{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_74323/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_74323","id":"gutenberg_74323","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/74323","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Legends -- Germany -- Harz Mountains"],"text":"LEGENDS AND TALES\n\n  OF THE\n\n  HARZ MOUNTAINS.\n\n\n\n  TOOFIE LAUDER,\n  (Maria Elise Turner Lauder)\n\n  AUTHOR OF \"EVERGREEN LEAVES.\"\n\n\n\n  London:\n  HODDER AND STOUGHTON,\n  27, PATERNOSTER ROW,\n  MDCCCLXXXI.\n\n\n\n\nUNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, CHILWORTM AND LONDON.\n\n\n\n\n  Dedicated\n  (BY SPECIAL PERMISSION)\n  TO HER MAJESTY\n  _MARGHERITA_,\n  QUEEN OF ITALY.\n\n\n\n\n  CONTENTS.\n\n  LEGEND OF THE ROSSTRAPPE\n  THE GOLDEN CROWN IN THE BODE KESSEL\n  THE SEVEN SPRINGS OF THALE\n  LEGENDS OF THE TEUFELSMAUER\n  THE WUNDERSTEIN\n  CHARLOTTE OF BLANKENBURG, PRINCESS OF WOLFENB\u00dcTTEL\n  THE GRAVE UNDER THE LINDENS NEAR BLANKENBURG\n  LEGENDS OF THE REGENSTEIN\n  THE LOST SKETCH-BOOK OF THE REGENSTEIN CHAPEL\n  THE FLOWER OF THE LAUENBURG\n  THE WHITE STAG\n  THE FISHERMAN OF TRESEBURG\n  LEGEND OF VOLKMARSKELLER\n  REINHILDE OF THE K\u00d6NIGSBURG\n  THE TWELVE KNIGHTS IN THE SCH\u00d6NEBURG\n  THE GEGENSTEINE\n  THE THREE CRYSTAL GOBLETS AND THREE GOLDEN BALLS OF\n      SCHLOSS FALKENSTEIN\n  TIDIAN'S H\u00d6HLE, OR CAVE\n  THE M\u00c4GDESPRUNG AND M\u00c4GDETRAPPE\n  SAGE OF SCHLOSS QUESTENBERG\n  BARBAROSSA AND THE KYFFH\u00c4USER\n  THE BURGFR\u00c4ULEIN OF OSTERODE\n  THE KEY-FAIRY OF THE G\u00dcNTERSBURG\n  LEGEND OF THE DEVIL'S MILL\n  THE ORIGIN OF THE RAMMELSBERG MINE, NEAR GOSLAR\n  LEGEND OF THE HOPPELBERG\n  THE WHITE LADY\n  THE CHAPEL OF ROSES\n  PRINCESS ILSE\n  PRINCESS ILSE AND THE DELUGE\n  THE ILSENSTEIN\n  A DREAM UNDER PRINCESS ILSE'S FIRS\n  THE RED-HAIRED TRUDE\n  THE WILD HUNTSMAN\n  THE ORIGIN OF THE PHILIPPINE\n  GRAF ARNO'S CAPTURE\n  THE PEBBLE\n  THE MONK AND THE SPRING\n  HILDEGARD AND THE HAINERBURG\n  THE THREE STONE PARTRIDGES\n  THE FORESTER AND THE ENCHANTED CASTLE\n  THE STEINKIRCHE AND THE HERMIT\n  THE NYMPH RUMA AND THE WEINGARTEN H\u00d6HLE\n  LEGEND OF THE SCHILDBERG\n  LEGEND OF SILBERHOHL\n  LAUTENTHAL\n  EVA VON TROTTA\n  THE WEINGARTEN H\u00d6HLE AND THE THREE MEN\n  THE BELL-FOUNDER OF STOLBERG\n  THE COLT'S CAVE\n  LEGEND OF ST. CHRISTOPHER\n  THE MAIDEN'S CAVE IN THE SPATENBERG\n  THE THREE BROTHERS OF ZELLERFELD\n  THE RAVEN OF CLAUSTHAL\n  THE BERGM\u00d6NCH AND WILDER MANN\n  THE NIMROD OF THE REHBERGERKLIPPE\n  THE TANZTEICH BEI ZORGE\n  THE DWARFS OF THE SACHSENTEIN\n  THE BURGGEIST OF THE HAARBURG\n  THE THREE WOOD-FAIRIES\n  THE SHEPHERDS' TOWERS\n  THE TREASURE-HUNTERS OF THE SIEBERTHAL\n  THE ENCHANTED MAIDEN OF THE ZORGE\n  THE ACCURSED MAIDEN OF LICHTENSTEIN\n  THE GREAT HALL IN THE PETERSBERG\n  SPAR-DIE-M\u00dcH\n  THE DWARF-KING HIBICH\n  THE KING OF TIPPLERS\n  THE NEEDLE'S EYE\n  LEGEND OF ST. HUBERTUS\n  BATHILDE VON BALLENSTEDT\n\n\n\n\nLEGENDS AND TALES.\n\n\n\nLegend of the Rosstrappe.[1]\n\n[1] _Ross_, a steed; _Trappe_, a footprint.\n\nAges ago there ruled a king in Bohemia whose castle stood on a lofty\nmountain, where the thunder and the eagle found a home.\n\nThis king had a daughter, the golden-haired Brunhilda, the fame of\nwhose marvellous beauty was spread far and wide.\n\nMighty rulers and the sons of kings sought the hand of the lovely\nroyal maiden, and among the numerous wooers came the son of the king\nof the Harz, who won her heart; and after the lovers had sworn\neverlasting fidelity, the Harz Prince returned to his father to\nannounce his betrothal and make arrangements for the nuptials.\n\nAfter his departure, there arrived a new suitor for Brunhilda's hand,\nwhom her father feared to reject.  This was one of those terrible\ngiants who inhabited North Europe.  They were invincible, and\nwherever they appeared, all yielded with terror to their might.\n\nThis dreadful lover brought the Princess costly gifts of gold, amber,\nand precious stones.  The father, after three days' _Bedenkzeit_,\npromises the Giant his daughter.  Brunhilda throws herself horrified\non her knees before her father, weeping and tearing her hair; but the\nking, though moved with pity, assures her the Giant has power to\ndestroy him and his kingdom.\n\nFrom this hour Brunhilda appeared composed.  She neither wept nor\ncomplained, but met her destined bridegroom with a solemn dignity.\nOf a truly kingly character, she constrained her agony to silence,\nbut hoped ever for deliverance through the return of her Harz lover;\nstill he came not.\n\nNow the Giant had two steeds--giant steeds--one white as the snows of\nthe Northland, his eyes shining like stars; the other, the Giant's\nbody-horse, black as the night, with eyes like the lightning, at\nwhose running his hoofs resounded like thunder, and the earth\ntrembled and shook.  Both these steeds seemed in the chase to\novertake the storm, and keep time with the lightning.\n\nBrunhilda saw these giant steeds, and the thought of flight occurred\nto her.\n\nWas success possible?  She had never mounted the snowy steed.\n\nGreat was the Giant's joy when Brunhilda begged to ride with him.\nShe mounted daily the terrible animal, and soon could ride a race\nwith the Giant on the mountains.\n\nAt last the evening before the nuptials arrived, and Brunhilda,\nhaving arrayed herself in white robes, a golden crown, and a long\nwhite veil floating behind her, and the amber and diamonds, the\nGiant's gifts, welcomed the numerous guests who thronged the royal\npalace, and looked lovingly upon the Giant Br\u00e4utigam,[2] who was\noverwhelmed with an unheard of bliss at the lovely vision.\n\n\n[2] _Br\u00e4utigam_, bridegroom.  Used only during the engagement.\n\n\nAt length the Princess rose and retired, the Giant remained to drink\nof the costly wines.  Suddenly he heard the snorting and stamping of\nhis war-steeds!  He sprang up and looked down into the courtyard.\n\nThere sat Brunhilda in her glittering robes, the golden crown still\nupon her head, her white veil and golden hair fluttering in the wind,\nin her fearless courage and queenly beauty, upon the snowy steed\nbefore the open gates.\n\nAt sight of him she let loose her reins, and the mighty steed shot\nforth, swift as the storm-wind, like a streak of light, into the\ndarkness of the night.\n\nThe Giant uttered a cry of fury that shook the castle to its\nfoundations, seized his battle-axe, and mounted his war-horse,\ncrying: \"If she flee to the Nidh\u00f6ggar[3] in the Schlangengrund[4] I\nwill bring her hence!\"\n\n\n[3] _Nidh\u00f6ggar_, the dragon in the old German water-hell.\n\n[4] _Schlangengrund_, valley of serpents.\n\n\nAnd now begins the fearful race.  Through meadow and forest, over\nmountain and ravine, flee the pursuer and pursued, the white steed\nalways in advance, fleeing swift as a meteor through the heavens;\nbehind, the black steed, like a spirit from the eternal darkness.\n\nAll through the night lasted the terrible ride.  The earth groaned\nand thundered, the forests trembled, the birds and beasts fled in\nterror, long streaks of fire swept through the grim darkness, and the\nsnorting of the steeds was like the roar of the Northwind.\n\nAt length dawn reflects her rosy blush over mountain and wood.\nBrunhilda utters a cry of joy and triumph!  There before her lies the\nHarz, her lover's mountain home and future kingdom!  That distant\npeak is the Brocken!\n\nShe spurs on her noble steed till she reaches the Hexentanzplatz,[5]\nwhen suddenly he Stops, rears, and plunges, and refuses to advance.\nBefore her yawns the terrible rocky abyss of the Bode Valley, behind\nshe hears the deadly foe advancing, uttering the most dreadful curses!\n\n\n[5] Hexentanzplatz, witches' dancing-floor.\n\n\nWhat shall she do?  Forward over the wild abyss?  Backward is to fall\ninto the arms of the enemy.\n\nThe choice is not difficult.  She turns his head to the fearful\nchasm, and spurs him on.\n\nLike an eagle, the noble animal leaps the yawning abyss, lands safely\non the other side, and impressing its giant hoof-print in the\ngranite, sinks exhausted, but the Princess loses her _goldene Krone_\nin the gulf beneath the Bode Kessel!\n\nThe Giant in rage and fury spurs on his dusky steed to leap after\nher, but falls and is broken on the rocks, and ever since,\ntransformed into a hell-hound, he guards the golden crown in the Bode\nKessel.\n\nThe Princess, saved, dances for joy, and her footprints are still to\nbe seen in the solid granite.\n\nThe mountain has ever since been called the Rosstrappe, and the Giant\nBodo[6] gave his name to the valley and river.\n\n\n[6] Bodo--the final _o_ has been corrupted into _e_, Bode.\n\n\n\n\nThe Golden Crown in the Bode Kessel.\n\n  \"_Seht ihr die alte Lauenberg\n  Hoch auf dem Harze schimmern?\n  Durch Wildniss geht der Weg hindurch\n  Zu ihren w\u00fcsten Tr\u00fcmmern_.\"\n\nThe legend of the Gold-Krone in the Bode Kessel is connected with a\nCountess of the Lauenburg.\n\nIn the days of the Crusades there dwelt here a fair maiden, the\ndaughter of the Earl von Lauenburg, whose lover, Conrad von\nRegenstein, was a Crusader.\n\nInstead of his speedy return, came tidings of his fall in the bloody\ncombat.  The broken-hearted _Braut_ refused all other lovers, and to\nsecure peace and freedom declared she would bestow her hand only on\nthe knight who could rescue Brunhilda's crown from the fearful gulf,\nthe Bode Kessel.\n\nThe news spread through all the plains of Germany, from the North Sea\nto the Alps, and knights and princes flocked to the banks of the\nBodethal to learn the extent of the danger in such an attempt, but no\nman was even able to approach the brink of the fearful chasm.[1]\n\n\n[1] It must be remembered that the Bodethal was unapproachable, no\npath whatever existing, until von B\u00fclow caused the path to be\nconstructed in 1818, past the Rosstrappe to the Devil's Bridge\noverlooking the Bode Kessel.\n\n\nThe object of the maiden seemed gained, but, alas! she knew not what\nanguish destiny had assigned her.\n\nYears had fled, and the Graf von Lauenburg held a f\u00eate in his castle.\n\nSuddenly the notes of the warder's horn resound proclaiming the\narrival of a guest.\n\nThe young Countess looks out of a Gothic window into the court, turns\npale and trembles, as her straining eyes gaze upon the entering\nknight.\n\nYes!  She is not deceived; that is the figure, the noble bearing of\nher lost Crusader!\n\n\"Conrad! my Conrad!\" she cries, and rushes, frantic with joy, into\nthe arms of her returned lover.  \"Thou dost yet live!  Thou liest not\nin the cold arms of death!\"\n\n\"I live, am in thy arms!\"\n\nNo word more--a long embrace.\n\nThe aged Earl has followed his daughter, and amid their astonishment\nand joy, Conrad explains how he was severely wounded and taken\nprisoner, and had not for long years been able to escape.\n\nThe father leads the happy pair into the great hall, and announces to\nthe assembled guests the betrothal of his daughter, and an early\nwedding-day.\n\nMany crowd forward to offer their congratulations, but, in the\nbackground of the hall one sees a group of knights with frowning\nbrows.\n\nAt last one of the group approaches the Earl in the centre of the\nhall, and cries: \"You are in haste to announce the betrothal and\nwedding-day.  Has the Regensteiner then brought up the Gold-Krone? or\nare you playing with so many nobles?  You are surrounded by many who\nwill demand that the bridegroom fulfil the conditions you yourself\nhave named, or they will accuse you of treachery, and renounce your\nallegiance.\"\n\nApplause followed this stern address.  The Earl, surprised, glanced\naround the circle and met grim looks and frowning faces.\n\nBut Conrad raised high his proud form, struck his sword upon the\nfloor, so that the hall rang with the clans;, and cried in a voice of\nthunder: \"Who dares speak of treachery to Graf Lauenburg?  Those\nconditions were not made in jest or scorn; his knightly word is\nirreproachable.  I will undergo the test, and will not lead my\nbeloved home until I have redeemed it.\"\n\nSilence and astonishment filled the hall.  But the maiden, pale with\nterror, exclaimed: \"What! thou will'st face the Terrible? plunge\nthyself into certain destruction, and me into fresh despair?\"\n\nConrad assures her the danger is not so great as it appears; that he\nis protected by an amulet, a cross made from the true cross of the\nSaviour, that has defended him from ocean perils, and rescued him\nfrom the swords and dungeons of the Saracens, and immediately\nprepares for the perilous rescue.\n\nThe day arrived, the Bode was bridged with ice, hundreds of anxious\nspectators lined the rocks above, the black flag floated from the\nLauenburg and the Regenstein.\n\nExtreme unction had been administered in Kloster Wenthusen, and armed\nwith a dagger for the combat with the transformed Giant Bodo, and an\niron chain to bind him, with a look toward heaven, Conrad plunged\ninto the yawning gulf.\n\nThe waves closed over him and drew him down into their shimmering\nbosom.\n\nA long and anxious stillness--then a horrible howl burst forth from\nthe gulf, drowning the roar and hiss of the waterfall, growing every\nminute louder and more terrible, as if a thousand wolves were engaged\nin a death-grapple; and the waters rose in mighty billows, as if a\nstorm-wind raged beneath.\n\nThen a ray of sunshine bursts forth, making the colossal rocks\nglitter like silver towers, and the waterfall like dropping diamonds,\nand through the pearly foam appeared a hand holding the Golden Crown;\nthe howlings became weaker, and the whisper went round, \"He has\nconquered!\"  And a loud voice rose above the raging waves, \"The\nHell-dog lies in chains!  The Crown and the Beloved are mine!\"\n\nHark!  What is that?\n\nThe terrible howlings begin afresh, the hand trembles and vanishes\nwith the Gold-Krone, soon all grows fearfully still, drops of blood\nrise to the surface, then a whole stream--the brave Crusader never\nreturns.\n\nThey found the amulet thrown up from the unfathomable deeps, and\ncarried it to the unhappy maiden, who without a tear turned her steps\nto the holy retreat of Kloster Wenthusen, and was never seen again.\n\n\n\n\nThe Seven Springs of Thale.\n\nBetween the red-roofed Thale and Dorf Neinstedt, one sees several\nlow, round hills, here and there overgrown with thorns and thickets,\nsometimes bare of all vegetation save short grass.\n\nThese mounds are graves of primeval days, in which urns and bones\nhave been found.\n\nAt the foot of these hills, in a semicircle, are seven small springs,\nwhich unite themselves in one tiny brooklet, over which the train\npasses.\n\nOn the summit of one of these hills once stood seven trees called the\nSeven Brothers, of which now no trace remains.\n\nSeven royal brothers came from England to woo the seven daughters of\nthe king of the Harz mountains, the fame of whose beauty had\npenetrated even to the English court.  These princesses were called\nthe Sunbeams of the mountains; and when the English princes arrived\nin the Felsenburg of their royal father, they found assembled there\nprinces and nobles from Saxony and Thuringia, Franconia and Bohemia,\nfrom the banks of the Danube and the amber coasts of the sea.\n\nBut the Sunbeams loved the English princes, and promised to go with\nthem to their father's court.\n\nThen the German wooers were enraged, and said, \"Not without combat\nwill we permit these strangers to rob us of the glory of our land.\"\n\nThe brothers seized sword and shield, but the princesses rushed into\ntheir arms and hindered the combat.  At midnight, when the full moon\nshone, each brother, with his affianced bride behind him on his fleet\nsteed, fled toward the rocky shores of England.\n\nSuddenly the affrighted maidens see the glitter of arms in the faint\nmoonlight.\n\n\"What is that that glitters below on the plain?\" they cry.\n\n\"Fear not,\" said the youths, \"'tis the waves of the Bode.\"\n\n\"What is that whistling in the forest?\"\n\n\"The thrushes sing in the shadows of the foliage.\"\n\n\"Do you hear the rustling in the thicket?\"\n\n\"'Tis but the frightened deer.\"\n\n\"What is that murmur?\"\n\n\"The spring gushing out of the rocks.\"\n\n\"And that whispering?\"\n\n\"The wind!\"\n\n\"You deceive us.  Your eyes burn like the lightning, you have seized\nboth sword and shield!\"\n\n\"Fear not!  We are with you; our arm will defend you!\"\n\nOut of the thicket rush the concealed rivals; a furious combat\nfollows; the English princes are all slain, their bodies burnt and\nthe ashes buried.\n\nThe princesses returned to their father's castle, but hated the\nmurderers of their English lovers.  Every day they went with the dawn\nto the spot where the brothers lay in their deep slumber, and night\nfound them still there in tears.\n\nEach princess planted a tree by her lover's grave, and when seven\nmoons were passed away, one evening, as they sat by the graves,\nsuddenly they felt a great joy spring up within them; they wiped away\ntheir tears, but from them seven springs bubbled up sparkling and\nclear.  Smiling, they gave each other the hand, feeling the hour of\nreunion was come, and in the morning they were found dead, hand in\nhand.\n\n\n\n\nLegends of the Teufelsmauer.\n\nOn the plain, stretching away westward from the once imperial\nQuedlinburg, is the Devil's Wall, which rises in ragged rocks in the\nmost fantastic shapes and forms, sometimes a hundred feet in height,\nmostly bare, but nearer to Blankenburg adorned with foliage.\n\nThis is the backbone of a mountain chain once extending from\nBlankenburg to Ballenstedt, which has been mostly washed away by the\ntempests of untold ages.\n\nThese rocks are a firm sandstone with a vein of iron, containing\nimpressions of fossils, shells, and plants, and are sometimes in such\nforms as to resemble the ruins of castles or human figures.\n\nThese rent and torn rocks could not fail to possess their legends.\n\nIn the time of Charlemagne there lived in Blanka a maiden called\nThusnelda.  The report of her charms attracted the attention of the\nbrave Egbert, who had built on the Klus near Halberstadt a strong\ncastle.  He won her affections, of course.\n\nJust at this period the doctrines of the Christian faith had\npenetrated into the Harz; Egbert had become a convert, and had won\nThusnelda also for the new faith.\n\nBut the lovers were betrayed to Thusnelda's father, the wild and\nsavage Luitprand, and he, in fury, having promised her to a companion\nin arms, shut her up in a gloomy room, deaf to all her entreaties,\nand laid in wait for Egbert; but Egbert assembled all the Christians\nof the neighbourhood, and set off in the night to storm Luitprand's\ncastle.\n\nSuddenly a wall of rock rose before them, and they were obliged to\nwait till morning, when lo! as far as they could see, only this\nformidable barrier that blocked up their way.\n\nEgbert encouraged his braves to climb it; but when half way up, the\ngiant rocks fell upon them and crushed every daring knight to atoms.\n\nThis wall the devil had built to prevent the spread of the new faith.\n\nThe other legend says the devil wished to divide with Christ the\nempire of the world, and therefore began this wall as the border\nbetween the two kingdoms; but the work was not finished at the time\nagreed upon by the contracting parties, and the contract was broken.\nThe devil, in wrath at having laboured so much for nought, broke in\npieces his partly built defence.\n\nThere is a tradition that the holy Vehm,[1] or Fehm, formerly held\nher court also in the Teufelsmauer, not far from the majestic\nReinstein.\n\n\n[1] _Vehm_, or _Fehm_, old German for punishment.\n\n\nThis celebrated tribunal had its origin in Westphalia, the land of\nthe Red Earth, and was one of the most remarkable institutions of the\nmiddle ages.\n\nThe Fehm is said to have been instituted by Charlemagne to prevent\nSaxony, which had been forced by his arms to embrace Christianity,\nfrom returning to Paganism.  Others claim for it a much greater\nantiquity.[2]\n\n\n[2] See \"History of the Fehm Tribunal; or, Secret History of\nWestphalia.\"  By Fr. P. Usener.  Frankfort, 1832.\n\n\n\n\nThe Wunderstein.\n\nThe vast plain north of the Harz mountains has been the scene of\ncountless knightly feuds and battles.\n\nIn 1115 the battle of Welfsholz--not far from the village of\nWarnstedt, nestling in the shadow of the Devil's Wall--was fought\nbetween the Kaiser and the allied princes of Saxony, in which the\nimperial forces were routed.  There is a legend that the battle was\nlost through the Count von Mannsfeld, who seeing his men flee,\nexclaimed, placing his hand on a rock at his side, \"This rock shall\nturn into wax before I move from the spot!\" when immediately the soft\nwax yielded to the pressure, and took the print of his hand, and he\nfled in terror and fell under the Saxon swords.\n\nThere is another version of the story.\n\nBefore the battle, the Earl von Mannsfeld called his men in a circle\naround him, and addressed them thus: \"My friends! fear not because\nthe enemy outnumbers us; let the rebels come, we will be their\ndeath-angel, for, listen all of you, and doubt not of victory, for so\nsure as my hand presses itself into this rock as if it were dough, so\nsure will the victory rest with our flag as long as I fight with you.\"\n\nAnd before a thousand eager eyes he thrust his hand into the stone,\nleaving a deep rut.\n\nEnthusiasm inspired the souls of the soldiers at the sight, and\nshouts of joy went through the ranks.\n\nIt is a fact that the brave Mannsfeld, impatient of victory, rushed\non before his men and fell.\n\nIn the old Kloster of Wenthusen in Dorf Thale--pronounced Tal\u00e9--is\nstill preserved a mysterious Wonderstone, which is said to protect\nthe estate and family from misfortune.  By some mishap this stone was\nonce carried off, and disaster followed disaster till it was brought\nback.\n\n\n\n\nCharlotte of Blankenburg, Princess of Wolfenb\u00fcttel.\n\nOn the north side of the Harz mountains lies the town of Blankenburg,\nthe origin of which is long prior to the time of Charlemagne,\nprobably during that of the Sassens.  It existed during the stone and\nbronze age, as has been proved by the discovery of warlike implements\nwhich have been dug up in the neighbourhood.\n\nOn a low mountain above the town stands Blankenburg[1] Schloss, white\nand shining in the summer's sun, and looks out on the vast plain, the\nDevil's Wall, and the mountains.  Its long suites of bright and\nhomelike apartments are adorned with many costly works of art, the\nmost precious of which being the wondrously carved ivory crucifix in\nthe chapel, by Michael Angelo.  With all this we have at present\nnothing to do, but rather with the singular destiny of a lady who was\nborn here, whose portrait hangs in the drawing and billiard room.\n\n\n[1] _Blankenburg_, the shining castle.\n\n\nDuke Ludwig Rudolph, second son of Duke Anton Ulrich of Brunswick,\nwas presented by his father with the Earldom of Blankenburg.  He\nlived with his wife, Princess Christine Louise von Oettingen, thirty\nyears in Schloss Blankenburg.\n\nThey were the parents of three princesses, noted as well for goodness\nof heart as for grace and beauty.  The eldest was Elizabeth\nChristine, born in 1691.  The second, Charlotte Christiane Sophie,\nwas a year younger.  The youngest, Antoinette Amalie, was born in\n1696.\n\nThe eldest, Elizabeth, was chosen at the age of thirteen, by Kaiser\nLeopold, as consort of his son Carl III., king of Spain, later Carl\nVI. of Germany.  She was the mother of the great Maria Theresa.  The\nyoung princess went over to the Romish faith, and met her royal\nbridegroom in Barcelona, where they were married.  In consequence of\nthis alliance with the Imperial family, the Earldom was raised to a\nPrincipality by Joseph I.  It now belongs to the Duchy of Brunswick.\n\nThe second, Princess Charlotte, was chosen by the Czar, Peter the\nGreat, who spent some time here, as consort for his son and\nthrone-heir, Alexis.\n\nThe third, Antoinette, the loveliest of the three sisters, married\nDuke Ferdinand Albert of Brunswick-Bevern.  She is the ancestress of\nthe now reigning family of Brunswick.\n\nIt is the history of the second sister, Princess Charlotte, with\nwhich we have to do.  Her marriage with the Czarewitch Alexis took\nplace in 1711, in the great hall in Torgau.\n\nThe savage, vulgar Prince had made his character still more degraded\nby a dissipated life.  An unconquerable aversion to the amiable and\nrefined Princess led him to the horrible decision of poisoning her.\nHe made three attempts, all of which failed.\n\nThe inhuman treatment of this monster increased daily, and no\ncourtier dared to defend the unhappy Princess against his brutality.\nHe so far forgot his manhood as frequently to strike, and even kick\nher.\n\nAt length, one day, the Czar and Catherine being on a distant\njourney, Alexis rushed into Charlotte's presence, made the most\nbrutal demands, struck her with his fists, kicked her repeatedly, and\nleft her lying insensible.\n\nDirectly after this revolting scene the raging monster set off on a\njourney, without troubling himself to learn the result of his\nbarbarous and fiendish cruelty.  A premature birth was the result.\n\nBut now the friends of the Princess united for her rescue; the\nopportunity was too favourable to let slip.\n\nA courier was despatched to the Czar, and also to Alexis, with the\nnews of Charlotte's sudden death.  In his terror of the Czar, Alexis\nordered an immediate interment.  The funeral followed as had been\ncommanded, but the coffin contained only a wooden doll.\n\nWhile all the courts of Europe put on mourning, and the father wept\nfor his untimely loss, and caused a commemorative coin to be struck,\nCharlotte, with the aid of confidential friends, especially the\nfamous Aurora von K\u00f6nigsmark, escaped, weak and ill, from her palace.\nWith gold and jewels, and as much money as could be commanded in the\nhurry, the Princess left St. Petersburg with a single _femme de\nChambre_ and a faithful man-servant, reached Paris unrecognized,\nsailed for America, and lived many years in Louisiana.\n\nHere she made the acquaintance of the Chevalier d'Aubert--or\nd'Auban--who had been in St. Petersburg.  One day, when alone with\nCharlotte, he fell on his knees and confessed his recognition of her.\n\nThe Princess took from him the most solemn promise of the strictest\nsecrecy.\n\nNot long after the papers brought the news of the tragical end of\nAlexis, the probability of his having been beheaded.\n\nCharlotte, however, resolved to remain as dead.  The death of her\ndevoted man-servant, who had been of such service, caused her many\ntears, and d'Aubert devoted himself to her, became her chief prop and\nstay, and at length the royal widow rewarded him with her hand.\n\nD'Aubert finally fell ill, and they returned to his native France,\nwhere his recovery was her reward.\n\nThey were in the habit of walking in the gardens of the Tuileries.\nOne day, sitting there conversing in German, chance led the\ncelebrated Marshal Moritz von Saxony past them.  Surprised to hear\nhis mother tongue so purely spoken by Americans, as he imagined, he\napproached them, addressed the lady, started, and instantly\nrecognized the Princess Charlotte of Blankenburg, whom he had long\nyears reckoned among the dead.\n\nMadame d'Aubert conjured him not to betray her secret, told him her\nstory, and how it had been chiefly through his mother she had\nsucceeded in escaping from Russia.\n\nDelighted at the double discovery, Moritz promised to keep the secret\nthree months, at the expiration of which time he declared it to be\nhis duty to communicate the fact to the King of France, Louis XV.\n\nD'Aubert being recovered, they sailed for l'ile Bourbon.  At the end\nof three months Moritz revealed the secret to the French sovereign,\nand the governor of the island of Bourbon received forthwith the\ncommand to treat Madame d'Aubert with royal honours.  The King wrote\nto Maria Theresa, acquainting her with the fabulous history of her\ncousin.  The Empress wrote to Madame d'Aubert, beseeching her to\nleave her husband and repair to the Austrian Court.  This the\nPrincess refused to do, and remained on the island till d'Aubert's\ndeath, in 1754.  After the death of both husband and daughter, she\nreturned to Paris, settled the affairs of her husband, and retired to\nBrussels, where she received an annual pension from the Austrian\nEmpress.  Charlotte lived a retired life, no one but the now aged\nwaiting-woman who had fled with her having the remotest idea of her\nhigh rank and astounding fate.  Charlotte died in 1770.\n\nThe portraits of the three sisters and the great Maria Theresa hang\nin Blankenburg Schloss.\n\n\n\n\nThe Grave under the Lindens near Blankenburg.\n\n  \"Sie ruhen bei einander k\u00fchl,\n  Waldv\u00f6glein sangen droben,\n  Gr\u00fcn Laub herunter fiel.\"\n\nMany hundred years ago there lived a rich Earl in the Unterharz, who\nwas once seized with a severe illness; he made a vow that if he\nshould recover, he would consecrate his daughter to a convent life.\n\nHe recovered, and the young Countess, in the first bloom of her\nyouth, entered the convent north of and near Blankenburg, where now\ntwo large lindens stand close by the bleaching-place.\n\nThe maiden obeyed her father's command with a heavy heart, for a\nyoung knight contested with heaven his claim on the bride; and\nhowever much the novice knelt before the altar in burning tears and\nhand-wringing, and besought heavenly aid in renouncing all she had\nhitherto held dear, still her thoughts would wander beyond the dark\nconvent walls and lonely cell to her lover.  _Nobis pacem_ only\nawakened a more bitter pain, and the _Ave_, the _Laudamus_, the\n_Gloria_, and all the Penitential Psalms only called up his image\nbefore her soul.\n\nLindor was not less unhappy; in vain he sought to approach his\n_Braut_, wandered round and round the convent walls, climbed the\ntrees, and watched to catch a glimpse of her, all in vain.  The\nAbbess knew of the love of the young novice, and watched her with\nArgus eyes, not out of holy zeal, for the convent had long been\nill-renowned for the impure life of its inmates, but out of hatred to\nthe maiden whose father she had loved, but with an unrequited\naffection.  She rejoiced in the deep sorrow of the daughter of the\nnow hated Earl, whose pure, pious, unsoiled character enraged her\nstill more, in striking contrast to her own depravity and corruption.\nOne day the sorrowing novice, unhappily, by accident discovered how\nunworthily the Abbess filled her sacred office, and how great the\nimmorality of the nuns had become, and the Abbess, to render Lina\npowerless to injure her, resolved to destroy her.\n\nShe called together those nuns who were in her full confidence,\nrepresented to them how they had to fear betrayal from the novice\nLina, and to defend themselves they must destroy her.\n\nThis would be most easily accomplished by permitting a meeting with\nher lover after she had assumed the veil, surprise her, accuse her of\nbreaking her vow, and then wall her up alive.\n\nThe reprobates approved of this diabolical plan, and as soon as\nLina's novitiate was ended, and she had taken the final vows, they\nembraced the first opportunity, when Lindor was seen in the convent\ngrounds, by giving Lina permission to walk in the garden.\n\nIt was a sultry Saturday evening, the sun had set, and had left,\ninstead of a golden twilight, only a grey, cloudy veil, which,\nincreased by the mountain mists, spread gradually over the entire\nheavens, proclaiming a coming thunder-storm.\n\nLina, although she had long languished for fresh air, found no\nrelief.  She glanced toward heaven, but both moon and stars were\nhidden behind the dark clouds; the flowers hung sadly their drooping\nheads, as if in sympathy with the maiden doomed to a convent life.\nShe sat down much shaken on a seat of turf shaded by two lindens, and\nthe tears streamed from her eyes.  Suddenly she felt herself\nembraced.  A cry of delighted surprise escaped her, for it was\nLindor, her beloved.  All sorrow and pain were forgotten in the bliss\nof the meeting, and Lindor kissed the tears from her burning cheeks.\n\nA blissful moment the lovers embraced each other; then came a feeling\nof duty, of assumed vows before the soul of the bride of heaven like\na fiend of darkness.  She tore herself from his arms.\n\n\"Lindor!  Lindor!\" she moaned, \"I am lost to thee; our embrace is\nsin!  O God!  God of Love! have mercy on the sinner!  Lindor!\nLindor! have thou also pity!  Leave me.\"\n\n\"Leave thee!  Nevermore!\" cried passionately the youth; \"now thou art\nmine for ever.  Thou shalt flee with me, and no power on earth shall\ntear thee from me.  Thou art mine, mine till death!\"\n\n\"And my oath,\" cried Lina--\"the oath I have taken?\"\n\nLindor turned pale.  \"So thou hast already taken the vows, art no\nlonger novice?  Art irrevocably chained to the convent?\" he cried in\nhorror, for even love started back from the gulf that such an oath\nhad made between them, opposing their union.  \"Then I am lost, my\nlife-happiness is annihilated!\"\n\n\"And mine too!\" sobbed Lina in his arms.\n\n\"Or wilt thou flee with me?  We will hide ourselves far from our\nnative land, where no searcher can find us, and undisturbed we will\nbe happy.\"\n\nBut Lina refused, \"My oath, my oath, would it leave us peace?  Would\nI not draw down thy soul to perdition?  See, my anguish will soon be\nover, and I will wait for thee above.  Give me up for this life, that\nGod may grant us a blessed future, Lindor.\"\n\nHe gazed on the ground and was silent.  At last he gave her the hand.\n\"Let it be so,\" he said, struggling for firmness.  \"Thou art still\nmine; if not here, there above.\"\n\nMeanwhile the storm-clouds had blackened, and a loud clap of thunder\nrolled over the heads of the parting lovers.  Both looked up, but did\nnot see the Abbess, who was watching them for their destruction.\n\n\"Now let us part for this life,\" said Lina, who felt her soul\nelevated and strengthened.\n\n\"Must it be so?  Must I lose thee, when I have just found thee?\"\n\nAs they gave each other a parting embrace, Lina could not tear\nherself from her lover's arms, and cried, \"O Father in heaven!  give\nme strength in this parting hour, and forgive me if my love is sin;\nbut if it is not sin, bless our union.\"\n\n\"Bless our union!\" repeated Lindor.  At this moment the Abbess with\nher nuns came forward, when lo, a flash of lightning lit up the\ndarkness; the lovers stood in a sea of dazzling light; it seemed to\nthem they saw heaven open.  Arm-in-arm, struck by the stroke, they\nsank lifeless to the ground.  Almost unhurt in appearance, they found\nthem under the lindens, heavenly joy painted on their faces, and\nthere they made their grave.\n\nThe terrified Abbess had scarcely sprung back into the convent when a\nstream of fire, after a terrific thunder-clap, dashed the building to\nruins, out of which arose a pillar of dust and flame.\n\nOnly a few of the nuns were rescued.  The Abbess and her plotting\nnuns were found awfully disfigured; and now, it is said, the Abbess\nappears in form of a serpent every seven years near the grave under\nthe lindens.\n\n\n\n\nLegends of the Regenstein.\n\nWho that has visited the romantic Harz has not climbed the lordly\nsandstone mountain, the Reinstein, wondered at its vast chambers hewn\nin solid rock, and gazed in silent rapture on a prospect more\nbeautiful than that from the Brocken?\n\nIn the year 479, according to the chroniclers, the sharp contest\nbetween the tribes of Thuringia and the Sassen[1] took place for the\npossession of the Harz mountains.  McIverich, King of Thuringia, with\nhis army thirsting for war, crossed the mountains to repulse the\nSassen then dwelling on the north borders of the Harz.\n\n\n[1]Saxons.\n\n\nNear Wernigerode a bloody battle was fought, in which the Thuringians\nwere defeated, and five thousand left dead on the field.\n\nPerhaps the Hun Stones still standing between Heimburg and\nBenzingerode have reference to this fiery collision, and the ancient\nburial-places discovered in the vicinity were the graves of those\nfallen in this contest.\n\nAfter the battle the Sassen recognized the fact that to their leader,\nHatebolt, they owed the victory; and to prove their gratitude they\noffered to build him a castle on the north borders of the Harz, in\nany spot he might choose.  So Hatebolt rode till he came to a stone\nmountain, which was, as if by nature, formed for a stronghold.  It\nrose rugged and steep from the sandy heath to a mighty rock, and\nformed a row of impassable cliffs, the western summits of which\nwidened into a table-land sufficiently broad for the site of a castle.\n\nAnd Hatebolt pointed to the row of rocks and cried in the language of\nthe Sassen, \"On this Regenstein[2] my Burg shall stand!\"\n\n\n[2] _Regenstein_, or _Reinstein_, row of rocks.\n\n\nThat is the fortress whose magnificent position still delights us, at\nwhose ruins we gaze in amazement, in whose halls and chambers, almost\nentirely hewn in the rocks, we see the work of a far distant time,\nwhen comfort and luxury were unknown in this region.\n\nFrom these grey ruins, from the grim vaults, the half-fallen tower,\nand the deep dungeon, breathes the spirit of the past, and whispers\nmany a legendary note in the ear.  Is it the mysterious Devil's Hole\nin an ancient vault, with the date 1090, near which house spectres,\nwhose employment it is ever to fill this four feet deep and wide hole\nwith stones; or the opening in one of the largest rock walls, which\nproclaims a conquest of the castle; or the ruinated chapel, with its\ntiny Gothic door and two windows, and the aumbry still in the wall at\nthe right on entering, the over-grown moat to the east and south, the\narched entrance, the many half-broken flights of stone steps?  All\nthis has an untold mystic charm.\n\nThe opening in the wall was made at a seizure of the castle, which\ntradition tells us was accomplished by stratagem.\n\nThe besiegers had lain long before the stronghold in vain, had\nstormed the walls and the stronger rocks without success, and\nfinally, evidently convinced that the fortress was impregnable, had\nraised the siege.  And now there were feasting and joy, and the Earl\nvon Regenstein commanded the best wine to be brought.  But for\nsecurity, in case of another attack, he resolved to lay in fresh\nprovisions, and accordingly sent a messenger to the surrounding\nvillages with an order to the people forthwith to bring the needful\nsupplies.\n\nIn a short time a troop of peasants, men and women, appeared,\nhalf-bent from the weight of baskets on their backs, and tubs of\nbutter and cheese under the arm.  The great gates were opened, the\ndrawbridge lowered, and the troop entered.  But once inside, they\nthrew baskets and tubs to the winds, seized their arms, drove back\nthe surprised guard, and at the same time a party in ambush rushed\nover the drawbridge.  They cut down all that opposed them, but the\nEarl was nowhere to be found.  When he saw himself outwitted, and\nthat all opposition was useless, and every issue from the fortress in\npossession of the enemy, he caused himself to be sewed up in a bed,\nand let down on the north and perpendicular side of the rocks with\nropes.  The opening is still shown in one of the rocky chambers\nthrough which he is said to have escaped.\n\nAnother legend is connected with the dungeon, which is hewn deep down\nin the rocks.  A captured maiden had been imprisoned here, and had\nsat long in the darkness of constant night, hearing no sound save\nthat of the raging storms that beat against the rocks.  Escape was\nimpossible.  One day she lay on her bed of straw, and sought comfort\nin fervent prayer.  And there dawned a distant hope in her mind.  She\nlistened to the storm, and heard the hail beat against the rock walls\nof the dungeon, hence they must be thin.  Might she perhaps break\nthrough the rocks?  They are only very porous sandstone.  It is a\nbold thought, no sooner awakened in her mind than put in execution.\nShe used the ring of the dungeon to break away bits of the rock, and\nworked many moons till she had an opening large enough to creep\nthrough.  But what was her despair to find she stood on a dizzy\nheight, and the fearful depth yawned beneath her.  Still she did not\nhesitate, but began climbing down the smooth rocks, which offered\nonly here and there a crevice to her aid.  But Tradition, who\nbelieveth all things and never faileth, says she reached the foot of\nthe mountain and her father's castle in safety.\n\nAnother legend relates how a wealthy countryman had lent an Earl von\nRegenstein a large sum of money, but when he came to demand payment\nwas repulsed with scorn and derision.  Soon after the Earl did not\nreturn from a predatory excursion, and many singular reports were\ncirculated concerning his death.  The countryman hoped for payment\nfrom the Earl's heir, but he treated him more roughly than his\npredecessor had done.  The creditor, on his way home, heard suddenly\na loud noise like the crackling of flames.  He looked around and saw\na cleft in the mountain, from which issued smoke.  He went and looked\nin.  It was the mouth of a cave, in the deeps of which pitch and\nsulphur flames with loud hissing enveloped each other, and in the\nmidst of this fire-gulf he saw a human form, over which the flames\nswept without consuming it, and which sought, wailing and moaning, to\nescape, but fell ever back into the boiling heat, with wringing of\nhands and tearing of hair.\n\nHe soon recognized the Earl, who after some minutes saw the creditor\nwhom he had cheated at the entrance to the cave, and broke out in\nlamentations and entreaties.\n\n\"Oh! see how I must suffer for my injustice.  Have pity on my\nanguish, forgive my crime.  Take my signet ring, go to my successor,\ntell him what you have seen, warn him not to act as I have done, and\nto pay my debt, that I may escape from this bed of flames.\"\n\nThe countryman hastened to fulfil the commission, showing the signet\nring.  He was at once paid with heavy interest, and the castle\nchaplain received orders to read a mass for the suffering soul.\n\nOn his way home the countryman looked again into the cave, but\nnothing more was to be seen either of the flames or the guilty Earl.\n\nThe Spectre Maiden of the Regenstein still haunts the ruins.\n\nHow solemnly the old ruinated fortress looks down upon the plain\nbathed in the rich lights of sunset.  And around the walls and the\ntower sighs a spirit, and sighs the storm.\n\nLet thy stay there be short and cautious, for the ruins are haunted\nby night.  A maiden form rises from the dark vault, and wanders to\nthe tower, and to the great gates, and an innocent countenance smiles\nupon thee.  Guard thyself well, O wanderer; gaze not so deep in the\nmournful eyes; it is the Spectre-Maiden.  She bows to thee in\ngraceful greeting, she offers thee the full lips to kiss, she\nbeckons, she spreads out the arms.  Oh, follow her not!  Her breath\nis poison!  If thou grant her the kiss, thou wilt fall an\nirrecoverable prey to death.  Her greeting, her beckon, are not for\nthee; she waits here for her lover.