passing in the crowd from one\ngroup to another, Kreiss remained silent and thoughtful, supporting his\nhead in his hand and his hand on his elbow.\n\nIn the mean time the crowd passed from simple talk to grumbling and from\ngrumbling to threats. There was nothing left but to undo what was done\nas promptly as possible, to abandon this ridiculous enterprise and\nto restore the giant to liberty in the same way in which he had\nbeen deprived of it--during his sleep. If he should awake before the\noperation was over, why, then they might try to appease his wrath by\nhanding over to him the authors of this fatal project.\n\nAh! one can see at a glance, that these dwarfs, small as they were,\nwere nevertheless men, and {352}that it is better not to venture upon\nattacking giants!\n\nThey were utterly discouraged and demoralized. Calm in spite of all this\nexcitement around him, Kreiss was still meditating, apparently quite\nunmindful of all the invectives that were hurled at him and the little\nhands that were threatening him. But when some of them actually began to\nloosen the ropes, he suddenly dropped his hands from his elbow and his\nbrow, and turning sharply upon his aggressors, he said:--\n\n\u201cI acknowledge my mistake and I am ready to atone for it. Go,--my seven\nbrothers and myself, we will alone set the giant free again. If he\nawakes, he shall have to do with us and with us only. Go!\u201d\n\nThe former conspirators were well content to accept the proposition, and\nwithout bestowing a thought upon their murdered brethren, they escaped\nas fast as they could. In the dim twilight of the last hour of the day\none might have seen them running nimbly through the tall grass and under\nthe cupolas of mushroom, arousing in their hurry the beetles and moths,\nor even mounting upon their backs in order to reach by their aid all the\nmore quickly their safe retreat in the ruins of the old castle.\n\nWhen all were gone save Kreiss and his seven {353}brothers, he said\nto them: \u201cNow that we are alone, we alone shall reap the glory of the\nenterprise! So far from regretting what I have done, I mean on the\ncontrary, to enlarge our project in a manner which shall redound to the\neternal glory of our race.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 373]\n\nThe dwarfs are not only skillful metallurgists, but they are also most\nexpert carpenters and builders.\n\nHence the good people of the Rheingau are {354}convinced that they have\nbuilt all those ruins of solid old castles, in which they are still\nliving and which they have so cunningly repaired and propped up that\nthey will last forever.\n\n[Illustration: 374]\n\nNow Quadragant was sleeping with his mouth wide open, as all large\npeople are apt to\u2019 do. Kreiss slipped boldly into this vast and spacious\ncavity, armed with a long spear which was equally sharp and pointed at\nboth ends. He took care to rest at first most cautiously only upon\nthe projections of the teeth, which formed, so to say, a double row of\nparallel battlements. By such assistance he passed from one end of the\nabyss to the other, without troubling the slumbers of the giant by the\n{355}slightest awkwardness in his movements. For a case of emergency\nKreiss held his spear firmly in his hands, ready to fasten it so between\nthe two jaws as to prevent their closing upon him.\n\n[Illustration: 375]\n\nHis brothers were in the meantime busily engaged in preparing posts,\npins, and rafters, which they handed to him as he needed them. One of\nthem even went with him to assist him.\n\nThey fixed strong piles between the two rows of teeth, and strengthened\nthe piles by beams, which secured them to each other. The work was by\nno means an easy one, for in the mouth of the giant it was as dark as\nnight, and there reigned in it a heat equal to that of an oven. Moreover\nQuadragant had dined that day on a deer and several {356}hares, and\nas he liked his game high, like every good judge of fine dinners, the\nperfumes of his breath increased the inconvenience caused by the heat\nand the darkness.\n\nKreiss\u2019s brother was all of a sudden taken ill, and had to leave to join\nthe others outside. They, however, continued work on the scaffolding,\nand watched the giant carefully.\n\nQuadragant was absolutely in the hands of the eight dwarf brothers.\n\nThey had passed up a lantern to Kreiss, which he hung upon one of\nthe transverse beams, and he now continued his work alone resolutely,\nalthough he was every now and then compelled to stop his nose.\n\nHis work was at last completed, and he was just about to leave this\ndamp, pestiferous abyss, when the giant awoke, and his first sigh\ncarried off the brave pigmy, as a gust of wind would have carried off\na dry leaf from a branch, and hurled him senseless into space. He fell\nheavily upon the chest of the colossus.\n\nAs soon as he recovered from the shock, he looked around carefully, and\nsaw, to his great satisfaction, that the bonds which held the giant\nwere beyond doubt strong enough to hold him a prisoner. Then he crept\ncautiously all along the neck as far as his ear, and by its aid climbed\nup the chin, after having crossed the cheek in its whole {357}length.\nWhen he had found a convenient restingplace, he drew himself up to his\nfull height, and raising his feeble voice as loud as he could, he said\nto the giant:--\n\n\u201cMurderer of our brethren, you are our prisoner, and you must die!\nCommend your soul to God.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: 377]\n\nThe giant tried to see the tiny being who was speaking to him so boldly,\nand cast down his eyes. At first he could distinguish nothing but a\nfeeble glimmering light at the extremity of his nose; but the nose\nitself completely concealed the speaker.\n\nKreiss then advanced a few steps from the chin towards the mouth of the\ncolossus, and the latter now perceived a kind of little man, dressed in\na cloak of mouse skin, which he grandly wrapped around him, as Hercules\ndid with the skin of the Nemean lion.\n\nIn his hand, however, he held not a club, but a lantern, in which a\nfirefly did service as candle.\n\nThanks to this phosphorescent sheen, which seemed to surround Kreiss\nas with a halo, Quadragant could examine him at leisure, and he asked\nhimself how such an embryo could have flown out of his mouth, and how\nhe, Quadragant, could have become his prisoner? {358}The contemptuous\nglance which he threw at the dwarf made Kreiss aware of what he was\ndiscussing in his mind.\n\n\u201cYou think you are not captured yet,\u201d he said. \u201cVery well, try to get up\nand walk, if you can!\u201d Quadragant did try, and found that he was firmly\nfastened to the ground by ropes and chains, by each single hair of his\nhead, by every hair on his body. He tried to speak to the pigmy, and he\ncould not, by any effort of his, move his jaws in the slightest way.\n\n\u201cAs to the manner of your death,\u201d Kreiss went on, \u201cif the wolves and the\nvultures do not hasten your end, hunger will do the work.\u201d\n\nAt this thought of dying of hunger, a mode of death which he had always\nlooked upon as the most terrible of all, Quadragant\u2019s heart gave way,\nand he began to cry piteously. Two torrents of tears flowed down his\ncheeks, and after turning around the prominence of his lips, ran over\nfrom his chin.\n\nKreiss was compelled to leave his position, so as to avoid the double\ncurrent.\n\nAlthough quite firm in his resolution, he was naturally kind-hearted.\nThese many tears of such unwonted size finally touched \u2018him, but his\nsympathy made him only the more determined to render his vengeance as\nuseful as it was complete. {359} \u201cListen to me, giant. You can buy your\nlife, if you choose.\u201d Quadragant\u2019s tears ceased to flow. Here was life\noffered to him, and with that life he saw first of all a good supper\nin store for him, and if his mouth had not been held so tight by the\nscaffolding erected in it by Kreiss, his big face would have grinned\nfrom ear to ear.