The Forester and the Enchanted Castle.
The forester of Scharzfels, with his gun on his shoulder, was one day sauntering through the wood, when, as he turned a corner, he saw three men in a young plantation digging, and thereby doing much mischief.
Already a strong oath was on his lips as the figures turned round and, through their odd, foreign appearance, frightened back every expression of anger.
One was a tall, from the weight of years not much bent, grey-headed old man. His bald head, from which on each side short silver locks hung down, a long white beard falling over his breast, the lean, stern features, and the black robe, gave him the appearance of an anchorite.
The second was a strong, powerful youth with flaming eyes. An odd-shaped, pointed hat rested on his curly black hair, and an uncultivated beard covered the lower part of his face.
The third was a noble, imposing form, the fearless countenance framed in a thousand auburn locks of curly hair; the eye was full of fire and courage, the bold lips full of power.
All three looked at the approaching huntsman with so much firmness and composure that he was only able to inquire, "What are you doing here, gentlemen? You are trampling under foot the young growths, and with your scraping and digging you will destroy many a thriving tree."
One of the strangers replied to this address mildly, regretted that they certainly had caused a little damage, but that was unfortunately not to be prevented, since they sought just on this very spot certain stones which were absolutely necessary to them, and that they were come from a great distance to make the search.
They expressed themselves, however, willing to make indemnification, if the forester would only make his demands.
A further conversation betrayed to the forester that the strangers were Venetians, and the result of it was that he permitted them to depart without hindrance, or without accepting the smallest indemnity.
Several years passed away; but every St. John's Day the forester saw and spoke with the same three strangers.
At last, one sultry summer afternoon, he threw himself down under a tree, and soon sank into a deep sleep.
How long he had slept he could not tell; as he opened his eyes he saw himself in a perfectly strange place, in which directly before him rose a stately, wonderful castle, surrounded by a high wall.
Terrified, the forester gazed around. It was certain that he had never before seen the neighbourhood, and that he had been transplanted from Scharzfels to the spot by enchantment.
In the anguish of his spirit he said the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the Ave Maria, prayers for storms, and all the others he could think of, all mingled in the wildest confusion, like one who had taken leave of his senses.
But whether it was that he had left out a word, or was not earnest and devotional enough, the castle and its enclosing walls stood immovable.
The terrified man knew of nothing better to do than to resign himself to his fate, and to observe more closely his surroundings.
Dark cypresses rose behind the stone walls, and fig trees thrust their wonderfully crooked fingers forward, as if they would draw him in; shining lizards crept up the wall, glanced at him with their glittering eyes, and then wriggled hurriedly into the garden, which he could see through a grated gate under a great arch.
Behind and among the shrubbery and trees he could see all sorts of marble figures; goat-footed heathen gods, making awful faces; small hump-backed dwarfs with cocked hats; hunters with puffed-out cheeks blowing the horn; ladies with farthingales and horse-heads; urns around which salamanders, dragons, and other poisonous worms, with open jaws and red tongues, dragged their slimy lengths; and many other indescribable, diabolical objects.
Among all these grinning creatures strutted a peacock, in which certainly pride made a most ridiculous figure, as he craned his beautiful neck in the brilliant sunlight, and dragged his gorgeous tail—alas! by means of the ugliest feet and legs ever made.
Suddenly the gilded, grated door flew open, an old Moor came out, bowed low before the forester with his hands meekly crossed before him, invited him by a wave of the hand to follow him, and both entered the garden.
Intoxicating clouds of perfume floated toward him from every bush and hedge.
Wonderful, never-before-seen flowers nodded to him in greeting from their slender stalks, and bent before him their lovely heads.
Brilliant birds flew from branch to branch before him, and sang with almost human voice.
Then an ugly sea-cat threw itself down from some tree, with its winding tail twisted around some branch, ground the teeth with a horrid grin, and sprang back into the thick foliage.
From a side path a purple stork came forward with solemn gravity, twisted the long neck up and down to affected compliment, scraped with his thin legs behind him, and then walked resolutely before the forester and the conducting Moor, looking almost constantly back to see if they were following.
In one of the marble basins a stone vintager upset continually the cask, and the clear, foaming new wine that streamed from the bung-hole bubbled up in the face of the sipping boy; in another an idol, ending in a fish's tail, blew out of a shell the clear stream in the air, and the dust of drops shone in the light like diamonds and rubies. White temples with ivy-entwined pillars glittered behind the hedges.
The forester followed like one in a dream, resisting, yet drawn on by an irresistible, enchanting power, until they reached a colossal castle, built in a style perfectly unknown to him.
He climbed a marble flight of steps, and went on over costly carpets, so soft and smooth that he could not hear his own steps.
The fragrance of balsamic spices floated delightfully on the air from censers in every chamber.