\n\nAs Crusader, he marched to the Holy Sepulchre.  She is gazing after\nhim from the tower, waiting for his return by the broken drawbridge,\nand wanders ever in search of him.\n\nIf she meet thee, she will fancy thou art her fallen hero-lover.  If\nthou dost follow when she beckons, she will draw thee into an open\ngrave with ice-cold arms.\n\n  Oh! guard thyself well when in her sight,\n  For she haunts the Regenstein by night!\n\n\n\n\nThe Lost Sketch-Book of the Regenstein Chapel.\n\nThe Baronin von Felsen had led her young English friend, May\nRosenmore, through the ruins of Schloss Regenstein, the authentic\nhistory of which begins with Kaiser Henry the Fowler, till at last\nthey wandered to the tiny roofless chapel.\n\nAs May entered it through the Gothic door, scarcely high enough to\npass under without stooping, the first object on which her eyes fell\nwas a crimson morocco sketch-book, closing like a pocket-book, nearly\nfilled with sketches.\n\nThe last two sketches were--first, an arbour, in which a lady and\ngentleman are seated; the lady is arranging roses from a basket\nbefore her, while her companion reads to her.  The last sketch is the\nempty arbour; the book lies open upside-down on the table, the roses\nare fallen on the ground.  In the pocket was a photo of a lady and\ngentleman together, the latter in officer's uniform.\n\n\"What a contrast to these grim ruins, with all their legendary\nmemories, is this elegant scrap of modern art!\" exclaimed May.  \"I am\nsure there is some sad history associated with this little book.\nPerhaps I may find the owner.\"\n\n\"Warum nicht?\" replied the Baronin.  \"The woman in the Bible found\nher piece of silver, the shepherd his lost sheep, Saul found his\nfather's ass, Jochebed found her baby, Joseph found his brethren,\npoor old Jacob found his long-lost Joseph, and the loser of this\nsketch-book may be as fortunate.\"\n\nA few days after this event the Baronin gave a _Kaffee_ to a large\nGesellschaft, in the park of Schloss Stolzstein.  The company sat\ngrouped here and there under the clumps of old beeches and oaks, the\ndeer cast their shadows in the clear lake, graced with swans, and\nsomewhere in the background the music of a military Capelle floated\nsoftly on the air.\n\nMay Rosenmore amused herself with a study of the varied characters\npresent, and with German manners, which were new to her.\n\nA maiden lady, the Baronin von Schattenthal, who was staying at the\nCastle with her young orphan niece, interested her with her quaint\nhumour and sound common sense.\n\nLittle Amalia came out with her attendant to her aunt.  She was a\nlovely child, with long auburn curls, and a dash of the French\ncharacter, for her mother was a Pole.\n\nFinding that her aunt paid no attention to her toilette nor her\ncurls, Amalia finally whispered, \"See, Tante, Gretchen has curled my\nhair.\"\n\n\"I see, my dear,\" said the Baronin; \"but it will do you no harm if\nyour hair does curl, if you are a good little girl.\"\n\nAmalia's crestfallen, puzzled look as she walked away were amusing\nenough.\n\nSoon after she came back with a very knotty question.\n\n\"Tante, could all our family ride on an elephant at once?  Gretchen\nsays they _could_.\"\n\n\"Yes, child, several small families could ride on an elephant at\nonce.\"\n\nBut May was not left long at leisure to amuse herself with the pretty\nchild.\n\nHer hostess brought and introduced to her Baron von Stammnitz, fresh\nfrom the Heidelberg University.  She soon found, however, that he was\npossessed of much finer cultivated hair and moustache than mind.  He\nhad dipped a little into the natural sciences, and learned a\nsmattering of some of the absurdities of German Pantheism, and held\nhimself competent to solve the mysteries of creation, and moral\nrelations, of the universe and of mind, much better than the\nold-fashioned Moses and the Prophets, or St. Paul.\n\nIt is this false moral training of the students of Germany that will\nprove one of her greatest dangers in the future.\n\nBaron von Stammnitz had studied English, and began at once to edify\nMay by airing it.  She expressed her admiration of the Harz, its\nhistory and legends.\n\nHe replied, \"Yes, the Harz is highly interesting, but chiefly so\nthrough its old leg-ends.\"\n\nBut let us not be too hard on the Baron in this respect, for the\nEnglish often make as ludicrous errors in German.  The writer heard a\nyoung lady in Cologne order Himmelfleisch, meaning Hammelfleisch.\nShe intended to ask for mutton, but in reality ordered heaven's meat.\nAnd the waiter, with his solemn, impenetrable face, replied, \"I\nregret we have not that dish.\"\n\nA gentleman in Leipzig ordered Kinderbraten and Pantoffel--child\nroast and slippers!  He wanted Rinderbraten and Kartoffel--roast beef\nand potatoes!\n\nPeople who drop their H's in English do the same in German.  An\nEnglish girl driving away from Ballenstedt, cried out, \"Farewell,\nArz!\"\n\nAt the hotel by the Radau waterfall an old man ordered the Kellner to\nbring beer, and called after him, \"Aber ell!\"  Hell he meant--clear\nor white in contrast to brown beer.\n\nHe had been parading about and ordering the Kellner as if he owned\nthe whole place, which made his missing h all the more amusing.\n\nBut to return to the Baron.  May spoke of the towered village church\nnestling so confidingly in the rich foliage, and regretted she had\nnot yet seen the interior, but hoped to the following Sunday.\n\n\"Pray, Miss Rosenmore, you do not keep up that absurd idea of going\nto church?  I have not been in a church for five years.  While they\ninsist on preaching the old fables that nobody believes any more, I\nshall not go.  I can attend to my religion much better in my own\nroom, or in the woods, where the trees form nobler Gothic arches than\nany cathedral, from K\u00f6ln and Halberstadt down.  Even meine Mutter\ntold me not to trouble myself about the Bible, for there was no truth\nin it.\"\n\n\"Woe to any mother who could give such advice!\" cried May, in great\nexcitement.  She spoke of some of the strongest proofs of the Divine\norigin of the Bible, and asked the Baron if he could explain why it\nwas that Christian nations were the most elevated, those without the\nlight of revelation being the degraded ones.\n\n\"Oh!\" said he, \"such a view has something beautiful in it; but it is\nonly a delusion, a transition period in the history and development\nof mind, I might say, the Raupenkleid--chrysalis--of education, out\nof which the splendid and brilliant butterfly of free thought breaks\nforth, and Science unfolds her golden wings, and in her commanding\npresence, the old orthodox Bible-faith can never again lift its head.\n\n\"There is an endless primeval matter, I may say the Urkraft--first\ncause--of all things, which is scattered in countless atoms in\neternal space.\n\n\"From this primeval matter, during the course of millions on millions\nof ages, slowly and gradually unfolded beings, from the most\ninsignificant to the highest.  From a scrap of mud, through the\neffect of light and heat, perhaps by contact with some other body, a\nfrog was produced.  Nearest related to the frog stands the\nLabyrinthodonten, whose hand-like foot-tracks have been found in the\nsandstone, and which is decidedly the transition between these\nanimals and the higher species of the ape; and from the ape, during\nimpossible-to-comprehend ages, man has sprung, at first rough and\nanimal, as we see to-day in savage races, from step to step unfolding\nand rising, till we have the Mensch of our present civilization and\nrefinement.\"\n\nAll this was said with a foppish, self-satisfied air, as if he were a\npersonification of wisdom.  May looked at him in amazement, wondering\nat his shallowness.\n\nAt length she said, \"Concerning origin and ancestors I will not now\ndispute.  If you deny the Bible, we have no common ground of\nargument; and if your argument be true, we have after this\nlife--nothing.  Let proud Science beware lest she scorch her 'golden\nwings' in the avenging fire of Divine wrath.\n\n\"If you are content with the doctrine of man's descent from an ape,\noriginally, according to your own argument, from a frog!  I deny its\ntruth, and claim mine from an eternal, omnipotent and holy Creator,\nand personal Father, not simply an eviges Sein--eternal state of\nbeing--but something infinitely and incomprehensibly more exalted.\"\n\nHere the conversation was interrupted by the approach of the Baronin,\naccompanied by a tall noble-looking lady attired in black.\n\nMay started, for it was the lady in the photo of the lost\nsketch-book.  Her friend introduced the stranger as the Countess von\nOmnesky, a lady of Russian birth, but who had been partly educated in\nEngland, her father having long filled an official position there\nunder the Russian Government.\n\nThe Countess was still young, only five-and-twenty, of a pale,\nmelancholy, but highly intelligent countenance, and her sapphire blue\neyes had a mournful, far-away look in them, that touched one deeply.\n\nTheir conversation turned on the beauties of Harz scenery, and its\nromantic ruins, and the Countess remarked she had only the other day\nvisited the Regenstein, and during the day had lost an object, to her\nof great value--a sketch-book, filled by her late husband, with the\nexception of the last sketch, which she had herself sketched after\nhis death.\n\nMay drew forth the sketch-book, which she had purposely carried in\nher pocket, and handed it to her, remarking she had recognized her\nfrom the photo at the first glance, and explained how it had come\ninto her possession.\n\nThe Countess turned to the sketch in the arbour, remarking, \"We were\nsitting thus, when Karl was summoned to join his regiment at the\nbreaking out of the last war between France and Germany.  We had only\nbeen married three weeks when France declared war, and my joy was\nbroken for ever.  If you will not be wearied, I will tell you the\nhistory.\"\n\nMay assured her of her deep interest and sympathy, and they seated\nthemselves under a magnificent oak near the lake.\n\n\"My sister Olga and I were married on the same day to two brothers,\nGerman officers, just three weeks before the commencement of the war.\nWe were in Switzerland at the time of the mobilization of the German\narmy, and hastening to obey the call, we repaired to Berlin, where we\ntook leave of one another, never again all to meet in this world.\n\n\"Olga and I remained a short time in Berlin, but after the reports of\nthe battle _bei_ Worth we grew too excited to stay so far from the\nscene of action; and accordingly went to Baden, taking only our maid\nwith us, and not wishing to go to an hotel, we took apartments in a\nprivate _pension_ kept by a family from Edinburgh, two old maids and\ntheir brother, Mac Stab by name; and though I have travelled over\nnearly all Europe their equal I have never met, and have reason to\nbelieve Scotland or Germany could produce few such creatures.\n\n\"You may imagine the difficulties of travelling in time of war, with\nsoldiers being transported to active service, and the sick and\nwounded to hospitals; and we lost our luggage, consisting only of two\ntrunks.\n\n\"We explained to the elder Miss Mac Stab, who wore a couple of\npig-tail curls each side of her face, that our trunks were lost, but\nwe hoped would be found in a day or two.\n\n\"The second day passed, but our missing trunks did not appear--in\nfact never did--and the third morning, as poor Olga was descending\nthe stairs for breakfast, Miss Mac Stab attacked her crying out, 'See\nthe painted Jezebel! with her curls and diamond rings!  The impostor\nseeks to deceive honest folk with her pretended wedding ring and\ntales of lost luggage!'\n\n\"Olga in perfect terror, pale as marble, came rushing to meet me.\nShe could not speak, and did not need to, for I had heard what had\npassed.  I took Olga by the arm and walked firmly to the\nbreakfast-room.  Miss Mac Stab was arranging our breakfast-table as\nwe entered.  I inquired if any letters were come.\n\n\"Miss Mac Stab glowered at us with an awful face, and replied\nsavagely, in coarse tones, 'Yes, here is a letter; but you wrote and\nsent it to the post yourselves; nobody would write to the likes of\nyou.  Such grand pretensions, with your crests!  You'll not get no\nmore letters here; I'll intercept them, and expose your falsehoods.'\n\n\"We hastened to our rooms, and sent Paulina to call a carriage.  I\nknew there was an English clergyman in the place, the Rev. William\nSamper, and we thought it better to acquaint him with our\nembarrassment, as we were alone, and ask his advice.\n\n\"Olga went, taking Paulina with her, and I remained alone.  There\nwere two or three strangers staying in the house who had also gone\nout, hence there was no one but the family at home.\n\n\"The day before, on going out for a drive, we had locked our door,\nand the Mac Stabs denied our right to lock any door, or even to keep\nany door-key.  No sooner was Olga gone than Miss Mac Stab,\naccompanied by her brother and sister, came upstairs and entered my\nroom without knocking.  Mr. Mac Stab demanded the keys.  I told him I\nshould not deliver up the keys till I had done with the apartments,\nand expressed my surprise at the insolence in thus entering my room\nunbidden, and the cowardice of such conduct when no one was there to\nsee or hear.  Miss Mac Stab, with one sweep of her hand, brushed all\nmy writing materials on the floor, and her no less amiable brother\nseated himself, saying he should wait till he had the keys.  'You\nwill wait, then,' I said, 'until my sister and maid return.'\n\n\"'My maid'! cried Miss Mac Stab.  Just then a loud ring hurried them\nall away.\n\n\"I locked my door till Olga returned.  She had seen Mr. Samper, and\nshown our letters, and he would be with us in a few moments.  He came\nand insisted on our going with him, perfect strangers though we were,\nat once to his house; assuring us Mrs. Samper was expecting us,\nbreakfast was being made ready, and our rooms awaited us.\n\n\"The very atmosphere of their house was peace, and Mrs. Samper was\nlike a mother to us, and the noble Christian pair have the warmest\nplace in my memory and heart.  The following day Mr. Samper received\na letter from the Mac Stabs, claiming damages for a broken S\u00e8vres\nvase and an injured piano, amounting to four pounds--all, of course,\nabsolutely false.  Mr. Samper wrote declining any further\ncorrespondence, and informed them the post and the law were open.\n\n\"Karl and Franz, on hearing our story, sent them a solicitor's\nletter, demanding an explanation of their infamous conduct to two\ndefenceless ladies.  The reply to this letter was absolute silence,\nand the sudden disappearance of the Mac Stabs from the town.  We\nfound they had treated many badly, and had sought in various\ninstances, by driving people to leave before the expiration of the\ntime already paid for, or by involving them in law proceedings, to\ngain money.\n\n\"We stayed a few days with the good minister, but in a state of\nfeverish excitement, watching the descriptions of succeeding battles,\nand reading the lists of wounded, dead, and missing with a horrible\nfascination.\n\n\"At last we could bear the uncertainty no longer, and assuming the\ndresses of nuns, we joined several actual nuns and a couple of\nsurgeons, who were going to France to follow the second army, in\nwhich Franz and Karl served, to nurse the wounded, seeking them out\non the battle-field, which was very necessary, for there were not\nnurses and surgeons sufficient for the need, and many died for the\nlack of nursing in time.\n\n\"At length came the terrible battle of Mars la Tour--St. Hilaire, or\nVionville--in the burning heat of August--the 16th it was--and Major\nFranz Omnesky was among the missing.  Olga set off alone in her wild\ngrief, to search on the battle-field, knowing we would not let her\ngo; and when we first missed her, we had no idea how long she had\nbeen gone.\n\n\"Oh! how shall I attempt to depict that dreadful night-scene among\nthe dead and dying on the field of Mars la Tour?  The pale, ghastly\nfaces looking up to God's pure, blue heavens so _fearfully calm_\nabove all this human woe and anguish.\n\n\"Among the heaps of the slain, stumbling over horse and rider, we\nsearched till night grew pale before the dawn, and then we found what\nwe sought--and dreaded to find--Franz dead, and Olga lying with her\nhead on his breast, in a deathly swoon, her garments wet with dew,\nand her long beautiful hair falling over her dead husband's face.\n\n\"Olga never rallied; the grief, exposure, and fatigue were too much\nfor her delicate frame and passionate love for Franz.  We laid them\nboth in one grave, on a knoll, under a clump of limes--the two brave\nhearts so true and noble.\n\n\"Then came the 18th of August, that most murderous of all the\nengagements of the war, the battle of Gravelotte, in which the Kaiser\ncommanded in person, with a brilliant staff, Prinz Friedrich Karl,\nSteinmetz, Moltke, Roon, Bismarck being on it.\n\n\"Colonel Karl Omnesky was among the wounded, and I hastened on to\nnurse him, as I hoped, to renewed life and vigour, but the moment I\nsaw him all hope died for ever.  Death was written on his noble brow,\nbut his great, deep violet eyes looked bravely and tenderly as ever\ninto mine.  Oh those precious days!  Golden is their memory, though\nso unspeakably sad.\n\n\"He was ready to go, awaiting eagerly the change to the better land,\nbut full of a tender sympathy and sorrow for me and his unborn child.\n\n\"He never was weary of hearing that wonderful prayer of our Saviour,\nthe seventeenth of St. John, and the fifteenth of the First Epistle\nto the Corinthians.\n\n\"Often, accompanied by the harp he so loved, I sang his favourite\nlines, my heart frantic with grief, but outwardly calm, for God lent\nme strength.\n\n  \"'Bleibe bei mir vom Morgen bis Abend,\n  Denn ohne Dich kann ich nicht leben.\n  Bleibe bei mir denn die Nacht ist dunkel,\n  Und ohne Dich darf ich nicht sterben.'\n\n  \"'Abide with me from morn till eve,\n  For without Thee I cannot live.\n  Abide with me when night is nigh,\n  For without Thee I cannot die.'\n\n\n\"The noble-hearted Kaiser honoured my dying husband, before the\nsecond army moved on, with a visit, and the tear his Majesty brushed\naway did honour to the Sovereign so deservedly beloved.\n\n\"In peace my poor Karl died, and I closed the loving eyes--and my\nheart died.\n\n\"I buried him beside Olga and Franz, and am building a chapel over\nthem.\n\n\"Five months after Karl's death my golden-haired Tatjana was born.\nFor her sake I strive to reconcile myself to life.\n\n\"But, alas! my wealth and joy are--a grave!\n\n\"Sitting the other day in the enchanting valley of the graceful Ilse,\nleaping proudly and gaily in a thousand tiny waterfalls over the\nmoss-grown stones, as if conscious of her royal origin, I wrote the\nfollowing lines, which express faintly my feelings, and which I beg\nyou to keep as a souvenir of our first meeting.\n\n  ALONE.\n\n  \"The sun has set, the evening brightness fades,\n  The gloom increases in the forest glades;\n  And a deep sadness all my soul pervades:\n                          I am alone.\n\n  \"A wild bird here and there still sings to cheer\n  His mate that nestles in the thicket near;\n  But ah! no voice of love falls on my ear:\n                          I am alone.\n\n  \"The gentle air plays with the rustling leaves,\n  Sweet with the fragrant odours it receives;\n  My bosom with no whispered incense heaves:\n                          I am alone.\n\n  \"A distant horn the evening silence breaks,\n  The mountain in soft echoes answer makes;\n  No heart responsive to my voice awakes:\n                          I am alone.\n\n  \"O'er rocky heights the Ilse, wild and free,\n  Hastes like an eager lover to the sea;\n  But whither shall _I_ turn for love?  Ah me!\n                          I am alone.\n\n  \"Still dreaming dreams I can to none impart,\n  I live with Nature and my own sad heart;\n  Whatever comes of joy or suffering's smart,\n                          I bear alone.\"\n\nThe following is the German translation:--\n\n  Des Abends ros'ger Glanz erbleicht, das Land\n  Wird dunkel, dunkel wird's am Waldesrand;\n  In mir auch nachtel's, einsam ist die Hand:\n                          Ich bin allein.\n\n  Ein Vogel hier und dort dem Weibchen singt,\n  Das nestlos n\u00e4he lauscht, wie's zu ihm klingt;\n  Zu meinem Ohr kein Ruf der Liebe dringt:\n                          Ich bin allein.\n\n  Die Bl\u00e4tter lispeln, sie umkost die Luft\n  Mit sanftem Spiel, einathmend ihren Duft;\n  Wer fl\u00fcstert Balsam mir in's Herz hinein?\n                        Ich bin allein.\n\n  Ein fernes Horn ert\u00f6nt mit sanftem Schall,\n  Der Berg antw\u00f6rtet ihm im Wiederhall;\n  Auf meinen Laut erwacht kein Herz im All:\n                        Ich bin allein.\n\n  Es st\u00fcrzt die Ilse sich vom Felsbett her\n  In hast'gem Liebeslauf hinab zum Meer;\n  Doch ich? wohin? die Welt ist liebeleer:\n                        Ich bin allein.\n\n  Noch tr\u00e4um' ich Tr\u00e4ume, doch sie theilt kein Herzr\n  Allein mit der Natur und meinem Schmerz,\n  --Kommt Freude mir, bricht Leid herein:\n                        Ich trag's allein.\n\n\n\n\nThe Flower of the Lauenburg.\n\nBroken walls of the grey, long-past centuries, on the wooded\nmountains, a dilapidated tower, moats overgrown with wild thorns, a\nfew dark and gloomy vaults, and half-fallen windows and arches--those\nare the small remains of the most magnificent of the former castles\nof the Harz mountains, the ruins of the ancient seat of the\nCounts-palatine, the Lauenburg.\n\nIn former days the spot lay much more desolate than now; the old ways\nand the delicious wood-paths had not been opened up.\n\nHeaps of rubbish and shapeless ruins lay scattered everywhere;\nscarcely could the wanderer break his way through the creepers of the\ncommon virgin's bower, and the prickles of the buckthorn over the\nmoss-grown walls, to the broken tower.\n\nBut the young people of Dorf Steckelnberg, at the foot of the lower\nadjacent mountain, on which lie the ruins of Schloss Steckelnburg,\nfound their way easier; it was just the wild and savage character of\nthe place that attracted them, and it was very seldom that a troop of\nmerry boys did not choose the lonely ruins as the scene of their\ngames, and even timorous maidens ventured to approach the haunted\nwalls in their search after berries and wild-flowers.\n\nOnce, more than a hundred years ago, on St. John's Day, a number of\nchildren from Steckelnberg were scattered in the thickets around the\nruins gathering flowers and making wreaths and garlands, when\nsuddenly one of the boys uttered a cry of astonishment.\n\nThe others ran to him, and lo! there stood on the edge of the tower\nwalls, then rising only the height of a man from the _d\u00e9bris_, a\nwonderful flower, the like of which the children had never seen\nbefore.\n\nIt looked so strange, and still seemed to gaze so mildly and\nconfidentially in the eyes of the children, that they all at once\nfancied something supernatural in the flower.\n\nThey had often heard their parents and grandparents relate how once,\nin the greyest times, a maiden had been carried off by the Ritter of\nthe Lauenburg, and in the hour of her greatest danger had been\nrescued from his power by transformation into a flower, which bloomed\nevery year a single day, and the maiden came and wandered a single\nnight through the ruins.\n\n\"Might this be the flower?\" they asked.\n\nAt last one of the boys began climbing up the tower walls to pluck\nit, when he heard a soft voice murmur so clearly that all heard it,\n\"Do not pluck me.\"\n\nThe boy started back in affright; but, vexed at his fear, feeling\nsure a flower could not speak, he began again to mount the tower; but\nthe same voice came from the flower, \"Do not pluck me,\" and the\nchildren cried, \"Give it up and come down!\"\n\nThis excited him still more, and stretching out his hand to pick the\nflower, a hideous serpent raised its head hissing from under the\nleaves, when the boy fell back in deadly terror among thorns and\nfallen stones; and was carried home with broken limbs.\n\nAgain, on a St. John's Day, the children of Steckelnberg played among\nthe ruins of the Lauenburg, when they saw again the wonderful flower,\nand heard the same soft voice, \"Do not pluck me.\"  In affright they\nfled down the mountain.\n\nBut a quiet little girl had remained behind, for it seemed to her the\nflower did not say, \"Do not pluck me,\" but, \"Pluck me.\"  Hence she\nstood thoughtfully gazing in the flower's clear eye, when again she\nheard in soft tones, \"Pluck me! pluck me!\"\n\nThe maiden came nearer, the flower's glance grew more loving, but\nunder her leaves she saw the serpent-head, which rose hissing and\ncoiling.\n\nThen she drew back her hand, and dared not touch the flower, and as\nshe fled she heard still the voice, \"Only pluck me!\"\n\nThe next day she went back, determined to obey the voice, and pick\nthe flower, but it and the serpent had vanished.\n\nYears fled.  The little girl had grown to womanhood and become the\nBraut of an honest but poor youth.\n\nThen she recalled the wonder-flower and entreating voice, and thought\nto herself she had missed her good fortune through her disobedience.\n\nThis she related to her lover one day as they wandered through the\nwood around the ruins.\n\nAnd he strove to comfort her, and thought they were enough in each\nother, and would be able to support themselves without aid from the\nworld of enchantment; but in his mind he thought she might have\ngathered the flower, for tales were still told of great treasures\nguarded by the maiden of the Lauenburg, and he had himself already\nseen much of the wonder-world, and the influence of higher powers\nover human destiny.\n\nWas he not a Sunday child?[1]\n\n\n[1] In the Harz it is said all children born on Sunday are always\nfortunate.\n\n\nHe was present as the owner of the estate Winatahusen in Thale, had\nremoved the wonder-stone, on which the good fortune of the estate\nhangs, and had seen how sixteen horses and hundreds of men had only\nwith difficulty moved it; while the heavens had grown dark, and the\nstorm threatened to destroy the buildings, and only misfortune\nfollowed misfortune, till the stone was restored to the ancient\nconvent estate.\n\nHe had also learned the power of enchantment possessed by the\ndwellers of the caves in the Bodethal.\n\nA dwarf of one cave had often brought him a bundle of healing herbs\nfor his sick mother, and he knew that he always laid healing plants\nready for those who had entreated his help.\n\nBut the angry cobold, who in the form of a green bottle-fly dwelt in\nanother cave, had once nearly thrown him headlong from the rocks as\nhe gathered plants, and he only saved himself by making the sign of\nthe cross three times.\n\nHe had also seen the blue flame in the garden of the Kloster estate\nin Thale, which marked the spot where treasures were hidden.\n\nWhile indulging in these reminiscences a low exclamation from his\ncompanion aroused him from his reverie.\n\nShe grasped him by the arm, and pointed to the ruins.  There, above\nthe tower, rose amid the slender grass, in wonderful beauty, white as\na lily and as graceful, the Flower of the Lauenburg, which had just\nbeen the subject of their conversation and their dreams.\n\nShe seemed to bend her white corolla in greeting, and like a low\nmelody to call down to them, \"Pluck me! pluck me!\"\n\nThe lovers gazed a moment, surprised, at each other; and, as if the\nglance had filled him with enthusiasm, the youth then hastened\nforward, and raised his arm to gather the flower.\n\nAt this moment the serpent head raised itself, terrible to behold;\nthe scales of the coiled body seemed to bristle, and resembled a coat\nof mail; the vicious eyes burned in rage, and the sharp tongue\npointed at them like a poisoned arrow.\n\nTerrified at the sight, he lost his courage, forgot to cross himself,\nand, seizing the hand of the maiden turned to flee.\n\nBut she held him back; she stood lost in thought a moment; then\npressing his hand warmly and glancing toward heaven, she approached\nfearlessly the tower, and stretched forth her hand firmly to pluck\nthe flower.\n\nAnd see! the serpent, though hissing more furiously, drew slowly back\nits head, and as she plucked the flower fled, and at the same moment\nthe whole scene changed.\n\nWhere the flower grew, now stood, sweetly smiling, in swan-white\ngarments, a graceful maiden, who looked kindly on the lovers, and,\npointing to a vault at the base of the tower, in which glittered gold\nand silver vessels of all sorts, stooped and handed one piece after\nanother to the astonished lovers, who took the costly gifts as in a\ndream.\n\nWhen they had all they could carry, she waved the hand in farewell,\nas bidding them to depart, and vanished.\n\n\n\n\nThe White Stag.\n\nLong centuries ago a peculiar appearance attracted the attention of\nthe inhabitants of Dorf Treseburg.\n\nEvery morning stood, high on the summit of the Hagedornberg, which\nrises perpendicular to the banks of the Bode, a White Stag, and gazed\nfixedly below into the valley.\n\nHe stood hours at a time, and had done so over a hundred years,\nwithout any variation or the faintest sign of age.  Wonderful as this\nwas, it was still more remarkable that no one had ever been able to\ncome near him, although various sportsmen had attempted it, not even\nwhen they waited in the early morning on the spot where he was wont\nto appear.\n\nThey waited in vain, and yet at the same time the villagers below had\nseen him as usual.\n\nSo it had come that for a whole generation no one had sought to come\nnear the White Stag.  Hence every one shook the head doubtfully when\none day an herb-gatherer of the village, named Weidemann, declared\nthat he had not only been near the Stag, but that the animal had come\nclose to him, leaned against him, eaten of the plants he carried, and\nfinally had followed him part way down the declivity of the mountain.\n\nThe herb-gatherer, however, was known to be a man of veracity, and\nthey soon became convinced of the truth of his statement; for no\nsooner had he climbed the Hagedorn than the White Stag ran to him,\nand walked trustfully by his side, ate from his hand, and followed\nhis steps.\n\nThis excited all the more surprise inasmuch as the stag avoided\neverybody else.  Weidemann was surprised himself at this confidence,\nwhich grew every day; and it seemed to him, when the stag gazed at\nhim with its clear eyes so winningly, as if it would speak, and only\nlanguage failed.\n\nAt last, he said one day to his wife, \"There is something the matter\nwith the White Stag, and he longs to tell.  If I only could know what\nit is!\"\n\n\"That is not so difficult,\" replied his wife.  \"Just ask old\nFischersche, who will be able to tell thee.\"\n\nFischersche was, according to some, a wise, good old woman, according\nto others a witch, who lived in a hut a little out of the village,\nnever leaving it, alone and without friends, avoiding men and shunned\nby them in return--but only till they got into some trouble; when\nillness or some accident had befallen them, then they sought out old\nFischersche, related their trouble, and found ever help and counsel,\nor herbs and healing draughts, before which every sickness fled.\n\nTo her the herb-gatherer applied, told her what had happened, and\nbegged for an explanation of the matter.\n\nFischersche bent her ice-grey head and remained a while sunk in\nthought.  At length she said: \"It is a wonderful history of the White\nStag; my aged grandmother told it me over a hundred years ago, but I\ncannot now remember it perfectly!  I only know that it is an\nenchanted young noble, the son of an Earl, but how it all hangs\ntogether has escaped me.  But we will soon learn.  I will ask my\nravens.\"\n\nSo saying, she opened the windows of the hut, one towards the north,\nthe other to the south, and murmured a few unintelligible words, and\nuttered one piercing whistle.\n\nSoon the beating of heavy wings was heard, and a hoarse croaking, and\na pair of huge primeval ravens flew down, and sat, one on the north,\none on the south window, and cried:\n\n  \"Kra!  Kra!  Kra--h!\n  Wir sind da!\"\n\nAnd Fishersche addressed them in a loud voice: \"Ye good ravens, ye\nare as old as the Harz and the primeval forests, and ye know all\nthings; hence ye shall tell me the history of the White Stag.\"\n\nThen one raven flapped his wings, nodded with his head, opened his\nbill and cried:\n\n  \"Kra! kra! kra--h!\n  Ich weiss wie es geschah!\"\n\n\n\"The son of an Earl had fallen in love with the daughter of the\nRitter who dwelt ages ago in Schloss Treseburg, and came every day\nand stood on the summit of the Hagedorn, and gazed across to the\nTreseburg, to see if he could catch a glimpse of the maiden, or a\ngreeting from her.\n\n\"It happened once that he met there a noble white stag, and being a\npassionate lover of the chase, he threw his spear, killing the animal\non the spot.\n\n\"Just as he was about to detach the splendid antlers, to hang up in\nhis castle--for a pair of antlers was his coat of arms--the Waldfrau,\nthe powerful queen of the forest and all game, suddenly broke forth\nfrom the underbrush with indignation and wrath, for the dead stag had\nbeen her favourite, and cursed the youth in words of fury:\n\n\"'Thou bloodthirsty man, thou shalt henceforth no more hunt, but be\nhunted; thou shalt be thyself a stag in the place of the one thou\nhast killed, and shalt wander in these preserves centuries long.'\n\n\"And at these words the Earl's son was transformed into that of the\nstag, and that is the White Stag of the Hagedorn.\"\n\nThe raven nodded three times with his head in confirmation of his\ntale, and remained silent.\n\nAnd Fischersche asked further: \"'Say on, raven, who knowest all\nthings, if and how the enchantment may be broken.\"\n\nImmediately the other raven rose, flapped his wings and cried:\n\n  \"Kra!  Kra!  Kra--h!\n  Ja!  Ja!  Ja!\"\n\n\n\"It was a deed of blood!  Blood can break the enchantment.  If a\nhunter who has never shed blood gives him blood that belongs neither\nto man nor beast, and he both drinks and eats it at the same time,\nthe enchantment of the White Stag is broken.\"\n\nFischersche would inquire further, but the ravens both remained\nsilent, shook their heads, spread rustling their wings, and flew\nforth, one up the other down the roaring Bode, to their Hort[1] in\nthe steep rocks of the Bodethal, which still bear the name of the\nRabenstein.[2]\n\n\n[1] Safe retreat in the rocks; usually applied to the eagle.\n\n[2] Ravens' cliffs.\n\n\nWhen the ravens had disappeared, Fischersche sank in deep thought,\nand seemed to forget the presence of Weidemann.\n\n\"That is a dark saying,\" she at length said, breaking the silence,\nand muttered thoughtfully to herself.  \"Just wait, just wait, I begin\nto see through the thing.  How was it, then?  Who can break the\nenchantment?\"\n\n\"A hunter who has never shed blood,\" replied Weidemann.\n\n\"And where may we find such an one?\"\n\n\"Probably nowhere.\"\n\nFischersche looked at him oddly, while a smile flitted over her\nwrinkled face.\n\n\"Tell me, then, hast thou ever shed blood?\"\n\nThe man started at the question.\n\n\"God forbid!\" cried he hastily.  \"How canst thou imagine anything so\ndreadful of me?\"\n\n\"Well, well, I did not mean it so badly.  I know now where I am, and\nlisten well.  Thou thyself canst break the enchantment.  Thou art\ncalled Weidemann,[3] because thy ancestor was ranger to the knights\nof the Treseburg; and dost thou not say thou hast never shed blood?\nSo a Weidemann is found, and it is clear why the White Stag has\napproached thee: he sees in thee his deliverer.\"\n\n\n[3] _Weidemann_, or _Waldemann_, signifies sportsman--hunter--ranger.\n\n\nThe good Weidemann was speechless with astonishment, but doubted not\nthe truth of Fischersche's words.\n\n\"But the blood,\" he said meditatively--\"the blood that I must give\nhim both to eat and drink; the blood that shall neither be of man nor\nbeast--whence shall it come?\"\n\n\"That is thy affair,\" said Fischersche, dryly.  \"That belongs to thy\ndepartment; for if the blood must not belong to the animal, perhaps\nit might be found in the vegetable kingdom.  Reflect upon it thyself.\"\n\nAnd Weidemann leaned his head on his hand in deep thought.\n\nSuddenly his face grew bright, he sprang up and almost fell on the\nneck of old Fischersche.\n\n\"I have it!  I have it!\" he exclaimed joyfully.  \"That is the\nHypericon, or St. John's Wort.  It drops blood on St. John's Eve and\nSt. John's Day, and to-morrow will be St. John's Day, and the flower\ngrows abundantly by my garden fence.\"\n\nAccordingly the next morning he cut a bunch of the St. John's Wort,\nin which at this time all wonder-power lies, and carried it to the\nWhite Stag on the Hagedorn.  The stag sprang impetuously forward to\nmeet him, and hardly had he eaten the plants, when the stag took the\nform of a stately youth, in knightly gold-embroidered doublet,\nstreaming plume in his barret, and baldrick worked in gold and\nantlers.  With beaming countenance and sparkling eyes he embraced the\nastonished Weidemann, and cried: \"Have thanks, thou honest man; thou\nhast released me, and shalt not go unrewarded.  My father, when I\nreturn home, will bestow a rich reward on the deliverer of his son.\nBut tell me.  I see there only ruins, where once a strong castle\nraised its towers.  Who has destroyed it, and where is the radiant\ndaughter of the Treseburg?\"\n\n\"Ah, Herr!\" replied the herb-gatherer sadly, \"so long as I can\nremember, and my parents and grandparents, no castle has stood there,\nand neither knight nor maiden has dwelt in its broken walls.  Dost\nthou, then, not know that long centuries have passed since thy\nenchantment began?\"\n\n\"Centuries?\" cried the young noble in horror.\n\n\"Yes, centuries!\" exclaimed a scorn-laughing voice, and the Waldfrau\nstood before them; \"that is thy punishment for thy criminal deed.\nNow go and seek thy lordly family and thy beloved; thou wilt find\nthem mouldering in the vault of the dead.\n\n\"Thou mayest find rest, now thy enchantment is broken.  But thy\npunishment is not yet at an end.  Every seven years, on this day,\nthou shalt take the form of my slain White Stag for a single day, and\nappear on this spot.\"\n\nWith these words the Waldfrau vanished.\n\nThe youth shuddered, and said, deeply sighing: \"Is it so?  Is my age\nso far in the past?  Then truly I have nothing more to find in life.\nNeither can I find treasures at home to reward thee, honest man.\nThou must be contented with my baldrick, all that I can give thee,\nwith God's blessing.\"\n\nAnd giving him the baldrick, he walked away and was seen no more.\n\nAnd sometimes still, on St. John's Day, the White Stag is seen on the\nHagedorn, gazing with fixed eyes into the peaceful vale.\n\n\n\n\nThe Fisherman of Treseburg.\n\nFrom the windings of the Bode, a huge greenstone rock rises steep and\nrugged, partially overgrown with the _Planta genista_, or wild broom,\nand creeping plants, nearly its entire base being washed by the waves\nof the clear mountain stream.\n\nOn its summit, half hidden by moss and wild thorns, are grey ruins of\na castle, of which no trace of its history is left to us save its\nname--the Treseburg.\n\nAt the foot of this massive rock, on the opposite bank of the Bode,\nstood, nearly two hundred years ago, a small cottage, in which dwelt\na poor but good fisherman, who earned but a scanty subsistence from\nthe fruits of his toil.\n\nAt that time thousands of strangers did not, as now, visit the\nsublime rocky valley, to enjoy its wild and savage grandeur, and its\ntrout and merlins, and the poor man, though naturally of a contented\nmind, often murmured at his poverty.\n\nAlso the romantic situation of his cottage satisfied him no longer,\nand when he looked across the Bode to the mighty rock, and the ruins\non its top, all sorts of foolish and ambitious thoughts crowded his\nmind.\n\nThese reflections were all the more bitter since there was a\ntradition in the village that he himself was a descendant of the\nancient Ritter who once ruled in the Treseburg.\n\nAnd in fancy he pictured the old Schloss in its former state, throned\non the proud rock, with giant round tower, and arched entrance gates,\nand Gothic windows, the battlements covered with soldiers in steel\nharness, with sword and lance.\n\nThus he frequently sat hours at a time by his nets, lost in dreams,\never glancing again across to the wild ruins, and wishing the\nlong-vanished centuries back again.\n\nOnce--it was a St. John's day--he saw a Graum\u00e4nnchen[1] on the other\nside of the stream, who evidently wished to cross, but did not\nventure to wade through, since the waters had risen in the late\nthunderstorm, and there was at that time no bridge.\n\n\n[1] Little grey man.\n\n\nGraum\u00e4nnchen seemed in great embarrassment; this awakened the pity of\nthe fisherman, and he called across that he would come and carry him\nover the water.\n\nHe waded over and did as he had said.\n\nGraum\u00e4nnchen was much pleased at this kindness, thanked the fisherman\nin the warmest terms, and said, \"Thou art a good, obliging man, and\nsince thou hast fulfiled my wish, I could wish that thou also hadst a\nwish or two that I might grant.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" said the fisherman, \"every one has wishes.  I have just one,\nbut it cannot be realized.\"\n\n\"Only one?\" said Graum\u00e4nnchen.  \"I would grant thee willingly two or\nthree.  But what might be thy wish?\"\n\n\"My greatest wish,\" replied the fisherman, \"is to be set back five\nhundred years, in order that, instead of that heap of ruins across\nthere, the Treseburg might raise its proud battlements and tower.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Graum\u00e4nnchen, \"that can easily happen,\" and bade him\nclose his eyes for a minute.  He did so, and on opening them again\ngazed around him in wonder, for there opposite on the dark rock stood\nthe Treseburg, that he had so often seen in ruins.  Really and truly\nthere it stood, with white walls, colossal round tower at the\nentrance, battlements shimmering in the sunlight, and squires\nglittering in steel, with sword and lance.\n\nThe fisherman almost devoured the singular picture with his eyes, and\nin his admiration could not turn away his gaze, till Graum\u00e4nnchen put\nan end to his puzzlement with the question, \"Thy wish is granted; art\nthou satisfied?\"\n\nThe fisherman hesitated, for it seemed to him at the moment as if he\nmight add another wish.  At the same time the immediate fulfilment of\nhis wish appeared to have its shady sides, for the soldiers who stood\non the walls of the castle grew noisy, and called down to him with\nabusive and threatening words, and commanded him at once to bring up\nall the fish and other articles of provision which he had, or his\nlast hour was come.\n\nSome even, as if in joke, bent their cross-bows toward him, and one\npointed iron bolt lodged in the trunk of a rotten tree close by him.