\n\n[Illustration: 379]\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d continued the dwarf, \u201cyou will Tiave to devote your life and\nyour liberty, if we restore both to you, to the service of our decimated\npeople; do you hear? You must understand me clearly; you will not be our\nprotector, but our servant; you will unhesitatingly perform every kind\nof work which may be required of you for our safety or our comfort.\nFirst of all you will replant that oak tree, {360}under which the dwarfs\nof this district were living in peace, and you will water it every\nmorning until it has taken root again. Now, close your eyes, if you mean\nto accept our conditions!\u201d\n\nQuadragant opened and shut his eyes quickly ten times in succession.\n\nKreiss made with his lamp a kind of telegraphic signal; his brothers,\nall seven dressed in garments of mouse skin or mole skin, and carrying\neach one a lantern with a firefly inside, climbed in an instant upon the\nface of the giant, which now looked quite brightly illuminated.\n\nThree of them took their station on his forehead; two others by the side\nof each eye. The last two held each a long thorn in their hands, which\nthey seemed to use as a dagger.\n\nKreiss, who had remained at his place, said again to the giant:--\n\n\u201cIf, after you have been set free, you dare utter a sound to call for\nhelp, you lose both of your eyes instantly. Mind the warning!\u201d\n\nArmed with his double pointed spear, he then went once more into\nQuadragant\u2019s mouth, and loosened one of the transverse beams which\nformed the ceiling. The giant assisted him with his tongue in the work\nof demolition; then, after drawing a long sigh of relief, he closed his\nmouth and crushed between his formidable jaws all the timber, posts,\n{361}and beams, as if they had been a bundle of matches, and swallowed\nthe whole in anticipation of his supper.\n\n[Illustration: 381]\n\nAfter that he swore an oath which binds the giants as firmly as the\ninvocation of the Styx pledged the s of Greece.\n\n\u201cBy the earth, which is my mother, by the mountains, which are her\nbones, by the woods and forests, which are her hair, by the brooks, the\nstreams, and the rivers, which are the blood of her veins, I, {302}the\ngiant Quadragant, declare that I am the slave of the dwarfs.\u201d\n\nAt sunrise Quadragant was up again, carrying his new masters between\nhis fingers, which he twisted together in the shape of a cradle. In\nless than five minutes he reached, in obedience to their orders, the\nold castle in ruins, where a \u2018solemn meeting was held, not only by the\nfugitives of the day before, but also by the principal representatives\nof all the dwarfs of that part of Germany.\n\nWhen the sentinels announced the arrival of the giant, all thought their\nlast hour had come and endeavored to escape, hoping to find a refuge in\nthe lowest depths of the old building. Kreiss, however, had ordered the\ngiant to put him down in front of the cellars of the castle, and now\nentered the great Meeting Hall, assuming like all great conquerors, an\nair of extreme modesty.\n\nThen he informed them that the giant was their slave!\n\nThey at once threw themselves at his feet and expressed their desire to\nproclaim him Emperor of the Dwarfs.\n\nKreiss, however, having heard of a recent experiment of that kind,\nwas far from believing such sudden enthusiasm to be either deep or\npermanent.\n\n\n[Illustration: 383]\n\nFrom that day the giant abandoned his {363}old name of Quadragant, and\nassumed that of _Ptitskuchen,_ which at that time meant Friend of\nthe Dwarfs, but which, translated into modern German, represents our\n_omelette soufflee_.\n\n[Illustration: 385]\n\n{365}At first all went well; but at the end of three weeks Putskuchen\nlooked sad and melancholy; Putskuchen only took half a dozen meals a\nday; Putskuchen was slowly fading away; Putskuchen was in love, in love\nwith a young giantess, who taunted him with having become the servant of\nthese wretched pygmies and reproached him with his poverty. The unhappy\ncreature fell off more and more, the _omelette soufflee_ fell down flat,\nand Putskuchen was a mere lath of thirty feet in length.\n\nKreiss had always felt a certain tenderness for him, and hence, after\nhaving asked the consent of all the other chieftains, he placed in the\ngiant\u2019s hands a large heap of gold scales such as the dwarfs were in the\nhabit of collecting in the neighboring mountains.\n\nIt was enough to buy three wives, instead of one.\n\nThe fact had no sooner become known than all {366}the happy giant\nfathers of the country desired him as a son-in-law, and when they saw\nhow liberally his services had been rewarded by his new masters, they\nwere all eager to become the serfs of the dwarfs.\n\nThus, thanks to Kreiss, the giants gradually came all, one by one, and\nentered the service of the dwarfs.\n\nCertain skeptics have maintained that the whole story is symbolic.\n\nAccording to their interpretation the giant fastened to the ground and\nmuzzled by the dwarfs, is the people, the people always kept down\nand always held in subjection, in spite of its gigantic strength. The\ndwarfs, who lived under the oak, the sacred tree of all nations of\nCeltic origin, are the priests.\n\nWe say: Shame upon people, who would change a legend into an apologue\nand our friend Kreiss into a Druid!\n\nWhen the dwarfs became reconciled again to men, they compelled the\ngiants to execute for them great works of public utility, such as\nbridges and highroads, which were afterwards generally ascribed to the\nRomans.\n\nThe belief in little dwarfs continues to this day to exist in most of\nthe Northern countries. They still live in myriads in the subterranean\nregions {367}and in the rocks in Westphalia, in Sweden, and in Norway,\nand they are still hard at work amassing vast treasures.\n\n[Illustration: 387]\n\n[Illustration: 391]\n\n\n\n\nXV.\n\n{371}Wizards and the Bewitched.--_The Journey of A sa-Thor and his\nCompanions.--The Inn with the Five Passages.--Skryinner.--A Lost Glove\nfound again.--Arrival at the Great City of Utgard.--Combat between\nThor and the King\u2019s Nurse.--FREDERICH BARBAROSSA AND THE\nKYFFHAUSER.--Teutonia! Teutonia!--What became of the Ancient\nGods.--Venus and the good Knight Tannhauser.--Jupiter on Rabbit\nIsland.--A Modern God._\n\nHear! hear! New and greater marvels still! But, unfortunately, we shall\nbe under the sad necessity of returning to our giants once more, much as\nwe have already spoken of them, from giant Ymer down to Quadragant, and\nthere may be too much even of the best things in this world. But let\nthe reader take courage; this time my giants are not real giants; or at\nleast they are giants of a very peculiar species. But instead of losing\ntime with limitations and explanations, let us begin our story.\n\nIt was in the days when the Scandinavian gods were still in the full\nenjoyment of their power.\n\nOne fine day the god Thor, curious to see certain distant lands of\nwhich they had told him most marvelous stories, set out on his travels,\naccompanied by Raska, Tialff, and Loki. Leaving Sweden and Norway\nbehind, they arrived at the sea-shore and crossed over by swimming. A\nmere trifle, of course, for people of their kind. On the opposite shore\nthey found a vast plain, and as night was approaching and they began to\nfeel that rest would be acceptable, they looked out for a shelter. In\nthis vast and deserted plain they see but one single building; a huge,\nill-shapen, and abandoned house, {373}rather broad than high and of\naltogether exceptional appearance. It has neither doors nor windows,\nnor even a roof; but the night fog may possibly conceal a part of the\nedifice. The travellers enter and find a square, low vestibule, and at\nthe end of it five long passages; each of the travellers takes one of\nthese passages, looking for a door or a bed in the dark. As they find\nneither bed nor chamber, they resign themselves and lie down on the\nfloor, with their backs to the wall.\n\nBut even the walls seem to be elastic, and so does the floor; perhaps\na layer of straw or of moss was spread over them and gave them the\nsoftness of felt, rather coarse, to be sure, but not unpleasant. The\ntravellers felt that they could sleep there comfortably and warm. So\nthey did.\n\nAt daybreak Thor rubbed his eyes, stretched his arms and proposed to\ntake a turn in the country, to stretch his legs and to shake off the\nheaviness of sleep. Through the white mists which were still hanging on\nthe tops of high hills he thought he saw a huge mass of disheveled hair,\nand then he discovered in the centre of that head two eyes. At first\nhe thought this head and these eyes were simply a rock covered with\nshrubbery and two small pools of water shining in the rays of the\nrising sun. But soon the disheveled head began to move, bent down to\nthe ground, and turned now {374}to one side and now to another. In the\nmeantime the mists had risen and Thor found that he was standing before\na giant of such enormous size that those whom he was generally engaged\nin hunting down would not have reached to his knee.\n\nThe giant advanced toward him, always looking here and there, and still\nwith his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he were looking for something\nhe had lost.\n\nThor, who was easily incensed by the sight of a giant, went straight up\nto meet him and said in an arrogant tone:--\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing here? What is your name? Who are you?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy name is Skrymner,\u201d replied the other. \u201cDid you not know? As for me,\nI have no need to ask you any such question; you are the god Thor, one\nof those under sized gods who live with Odin on the ash tree Ygdrasil.\nHave you seen my glove? I have lost my glove; yes! yesterday,\u201d he\nadded in the most indifferent manner possible, and as if he were solely\noccupied with his search.\n\n\u201cI have found nothing of the kind,\u201d replied Thor, who was always in bad\nhumor, and now regretted that he did not have his hammer at hand.\n\n\u201cAnd do you travel quite alone?\u201d asked Skrymner. {375}\n\n\u201cI have three companions.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not see them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are all three still asleep in that house there, in which we have\nspent the night.\u201d\n\nAnd with his finger he pointed at the house, which they had used as an\ninn for the night.\n\nSkrymner looked both surprised and delighted. \u201cMy glove!\u201d he cried,\n\u201cthat is my glove! I have found it.\u201d He hastened to pick up this\napparent house with its five long passages, and took it up, but not\nbefore he had shaken it, holding it close to the ground, and showing\nthus that he was not without a feeling of humanity.\n\nLoki, Tialft, and Raska tumbled out upon the grass, rather terrified\nby their sudden ascension and the sudden somerset which they had been\nforced to make. But as soon as they had recovered from their first\nsurprise, and especially from the discovery that they had spent the\nnight in a glove, they thought of continuing their journey.\n\nThe country was unknown to them, but Skrymner offered to act as guide\nand even to carry their baggage. So much obliging kindness and courtesy\ndrove all aggressive thoughts out of Thor\u2019s mind, especially as he now\nhad his hammer.\n\nAt the first stopping place, and just when they were getting ready for\nbreakfast, the giant left them, although only after having pointed out\nto {376}them the road they ought to take. Thor, however, found he was\nunable to open the knapsack in which they carried their provisions; all\nthe strings and small chains by which it was fastened, were in knots.\nThey had to proceed on their journey without having had any breakfast, a\nnecessity which is most disagreeable to travellers, and even to gods.\n\nAs hour after hour passed and the plain remained deserted and sterile,\ntheir hunger became tormenting. They listened with all their might,\nhoping they might hear the roaring of a bear or the lowing of a cow,\ndetermined as they were to dine upon the one or the other; but the dull\nrumbling of a storm and the distant roll of thunder was all they heard.\n\nThor was furious at the idea that any one should venture to thunder\nwithout having obtained permission from him, the god of thunder, and\nrushed forward. Following the direction of the noise, he reached a rocky\ndefile, overshadowed by a few oak trees, where he found Skrymner lying\nat full length between two hills and snoring furiously. This snoring it\nwas which the travellers had taken for the roaring of a storm.\n\n\u201cNo doubt,\u201d said Thor to himself, \u201cthe wretch is at work digesting the\nprovisions of which he has robbed us. No doubt it was he who tied all\nthose knots in the strings of our knapsack, in order to {377}conceal his\ntheft; but he shall pay for it dear! Besides, did he not speak of me as\nan undersized god?\u201d\n\nWith these words he seized his hammer and threw it at the head of the\nsleeping giant, who did not stir, but only passed his hand over his brow\nas if a dead leaf falling from a tree had tickled him a little.\n\nThor went up closer and struck him once more on the back of his head,\ndirectly on the cerebellum, which in giants is unusually developed.\n\nThis time the sleeper opened one eye, closed it again, and after having\nscratched himself at the place where he had been struck, he fell asleep\nagain.\n\nBrutal by nature and doubly so when fasting, Thor had become perfectly\nfurious when he found himself thus mysteriously powerless. Fully\ndetermined the next time to make an end, once for all, of his adversary,\nhe put on his invisible belt, which had the gift of doubling his\nstrength, seized his hammer with both hands and threw it with such\namazing force at the giant, that it sank up to the handle into one of\nhis cheeks and Thor had no small trouble in getting it to come back to\nhim.\n\nThis time Skrymner was fully roused; he opened both of his eyes, raised\nhis hand to his cheek, and exclaimed that it was impossible to sleep\ncomfortably {378}in that place, as a fly had just stung him in the\ncheek.\n\nThen, perceiving his assailant, who stood right before him, he asked him\ngood-naturedly, how he happened to be there, and whether he had lost\nhis way. In the meantime the other travellers are also coming up and\nSkrymner offers to show them the way to the great city of Utgard, where\nhe promises they will find a good inn, a good table, a warm reception,\nand not only enough for their wants but all that their heart can desire.\n\nThor does not know what to think. Overcome and confounded, he follows\nthe footsteps of his guide, without being able to form any idea except\nthe one: to avenge himself in a signal manner for all his humiliations.\n\nThe city of Utgard is of incredible size, the city walls, the houses,\nthe trees, the furniture, all are gigantic. Our travellers could easily\npass between the legs of the little children they met in the streets,\nas we modern people pass under the triumphal arches of the ancients. You\nsee, now we are no longer in Lilliput, we have reached the island of the\ngiants with Gulliver. Gulliver might very well be the offspring of some\nScandinavian legend.\n\nThe king received Thor and, his friends, laughing heartily at their\nsmall size, and the seats they are offered are three times as high as\nthey are. {379}After a host of adventures in which our men, that is to\nsay, our gods, are continually victimized, Thor in his rage challenges\nthe giants to single combat. The king accepts the challenge and\noffers to back his nurse, a toothless old woman, against the god. Thor\nconsents, eager as he is to vent his wrath on somebody, and determines\nto pitch His Majesty\u2019s nurse out of the window. But by all his efforts\nhe hardly succeeds in lifting her slightly off the ground, and he\nhimself, exhausted by the struggle, sinks on his knees.\n\nOn the next day our travellers came to the conclusion that they had\ntravelled far enough. Skrymner again showed the way, with his usual\ncourtesy, and when they were well out of the town he took the god Thor\naside and said to him: \u201cSo far you have only known my name and nothing\nof myself, now you ought to know that I am Skrym-ner, the wizard. You\nought, therefore, not to mind anything that has happened to you during\nthese last days. You thought you were striking me three times with your\nhammer, but in reality you were striking the impenetrable rocks, on\nwhich I was apparently sleeping. As to the nurse, you have given proof\nthere of such strength as I should not even have expected from the great\nThor, when you lifted her from the ground; for the toothless old woman\nis none other but Death, yes Death, {380}whom I had compelled to\ncome and take part in our games. The rest was all enchantment, mere\ndelusions! I wanted to see if the power of the art of Magic was equal to\nthat of the gods. Farewell, Asa-Thor, and a pleasant journey to you.