\n\nFinally the fisherman replied, \"Yes, the fulfilment of my wish is\ndelightful, and the Treseburg is a right stately Schloss; but I\nshould like, as my ancestors once ruled there, to be transplanted\ninto the position of my ancestor who lived there five hundred years\nago, in exactly the same circumstances.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Graum\u00e4nnchen; \"also this wish can be granted,\" and\nbade him again to shut his eyes.\n\nWhen he opened them he found himself in a spacious hall, its stone\nwalls adorned with armour and arms, and on a massive oak table lay\nalso arms, partly broken, partly covered with fresh blood.\n\nFrom without, a wild deafening noise penetrated to the hall, mingled\nwith loud shouting, sometimes a piercing cry of pain, and the\nclashing of arms.\n\nHe lay himself, in steel armour, on a bench, but one arm was free\nfrom armour, and he felt a burning pain in it, and to his terror he\nobserved a gaping wound, as from the blow of a sword, stretching from\nthe shoulder to the elbow, and the warm blood trickled down.\n\nJust then a door opened, and an old squire entered and said, \"I left\nyou a moment to prepare an ointment for your wound, in order that you\nmay yourself appear on the walls and defend the Schloss.  The danger\nis great, Herr!  Listen!  They are storming again already, and our\nmen are so weak from hunger and thirst, they can scarcely stand.\n\n\"I have obeyed your command, gestrenger Herr--your Lordship--and in\ncase of the worst have buried the treasures in the small vault, three\ntimes seven paces from the tower westward, and three times seven\npaces from the entrance gates to the south.  But hark!  The gates are\nburst in!  We are lost!\"\n\nAnd the old man hastened away.  The transformed fisherman grew dizzy,\nand felt extremely uncomfortable.\n\nBut he had little time for reflection, for the tumult grew louder and\ncame nearer.  The door of the hall was broken in with heavy blows,\nand with loud shouts a troop of men, dripping with blood, rushed in\nand threw themselves in rage upon him, crying: \"We have thee at last,\nthou foul knave! thou who hast robbed and murdered so many.  At last\nthe hour of retribution has come.\"\n\nAnd the leader cried: \"Fasten a rope to the arch of the gates, give\nhim an hour to say his prayers, but in the deepest dungeon, and then\nhang him for a punishment and a warning.\"\n\nAnd strong arms seized him and threw him in the dungeon on damp straw.\n\nThere he lay, and could not for some time collect his thoughts; but\nwhen he came to his full senses a deep sorrow seized him to see what\nhe had brought upon himself through his foolish wish.  Now he must\ndie as a criminal, separated from wife and children, who would never\nknow what had become of him.\n\n\"Ah!\" cried he in anguish.  \"Graum\u00e4nnchen!  Graum\u00e4nnchen! why hast\nthou done this?  If thou hast granted me, fool that I was, two\nwishes, so grant me the third--the only one I have--to return home,\"\nand hot tears rolled down his face.\n\nBut when he had dried his eyes, and opened them again, he drew a long\nbreath, for he lay on the banks of the Bode beside his nets, which\nhad filled with fish; and of Schloss and Ritter was nothing to be\nseen--only the ruins as ever.\n\nGraum\u00e4nnchen stood by him, pressed his hand, and said with friendly\nsmile: \"Willst thou be henceforth contented, or hast thou still\nanother wish?\"\n\n\"_Nein!  Nein!_\" cried the fisherman decidedly, \"I have not a wish\nbut to remain what I am my life long.\"\n\nGraum\u00e4nnchen took his departure with a smile, and the fisherman's\ndreams of castle and knight with him.\n\nFor many years he related only to his wife what had happened, but as\nhe grew old he told the history to his sons, that they might learn\ntherefrom the same lesson as himself.\n\nThey laughed to themselves, and held the whole story for a dream,\nsave one brother, who found something very remarkable in it, and when\nhe had a leisure hour he climbed the rock where the Treseburg had\nstood, observed the direction of the walls and the moat, and removed\nthe moss, underbrush, and thorns.  At last he seemed to have found\nwhat he sought.  One clear moonlight night he mounted with hook and\nshovel to the ruins; there, where once the tower had stood, he\nmeasured three times seven paces to the west from the tower, and the\nsame distance from the gate southward.  Then he began to dig and soon\ncame to a vault.\n\nThe following day the villagers who had gone to gather sticks found a\nvault broken in, and a half-rotten chest open, but empty, and on the\nground around lay scattered gold and silver coins with an unknown\nstamp.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of Volkmarskeller\n\nOn the borders of the wood stand the ruins of the ancient Kloster\nMichaelstein, which we pass, and go up the valley, the brook acting\nas our guide.\n\nIt conducts us first past a number of ponds, which formerly supplied\nthe self-denying monks with carp for their fasts, and now swarm with\nspeckled trout.\n\nLow willows adorn the banks, and bathe their locks in the waves, out\nof which a thick wood of slender reeds springs forth.\n\nNow the vale narrows, magnificent walls of rock rise, and picturesque\nwaterfalls toss themselves down the stream.\n\nSuddenly the forest grows thin; the vale divides itself in two arms,\nand in the dale to the right, we see, close by the red-roofed\nforage-house for game, grey rocks and ruins.\n\nWe ascend this dale, and stand by the ruins of the old church\nMichaelstein, the mother of the later Kloster.\n\nBeneath the ruins extends a wide cave, which gave rise to the\nbuilding of the church.\n\nThis cave served centuries ago as the dwelling-place of a hermit\nnamed Volkmar, and still bears his name.  Others of like mind joined\nthemselves to Volkmar, and thus arose the brotherhood, and the forest\nchurch.\n\nOne can now scarcely trace the site of the walls; fruit-trees run\nwild, and lilacs mark the spot where once the Kloster garden lay, and\nbesides, no trace of a human habitation where once good and holy men\ndwelt in the mountain solitude.\n\nThis spot--this hermitage--was once a renowned shrine, and thousands\nflocked here to seek consolation, for in the cave was a grave where\nwere said to rest the bones of the Virgin Mary.\n\nLet us enter the cave, which has two openings, one to the south-east,\nthe other to the south-west; it is of considerable height and\nbreadth, resembling a subterranean chapel, formed of cross-arches,\nand provided with niches.  Near the west entrance is the far-famed\ntomb of Mary.\n\nThe small forest church could boast the protection of the great of\nthe earth.  Papal bulls gave indulgences for forty days to all who\nprayed at, and brought gifts to, the shrine.\n\nThe Empress Matilda, the wife of Henry the Fowler, endowed it with\nlands, and Kaiser Otto loaded it with favours, so that an enlargement\nbecame necessary, and hence an hour's distance down the valley the\nlarger and more magnificent Kloster was built.\n\nFrom the charter granted by Kaiser Otto, we learn that this cave was\nnot first occupied by Volkmar; but that a hermitess, Liutburga, dwelt\nin it long before.  Romance has brought them together.\n\nVolkmar was a stately knight, and Liutburga the fairest of the\nmaidens of the Harz, and they loved each other.  In her heart lived\nonly his image, and their souls were knit together.\n\nBut the Kaiser challenged his knights to combat against the Wenden,\nwho still clung to heathenism, and refused to recognize Christianity,\nor the authority of the Kaiser.\n\nEvery true knight marched to the conflict, and Volkmar girded on his\nsword, and the scarf that Liutburga had woven for him, and bade\nfarewell to his beloved.\n\nShe stood on the battlements of her castle, and saw him ride away,\nand when she could see him no longer her sighs and tears burst forth.\n\nBefore the image of the Virgin she knelt daily, and prayed for his\nreturn; but her petitions seemed unheeded, for troops of combatants\nreturned from battle, but nowhere could she see the plumed helmet of\nVolkmar, and all were silent and sad at her questioning.\n\nAn inexpressible sorrow seized her, she clad herself in mourning\ngarments, grew paler than the flower that droops before the mighty\nfrost, and refused to be comforted.  She could no longer dwell among\nmen, who understood not her grief, and sought the solitude of the\nforest.\n\nOne day in her solitary ramble she discovered this rocky cave, and\nhere she resolved to retire, and spend the remainder of her days in\ncontemplation and devotion.\n\nBut her sorrow gnawed at her heart, and she sank to the earth like a\ndrooping flower.  The death-angel came, and kissed away her tears.\n\nBut Volkmar was not fallen in battle, but had been only severely\nwounded and taken prisoner by the Wenden, and led away into their\ndeep forests, and it was long before they gave him back his freedom.\n\nHe fled on the wings of love to the castle of Liutburga, and hearing\nof her retirement he penetrated the mountains to seek out the spot.\nAt last he discovered the cave, and his heart was ready to burst with\nbliss.\n\nHe called loudly her name, but no voice answered, only the echo of\nthe mountains.  He climbed the mountain, and reached the entrance to\nthe cave.  There lay Liutburga in the moss.  \"She sleeps!\" he thought.\n\nYes, she slept.  The cheeks were ashy pale, the eye broken, cold and\nstill the lips; she awoke no more at his call.\n\nThe birds of the wood had sung her death-song, and the trees had\nshowered their leaves and blossoms over the still form.\n\nVolkmar returned no more to the world, which had nothing to offer his\nbroken heart.\n\nWhere Liutburga had dwelt in her grief was now his home; the crucifix\nbefore which she had knelt was his sanctuary, and henceforth he\nturned all his thoughts to God, and to the consolation of the\nsorrowing.\n\nThat is the Liutburga of romance.  The Liutburga of history[1] is\nindeed a highly interesting and noble personality, if less poetic.\n\n\n[1] See _History of Blankenburg_.\n\n\nCountess Gisela, of the Harzgau, whose seat was Blankenburg Schloss,\nafter the death of her husband, Earl Unwan, built Kloster Wenthusen,\nand other convents and churches.\n\nOnce on a journey she was overtaken by the darkness, and took refuge\nin a Kloster.\n\nAmong the nuns who welcomed her, one, Liutburga, won her affections,\nand on leaving, Gisela took her home with her.\n\nAfter Gisela's death, Liutburga, with the consent of Bishop\nThiatgrin, of Halberstadt, retired to this cave somewhere between 827\nand 840, in which Bernhard, son of Gisela, built her a cell and a\nchapel.\n\nShe was renowned for sanctity and good works, and endowed with a\nsuperior mind.\n\nA priest of the cathedral of Halberstadt wrote her biography more\nthan a thousand years ago.\n\nWe return to the later Kloster Michaelstein, which is not so rich in\npoetic legends.\n\nNot even a ghostly monk haunts the ruins, nor wanders by moonlight in\nthe venerable cloisters.  But on the mountains that surround the dale\nthe two monks, Hans and Henning, still hold guard.\n\nOnce the Abbot, fearing the attack of an enemy, sent the unfortunate\nbrothers out to watch, with the command not to return till the enemy\napproached.\n\nNo enemy came, and the Abbot forgot to recall the monks.\n\nThey watched conscientiously till they became stone pillars, and\nstand still there.  The face of one, Hans, is of admirable beauty.\n\nThere is a legend that once, when the enemy stormed the gates, St.\nMichael suddenly appeared over the entrance in a flame, with\ncountenance of wrath and drawn sword, at sight of whom every man fled.\n\n\n\n\nReinhilde of the K\u00f6nigsburg.\n\nThe K\u00f6nigsburg stood on the right bank of the Bode, on a mountain not\nfar from Bodfeld.  Originally it belonged to the Saxon Kaisers.  The\nSausenburg was on the left bank of the Bode, about an hour's walk\nfrom Elbingerode.  Of the latter nothing is now left save the hewings\nin the stone masses which formed its foundations.  From the\nbattlements of its tower the hunting castles Bodfeld and K\u00f6nigsburg\ncould be seen.\n\nIn this romantic neighbourhood, in the thick fir forest, stand the\ncrumbling tower and scraps of broken walls of the K\u00f6nigsburg,\novershadowed by the green veil of the wood, moss, ivy, and\nwild-flowers, and the mystic fascination of a time more than a\nthousand years ago.\n\nDesolate stand the ruins of the once imperial hunting seat, the moat\nso thickly overgrown with the buck-thorn that no human foot would\nwillingly attempt to tread it.\n\nA light sighing stirs in the foliage like a ghostly breath from the\nprimeval days.\n\nDost thou remember the time when we listened to the rustling and\nmoaning of the fir-trees, like echoes of the voices of olden times?\nIn our dreams we saw the ancient K\u00f6nigsburg in splendour, heard the\nforest ring with the noise of the hunt, saw the troop of huntsmen\nride back to the castle, among them many a knight, earl, and prince,\nand foremost rode the Kaiser with his blushing daughter Reinhilde.\n\nHow radiant was the royal maiden, her green veil floating on the\nbreeze, her clear eyes gazing fearlessly around her, her sweet face\nsmiling like a bright morning in spring.\n\nThe Kaiser bends to her and whispers in her ear.\n\nWhy do her blushing cheeks turn pale?  What has caused the smile to\nvanish so suddenly from her face, and the tears to rush to her eyes?\n\nShe turns in fear and looks upon her following train.  Why does a\nnoble knightly countenance there also turn pale?\n\nThe Kaiser glances in surprise at his shrinking daughter.\n\n\"Dear little Reinhilde, have I grieved thee?  Hast thou understood\nme?  Two princes beg the honour of thy hand.\"\n\nReinhilde raises her eyes with firmness to his and replies: \"Dear\nfather, forgive, but I do not seek for crowns.  Thou thyself hast not\nhidden from me how heavy is the crown.  Thou hast often told me that\nonly love makes happy; and I have found a love deep and pure, and\ncould shout for joy; a heart, a knightly heart is mine.  Oh! do not\ntear this true and noble heart from mine.\"\n\nThe Kaiser frowns and the anger-vein swells on his brow as he\nreplies: \"Dost thou dare to speak thus to me, thou shameless girl?\nWho is the low knave, the insolent coxcomb, who has dared to raise\nhis eyes to the Kaiser's daughter?  My rage shall crush him; ruin on\nhis head who has robbed me of the joy of my old age--the heart of my\ndaughter.\"\n\nAll stand aghast at the Kaiser's wrath, all save one noble knight,\nwho steps fearlessly forth from the circle, with head proudly raised,\na youth of manly beauty, the blond locks falling on his shoulders,\nthe blue eyes blazing in just indignation, approaches the Kaiser, and\ncries, \"Herr Kaiser, it was not a 'knave.'  At the breach on the\nbloody field thou hast said, 'Brave Werner, thou art my bravest\nhero!'  And thou hast chosen me as companion for thy kingly son.  Oft\nhast thou said to me, 'For Werner's faithfulness where shall I find a\nworthy reward?'  Herr Kaiser, now thou hast the reward; take back the\nword of scorn; listen to the voice of love; make two hearts happy.\"\n\nGently Reinhilde clasps the father's hands; but the anger-vein swells\nhigher on the imperial brow.\n\n\"Throw the traitor in the deepest dungeon in chains!\" he cries; \"and\nthou, whom I disown as daughter, get out of my sight; let me never\nsee thee again!\"\n\nThe Kaiser sets spurs to his steed and rides to the Schloss, the\nattendants bring the unhappy knight to the dungeon, Reinhilde faints\nand sinks from her steed in the grass, and soon no sound is heard\nsave the sighing in the firs.\n\nWith heavy head resting on his arm, the Kaiser sits alone in the\ngreat hall of the K\u00f6nigsburg.\n\nSuddenly he starts wildly to his feet; was that a moan that fell upon\nhis ear?  No, 'tis only the rattle of the hoarse weathercock.  Hark!\nsurely that is a cry of anguish.  He listens in agony.\n\n\"No, no,\" the watcher cries from the tower.  He hears the moaning of\nthe tempest, and rain and hailstones beat against the windows.\n\nIn heartrending tones the Kaiser cries, \"Reinhilde!  It was too hard\nand cruel; a loving word had been better.\"\n\nQuickly he calls his old servant.  \"Alter,[1] bring me my little\ndaughter.\"\n\n\n[1] Old man.\n\n\nThe servant trembles in terror, and tears burst forth.\n\n\"What ails thee, Alter?\" cries the Kaiser.\n\n\"Herr Kaiser, thou knowest thy little daughter is not here!  Thou\nhast disowned her.\"\n\nThe Kaiser stares at him in horror, \"Reinhilde not here?  Since when?\"\n\n\"Herr Kaiser, since yesterday.  She has not returned to the Schloss;\nher steed came back without its rider.  We sent out messengers, but\nnone have found her.\"\n\nThe Kaiser turns pale.\n\n\"And thou hast not told me till now!  Reinhilde, Reinhilde not here?\nMerciful God!  Reinhilde, my child!  Lost in the forest in storm and\ntempest!  Up; ring the alarm!  To horse! to horse!  Let loose the\nhounds in the forest; let the horns resound that my child may know\nthe father calls.  Bring me my steed, I will myself ride forth into\nthe storm.\"\n\nAnd a thousand torches light up the forest, and the echo of a\nthousand voices rings far and wide.  And the Kaiser's voice combats\nwith the storm as he cries, \"Reinhilde!  Reinhilde! my little\ndaughter!\"\n\nAt length despair seizes the father's heart, he throws himself to the\nearth in wild agony, beats his brow and tears his hair, while a troop\nof attendants stand weeping around him.\n\nWith a sudden light in his face, he springs to his feet and exclaims,\n\"Back to the Schloss!  There is one who will find Reinhilde, but that\none pines in the dungeon.  He has loved her like me.  I know his love\nis true; the God of love will be with him; _he_ will find my little\ndaughter.\"  And the Kaiser commands, \"Let Werner be set free!  And\nwhen he finds Reinhilde, she herself shall be his reward; let her be\nhis wife, and he my son!\"\n\n\nIn the dark mountain cave, on the hard, cold ground, kneels the\nsilver-haired hermit Volkmar, and without before the entrance, by the\nimage of the Virgin, Reinhilde, pale and trembling, is kneeling, in\nprayer.  She vows to become the bride of heaven if the Kaiser does\nnot relent.\n\nThe good old man, when she came yesterday telling him all her sorrow,\nreceived her lovingly, and gave her a secure refuge in his peaceful\nretreat.  \"Stay here, my daughter,\" he said; \"hope and trust in God.\"\n\nHark!  The horns are heard, and Volkmar rises hastily from his knees\nand cries, \"Quick, in the cave, Reinhilde, that no one see thee; the\nway leads close by the Virgin's shrine.\"\n\nThe searchers come, and cry, \"God greet thee Volkmar!  Hast thou not\nseen the Kaiser's daughter?\"\n\nAnd Volkmar replies, \"I have only seen a bride of heaven, who is\nresting in the cave.\"\n\nThey ride on, and Volkmar asks the trembling Reinhilde, \"Hast thou\nheard?  They are seeking thee.\"\n\n\"My father has disowned me.  I stand alone.  Only in the Kloster can\nI find a home.\"\n\nAnd now a single man approaches, stops by the entrance, throws\nhimself on his knees before the shrine of the Virgin, and as\nReinhilde hears the voice she trembles and turns pale, for the Kaiser\nit is who prays.\n\nShe exclaims in anguish, \"It is my father, but I do not answer, for\nhe has disowned me his child.  I stand in the world alone.  Only in\nthe Kloster can I find a home.\"\n\nThe Kaiser rides forth with his train, and a knight comes on foot and\nalone, kneels before the shrine and prays, and at the sound of his\nvoice Reinhilde's eye grows bright.\n\nHis prayer ended his voice rings mightily through the forest as he\ncries in love and longing, \"Reinhilde!  Reinhilde!\"\n\nAnd a silvery voice answers, \"Who calls Reinhilde?\"\n\nThe Kaiser, who is yet near, turns in joyful surprise in the\ndirection of the voice.  \"Merciful Heaven!\" he cries, \"hast thou\nheard our earnest petitions?\"\n\nSee!  From the dark cave issues a light form, and a cry of joy\nresounds through the whole forest.  And in a blissful embrace kneel\nbefore the Kaiser Werner and Reinhilde.\n\n\n\n\nThe Twelve Knights in the Sch\u00f6neburg.\n\nAbout a Stunde[1] from Treseburg, up the Bode, lies the picturesque\nfoundry village Attenbrack, the spot where in the old days Schloss\nSch\u00f6neburg looked down from its high, steep mountain seat into the\nvale below.\n\n\n[1] _Stunde_, speaking of distance in Germany, signifies the distance\na man can walk in an hour.  It is about a German mile, which is equal\nto four and seven-tenths of an English mile.\n\n\nOn three sides the mountain rises steep from the Bode, being scarcely\napproachable save from the south side; and in wild confusion lie\nscattered over the mountain sides shapeless heaps of fallen stones,\nthe sole ruins of the once stately castle; of walls and vaulted\nchambers no trace remains.\n\nFrom the south side the height is connected by a narrow tongue of\nland with the vast forests that cover the high table-lands of the\nHarz.\n\nSeldom is the spot trodden by the foot of man, except by some\nbenighted traveller, some inquisitive student of history, and the\npassionate lover of wood and mountain solitude.\n\nMore frequently resounds the tread of the hunter in this lonely spot,\nand of the herdsman, who pastures his cows in the beech forest.\n\nOnce a herdsman stood, on St. John's Day, on the narrow path leading\nto the then not entirely fallen walls, and dreamed of the days of the\npast, of the Burg and its knights, dames, and maidens, and the\ntreasures that were said to lie concealed under the ruins.\n\nThe forest rustled mysteriously, mingled with the dreamy tinkling of\nthe cow-bells.\n\nSuddenly it seemed to him he heard a tumbling noise and loud, merry\nlaughter.  This was wonderful, but what he saw was still more\nastounding.  For, stealing forward and looking over the broken walls,\nhe saw twelve knights in antique costume, who amused themselves with\nthe game of skittles.\n\nThe herdsman was not sure whether he was awake or dreaming.  He\nrubbed his eyes, and looked bewildered around him, but it could be no\nillusion, for there stood the oaks and beeches, every tree of which\nhe knew, there grazed his herd to the music of their jingling bells,\nthe dogs cowering watchfully near, and from the valley could be heard\nthe rattle of the foundry.\n\nHe saw it all clearly, for it was mid-day, and there within the\nmouldering walls the twelve knights played on, and he heard the\nrolling and bouncing of the balls.\n\nBut he had not much time for observation, for the knights caught\nsight of him, and beckoned him to approach.\n\nHe did so with trembling.\n\nThey treated him gruffly and severely, and commanded him to set up\nthe fallen pins, and he was obliged to yield.\n\nPerhaps an hour had passed in this employment, when lo! no ball more\nrolled, and looking up to see the cause of the delay, the knights had\nvanished!\n\nIt was not a dream, for all the pins lay there before him; but\nknowing that his neighbours in Attenbrack would hold him for a\ndreamer without proof, he decided to take the pins home with him.\n\nBut they were so large and heavy, he could not carry them all, so he\ntook only the king.\n\nAll listened incredulously to his tale of the knights and old dress,\nand feared he was not quite right in his head.\n\nThen he drew forth from his pocket the pin, as proof; but it was so\nheavy he could not hold it, and it fell to the ground with a clear\nring; when, lifting it up, it was found to be pure gold.\n\nNo one doubted longer, but all hastened to the ruins to get the other\neight pins; but they were all only of wood--of light Taxus wood.\n\n\n\n\nThe Gegensteine.\n\nIn the midst of the bright landscape opposite Schloss Ballenstedt\nrise the two huge boulders called the Gegensteine, which mark the\neastern termination of the Devil's Wall.\n\nThe taste and passion for the wonderful and mysterious are too strong\nin the human mind to permit of these majestic rocks being without\ntheir Sage.\n\nIn the time long ago, when all this district was covered with dense\nforests, swamps, and morasses, where now ripen the golden corn,\nfruits, and every blessing that crowns the husbandman's toil, and\nwild beasts preyed on the around-lying mountains, evil spirits\npractised their devices in the Gegensteine.\n\nIn the distance one could see during the night, especially at\nmidnight, now fiery balls, now flames of fire rising in the air, and\ncould hear death cries, or the most delightful tones, which the evil\nspirits employed to decoy unwary mortals to destruction.\n\nMany who ridiculed the idea of danger, paying no heed to friendly\nwarnings, forced their way through thorns and thickets to behold the\nmystery, and returned no more.\n\nThey were carried by demons through the air, and one heard their\nmoanings of despair without the power to save them.\n\nOnly he who was consecrated to God could approach the Gegensteine\nunharmed.\n\nOne morning a farmer rode before sunrise from Ballenstedt to\nQuedlinburg, to offer prayers and obtain absolution in the convent\nchurch, only just founded by the Kaiserin Matilda--for in Ballenstedt\nthere was neither church nor pater.\n\nLost in devotional thoughts, hence without fear, he rode quietly\nalong; an irresistible languor seized him and he fell asleep.\n\nThe nag, feeling no longer the hand guiding the reins, turned aside\nto seek for himself a fresh breakfast, stood still, and began to\ngraze.\n\nThe farmer awoke.  He rubbed his eyes in amazement, for he found\nhimself in an unknown spot, in a dark thicket, without road or path;\nall around him towered mighty rocks that almost shut him in.  He\nheard the roaring of water outside, beneath him a raging din, and\nbefore him yawned an awful chasm.\n\nThe farmer had never heard of such a wild and savage scene so near\nhis place of residence, and fancied he had been transplanted through\nenchantment to some distant land.  Anxiously he gazed around him,\nconvinced himself he was not dreaming, for the sun was shining upon\nthe savage rocks, and his nag grazed unconcerned.\n\nThe thought occurred to him he might be in the domains of wicked\nspirits, and a cold shudder ran over him; but he lacked the courage\nto turn back, fearing some monster might follow him.  He was indeed\nin a painful position, for it was out of the question that he should\nremain where he was.\n\nMeanwhile the terrible din and roar had ceased, all grew peaceful,\nthe birds sang joyfully in the sunlight, and all notion of danger\nvanished from his mind.\n\nHe gained confidence as he looked around him to mark the place,\nresolving the next day to bring his wife and children to see it, and\nconvince them that all the tales about the terrors of the Gegensteine\nwere untrue.\n\n\"But what may there be in the cave yonder?\" he thought.\n\nHe would like to know, and now arose a struggle between curiosity and\nfear.\n\n\"I will venture it!\" he cried, dismounted, tied his horse to a tree,\nand went with light steps, as if afraid some one might hear him, over\nthe fallen rocks, and stretched his neck to look into the cave.\n\n\"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!\" he cried, clapping his hands together\nabove his head; \"what do my eyes see?\"  And what did they?\n\nIn the middle of the pit, or cavern, a large brewer's copper, full of\ngold pieces, every one as large as the palm of the hand.\n\nUpon it rested a silver tray with a border of fiery carbuncles, and\nletters and figures in the centre formed of garnets.\n\nBeside the copper lay a new driving-whip, and on the other side lay a\nsavage black bull-dog.\n\nThe farmer stood with crossed arms for at least ten minutes, gazing\nat the immense treasures, thinking what was to be done to secure them\nwithout falling into the power of the savage guard--the dog.\n\nAt last he exclaimed, \"I will attempt it.  I will not take much, but\nI must have the whip!\"\n\nEncouraged, he walked into the cave, his eye always fixed on the dog,\ntill at last he reached the copper; the dog did not move; he plunged\nboth hands into the gold coins, filled his pockets, and with two\nleaps reached his horse, where he sank down overcome with terror and\njoy.\n\nRecovered, he emptied his pockets, counted the glittering coins, and\ndreamed thereby of a happy future.\n\nHis horse neighed and pawed the ground impatiently.\n\n\"Patience, old nag!\" he cried; \"I must have that beautiful whip.\"\nAnd again he descended emboldened into the cave, seized the whip, and\nturned to go, when his eye fell again upon the tempting gold; he\ncould not resist the allurement, and plunged both hands, twice into\nthe copper.\n\nAt the second handful the dog rose and ground his teeth in rage; but\nJacob had lost all fear, and cried, \"Growl away; but one must have\nall good things three times, and I shall take another handful.\"\n\nBut as he did so the eyes of the dog shot fire, an awful groaning and\nnoise, a raging storm, thunder, lightning, with cracking of the\nrocks, broke forth in fury.  The earth trembled, the rocks fell upon\neach other, trees were rent into splinters, torrents burst from the\nrocks, and the heavens enveloped themselves in night and flames.\n\nThe unlucky farmer never knew how he got out of the cave; only, as he\ncame to himself, he remembered having seen the _Gott-sei-bei-uns_[1]\nin the midst of a terrible confusion and fire-rain in giant form,\nsurrounded by a thousand imps, rise out of the pit, holding in one\nclaw the copper with the gold, in the other the tray.\n\n\n[1] _Gott-sei-bei-uns_--\"God be with us.\"  A name given to the devil;\nsince when he appeared in disguise to deceive people, he is said to\nhave used this hypocritical expression.\n\n\nWas he or had he been dreaming?  No, for had he not the whip in his\nhand?\n\nBut the tremendous weight in his pockets weighed him down.  Rejoiced\nto think of his treasure, he dived into his pockets for the gold--and\nwhat did he find?\n\nFor every piece of gold a pebble, as large again, and not one piece\nof gold!\n\nHe stared at the stones, crying and trembling with pain and distress.\n\nStill weeping, he mounted his horse, reached home, sank exhausted,\nlaid himself down in his bed, from which he never rose; and in a\nfortnight he lay in his grave.\n\nSince then the foul fiend has guarded his treasures in the\nGegensteine, and in only one way can the enchantment be broken and\nthe treasure won.\n\nWhen a maiden, born on the ocean, pure as the dawn, comes here alone\nat the midnight hour of Halloween, kneels, and with raised hand calls\nher own name aloud three times, and then entreats the Most High to\nbreak the enchantment, and annihilate the monster in the rocks, they\nshall sink at her prayer, the treasures of gold and gems shall rise\nto the surface, become the maiden's possession, and the hobgoblin\nshall vanish for ever.\n\n\n\n\n  The Three Crystal Goblets and Three Golden\n  Balls of Schloss Falkenstein.\n\nThe Lady von Falkenstein was once summoned by the _Berggeist_[1] to\nattend the Queen of the Gnomes in her extremity.  He conducted her\nthrough long dark subterranean passages to her fairy Majesty; and,\nafter the birth of a son, the Queen presented her with three golden\nballs and three crystal goblets, with the warning to preserve them\nwell, for the fate of the Asseburgs was closely connected with them.\n\n\n[1] Berggeist--spirit of the mountains.\n\n\nThe three golden balls have been unhappily lost, and only two goblets\nremain.\n\nTwo sons of the family, when visiting their widowed mother at\nWallhausen, besought her to permit them to drink out of these\nmysterious goblets, which she imprudently allowed; and as they struck\ntheir glasses together with a merry prosit, one was shattered.\n\nDeep melancholy seized the youths, and during their drive home the\nwild horses plunged with the carriage into a deep abyss, where the\nyouths were found broken in pieces.\n\nSince then the two remaining ghostly gifts have been sacredly\npreserved--one, of green-yellow glass, in Hinneburg; the other, of\nmountain crystal, in Falkenstein.\n\n\n\n\nTidian's H\u00f6hle, or Cave\n\nBelow Schloss Falkenstein, in the valley where the gentle Selke winds\nthrough her flower-strewn paths, the shepherd of the Graf von\nFalkenstein grazed his sheep on the dew-gathering meadows.\n\nIt was the morning of St. John's Day, and every H\u00e4rzer knows that St.\nJohn's Eve and St. John's Day are rich in miracles in these\nmountains, and unfold many a mysterious flower.\n\nNot only at this time is the St. John's wort gathered, which is said\nto bear a red dewdrop at midnight--hence called St. John's blood--and\nto be a sure remedy against every disease; but also the\n_Spring-wursel_, or caper-spurge, which bursts open gates, and even\nopens the earth and the rocks; the magic\nwand--_W\u00fcnschelruthe_--Aaron's rod--which points out the spot where\nburied treasures or the precious metals lie hidden; and the\n_Wunderblume_--marvel of Peru--which opens the eyes of him who is so\nfortunate as to find this wonder-flower, so that he sees sunken or\nenchanted castles, and discovers untold riches in gold, diamonds, and\nrubies.\n\nTidian found a tiny blue flower, attracted to it by its perfume and\nits beauty, which must have been one of these miracle-working plants,\nfor no sooner had he stuck it in his hatband than a never-before-seen\ncave in the side of the mountain opened its splendours to his dazzled\neyes.\n\nHe entered it, his mind full of tales of buried treasures, filled his\npockets with the glittering sand and stones, with the intention of\noffering them for sale to a jeweller in Aschersleben.\n\nThey proved to be more valuable than he had hoped, and the jeweller\nbegged him to sell to no one but himself.\n\nThe fame of this gold speedily spread, and it happened the Graf von\nFalkenstein himself visited the goldsmith, when by chance this gold\nwas spoken of.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the jeweller, \"it is indisputable that Tidian's gold is\nas good again as any other.\"\n\n\"Tidian's gold!\" cried the Earl, surprised.  \"Why do you give it that\nname?\"\n\n\"The man from whom I buy it is Tidian.\"\n\nInstantly it occurred to the Earl that his shepherd Tidian had lately\ngrown rich, and he might be the seller.  His avarice awoke; he\nhastened home, and demanded to know the cause of Tidian's wealth.\n\nTrue of heart, the shepherd told him everything, showed him the\nconcealed way to the cave, and in company they carried away much of\nthe costly treasure; till at last avarice awaked the fear in the mind\nof the Earl that Tidian might at some future time reveal the secret\nto some one else.\n\nThis thought left him no peace.  At length, to make himself secure of\nthe entire wealth of the cave, he put out Tidian's eyes and shut him\nup in the castle dungeon.\n\nThen the Earl hurried alone to the cave; he did not know that the\nflower which Tidian wore in his hat caused the cave to remain open.\n\nThe unhappy shepherd tore the flower in pieces, stamped upon and\ncursed it and the cave, and wished it to close and never again to\nopen until, among the descendants of the Earl, a lame, a dumb, and a\nblind Falkenstein had ruled.\n\nImmediately the cave shut with a thundering noise, and the greedy\nEarl wanders there yet, for the enchantment is not yet broken.\n\n\n\n\nThe M\u00e4gdesprung[1] and M\u00e4gdetrappe.[2]\n\n[1] _M\u00e4gdesprung_--maiden's leap.\n\n[2] _M\u00e4gdetrappe_--maiden's footprint.\n\nIn the valley of the Selke, that fair Undina of the Harz, near\nAlexisbad, rises the majestic rock M\u00e4gdesprung; and opposite, on the\nother bank of the river, the M\u00e4gdetrappe, both of which are so famed\nin fable.\n\nIn the latter rock one sees the impressions of giant feet, and\nRomance attempts to account for them.  She is at least as competent\nto do so as anybody else, A giant virgin of the grey primeval times\nsaw from the M\u00e4gdesprung her lover on a mountain on the opposite bank.\n\nHer ardent love draws her to him, but she cannot climb the steep\nrocks, nor swim the Selke, then a torrent.\n\nSo she dares--for what will not love dare?--to leap over the wide\nspace that divides the two rocks, leaving the impress of her feet in\nthe rock, since called the M\u00e4gdetrappe.\n\nAnother _Sage_ has a totally different motive.\n\nA maiden of the Huns, a disciple of Diana, roaming fearlessly through\nthe vale, hears from the M\u00e4gdesprung a cry of distress.  She\nrecognizes the voice that cries for aid, and her eagle eye perceives\nher friend being dragged away by two mountain robbers.\n\nHer blood boils, and in the anguish of her soul the brave Hun maiden\nleaps the abyss, falls like an avenging angel upon the villainous\nmountaineers, with two blows of her spear pierces them both to the\nheart, and conducts her friend and favourite--for she is said to have\nbeen a Hun Queen--home to her parents.\n\n\n\n\nSage of Schloss Questenberg.[1]\n\n[1] _Questen_--wreaths or garlands of flowers.\n\nThe Ritter Knaught had a lovely little daughter, whose chief pleasure\nwas to gather wild-flowers; for this purpose she went often with her\nnurse into the forest.  But one day her nurse lost sight of her, and\nnot being able to find her, hastened in great terror to the castle to\ngive the alarm.\n\nThe Ritter summons all his retainers with the horn, and they storm\nthrough the forest whole nights and days, but of the lost child no\ntrace.\n\nAt last one day, as the father gazes from the battlements of the\ncastle, he sees people approaching bearing the Maien,[2] hears their\nshouts of joy, and in their midst beholds his lost Rosamund, decked\nas Queen of the May!\n\n\n[2] _Maien_--green branches of the birch used to deck the May-pole,\nand in Thuringia and other parts of Germany the churches at Pentecost.\n\n\nA coaler had met the child wandering through the wood, took her at\nfirst for an angel, and in his hut the retainers had found her.\n\nThe happy father bestowed gifts lavishly, and instituted an annual\n_Volksfest_, and called his castle Questenberg.\n\nTo this day a popular festival is held here, but whether connected\nwith this tradition is uncertain.\n\nThe youths of Agnesdorf have the right, by an ancient statute, of\ndigging up a young oak on the Questenberg;[3] the tree must be\n_carried_, and after it is planted is decorated with wreaths of\nflowers.\n\n\n[3] The custom of digging up the young oak is now limited to once\nevery fifteen years.\n\n\nThey then go in procession to the parsonage, conduct the pastor to\nthe church, when Divine service is held; after which all return in\nprocession to the newly-planted oak, and after all have partaken of\nrefreshments they dance around it, and the youths shoot at the target.\n\n\n\n\nBarbarossa and the Kyffh\u00e4user.\n\nOn this mountain that overlooks the Golden Plain, amid the beech and\noak woods that clothe it, stand the ruins of a square tower built of\nred sandstone, broken walls, and arches of the ancient gateway,\ngables, and the remains of the chapel of the fortress, where the\nfirst Electors and Emperors of Germany held their court.\n\nTradition and romance linger with an irresistible fascination around\nthese lonely ruins.\n\nTradition tells us that Barbarossa never died, but remains enchanted\nin the heart of the Kyffh\u00e4user.\n\nHe sits in an ivory chair by a marble table, his head resting upon\nhis arm, and his long red beard has overgrown the whole table like\nmoss.  He wears the imperial mantle, and the knightly forms of his\nold courtiers, like spectres, come forth from their rocky chambers\nand place upon his aged uncovered head the oldest crown of Germany\nglittering with diamonds.  His innocent daughter is his only\nattendant, or, according to other legends, a dwarf.\n\nThe Kaiser's eyes are closed, but at times he seems to awake from his\nenchanted slumber, and new life seems to animate the stiffened limbs.\nBut he cannot awake, nor rise from his seat, nor leave the enchanted\nchamber until Germany's enemies are fallen and she is free.  He\nseemed about to throw off the enchanted fetters in the days of\nMaximilian, again in Luther's time.\n\nAt the time of the Rhine Treaty, and when the first Napoleon won the\nbrilliant victories of Ulm, Austerlitz, and Jena, the eyes of the old\nRedbeard sparkled with anger and grief, and at his cry of rage,\nlightnings flashed through the dark chambers of the Kyffh\u00e4user,\nthunders rolled through its rocky caverns, and Barbarossa slumbered\nagain till the great victory of the Allies in the \"Battle of the\nNations\"[1] awaked him, and at the death of Napoleon on St. Helena he\nbroke the enchantment, and Napoleon sits in his place.\n\n\n[1] _V\u00f6lkerschlacht_--battle of Leipzig.\n\n\nThere are many versions of this legend.\n\nOne holy day, a miner rambling to the Kyffh\u00e4user, to rest under the\ntrees and indulge in devotional reflections, saw, as he reached the\nruined tower, a monk with a long grey beard, who addressed him,\nsaying, \"Come!  I have long expected thee; thou shalt see the\nenchanted Kaiser.  Graumannel has brought me the _Springwurzel_,[2]\nand I must have a mortal to accompany me; no evil shall befall thee.\"\n\n\n[2] See Tidian's Cave.\n\n\nThe monk leads him to a green spot surrounded with walls, forms with\nthe staff which he carries a circle around him and his companion,\ntakes from his pocket a gold-coloured velvet book, and begins to\nmurmur and read, no word of which the miner understands.\n\nSuddenly there is a terrible clap of thunder.  The mountain cracks,\nthe circle on which they stand becomes loose, and sinks slowly into\nthe mountain; the miner, in terror, clings to the cowl of the monk.\nAt last they reach firm ground.\n\nNow they go through a long dark passage to great brass gates.  The\nmonk touches them with the _Springwurzel_, and immediately they open.\nThey enter an aisle, lighted by a brilliant lamp, and again stand\nbefore a door.\n\nThe monk cries, \"Hephata!\" and the door opens.\n\nThey enter a large, brilliantly lighted, magnificent chapel; the\nwalls are of marble; the altar is of beaten gold, and its eternal\nlamp bathes all in a wondrous light.\n\nThe miner cannot gaze enough at the marvellous sight, crosses and\nrecrosses himself; the monk kneels at the golden altar and says an\nAve Maria.  Then he rises, commands his companion to remain standing\nin the middle of the chapel, and approaches the door opposite the one\nby which they had entered.\n\nAt his mighty word this door opens also.\n\nThe imperial chamber, or throne-room, is brilliantly lighted; on the\nglittering golden throne, in imperial robes, sits Barbarossa, sad and\nsilent.\n\nThe monk approaches the enchanted sovereign and bows reverently.\n\nThe Kaiser returns the greeting graciously, and the monk lifts with\ngreat solemnity some object from the ground, again bows low before\nthe monarch, and retires slowly to the door, seizes the hand of the\nastonished miner, who has gazed as in a dream at the splendour of the\nenchanted chamber, leads him to the green circle, which begins at\nonce to rise, and soon reaches the summit of the mountain.\n\nThe miner draws a long breath, receives two small metal rods from the\nmonk, who exclaims, \"_Gelobt sei Jesus Christ!_\" and before the\nbewildered man can respond, \"_In Ewigkeit!_\" the mysterious monk has\nvanished.\n\n\n\n\nThe Burgfr\u00e4ulein[1] of Osterode.\n\n[1] Burgfr\u00e4ulein--castle fairy.\n\nOne Sunday morning early, a poor linen weaver was walking to Osterode.\n\nAurora showed her gaily laughing and blushing face above the green\nmountains, a balsamic freshness floated over the valleys and streams,\nthe peaks of the woody heights swam in the blue ether, and the\ndew-bathed mountain flowers sparkled in the sun's golden splendour.\nThe songs of the birds rang out of the thickets, and soft chimes rose\nfrom the villages summoning to worship and praise---a mild, blissful\npeace hovered over the entire scene.\n\nIt was long before the wanderer noticed these surrounding beauties of\nthe morning, for a heavy sorrow lay at his heart.  A beloved wife lay\nat home ill, six hungry children waited with her anxiously for his\nreturn, and he must return with empty hands.\n\nHis rich cousin, from whom he had hoped for assistance, had repulsed\nhim with cruel words, and now his future lay dark and hopeless before\nhim.\n\nBut as the sun rose higher, as all Nature bloomed and sent forth her\nfrankincense of praise, and the streams murmured of peace, he grew\nmore composed.\n\n\"How glorious! how wonderful!\" he thought, as he stood still and\ngazed around him; \"and what a mystery it is that only man is so often\nshut out from the universal enjoyment of creation.  Why should he be\ncrushed to the earth, and provide in sorrow and pain for his bodily\nsustenance, while the birds sing and the flowers bloom free from\ncare?  Doth He not clothe the lilies, and give the rose and violet\ntheir perfume and exquisite hues?  Can the Eternal Father care less\nfor an immortal soul?  No, no, never!\"\n\nHe began again to move forward, singing that noblest hymn in the\nGerman language, which has been so perfectly translated by John\nWesley, beginning--\n\n  \"_Befiehl Du Deine Wege._\"[2]\n\n\n[2] \"Commit thou all thy ways.\"\n\n\nWhen he came to the lines--\n\n  \"_Auf! auf!  Gib Deinem Schmerze\n  Und Sorgen gute Nacht.\n  Lass fahren, was das Herze\n  Betr\u00fcbt und traurig macht!_\"--\n\nhe quickened his pace with a firmer tread and lighter heart.\n\nPerhaps he would have sung on to the end of the hymn, had not a\nvoice, clear as a silver bell, greeted him with \"Guten Morgen!\"\n\nThe singer looked in the direction of the voice, and stood like one\ntransfixed at the sight of the vision before him.\n\nOn the banks of the brook which flowed past his path sat a lovely\nmaiden clad in white, and bathed her marble-white feet in the crystal\nwater.\n\nBefore he could recover from his astonishment, the figure rose and\napproached him, saying in a voice of the most delicious melody--\n\n\"Thou sangst just now a beautiful song, that was made for the\ntroubled.  May help be as near every one who sings it as to thee; for\nknow, thou art come at a most happy hour.  It is only permitted me\nonce a year to be at this spot; and whoever meets me here and\ndeserves it as thou, him I make happy--if wealth can make him happy.\nListen, then: when the bells ring midnight, leave thy cottage, and\nclimb the mountain in silence to the ruins of Burg Osterode.  Between\nthe sunken walls thou wilt find a flower; pluck it, and instantly all\nthe treasures of the heart of the mountain will be revealed to thine\neye, from which thou mayst take as much as thou wilt.  Go now thy\nway, and carry comfort and hope to thy wife.  My time is expired.\"\n\nThe slender form, the pale, loving face, transparent as moonlight,\nthe long golden hair, were in a twinkling vanished.\n\nWonderfully cheered, the weaver hastened home and related his vision\nto his suffering wife and little children, and they waited with\nimpatience for the appointed hour.  At last the leaden-footed hours\nhad passed--it was midnight.\n\nThe weaver kissed his wife and hastened forth.  It was a glorious\nnight.  The full moon shone, the quail sang her nightly song.  The\npicturesque ruin contrasted wonderfully in its dark grey masses with\nthe cloudless blue of the heavens and the silver moonlight.\n\nA peculiar light shone out of an arched chamber; he followed it, and\nthere sat the pale maiden, adorned with a wreath of white roses in\nher hair.  She raised her jasper-blue eyes, looked kindly on him, and\nbeckoned him to approach and gather the shining flower.\n\nThe weaver obeyed and tremblingly plucked the lily.\n\nHardly had he the flower in his hand when a fearful, rumbling sound\narose in the heart of the mountain, the ground close to his feet sank\ncrashing into the depths, and a huge cauldron rose in flame, filled\nto the brim with glittering gold pieces.  The maiden bade him take\nwhat he would, for he was so overcome with astonishment and terror\nthat he could not move.\n\nAt her friendly voice he recovered from his fear, filled pockets and\nhat with the coins, bowed low and reverently, left the magic chamber,\nand hurried back to his cottage--and the sun rose on two happy\npeople.  Every anniversary of the day they went to the ruins to thank\nthe fairy, who, however, ever afterward remained invisible.\n\n\n\n\nThe Key Fairy of the G\u00fctersburg\n\nAt midnight, when the moonlight rests on the rustling oaks, or the\nwinter snow glitters and winds howl, there rises a white form from\nthe ruins of this robber Schloss, a wreath of flowers around the\nhead, and in the girdle a bunch of keys.\n\nCenturies ago a convent stood near, and a monk belonging to it,\nlonging to possess some of the treasures of the underworld, was once\nbold enough, as the bells rang midnight, to climb to the spot where\nthe fairy dwelt.\n\nHe used the formula employed to open the gates of the spirit-world,\nand instantly, white as a swan, rose the virgin beautiful to behold.\n\n\"What dost thou desire?\" she asked.\n\nThe monk approached her too boldly, begging for the jewels of the\ndepths, and she gave him such a blow with her keys that he fled in\nterror, and never dared to visit the place again.\n\nSoon after, as a shepherd was feeding his sheep on a meadow near, a\nblooming, quiet maiden came and gathered flowers, which she bound in\na garland; approaching him, and looking kindly at him, she let a\nflower fall.  He picked it up and put it in his hat-band.\n\nThe maiden departed smiling, but beckoned him to follow her.\n\nSoon they reached the summit of the G\u00fcntersburg.\n\nThey entered a subterranean passage, a door opened, and the youth\nbeheld the wonders of the fairy-world.  Gold and precious stones\nglittered in the soft starlight that illuminated the vaulted chambers.\n\n\"Take what thou wilt,\" said the fairy; \"but choose wisely.\"\n\nHe filled his pockets with gold and costly jewels, but in his rapid\nmovements the flower fell from his hat.  He looked around seeking the\ndoor and rushed out, hearing only the words, \"Forget not the most\nbeautiful treasure,\" and never stopped till he had reached the meadow\nand his sheep.  He emptied his pockets of the precious treasures,\nwhen lo! they were worthless stones.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of the Devil's Mill.\n\nThe summit of the Ramberg, or Victor's H\u00f6he, is strewed with gigantic\nruins of the primeval rocks, and is called the Brocken of the\nUnterharz.\n\nTwo huge granite boulders, lying as if they had been placed there by\nhands, are the remains of the Teufelsm\u00fchle.\n\nAt the base of the mountain, in the ages long ago, a miller possessed\na windmill.\n\nBut the mill, an inheritance from his great-great-grandfather, was in\na tumble-down condition, and when the wind blew from the north or\nwest the sweeps stood motionless, for mountain and forest intercepted\nthe \"breath of God.\"\n\nOften the miller had sat on the summit of the mountain, and thought\nhow nice it would be if the mill only stood there in the free, full\nbreeze, with a strong tower, built from the materials that lay\nscattered around in superfluous abundance.\n\nOnce, as he thus sat and mused in the twilight, the bats and owls\njust beginning their nocturnal rounds, a huge, swarthy labourer\nsuddenly appeared before him, greeted him with a _Gott-sei-bei-uns!_\nand told him he would build him a mill, so soon as the miller signed\na promise with blood to be his in thirty years.\n\nWant, avarice, and vanity won the day with their unholy counsel, and\nthe bond was signed.\n\nSuddenly scores of little black figures issued forth from the\ndarkness of the night, and began to work among the rocks; trees were\ncut down with a stroke, chisel and hammer rang on the granite, and\nthe work went forward with a rapidity of enchantment.\n\nThe fear of the miller rose to despair, and as he saw the roof and\nthe huge sweeps set up and finished, and the last millstone rolled to\nits place, he seized it with the power of a deadly terror, threw it\nfrom the rollers with such force, that it rolled down the mountain.\n\nThen the black wings of the arch-fiend unfolded and spread\nthemselves, he soared high in the air, let fall the millstone on the\nmiller, who was buried beneath it and the ruins of the mill, broken\nto atoms.\n\n\n\n\nThe Origin of the Rammelsberg Mine, near Goslar.\n\nThe rich treasures of the Rammelsberg were discovered in 970,\naccording to tradition, by accident.\n\nOtto the Great hunted in the forest.  His squire Ramm dismounted,\ntied his horse to a tree, and went after some game that had been\nshot.  The impatient animal pawed and stamped, and his rider\nreturning, found a glittering piece of silver ore laid bare.\n\nAnother story is, that the discovery was made by a servant girl in\nthe mill at the base of the mountain.\n\nShe rose one morning before daybreak, and went out to gather wood,\nwhen she saw a fire burning on the mountain.  She hurried to the\nspot, and found several men with white beards sitting around it.\n\nApproaching them, she asked permission to take some of the burning\ncoals to kindle her fire.\n\nThey gave no answer, but sat motionless and gazed upon the ground.\n\nAt last she took some coals, saying to herself, \"No answer means\nyes,\" carried them home and laid them on the hearth, but they would\nnot burn.  This she repeated several times, but the coals, once\nthrown on the hearth refused to burn.\n\nAt last it became broad day, and a great heap of gold lay on the\nhearth, and on the spot where she had seen the fire, lay only\npebbles.  Search was made, and the wealth of the mountain discovered.\n\nA similar tradition, with slight variations, is told of the\n_Burgm\u00fchle_, or castle mill, near Aschersleben, on the Wolfsberg.\n\nThe tradition is quite as probable that Askanas, grandson of Noah,\ndied on the Wolfsberg in 1964 after the Creation, having left the\nEast a few centuries previously to escape idolatry.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of the Hoppelberg\n\nMany and mighty tribes, as the Wenden, Katten, and Sassen, once dwelt\nin the Harz.  Bloody battles have been fought for the possession of\nthis district, whose dense forests and impassable valleys afforded\nnot only defence, but the pleasures of the chase.\n\nWe find proofs of their existence here in huge mounds filled with\nhuman skulls and bones, and in the names of some of her villages, as,\nfor example, Dorf Kattenstedt.\n\nThese primeval mountaineers were most disturbed by a wild and\npowerful monastic tribe of giant size and strength, who frequently\nbroke into the mountains, plundered their huts, murdered children,\nwomen, and old men, and led away the strong men into slavery.\n\nSometimes they only came in small numbers, but the terror of their\nname went before them, and caused the inhabitants, despite their\npeculiar bravery, without opposition, to flee into the ravines and\ncaves, while the enemy took possession of all they could lay hands on.\n\nOne called these giant people the Huns.  No other race possessed such\nimmense size and terrible strength.  They were held to be\nunconquerable, and mighty magicians.  Nevertheless, it happened that\nonce when a body of these giants broke into these mountains, the\nbravest of the inhabitants united in defence against them; clad in\nsteel, with shield and spear, they marched to meet the advancing foe.\n\nThe Huns, surprised at opposition, and the sight of the huge weapons\nof the mountaineers, hesitated to begin the attack.\n\nThen the king of the Huns came forward and cried in scorn, \"Do you\nfear these dwarf figures?  Tarry here; I alone will fight their whole\narmy, which extends itself beyond our view.  As the storm-wind breaks\nin pieces the trees of the mountains, so shall these fall before my\nstrong arm.\"\n\nHe seized his lance and battle-axe, hurled his javelin into the\nthickest ranks of the enemy, his arrow to that point where their\nleader stood, and stormed after them down the hill like a rock\nsuddenly broken from the mountain's side, crushing and destroying all\non his way, defending himself against the cloud of arrows that met\nhis advance with his huge shield.\n\nHis followers remained on the summit of the hill, and followed with\nflashing eyes their hero king, that they might be ready to hasten to\nhis aid if in danger.\n\nThe crashing of his sword, as it rent helmet of oak and coat of mail\nresounded above the wild cry of the combatants and the clashing of\nshields.\n\nUnceasing was his way through the ranks, and dying and maimed marked\nhis path.  At last he reached the spot where the commander stood\nsurrounded by his braves, and here his progress was arrested.\n\nStubborn is the conflict, surrounded and shut in, his position seems\nterrible, and the onlooking Huns cry out, \"Shall we hasten to his\naid?\"\n\nAnd others answer, \"No, no, he would be enraged if we deprived him of\nthe glory of being the sole conqueror.  But see! see! the enemy grows\nweak; now he totters, our king wields more quickly more mightily his\narm!  They sink!  They fly!  Victory!  Victory!  Great is the glory\nof our tribe, and of our mighty champion.\"\n\nThey raise the song of triumph and march to meet the royal conqueror,\nwho leans upon his spear, and looks upon his advancing army without\ngoing forward to receive it.\n\nHe gives them a sign; they raise his helmet and loosen the coat of\nmail; and the hero sinks lifeless on his bloody shield.\n\nStrong and deep is the sorrow of his people, and loud are the\nlamentations of woe.\n\nAt length one of the elders of the tribe exclaims, \"Why do we lament\nthe fallen?  Is not death the destiny of all, and is there a more\nglorious death than that of the conqueror in the hour of victory?\nLet us make a grave for our king on the field of his victory, a grave\nthat shall not only receive his ashes, but proclaim his victory to\nthe most distant centuries.\"\n\nAnd they did so.  They made a funeral pile, and laid the victor,\nborne upon his shield, upon it, and the Huns formed a circle around\nthe burning wood and sang the death-song, led by the bards.\n\n\"The people shall see their king no more.  And the halls of his\npalace must remain for ever desolate.  Never again shall the people\nhear his voice, but in their hearts he shall dwell for ever.\"\n\nThe flames grow less, the death-song ceases.  In silence they gather\nthe ashes in the sacred urn, lay the shield on the ground, the urn\nupon it, and his armour above it.\n\nMany lay upon the sacred heap what is held most dear, hunting spear\nor battle-axe.  And now the whole tribe sets hand to the work.\n\n\"We will build,\" they said, \"a grave which neither man can destroy\nnor storms and tempests wash away.\"\n\nAnd they heaped rock on rock, and levelled whole hills to the plain\nto pile up the giant grave to a giant king, and called it the Hero's\nGrave.\n\nAnd that is the _Sargberg_, or Coffin mountain.\n\n\n\n\nThe White Lady.\n\nThe Blankenburg family ghost is called the White Lady.  A portrait\nbearing this name hangs in the castle, said to be a likeness of a\nCountess of Orlam\u00fcnde.  The legend is as follows:\n\nThe Earl Otto von Orlam\u00fcnde died in 1340--several dates are\ngiven--and left a young and beautiful widow, Agnes by name, a duchess\nby birth, and the mother of two little children, a son of three, and\na daughter of two years.\n\nThe widow lived alone in the Plassenburg, and thought often it were\nbetter to marry again.\n\nOne day a remark of the Earl, Albert the Handsome von Nurnberg was\nrepeated to her: \"I would willingly espouse the fair Countess Agnes,\nbut for the four eyes.\"\n\nThe Countess fancied he meant her two children.  Seeing they stood in\nthe way of her marriage, she resolved to free herself of them, and\nengaged a man named Hager, with promises of rich gifts, to murder\nthem.\n\nThe murderer is said to have confessed his crime on the rack.\nAccording to another tale, the Countess murdered them herself by\nsticking pins in their skulls.\n\nHer guilty spirit cannot rest, but wanders in Orlamunde and\nBlankenburg.  Her appearance always betokens death in the family.\n\nFrau Berta is also called the White Lady.  She haunts the imperial\nroyal palaces, and also Darmstadt and Carlsruhe.\n\nAs family ghost she harms no one, greets every one she meets, never\nspeaks, and always wears a white veil and carries a bunch of keys in\nher girdle.\n\n\n\n\nThe Chapel of Roses.\n\nIt was a stormy, dismal winter night, when a teamster drove with a\nheavy load of wine along the almost impassable road near the little\nmountain church of Elend, at the foot of the Brocken.\n\nThe disc of the moon blinked only seldom through the dark clouds,\nwhich, restless, and ever succeeded by new ones, chased each other\nacross the heavens.\n\nA sharp north wind shook the bare branches of the trees that grew\nthick on both sides of the way, blew the snow in the ravines, and\nheaped it to huge snow-drifts, which threatened the traveller\nunacquainted with the locality with danger.\n\nThe wind grew every moment more sharp and cutting, the snow deeper,\nand the difficulty greater for the tired horses to draw their weary\nload.\n\nOften the teamster stood and listened, and gazed into the darkness in\nsearch of some shelter, and called for help, and heard the echoes of\nhis own voice ring deep in the snowy wood, but all remained desolate,\ndumb, and awful.\n\nNo bark of a dog that so rejoices the nightly wanderer, no lowing or\nneighing of friendly stall.\n\nThe silence of death reigned; only now and then the dark wings of\nsome nocturnal bird of prey fluttered over his head, and a ghostly\nrustling was heard among the dry underbrush; the stars seemed like\nsilent, cold eyes looking down on the weary man and horses, the\nclouds scudded silently past, and the snow, too, was silent as a\nspirit.\n\nThe lonely traveller grew more terrified, and urging on his horses,\nthe waggon suddenly sank in a deep place, and no efforts of the tired\nanimals could move it from the spot.  Loud cried the deserted man for\nhelp.  No one heard.  In despair he wrung his hands and besought the\nVirgin to aid him in his distress.\n\nSuddenly he heard a rustling in the thicket, and a female form, like\nthe silver moon when she appears above the peaks of the mountains,\nglided out of the darkness into view, slender as the fir-tree of the\nHarz, rosy as the early dawn, fresh as meadow-dew, beautiful as\neternal youth.\n\nA lustre like a sunset in spring, or an Alpine glow on the eternal\nsnow, floated around the heavenly form, and breathed on the rigid\nsnow masses a soft glimmer like a fairy light.\n\nTerrified, the teamster gazed at the radiant Virgin, who with an\nenchanting, heavenly smile approached the sunken waggon, and with a\nsingle touch drew waggon and horses out of the deep place.\n\nSurprised by the mysterious vision, and cheered by the unexpected\naid, the teamster endeavoured to thank his helper and deliverer, and\nexpressed his regret that he had neither cup nor goblet in which to\noffer her a draught of wine.\n\nAt these words the strange apparition touched a shrub that stretched\nforth its dried, thorny branches, when instantly leaves and buds\nburst forth, and soon the whole shrub was loaded with most beautiful\nroses, that breathed forth a wondrous and unwonted perfume.\n\nThe Virgin Mary, for it was she herself, broke off clusters of the\nroses and formed a drinking-cup, and as the teamster would return it\nfilled with wine, the vision had vanished.\n\nMeanwhile the horses had gone on with the waggon, which they now drew\nwith perfect ease, but stood still before the chapel of Elend, and\ncould not be brought from the spot.\n\nThe teamster entered with reverence the oratorium, to thank the\nAlmighty for his deliverance, when lo! he recognized in the figure of\nthe Virgin his deliverer, and placed the rose drinking-cup as a\ncostly relic before her shrine.\n\nWith amazing rapidity the fame of the miracle of the Church of Roses\nspread over Germany, and it became one of the most frequented and\nsacred shrines.\n\nThe original of the rose-cup was sent to Rome; but first an exact\ncopy of it was made in clay and preserved in Elend.\n\nThe most wonderful miracles continued to be performed; the devotees\nswarmed to the mountain church, so that it was enlarged, and seven\ndoors were cut in its walls.\n\n\n\n\nPrincess Ilse\n\nThe beautiful Princess Ilse, daughter of King Ilsing of Schloss\nIlsenburg, having ridden to the chase with her royal father, and her\nlover the Ritter Ralf, lost her way on the wild mountains, and came\nat nightfall to the gates of the fairy world, over which the Fairy\nQueen of the mountains rules.  The Queen met her with kindness, and\ninvited her to enter her gorgeous crystal palace.\n\nHesitating and with fear she followed the powerful sovereign; gnomes\nand cobolds attended everywhere with homage.\n\nBeautiful Ilse tarried a whole year in the richly adorned\nsubterranean world, witnessed the mysterious government, policy, and\nlife of the fairies, the creations and destructions by the king of\nthe giants, the hostile relations of the Fairy Queen to the Giant\nKing, the unhappy loves of her children Rumar and Romar, and what she\ncould not understand the amiable Queen explained to her, and\nintroduced her fully to the fairy world.\n\nBut all the splendour and glory of this fairy realm could not still\nIlse's longing for her beloved Ralf, and the light of the upper world.\n\nShe demanded her return, which her fairy Majesty granted, but\nthreatened her with destruction, should she ever reveal to mortal\nwhat she had seen.\n\nPrincess Ilse returned to the friendly light of day and rejoiced in\nthe fidelity of her lover.\n\nBut he threatened her with the loss of his love if she did not tell\nhim where she had been so long a time, and what she had seen.\n\nThe two lovers seated themselves on the soft moss.  Ilse laid her\nlovely head upon Ralf's breast, and gazed up into his face with her\nwonderful and faithful eyes; Ralf laid his hand upon her shoulder,\nand beautiful Ilse began her tale.\n\nWith caresses she betrayed the secrets entrusted to her, and\ndescribed the magnificence of the Fairy Queen.\n\nThe new moon rose and the stars appeared one after another in the\ndark-blue heavens; fair Ilse chatted on, related the legends of the\nHarz--of the giants and dwarfs.\n\nRalf listened at first in silent astonishment, and hung enraptured on\nthe tales from her beautiful lips, then he began to dream and fancy,\nand at last fell asleep.\n\nIn the grey of the morning, as he awoke, he heard still the murmuring\ntones of the Princess, and as he turned to salute the princely\nmaiden, he saw, instead of Ilse, a crystal-clear bubbling spring\nilluminated with the dawn.\n\nThe water sprang gaily out of the soft moss, and murmured ever in a\nthousand leaps and tiny waterfalls over the moss-grown rocks adown\nthe vale.\n\nDeepest despair seized Ralf's spirit; he knew now what he had done,\nand what had become of Ilse through her betrayed secret, a clear pure\nstream doomed for ever to ripple and murmur through the mountains.\n\nRalf built a cottage near the spring, and when the new moon rose Ilse\nawaited him by the mossy bank, leaned her head caressingly on his\nbreast, and he heard her sweet prattle till the blushing dawn spread\nher radiance over the silver ripplets, and then the fairy virgin\nvanished in the blue air.\n\n\n\n\nPrincess Ilse and the Deluge\n\nPrincess Ilse, says another legend, in order to escape the general\ndeluge, fled with her lover to the Brocken.  But before they had\nreached that witch-haunted mountain, and just when standing on the\nrocky wall connecting the Ilsenstein with the Westerberg, the rock on\nwhich they stood was rent asunder in order to separate the lovers,\nwhereupon they both leaped together into the floods.\n\n\n\n\nThe Ilsenstein\n\nThis lordly cliff and the Westerberg were once connected, it is said,\nby a granite wall, which was rent asunder by flood and storm from the\nBrocken; and according to one legend, Princess Ilse issues from the\nrock at dawn, when the weather is mild, robed in white satin, her\nlong golden hair floating around her like a veil, a diadem of\nmountain crystal adorning her regal brow, lays aside her costly\narray, bathes in the crystal stream, and combs her golden hair.\n\nWhoever is so happy as to meet her at the right moment, she calls\nwith friendly voice, takes him by the hand and leads him before the\nIlsenstein, which at her command opens, when she conducts him to her\npalace in the heart of the mighty rock.\n\nThere the most unheard-of splendour rivets his astonished gaze; the\nfloors, walls, and ceilings glitter with gold, silver, and precious\nstones; the lofty arches are supported by columns of mountain\ncrystal; while carbuncles illuminate the vast chambers with a soft\nlight.\n\nIn the most magnificent of these chambers will the happy mortal find\nthe most delightful entertainment; and when a youth, pure, and free\nfrom all guilt, bathes in the Ilse at the same time as the Princess,\nshe will be free from the enchantment.\n\nWhoever approaches her with impure heart, she sprinkles with water,\nand instantly he turns into a fir tree.\n\n  \"_Es stehen der Tannen gar viele\n  In ihres Bades N\u00e4h,\n  Es hat sie alle verzaubert\n  Die keusche Wasserfee!_\"\n\n  \"And many a fir tree's deepest shade\n  Falls o'er the crystal stream;\n  Enchanted by the pure mermaid,\n  Their fate to moan they seem.\"\n\n\n\n\nA Dream under Princes Ilse's Firs.\n\nIt was during the heat of August, when my friend Josephine and I sat\nlong chatting on a moss-grown stone under Princess Ilse's dark\nevergreens.\n\nFinally she went to gather some ferns and wild-flowers, and I fell\nasleep.\n\nThen I heard a deep voice above me say, \"I am Castiglione the\nmagician.  I approached the Princess Ilse with the guilt of falsehood\non my soul, and she transformed me into the fir against which you are\nleaning.  If she would only break the enchantment, and set me free, I\nwould lead an honest, truthful life.  Plead with her to release me.\"\n\n\"How can I do that?\" I asked.  \"I never expect to see the Princess.\"\n\n\"Oh yes, you will.  You will see her to-day.\"\n\nAnother voice joined in--\"I am Booth, of Lincoln renown.  People\nnever knew what became of me.  I came here to the Harz mountains,\nhoping to find favour with the noble Ilse after my heroic deed in\nfreeing my country from a tyrant; but the Princess called my act\nmurder, and I have been a sighing fir tree ever since.\"\n\n\"And you deserve it,\" cried Castiglione.\n\n\"Pull the beam out of your own eye, please,\" replied the infuriated\nBooth.  \"You dare to reproach me, you, who did not hesitate to add\nthe last drop of an infant's blood to make your elixir of life?  What\ninsolence!\"\n\nI felt sure they would come to blows right over my head.  Happily a\nmelodious voice struck in, and interrupted the quarrel.\n\n\"I am Don Carlos, the unhappy son of Philip of Spain, and the victim\nof priestly bigotry.  The Inquisitors gained my royal father's\npermission to make away with me, a son who loved him truly.\n\n\"I escaped, and History does not tell what became of me, simply\nbecause she does not know.  I fled here to Princess Ilse for refuge,\nbut I approached her at an unfavourable moment, and she transformed\nme into this spruce.  If I could only be set free I would carry out\nmy ideas of freedom.\"\n\n\"You are too late, my young friend,\" cried Castiglione.  \"Your ideas\nhave been carried out.  You don't seem to have kept up with the\nhistory of events.  Bismarck has set the Germans free, and cleansed\nthe moral atmosphere of the whole empire, sent the Jesuits adrift,\nand put a bayonet into the hands of every eighty men in a hundred to\nkeep them out.\"\n\nHere a deep sigh was heard.\n\n\"Oh, I am tired with standing so long!  Walking isn't half so\nfatiguing.  Oh, how my back aches!\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" cried Castiglione.\n\n\"I am the Wandering Jew.  They keep up the story of my wanderings,\nbut I have stood here in this tree for ages, shivering or roasting.\"\n\nI felt quite bewildered, and almost afraid in the midst of this odd\n_Gesellschaft_, and shuddered as I thought more dreadful additions\nwould speedily be made to it.\n\nSuddenly a radiant form stood before me.  Such beauty no mortal eye\never beheld outside of a dream.  It was the Princess Ilse.  Her long\ngolden curls fell nearly to her feet, over a silvery-like robe almost\ntransparent.\n\nHer eyes were deep violet with an expression none could describe.\n\nAbove her milk-white regal brow glittered a diadem of brilliants and\nsapphires.  Bracelets and rings of diamonds and pearls adorned her\nfair arms.\n\nExtending her swan-white hand, with a ravishing smile, she said,\n\"Come, I will show thee my home, my palace, and thou shalt dine with\nme.\"\n\nWe entered the Ilsenstein under a gigantic arch of mountain crystal;\na group of white-robed maidens met us, and attended us to the great\nthrone-room.\n\nThis was an immense chamber, lighted by a chandelier of brilliants\nhung in the centre, and single lamp-shaped rubies and carbuncles hung\nalong the sides and in the corners.\n\nThe floor was of white and red roses, which were not crushed by the\ntread, but remained ever in rich fulness.\n\nOn each side of this regal chamber were sixteen colossal Norman\narches, through which one saw, on the right advancing up it, a garden\nof every sort of fruit-tree, all bearing ripe fruits.\n\nAt the left, flowers of every clime.  Fountains played, white-robed\nmaidens moved among the fruit and flowers, or reclined on banks of\nviolets and roses.\n\nSoft music floated around us.  Between each arch was a seat.  Every\nseat was a bank of flowers, each different from the other.\n\nAbove each seat was a statue of a fairy of the Harz, alternately in\nmountain crystal and snowy alabaster.\n\nAt the upper end, under a majestic arch, stood Princess Ilse's throne.\n\nThe throne was one ruby, the canopy a single pearl, the steps leading\nup to the throne were emeralds.\n\nNear the throne, in front of an arch, stood a table of silver, and\ntwo chairs of mountain crystal beside it.\n\nThe service was of gold, filled with the viands of the fairy world,\nand the choicest fruits and flowers.\n\nA group of fair maidens sat in a rose arbour playing harp, lute, and\nharpsichord, while others stood by the table in attendance.\n\nA pearl plate was handed us, and Princess Ilse herself poured the\ncrimson wine into gilded crystal goblets bearing her monogram in\ndiamonds and sapphires, touched her glass to mine, and saying, \"I\ndrink to thy happiness,\" she pressed her own glass to my lips, when\nlo! I awoke, and there stood Josephine, poking a fern in my face.\n\n\"Oh, Josie!\" I exclaimed, \"you can never know of how much you have\nrobbed me with that stupid fern!\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Red-haired Trude\n\nAt a time when very few men lived upon the earth, when towns and\nvillages were few and very widely separated, when there were no roads\nin the mountains, and before Romulus and Remus were rescued by the\nmotherly wolf on the yellow Tiber, or Nausikaa fell in love with\nOdysseus, there stood a house on the site of Schloss Ilsenburg,\ninhabited by a widow and her daughter Trude.\n\nDeeper in among the mountains stood an old stone Schloss, on the\ngranite wall connecting the Ilsenstein and the opposite-lying\nWesterberg, which had been bought, and was inhabited by a father and\nhis fair daughter Ilse.\n\nNobody knew who the father was, but it was supposed--as people do in\nmany cases--that he was some fallen and deposed Prince.\n\nDuring the absence of the Prince and Princess Ilse on a journey, a\nstranger, handsome and gay, without money, sack, or scrip, but rich\nin self-confidence and flattering words, sought hospitality of the\nwidow and her daughter, and was warmly received and entertained.\n\nRalf \"fell in love\" with Trude, and a blissful summer was spent\ngathering wild fruits and flowers and hunting birds' nests among the\nmountains.\n\nThe nuptials were near, and the widow was busy with the bride's\ntrousseau, when unexpectedly with Autumn arrived the foreign Prince\nand fair Ilse from their mysterious journey.\n\nRitter Ralf, it must be confessed, was very naughty.  With an\neagle-eye he perceived the radiant charms of Princess Ilse, and poor\nTrude was forsaken.\n\nThe widow reproached him with his perfidy, but he replied, \"The eagle\nmates but with the eagle, and though I have fled from a severe\nfather, I am of noble blood, and have found a Braut of my own rank.\"\n\nThe widow swore revenge, and consoled the weeping Trude, begging her\nonly to wait till Walpurgisnacht[1] and her perfidious lover should\nbe punished.\n\n\n[1] Night before the first of May, when all evil spirits and witches,\naccording to the legend, meet on the Brocken.  See Goethe's \"Faust.\"\n\n\nShe made a league with the evil spirits of the mountains and the air,\nand devoted herself to the unholy arts of a witch.\n\nWalpurgisnacht arrived, the widow stood on the balcony of her house\nand invoked the demons and witches, who swept through the night,\nwhich rested black as destruction on the mountains, heavy as the day\nof wrath and vengeance.\n\nFrom the Brocken broke a terrible tempest.  Awful thunders rolled,\nlightnings in fiery serpents cut their way through the heavens and\nmountains, and a tremendous flood swept down from the Brocken,\ndestroying all in its course.\n\nThe coalers clung to the rocky walls, but Princess Ilse looked calmly\non the wild scene, saw the rocks rent on which her father's castle\nstood, and it, her lover, father, and servants all swept away; and as\nshe too was about to perish, a tall manly form, with majestic head\nand black locks--probably the Fairy King--seized her in his strong\narms, wrapped her in a white mantle, and vanished.\n\nPoor Trude, from the balcony by her mother's side, saw her faithless\nRalf carried down the torrent, threw herself over after him, and when\nthe flood had subsided the widow found them in each other's arms,\nwashed up on the banks of the river.\n\n\n\n\nThe Wild Huntsman.\n\nEarl Eberhard von Wurtemberg rode one day alone into the forest to\namuse himself with the chase.  Suddenly he heard a loud roar and\nnoise, as of a hunter riding furiously past; he was terrified,\ndismounted in haste from his horse, and approaching a tree, as if for\ndefence, cried aloud to the imagined huntsman, asking if he intended\nviolence.\n\n\"No,\" replied the now visible form of the hunter, \"I am a man like\nthyself, and stand before thee quite alone.  I too was formerly a\nnoble.\n\n\"I found such pleasure in the chase, that I besought God to permit me\nto hunt until the judgment-day.  Unhappily my sinful wish was\ngranted, and for four hundred and fifty years I have hunted the same\ndeer.  But my race and name are known to no one.\"\n\nThereupon the ghostly hunter vanished.\n\nHans von Hackelberg, a master of the hunt in Brunswick, had an\nunhappy dream one night on the Harzburg; it seemed to him in his\ndream as if he struggled with a huge wild boar which conquered him\nafter a long combat, and that he died of his wounds.\n\nHe could not drive this terrible dream from his mind.  Shortly after\nhe encountered a boar in the Harz similar to the one in his dream.\nHe attacked him; the struggle remained long undecided; at length Hans\nconquered and slew the animal.  Rejoiced to see the boar stretched at\nhis feet, he kicked the tusk with violence, exclaiming, \"Thou shalt\nnot yet kill me!\"\n\nBut he had struck with such force that the sharp tooth pierced his\nboot and wounded his foot.\n\nAt first Hackelberg paid no attention to the wound, but continued the\nchase.  On his return, however, the foot was so swollen, that the\nboot had to be cut off.  He hastened back to Wolfenb\u00fcttel, but the\nvehicle shook the foot so that he was obliged to stop on the way at\nW\u00fclperode, where he died.\n\nBefore his death he expressed a wish that he might hunt for ever, and\nhis rash desire was granted.\n\nThe Tut-Osel, or Tut-Ursel, always accompanies him.\n\nAt midnight, when in storm and rain, Hackelberg with horse and dogs\ntears through the Thuringian Forest, the Harz, and the Hackel Forest,\nthe night or death owl flies before him, which the people call the\nTut-Osel.\n\nThe wanderer, when he hears the ghostly hunt, listens in terror to\nthe barking of dogs, and hears the hu! hu! of the chase, and the uhu\nof the death-owl.\n\nIn a Kloster in Thuringia lived, in the primeval days of convents, a\nnun called Ursel--Ursula--who always disturbed the choir of nuns by\nher howling singing; hence she was called Tut-Ursel.  But after her\ndeath she disturbed them even more than in her lifetime, for at\neleven every evening she poked her head through a hole in the church\ntower and _tooted_ dreadfully, and every morning at four she joined\nher voice in the matin-song.\n\nFor some days the holy sisters bore this lamentable disturbance; but\nat last one morning one of the nuns whispered in fear to her\nneighbour, \"That is certainly the Ursel!\"\n\nInstantly the music ceased, their hair rose to mountains, and the\nnuns rushed out of the church screaming: \"Tut-Ursel!  Tut-Ursel!\"\nAnd no punishment could induce a single nun to enter the church again\nuntil a Capuchin monk from a monastery on the Danube, noted for his\nsanctity, was summoned.\n\nHe condemned Tut-Ursel to banishment in the Harz, and to bear the\nform of a death-owl.\n\nHere she encountered Hackelberg, and found as much delight in the hu,\nhu! of his eternal hunt as he in her uhu! and so they hunt for ever\nin company.\n\nAnother story is that the screech-owl is a nun who was false to her\nvows, and left her convent to follow Hackelberg.\n\nThe origin of this legend belongs to the ancient pagan days.  It is\neven disputed that a person called Hackelberg existed, and if so, the\nlegend is ages older than the sixteenth century, the time when he is\nsaid to have lived.\n\nThe Wild Hunter, the Wanderer, was Wodan himself in the pagan days.\n\nAt the introduction of Christianity we find a new development of the\nancient myths.  Wodan becomes the foul fiend, then the godless\nHunter, and the Wandering Jew.  In the Black Forest the eternal\nHunter and the eternal Jew are regarded as the same person.  They\nboth always carry a groschen in the pocket.  In some parts of Germany\nthe harrows are placed in the fields with the teeth together, that\nthe wanderer may rest himself.  According to some authorities, he may\nonly rest Christmas night, and then only when he finds a plough in\nthe field; only on that may he sit down.\n\nEvery seven years the Huntsman passes over the seven mining towns of\nthe Harz, and woe to him who calls after him.\n\nAccording to one legend, the Wild Huntsman met Christ at a river\nwhere He sought to quench His thirst, and would not permit Him to\ndrink; he also drove Him from a cattle trough, and when the Saviour\nfound water in a horse's foot-print, and would drink there, he drove\nHim away.  As a punishment, he is doomed to wander for ever, and eat\nonly horse-flesh.  This is the pagan legend Christianized.  In West\nand South Germany we find the Wild Army.  Odin, or Wodan, was the\ngod, too, of armies, and always went out from Walhalla at the head of\nhis ghostly array, while his nine Walk\u00fcren conducted the fallen\nheroes back to Walhalla.\n\n\n\n\nThe Origin of the Philippine.\n\nOnce, long centuries ago, a Princess lived in Schloss Hohenstein who\nwas very fond of almonds, but was firmly resolved never to marry, so\nshe invented the following plan.\n\nShe caused every prince who came a-wooing--and her suitors were\ncountless--to eat the half of a double almond, and she ate its twin\nhalf.  And then she said, \"If you can induce me to take anything from\nyour hand without saying \"_J'y pense_,\" I am ready for marriage with\nyou; but if, on the other hand, I can lead you to receive any object\nfrom my hand without your repeating those saving words, you shall\nhave your head shaved, and forthwith leave my dominions.\"\n\nBut there was a trick in the stipulation, namely, the etiquette of\nthe royal court forbade any person, on pain of death, to hand\nanything direct to the Princess, but rather to the lady-in-waiting,\nwho presented it to her mistress.\n\nBut if the Kaiser's daughter chose herself to hand any one anything,\nwho was there to forbid it?\n\nThus it was for the luckless wooers a bitter sport, for let them\nexert themselves as they would to beguile the royal maiden into\ntaking anything from their hands, the inevitable lady-in-waiting\nspoiled their sport.\n\nBut when Princess Huldigunde determined to get rid of a certain\nadorer, she grew so engaging that he became perfectly enchanted, and\nas he sat beside her, intoxicated with joy, she seized either a\npomegranate, or an egg near her, and handed it to him, saying softly,\n\"Keep that as a souvenir.\"\n\nAs soon as the wooer took the object, it sprang open, and a frog, or\na hornet, or bat flew into his hair or face, and in his fright he\nforgot to say, \"_J'y pense!_\"  And then he was shaved on the spot,\nand away with him.\n\nThis went on for years, and in all kings' houses princes wore wigs.\nIt happened at last that a foreign prince saw Huldigunde, and found\nher fair, and saw through the trick.\n\nA friendly fairy had given him an apple, which he was to smell once a\nyear, when a prudent idea should occur to him.\n\nJust at the time when he first saw Huldigunde, it was time to smell\nthe apple; he smelt, and it occurred to him that if he would win the\ngame through give and take, he must neither give himself nor take\nanything from her.\n\nHe caused his hands to be bound to his girdle, went with his marshal\nto court, and declared his wish to eat almonds.\n\nHuldigunde liked this Prince, and commanded almonds to be handed him.\nThen his marshal took them and put them in his mouth.\n\nThe Princess inquired why he carried his hands in his girdle.\n\nHe replied that the etiquette of his court was still more severe than\nat hers; it was not permitted him to take anything with his hands,\nonly with his feet or head.\n\n\"In that way,\" cried Huldigunde, \"we shall never settle the game.\"\n\nPrince Otto only shrugged his shoulder, and replied, \"Only when you\ngraciously condescend to take something from my boots.\"\n\nAnd the court stood aghast at the bold idea.