\u201d\n\nMore enraged than ever, Asa-Thor was about to throw himself upon him;\nbut the pretended giant had fled in the shape of a bird. Then Thor\nturned back towards the city of Utgard, determined to destroy it\nutterly, but before his eyes it dissolved into a column of smoke.\n\nWell, I promised you some of Mother Goose\u2019s stories--have I kept word?\nAnd do not imagine that this story of Thor and the giants\u2019 city is of\ndoubtful origin--you will find it in chapters 23, 24, 25, and 26 of the\nsacred book called Edda.\n\nOf magicians and wizards I could say much, but the road is long and I\nam in haste to reach the end. And who does not know the story of the\nprowess of Merlin and of the Maugis?\n\nIn all the ancient traditions of the North there are found innumerable\ntales of wizards, witchcraft, and ghosts. Now rocks are changed into\npalaces, and now brutes into men and men into brutes; and the same\nfantastic but always epic element prevails largely in all the old\nromances of chivalry as well as in the great poems of Ariosto and Tasso.\n{381}In almost all countries we find that epic poetry is closely allied\nto religious sentiments and through these to the marvelous; for it has\nalways found a first home in temples and a first use for temples. Thus\nit was in India with the Mahabarata, and in Greece with the myths of\nHercules and of Orpheus. It could not be otherwise with the Gallic or\nGerman bards, nor with the Scandinavian skalds, all of whose grand poems\nare most unfortunately unknown at present.\n\nBut a feature more peculiarly German than the wizards, are the\nbewitched, often called the Sleepers. In these Germany incorporates, as\nit were, the loftiest of her patriotic aspirations, the saddest of her\ndisappointments, the most persistent of her hopes. They represent not\nonly her old faith, that could never be completely eradicated, but\nalso her old favorites, a Hermann and a Siegfried, the hero of the\nNibelungen, a Theodoric and a Charlemagne, a Witikind and a Frederick\nBarbarossa, a William Tell and a Charles V. Her heroes, her beloved,\nher glory--she has not allowed them to fall into oblivion and be severed\nfrom the present; she will not admit that they are dead, they are but\nasleep. Witikind under the Siegberg in Westphalia, Charlemagne in the\nlowest rooms of his old castle at Nuremberg. There--and not, as might\nhave been imagined, in Aix-la-Chapelle--the mighty old {382}Emperor\nrests majestically, surrounded by his brave champions, ready to awake\nagain whenever God shall be pleased to tell him that the moment has\ncome.\n\nAs for Frederick Barbarossa, he sleeps in the Kyffhauser, one of the\nporphyry and granite mountains of the Taunus, and so do others; there is\nno denying the fact, for they have been seen!\n\nA few years after his disappearance from this world, Frederick showed\nhimself upon the summit of one of these mountains, whenever the sound of\na musical instrument was heard in the valley. Knowing his love of music,\nthe Philharmonic Societies of Erfurth and of other towns to this day,\nare fond of serenading the old warrior.\n\nIt is said that one evening, when the clock at Tilleda struck midnight,\ncertain musicians who had ascended the Kyffhauser, suddenly saw the\nmountain open and a number of women adorned with jewels and carrying\ntorches, came out of the opening. They beckoned to them, the men\nfollowed, continuing to play on their instruments and thus they came\nwhere the Emperor was. The latter ordered a good supper to be served,\nand when they were ready to leave again, the fair ladies of the court\nescorted them back, with their torches in their hands, and at the last\nmoment gave to each of them a poplar branch. The poor musicians had\n{383}hoped for better things from the Emperor\u2019s generosity, and when\nthey reached the foot of the mountain, they threw their branches into\nthe road, very indignant at having been so badly treated. Only one among\nthe number kept his branch, and when he reached home, carefully stuck it\nby the side of the consecrated bunch of box which hung over the head of\nhis bed. Immediately, O marvel! each leaf of the poplar branch changed\ninto a gold ducat. When the others heard of this, they hastened to look\nfor their branches, but they never found them again.\n\nOn another occasion a shepherd--others say a miner--met on the\nKyffh\u00e4user a monk with a white beard, who unceremoniously and just as\nif he had asked him to come and see his next door neighbor, told him\nto come with him and see the Emperor Barbarossa, who wanted to speak\nto him. At first the poor shepherd was dumb-founded; then he began to\ntremble in all his limbs. The monk, however, reassured him and led him\ninto a narrow, dark valley, and then, striking the ground three times\nwith his rod, he said: \u201cOpen! open! open!\u201d\n\nThereupon a great noise arose beneath the feet of the monk and the\nshepherd; the earth seemed to quake and then a large opening became\nvisible. They found they were in a long gallery, lighted up {384}by a\nsingle lamp and closed at the other end by folding doors of brass. The\nmonk, who no doubt was a magician, knocked three times at the door with\nhis rod, saying again: \u201cOpen! open! open!\u201d and the brass doors turned\nupon their hinges, producing the same noise which they had heard before\nunderground.\n\nThey were now in a grotto, whose ceiling and walls, blackened by the\nsmoke of an immense number of torches, seemed to be hung with black as\na sign of mourning. It might have been taken for a mortuary chapel, only\nthere was no coffin or catafalque visible. The shepherd had, in the\nmean time, begun to tremble once more, but the monk repeated his summons\nbefore a silver door, which thereupon opened in the same manner as the\nbrass door.\n\nIn a magnificent room lighted but dimly and in such a manner that it\nwas impossible to tell where the light came from, they saw the Emperor\nFrederick, seated upon a golden throne, with a golden crown on his\nhead; as they entered he gently inclined his head, contracting his bushy\neyebrows. His long red beard had grown through the table before him and\nfell down to the ground.\n\nTurning, not without visible effort, towards the shepherd, he spoke to\nhim for some time on different subjects and recommended to him to repeat\n{385}what he heard to his friends at home. His voice was feeble, but it\ngrew strong and sonorous as soon as he alluded to the glory of Germany.\nThen he said:--\n\n\u201cAre the ravens still flying over the mountains?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes!\u201d replied the shepherd.\n\n\u201cAre the dead trees still hanging over the abysses of the Kyffh\u00e2user as\nin former days?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho could uproot them, unless it be a great storm?\u201d\n\n\u201cHas no one spoken to you of the reappearance of the old woman?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, I must sleep another hundred years!\u201d\n\nHe made a sign to the shepherd that he could go, and then fell asleep,\nmurmuring the name of a woman which died on his lips.\n\nFor among these great Sleepers of Germany there is also a woman, but a\nwoman rather of symbolic than real existence. What is the difference?\nTradition gives the following account of her:--\n\nWhen Witikind was beaten by Charlemagne at Engter, a poor old woman,\nunable to follow him in his flight, uttered lamentable cries and thus\nadded to the panic among the defeated army. When the {386}soldiers\nobeyed Witikind\u2019s orders and stopped for a moment in the heat of their\nflight, they threw a mass of sand and rock upon the old woman. They did\nnot expect that she would die when thus buried alive; their commander\nhad told them: \u201cShe will come back!