\n\n\"Why did you come to Schloss Hohenstein with such a stupid\netiquette?\" cried the Almond Princess.\n\n\"Because you are so beautiful,\" cried Otto; \"and, if I cannot win you\nI can look at you.\"\n\nSo Otto remained at the castle, and Huldigunde liked him better every\nday.  She tried daily to beguile him into setting a hand free with\nofferings of fruit, flowers, even her bracelet, but Otto nodded to\nhis marshal, who received them.\n\nThen she dropped her handkerchief; but Otto lifted it with the toe of\nhis boot, and swung it carelessly to and fro, and she stooped and\ntook it from his boot.\n\nSo a whole year passed away, and the Princess said to herself, \"An\nend must be made of this matter.\"  So she told Otto she had the best\ngarden in the world, and proposed to show it to him the next day.\n\nIt was time for the Prince to smell the apple again, and a brilliant\nidea came to him.\n\nAs they entered the garden, Otto exclaimed, \"It is wonderfully\nbeautiful here; and in order that we may accompany each other without\nany disturbing element, I pray my Princess to adopt the etiquette of\nmy court, and permit her hands to be bound one hour; then we shall\nboth be secure, and nothing disagreeable can happen to either of us.\"\n\nHuldigunde consented, and they walked side by side with their hands\nbound.\n\nThe birds sang, the sun shone warm and clear, and from the trees the\nred cherries hung down to their cheeks.\n\nHuldigunde looked wishfully at the ripe fruit and cried, \"What a pity\nyou cannot pluck me any.\"\n\nBut Otto replied, \"Want knows no law,\" took a cherry in his mouth and\noffered it to her.  The Princess could only put her mouth to his to\ntake the cherry, and when she had the fruit between her lips--and his\nkiss with it--could not at the moment say, \"_J'y pense_.\"\n\nAnd Otto cried, \"Good morning, Philippine!\" drew his hands from his\ngirdle, and threw them around her her neck.\n\n\n\n\nGraf Arno's Capture.\n\nArno, the wildest and most powerful robber knight of the Harz, dwelt\nsecurely enthroned in his strong Burg, the Arnstein, which lay on the\nFelsberg like an eagle's nest, from whose strong walls the old eagle\nflew daily forth for robbery and murder.  He and his castle were\ninaccessible; frequently, when the inhabitants of the neighbourhood\nhad united to storm his nest, he had sent them home with bleeding\nheads, and each time punished them by making worse disturbance than\nbefore.\n\nThe citizens of the near-situated Aschersleben suffered most by these\nraids; for when in the sweat of the brow they had cultivated their\nfields, and rejoiced in view of the approaching harvest, Arno would\nswoop down like a bird of prey, and gather the rich grains and fruits\ninto his barns; and when the wealthy merchants of Magdeburg,\nAscherslebeh, and Nordhausen, reckoning how they could make what was\nworth fifty per cent. bring a hundred, travelled past, he took pity\non their problem-solving souls, and relieved their weary brains of\nthe difficult calculations and the burden of sales by carrying off\ntheir goods to his castle--sometimes, indeed, the merchants\nthemselves, whose friends redeemed them with heavy sums.\n\nOften he kidnapped maidens, and it was not at all unwelcome to him,\nas one day, while he lay in vain in wait for booty, a troop of young\ngirls showed itself near the wood where he lay hidden.\n\nIt was then, and is still in some Harz villages, the custom on the\nwedding-day of a youthful pair to lead the bride out upon a mountain\nor a meadow, where her friends seek to take from her the bridal\nwreath.  Dancing and singing they follow the fleeing bride, who\nstrives to keep her treasure as long as possible, hides behind hedges\nand underbrush, till at last they rob her of her wreath and carry it\nin triumph to the bridegroom.  It was such a bridal party that issued\nthis day from the gates of Aschersleben, to enjoy the fun after the\nfashion of their ancestors, for the fairest flower of Askania, Ida, a\nmerchant's daughter, celebrated her wedding.\n\nHow her bridal veil and ribbons fluttered and shimmered in the wind\nand sun, as she in the joy of her heart, light of foot as a fawn,\nflew over the meadow, pursued by her laughing companions.\n\nShouts of merriment and scraps of song rang over the laughing\nlandscape to the wood where Arno lay concealed, watching the charming\nscene.\n\n\"Little maiden!\" thought he, \"if no train of waggons comes that I\nprefer, I can take thee; that is not difficult, and costs no blood.\"\n\nAnd as the train came near, and the bride, ever in advance, would\nhide in the thicket, he seized her and bore her pitilessly away.  The\nother maidens searched long in vain, till at last they caught sight\nof the fleeing robber with his booty.\n\nWhat consternation! what lamentations!  Breathless they fled back to\nthe town, proclaiming the dreadful news with loud cries.\n\nAll became uproar, women ran moaning through the streets, girls\nlocked themselves in their rooms, as if the robber were behind them,\nthe older citizens talked and reasoned, the younger swore revenge,\nand the members of the town council moved with solemn steps and\nimposing mien toward the town hall, where the walls of the dark\ncouncil chamber should become silent witnesses of all the wisdom of\ntheir puffed-up pride and self-importance.\n\nEvening came on, the council chamber was lighted; the palate of each\nworthy member of the council rebelled against the fatigue of a longer\nsitting, and at last the B\u00fcrgermeister raised his voice and addressed\nhis colleagues: \"It is necessary, honourable gentlemen, that we come\nto a decision, and as it has been proved, through reliable witnesses,\nthat the robber of the bride is our dangerous neighbour, the Earl von\nArnstein, and the crime has been committed within the territory of\nour town, and as such a crime is punishable with death, we sentence\nthe said Arno to death by the hangman, do we not?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Worship!\" cried the chamberlain.\n\n\"Of course!\" said the syndic.\n\n\"Certainly!\" echoed the town clerk.\n\n\"Certainly!\" agreed every member of the council unanimously.\n\n\"If we take into consideration,\" continued the B\u00fcrgermeister, \"how\nmuch damage the said Arno of Arnstein has caused, death by the sword\nis too mild.  Shall he not die on the wheel, or be quartered?\"\n\n\"Of course!\" said the chamberlain, with a knowing nod.\n\n\"Certainly!\" agreed the syndic.\n\n\"How wise!\" cried one part of the councillors; \"How just!\" another.\n\n\"I am of opinion,\" resumed the B\u00fcrgermeister, \"that the execution\nshould take place immediately, before the said Arno does any more\nmischief.\"\n\n\"Of course! of course!\" cried the assembly.\n\n\"But--but--a--\" resumed his Worship, hesitating and undecided, \"we\nmust first have the criminal in our power, and that is--not--so--easy\na matter.  Can any one offer advice as to what is to be done?\"\n\nSilence!  All were dumb.  At last one cried, \"We must take him\nprisoner!\"\n\n\"Quite right,\" voted the councillors; \"he must be taken prisoner.\"\n\n\"That is also my opinion,\" said the B\u00fcrgermeister.  \"Nevertheless\nit--is--no--easy matter--to accomplish.  We could march out at once\nwith all the armed men we possess, and storm----\"\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" cried the syndic, \"we will storm the nest!\"\n\n\"We will storm it!\" exclaimed the town clerk, with a look intended to\nbe brave.\n\n\"How wise! how heroic!\" was the praise on every lip, while the\nB\u00fcrgermeister continued his interrupted address: \"But we have already\nexperienced the fact that the Arnstein is not easy to seize.  _By\nforce nothing can be done._\"\n\n\"No, by force nothing can be done!\" echoed the assembly as one man.\n\n\"We might attempt to take him by strategy,\" continued the orator;\n\"but Arno is cunning as a fox, and we should probably only expose our\ntown to more robbery if he discovered that we were trying to waylay\nhim.\"\n\n\"Certainly! certainly!\" agreed every mouth.\n\n\"Hence I give it as my opinion,\" concluded the B\u00fcrgermeister, \"that\nas force and stratagem would only bring upon us expense and danger,\nand the result is uncertain, that--that--a--that we allow the matter\nto rest as it is, and leave the criminal to the punishment of Heaven.\nDo you not think so, gentlemen?\"\n\n\"Certainly, your Worship, certainly!  How wise! how mild! how\nforbearing!\" shouted the assembly.\n\nThe B\u00fcrgermeister rose with official dignity, dismissed his\ncolleagues with a wave of the hand, and the exhausted councillors\nwere in the act of retiring, when the unhappy bridegroom rushed\nbreathless into their midst.\n\n\"What is decided?\" he cried hastily, and seized the syndic by the arm.\n\n\"What's that to you?\" growled that dignitary, who felt himself\ninsulted by such familiarity.  \"How do you dare to force yourself\nunbidden into the council chamber?\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon, gentlemen,\" stammered the bridegroom, surprised.\n\"I come to give you a capital piece of advice--the idea just occurred\nto me.\"\n\nEvery face grew long from assumed dignity.\n\n\"What! you will give advice?  You--to us?\"\n\nBut as the young man entreated them to hear him, the B\u00fcrgermeister\npermitted him to speak, provided he would be short.\n\nThe bridegroom unfolded his plan, which, though unwillingly, was\napproved of.\n\nMeanwhile, Arno concluded that his robbery of the bride was\nundiscovered, and was strengthened in this idea, as some days after\nhe saw a group of maidens, decked in bridal array, issue forth from\nthe town to the same meadow.\n\nSuddenly he resolved to carry off one of them, and when they had\ndanced themselves weary and had thrown themselves down on the grass\nto rest, he rushed out of the wood, and, like a vulture, swooped down\nupon his prey.\n\nBut, to his astonishment, the maiden, instead of resisting, held him\nfast, and the others drew forth daggers and attacked and killed his\nretainers.  Resistance was useless; he could not free himself from\nthe powerful arms of the disguised soldier.  They dragged him to\nAschersleben, and shut him up in a cage, where he starved to death.\n\nThe bridegroom put on Arno's armour, and the troop, concealed in\nloaded wagons, were conducted to the Arnstein by the disguised\nbridegroom.  The warder saw the train approaching, and at once opened\nthe gates to admit it.\n\nToo late, when all were within the walls, he discovered his error.\nSoon they had possession of the stronghold, and the bride was\nrestored to the bridegroom.\n\nThe cage they still show in Aschersleben, and the meadow is still\ncalled the Dance meadow.\n\nThere is a tradition of another knight of Arnstein, who, cold and\ncruel to all who in the least displeased him, was buried in the now\nruined chapel.  His ghost still haunts the ruins.\n\nHis second wife, a cruel step-mother, who oppressed her beautiful\nstep-daughter, keeps him company.  She is the spinner of the\nArnstein, doomed to spin on till her web breaks, when her spirit will\nbe set free.\n\nWhether the ghostly monk bore relation to this cruel pair we are not\ntold.  He visits the ruins, probably nightly, but can only be seen\nevery seven years by those who were born on St. John's Eve.  His duty\nis to chastise idle and deceitful servants.\n\n\n\n\nThe Pebble.\n\nAn old, poor, but honest man left his cottage to gather sticks and\nhealing herbs in the wood for sale in the neighbouring town.\n\nHe soon had a huge bundle of sticks bound together for his weary,\nbent back--bent from the burden of toil and of years--and a\nluxuriance of the healing woodroofs made gathering them a light task;\nbut when he reached the town everybody said, \"What's the need of wood\nnow, when it is summer?\"\n\nAnd the apothecary declared, \"It is June, and the blossoms have\nalready absorbed all the strength of the plants.  You must bring them\nhenceforth in May.\"\n\nNo one had an ear for the entreaties of the distressed man, and he\nset off for home hopeless and discouraged.  He saw no way of\ndeliverance out of his deplorable condition, no relief for his\nsuffering wife.  \"Yes,\" he sighed, \"if the bell in Wimmelburg had not\nbeen melted in the last fire, the bell through which God, the good\nFather, cured every sick person who heard its tones, there might be\nhelp for my poor wife; or, if it is not all a fable, of the great\ntreasure which the monks buried in Sittichenbach, and we could find\nit; or, if it is true about the hidden treasure in Eisleben, that\nonly he can find who can watch four-and-twenty days and nights\nwithout closing his eyes.  Oh!  I could watch the time, for sorrow\nkeeps me awake every night.  But all these tales must be only\nfancies, and the benevolent fairies in these mountains, who used to\nhelp the poor when they were near despair, are most likely long since\ngone, or else my trouble would have brought them to my relief.  And\nwith men, oh! with men there is no pity!\"\n\nIt seemed to him by these reflections as if a long, giant, shadowy\nform brushed past him in the twilight, whispering in his ear, \"Do not\ndespair.\"\n\nHe looked up, but saw nothing but the shadow of the oak under which\nhe sat, heard nothing save the sighing of the evening wind in its\nbranches.\n\nWith a tear in his eye, he took the bundle of wood on his back and\nwent on.  A moment after he saw a shining object on his path.  \"Ei!\nwhat a beautiful pebble!\" he thought.  \"I will take it home for the\nchildren to play with.\"\n\nIt was already late when he reached his cottage, and mother and\nchildren were asleep.  The thought of their distress when they awoke\ncaused him to try what he could do in the village, but all were deaf\nto his entreaties.  It was a very dark night, and returning home from\nthe village and opening the cottage door he almost sank down from\nterror, for it was light as if the house were on fire.  He opened the\ndoor leading into the court; there it was as if all were in flames.\nHe stood astonished, and gazed at the wonderful light, observed the\ndirection whence it came, and perceived it came from the little room\nin which he had laid the pebble on the window bench.\n\nHe recollected the stone he had picked up, and the belief in a good\nmountain spirit, and hurried to the room.\n\nThe varied splendid colours of the pebble quite dazzled his eyes; he\nwrapped it in a cloth, and hastened to his neighbour Bergmann, who\nknew all the stones of the Harz, and showed it to him.\n\nBergmann examined it well, and said, \"I don't know this stone, but it\nmust be worth money.  Come with me to-morrow to the town, and if you\nonly get a Thaler for it, it is some help.\"\n\nThe following day they went to a jeweller, a Jew, and offered him the\nstone.  Hardly had he cast eyes on it than he started, and cried,\n\"Wonderful!  How did you come by the stone?\"\n\nThe poor man was so frightened he was unable to reply; but Bergmann,\nwho had more experience, said, \"It does not matter where the stone\ncomes from; you need only tell us how much you will give for it.\"\n\n\"Well!\" replied the Jew, \"shall I have it for a hundred Thaler?\"\n\n\"How much?\" cried the finder, who could hardly believe his ears.  \"I\nam not in a mood for jokes; say honestly how much you will give.\"\n\n\"What, did I say a hundred Thaler?\" replied the Jew, for he thought\nthe apparent anger of the seller had another cause.  \"I beg pardon; I\nmeant to say a thousand Thaler.\"\n\nThe two friends were speechless with astonishment; Bergmann, however,\nanswered, \"How could you make us such an offer?  Give us the stone,\nfor you will not pay what it is worth.\"\n\n\"Indeed you are right,\" said the Jew with a low bow.  \"You must be\njoking with poor Levi, for you must know I could not command a\nsufficient sum to buy so costly a jewel.\"\n\nThe amazement of the two friends increased every moment, for the Jew\nwas known to be one of the richest men in the place.  Bergmann,\nhowever, replied with caution, \"You have guessed it; we only made a\njoke of the matter, and came really to beg you to recommend a\npurchaser.\"\n\n\"Why should I not?\" replied the jeweller.  \"But as true as I am an\nhonest Jew, there is only one person in the whole German Empire that\ncould purchase the jewel, and that is Fugger in Augsburg.\"\n\n\"And how high do you value it?\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Levi, after having put his spectacles again on his nose,\nand examining the stone carefully, \"if I am to give my honest\nopinion, it is worth three kingdoms.\"\n\nThe finder almost lost his equilibrium, while Bergmann put his hand\nto his head to see if it stood in the right place.  \"Three kingdoms,\ndid you say?\"\n\n\"Three kingdoms; and the purchaser could make money in the\ntransaction.\"\n\nAn hour after, the two friends stood before the treasurer of the\nPrince, for the finder could not make up his mind to undertake the\njourney to Augsburg until he had provided for his wife and children,\nand asked him if he would advance a hundred thousand Thaler on the\njewel, till they could sell it to Fugger.\n\nBut the treasurer was a vicious and avaricious man, who resolved to\nhave the stone at any price, even by force if necessary, and as the\nfriends would leave him, he threatened to throw them into prison if\nthe stone were not delivered to him as his property for the hundred\nthousand Thaler.\n\nTo prevent unpleasantness they consented, and went home laden with\ngold.\n\nMother and children were provided with every comfort, and soon after\nthey went to live in Aschersleben, for they could not be happy among\npeople who had refused assistance in their need but fawned upon them\nnow they were become rich.\n\nThe Jew received a handsome sum, and Bergmann was independent for\nlife through his grateful friend.\n\nBut how did matters go with the dishonourable treasurer?  His\npunishment was swift and terrible.\n\nThe next day he broke a piece from the stone, the tenth part of it,\nand presented himself before the Prince.\n\n\"Your Highness has given me a command to purchase jewels, as precious\nand costly as were to be found, that you might present them to the\nPrincess of the adjoining dominions, and thereby win her hand and\nrealm.\n\n\"I have not been able to find anything costly enough, and hence only\none thing remains to be done.  I possess a stone of priceless value,\nan heirloom of my family, which one of my ancestors took from a\nMahomedan Sultan.  I will resign it, however painful it may be.  Only\nlook at it and judge if any female heart could withstand such\nsplendour.  The Princess will bestow her hand upon your Highness, and\nI only ask in payment a few towns and villages, and a thousand acres\nof forest, and a thousand acres of arable land.  Judge if I am\nunreasonable.\"\n\n\"Thou shalt have it; thou shalt have more than thy demand!\" cried the\nPrince, as he beheld the glittering jewel, and embraced the\ntreasurer, called him friend and brother, and commanded his secretary\nto draw up the documents giving the treasurer the half of his kingdom.\n\nThe treasurer went joyfully home, dreaming of princely honours, for\nhad he not still a greater part of the stone in his possession?\n\nMeanwhile the Prince called his favourite courtiers, and showed them\nthe stone.  No one spoke for astonishment.  At last one of the\nsurveyors of the mines remarked how wonderful it was that many\npebbles possessed such brilliant colours, and it was to be regretted\nthat they faded in a few days.\n\n\"What? a pebble?\" cried the Prince.\n\n\"Yes, your Highness, only a pebble.\"\n\n\"A pebble?  Not a precious stone?  Then I have been deceived.\"\n\n\"Has your Highness bought it at a high price?  Such stones are found\nin the earth, but the sunlight soon fades the colours.\"\n\n\"I have promised the treasurer half my kingdom for the stone.\"\n\nCommand was given to arrest the treasurer, but a friend had given him\nwarning, and he had fled.  They pursued him, the Prince at their\nhead, found the unhappy man, deceived as well as deceiving, in a\ntree, and shot him dead on the spot.\n\n\n\n\nThe Monk and the Spring.\n\nIt was at Whitsuntide of the year 1292, as tradition tells us, that\nthe town council of the free, imperial M\u00f6hlhausen issued a\nproclamation, that whoever could discover and conduct a spring into\nthe upper town, which suffered much from fires through want of water,\nshould be richly rewarded; and in case he had committed a crime, he\nshould be pardoned.\n\nAt that time a monk of Kloster Reifenstein sat in the dungeon of the\nRabenthurm[1]--now called the Adlerthurm[2]---under sentence of death.\n\n\n[1] _Rabenthurm_--raven tower.\n\n[2] _Adlerthurm_--eagle tower.\n\n\nIn the days of his freedom, when he had gone on affairs concerning\nhis convent from Pfaffenrode to St. Daniel, he had often seen a\nspring among the hills.\n\nThe proclamation of the council penetrated to his criminal cell, and\nhe recalled this spring to his memory, and felt a wild longing\nthrough it to regain his freedom.\n\nBut the spring bubbled up in a deep valley, and a long chain of hills\nlay between it and the town.\n\nAnd the monk thought and studied, for before his soul stood the\nfragrant dishes of his convent and the costly wines, as attractive as\nthe fleshpots of Egypt to the Jews; but with this vision stood the\nhangman, hand-in-hand with the impossibility of moving this spring\nthrough these hills, grinning in diabolical glee.  He tossed restless\non his bed of straw, longing for the dawn.\n\nNow he sank into an uneasy slumber, disturbed by the most frightful\ndreams.  The Rabenthurm seemed to quake and tremble, he heard distant\nthunder, and saw the glare of the lightning.\n\nNow the foul fiend stood by his miserable bed tempting him.\n\nIn exchange for his soul, he promised to conduct the water of the\nspring to the upper town, and produced a roll of parchment containing\na plan of the work.\n\nAt length the unhappy man consented to the proposals.\n\nAgain he dreamed of his childhood, of his dead mother, of the fields\nand woods where he gathered the first daisies and violets of spring;\nand now again he listened to the raging storm.\n\nAt break of day the monk opened the fatal roll.  Judge of his\nastonishment and joy, as he saw the way marked out over hills and\nthrough ravines, by which the spring could be conducted with little\ndifficulty to the place required.\n\nHe immediately made his proposals to the council.\n\nHis freedom was promised him if the work succeeded, and a body of\nlabourers was given him for the carrying out of his plan.\n\nAnd soon the crystal stream gladdened the thirsting upper town with\nan abundance of water.\n\nBut the monk, so soon as he had fulfilled his contract, disappeared,\nand even gratitude could find no trace of him.  He was never seen\nagain.\n\n\n\n\nHildegard and the Hainerburg.\n\nIn the thirteenth century there lived in M\u00fchlhausen a respectable\nlocksmith, who was also an alderman.\n\nThis Herr Adam had six sons and an only daughter, Hildegard, who was\nthe loveliest maiden of all the plains of Germany.\n\nThe father's pride and joy were in these children, but his happiness\nwas doomed to annihilation.\n\nA wild and lawless knight of the Castle Hainerburg surprised\nHildegard alone at home, her father and brothers being absent in the\nterrors of a fire in the city, and carried her off in a deadly swoon\nto his castle.  Inexpressible rage filled the hearts of the citizens\nat the news of this violence, and they agreed to unite the coming\nweek for the destruction of the castle.\n\nBut the father, distracted with grief, determined at once to rescue\nhis child.\n\nThe very next night, the Ritter of the Hainerburg being absent on\nsome villainous scheme, the father with his six sons knelt in the\nchurch of the Virgin, and besought her aid in his bold project.\n\nAnd the petition was heard, for midnight was hardly past before the\nknights left behind in the Burg had been overpowered by the strong\narms of the avengers of innocence, and thrust in the deepest dungeon.\n\nThey prayed again for strength, and now the walls and towers fell\nthundering into the moat, for the Virgin had appeared on the\nbattlements encouraging them, and their strength had become\nsuperhuman.\n\nAnd when morning dawned, the sun illuminated only a shapeless mass of\nruins, and on the ruins the conquerors knelt and thanked heaven for\nthe given strength.\n\nGreat were the jubilee and gratitude of the citizens when they saw\nthe fallen fortress, and great their praise of the victors.\n\nThe fair Hildegard retired to the Br\u00fccken Kloster, where she died;\nand still the maidens of M\u00fchlhausen sing many a song of her beauty\nand singular fate at the joyful dance of the _Kirchweihfest_.[1]\n\n\n[1] In Germany an annual festival is held in commemoration of the\ndedication of the church of the place, called the\n_Kirchweihfest_--dedication festival.  Feasting, dancing, and\nuniversal merriment are the order of the day.  Friends are invited\nfrom far and near, and it is an occasion of general re-union in the\nparish.\n\n\n\n\nThe Three Stone Partridges.\n\nOn a flying buttress of the colossal Marienkirche, in M\u00fchlhausen, are\nthree stone partridges, and I am about to explain to you how they\ncame there.\n\nAt the time when Germany was in the middle of the great Reformation\ncontest, two prelates sat together with their well-filled--for the\nempty ones were speedily filled--wine-cups before them, and discussed\nthe pros and cons of the Reformed doctrines, and whether M\u00fchlhausen\nwas likely to adopt the Lutheran creed.\n\nAt last one of the reverend prelates grew angry and exclaimed: \"Those\nthree partridges now turning on the spit in the kitchen will fly,\nbefore the faith of the heretical Augustine monk will gain power in\nthis good city.\"\n\nBut, lo! scarcely were the haughty words uttered, when a cooing and a\nfluttering of wings were heard.\n\nThe prelates fled in a fright, seeing themselves robbed of their\ndinner; the partridges flew forth and settled on a buttress, where\nthey were turned to stone, and remained as heralds of the dawn of a\nbetter day.\n\n\n\n\nThe Forester and the Enchanted Castle.\n\nThe forester of Scharzfels, with his gun on his shoulder, was one day\nsauntering through the wood, when, as he turned a corner, he saw\nthree men in a young plantation digging, and thereby doing much\nmischief.\n\nAlready a strong oath was on his lips as the figures turned round\nand, through their odd, foreign appearance, frightened back every\nexpression of anger.\n\nOne was a tall, from the weight of years not much bent, grey-headed\nold man.  His bald head, from which on each side short silver locks\nhung down, a long white beard falling over his breast, the lean,\nstern features, and the black robe, gave him the appearance of an\nanchorite.\n\nThe second was a strong, powerful youth with flaming eyes.  An\nodd-shaped, pointed hat rested on his curly black hair, and an\nuncultivated beard covered the lower part of his face.\n\nThe third was a noble, imposing form, the fearless countenance framed\nin a thousand auburn locks of curly hair; the eye was full of fire\nand courage, the bold lips full of power.\n\nAll three looked at the approaching huntsman with so much firmness\nand composure that he was only able to inquire, \"What are you doing\nhere, gentlemen?  You are trampling under foot the young growths, and\nwith your scraping and digging you will destroy many a thriving tree.\"\n\nOne of the strangers replied to this address mildly, regretted that\nthey certainly had caused a little damage, but that was unfortunately\nnot to be prevented, since they sought just on this very spot certain\nstones which were absolutely necessary to them, and that they were\ncome from a great distance to make the search.\n\nThey expressed themselves, however, willing to make indemnification,\nif the forester would only make his demands.\n\nA further conversation betrayed to the forester that the strangers\nwere Venetians, and the result of it was that he permitted them to\ndepart without hindrance, or without accepting the smallest indemnity.\n\nSeveral years passed away; but every St. John's Day the forester saw\nand spoke with the same three strangers.\n\nAt last, one sultry summer afternoon, he threw himself down under a\ntree, and soon sank into a deep sleep.\n\nHow long he had slept he could not tell; as he opened his eyes he saw\nhimself in a perfectly strange place, in which directly before him\nrose a stately, wonderful castle, surrounded by a high wall.\n\nTerrified, the forester gazed around.  It was certain that he had\nnever before seen the neighbourhood, and that he had been\ntransplanted from Scharzfels to the spot by enchantment.\n\nIn the anguish of his spirit he said the Creed, the Lord's Prayer,\nthe _Ave Maria_, prayers for storms, and all the others he could\nthink of, all mingled in the wildest confusion, like one who had\ntaken leave of his senses.\n\nBut whether it was that he had left out a word, or was not earnest\nand devotional enough, the castle and its enclosing walls stood\nimmovable.\n\nThe terrified man knew of nothing better to do than to resign himself\nto his fate, and to observe more closely his surroundings.\n\nDark cypresses rose behind the stone walls, and fig trees thrust\ntheir wonderfully crooked fingers forward, as if they would draw him\nin; shining lizards crept up the wall, glanced at him with their\nglittering eyes, and then wriggled hurriedly into the garden, which\nhe could see through a grated gate under a great arch.\n\nBehind and among the shrubbery and trees he could see all sorts of\nmarble figures; goat-footed heathen gods, making awful faces; small\nhump-backed dwarfs with cocked hats; hunters with puffed-out cheeks\nblowing the horn; ladies with farthingales and horse-heads; urns\naround which salamanders, dragons, and other poisonous worms, with\nopen jaws and red tongues, dragged their slimy lengths; and many\nother indescribable, diabolical objects.\n\nAmong all these grinning creatures strutted a peacock, in which\ncertainly pride made a most ridiculous figure, as he craned his\nbeautiful neck in the brilliant sunlight, and dragged his gorgeous\ntail--alas! by means of the ugliest feet and legs ever made.\n\nSuddenly the gilded, grated door flew open, an old Moor came out,\nbowed low before the forester with his hands meekly crossed before\nhim, invited him by a wave of the hand to follow him, and both\nentered the garden.\n\nIntoxicating clouds of perfume floated toward him from every bush and\nhedge.\n\nWonderful, never-before-seen flowers nodded to him in greeting from\ntheir slender stalks, and bent before him their lovely heads.\n\nBrilliant birds flew from branch to branch before him, and sang with\nalmost human voice.\n\nThen an ugly sea-cat threw itself down from some tree, with its\nwinding tail twisted around some branch, ground the teeth with a\nhorrid grin, and sprang back into the thick foliage.\n\nFrom a side path a purple stork came forward with solemn gravity,\ntwisted the long neck up and down to affected compliment, scraped\nwith his thin legs behind him, and then walked resolutely before the\nforester and the conducting Moor, looking almost constantly back to\nsee if they were following.\n\nIn one of the marble basins a stone vintager upset continually the\ncask, and the clear, foaming new wine that streamed from the\nbung-hole bubbled up in the face of the sipping boy; in another an\nidol, ending in a fish's tail, blew out of a shell the clear stream\nin the air, and the dust of drops shone in the light like diamonds\nand rubies.  White temples with ivy-entwined pillars glittered behind\nthe hedges.\n\nThe forester followed like one in a dream, resisting, yet drawn on by\nan irresistible, enchanting power, until they reached a colossal\ncastle, built in a style perfectly unknown to him.\n\nHe climbed a marble flight of steps, and went on over costly carpets,\nso soft and smooth that he could not hear his own steps.\n\nThe fragrance of balsamic spices floated delightfully on the air from\ncensers in every chamber.\n\nRichly-worked tapestry covered the walls, the softest cushions\ninvited to repose, the light, like a soft twilight, fell through\ngreen windows, and composed the spirit to a sweet calmness and peace.\n\nFrom the lofty ceiling rare birds warbled their delicious melodies in\ngolden cages, and a grey parrot sat on his perch and pecked with his\ncrooked bill the golden wires of his hated cage.\n\nHere the Moor stood still, threw open a folding-door and pushed the\nbenumbed forester into a great salon.\n\nIn the vast chamber he stood fascinated, like one under enchantment,\nand gazed upon the extraordinary objects on every side.  Around the\ncostly chamber, near the magnificent walls, stood all sorts of\nanimals in life-size, in beaten gold, a perfect imitation of nature.\nAmazed, the forester gazed at the beautiful forms.  He never could\nhave satisfied his eyes with looking; and who knows how long he might\nhave stood there, if through another door the three men had not\nentered whom he had so often seen near Scharzfels?\n\nThey approached him, pressed his hand in the most friendly manner,\nand inquired how the chamber pleased him, and which piece he would\nchoose.\n\nAfter he had expressed his astonishment at the way he had been\nintroduced into the castle, the forester, in reply to the question as\nto what object he should prefer if permitted to choose, said he would\nunhesitatingly select the stag with his beautiful antlers.\n\nAfter some conversation, the eldest of the three said: \"You have\nknown us many years, and are aware that we went frequently to\nScharzfels to search for metals and stones, which you stupid Germans\ndo not prize, but which are, notwithstanding, of great value.  We\nhave now sufficient wealth, but we would wish to thank you for your\nforbearance, and entertain you as an honoured guest.\"\n\nThe forester was conducted to a _salle \u00e0 manger_ glittering with\ngold, silver, and crystal.  The rarest exotics beautified the table,\nand stood in graceful baskets and vases in every part of the\napartment.\n\nThe most delicious viands and oldest wines were served, and not till\na late hour did the merry party seek repose.  The forester sank, in\nhis silken couch, quickly into the arms of friendly sleep.\n\nOn awaking, he looked in surprise around him, for he lay under the\nshady beach in full view of Schloss Scharzfels.\n\n\"What a droll dream!\" he cried, springing up and brushing the grass\nand moss from his clothes.  But he stood as if transfixed, as he\nbeheld the stag he wished for--the golden stag with great diamond\neyes--lying in the grass beside him!  The three men he never saw\nagain, not even on St. John's Day.\n\n\n\n\nThe Steinkirche[1] and the Hermit.\n\n[1] _Steinkirche_--stone church.\n\nIn the grey days long ago, when paganism ruled the land, there stood\non the hills near the cave called the Steinkirche--altars to the gods.\n\nBright were the fires to Krodo in the darkness of the night, and on\nthe opposite cliffs rose the fire pillar in honour of the goddess\nOstera.[2]\n\n\n[2] From _Ostera_ we have the name Easter.\n\n\nThe crackling flames illuminated the country and the mountains, and\ninvited the inhabitants of the near-lying vales and heights to the\nwild customs, the bloody sacrifices, and the raving dance of\nheathenism.\n\nThen came from a southern land a hermit to this district.  He beheld\nthe smoking sacrificial altars, he heard the songs of the reeling,\nstaggering heathen, and with a slow and solemn tread he climbed the\nmountain.\n\nThe peculiar, reverence-awaking appearance of the stranger produced\nquiet among the raging throng.  One seated himself here, another\nthere, another leaned on his spear, and all listened in silence and\nattention to what the strange figure might have to say to them.\n\nAnd as the tempest with hollow moans and wails sweeps over the\ntree-tops, so the aged stranger lifted up his voice, and preached to\nthe assembly the Christian faith with ever-increasing enthusiasm.\n\nAt first they heard quietly his earnest words; but as he began to\ncondemn the gods so dear to them, and challenged them to break in\npieces their idols, and turn to the worship of the only true God,\ntheir rage kindled.\n\nThey sprang to their feet, forced him to silence, and after a short\nconsultation voted unanimously that the blasphemer of their gods must\ndie.\n\nIn a few moments the trembling old man was seized by the giant forms,\nled down from the summit of the mountain to a place suitable for the\nexecution.\n\nThe hermit sent up a petition to the Almighty for strength and\ncourage in the trying moment, released himself from their arms with a\nSamson strength, seized from one standing next him a wooden\nbattle-axe, and thus addressed the bloodthirsty multitude:\n\n\"So sure as I with this weak tool split this firm rock, so sure as\nthis wood produces a temple for the worship of the one eternal God in\nthis immovable mass of stone, so true is the word, the gospel, which\nI proclaim to you.\"\n\nWhen he had uttered these words, he struck with trembling arm the\nrough cliff, and lo! the firm rock yielded like soft clay to the weak\nblow of the wooden axe!\n\nAnd at this moment the sun shone forth from behind thick clouds,\nbathing rocks and wood with a warm, rosy light, and the birds in a\nthousand voices sang the praises of Creator and Father.\n\nAnd the hearts of the wild Sassen[3] were opened; with one mind they\nsank on their knees in reverence and adoration before the God of the\nwhite-headed old man who had received the power to work such a\nmiracle.\n\n\n[3] _Sassen_--Old German for Saxon.\n\n\nThey vowed to a man henceforth to forsake the worship of Krodo, to\nremain true to the new faith, followed the venerable hermit to the\nbanks of the Oder, and were baptized into Christ's death and\nresurrection, and from every side the people flocked to hear the\nwords of the apostle.\n\nThus was formed in the rugged, steep cliff the primeval cave, the\nSteinkirche, the meeting-place of the first Christians of this\nneighbourhood.\n\n\n\n\nThe Nymph Ruma and the Weingarten H\u00f6hle.\n\nIn the middle of fruitful fields and green meadows not far from\nScharzfels rises the ball-shaped alabaster Romerstein, on whose\nsummit ragged cliffs rise in the air resembling the ruins of a castle.\n\nIn the days before authentic history a race of giants dwelt\nhereabout, who, fearing the mountain-spirit,[1] piled up these cliffs\nand constructed thus a giant fortress, of which these cliffs are the\nproud remains.\n\n\n[1] _Berggeist._\n\n\nRomar, a blooming youth of this race, was once hunting in the\nneighbouring forest for deer or wild boar.\n\nThe soft air fanned gently his glowing face, the birds sang in the\nthicket, and the gentle influence of the hour led him to slacken his\npace.\n\nSuddenly he stood still before a maiden asleep on a mossy bank under\nthe rustling trees.\n\nSilently admiring, Romar gazed at the sleeping beauty, and the\nsweetest emotions filled his breast, till the stranger opened her\neyes and beheld him, uttered a scream of terror, sprang up, and fled\ninto the thickest of the forest.\n\nA moment Romar stood rooted to the ground; then coming to his senses,\nhe followed the fleeing maiden, and, soon overtaking her, quieted her\nfears by kind and honest words; and this first meeting gave rise to\nmany others.  All suspicion, every fear vanished, and love speedily\nfilled the maiden's heart.\n\nRomar inquired after the descent of his beloved, and turned pale as\nhe discovered that she was a nymph, and the daughter of the\nBerggeist, so hostile to his race, and a river goddess, and dwelt in\nthe neighbouring mountain lake.\n\nThe nymph reassured him, told him she was her father's favourite, and\nhe had never refused her a single request, and certainly would not\nrefuse his consent to their union.\n\nAccordingly, during the absence of the Berggeist, they were married.\n\nA long time had passed, and Romar slept one day under an oak near\nRuma, who held a lovely boy in her arms.  Her father, returning from\nhis journey, stepped out of the thicket, and came suddenly upon them.\n\nHis first glance at the pair told him what had happened, and a\nsmothered tone of anger forced itself from his trembling lips.\n\nTerrified, the nymph sprang up, and as she saw her secret discovered,\nand her father so enraged, she rushed toward him and entreated him to\nbe calm.  Romar now came forward and sought from the old mountain god\nreconciliation; but the latter only became more enraged.\n\nA wave of his hand called whole troops of well-armed dwarfs together,\nwho were commanded to lead away mother and child; while others so\nmaltreated Romar, that he only escaped covered with wounds to the\nGiant Castle.\n\nThe Berggeist now tormented his unhappy daughter every hour to give\nup her husband.  But her love for Romar only increased, and her\nfather in his insane rage seized the child, broke it in pieces on the\nrocks, cursed and swore because he could not take the same measures\nwith his mother, created with a wave of his hand the cave, the\nWeingarten H\u00f6hle, banished her into it, and left her with a laugh of\nscorn.\n\nBanished into the earth, shut up in a cave, the entrance guarded by\nmalicious cobolds, the wretched Ruma sought to reach Romar, and a\nsuccession of cavings in proves her efforts to set herself free; but\nher watchful father always thrust her back into the depths of the\nearth.\n\nAt last, after long years, she succeeded, by a subterranean way, in\nescaping from her father's dominions, as a full stream to spring into\nthe light of day, and at a time when he, by the decree of an\ninscrutable destiny, had been attacked by a sort of torpor, she\nreached her old residence, the Nymph's lake, and was reunited to her\nfaithful husband.\n\nThe river which springs from the mountain on the border of the Gyps\nmountains is called, in honour of the faithful, loving nymph, the\nRuma.  Still its waters redden with the blood of her innocent child.\n\nThe cliffs of the ruinated Giant Castle wear mourning still, and bear\nthe name of the hero, the Romerstein, or Romar's rock.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of the Schildberg.\n\nNot far from the Lautenthal there existed in the pre-historic times\nthe Schloss Schiltberg, or Schildberg, of whose builders, destroyers,\nand history we know next to nothing.  All we know is that the Kaiser\nFrederic I., in war against Henry the Lion, took the castle in 1180.\n\nOn the rugged, precipitous rocks stand the ruins of a dilapidated\ntower, now half veiled by clouds and mists, now echoing the roar of\nthe savage tempest.\n\nBeneath, in the still valley, is a half-sunken grave, and a weeping\nwillow spreads sadly her branches over it.  Above, on the wild rocks,\nonce stood a strong castle, whose walls hid many a deed of horror and\ncrime.  Below, in the peaceful vale, there was a small, simple\nhermitage, where an old hermit had dwelt alone long years.\n\nFrom the high fortress the robber-band of knights rode down the\nmountain, for they perceived the long-desired prey in the distance.