\u201d\n\nThis old woman, who is to come back, is Teutonia, and it was her name\nthat Frederick Barbarossa was murmuring to himself as he fell asleep\nfor another century.\n\nWhen the old woman shall have succeeded in extricating herself from\nthis mass of sand and rock which weighs her down, then and then only\nthe great day will come. The heroes who now are held captive in their\nmountains and subterranean grottoes, will shake off the torpor of their\nlong sleep; they will reappear among their people, the dead trees will\nbear new foliage to proclaim their return by a miracle, and the cry of:\nTeutonia! Teutonia! will resound in a thousand valleys, and the birds\neven will repeat the name!\n\nThey say that when this long wished for day does come, Germany will be\nfreed of all her difficulties, and will boast of having but one\ncreed, one law, and one heart; she will be glorious and free, one and\nindivisible!\n\nWe must wait for the birds to tell us so, before we believe it. {387}At\nthat time Teutonia and her emperors were alike asleep. They mention a\npeasant woman from Mayence, who on her way home became so exhausted and\nunable to bear the heat of the sun, that she had to seek shelter in an\nisolated house, standing by the wayside in the midst of a plantation of\nyoung trees. It was a dwelling of a skillful magician. She asked him for\nleave to rest there a few moments. As he was in the midst of some of\nhis most abstruse calculations, he only replied by nodding his head, and\nglanced with his eye at a bench in the most distant part of the room.\nShe went and sat down, but only on the edge, hardly knowing if she was\nallowed to do so or not; every moment she got up to ask her host if she\ndisturbed him, and if she had not better leave him, tired and exhausted\nas she was. She told him that she would much rather endure the heat and\nthe fatigue, than be a burden to him, she begged him not to mind her and\nto go on just as if she were not there, and a host of similar phrases.\n\nAnnoyed by her incessant, idle talk, the magician suddenly turned round\nand fixedly looked her full in the face. Immediately she fell asleep.\n(There was no doubt some knowledge of magnetism already in the world\nat that time, but as yet only of magic magnetism). When the good woman\nawoke, {388}she was alone; her host had left her. To her great regret\nshe was compelled to leave without being able to thank him for his\nhospitality in her usual profuse manner, and to beg him to excuse her\nfalling asleep, when he did her the honor of keeping her company.\n\nAs she left the house, she was not a little surprised to see around the\nhouse, not a copse of young trees, but a number of tall pine trees and\nnoble oaks, but she thought it possible she might have left by another\ndoor than that by which she had entered.\n\nWhen she at last reached her village, new surprises were in store for\nher. Of all the good people whom she met on her way or whom she saw\nstanding in the doors of their houses, she could not recognize a single\none; she had to look a long time before she found her own house, and\nwhen she reached it at last, it was inhabited by strange people, who in\nspite of her protestations, pushed her out and treated her as mad.\n\nThen followed a lawsuit, the result of which was to prove, that instead\nof sleeping an hour or so on that bench, as she believed, she had been\nasleep there a hundred years. Thus the young saplings had had time to\ngrow up into large trees and her house to change masters. The\nstrangers who were now living in it and who had turned her out so\n{389}unceremoniously, were nothing less than her great grandchildren.\n\nI hope, however, the matter was settled amicably.\n\nThe Germans have, with that perseverance which characterizes the nation,\npreserved all that could be preserved of their ancient gods as well as\nof their former heroes; they do not like to lose anything, only they\ndid not embalm their favorites, but used enchantment. Let us, however,\nnotice at once for the honor of the gods, that they were never condemned\nto sleep indefinitely. Not one of them is found among the great\nSleepers, such as Charlemagne, Witikind, Frederick I., William Tell, or\nthe peasant woman, from the neighborhood of Mayence. It is true, they\nwere exiled to certain remote districts, which they were not allowed to\nleave, but they could at least move about and continue their former mode\nof life there, after a fashion.\n\nIt is not so very long since certain charcoal burners protested that\nthey had seen Asa-Thor, for want of giants to combat, hurl his hammer\nagainst the tallest trees, which he broke and uprooted.\n\nThey had also seen the enchanted hunt of Diana, whose deep-mouthed dogs\nbark at night and disturb the slumbers of honest people in {390}Bohemian\nvillages. Who has not heard of the intrigues of old Venus, not with\nher former, classic lover, the god Mars, but with the good knight\nTannh\u00e4user? If we are to believe Heinrich\n\nHeine, even Jupiter has been recently discovered again in one of the\nNorwegian islands.\n\n[Illustration: 410]\n\nIt would be the height of imprudence, of course, to undertake an account\nof the discovery, after such a master. I shall, therefore, be content to\npresent a mere summary of this remarkable tradition.\n\nThere is an island in the Northern seas, which is bordered by icebergs\nand arid mountains: the valleys are dim and dark with heavy mists, the\nmountain tops are covered with snow for nine months of the year.\n\nHere, one dismal morning, some travellers landed, driven by a tempest\nmuch more than by their own free will. They were mostly savants, members\nof great academies from Stockholm and St. Petersburg, who had undertaken\na voyage of discovery to the polar regions. The arid, almost {391}bare\nsoil did not promise a pleasant resting place, but the mountain slopes\ntowards the south produced fine grass and dwarf gooseberry bushes, and\nthe immense number of holes in the ground, together with distinct traces\nof debris left at the openings, proved that the island was at all\nevents inhabited by countless numbers of rabbits. Of other animal life,\nhowever, no trace could be found.\n\nRabbits seemed to be the only inhabitants of the island, and that was\ntempting enough for poor sailors who had for some time been put on salt\nrations.\n\nOur savants prepared, therefore, a large number of traps and snares,\nwhen suddenly a fierce tempest of snow and hail broke out, and compelled\nthem instantly to seek refuge in a spacious cave which opened in that\ndirection.\n\nThey were not a little surprised to find here an old man, bald, hollow\ncheeked, and pale, whose body was emaciated and decrepit and who was\nhardly clothed in spite of the rigor of the climate. But beneath all\nthese signs of extreme old age, and great destitution, the stranger\ndisplayed an air of authority, and on his serene and lofty brow such\nsupernatural majesty, that the travellers were filled with respect and\nreverence, and well-nigh trembled at his appearance. {392}An eagle of\nthe largest variety, but so reduced that he looked the mere skeleton\nof a bird, and with faded and disheveled plumage, sat in a corner, the\npicture of misery, with his dull eyes and his drooping wings. He was the\nold man\u2019s sole companion.\n\nThe two hermits, having no other means of subsistence, lived by hunting,\nand the old man found in addition, means to carry on a modest traffic\nin the furs of the only game that the island contained; he laid up large\nsupplies of the small peltry and exchanged it for luxuries.....\n\nBut my pen refuses to go on. I cannot reconcile it to my principles as\nan author nor to my conscience as an honest student of genuine myths, to\nrepeat here a story, which is altogether apocryphal, and which belongs\nmuch less to tradition than to mystification.\n\nNow, this old man was Jupiter, and as I think it over, I come to the\nconclusion that Mr. Heine, who laughs at the most serious things, has\nskillfully concealed his irony under the cloak of an interesting story,\nfor the mere purpose of telling us that the Chief of the Gods, dread\nJupiter, has become--a dealer in rabbit skins!\n\nI cannot follow his example.\n\nWithout wandering from my subject, for I am still speaking of false\ngods, I will substitute for {393}this necessarily much curtailed\naccount, another story which I can warrant as authentic.\n\n\u201cIn Persia,\u201d we are told by Count Gobineau, in a recently published\nbook of great merit, \u201cthe _Soufys,_ that is to say the savants and\nphilosophers, reject all dogmatic religion and believe in the reunion of\nthe soul with God in trances only. When this union is complete, the soul\nis transformed and becomes itself a participant in the nature of the\nuncreated essence, and Man is God.\u201d Human folly is always a disease\nproduced by human pride.\n\nFrance, also, has produced a few gods of that kind; I do not mean to\nmention them, however, as belonging to the myths of the Rhine, which\nhave special reference to Germany only. But among the Germans, also,\nthere is a school of philosophers who without going as far as the\nPersians go, are utterly incredulous, and disregarding trances\nand immortal souls alike, have finally denied the existence of God\naltogether and made themselves gods. This shows how anxious savants as\nwell as ignorant men are, in that beautiful country, to people the earth\nwith deities of every kind!\n\nIt is the history of one of these earth-born gods which I propose to\ngive here, before I close this long chapter. Alas! he is dead now, and\nthat is a great pity; but he did live once; on that essential point\nthere is no lack of evidence. I could even, {394}like the Thuringian\npeasants when speaking of Frederick Barbarossa, say: \u201cI have seen him!\u201d\n\nIn the year 1800 there was born in D\u00fcsseldorf, in Prussia, a child in a\nJewish family recently converted to Christianity. This child might well\nhave been looked upon as of supernatural origin, so entirely different\nwas it, from its earliest days, from all that had ever been seen before.\nMartin Luther no doubt, if the child had been one of his own, would have\npronounced him to be a Killecroff.\n\nHe was not only noisy and troublesome, but he was also a pedant; he\nsnubbed professors and listened to the advice of very young children.\nWhen his parents scolded him, he only laughed at them; when a grave\nevent disturbed a neighbor\u2019s household, he laughed; when the French took\nhis native city, he laughed; in fine he was always laughing.\n\nHowever, as he grew up, he gorged himself with logic, with mathematics,\nwith Greek and Latin and Hebrew and all kinds of good things besides.\nHe became even a philosopher before he was of age, but his philosophy\nconsisted mainly in a sarcastic laugh. When they spoke to him of the\nposition he might occupy in D\u00fcsseldorf, and of the wealth he might\nacquire, his only answer was a grimace.\n\nA rabbi spread out before him heaps of gold, {395}promising to give him\nthat and more, if he would be his slave only for a few years; he refused\nto listen to him. As he was a vain man, the demon of Fame endeavored to\ntempt him, but he laughed in his face.\n\nAt last the devil, a real devil, I am sure (his name was George William\nFrederick Schlegel) whispered into his ear: \u201cWould you like to be a\ngod?\u201d\n\nThis time our young philosopher did not laugh. He became a god, and,\nfrom official jealousy, proceeded to deny the great God in Heaven until\nhe lost all human sentiments. He lived alone, friendless, childless,\nwithout a family and giving up even his mother country, finding that\neverything had to be done over again in this world, which he had not\ncreated.\n\nAfter leaving Germany he came to France, and here in France he laughed\nlouder and bitterer than ever. In France they did not believe in his\ndivinity; they did not worship him, but they loved him as if he had been\na simple mortal; in France he made friends and he became like other men\nonce more. Finally, as he was after all bad only in his wit, he became\nvoluntarily a convert as he saw the evil fruit of his teachings. He\ntook a wife to himself with the sanction of the Church, and he died\na believer. {396}This ex-god was called Heinrich Heine, that Heinrich\nHeine, who laughed so bitterly at his ex-colleague, Jupiter, and spoke of\nhim as a dealer in rabbit skins.\n\n[Illustration: 416]\n\n[Illustration: 419]\n\n\n\n\nXVI.\n\n{399}Women as Missionaries, Women as Prophets, Strong Women and Serpent\nWomen.--_Children\u2019s Myths.--Godmothers.--Fairies.--The Magic Wand and\nthe Broomstick.--The Lady of Kynast.--The World of the Dead,\u2019 the World\nof Ghosts, and the World of Shadows.--Myths of Animals._\n\nWell? Have you seen enough of the gods and demigods of Germany, of the\nNixen and goblins, the Kobolds, the giants, and the dwarfs? Have I shown\nyou enough of this vast storehouse of human folly? I must confess, it\nmakes me melancholy to speak of all this, and I feel an urgent desire to\n\u201cshut up shop.\u201d\n\nThe conscientious collector of myths, who has more material than he can\nmanage, and sees new myths continually rising before him, is not unlike\nthose learned physicians who spend their lives among crowds of insane\npeople. A fever of imitation seizes them and soon they begin to wander\nlike their patients.\n\nPerhaps I have reached that point myself without becoming aware of it.\nThe reader must judge for himself.\n\nMy mind, filled with myths, symbols, and eccentricities, is ready to ask\nfor mercy, and still I feel it, there are some things yet to be done.\nFor instance, I recollect having promised to give a completion of the\nhistory of the Druidesses, that is to say, of women, those myth-like\nbeings by eminence! That kind of instinctive sense, that delicacy of\nalmost intuitive perceptions which distinguished them from the other\nsex in its material coarseness, could not fail to give them easily the\nadvantage over men. In Celtic lands as in Scandinavia they were the\nmodels of all virtues, the oracles of the house. They were occasionally\nbeaten, {401}it is true, but they were also grandly honored, and in\nGermany especially people burnt incense before them, long before they\nsmoked tobacco in their presence.\n\n[Illustration: 421]\n\n{403}At the time when Christianity came, the women played a prominent\nand truly glorious part there; all the historians bear witness. Between\nthe fourth and the sixth century Fritigill, Queen of the Marcomanni,\nClotilda, Queen of France, and Bertha. Queen of England, had compelled\ntheir husbands to bow down before the Cross, and not by witchcraft, as\nthe pagans wickedly maintained, but simply by persuasion. Other women,\nwho belonged to noble families or to the common people at large, a\nKrimhild, a Thekla, and a Liobat, assisted the missionaries in their\ndangerous enterprise and actually helped them in cutting down the sacred\noak trees.\n\nWhat had become, during these long continued persecutions, of you, fair\nGann, noble Aurinia, majestic Velleda, and of your sisters, the other\nDruidesses?\n\nThey were wandering about in dark forests, proscribed and weeping over\ntheir departed glory; they concealed themselves in remote places where\nthe agents of the civil power but rarely appeared. Sometimes, of an\nevening, they would venture forth, approach a belated traveller on a\ncross-road, and {404}hold with him mysterious converse. Sometimes,\nalso, the inhabitants of a village, or even of a larger place, would go\nsecretly to their well chosen hiding places to consult them on the good\nor evil chances of their prospects in life, or on an epidemic that was\nattacking their cattle. Some people, and among them not unfrequently\nrecent converts, who were still strongly imbued with their former creed,\nwould ask them to name their new-born infants and thus to bring them\ngood luck. Hence they were at first known as _Godmothers_, and at a\nlater time as _Fairies_.\n\nIt was naturally supposed that like the ancient fairies of the East,\nthese women also derived their power from the stars, for why else should\nthey have been met so constantly on the mountain slopes, when the moon\nwas shining brightly, or slipping suddenly from behind a rock or a tree,\nwhere will-o\u2019-the-wisps and fireflies alone were in the habit of being\nabout?