\n\nBeneath, by the quiet hermitage, appeared the pious old hermit,\nlooked reprovingly upon them, and shook his silver-white locks.\n\n\"Ye wild knights!\" he cried, \"ye shall no longer bring disgrace and\nshame upon the honour of knighthood.  No longer shall ye march forth\nto rob and plunder.  Know, thou leader of thy robber-troop, thy time\nis expired.  Enter my hermitage, confess, and take the communion, for\nthou shalt never again ride living into the valley.\"\n\nBut the proud knight fell in a rage at the solemn admonition.\n\"Punish the old bird of ill omen!\" he cried in a fury, and rode away.\n\nNow the hermitage chapel is wrapped in flames, and the aged hermit\nsinks to the ground from many wounds.\n\nDying, he stretches forth his hands in pain, and cries after the\nretreating knight, \"Ride on, ride till the judgment day; ride every\nnight through the forests, till thy horse sinks exhausted under thee,\nand may no pious one meet thee, but only the foul fiend of perdition!\"\n\nMourning, the robber-band rode back to the high castle, for their\nleader had fallen with his horse and broken his neck.\n\nThey laid him in the still vault, but he cannot enjoy the peace of\nthe grave.  When the moonbeams fall soft and pale on castle and\nrocks, he tears in a wild gallop on his black horse below into the\nquiet valley.\n\nTo the grave of the hermit is the ghostly ride, and there, a grey,\nbleeding shadow, stands the murdered old man.\n\nAnd a ghostly voice whispers, \"Ride on, wicked knight, till the day\nof eternal retribution; but do not terrify the good, only the wicked.\nAnd where the stumbling of thy horse once brought thee death, there\nshall thy ride end, there shalt thou stumble every night.\"\n\nAlready long the castle has laid in ruins; but the knight rides ever,\nwithout rest, on a wild black steed from its lonely tower to the\nhermit's weeping-willow-shaded grave; and the enchantment can only be\nbroken when the robber-knight, on his night ride, meets one more\nwicked than himself.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of Silberhohl.\n\nIn the neighbourhood of Leesen lies a spot called Silberhohl.  It is\nalmost round, and several feet deeper than the ground around it, and\nquite overgrown with swamp-moss.  People go by with a shudder, for\nthere is something the matter with the place.\n\nCenturies ago a stately castle stood on the spot, in which there was\nalways much drinking, gambling and wild merriment.\n\nThe nobles of the castle acted as if they owned the whole world; and\neverything did belong to them that they could take by force, for they\nlived by robbing, and were guilty of much violence and cruelty.\n\nOne could say with truth, there was not a single good heart in the\nBurg except the young girl Jutta.  Everybody loved her, and often,\nwhen the robbers had marched out to plunder, she would visit the poor\nand the sick, and even the robbed, giving them food and the money she\nhad saved.  The suffering and poor called her Saint Jutta.\n\nOnce the robbers had committed a monster crime.  Covered with the\nblood of those they had robbed, they returned laden with booty to the\ncastle.\n\nSoon the goblets stood on the oaken tables, and the unholy, lawless\nrevel began.\n\nSuddenly the most terrible thunder rolled, a mighty flash of\nlightning swept the hall, the earth quaked and opened, the walls\ntrembled, the tower shook and fell with an awful noise that was heard\nmiles away.  All sank in the gulf, which closed again, and nothing\nwas left of the castle but a deep round spot where it had stood.\n\nMany came to see the place so marked by a Divine vengeance, and every\none said, \"Poor Jutta!\"\n\nNot long after the destruction of the Burg, a poor woman in a\nneighbouring village fell ill.  She wept sore, for her three little\nchildren cried for bread, and she could work no longer.\n\nThe mother folded her hands and prayed.  Then she said to herself,\n\"Oh! if the dear Jutta were only alive!\"\n\nThen the door was opened softly; a light form wrapped in a white\nveil, with a gleaming diadem in her hair, came forward to the bed.\n\n\"Jutta!\" cried the poor mother.\n\nThe figure waved the hand, glanced kindly at the sleeping children,\nset down a peculiar shaped basket on a table, drew a cross over the\nmother, and vanished.\n\nA deep sleep fell on the poor woman, and when she awoke the next\nmorning she found the basket full of gold pieces.\n\n\n\n\nLautenthal.[1]\n\n  \"_Harmonieen h\u00f6r' ich klingen,\n  T\u00f6ne s\u00fcsser Himmelsr\u00fch._\"\n\n  \"Harmonies I hear resounding,\n  Tones of sweet, heavenly music.\"\n\n[1] The valley of the lute.\n\nWhy dost thou sit so lonely on the declivity of the mountain,\ninnocent daughter of the Felsenburg?  Why does the cloud of care rest\non thy countenance?  Why dost thou gaze with such sad longing into\nthe vale below?\n\nThe light of thy eyes is dimmed by a tear; heavy and anxious rests\nthy curly head on thy snowy arm; as the heavenly glory crowns the\nhead of a martyred saint, so the splendour of sunset bathes thy form.\nDeep and great must be the anguish that fills thy breast, and yet\nthou dost endure speechless and silent.  Not a sigh breaks from thy\nswelling heart, not a lament from thy lips, not a sad note from the\nstrings of the lute that lies hushed before thee.\n\nWeep no longer, child of grief; brighten thy saddened countenance.\nHe for whom thou art waiting, the beloved of thy soul, will come; he\nwill come with the quick step of love, and his glance will chase away\ngrief and care from thy soul.\n\nHark!  Already it rustles in the wood, already his tread resounds on\nthe rocks; he climbs the mountain.\n\nWith the bliss of the purest love he clasps the sorrowing maiden in\nhis strong arms--and yet thou remainest in mourning and tears?\n\nFairest of the blue-eyed daughters of the Harz, is thy heart cold in\npresence of the flame of love, as the ice of the Brocken is proof\nagainst the sun of the spring-time?\n\nAh! not cold and hard was her heart; pure and tender, as the dewdrops\nin the lily, it lay in her innocent breast, and adorned the morning\nof her life, till the sunny fire of love smiled down upon her.  Then\na never-before-imagined bliss trembled through the pure flower, her\nheart was filled with joy, the clear dewdrop dissolved in love.  The\ndewdrop belongs to the sunbeams, and the heart of the maiden to the\nyouth she loves.\n\nBut fate was not favourable to the lovers--fate, the destroyer of so\nmany blissful bonds.\n\nJutta was the daughter of a noble whose Schloss lay near Leesen, and\nErnst the son of an old warrior, who, after having fought many a\nbattle in his youth and won many honours, now poor, weak from wounds,\nand forgotten by the world, had retired into solitude, to spend the\nremainder of his days in memories of his active life, and in the\neducation of his only son.  Under his guidance Ernst grew up strong\nand free, a true son of the Harz, lofty of stature and of an exalted\nmind, with a noble heart and countenance, with a fearless glance and\nbold design.\n\nWhere the Innerste, which springs from the Barenbruche, approaches\nher issue from the Harz, she quickens her course, flowing among\nsteep, well-wooded mountains in youthful mirth, or silently over\nsands, playing with the water-violets, which from the damp moss bend\ntheir blue heads in the crystal ripples.  Beautiful rises on either\nbank the forest.  Here grow mighty firs, whose roots spring from the\nmetal-rich graywacke; there, slender beeches in the clay-slate;\nyonder, maples with their lovely leaves.  Wild lettuce, yellow and\nred, grows next the round shave-grass, and the water-lily and mallow\nrock themselves on the fragrant banks; on the rocky mountain wall\nshimmers the white-browed swallow-wort, the saxifrage, and the yellow\nwall-pepper; from the mossy ground of the forest spring the flaming\npurple toad-stool, the agaric, and the pale goat's-beard.\n\nThe classic wood-singers fill the air with wondrous melodies.\n\nFrom the topmost branches of the firs, where he has built his nest,\nthe tiny greenfinch sings his little song.  Beneath, on the\nriver-banks, sounds the soft flute-like voice of the white-breasted\nplover, the whistling of the thistle-finch; and the blackbird and\nlinnet, the cross-bill and thrush make the green halls merry with\ntheir ringing voices.\n\nIn this valley, on the rushing, roaring Innerste, stood the cottage\nof unhewn trees and stones, covered with moss, in which father and\nson led a contented life.  A small garden surrounded it, in which\nErnst loved to work; there he listened to the tales of his father, or\nhunted in the mountain forests.\n\nOne day, as he had gone in the direction of Goslar, a singular\nhowling fell upon his ear.  He listened, recognised the howl of a\nwolf, mingled with the piercing neighing of a horse in deadly terror,\nand at the same time saw a rider tearing in fear over the mountains,\nwithout giving any heed to his calls.\n\nHe hurried in the direction of the neighing and howling, where he\nheard at the same time a female voice crying for help.\n\nA large wolf hung on the neck of the almost prostrate horse, on whose\nback sat a charming maiden.\n\nTo see this, and with practised hand to throw the javelin in the body\nof the beast of prey, that he sank at the feet of the horse, was the\nwork of an instant.  Quickly the youth thrust his hunting-knife in\nthe beast, and the bowlings ceased.\n\nThe maiden was saved, and looked gratefully upon her deliverer--and\nwhat a look!  An unspeakable bliss penetrated his breast, he stood\nspeechless before the pure rescued maiden, and his whole soul hung on\nher eye.\n\nIt was not the rosy cheek, not the crimson lips, that wounded his\nheart so deliciously, but her eye.\n\nThe horse was not able to carry her home, her servant had fled, and\nErnst undertook to conduct her to her father's Burg.  Arrived there,\nnot all the entreaties of the rescued maiden could induce him to\nenter, but already it was difficult to tear himself away.\n\nThe impression she had made did not escape her notice, and as she\ngave him her hand at parting, carried away by the depth of her own\nemotions, she yielded to his entreaties to meet him sometimes, and\npromised with tears in her eyes.\n\nErnst hunted no more on the mountains, but stood dreaming on a high\nspot whence he could see her father's castle.  And when he espied\nJutta with her lute descend into the castle garden, and wander into\nthe wood, he rushed to meet her, and lived a blissful hour in\nlistening to her voice and lute, and she at last confessed she loved\nhim with all her heart.\n\nBut now a rich earl sought Jutta's hand, and the lord of the\nFelsenburg promised this suitor his daughter, because his debts were\nso great that only a wealthy son-in-law could save his estates.\n\nIn vain Jutta threw herself at her father's feet and declared she\nloved a handsome, good, and noble youth of ancient race.\n\n\"Is he rich?\" was the father's sole question.\n\n\"No!\"  Alas, \"no!\"  Ernst was in despair, and Jutta wept hours at a\ntime, which only spoiled her pretty eyes without doing her the least\ngood.\n\nJutta at last resolved to give up Ernst for her father's benefit, but\nshe would see him once more, and assure him that her filial love\ncould not lessen her affection for the choice of her heart.\n\nThat was what caused her sadness as we first saw her, and Ernst, as\nhe rushed towards her, must have had some presentiment of the coming\ntrouble in her resolve.  But she could not tell him her purpose, and,\nas they parted, whispered, \"to-morrow we will see each other again.\"\n\nThe following day was nearly gone, and evening had sent on her shadow\nbefore her.  Jutta strengthened herself for her sad walk with a\nprayer, took her lute, and went through the garden into the forest,\nto the spot where she usually met her lover.\n\nErnst was not yet there.  She walked some distance in the direction\nof his cottage to a projection of the mountain, whence she could look\ndown into the vale, and waited there for him.\n\nLost in her sad thoughts, her fingers swept lightly the strings of\nthe lute, calling forth soft melodious notes.  Finding comfort in the\ntones, the harmonies grew louder and louder, and she listened with\njoy to the tones, now fancying them the voice of the nightingale or\nthe thrush.\n\nAt last her hands swept wildly over the strings in the strength of\nher sorrow.\n\nMeanwhile Ernst had approached.  He listened amazed to the tones,\nwhich floated to meet him, sounding entirely different from anything\nhe had ever heard from Jutta's lute before.\n\nIt was as if a clear harmonious voice called back every note that\nflew from the strings.\n\nSlowly and in indescribable purity the harmonies echoed through the\nmountains, and just where Ernst stood the sweet tones trembled in the\nair, as if the whole vale were one great harp.\n\n\"Can there be a cave here,\" thought Ernst, \"which has such a\nwonderful echo?\" and turned over a moss-grown stone with his foot.\nWho shall describe his astonishment as he saw a white shimmering\nstone before him, which extended so deep as he removed the moss?\n\nHis exclamation brought Jutta to his side, who at the sight threw\nherself into his arms with tears of joy.\n\n\"We are saved!  It is silver!\" they both exclaimed in the same breath.\n\nOf course the earl received a _Korb_.[2]  Ernst and Jutta were\nmarried.  Ernst became the director of the mine, loaded with honours\nfor his discovery, and ever since the valley has been called the\nValley of the Lute.\n\n\n[2] _Korb_--basket.  _Er hat einen Korb bekomnen_, is the German or\n\"He has been rejected;\" \"he has got the mitten;\" that is, \"he has got\nthe basket.\"\n\n\n\n\nEva von Trotta.\n\nA HISTORICAL TALE.\n\nOn one of the border mountains, on the western slopes of the Harz, in\ngloomy desolation, rise the grey ruins of the old Schloss\nStaufenburg, which still remind us of a most romantic though sad\nhistory.\n\nHome-like, and at the same time sublime, silent, and solitary, must\nhave been this now destroyed seat of kaisers and princes in the\nmysterious Middle Ages.  Its position is fascinating, surrounded on\nthree sides by high wooded mountains, with a wide view open to the\nsouth, which was then probably partially shut out by the primeval\ndense forests, now, however, extending over the little mining town of\nGittelde and the picturesque mountain landscape to Osterode and the\nhigh-seated Schloss Herzberg.\n\nThe magic of this picture is greatly enhanced by the soft lights of\nsunset, and the dim, semi-transparent mists, which like a floating\nveil half hide its beauties, and fill the excited fancy with a\nmysterious presage of that poetic something we call the Past.\n\nThe mountain--on which are decaying bits of walls, where, until a few\nyears ago, a strong square tower, eighty feet in height, with\nopenings here and there, looked solemnly down on the vale--is cut off\nsharp on the east, west, and south sides from its wooded brethren\nthat rise high above it, only on the north side sloping gradually to\nits base; and it is on this side one climbs to the spot where Kaiser\nHenry the Vogler, or Fowler, had a decoy for birds.\n\nThe halls trodden by royalty, the boudoirs where Beauty ruled eight\nhundred years ago, are fallen into green ruin; the death-owl hoots,\nand bats and lizards house among their overgrown stones.\n\nMany of these ruins on the borders of the Harz mountains remind us of\nHenry the Fowler, who built them to defend the plains and homes of\nthis part of Germany from the wild and lawless Huns.  As Duke of\nSaxony he is said to have lived here with his Duchess, in this\nhunting-seat, when he was chosen Kaiser of the holy Roman Empire in\n920; several other places, however, claim the honour.\n\nLater the Staufenburg came to the Earls of Katlenburg, who had their\nseat near; and after the extinction of this house it fell into the\nhands of the mighty Duke Henry the Lion, of Saxony and Brunswick,\nbefore whose sword even the powerful Barbarossa trembled, and\nremained in the possession of his descendants, several of whom wore\nthe imperial crown.\n\nThe Harz forests with their rich stores of game attracted not seldom\nthe hunt-loving princes of Brunswick to their deep shades, and horn\nand hound and the wild ho ho! hio hi! of the hunter were heard over\nmountain and vale.\n\nThen came a calmer period for the old Staufenburg, as the retired\nseat of princely widows, and here lived, in the fourteenth century,\nthe Duchess Elizabeth, widow of William the Younger.\n\nOblivion at last sits green a couple of centuries in this solitude,\ntill it is chosen as the hiding-place of a sinful love, and wild\ntales came to be told among the simple mountaineers of a White Lady\nwho haunted the castle.\n\nOn the grey stone balcony stood, one summer day in 1537, two persons\nin close conversation.\n\nThe lady, arrayed in white, was of remarkable and striking beauty.  A\ntall form of the most perfect symmetry, brilliant white complexion,\ncheeks of a delicate rose, very large clear blue eyes, dark brown\nhair falling in luxuriant natural curls, and a dainty hand and foot,\nmade her the delight of every eye that looked upon her.\n\nThe grace of all her movements seemed akin to poetry and music, and\nthe expression of her radiant countenance betokened a noble and\namiable mind.\n\nHer companion, Duke Henry the Younger, of\nBrunswick-L\u00fcneburg-Wolfenb\u00fcttel, clasped one of her tiny hands,\nglittering with diamonds, in his own, stroked her magnificent hair,\nand gazed into her face with silent rapture.\n\nIt was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon, and the coffee table,\naccording to German custom at this hour, stood in the garden below\ndraped in white, a silver coffee service glittered on the table,\nfragrant mountain strawberries lent a rich bit of colouring, and by\none cup lay a spray of white roses.\n\nThe broken fountain suggested a feeling of loneliness, and the high\nold grey stone walls enclosing the castle shut it out--or in--from\nthe world beyond, and all the events now transpiring behind them were\na profound secret.  The white-robed figure was literally dead and\nburied to the world, which had \"assisted\" at her funeral.\n\n\"Oh, Henry!\" exclaimed Eva von Trotta, for the youthful form belongs\nto no other than this Fair Rosamond of Germany, \"you strive to\ncomfort me, but in vain.  All your words of kindness and passionate\nlove, cannot crush the worm that is gnawing at the thread of my\nlife--cannot silence the voice of conscience.  I must open my heart\nto you to-day, for every visit you make me here I tremble to think\nmay be the last.  And yet it is all wrong--all wrong, Henry; every\nvisit, every gift from your dear hand is a sin against the good and\nnoble-minded Duchess, once my motherly friend, a sin against your\nlawful children.\"\n\n\"Dear Eva,\" said Henry, interrupting her, \"our children are lawful.\nI gave you my left hand at the altar, the wedding-ring and its\ndiamond keeper glitter on this little hand I hold in mine.  The\nChurch has consecrated our union.\"\n\n\"That is only a hollow pretension.  I see it all now.  Look at this\nbeautiful Prayer Book in gold and precious stones, and the Bible[1]\nwith my name in gold on its cover,\" she continued, pointing to a\nsmall table where they lay.\n\n\n[1] Luther's Bible appeared two years before this scene.  Eva was\nProtestant.\n\n\n\"They were among your gifts on our--our--our marriage day.  I come\nand sit here when alone, where I can look out on the mountains, and\nread them and seek consolation, but find none.  They are a silent\nreproach to me.  You had no right to give them, nor I to take them.\nAnd in my Bible I opened yesterday to St. Paul's words: '_the husband\nof one wife_.'  They pierced like daggers to my heart.  Henry, Henry,\nI ought to flee this spot, and never see you more; and yet I cannot.\nI should die if I did not see your dear face sometimes, and hear your\nvoice.\"\n\n\"My darling Eva, put away these harrowing thoughts; they are\nshortening your precious life.\"\n\n\"Oh! why did we meet? or meeting, why was it not earlier, when our\nlove had been no sin?  When I recall the affection and confidence of\nthe Duchess, and reflect on my base, false friendship, my face burns\nwith pain and shame.  The world would curse me; she would too, if she\nknew.  The watch I wear, that you gave me that last morning in the\nantechamber, when I was on duty as lady in waiting, reminds me of the\nflight of time, and the unceasing approach of a coming judgment.  I\nnever look upon it without a throb of bitter anguish.  'Nothing that\nloveth or maketh a lie' shall enter heaven--_and my life is a lie_.\nOh, Henry!  I shall perish eternally, and my noble boy will grow up\nto curse my memory;\" and leaning her head on Henry's breast, she wept\nbitterly.\n\nProbably Henry's own reflections were not of the most agreeable and\nconsoling character, as he was thus compelled to recall his injustice\nand sin in his neglect of the Duchess.  He gave, however, no\nexpression to his misgivings, but only said, pointing to the\ncoffee-table: \"Let us think of this no more; dry up these childish\ntears, and let us go down--come, dear.\"\n\n\"My tears are not childish, Henry, only useless.  But the world will\ndiscover our dreadful secret, the Duchess and her powerful father\nwill complain to Kaiser and Pope, your visits will be forbidden--and\nwhat will become of me and my boy?\"\n\n\"Eva, I will do what I before proposed, before you came here.  I will\nseek a divorce from the Duchess, and we will be married in the face\nof the empire, and your boy, my favourite son, shall be my heir to\nthe ducal throne.\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" cried Eva in feverish, wild excitement, clasping her\nhands and looking up to heaven, in which attitude she presented such\nan enchanting grace and beauty that Henry caught her in his arms and\ncovered her face and hair with kisses, calling her by every endearing\nname he could think of.\n\n\"No, Henry; never, never will I be guilty of such a gigantic wrong.\nMy son shall never be your heir, shall never supplant your first-born\nson and lawful heir.  My noble Eitel[2] is noble in character as in\nname; he would never consent no more than I.  But I live in constant\nterror of discovery.\"\n\n\n[2] _Eitel_--noble.\n\n\n\"Do not fear that, my darling; every servant here is bound by a\nsolemn oath; your faithful nurse Magda is the only one who is\npermitted to leave the castle, and she does so in the deepest\ndisguise.  The priest at Gandershein who united us at the convent\naltar is bound by his priestly vows, and the heavy bribe I gave him,\nto silence.  The Abbess, too, who managed the details of your\nfuneral, and the artistic priest who made your wax effigy and the\nplague-spots with ink on your white face and hands, are both bound by\nthe most solemn oaths.  None of these will ever betray us, and no one\nelse knows our secret--we are safe.\"\n\nHenry was right.  Though this relation continued seven years, and\nended only through Eva's death, no one discovered the secret; he\nhimself revealed it in his partial love for her only son, whom he\nsought to make his heir.  But the lovers little imagined that one\nperson knew Eva was not lying in the damp vaults of the convent, and\nthat they would be at the mercy of this discoverer.\n\nTheir conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the little\nEitel Henry, a princely boy, who inherited his mother's striking\nbeauty, his long brown curls, falling over his shoulders.\n\n\"Come, _M\u00fctterchen_, coffee is ready, and I have put some white roses\nfor you, and Babette has brought mountain strawberries: come--come,\nPapa,\" and the little fellow put up his mouth for a kiss.  The mother\nstooped and covered his head and face with passionate kisses, and\nHenry, springing forward, enclosed them both in a tender embrace.\n\nBehind came nurse Gretchen in snowy cap and apron, with a lovely babe\nin her arms, and both parents sprang forward as if each would be the\nfirst to seize the child.\n\nTo a stranger who had not been behind the scenes it was an innocent\nand pure family scene, betraying nothing of the wrong and bitterness\nthese relations had caused.  To explain further, we must go back in\nour history to Eva's childhood, and her introduction to the court of\nHenry the Younger, Duke of Brunswick and his Duchess Maria von\nWurtemberg.\n\n\nA lovely spring morning dawned joyously over the castle of the\nMarshal Adam von Trotta--or Troth--of Brandenburg, but sorrow housed\nwithin it, for the lady of the castle must die.  The invalid reclined\non a huge old-fashioned sofa, propped up with silken cushions,\nsurrounded by her husband, her two sons, and her young and only\ndaughter Eva.  It was a large and richly-furnished chamber, hung with\nrare paintings, but the most charming pictures of all were the views\nits windows commanded.\n\nThe dying mother kissed and dismissed her children, knowing it was\nfor the last time.  The manly youths kissed the mother's emaciated\nhand and silently retired, but Eva flung herself sobbing on her\nbreast, and refused to be comforted.\n\nAt last the Marshal led her from the room.\n\n\"We are alone for the last time,\" said the invalid, as the Marshal\nreturned, putting her hand in his.  \"Move me nearer the window, that\nI may look once more on the park I love so well.\"\n\nAfter a pause she exclaimed, \"My poor motherless Eva!--as she will be\nbefore this morning's sun goes down.  I can leave my sons with more\nresignation, for they are noble youths, and able to fight the world's\nbattles; but Eva has the dangerous gift of an unusual beauty, and the\nworld is full of snares and traps for such as she promises to be.\"\n\n\"She is your image when I brought you home a young wife.[3] She has\nyour eyes, your brown curls, now touched with grey, and to me dearer\nthan ever.  In her I shall see your form and face every hour.\"\n\n\n[2] In Germany one never says _Braut_--bride--after the marriage; but\n_die junge Frau_--young wife.  _Braut_ is employed during the\nengagement.\n\n\n\"Nurse Magda has promised me never to leave her, and her\nfoster-sister Alice, who is strongly attached to her, will be of\ngreat assistance in watching over her as they both grow older.  Keep\nEva with you as long as you can, but in the event of a campaign send\nher to your brother.\"\n\nThe speaker exhausted, sank into a peaceful slumber, and when the\nsetting sun illuminated the chamber, its golden beams fell upon the\nface of death.\n\nThey laid the mother in the old family vault; husband and children\nbrought immortelles and roses for her coffin, and left her to her\ncold but safe repose.\n\nThe Marshal did as his dying wife had counselled, and kept Eva in the\nparental castle till her sixteenth summer.  The bud had blossomed\ninto a wonderful flower, the pride of the desolate father's heart.\n\nBut the time has arrived when the soldier must go forth to battle,\nand Eva is sent to her aunt and uncle for a visit of indefinite\nlength.  At this period, undecided as to Eva's home, and depressed\nwith fears and anxieties regarding her future, business calls the\nMarshal to the Court of Brunswick,[4] then held in the ancient Castle\nof Wolfenb\u00fcttel,[5] and this visit is destined to decide the fate of\nthe youthful Eva.\n\n\n[4] _Bruno's Wyck_--Bruno's settlement, or town.\n\n[5] _Wolfenb\u00fcttel_--wolf's cave.\n\n\nThe piety and amiability of the Duchess Maria made such a deep\nimpression on the mind of the statesman and soldier, that he\nentreated her to become the guardian of his motherless daughter.  Her\nTransparency consented, and Eva became first lady-in-waiting to the\nDuchess.\n\nLittle did the father imagine he was thrusting his child into the\nwolf's den, for a worse example of a false and neglectful husband\nthan Henry the Younger of Brunswick-Wolfenb\u00fcttel it were not easy to\nfind.\n\nThe Duke and Duchess were in no wise congenial spirits.  Henry was a\nhandsome man of fiery temper and hot blood, loved both chase and\nfeud, possessed more physical strength and beauty than mind or\nvirtue, troubled himself little with the duties of government or the\ninterests of his subjects, leaving affairs of State to his minister.\n\nHenry had no sympathy for prayers and church-going, neglected his\npale, youthful wife, seldom visiting the wing of the gloomy old\ncastle she occupied except when etiquette demanded his presence.\n\nIn this deplorable state of things Eva von Trotta appeared at Court.\nShe stood in the courtyard by her father's war-horse to take leave of\nhim, promised to be good, which promise she fully intended to keep;\nthe stern old soldier kissed her, sprang on his horse, brushed away a\ntear which defied all his iron firmness, stormed over the drawbridge,\nand never saw his fair child again.\n\nSuddenly it began to be reported at Court that Henry had bridged over\nthe cleft between himself and his high-born wife.  He was seen every\nevening at her side in the stone balcony, whence they could look down\ninto the courtyard and witness the sports of the courtiers and the\ndrilling of steeds, and his conjugal attentions were most edifying to\nwitness; while the new maid of honour Eva stood behind the seat of\nher ducal mistress, a picture of bewildering loveliness.\n\nBut the Court did not permit itself long to be deceived by the royal\nhypocrite.  It was not the pale, pious Duchess who had so suddenly\nfascinated Henry, but the maid of honour, radiant in black Genoa\nvelvet and silver spangles, into whose clear blue eyes Henry's brown\nones looked so willingly.\n\nIt soon became perfectly well known to Henry when Eva was on duty in\nthe antechamber of the Duchess, and half-hidden by the heavy hangings\nof the deep windows, he chatted with her by the hour, and no\nfavourite maid dared tell her royal mistress who entertained the\nlady-in-waiting while she sat alone.\n\nAt last, one day, the Mistress of the Robes, who had more than once\nreproved Eva for frivolity, and whose curiosity had got the better of\nher dignity, listens and hears Henry ask Eva to meet him in the\nevening at ten o'clock in the linden all\u00e9e for a walk to the arbour\nat the end of it, and the thoughtless girl consents.  At the same\ntime she sees Henry present her with a watch and his portrait.\n\nHorrified, she at once informs the Duchess of this proposed\nrendezvous, and persuades her to accompany her in disguise to the\narbour at the appointed hour, where, concealed behind the thick\nfoliage, she might learn what was best to be done.\n\nLater on this same day Eva sat alone in her boudoir gazing at the\nportrait, an exquisite enamel set in diamonds.  It was a beautiful\nchamber, adorned with frescoes and paintings, mirror panellings,\nbooks, and flowers.\n\nOpposite where Eva was sitting hung a life-size portrait of Duke\nHenry the Lion in tapestry.  The old nurse Magda had just left her\nbeloved young mistress, and Eva held the portrait in her hand, while\na tumult of emotions shook her heart.\n\nShe was interrupted by a knock, and slipped the portrait hastily out\nof sight.  It was her foster-sister Alice, who was her favourite maid.\n\n\"Why do you disturb me at this hour, Alice?\" inquired her mistress,\nwho struggled to conceal her emotion.  \"You know I am in the habit of\nspending this hour alone.\"\n\n\"Pardon, gracious lady, but I have something to tell you which admits\nof no delay,\" replied Alice, who had caught a glimpse of the\nportrait, and noticed the agitation of her mistress.  \"I wish to\nleave the Court.  It is my wish to enter the convent of Gandersheim.\nI intend to become a nun.\"\n\n\"Become a nun!  When did that insane idea enter your head?\"\n\n\"I am weary of the Court.  I am unhappy here.  Let me go.\"\n\nAlice did not tell her of the Court gossip she had overheard, and\nthat grief and pain drove her to the convent.\n\n\"Magda will not leave me, Alice; why will you?  Stay with me.  You\nknew my dear mamma; you are nearly of my own age; I should miss you\nsadly.\"\n\n\"No, I have determined to take the veil; it is my calling.  Let me\ngo:\"\n\nEva sighed, and replied, rising and laying her hand on Alice's\nshoulder, at the same time glancing nervously at the portrait of\nHenry the Lion, \"I am not happy either, dear Alice.  Oh!  I wish I\nhad never left my uncle's castle, and the protection of my brothers.\nWhy was I doomed to lose my mother?  You seem to me more like a\nfriend than a servant, Alice; how can I do without you, my\nfoster-sister?\"\n\nAgain Eva paused and listened.  Suddenly the portrait of Henry the\nLion advanced into the room, and Duke Henry stood in the opening it\nhad left in the wall.  Eva flushed, turned pale, and stood in\nconfusion, while Alice looked on in bewildered amazement.  But Henry\nsaid carelessly, \"The Duchess is coming, Fr\u00e4ulein von Trotta; I am\nonly a minute in advance.\"\n\nAlice saluted and retired, muttering to herself, \"It is true, then,\nand worse than I thought.  A secret door.  And what does that\nportrait mean?  I wonder if mother knows all this?\"\n\nThe following day Alice departed for the convent.\n\nThe castle clock was ringing ten when two muffled figures stole\nthrough a postern gate of the garden wall behind it into the park,\nand, concealed by the darkness, hastened through by-paths to the\nlime-tree arbour.  Here they waited some time, when at last steps and\nvoices were heard approaching through the lime-tree avenue.\n\nEva was saying, \"Do not ask me to stay at Court, Henry.  I cannot, I\nmust go at once.  The courtiers are talking; Alice insists on leaving\nme; I know it is out of sorrow she condemns me who am so far\ninnocent.  Think of my youth--I am only sixteen.  My mother is dead,\nmy father absent.  Oh, I cannot deceive the Duchess.  She has been so\nkind to me, and she is so good.  I shall return your presents, which\nI should never have accepted, and go back to my uncle's little\ncastle.\"\n\n\"And forsake me, and leave me to loneliness and wretchedness?  Oh\nEva! pity me and remain.\"\n\n\"And bring disgrace and misery and ruin upon you and myself, and\nanguish to the Duchess?  Maria's royal father is all-powerful with\nthe Kaiser, who would betray you to the Pope, and you would be\nexcommunicated.  I do love you, Henry--but--it is too late.  If we\nhad met earlier, we might have belonged to each other.  I would live\nshut out from the world for ever for you, and you alone, and, safe\nfrom disturbance and discovery, would be happy.\"\n\n\"How very noble and self-sacrificing we would be!\" exclaimed the\nDuchess, coming forward from her concealment.  \"And such is my reward\nfor my affection bestowed upon a motherless maiden!  To such a\nshameful conversation must I listen between her and my husband.  But\nI have the power to punish you both, and I will use it;\" and the\nDuchess and her attendant speedily disappeared in the darkness.\n\nThe storm had broken upon them.  The two figures stood in the arbour,\nmotionless as marble, while Maria hastened to send messengers\nimmediately to her father and other princes, acquainting them of\nHenry's perfidy.\n\nBut Eva at bay seems suddenly to have changed her character.  She\nforgets her former scruples, and with a single move checkmates her\nrival, but at what a cost!  She proposes perhaps the most\nextraordinary plan that ever entered a human brain, and all the more\nastounding as coming from a girl of sixteen.\n\n\"What is to become of me?\" at last exclaimed Eva, starting from the\nstupor of terror the sudden appearance of the Duchess had caused.\n\"There is not a place where I can go where disgrace and shame will\nnot follow me.\"\n\n\"I will seek a divorce, declare the children of the Duchess\nillegitimate, and we will be married.\"\n\n\"Under the ban of Kaiser and Pope!\" cried Eva, wringing her hands in\ndespair.\n\nAfter a pause, in which Eva remained buried in thought, she resumed,\n\"I have a plan, Henry, but the world shall know nothing of our\nsecret.  You shall give me your left hand, but I _must die_--I mean\n_seem_ to.  I shall resign my office at Court and retire, ostensibly\nto return to my uncle's.  On the journey I will be attacked with the\nplague in the convent of Gandersheim, and die in a few hours; and\nthen there must be a public funeral; the world and the Court shall\nsee me buried.  I leave the carrying out of the details to you.\nLeave Wolfenb\u00fcttel on some plausible plea, and in your absence I will\nretire.  Dead to the world, I will live only for you.\"\n\nHenry, enraptured, caught her in his arms.  \"My darling Eva! will you\nindeed do that?  Oh! then I am happy, and could defy the world.  Here\nis the seal of our bond,\" and he placed a diamond ring on her finger.\n\nThey walked arm-in-arm under the silent lindens back to the castle.\nThe moon had risen, and bathed the night in her mystic light; the\nstars looked mournfully down on the betrayed maiden.  Was there no\nhand to save her from this ruinous step--no voice to warn the\nbetrayer of his sin?\n\nThe following day, after a stormy scene between the Duke and Duchess,\nHenry left the castle to attend to business, as he said, and on his\nreturn found that the new maid of honour had resigned her office and\nleft the Court.\n\nThe Capuchin convent of Gandersheim, situated in the Duchy of\nBrunswick, on the river Gande, enjoyed an equal rank with the abbeys\nof Dr\u00fcbeck and Quedlinburg.  The Abbesses of these three mitred\nconvents[6] had a seat and vote in the Reichstag, and during the\nearliest period of their existence the abbesses were of the\nblood-royal, and only princesses and daughters of the nobility were\nadmitted into their sacred retirement.\n\n\n[6] _Mitred convents_--those which had a right to a seat and vote in\nthe Reichstag.\n\n\nThis imperial convent Gandersheim, once endowed with such wealth and\npower, was founded by Duke Ludolf of Saxony in the last half of the\nninth century.  It obtained its greatest power under the Ottos, and\nthe imperial princesses were often sent here for their education, or\nfor security in times of danger.  To this ancient convent I must beg\nmy readers to accompany me.\n\nIt is midnight.  A fearful tempest sweeps over the mountains.  The\n_Wilde J\u00e4ger_[7] is out with his ghostly train, and _Tut-Ursel's_[8]\nhowlings ring through the darkness.\n\n\n[7] _Wild Hunter_.\n\n[8] _Tut Ursel_--Tooting Ursula--the nun who broke her vow.\n\n\nThe rain beats against the windows of the convent as if it would\nforce an entrance, flashes of lightning illuminate the night, and the\nthunder shakes the old building in its fury, as if it would uproot\nits very foundations.\n\nBefore a convent altar stands a bridal pair.  The bridegroom places\nthe nuptial ring on the bride's hand; kneeling they receive the\npriest's blessing, the young wife rises Frau von Kirchberg, and after\nremaining some days in concealment in the convent, she escapes in the\ndisguise of a monk to Schloss Staufenburg.\n\nMeanwhile tidings reach the Court at Wolfenb\u00fcttel that the retired\nCourt lady has been attacked with a virulent plague on her homeward\njourney, and has expired after a painful illness of only a few hours.\n\nThe Court is aghast at the news; Henry retires to his private\napartments.  Duchess Maria, softened to hear of the lady Eva's death,\nsends members of her Court to attend the funeral.\n\nAnd now we have the second act of the drama in old Gandersheim.\n\nThe convent church is brilliant with a thousand tapers.  High on a\nrich catafalque before the great altar stands Eva's coffin in a blaze\nof light.  The face of the dead is of a wondrous beauty, the long\nbrown curls fall over the breast, the small white hands, marked with\nplague-spots, are crossed above the still, cold heart.\n\nThe nuns, the Abbess at their head, chant the mournful dirge, and the\norgan weeps and wails as if it were the very soul of sorrow.  The\ncourtiers wear the deepest black, and are completely overwhelmed with\nthe awful solemnity of the scene.\n\nThrough all the ceremony the novice Alice seems like one in a dream.\nThe suddenness of the thing is to her incomprehensible.  Only a few\ndays ago she took leave of her foster-sister, and now she gazes on\nthe dead!  Finally the coffin is lowered; they are about to close it\nfor ever, when Alice, before the Abbess or the two priests, who alone\nknew the truth, can prevent her, rushes forward with a cry of agony\nand kisses the cold hands in her sorrow.  Suddenly she discovers they\nare only wax!  Conscious of the danger to herself if she betrays her\ndiscovery, she weeps and sobs louder than ever, and must be almost\nforcibly removed.  They bear the coffin to the convent vaults, the\ncourtiers return to the Court to picture the marvellous beauty of the\ndeparted Eva to the Duke and Duchess.\n\nIn the meantime novice Alice is no novice.  She ponders over the\nmatter in secret.\n\n\"Eva is not dead,\" she reflects.  \"Where can she be?  What can it all\nmean?  I will find her if I walk every inch of the Harz mountains.  I\nwill disguise myself as an old woman, a seller of lace; thus I can\ngain admittance everywhere.  But I must get away from here without\nexciting suspicion.\"\n\nAs the result of these soliloquies, Alice informs the Abbess she must\nrelinquish her plan of becoming a nun, at least for the present, and\ngo to her mother, who must be in great distress at the sudden loss of\nher nursling.\n\nBut on her arrival at the castle of Wolfenb\u00fcttel, Magda has\ndisappeared, and no one knows what has become of her.\n\nFor a period of four years, Alice, disguised in a grey wig, with an\nartificial hump on her back, sought Eva, wandering from castle to\ncastle, from town to town through the mountains; but without\ndiscovering the faintest trace of either Eva or nurse Magda.\n\nThe princes of the House of Brunswick were, as I said before,\npassionate lovers of the chase, and Henry the Younger was no\nexception to his race.  But suddenly this penchant increased to such\nan extent that his time was almost entirely absorbed with this\npastime.\n\nHe began to be absent weeks and even months in his favourite Harz.\n\nAt length these long absences excited the suspicions of the Court and\nthe Duchess.  Tales came to their ears of a lady in white, who had\nbeen seen at the deserted old Staufenburg.  Spies were sent out\nseveral times to watch the castle, but no discovery was made.  Eva\nremained dead for the world.\n\nAlice, who heard these reports, knowing what others did not, that Eva\nwas not in the vaults of the convent at Gandersheim, resolved to make\na visit to the Staufenburg, thinking very likely the reports of the\nlady in white were not simply wild mountain tales, but having some\ntruth in them.  This she felt to be all the more probable, since in\nall her ramblings from town to castle no trace of the lost girl was\nto be found.\n\nAccordingly Alice made her way to the Staufenburg, and after watching\nfrom the thick woods three whole days she saw her mother, Magda,\nissue from a small postern door in the outer walls, so hidden by\ntrees and underbrush as to be unseen when shut.\n\nAlice hastened to meet her, secure of her disguise, and told her she\nhad a special message from the Master to the Lady Eva, and must speak\nwith her alone.