\n\nAmong these fairies many were kind and naturally benevolent; others, no\ndoubt embittered by their fate, appeared irascible and ill disposed. Woe\nto the men, or even the cattle upon whom they cast an evil eye!\n\nThis evil influence could be averted only by the assistance of another\nfairy, a good one in this case, who relieved you more or less promptly\nby means {405}of a talisman, a constellated stone, or certain words\npossessed of magic power.\n\nNow, if we add to these godmothers, to these godchildren, to good and\nbad fairies, the terrible Ogres, whose very name filled the people of\nthose days with terror, you will know all the mysterious personages\nwhich appear in the myths of children and which we have all known in our\nearly days.\n\nIf we were to examine these legends and traditions more carefully, we\nshould no doubt easily find \u201cBluebeard\u201d again among the old burggraves\nof the Rhine, as \u201cPuss in Boots\u201d has already been discovered there. \u201cThe\nSleeping Beauty\u201d might very well be the peasant woman who had slept a\ncentury under the influence of magic magnetism, and why should not our\nlittle dwarf Kreiss and his brothers have furnished the first idea\nof little Tom Thumb, with Quadragant to play the part of the ogre? In\n\u201cCinderella\u201d we might with the same readiness recognize one of the three\nUndine sisters, who forgot amid the delights of the evening assembly,\nthat their furlough was out at ten o\u2019clock? The same would apply, no\ndoubt, to many others who lived under the influence of wicked Nichus or\nevil disposed fairies.\n\nPoor Druidesses! If you had at least survived as fairies! If they had\nmet you only in the air travelling simply by the aid of your magic wand!\n{406}But in proportion as Christianity increased, your power necessarily\ndecreased.\n\n[Illustration: 426]\n\nThe day came at last, when they dared transform you into fortune\ntellers, and finally into accursed witches! Then your enchantress\u2019 wand\nbecame that atrocious broomstick upon which you travelled through\nthe air on your way to the witches\u2019 Sabbath! Oh misery! Oh\n{407}wretchedness! What a fatal overthrow of all earthly glory and\ngrandeur!\n\nWhen the women thus saw their power of ruling men by prophetic\ninspiration slip away from them, they one fine day determined to change\ntheir tactics, their ways and manners, and, I am sorry to have to say\nit, almost their sex! They assumed the noisy and truculent manners of\ntheir brothers and husbands and affected violent exercises, riding on\nhorseback, wrestling, and even fighting in battles. This was the age of\nbullying women, of _Strong Women_ in fact.\n\nWhen they were young ladies they would admit no lover who could not\nprove his affections by the most perilous adventures and impossible\nenterprises. Such was the case with the famous Lady of Kynast.\n\nShe owned a large domain and on this domain a ruined old tower which\nstood on the summit of a steep, high rock, surrounded on all sides by a\ndeep abyss.\n\nRich, young, and beautiful, eagerly sought for by a number of admirers,\nshe did not think, in her desire to keep them from becoming too\npressing, of undertaking an endless piece of embroidery like Penelope.\nShe did not embroider; in fact, she looked with contempt, and almost\nwith disgust, upon every kind of work that was done by women. {408}She\ntold her lovers that she was betrothed to Ky-nast--this was the name of\nthe old tower--and that any one who thought of winning her good will,\nwould first have to compete with her betrothed. To do this, nothing\nwas required but to climb up the rock and the tower, and after having\nreached the battlements, to make a complete round, not on foot, however,\nand assisted by the hands and knees, but on horseback, without other\nassistance than the bridle.\n\nThe flock of lovers took flight instantly; only two remained. They were\ntwo brothers, bereft of reason by the strength of their passion.\n\nAfter having cast lots, the first one attempted the task and at first\nhe was successful. But that was all. He had no sooner reached the\ncrenelated top of the old tower, unaccompanied by his less active\ncourser, than he was seized with vertigo and fell instantly into the\nabyss.\n\nThe second brother, in his turn, climbed up to the top and actually\nsucceeded in riding some length along the battlements; but soon his\nhorse, feeling the stones slipping from under its hoofs, and the whole\ntower rocking under the weight, refused to go on. To return was as\nimpossible as to proceed.{409}\n\n[Illustration: 429]\n\n{411}The knight, determined to carry through the undertaking in which he\nwas engaged, encouraged his horse with his voice and with his spurs,\nbut the poor animal remained immovable, apparently wedged in between\nthe large stones of the tower. At last, knight and horse disappeared\ntogether; the abyss swallowed up their bleeding, mangled remains.\n\nThe Lady of Kynast could not disguise her delight and her pride as\nshe received the congratulations of her noble neighbors; all the great\nladies thought of having a Kynast, or a similar trap, in which they\nmight catch\u2019 and try their lovers.\n\nNo other claimants, however, appeared to woo this fair lady, who was so\nwell protected by her betrothed. The poor damsel felt rather aggrieved\nby this neglect. She was by no means satisfied with having sacrificed\nonly two young men to her pride; she was gradually becoming soured and\nill-tempered, when at last a third lover presented himself and asked\nleave to attempt the trial.\n\nShe did not know who it was, and this surprised her; for how could he\nhave fallen in love with her? He might possibly have seen her on her\nbalcony, or at some royal feast; perhaps he was only allured by her\ngreat reputation. However, there was nothing to lose by accepting his\noffer. At best, he was only one more victim to be added to the list;\nthat was all. At that time women were ferocious.\n\nFor some days a thick, heavy fog had shrouded {412}the castle and\nthe old tower from top to bottom, so as to make the ascent utterly\nimpossible.\n\nThe simple laws of hospitality, required, therefore, that the lady\nshould offer her castle to the newly arrived knight.\n\nThe latter was handsome and of fine figure; his features beamed with\nbravery and intelligence; his white, delicate hands, exquisitely shaped,\nproved sufficiently that he was of noble descent; and his large retinue\nbespoke his high rank and large fortune. During three days he spent\nalmost all his time with the young lady, but as yet he had not dared say\na word of his love. She, however, felt herself gradually conquered by a\nfeeling which had, until now, been unknown to her heart.\n\nWhen the dense veil of mist was at length torn aside, and the Kynast\nshone forth in its full splendor, she was on the point of telling the\nknight that she would not insist on the trial in his case; but what\nwould her good friends, the noble ladies of the neighborhood, have said?\n\nWhen the moment came, the Lady of Kynast felt her heart fail her. She\nshut herself in, she wept, she cried, and although little given to\nprayers generally, she besought God to do a miracle in behalf of her\nknight. She could, however, hope very little from such a miracle, for in\nthe meantime, loud clamors had been heard below, and as {413}she surely\nthought the spectators were bewailing the death of her last lover, she\nfainted away.\n\n[Illustration: 433]\n\n{415} Cries of joy and of triumph roused her again; the knight had\nsuccessfully accomplished the task. Quite overcome, she rushes to meet\nhim, and in her intense excitement and the depth of her passion, she\nforgets that all eyes are upon her, and breathlessly cries out: \u201cMy hand\nis yours.\u201d\n\nBut he draws himself up to his full height, and, haughtily and harshly\nhe replies with a withering smile:--\n\n\u201cHave I ever asked you for your hand? I only came to avenge my two\nbrothers, whom you have killed, and I have done it, for I do not love\nyou, and you love me! Very well! Now you can die of your love, or of\nyour shame, as you like it! Farewell, I am going back to Margaret, my\ndarling, my wife!\u201d\n\nThe same evening the wretched lady had herself hoisted up to the top\nof the tower, from whence she wished, as she said, to watch the setting\nsun.\n\nBut before the sun had sunk below the horizon, she had rejoined her\nvictims at the foot of the ruined old tower.\n\nThus the Kynast obtained possession of his betrothed.\n\nThe story might furnish an admirable plot for a grand opera. But, upon\nreflection, I think it would {416}suit a circus better, for there are in\nit three first-class parts for horses.\n\nThe Lady of Kynast was a strong minded woman, rather than a really\nstrong woman; but there were others, who really distinguished themselves\nby extraordinary physical strength. It would seem that the habit of\ntaking violent exercise had finally developed their muscles and sinews\nto such a degree, that few men could be found strong enough to overcome\nthem in a wrestling match, or in armed combat.\n\nSuch was the noble Brunehilt, queen of Isenstein, in Norway.\n\n_Soothsayers, Godmothers, Fairies, Strong Women, and Serpent Women_ are\nnot the only women of this class which we ought to mention here perhaps.\nWe might also speak of the _Swan Women_, who floated on the water in\nthe dim morning mist, clothed in a cloak of eider down; and the _Forest\nWoman_, who was honored every year by the burning of a spindle full of\nhemp, to keep her from doing any harm; and the _Water Sneezers,_ to whom\nyou had to say three times \u201cGod bless you!\u201d in order to save their souls\nfrom purgatory; and the little _Moss Gatherers_, who could not escape\nfrom their enemies, the Forest Woman and the Wild Huntsman, unless a\nbenevolent charcoal burner would mark some trees with three crosses,\nbehind {417}which they could conceal themselves. But we must make haste\nto conclude.\n\nHowever, as the great _Wild Huntsman_ has accidentally been mentioned,\nwe do not think it would be fair to leave him out and pass him over in\nsilence.\n\n[Illustration: 437]\n\nHe is the Lord Hackelberg. Most imprudently he had begged God to allow\nhim to exchange his place in heaven for the right to hunt upon earth for\nall time to come. To punish him, God granted {418}his prayer, and ever\nsince he has been hunting, with horns blowing and dogs barking, without\nrespite or repose. He hunts continually, day and night, to-day as\nyesterday; he must hunt to-morrow as he does to-day, and yet he must\nhunt the same deer, which forever escapes from him, and ever will\nescape.\n\nWhich of the two is most to be pitied, the everlasting huntsman, or the\neverlasting game?\n\nHow many others could claim a right to be mentioned here as well as he?\n\nThese are the people who are _condemned to remain standing forever_, and\nthose who are _condemned to dance forever,_ another variety of bewitched\npeople.\n\nYou do not think my material is all used up? By no means! In the first\nplace, I might have told you all about mythological animals; of Thor\u2019s\n_buck-goat_, which enjoyed the same privilege as the boar of the\nWalhalla, of daily satisfying the powerful appetite of its master and\nhis guests, and yet being replaced in all its bodily fullness, provided\nonly care had been taken to put all the bones aside.\n\nI might have gone back to give a fuller account of that famous\nIormungandur, the great sea serpent, which still exists in our\ndays--who dares doubt it? The crew of an English vessel, passengers,\n{419}officers, and sailors, have unanimously testified in a legally\ndrawn up deposition that they have met it quite recently in the Northern\nseas. What more evidence do you want?\n\nAnd the _Kraken_, that most marvelous of all cetaceans, which could\neasily be mistaken for a habitable island, and on which imprudent\nnavigators once really landed, erecting their tents and saying mass,\nwithout its ever stirring, until they hoisted anchors, when the animal\nfor the first time gave signs of life?\n\nAnd the _Griffins_, those perfect symbols of avarice, who are all the\ntime busily engaged in dragging forth from underground vast heaps of\ngold and precious stones, merely in order to guard and defend them\never afterwards, at the peril of their lives, although the gold and\nthe jewels are of no use to any one? And Sleipner, Odin\u2019s _eight-legged\nhorse_, and the dog _Garm_, etc?\n\nPassing on to another variety of zoological marvels, I might have\nmentioned the _Salmon,_ whose scaly skin wicked Loki assumed as a\ndisguise in order to escape from the wrath of the gods after Balder\u2019s\ndeath. And that marvelous _Sturgeon_ in the Rhine, which the French\nlegends have put to good profit. Let us pause a moment in contemplation\nof this wonderful fish.\n\nA young, noble lady determined, in order to save {420}her honor, to\ndestroy her beauty, the grandest, most heroic, and most calamitous\nsacrifice that can possibly be made. Hence, when the moment for action\narrived, her courage failed her. But if she could not bear the idea\nof becoming ugly, she could at least mutilate herself. So she puts her\ndagger upon the ledge of a window which overlooked the Rhine, seizes a\nhatchet, and with a single blow cuts off her hand, which falls into\nthe river, and then with the bleeding stump terrifies her infamous\npersecutor. Here the sturgeon makes its appearance. This providential\nsturgeon has seen the hand drop into the river; it swallows it with\nwell-known voracity, but in the anticipation of restoring it, seven\nyears later, uninjured to the true owner, and thus to prove her\nsuperhuman virtue. And this really happened seven years after the\noccurrence in Rome, in the presence of the Pope and his assembled\nCardinals.\n\nAt first sight it does not appear quite clear, how the sturgeon could\nhave passed from the waters of the Rhine into those of the Tiber, but in\nthis kind of stories there is no use in trying to comprehend everything.\n\nThe noble lady and the sturgeon have furnished the theme for the\nfamous novel, \u201cLa Manekine,\u201d and later, in the Middle Ages, for a\ngreat dramatic mystery on the French stage. {421}Before concluding this\nchapter, I may be allowed to say a word about the _World of the Dead_,\nwhich sends in certain consecrated nights its representatives to some of\nthe churches, or to silent dinners, and about the _World of Ghosts_,\nthe annals of which have been collected, and the laws of which have been\nexplained by Jung Stilling and Kerner.\n\n[Illustration: 441]\n\nThese ghosts can imitate all the motions of men, walk, run, and even\njump, but they have no power over material objects; they cannot move\na table, a chair, or even a straw. All their united efforts would\nnot succeed in causing the light of a candle {422}to flicker. We can\ntherefore feel perfectly easy with regard to these ghosts; they cannot\ninjure our furniture, nor draw the knot of our cravat inconveniently\ntight, if they should take a fancy to make an end of us.\n\nNor can I keep altogether silence as to the _World of Shadows_, still\ndimmer and less perceptible than the World of Ghosts. I shall therefore\ncontent myself with a single instance, which we owe to a Dutch legend.\nThe master bell-ringer of the city of Haarlem, caught at a tavern by his\nwife escaped with such extraordinary rapidity that his shadow was unable\nto follow him, and remained hanging on the wall--a fact duly certified\nby the signature and seal of the reigning burgomaster, the aldermen, and\nother notables of said town.\n\nIn spite of such overwhelming evidence one might be disposed to doubt\nthe authenticity of this remarkable occurrence, which Hoffmann, I\nbelieve, has used in one of his Tales; but had not long before Hoffmann,\nand long before the master bell-ringer of Haarlem even, the god F\u00f4 left\nhis shadow in some town of Hindustan, instead of his card? We try in\nvain to find anything new under the sun; all our most famous myths and\nall our most amusing anecdotes have travelled all over India before they\nreached us.\n\nI might also tell you.... but he who tells {423}everything, says too\nmuch. Let us here pause once more, and for the last time. Farewell,\nreader, and may Heaven keep you sound in body and soul.{424}\n\n[Illustration: 443]","title":"Myths of the Rhine","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":65712}