\n\nMagda, terrified, exclaimed, \"Who are you?  Whom do you mean by the\nLady Eva?\"\n\n\"I am one who knows all the secret, and that the beautiful maid of\nhonour, Eva von Trotta, does not lie in her coffin.  Better if she\ndid.  But my message is pressing and admits of no delay.  My orders\nare to deliver it to the lady alone.  Admit me here, and leave the\ndoor unlocked that I may let myself out again.\"\n\nMagda stared at the old hump-backed woman and her basket, and\nhesitated; but seeing she knew the secret, at last concluded all was\nright.\n\n\"Follow me,\" she said; and opening the postern door and pointing out\nto her an outer flight of stone steps leading down to a garden,\ncontinued, \"mount those steps leading to the stone balcony.  You will\nfind the lady you seek in her boudoir, which you enter from that open\ndoor.  She is alone.  I will wait for you here, for I dare not leave\nthe gate open.  It might be discovered, for I have seen people\nprowling about here lately a good deal.\"\n\nAlice did as directed.  Arrived on the balcony she paused and gazed\nat the graceful but passive figure half reclining in a fauteuil in\nfull view of the mountains.\n\nEva is now in her twenty-first year, and lovelier than ever.  Her\nface and hands are so white as to seem almost transparent; her curls\nfall in rich masses over her white silken robe; her blue eyes have a\nstrange far-away look in them that strikes Alice to the heart.\n\nSuddenly Eva becomes aware of the presence of a stranger, starts out\nof her pensive reverie and exclaims, \"Who are you?  How did you get\nin the garden?\"\n\n\"I met a servant at the postern gate in the wall,\" replied Alice in a\nconstrained voice.  \"I told her I had a special message for you.\"\n\n\"From Henry?  Then you know all!  Quick! quick!  What is it?\"\n\nAlice hesitated, for she was so moved at sight of her playmate and\nfoster-sister, she could not command her voice to speak.\n\n\"Why are you so long?  Speak.  I will reward you richly if you bring\nme good news from Duke Henry.\"\n\n\"I do not bring you a message from Henry of Brunswick, but from God,\"\nsaid Alice, slowly and solemnly.  \"Leave this castle, forget Henry,\nreturn to the path of duty and virtue, and seek forgiveness.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" cried the terrified Eva, springing from her seat.  \"If\nthe Duke did not send you, who did?  Oh!  I am betrayed!  Magda!\nMagda!  What have you done?\"\n\n\"Do not fear, White Lady of the Staufenburg, I will not betray you.\nI have sought you four long years, because I love you, and would save\nyou from a life-long wretchedness.  I was at your imagined funeral,\nand discovered the farce, but no mortal save myself knows of my\ndiscovery.\n\n\"Who are you?  Why do you come here?  to threaten, to torment me?  Do\nyou want money?\"\n\n\"Why do I come?  You are in danger.  The Duchess has spies; stories\nof a White Lady in the Staufenberg are come even to the Court.  The\nDuke's long absences excite suspicion.  He is watched.  Think of the\nstorm that will burst upon you both if you are discovered.  Leave\nhere before it is too late.\"\n\n\"Why do you interest yourself for a lonely creature like me, dead and\nburied?\"\n\n\"You do not know me--how could you?  My own mother did not recognise\nme,\" and Alice threw off hump and wig, and stood before Eva, a tall,\nwell-formed girl, nearly her own age.\n\n\"Alice!\" cried Eva, rushing to her, and seizing her in her arms.  \"I\nthought you were a nun in the convent of Gandersheim.  You are come\nto stay with me.  Oh! say you are come to stay.\"\n\n\"No, I will not stay here.  I have sought you all this time as an old\nlace-seller, to warn and save you.  If you will give up Henry and\nleave this den of sin, I will follow you wherever you go.  Oh! what\nwords can I use to induce you to leave here?  Eva!  Eva! it is your\nfoster-sister, your truest friend, who entreats you.  Henry is your\nworst enemy.  He has trodden your honour and name in the dust, but\nyou consented, and destroyed what you might have been for ever.  But\nrepentance is left, and there is all eternity to come.\n\n\"How can you stand before God? how can you dare pray?  You desecrated\nthe holiest; virtue and innocence you have made the tools of vice;\nyou have stolen the _monstrance_ from the altar; you swore a false\noath before the altar of the Highest.  Talk of a left-handed\nmarriage.  It is an insult to Heaven's laws.  Eva!  Eva! once my pure\nand dear playmate, the darling of your dead mother's heart, come away\nwith me now--_now_.  No one is here to betray our flight.  We will go\nto some distant land, and I will stay with you so long as we both\nlive.  Follow your true friend.  It is the voice of Heaven you hear.\nForget the unworthy murderer of your youth and purity.\"\n\nEva trembled and turned pale.  \"What would become of my children?\"\nshe cried, wringing her hands in anguish.\n\n\"Children! have you children?\"\n\n\"Yes, three.  See, that is my noble Eitel with the long brown curls,\nplaying in the garden.\"\n\n\"God will protect them.  You can do nothing for them even if you\nremain.  They are in the power of their father.  Come, come; oh,\nlisten to the voice of warning before it is too late,\" and Alice\nseized Eva's hand as if she would lead her away.\n\n\"I cannot!  I cannot!  I love Henry.  Love his princely magnanimity,\nhis bravery, his noble pride--even that which others hate in him I\nlove.  For him I have robbed the Duchess of her husband, deceived my\nbrave father and my brothers, desecrated God's altar, sacrificed\nlife, youth, honour, happiness; I live only for him.  I cannot\ndeceive him, cannot atone for one sin with another.\"\n\n\"I must save you, then, by telling your brothers where you are.  They\nwill punish the vile Henry before the whole German Empire.\"  She\nreleased Eva's hand and turned to go.\n\nWith a scream Eva sprang forward, threw herself down before Alice,\nclasped her knees and cried, \"Be merciful, Alice; have pity on my\nmisery.  God is merciful.  Do not you be cruel.  Do not betray me.  I\nam crushed and bruised, the peace of my mind and heart destroyed.  I\ncould not be more wretched.  What good would it do to betray me? and\nin betraying Henry, you destroy me, rob me of the only earthly\nprotection I can ever hope to enjoy.  Magda is a mother to my\nchildren as she was to me.  She would not betray me.\"\n\n\"My mother was your nurse, hence has a mother's feelings for you.  I\nwill not stay here.  If I should see Henry, I should forget all\nrespect for his person as Duke, and give him a piece of my mind.  I\nwill keep your secret, but I warn you of a coming-danger.  Then I can\nbe of more service to you without than if I stayed here.  God help\nyou.  I will not betray you.\"  And hastily assuming her disguise, for\nfootsteps were heard approaching, she hurried away.\n\nThree years passed away after this interview, and Eva remained\nsecurely hidden; but Henry's absences from Court grew longer and more\nfrequent, and at last one of the courtiers resolved to penetrate the\nmystery.\n\nHe followed Henry to the Staufenburg, watched four whole days in the\nthick woods, and the evening of the fourth day, to his utter\namazement, recognised Eva von Trotta in the stone balcony by Henry's\nside.  The secret was out!  He hastened to the Duchess and told her\nwhat he had seen.  Maria sent authorised messengers to the convent of\nGandersheim, the coffin bearing Eva's name was broken open, and lo! a\nwooden figure with wax mask and hands!\n\nThe Duchess communicates this discovery to the King of Wurtemburg,\nher father, letters of reproof are sent to Henry from him and the\nKaiser, and the Pope threatens him with excommunication.\n\nHenry hastens to Eva with the dreadful news; but Alice has been\nbefore her, and Eva is prepared with another plan.\n\n\"Tell them to search the Staufenburg, and they will discover their\nmistake.  Tell them I am dead--it is true.  Magda shall conduct the\nchildren to Kirchberg, and with Alice's aid they and every trace of\nmy having been here will vanish.  I have a secure hiding-place.\"\n\n\"Where, Eva?\"\n\n\"You shall know to-morrow on your return from Gandersheim, Henry.\"\n\nShe took an affectionate and reluctant leave of him, calling him back\ntwo or three times before she could let him go.\n\nThen she sent for her children, wept over them, and gave her\ndirections to Magda and Alice, and cut off Eitel's long curls that he\nmight not be recognised, his resemblance to her with his long hair\nbeing so striking.\n\nAfter she had dismissed them, Eva returned to her boudoir and wrote a\nnote to Henry.  Then she took a small flask from her writing-table,\npoured its contents in a glass of water, and reclining in her\nfauteuil, drank it.\n\nHenry, on his return the following morning, hastened to Eva's boudoir.\n\nSeeing Eva seated, and not springing up as usual to welcome him, he\nsupposed she had fallen asleep--and so she had; but a sight of her\nface revealed the dreadful truth.  She had taken poison.  The empty\nflask lay on the writing-table beside her; near it a note addressed\nto himself.  He tore it open.  It only contained a few words.\n\n\n\"I told you, my beloved Henry, I had a secure hiding-place.  I meant\nthe grave.  Tell them I am dead.  They cannot follow where I am\ngoing.  I would not bring ruin on you and your dominions.  Oh, Henry!\nbe good to my children, and never attempt to make Eitel your heir.\nMy sin was loving you.  Farewell.\n\n\"Yours in death, EVA.\"\n\n\nDuke Henry had the broken-hearted girl--only twenty-three--buried in\nthe garden of the Staufenburg, returned to Court and insisted on a\nsearch of the castle.  They did search, of course discovering\nnothing, and the mystery was still impenetrable.\n\nThe Duchess Maria died a few months after her rival, and nothing was\never known of the well-guarded secret, until Henry himself betrayed\nit in his partiality for his favourite son Eitel Henry--Eva's only\nson and eldest child.  The Duke besought the Pope to recognise him as\nthe heir to the ducal throne, offering a heavy bribe.  His Holiness\nconsented, the more readily since the Duke's lawful heir, Henry\nJulius, had become a Protestant.\n\nBut Eitel proved himself, as his mother had said, noble in character\nas in name.  He absolutely refused his consent to this injustice, and\nlived in retirement on the estate Kirchberg, which the Duke had given\nhim, the name of which Eva's children bore.  The Kirchbergs, however,\nsoon became extinct.\n\nThe learned Duke Henry Julius, founder of a university, never forgot\nthe refusal of his noble illegitimate brother to deprive him of his\nbirthright, and ever remained his warm friend.\n\n\nThere were two castles in the Harz mountains, both of which bore the\nname of Staufenburg; that near Zorge, an hour and a half from the\nbeautiful ruins of Convent Walkenried.  It is said to have been\noccupied during the Thirty Years' War.  When built or by whom\ndestroyed are matters of conjecture.  The Staufenburg of our tale is\nnear Gittelde.  Some derive the name from the idol _Stuvo_, or\n_Stuffo_, once set up on the mountain.  The mountain was so steep\nthat _Staufen_, or _Stufen_--steps--were used in climbing it, hence\nprobably the name.\n\n\n\n\nThe Weingarten H\u00f6hle and the Three Men.\n\nThere is perhaps no cave in all Germany concerning which so many\nlegends and traditions are in the mouth of the people as this\nWeingartenloch.\n\nA plank crosses over a black piece of water from the outer portion of\nthe cave further into the darkness, far from human help and human\nvoices.\n\nThe tradition is, that whoever crosses that beam will be given over\nto the Evil One, who governs there, and sits, between heaps of gold\nand silver, by a table, with a great book before him, in which he\nwrites the name of every person who approaches him.\n\nBut when three enter together and draw lots with one another, two of\nthem may depart laden with treasures, and only the third, upon whom\nthe lot has fallen, must remain behind, and is torn in a thousand\npieces by the demon.\n\nTwo men from some distant country had often entered the cave, and had\nalways succeeded in enticing a third to accompany them, who always\nfell into the hands of the _Gott-sei-bei-uns_, since they so arranged\nit that the lot fell to him.\n\nFinally, it struck the inhabitants as something very remarkable that\nthose who had entered the cave with the two strangers never returned,\nand henceforth they failed to find a follower.\n\nThen they entered the hut of a poor man in Dorf Osterhagen, who had a\nwife and eight children, and challenged him, with brilliant promises,\nto follow them into the cave.\n\nThe man, whose name was Schlosser, felt little inclination for the\nexpedition, and absolutely refused, even if they offered him eighty\nThaler.\n\nBut the wife called her husband into another room, and said to him:\n\"Thou knowest that I love thee dearly, and would sink from sorrow and\nanguish if thou shouldst be torn from me; but we have eight children,\nand no bread in the cupboard, and no money, and with the money the\nstrangers offer thee we should have enough for our whole lives; so go\nwith them, and be sure no evil will befall thee.\"\n\nAnd she opened a cupboard, took out a plant, sewed it in his shirt in\nthree different places, made a sign of the cross above each place,\nand said, \"That which I have sewed in thy shirt is _origanum_, a sure\ndefence against all enchantment, and even the devil; so go in peace,\nin the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.  Amen.\"\n\nAnd Schlosser embraced his wife and children, and went with the two\nmen, who looked, scornfully laughing, at each other, after having\nlaid eighty glittering new Thaler on the table.\n\nThey wandered on until they had reached the beam--the fatal\nbeam--where they stood still, and the men warned Schlosser solemnly,\nif his life was dear to him, to utter no sound till they had passed\nthe next two caves.\n\nSchlosser promised, and the three crossed cautiously the dangerous\nbridge, and entered a cave filled with the most horrible vermin.\n\nBombinas and salamanders seemed to be giving a ball.  Bats fluttered\nthick as a hailstorm through the air.  Terrible serpents and dragons\ncoiled hissing around each other.  The most hideous brood of nature\nwas flocked together, and swarmed around the feet of the three men\nentering, as if to form a wall to hinder their entrance.\n\nWith firmness the three went directly forward toward a second cave,\nwhich was large and lofty, and lighted with a magical splendour.\n\nAt the right, against the rocky wall, shimmering with gold and\nsilver, stood a couch of red velvet embroidered in gold, and on the\nsilken cushions lay a sleeping maiden of such super-terrestrial\nbeauty, that Schlosser could not take his eyes from the picture, and\nwas drawn forward by force by his companions.  In the next cave they\nstood still, drew a long breath, looked anxiously at each other, and\nput down their lamps.\n\n\"Now, dear friend,\" said one of the men to Schlosser, \"the moment is\ncome.  In a quarter of an hour we may become rich and happy, or for\never lost in perdition.  Immeasurable wealth is in the cave we are\nabout to enter, but only two of us can become possessed of the\naccumulated treasures, or ever see the light of day again; the third,\non whom the lot falls, must remain as a sacrifice to the dark ruler\nof the subterranean world.  Be firm and follow us!\"\n\nSchlosser felt as if paralysed by lightning at the terrible\ndisclosure, and without knowing what he did, he followed the two, who\nwent on before, and knocked three times on a small iron door.\n\nCracking, it sprang open, and a blood-red splendour shone forth in\nthe great space which they now entered.  Gold, silver, and precious\nstones lay in colossal heaps on every side, and the place sparkled\nand shone so, that even the anxious Schlosser's heart was filled with\njoy.\n\nBut now from a corner a man of lofty stature came forward, with\nsparkling, burning eyes, black, bristly hair, dark, bushy eyebrows,\nand a crooked, arched hawk-nose.\n\nIn a frightful, peculiar manner he twitched his yellow face, and his\ngarments were strange and odd.  A fiery-red, gold-bordered mantle\nhung in bunchy folds from his shoulders; a broad, drooping Spanish\nhat, with a long, waving red plume, sat sideways on his head, and a\nlong rapier hung at his side.\n\nWith a slight bow he passed the three men, and vanished through the\niron door by which they had entered.\n\nThe two men now challenged Schlosser to help them fill their sacks,\nand as soon as that was done they returned through the iron door,\nwhich shut with a loud crash behind them.\n\n\"I cannot tell how it is with me to-day,\" said one stranger to his\nfriend.  \"I am filled with fear, and my teeth chatter, and it creeps\nlike fire in my veins.  If only some misfortune does not meet us!\"\n\n\"Thou art very foolish,\" replied the other.  \"Is it not the\neighteenth time that we have been here, and we have always known how\nto turn and shuffle that the lot fell on the accompanying third\nperson?  And where could we have found a better companion than that\nfellow there, out of whose eyes the most charming simplicity and\nstupidity look, so that a child might deceive him?\"\n\nHe would have added more, but Schlosser, who went on before, uttered\na cry of horror, and the hearts of the two friends sank within them,\nalthough what they saw they had seen already eighteen times.\n\n\nOn the fatal beam over the foaming water stood the devil himself,\nwith all the terrors peculiar to his dark majesty.  Great burning\neyes rolled like wheels of flaming fire in his awful face, a\nshaggy-haired hide clothed the spirit of the bottomless pit, and the\nfearful claws were extended to seize his prey.\n\nWith trembling hand the eldest of the two strangers produced the\ncards; but however falsely he shuffled them the death-card fell to\nhim, and he began to quake, and grew as pale as the chalk of the wall.\n\nUnder the pretext that something had been omitted, the stranger\nshuffled again; but, to his terror, the death-lot fell, not upon\nSchlosser, but his own friend.\n\n\"The third time it will surely fall on the fellow,\" thought the\nstranger to himself, and began under all sorts of excuses to shuffle\nagain.\n\nThe foul fiend raised himself to his greatest height, breathing\nflames of fire from mouth and nostrils, and cried in a hollow,\nsmothered voice, like the sound of distant thunder: \"Only once more\ncan ye draw lots, no more.  Over that person there,\" pointing to\nSchlosser, \"I have no power; he is defended, by a plant which he\ncarries on his person, from every danger!\"\n\nThe two old sinners turned paler than ever, and looked despairingly\nat each other; but the devil waved his hand, and they drew lots for\nthe third time.  The lot fell on him on whom it had fallen the first\ntime.\n\nLike a tempest Satan threw himself on the despairing man, seized him\nwith his claws, rose with him in the air, and tore him in pieces.\n\nWith swelling breast, breathless, Schlosser till now had looked on\nall that had passed; but at this fearful sight the last spark of\nfirmness failed him, he closed his eyes and sank lifeless on the\nground.\n\nWhen he awoke he was lying before the entrance to the cave; near him\na sack filled with beaten gold and silver.\n\nHe looked in vain for his companion, who must have already gone away,\nif the terror caused by the awful fate of his friend had not killed\nhim.\n\nSchlosser was as if paralysed, and could scarcely drag himself to the\nvillage near by.\n\nHe, however, soon recovered, moved from Osterhagen to Andreasburg,\nwhere he built a handsome house, and never forgot that it was through\nhis wife's forethought that wealth and happiness had been won.\n\n\n\n\nThe Bell-Founder of Stolberg.\n\nThe traditions of the apprentices' pillar in Roslin Chapel, and of\nthe bell-founder in Breslau, bear a strong resemblance to this of\nStolberg.\n\nThere was once a bell-founder in Stolberg who was a master worthy of\nhonour, skilled in counsel and deed.\n\nHe had already cast many bells, yellow and white, the poem tells us,\nfor churches and chapels, to the praise and glory of God.\n\nAnd his bells rang so full, so clear and pure in tone; he cast love\nand faith in with the metal.\n\nAnd Stolberg desired also a work from his hand, and the master\nemployed every means to produce a perfect bell for his place of\nresidence.\n\nBut it was as if the Evil One had a hand too in the work, for the\ncast was a perfect failure.\n\nVexed, he threw the bell aside, commanded his sixteen-years-old\napprentice to prepare everything for a new cast on a certain day, so\nsoon as he returned, and then departed to visit his father, who was\nalso a bell-founder, to relate his failure and ask his advice.\n\nThe thoughtful apprentice reflected unceasingly on the cause of the\nfailure of his so skilful master in the last bell.\n\nAfter long speculation he discovered the cause, sprang up joyfully,\nworked day and night, and soon the bell stood without a flaw before\nthe youth's delighted eyes.\n\nHis heart beating high with joy, he went to meet his master, and\nfound him sitting on a stone resting from the fatigue of his long\nwalk.  This stone tradition still points out in the Steigerthal,\nmoss-grown, with a bell and a club hewn in it.\n\nThe apprentice could not keep his secret, and with a countenance\nshining with joy told his master that he had already cast another\nbell, which was perfect, and of the sweetest tone.\n\nThen the veins on the master's forehead swelled with shame; rage and\nfury to find himself excelled by his pupil filled his usually mild\nheart.\n\nHe sprang from the stone, seized his cane, and gave the youth such a\npowerful blow on his head that he sank bleeding, with glassy eyes, in\nthe grass.\n\nThe master fled as if chased by the furies.\n\nHis anger cooled at the sight of the blood; fearful pangs of\nconscience seized the strong man, he repented his rash deed, turned\nhurriedly back, hoping he might yet quench the stream of blood, and\nsave the unhappy boy.\n\nHe had soon reached him, but no help was possible.  Despairing he\nfled.\n\nUnsettled and a fugitive like Cain, he wandered the whole night in\nthe forest, and when the morning dawned he had made his decision.\n\nHe returned to Stolburg, presented himself before the tribunal,\naccused himself of his crime, and demanded punishment.\n\nDeep was the regret, but blood demands blood, and he heard his\nsentence of death with unmoved composure.\n\n\n\n\nThe Colt's Cave.\n\nDuring the Seven Years' War the soldiers stole all the horses.\n\nA farmer concealed a handsome colt in a cave in the Steigethal, or\nvalley of the Steige, and fed it with great care.  After the\ndeparture of the enemy he hastened to the cave to take home the\nanimal, but it had grown so much it could no longer go through the\nentrance, and he was compelled to kill it.  And the cave is called\nthe Colt's Cave unto this day.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of St. Christopher.\n\nIn the Goslar Cathedral, of which now but a small remnant remains,\nonce existed a colossal wooden statue of this renowned Saint with the\nChrist-Child on his back.\n\nSt. Christopher once walked from Goslar to Halberstadt and Harzburg,\nand on the way shook on the ground a pea which had got into his shoe.\n\nThe pea grew, and became the sandstone rock called the Clus.\n\nThe interior of the rock was hewn into a chapel to the Virgin, which\nwas a shrine of great celebrity.\n\nA Schloss once stood on the Clus, traces of which are still to be\nseen.\n\n\n\n\n  The Maiden's Cave in the Spatenberg, near\n  where once stook the Spatenburg.\n\nA young citizen of Sondershausen had, although honest, industrious,\nand skilful, fallen into great embarrassment.\n\nMerciless creditors threatened with seizure; entire ruin stared him\nin the face; he saw himself already in fancy with wife and children\nabandoned to bitter want.\n\nHe took a walk into the country in order to seek relief for his\noppressed heart for a few short hours.\n\nSoon he was alone with his sorrow in the wood solitude.\n\nHe climbed the G\u00f6ldner, till he had reached the summit of the\nSpatenberg, where the green-grass carpet and the shade of the old\nbeeches invited him to a short repose.\n\nHe might have perhaps given expression to his trouble in loud\nlamentations.\n\nHowever that may be, he at last prepared to go further, when suddenly\nhe observed a lovely maiden, who, clad in mourning garments and\nweeping, sat on a moss-grown stone at the entrance to the\nJungfernloch, or Maiden's Cave.\n\nHis sympathy at this sight was awakened in proportion to his own\nmelancholy.  He could not restrain himself from approaching the\ngraceful figure, and inquiring the cause of her grief.\n\nShe, however, was of opinion that her sorrow was much too great to\npermit of her troubling any one else with it, and declared she could\nonly find a mitigation of her woe in drying up the tears of others.\n\nShe told him she had, unseen, perceived what troubled him, and it\nafforded her soul sweet comfort to know that she could help him.\n\nAfter she had made this statement to the astonished man, she bade him\nfollow her into the cave.\n\nWhen they had gone through several dark, gloomy passages, they\nentered a wonderfully lighted chamber, in the centre of which stood a\nchest filled with gold and treasures, from which the maiden's\ncompanion, at her command, must take as many pieces of money as were\nsufficient for relief from his embarrassment.\n\nAt the same time he must solemnly promise that at the expiration of a\nyear, at a certain hour, he will return the same sum to the same\nplace, because, as a result of his failing to do so, she herself\nwould suffer great injury.\n\nHe promised, and the maiden dismissed him.\n\nOf course he was now freed from his anxiety and distress, and from\nthis day everything he undertook prospered.\n\nNot only was he able to satisfy all the demands of his creditors, but\nalso at the stated time, agreeably with his promise, to return the\nreceived loan.\n\nBut he could not go in his every-day dress to his benefactress, and\nthe untruthful tailor neglected to deliver the red Sunday coat as\npromised.\n\nAt last he determined, though he had failed to reach the spot at the\nfixed hour, not to fail in the day.\n\nAs he climbed the Burgweg--castle road--it seemed to him that the\ntops of the beeches sighed mournfully.  He drew near to the cave with\npainful apprehensions.\n\nNo maiden was to be seen.  He entered the cave, and found himself at\nlast in the lighted chamber.\n\nBut what must he see?  The benevolent maiden lay on the ground dying,\nher countenance distorted with sorrow and pain.\n\nDreadful gloom enveloped the frightened man.  Only the treasure in\nthe chest glittered dismally.\n\nA long-drawn sigh trembled through the chamber.  He threw the\ntoo-late-brought money, at the same time crossing himself, into the\ntrunk, which immediately closed, and with the dead maiden disappeared.\n\nAn awful roaring arose.  Benumbed with terror, he fled from the\nchamber, that fell in behind him, and through the passages, that\nseemed to him suddenly falling into ruins.\n\nA tumbling stone struck him so violently on the heel that he was\nalways obliged to wear slippers after, and from that day he never\nrecovered his spirits.\n\n\n\n\nThe Three Brothers of Zellerfeld.\n\nThere once lived three brothers in Zellerfeld who were hunters.  They\nwent together one day hunting to the Schalk, when the youngest saw\nthree partridges, and shot at one of them.\n\nHe thought he had struck the bird, but it flew away, and he followed\nit to the top of the mountain where it disappeared.\n\nThe young hunter searched the spot carefully where the bird had\nvanished, and found an opening, which he marked, and then went back\nand called his two brothers.\n\nAll three entered the opening, and came soon to a large room\ncontaining a well-served meal on the table, and chairs placed ready.\n\nThe three seated themselves, ate, drank, and found all excellent.\n\nAfter they had partaken of the repast, three beautiful ladies in rich\nattire entered, and told the brothers they were accursed and doomed\nto remain for ever under the earth.  But if they would remain there\nthree years without seeing the light of day, they would be released.\n\nThe ladies promised them the best table during the time, and\nconducted them to see their treasures, and pointing out three casks\nfilled with gold, promised each one.\n\nThey also told them they must now become black, and would only visit\nthem once a year, exhorted the brothers to firmness, and left them.\n\nAt the end of the first year they returned; they were become somewhat\nwhiter.\n\nAt the next visit, at the end of the second year, they were grown\nstill whiter.  They exhorted the brothers earnestly to perseverance\nand again left them.\n\nThe first half of the third year passed happily, but in the last half\nthe eldest brother grew impatient, and asked: \"Why should we remain\nhere any longer?\"\n\nBut the younger reminded them of their promise.  At last the second\nbrother became undecided and restless, and finally the two resolved\nto remain no longer.\n\nThey threatened to murder the youngest if he would not accompany\nthem, and to save his life he yielded to their entreaties.\n\nAt the proposal of the eldest, they took as much of the gold as they\ncould carry with them.\n\nThey reached Zellerfield with their wealth, agreed to keep all a\nsecret, and began to live in luxury, each taking to himself a wife.\n\nThe two elder brothers soon squandered all, but the youngest avoided\ntheir extravagance.\n\nThe two elder, having lost all, determined to return to the treasure\nin the mountains, and compelled the youngest to go with them.\n\nThey entered the familiar chamber with the table and chairs, but all\nwas changed.\n\nEvery object was draped in black, and on the table stood three\nmourning lamps.\n\nThe three ladies entered, now coal-black, and silent, and sad; they\nwere followed by three men, who cried, pointing to the eldest\nbrother, \"Thou perjured rascal!\" seized him, quartered him, and\npacked him in a barrel, likewise the second.\n\nThe youngest looked on in terror; but the ladies exclaimed, \"Thou art\na true friend, and innocent.  Take what thou wilt and go home.  But\nwe must remain here until we find three rescuers.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Raven of Clausthal.\n\nA gentleman in Clausthal had a raven and a maid-servant.\n\nThe raven carried off all the silver spoons, and suspicion fell on\nthe poor girl.  She was tried, and under torture confessed she had\nstolen them.\n\nShe was executed, but before her death declared her innocence.\n\nSoon after new eave-troughs were put on the gentleman's house, and\nthe spoons were all found where the raven had hidden them.\n\n\n\n\nThe Bergm\u00f6nch[1] and Wilder Mann.[2]\n\n[1] _Bergm\u00f6nch_--mountain monk.\n\n[2] _Wilder Mann_--wild man.\n\nThere are numerous traditions of the Bergm\u00f6nch in the mining\ndistricts.\n\nHe is always seen in the dress of a master-miner, with a silver\nmine-lamp in his hand.\n\nIt is said he was a master-miner, and begged to be permitted to\ninspect the mines until the Judgment Day.  The Monk's\nvalley--M\u00f6nchsthal--near Clausthal, was his favourite retreat.\n\nIn St. Andreasberg the tradition is, he was a monk who sought to open\nthe mines there, but failed.\n\nAccording to this tradition, he completed nearly the entire canal at\nthe base of the Rehberg,[3] called the Rehberger Graben, which\nconveys all the water to St. Andreasberg for the working of the\nSamson mine, but became bankrupt through the undertaking.\n\n\n[3] _Rehberg_--stag mountain.\n\n\nMany wild tales are told of his bringing aid to the miners, and to\nthe poor and distressed, and of his severity toward the wrong-doer.\n\nIn the mining town Wildemann there is a tradition of a wild man who\ngave the place its name.\n\nOnce a robber from the Thuringian Forest lived here in a cave with a\nwild woman; they were clothed with moss and the branches of fir-trees.\n\nThe knight Claus, founder of Clausthal, once saw this wild man on the\nWildmann's Cliffs, with a fir-tree, torn up by the roots, in his\nhand, and a bear on his.  back.\n\n\n\n\nThe Nimrod of the Rehbergerklippe.[1]\n\n[1] _Rehbergerklippe_--cliff of the stag mountain.\n\nA legend of this gloomy wild mountain, at the base of which one\ndrives from Clausthal to St. Andreasburg, lingers still with a poetic\ncharm on and around its rocky walls, and is in harmony with its\ndecorations.\n\nIn the grey primeval days dwelt in this savage wilderness a mighty\nhunter, hard and rough as the rocks on which his house stood.\n\nHunting was his pleasure and passion, and daily he ranged, with his\nmen, the wood, which resounded with the barking of dogs and the notes\nof the horn, which filled the clefts and caves of the rocks and\nmountains with a thousand-voiced echo.\n\nNot even the peace of the Sabbath could check the delight of the\nhuntsman in the chase, or restrain him from his continued persecution\nof the animals of the woods.\n\nA pious hermit admonished him frequently, and entreated him not to\ndisturb God's peace of the holy day with his tumult and noise; but\nthe sportsman closed his ears to the warnings of the old man, and the\nhermit returned to his hermitage accompanied by the scornful derision\nof the ungodly hunter.\n\nThe evening of an October Sunday fell softly over the mountains; the\ntops of the fir-trees, rocks, and mountains were bathed in the golden\nsplendour of sunset; on the whole scene lay deep silence, only the\nwaves of the Oder murmured in the distance their eternal song; only\nthe timid game left its secure hiding-place, stole cautiously with\nlight, slow steps out of the thickets, and sought the spicy plants or\nthe cooling spring.\n\nThen resounded suddenly the noise of the hunt in the distance; the\ngame so peacefully refreshing itself fled in terror, and the tumult\nincreased every instant.\n\nA snow-white stag flew with the rapidity of the wind over the\nmountains, pursued by the hunters on foot and on horseback, and\nsurrounded by the barking pack of hounds.\n\nThe ground thundered beneath the horse-hoofs, and the mountains rang\nwith the wild \"hallohs!\" of the riders, the cracking of whips, and\nthe clashing of weapons.\n\nThe hunted stag groaned, and escaped his pursuers with his last\nstrength.\n\nThe noble animal stood breathless on the brink of the abyss which is\ncalled after him the Stag Cliff, and started back in fear and\ntrembling from the black gulf.\n\nAnd louder and nearer thundered the wild call of the hunters, the\nhunting horns came fearfully near, and as the hounds would seize\ntheir prey, the stag, in deathly terror, made the leap into the\nfrightful deeps.\n\nAnd there arose a singular light, a dazzling splendour shone around\nthe hunted animal, and unseen hands bore it softly below into the\nsecure valley.\n\nBut the hunters, with horse and hound, were driven by magical power\nto follow the stag.\n\nFrom the rocky cliff the whole company leaped into the depths, and\nhuge blocks of granite and high pines sank after them and buried\ntheir mangled bodies in eternal night.\n\nFrom that time it has been a haunted spot, full of untold horrors,\nand the wanderer hastens by in fear when darkness is closing in on\nthe mountains.\n\nAnd at midnight, when the death-owl hoots and soars over the vale on\nheavy wing, and the fantastic moonlight transforms the dry trunks of\nthe trees into grey spirits of the night, the giant forms of hunters\nbrush past, and the firs whisper, then roar, and a smothered crash\nrushes on like the swelling waves of the sea.\n\n\n\n\nThe Tanzteich[1] bei Zorge.\n\n[1] _Tanzteich_--dance pond.\n\nOn the spot now covered by the Tanzteich once stood a stately Schloss\nwith lofty walls and battlements.\n\nA rich knight, whose name has been drowned in the stream of time,\ndwelt in it in luxury and splendour.\n\nEvery dawn brought a new festival, and even night was turned into\nday; but neither discipline nor virtue ruled in the brilliant\nassemblages of his numerous guests.\n\nOnce the lord of the castle gave a brilliant entertainment.  The\nmerriment of the guests rang out into the night; in the wildest dance\nmingled men and women, youths and maidens, and loud music smothered\nthe rolling thunder which could be heard in the distance.\n\nAnd the night grew darker, and the waves of the Zorge murmured with a\nhollow moan, and the flowers grew wet with dew.\n\nThe heavens gathered blackness, the water of the river seemed to sing\na death-song, and the flowers on its banks to weep.\n\nThen the lightnings covered the mountains with flames, making the\ndarkness still more terrible.\n\nAn old man stole softly and slowly up to the castle.  His garments\nbetrayed the greatest poverty, but his countenance was noble, and his\nthin locks were dripping with the rain.\n\nHe entered, but the servants paid no attention to him, but sat\ndrinking.\n\nHe mounted the stone stairway, and reached the ball-room, where\nknights and ladies whirled in the dance regardless of the storm.\n\nHe did not venture to enter, but stood timidly near the door, hoping\nthat some one might take pity on his condition.  He did not stand\nlong unobserved.\n\nThe master himself perceived him, but his heart was not touched with\npity.\n\nWith a countenance red with anger, he pounced upon the trembling man,\nthrust him out of his humble posture, and cried in a voice of\nthunder, \"Insolent beggar! how couldst thou dare to enter my castle?\nThou shalt pay dearly for thy impudence, and go down more quickly\nthan thou camest up!\"\n\nAnd he seized him, dragged him to a window, and threw him, amid the\nlaughter of the guests, into the depths below the castle.\n\nBut the beggar stood suddenly in the midst of a wonderful light, and\ncried in an awful voice, before which all merriment died, and the hot\nblood turned to ice: \"Cursed are ye who despise the poor, and give\nhim over to death; cursed be this spot with all your pleasure and\nluxury; ye shall sink this very hour in night and darkness!\"\n\nAnd lo! scarcely were the words uttered, when a hissing flash of\nlightning, like a fiery serpent, pierced the castle, a fearful clap\nof thunder followed, the earth opened, the castle sank in the hidden\ndeeps, and was seen no more.\n\nOnly the lonely wanderer hears in the stillness of the night a gloomy\nnoise like distant merriment and shouting, mingled with smothered\ngroans and a horrible dirge.\n\n\n\n\nThe Dwarfs of the Sachsenstein.\n\nOn the spot where the few houses forming Dorf Neuhof now stand lay,\ncenturies ago, a farmhouse built of stone and ornamented with\noddly-twisted chimneys.\n\nA green meadow valley lay before the house, on which fat,\ncomfortable-looking cows were grazing; well-scoured milk-pails hung\non the garden fence, fruit-trees were trained on the house-walls, a\npowerful dog lay basking in the glowing sunshine before the door;\nfrom the well-populated barn-yard one heard an animated conversation\namong the feathered tribes, where a peacock was chairman, and made\nshort emphatic speeches, and a turkey-cock filled the office of\ncrier; in short, all bore the stamp of wealth and comfort.\n\nAnd yet the owner of all, Herr Adam Neubauer, walked discontentedly\nup and down his room.\n\nHis sharp eye had long observed that pilfering hands had laid hold of\nhis field-products, and it had pained him excessively that one would\nsteal from him, for he had never permitted the needy to depart with\nempty hands; but in the last night so much had been stolen from his\npea-field that his hitherto silent displeasure broke forth in\nexpressions of anger.\n\n\"Anna,\" said he to his wife, a blonde of perhaps thirty years, with\nsoft features and gentle dove eyes, \"thou knowest I am patience\nitself, but that is too bad--that is too bad.  The people take\nadvantage of my forbearance and kindness, and it is time to let them\nsee that I can also be angry.  The first one I catch stealing, if he\nhas only taken one ear, shall be so punished that he will forget to\ncome again, thou mayest depend on it!\"\n\n\"But, dear husband,\" replied Frau Anna, in a gentle voice, for she\nhad not seen her husband so excited for a long time, \"do not excite\nthyself so.  Certainly it is vexatious when wicked men lay hands on\nour property; but as all the people of the earth are not purely\nhonourable, if thou wilt appoint guards, thou wilt soon have the\npleasure of seeing the thieves face to face.\"\n\n\"It is just that that makes me so angry,\" answered Neubauer--\"that\nall the appointed sentinels do not help in the least.  Since eight\ndays, our servants, well hidden, have watched; but no one has shown\nhimself, and nevertheless as much has been stolen as before.  What is\nto be done?\"\n\nAnna heard with surprise this puzzling communication, and after many\nsuppositions on the subject she went out shaking her head, to direct\nhousehold matters, and Adam remained alone with his vexation.\n\nThe evening of the same day the heavens had greatly changed.  It had\nbeen sultry all day, and now dark, silver-bordered clouds rose over\nthe Harz, united and formed a colossal black wall.\n\nIt grew darker and darker.  Hollow rolled the distant thunder, the\ndazzling lightnings flamed, and great drops fell.  Fearfully raged\nthe storm in the tops of the firs and beeches, and drove dust and\ngravel in wild whirls up the mountain path, on which now a wanderer,\nwith hair wildly blowing in the wind and fluttering garments,\ndescended.\n\nNot a ray of light pierced the clouds save the fire of the lightning,\nfollowed ever more quickly by the deafening claps of thunder; in\ntorrents the clouds now poured their streams on the mountains, the\nfirm rocks seemed to quake to their foundations; it was as if the\n_Dies Ir\u00e6_ were come.\n\nShivering with the cold rain, the wanderer hastened to the house of\nAdam Neubauer, which, by the flashes of the lightning, he had long\nperceived in the distance.\n\nHe had to wait long before his knocking was heard, for the storm\nturned the weathercock with a rattling noise, shook the tiles of the\nroof, and threw at intervals an open-hanging shutter violently to and\nfro.\n\nAt last the hospitable door was opened, and the honest house-father\nreceived the stranger--a perhaps sexagenarian of lofty stature,\npowerful frame, with a shrewd countenance and snow-white hair--with\nthe greatest readiness; and Frau Anna hurried away to look out dry\ngarments from her husband's wardrobe, and to order from larder and\ncellar a strengthening, refreshing repast.\n\nThe stranger soon found himself comfortable, and Herr Adam took so\nmuch pleasure in his guest that he became confidential by the first\nglass, and speedily related to him his losses in the fields with all\nparticulars.\n\nThe guest listened attentively, and then went out for a few minutes\nto look at the neighbourhood.\n\nHe shortly returned, took his staff, thanked Neubauer for the\nhospitable reception, and said: \"Ye were to me as to a near relative,\nme a perfect stranger; hence, hear as a reward my counsel.  If ye\nwould discover the thieves who rob your fields, go out at midnight\nand strike about in the air with a willow rod, and ye will soon see\nthe cunning rascals.  And now farewell!\"\n\nHe disappeared through the door and left his host in the greatest\namazement at his odd advice.\n\nTrue, his astonishment gave place to scornful laughter, and Adam\nconcluded to himself not to permit himself to be made a fool of; but\nas he found, several hours afterwards, that a new robbery had been\ncommitted, he decided, nevertheless, to follow the stranger's advice.\n\nIt was a glorious still night.  In the shadows sang the queenly\nnightingale.  The full moon shone in the cloudless heavens.\n\nThe precipitous wall of the Sachsenstein stood in shadowy contrast\nagainst the star-powdered blue, and seemed in the magical moonlight\nas if silvered.\n\nHerr Adam stood early in his peafield watching, and as the bell in\nthe neighbouring Sachsa rang out the midnight hour, he struck, as the\nstranger had advised, with the willow rod he had brought with him up\nand down in the air, and soon saw, with the greatest amazement, two\ntiny beings, who, with folded hands and terrified mien, looked up to\nhim.\n\nIf they had taken advantage of Adam's surprise, they might have made\ntheir escape; but fear and terror rooted them to the spot till he had\nrecovered himself, seized them with a firm hand, and asked in a stern\nvoice who they were, and where they came from.\n\n\"Ah!\" replied one of the little creatures, \"we are poor dwarfs, who\nhouse there in the Sachsenstein, and never do anybody any harm.  But\nhunger drove us this time to take some peas from your field.  We beg\nyou to forgive us, and we will make good the damage we have done.\"\n\n\"Of course you will,\" answered Herr Neubauer, who observed closely\nthe little men, of whose acts and deeds he had already heard so much;\n\"but the reckoning will be large, for you have long done mischief to\nmy property.  First of all, tell me how it happened that my watchers\ndid not discover you, nor I myself till I struck with the willow rod?\"\n\n\"We possess _Nebelkappen_,\"[1] said one of the two dwarfs, \"which\nrender us invisible to the human sight.  You knocked them off our\nheads with the willow rod, and then we became visible.  Will you\npermit us to look for them?\"\n\n\n[1] _Nebelkappen_--magical caps; literally, fog caps.\n\n\n\"Certainly not,\" returned Adam.  \"Do you fancy I shall be so stupid\nas to put the means into your hands of escaping?  No, no; you follow\nme into my house, and will not regain your freedom till you have paid\nme!\"\n\nThe dwarfs wept, and pleaded so pitifully to be released, that Adam's\nmild heart grew soft; but a glance at his field hardened it again,\nand he took his trembling prisoners home with him.\n\nThe next morning the two guilty dwarfs were examined, who related\nthat they, governed by a king, had dwelt for untold ages in the caves\nof the Harz, more especially in the Sachsenstein, and had been happy;\nbut now subterranean floods and landslips had caused them heavy\nlosses, so that they had been compelled to appropriate the\npossessions of men for their necessities.\n\nThey would, however, never again venture to do so, and once more\nexpressed their willingness to pay for the damages they had caused,\nand begged to know the sum demanded of them.\n\n\"If I should reckon all the mischief you have caused,\" said Herr\nAdam, \"a pretty long account would be the result; but I demand only\nthe value of the peas, and if you pay me three Gulden I will set you\nat liberty.\"\n\nThe dwarfs were well satisfied with this demand, but protested that\nthey had neither money nor articles of value with them, and begged\npermission to go and bring the money.\n\nBut Adam could not be induced to permit this.  Even to keep one as\nhostage, and allow the other to depart, he absolutely refused.\n\n\"Well, then, give us a rose-leaf and a pin,\" begged the dwarfs.  \"We\nwill write to our king, and he will undoubtedly at once release us\nfrom our painful positions.\"\n\nAfter some reflection, Adam permitted his wife, who looked at him\nwith beseeching eyes, to bring the required objects.\n\nAs soon as the dwarfs had bescribbled the rose-leaf, they handed it\nto him with directions to carry it to the Sachsenstein, and blow it\nin through one of the crevices, and a reply would speedily follow.\n\nThe features of the little creatures grew cheerful as they heard that\ntheir odd letter had been posted as directed, and they became merry\nand contented, although the day passed without anything happening for\ntheir release.\n\nBut when night came on, and the moon and stars shone in a clear sky,\nthe door of the room opened suddenly in which Adam sat with his\nprisoners, and a troop of handsome dwarfs, neatly dressed, entered.\n\nAt their head walked the king himself, in gold and purple, and\nwearing a sparkling crown.\n\nAs soon as the prisoners beheld their sovereign they knelt reverently\nbefore him, and remained in that humble position until the monarch\nmotioned to them to rise.  The presence of the pygmean ruler was\nindeed so commanding, that Herr Neubauer himself involuntarily\nuncovered his head before him.\n\nAt last the king broke the silence, and said: \"Ye have made two of my\nsubjects prisoners, and I am come to interest myself on their behalf,\nfor they are otherwise good men, who now only through pressure of\ncircumstances have been led astray to do you damage.  Moreover, that\nye may see that I approve of your demand, I will cause ten times as\nmuch to be paid.\"\n\nHis Majesty signed to one of his suite, who immediately approached,\nand counted from a bag which he carried under his arm thirty shining\nnew Gulden, and laid them on the table.\n\nAdam opened his eyes on seeing so much money.  He had already decided\nin his mind to set the delinquents free without ransom, as soon as he\nhad frightened them a little.\n\nSurprised at the royal generosity, he at once proclaimed to the\nprisoners their liberation, who sprang up with eyes shining with joy,\nfell at the feet of the Dwarf King, and thanked him for their freedom\nin the most touching expressions of gratitude.\n\nAfter the king had graciously raised them from their knees, he turned\nagain to Adam, and said: \"I thank you that you have not harmed these\npoor people, and notify you that in future you have nothing to fear\nfrom us, for on St. John's Eve I shall march from this place over the\nbridge with my subjects.  Already for a long period the subterranean\nwater-floods have threatened to drive us from the Sachsenstein, which\nwe have inhabited so long, and I shall leave only a few of my people,\nin order not to wholly lose this ancient possession; from them,\nhowever, you will suffer no molestation.\"\n\nThe sovereign bowed graciously and departed, attended by his train.\nThe two released prisoners followed with joyful gestures, hand in\nhand.\n\nSt. John's Eve, Frau Anna and her husband, full of curiosity,\ntogether with the servants, hid themselves near the bridge to see the\ndwarfs march over.\n\nScarcely had the darkness come on, when the procession appeared in\nsight, a well-ordered company, and the concealed heard their march\ntill the rising of the sun, and the noise thereof was like the light\ntrampling of a flock of sheep.\n\nSince that time nothing has been seen or heard of the dwarfs, and not\nonly here but everywhere they are vanished; but their memory lives in\nthe mouth of the people, and when the icy north wind blows, and the\nsnow beats against the windows, young men and maidens gather around\nthe fire in confidential chat, and to the rattling of the wheel tell\nof the deep clefts of the mountains, where in eternal night the\ndwarfs once held their weddings, and where gnomes and nymphs and\nfairies in darkness dwell.\n\n\n\n\nThe Burggeist[1] of the Haarburg.\n\n[1] _Burggeist_--patron spirit.\n\nThe mountain called the Haarburg, which has a summit of only small\ncircumference, bore in a long-forgotten time a fortress, which, like\nmost ancient castles, consisted of a single strong tower.\n\nIn its walls were housed the first lords of Wernigerode.  But the\nmountain on which the present Schloss Wernigerode stands was adorned\nonly with the primeval forest.\n\nFor centuries the occupants of the Haarburg felt themselves happy in\nthe grey giant tower, until a Graf Bodo dwelt in it.  He was the\nfather of a numerous progeny, and the tower grew too small for all\nthe children and domestics, and he often felt a wish to have a more\ncapacious dwelling.\n\nAn addition to the tower was not to be thought of, in consequence of\nthe small space on the mountain summit; and one evening, as he sat\nwith his wife before the entrance to the Haarburg, and looked out on\nthe beautiful landscape, he said to her, pointing toward the mountain\nwhere the present castle stands:\n\n\"What thinkest thou?  Would it not be well if we could live yonder?\nThe mountain has plenty of space; and there would be room to build\nspacious salons and chambers, and even a chapel, and a single moat\naround the whole; then we should be able to entertain our friends, as\nmany as could come.  What is thy opinion?\"\n\nThe lady of the castle quite agreed with her husband.  They conversed\nlong on the subject, and only separated as darkness began to settle\nover the vales and mountains, and the benevolent Luna hung out her\nsilver lamp.\n\nThe night was lovely, and the Countess could not rest or sleep.  She\nopened the window, and gazed at the shining moon, sank in thought,\nand did not observe that the moments fled swiftly, and midnight and\nthe owls already hovered over her head.\n\nThen, out of a corner of the chamber, with light, noiseless steps,\nissued an odd being, a little man, with an old, wrinkled face, a long\ngrey beard, but with not disagreeable features.\n\nHis attire consisted of a grey coat and a pointed hat, and he carried\na staff.\n\nSilently the figure approached the thinking, dreaming Countess, on\nwhose form the soft moonlight fell, and then twitched gently her\ngarment with his tiny hand.\n\nAlarmed, the Countess turned round, but lost all fear so soon as she\nbeheld the form of the grey man.\n\nShe had recognised the Burggeist, who appeared seldom, but always\nbrought happiness with him, and inquired in a gentle voice:\n\n\"What wilt them from me, thou good spirit?\"\n\n\"I saw thee at such a late hour sitting in troubled thought,\" replied\nthe patron spirit, in a melodious voice, \"and came to ask the cause\nof thy sorrow.  What trouble lies so heavily at thy heart?\"\n\n\"No sorrow troubles me,\" said the Countess, smiling.  \"Only a wish\nmoved my soul.\"\n\n\"And what might that be?\" inquired the spirit, with strained\nattention.\n\n\"My husband,\" replied the Countess, \"would wish this fortress on that\nspacious mountain opposite.  He declares that we cannot live longer\nhere; and I must say, after due reflection, he is perfectly right.\"\n\n\"Does it no longer please thee here?\" asked the dwarf, with a\nquick-clouding face.  \"Ye men are right difficult to please!  Thy\nancestors have dwelt here for ages, happy and contented, and now ye\nwould forsake the tower that has sheltered thy race so long.  Ye are\nvery ungrateful.  If I had known that that was all that troubled\nthee, I should not have left my hiding-place.  But it is already\nlate; seek thy couch and rest well!\"\n\nThe spirit vanished, and the Countess followed his advice; but\ntroubled dreams sported around the head of the sleeping lady, and\nfantastic scenes passed before her fancy.\n\nIt seemed as if she saw the dwarf from her window go out at the\nentrance of the tower, large as a giant, striking in the air with his\nhands all sorts of odd signs and motions, and with a powerful voice\nshe heard him cry: \"Slide on!  Slide on!\"[2]\n\n\n[2] \"_R\u00fccke dich!  R\u00fccke dich!_\"\n\n\nAnd hardly were these words out of his mouth when the Haarburg was\nraised on unseen hands from its foundations high in the air, so high\nthat the Countess was seized with giddiness, and awoke in terror.\n\nAs she opened her eyes it was already light; but the sun had not yet\nrisen above the mountains, so she could only have slept a short time,\nbut felt so much strengthened and refreshed that she rose, dressed,\nand went to the window to enjoy the fresh morning.  But who shall\ndescribe her amazement when she saw the town of Wernigerode directly\nbeneath, and on closer observation found that the old tower Haarburg\nhad been moved in the night to the mountain where her husband had so\nearnestly desired to have it.\n\nAs soon as her first astonishment had passed, the Countess hastened\nto her still slumbering husband, led him to the window, and feasted\nher eyes on his boundless astonishment and joy.\n\nFilled with gratitude, she called the benevolent dwarf, to thank him;\nbut he did not answer the summons, and has never been seen in the new\nSchloss.\n\n\n\n\nThe Three Wood-fairies.\n\nThe great plain north of the Harz mountains was not always the\nsmiling, fruitful tract of land the eye now beholds.\n\nA great lake covered a large portion of it; the ground around this\nlake was swampy and unfruitful, and dense forests shut out the\nsunlight.\n\nBut the deep shadows of these woodlands, where the foot of man seldom\nwandered, this sacred stillness, undisturbed by the noise and bustle\nof human life, was notwithstanding peopled.\n\nCreatures of tender form and rare beauty--not so ethereal as the air,\nnot so material as man--danced lightly, as if borne by the breezes,\nthrough the woods, which were their possession, intimately interwoven\nwith their existence, for they grew with the trees which they\ninhabited, and drooped and died with them.\n\nWhen the moon mounted her blue throne, and cast her pure silvery\nglance over the silent and noble forests, it was as if a light shiver\nfell on the trees, as if they became animated, and assumed the forms\nof maidens, who in the pale light skipped upon the mountains, or\ndescended to the lake or the Bode, to visit their neighbours the\nmermaids, still and innocent as themselves, who swam the light waves\nradiant in the smile of Queen Luna.\n\nBut as time went on these pleasant reunions were interrupted by the\nhuman race, which penetrated the forests, mercilessly cut down\neverything that stood in the way of its selfish ends, and made these\npeaceful regions the stage of its vain ambitions and aims, never\ndreaming that with every tree that was hewn down a life more pure and\nbeautiful than its own was destroyed.\n\nSoon the joy at these nightly assemblies was changed to sorrow, and\nwhen the moonlight called the fairy forms of wood-nymphs and mermaids\ninto life, they wept together over their vanished sisters and\nfriends, and not one was sure that the following day the same sad\nfate would not be her destiny.\n\nA powerful Kaiser was come into the district with a vast retinue and\nan army, had built himself a Burg on the banks of the Bode, and\nbestowed the land on his followers, who were to cut down trees, drain\nswamps, and transform the wilderness into a fruitful plain.\n\nThe woods gave place speedily to a bare tract, and the maiden circle\ngrew ever smaller.  There, on the mountain west of Thale, where in\nits bosom the antediluvian giant animal skeletons were found, an old\nwarrior had received permission from the Kaiser to clear the land.\n\nHe toiled unweariedly, dug the soil, felled the trees one after the\nother, till of the sacred grove only three trees were left standing.\n\n\"Now, only these three trees left,\" thought he to himself, stretched\nhimself wearily in the grass to rest a minute and strengthen himself\nfor the last stroke; but fatigue overcame him, so that he sank into a\ndeep sleep, and only awoke when the moon and stars shone in the\nheavens.\n\nThen he saw three maidens sitting under the green roof of a maple\ntree, silent and mournful; their eyes were wet as if dewdrops hung in\nthe drooping eyelashes; they uttered complaining words in soft tones\nlike the rustling of the night wind in the leaves.\n\n\"Let us take leave of each other,\" lisped softly the voice of one;\n\"our time is come.  When the rosy dawn awakes he will come who cut\ndown our sisters; and as they are fallen, so must we.  Desolate will\nbe the spot that saw us so oft united in joy, lonely the moonlight\nthat shone on our dance.  The nymphs of the lake and the mountain\nstream will look out for us, longing for our coming, and ask, 'Where\nare our friends of the mountain?  Why do they not descend when the\nqueen of the stars illuminates our palace?'  Happy sisters, ye are as\nyet safe from our mournful fate, for ye are secure in your retreat\nfrom the barbarian!\"\n\n\"Weep not, sister!\" said another, with light moaning; \"weep not over\nour inevitable destiny.  To see that we must die grieves me not, for\nall our beloved are gone on before us; but that we are the last of\nour race, and our line becomes with us extinct, that it is that fills\nmy heart with woe.\n\n\"That our race might continue I would live on, and if I could appear\nin person to him who will come in the morning with his axe to\nannihilate us, I would entreat him for the blessing of life, and he\nwould not refuse my entreaty.\n\n\"But only night gives us being comprehensible to men; the day\nconfines us stiff and without form in our narrow house.\"\n\n\"Ah! if we could only appear to him!\" added the third; \"if we could\nonly appear and beg him for life, we should not plead in vain; I have\nseen him mourn too, have heard him lament the beautiful forest.\n\n\"And what benefit would it be to him to destroy us also?  What\nbenefit has it been to him that he has destroyed our sisters?  Will\nthe products of this soil repay the labour of tillage?  But we would\ngladly, though invisible, help him to cultivate the land during the\nhours when we have a form, if he would take pity and spare the last\nof a great race.\"\n\nThe old soldier, who had listened in surprise to this singular\nconversation, could contain himself no longer.  \"By the sword of my\nKaiser!\" he cried, springing to his feet, \"cursed be the hand that\nshould do you an injury, ye innocent beings; destroy you I will not,\nno, but protect and defend you with my goods, blood, and life.\n\n\"But who are ye?  Was it a dream that charmed my senses?\"\n\nTerrified, the maidens had vanished at his first words.\n\nNow their voices resound from the trees as they reply to his question.\n\n\"No dream has deceived thee.  Thou hast seen the last of the\nwood-nymphs who adorn this mountain.  If thou wilt protect them, so\nspare the trees of the wood that still stand; they will thank thee.\"\n\nDawn broke over the mountains, the voices were silent; they sighed in\nthe morning wind, but the soldier could not understand the tones; at\nfirst he was inclined to hold all for a dream, but what he had heard\nstood so clear in his mind that he finally doubted no longer, and\nzealously defended the three trees.\n\nOn his dying bed he commended them to his sons, and charged them\nnever to sell the land.\n\nLong the fields near the three trees thrived above all others, and at\nnight three maiden forms could be seen following the plough in the\nmoonlight.\n\nBut alas! the trees and land came into the hands of an owner who held\nthe story of the three wood-fairies for a fable, and he cut the trees\ndown.\n\nSince then the mountain has been barren and fruitless, and the three\nsisters have never been seen with the plough again.\n\n\n\n\nThe Shepherds' Towers.\n\nTwo shepherds in Quedlinburg, father and son, poor but honest people,\nwere once watching their flocks on the green meadows.\n\nIt was a lovely morning; the lambs played with the wild flowers, the\nbirds sang so joyfully in the neighbouring wood, the breezes were so\nmild and odorous, that the hearts of the shepherds were filled with\nan unusual gladness, and they both began to play a sacred air on\ntheir reed pipes.\n\nThe bells of the royal convent began to ring, and their melodious\nharmonies penetrated the heart, powerful and irresistible as a voice\nfrom heaven.\n\n\"There is something glorious in such a solemn chime,\" said the elder\nshepherd to his son, who sat near him.  \"The tones seem to come down\nto us from the eternal heights, and remind us of our duty and our\nbetter home.\"\n\n\"It is indeed true,\" replied the younger.  \"The chimes possess an\nincomprehensible power over the mind, and awake the inner life to\ndevotion and holy reflections; and I never look across to the towers\nwhence those bold and fearless tones rise on the air, without seeing\nin them landmarks pointing to heaven.\"\n\n\"Oh, what a pity!\" added the father, \"that our new church in the New\nTown must stand so long without either tower or bells.  What a pity\nthat a work to God's honour must remain unfinished, while the rich\nbuild palaces and heap up treasures.  How willingly every poor person\nin the town would contribute, if thereby the edifice could only be\ncompleted.  But without a special blessing from God, many years may\npass away before the church is finished.\"\n\n\"Father!\" cried the son, interrupting the conversation, \"where are\nour dogs?  I don't see them by the flock, and still the faithful\ncreatures have never yet left their post without our commands.  What\ncan have started them and allured them away?  Where shall we find\nthem again?\"\n\n\"Yonder, my son!\" said the father, whose eye had swept exploringly\nthe neighbourhood, pointing toward the near forest.  \"I see them\nrunning as fast as possible toward the wood; they scent game, no\ndoubt, and are on the track.\"\n\nAnd they both whistled, and called the dogs by name, but in vain, for\nthe hitherto so obedient animals only turned their heads slightly at\nthe sound of the well-known voices, and then continued their wild\nrace.\n\nAstonished at the unwonted disobedience, and anxious lest they might\nlose the dogs, the shepherds decided to follow them to the borders of\nthe wood.  The flock was feeding quietly in a meadow, and there was\nno danger of its wandering away.\n\nThe border of the wood was soon reached, but no trace of the dogs was\nto be seen.  They had already penetrated the thick underbrush, and a\nstripe in the dewy grass showed the way they had taken.\n\n\"Wilt thou remain here, father, and watch that no wolf come out of\nthe wood and scatter the flock?\" said the son, and hurried on in the\ndirection the dogs had taken.\n\nThe father remained standing, keeping his eyes on the lambs; but it\nwas not long before he heard the missing dogs bark, and fancied he\nheard also the voice of his son.\n\nHe listened.  He was not mistaken.  The son called with all his might\nhis father's name, who, terrified lest something dreadful had\nhappened, hastened after the voice.\n\nThe way he had to take was perfectly strange to him, although he had\noften been in the same wood before; also the forest seemed very much\naltered; in the place of the young, slender trees, stood primeval,\nmighty oaks, and under their deep shades, through an opening in the\ntrees, rose the grey dilapidated walls of a ruined church.\n\nAt the entrance to this church, half hidden by wild briars, trees,\nand ivy, he saw his son standing with a look of amazement and with an\nuncertain air, for he too had never discovered these ruins, and\ncuriosity and fear of enchantment fought a sharp contest in his\nbreast.\n\nThe arrival of the father, however, put an end to all fear, and after\na short consultation, whether they should enter the desolate,\nghost-like ruins, curiosity triumphed, so much the more, since they\nobserved that the track of the dogs led through the bushes into the\nwall.  With considerable effort they made their way through the rank\nweeds and thorns, and reached a high portal, fallen in on one side.\nThey went through it, and saw themselves surrounded by a dim\ntwilight, since the openings in the arch ceiling were insufficient to\nlight the interior, and the slender arched windows were so overgrown\nwith ivy and other plants that they stood in a green night.\n\nThey could scarcely distinguish the spot where the altar had stood,\nand where masses of broken, scattered stones betrayed the fury of the\nstorm that had destroyed it.\n\nApproaching the spot, they were seized with trembling as they\ndiscovered an old crucifix in the wall, and, bending the knee,\nmurmured a prayer.\n\nA noise startled them; looking around they perceived the dogs behind\na portion of the broken altar, scratching and digging, without\ntroubling themselves at the presence of their masters, as if they had\nbeen fastened by enchantment to the spot.\n\nThe shepherds approached the corner where they were scraping and\npawing, and looked attentively at the hole growing every moment\nlarger and deeper in the ground, and soon a sheet-iron chest became\nvisible.\n\nThe dogs barked as if for joy at the discovery, stopped their work,\nand sprang barking from one shepherd to the other.\n\nThe shepherds set to work to lift out the chest, which they found\ntremendously heavy.  It contained a mass of gold and silver coins\nwith a stamp of a time long past.\n\nBefore they could recover from their astonishment, the dogs began\nagain to scratch the ground in the same spot, and soon a second chest\ncame to view, in which the shepherds found golden goblets,\ncandlesticks, and other sacred vessels of immense value.\n\nNot till now were the dogs satisfied, but as the second chest was\nopened they hurried back to the flock, and displayed an unwonted zeal\nto fulfil their duty.\n\nThe two shepherds repaired to the Abbess of the St. Servatius Convent\nin Quedlinburg, related what had occurred, and expressed a wish that\ntwo towers should be built on the new Nikolai[1] church with the\nfound treasure.\n\n\n[1] _Nikolai_--St. Nicholas.\n\n\nAt the news of the wonderful discovery, half the town went out to the\nwood to see the spot where the treasure had been found.  But no ruin\nwas to be discovered; all was vanished without leaving a trace, and\neven the shepherds could not find the spot again.\n\nIf the treasure in their possession had not proved to the contrary,\nthey would have held the whole thing for a dream.\n\nThe Nikolai church still stands, shaded by old lindens, and at its\nwest end the shepherds' two towers.\n\nThe figures of the two shepherds and their dogs, hewn in the stone,\nstill look down upon the ancient, imperial city from these towers,\nwhere they were placed so many centuries ago as memorials of a\nsomewhat unusual unselfishness.\n\n\n\n\nThe Treasure-hunters of the Sieberthal.\n\nMany centuries ago there lay in the valley of the little river\nSieber, where now is the Long Meadow, copper-works.\n\nA mass of scoria, the greater part of which has been employed on the\n_chauss\u00e9e_, once marked the spot.\n\nThe owners of these works, who are said to have been very rich,\ntogether with the works, vanished in a single night.\n\nThe following morning nothing remained to be seen but this huge heap\nof scoria.\n\nIt was said the owners had buried their treasure in it before their\ndisappearance.\n\nSoon after that event, a blue flame was seen every night between\neleven and twelve on this heap of scoria, which a black man\nendeavoured to keep burning until midnight.\n\nThe report of a Goldfeuer[1] in the Sieberthal soon spread, and many\nsaw the flame, but no one was bold enough to attempt to gain the\ntreasure.\n\n\n[1] _Goldfeuer_--Goldfire.\n\n\nAt last a man from Lonau, who had experience in treasure-seeking,\ndetermined to attempt it, and engaged several workmen to assist him\nin the undertaking.\n\nOn the way to the spot he commanded his men: \"Let no one speak while\ndigging, or all is lost.\"[2]\n\n\n[2] A search for all objects under enchantment must be conducted in\nsilence.  If one speaks, the charm is immediately broken.\n\n\nThey all promised, and gave him the hand as pledge.\n\nMeanwhile they arrived at the spot, the work began, and soon they\ncame to a huge cauldron filled with Holland ducats, which it was\nnecessary to raise.\n\nJust as they had raised the vessel to the surface they heard wheels.\n\nThe workmen paused and listened, when lo! a carriage appeared drawn\nrapidly by four doves.\n\nThe driver cried, \"Guten Abend!  Geht's gut?\"  But not a soul replied.\n\nDirectly after came a fellow in a trough along the same road, saying\nhurriedly: \"Shall I not also come?\" and made the most desperate\nefforts to reach the dove-drawn carriage.\n\nOne of the workmen laughing, cried mockingly: \"The poor devil must\nalso drive!\"\n\n_Hutsch_!  In an instant blue flame and cauldron had vanished!\n\nThe men stood gazing at each other with long faces, when instantly\ntheir hair turned grey, and they all died soon of grief and vexation.\n\n\n\n\nThe Enchanted Maiden of the Zorge.\n\nLike Princess Lise, she sometimes appears as a serpent.  On the\nHohegeissberg, near the river Zorge, the White Maiden of the\nStaufenburg[1] is seen every seven years with a bunch of keys.\n\n\n[1] The Staufenburg bei Zorge.\n\n\nOnce came a shepherd from Kloster Walkenried and pastured his flock\nin the vicinity of the mountain.\n\nEarly in the morning the White Maiden stood on the cliffs, making her\nfootprints in the rock, and sang gaily.\n\nWhen she had finished her song she descended to the shepherd, and\nasked him if he would rescue her from the enchantment.\n\nHe replied he would gladly if he could.\n\nShe told him she would return the next morning, at first in the same\nform which he now saw, after which she would become a serpent.  If he\nwould kiss her in her serpent form, she would be free.\n\nThe shepherd promised solemnly.\n\nThe next morning she appeared again on the cliffs and sang as before.\n\nWhen the sheep had all filed past, the maiden descended from the\nrocks, came to him as a serpent, and sprang upward toward him, that\nhe might give her the serpent-kiss; but he turned aside in horror.\n\nThe serpent suddenly vanished, with such a shriek of anguish that the\nshepherd was ever afterward perfectly deaf.\n\nShe is seen on the Staufenburg bei Zorge every seven years at Easter,\nwith a bunch of keys and a Pomeranian dog white as snow.\n\nShe waits from eleven to twelve for a rescuer, and when the time is\nexpired the dog barks.\n\nThis dog is said to have been her lap-dog before the curse.\n\nThere is a Harz legend that the Ascension took place from the\nmountain of the Staufenburg.\n\n\n\n\nThe Accursed Maiden of Lichtenstein.\n\nNot far from Lichtenstein is a spring, where once a shepherd rested\nalways at noonday and watered his flocks.\n\nOne day, when he sat there as usual, a serpent came from under a\nstone and looked kindly at him.\n\nAt first he was seized with terror, but at last felt quite at home\nwith her.\n\nThe second day she came again, from her head half in human form\naddressed the shepherd, and told him he must take courage the next\nday and kiss the serpent, when he would thereby become always\nfortunate and happy.\n\nShe came the third day from under the stone, crept up to him, and\nraised her head to kiss him.\n\nAt first he was filled with disgust, but taking courage he shut his\neyes and kissed her.\n\nAnd there stood before him no longer a serpent, but a beautiful girl,\nand more--a princess.\n\nThen the shepherd forsook his sheep, went with the maiden to the\nking, who gave him the Princess to wife.\n\n\n\n\nThe Great Hall in the Petersberg.\n\nOne day a child plucked a flower on the Petersberg near Goslar while\nplaying.\n\nThen the mountain opened, and the child came into a great hall, where\nmany noble steeds neighed and tossed their proud heads, and the\nviands were served on gold and silver.\n\nAll who sat there wore golden crowns, and a silver plate was given\nthe child to take home.\n\nThe parents of the child sought the _Wunderblume_, that they might\nalso see this chamber, but failed.\n\nThese guests of the mountain are the old Kaisers who once held their\nCourt in Goslar.\n\n\n\n\nSpar-die-M\u00fch.[1]\n\n[1] Spare the trouble.\n\nAt the north end of the Bergstadt[2] Lautenthal lies the Bielstein.\n\n\n[2] Mining town.\n\n\nBelow, at the north-west end of the town, the little river Innerste\nflows northward towards the Bielstein, and along its base.\n\nAbove this bend in the stream, where it turns to flow along the base,\nonly a few steps from the stream, is a cave called the Zwergloch, or\nDwarf-cave.\n\nThe level place at the foot of the Bielstein bears the name of\nSpar-die-M\u00fch.\n\nIn the cave dwelt in earlier times three dwarfs, who often lent the\npeople of Lautenthal money, and also gold and silver plate for\nweddings and baptisms.\n\nNow it happened once that these borrowed objects were not returned.\nSo when the people came again to borrow, they heard a voice call,\n\"Spar-die-M\u00fch!\"\n\nAnd from that time the dwarfs declined to oblige the neglectful\ncitizens in any way, and since then the place has been called\nSpar-die-M\u00fch.\n\n\n\n\nThe Dwarf-King Hibich.\n\nThe Hibichenstein, near Grand, consists of two colossal limestone\ncliffs leaning against each other, which are said to have been formed\nin the distant days when giants lived in the Hercynia Sylva,[1] from\na pebble which a giant threw out of his shoe.\n\n\n[1] The Hercynia Sylva of the Romans was of greater extent than the\nHarz mountains.  It included the Schwarzwald, Thuringen, Bohemia, and\nthe Harz.\n\n\nIn the Hibichenstein dwelt dwarfs, who often attended the children in\nGrund.\n\nTheir King Hibich was ages old, with shaggy hair like a bear, a very\nwrinkled face, and a long ice-grey beard, which possessed magical\npower.\n\nHe always carried a silver miner's lamp that shone clear as the sun,\nand wore a golden crown.\n\nAlthough so small, he could stretch himself much larger.\n\nFormerly his dwarf majesty was allowed to appear in the upper world\nevery five hundred years, but he is no longer permitted to leave his\nsubterranean abode.\n\nHe protected the forests, and played serious jokes upon those who did\nthem any injury.  But he was benevolent and kind to those in distress\nwho complained to him of their trouble.\n\nOnce a miner's wife, whose husband had long lain ill, went from Grund\ninto the wood to gather cones for the baker, who gave her bread for\nthem.\n\nWhen she had entered the forest, Hibich came to her and asked: \"What\nseekest thou here?\"\n\nThen she told him all her want and distress, whereupon he gave her a\nplant to cure her husband, and pointed out to her a spot where she\nwould find plenty of cones.\n\nArrived there, she could at first find none, but directly the cones\nbegan to fall in showers from the trees, not striking her, however,\nbut all falling into the basket.\n\nWhen she lifted the basket to put it on her back, she found it much\nheavier than the cones had ever been before.\n\nReturning to the spot where the King had first met her, he asked her\nif she had found cones.  Then she told him what had happened, and the\nDwarf-King revealed to her that his people had done it, and added the\ncones were pure silver.\n\nHe told her she was to take a sufficient number of them to make\nherself and her sick husband comfortable, and to provide for her\nchildren, and with the rest she was to build a church in Grund; but\nby no means to forget the healing plant.\n\nThe sick man became \"healthy as a fish\" from the hour when he made\nuse of this powerful herb.\n\nIn the forester's house in Grund lived in the olden days a forester\nwho had lost his wife early, and had an only son, a good-hearted\nyouth, only somewhat over-inquisitive and indiscreet.\n\nOne Sunday afternoon the forester's son, with his friend, the son of\na miner, went into the wood for a walk.\n\nAs they reached the Hibichstein they fell into a conversation\nconcerning its height, and the miner's son said he should like to see\nthe person who could climb to the top.\n\nThe other said that was nothing, he would do it; but his friend\nendeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose, saying no one who had\nclimbed up could ever get down again, but was always found the next\nday broken to pieces at the base.\n\nHe was not be dissuaded, and climbed to the summit, where he found a\nlarge level space, and began to dance and shout for joy, and called\nto his friend to climb up.  But the other shook his head, and told\nhim not to forget he had to come down.\n\nFinally, when his joy had cooled, the forester's son decided to\ndescend, but could not leave the spot, for the Dwarf-King Hibich held\nhim enchanted to the rock for his presumption.\n\nHe called to his friend and entreated him to go and tell his father.\n\nThen the forester came with his gun and would shoot his son down.\n\nBut as he was about to fire, came Hibich and demanded what he was\ngoing to do; and as he replied he was going to shoot his son down\nfrom the mountain, the King advised him not to attempt anything so\nfoolish.\n\nAgain he took aim, when it began to thunder and lighten, and the rain\npoured down in torrents.\n\nNight came on, and the forester was obliged to go home till morning.\n\nHardly had he gone when the dwarfs arrived, all in miners' dress, and\neach carrying a mine-lamp.\n\nThey had the most skilful ladders, which they placed one on the\nother, and now they held together as if they had been glued.\n\nAs soon as this ladder was ready, and reached the top of the\nHibichenstein, a dwarf stood at each side and lighted the way.\n\nThe forester's son must now seat himself on the shoulders of the\ndwarf on the topmost rung of the ladder; and see! the ladder is wide\nenough to permit them to descend between the thick line of\nlamp-bearing dwarfs on either hand.\n\nNo sooner had they reached the base than dwarfs, lights, and ladder\nhad vanished.\n\nThen came the old Hibich, took him by the hand, and said: \"As thou\nhast been on the summit of the Hibichenstein, and hast suffered so\nmuch anxiety and terror, thou shalt also see the Dwarf-King's castle.\"\n\nThen they entered through a great arched door into the mountain, and\nthe King conducted him to a large room, where stood chairs and a\ntable.\n\nThe walls glittered with pure ore, the ceiling was a single piece of\nponderous spar, white as the driven snow, and from it hung a\nchandelier of mountain crystal and precious stones.\n\nThe floor was strewed with branches of firs, and the panels shimmered\nwith gold and jewels.\n\nIn the centre of this superb chamber stood a table of hematite;\nbefore it a silver chair, upon which the Dwarf-King seated himself,\nand commanded his companion also to sit down.\n\nThen he struck with a silver rapier upon the table of hematite, which\nproduced a tone the sweetness of which was never heard before.\n\nA thousand tiny female forms appeared in answer to the summons,\nbearing strawberries and raspberries; and while the King and his\nguest partook of the fruit, the dwarf maidens played the most\ndelicious music.\n\nAfterward costly wine was brought in silver goblets.\n\nWhen the repast was ended, Hibich led his young visitor into an\nadjoining chamber, on one side of which was silver, on the other\ngold, and at the royal command, \"Silver!\" \"Gold!\" the forester's son\nmust take of the metal named till he was laden with wealth.\n\nThen the Dwarf-King said: \"Wilt thou do me a favour?  Namely, never\nto permit any one to shoot at birds on the Hibichenstein; for in this\nway bits of the rock are broken off.\n\n\"As long as the great Hibichenstein remains the great, my crown is\nsecure; but so soon as it becomes the little Hibichenstein, I lose my\ncrown, and can never appear on the earth again.\"\n\nThe youth promised, and Hibich conducted him to another chamber,\nwhere stood a delicious bed of fragrant moss, wished him Gute Nacht,\nand promised to wake him early.\n\nThe forester's son had slept but a short time, as it seemed to him,\nwhen he was waked up suddenly.  It was early dawn, and he shivered,\nexclaiming, \"How cold it is!\"\n\nHe lay under a bush at the foot of the Hibichenstein, but all the\ngold and silver that the Dwarf-King Hibich had given him was heaped\nup beside him.\n\n\n\n\nThe King of Tipplers.\n\nA legend is told in Ellrich of an Earl von Klettenberg--not the\ndevout founder of the Huy Wald Abbey, whose forsaken wife built\nKloster Walkenried.\n\nThe Earl rode one Sunday morning to Ellrich, as an invited guest to a\ngrand banquet, where all the guests were to drink for a wager, the\nreward being a chain of gold.\n\nThey drank for hours, till all were _hors de combat_ save four\nknights.\n\nThree of these leaned against the wall, and only the Earl von\nKlettenberg stood upright; to him, therefore, the victory was awarded.\n\nHe resolved to show himself to the people as the winner, and\ncommanded his horse to be brought.  Four of his attendants lifted the\nEarl into the saddle, and he rode through the village.\n\nAs he reached the St. Nicholas Church, he heard the chanting of\nvespers, rode through the open door into the church, and spurred on\nhis horse till he had ridden through the congregation, whose\nvesper-chant changed to terror and dismay.\n\nBut as he reached the steps of the altar, all the four horse-shoes\nfell off, and the horse and his rider sank to the ground.\n\nThe four huge horse-shoes were nailed to the church door, where they\nremained for centuries, and the awful tale was oft related to\ntrembling listeners.\n\nAt last a fire destroyed the church, and the four horse-shoes are\nunhappily lost.\n\n\n\n\nThe Needle's Eye\n\nNear Kloster Ilfeld, close by the _chauss\u00e9e_, stands on a mountain a\nhuge boulder, which has a small hole through the centre.\n\nAll the servants from Nordhausen and the other surrounding places,\nwhen they drive into the forest the first time for wood, must creep\nthree times through this hole--which is only done with difficulty;\nand as they creep in, and on the opposite side out, their comrades\nlash them with their whips.\n\nIf the new-comer will not indulge in this pastime, he must pay money.\n\nThe new pupils in the high school at Ilfeld must also, as a joke,\ncreep through the Needle's Eye.\n\nThis stone a giant is said to have thrown out of his shoe.\n\n\n\n\nLegend of St. Hubertus.\n\nSt. Hubertus, the Patron Saint of the House of Anhalt, was a\npassionate lover of the chase.  One day, hunting in the old oak wood\non the mountain Hubertush\u00f6he, which lies between Gernrode and\nBallenstedt, when about to shoot a deer, the Saint saw a cross rise\nfrom the head of the animal, when he immediately lost his passion for\nhunting, and, according to the legend, \"his only game became eternity\nand heavenly bliss.\"\n\n\n\n\nBathilde von Ballenstedt.\n\nIn the Saxon Chronicles we are told that Ludwig, King of the Franks,\ntook Schloss Ballenstedt, and carried away captive the fair daughter\nof the Earl of Askanien.\n\n  \"Dost thou not hear the snorting of steeds?\n  Franks are marching through the wood\n  From the destroyed castle; in their midst\n        The captive daughter.\n  Yes, like smothered tones of anger,\n  It rustles in the foliage of the oaks.\n  Sadly they shake their tops,\n  As if they knew of the robbery.\"\n\n\n\n\n  UNWIN BROTHERS,\n  PRINTERS,\n  CHILWORTH AND LONDON.","title":"Legends and tales of the Harz Mountains","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":59503}