Richly-worked tapestry covered the walls, the softest cushions invited to repose, the light, like a soft twilight, fell through green windows, and composed the spirit to a sweet calmness and peace.
From the lofty ceiling rare birds warbled their delicious melodies in golden cages, and a grey parrot sat on his perch and pecked with his crooked bill the golden wires of his hated cage.
Here the Moor stood still, threw open a folding-door and pushed the benumbed forester into a great salon.
In the vast chamber he stood fascinated, like one under enchantment, and gazed upon the extraordinary objects on every side. Around the costly chamber, near the magnificent walls, stood all sorts of animals in life-size, in beaten gold, a perfect imitation of nature. Amazed, the forester gazed at the beautiful forms. He never could have satisfied his eyes with looking; and who knows how long he might have stood there, if through another door the three men had not entered whom he had so often seen near Scharzfels?
They approached him, pressed his hand in the most friendly manner, and inquired how the chamber pleased him, and which piece he would choose.
After he had expressed his astonishment at the way he had been introduced into the castle, the forester, in reply to the question as to what object he should prefer if permitted to choose, said he would unhesitatingly select the stag with his beautiful antlers.
After some conversation, the eldest of the three said: "You have known us many years, and are aware that we went frequently to Scharzfels to search for metals and stones, which you stupid Germans do not prize, but which are, notwithstanding, of great value. We have now sufficient wealth, but we would wish to thank you for your forbearance, and entertain you as an honoured guest."
The forester was conducted to a salle à manger glittering with gold, silver, and crystal. The rarest exotics beautified the table, and stood in graceful baskets and vases in every part of the apartment.
The most delicious viands and oldest wines were served, and not till a late hour did the merry party seek repose. The forester sank, in his silken couch, quickly into the arms of friendly sleep.
On awaking, he looked in surprise around him, for he lay under the shady beach in full view of Schloss Scharzfels.
"What a droll dream!" he cried, springing up and brushing the grass and moss from his clothes. But he stood as if transfixed, as he beheld the stag he wished for—the golden stag with great diamond eyes—lying in the grass beside him! The three men he never saw again, not even on St. John's Day.
The Steinkirche[[1]] and the Hermit.
[[1]] Steinkirche—stone church.
In the grey days long ago, when paganism ruled the land, there stood on the hills near the cave called the Steinkirche—altars to the gods.
Bright were the fires to Krodo in the darkness of the night, and on the opposite cliffs rose the fire pillar in honour of the goddess Ostera.[[2]]
[[2]] From Ostera we have the name Easter.
The crackling flames illuminated the country and the mountains, and invited the inhabitants of the near-lying vales and heights to the wild customs, the bloody sacrifices, and the raving dance of heathenism.
Then came from a southern land a hermit to this district. He beheld the smoking sacrificial altars, he heard the songs of the reeling, staggering heathen, and with a slow and solemn tread he climbed the mountain.
The peculiar, reverence-awaking appearance of the stranger produced quiet among the raging throng. One seated himself here, another there, another leaned on his spear, and all listened in silence and attention to what the strange figure might have to say to them.
And as the tempest with hollow moans and wails sweeps over the tree-tops, so the aged stranger lifted up his voice, and preached to the assembly the Christian faith with ever-increasing enthusiasm.
At first they heard quietly his earnest words; but as he began to condemn the gods so dear to them, and challenged them to break in pieces their idols, and turn to the worship of the only true God, their rage kindled.
They sprang to their feet, forced him to silence, and after a short consultation voted unanimously that the blasphemer of their gods must die.
In a few moments the trembling old man was seized by the giant forms, led down from the summit of the mountain to a place suitable for the execution.
The hermit sent up a petition to the Almighty for strength and courage in the trying moment, released himself from their arms with a Samson strength, seized from one standing next him a wooden battle-axe, and thus addressed the bloodthirsty multitude:
"So sure as I with this weak tool split this firm rock, so sure as this wood produces a temple for the worship of the one eternal God in this immovable mass of stone, so true is the word, the gospel, which I proclaim to you."
When he had uttered these words, he struck with trembling arm the rough cliff, and lo! the firm rock yielded like soft clay to the weak blow of the wooden axe!
And at this moment the sun shone forth from behind thick clouds, bathing rocks and wood with a warm, rosy light, and the birds in a thousand voices sang the praises of Creator and Father.
And the hearts of the wild Sassen[[3]] were opened; with one mind they sank on their knees in reverence and adoration before the God of the white-headed old man who had received the power to work such a miracle.
[[3]] Sassen—Old German for Saxon.
They vowed to a man henceforth to forsake the worship of Krodo, to remain true to the new faith, followed the venerable hermit to the banks of the Oder, and were baptized into Christ's death and resurrection, and from every side the people flocked to hear the words of the apostle.
Thus was formed in the rugged, steep cliff the primeval cave, the Steinkirche, the meeting-place of the first Christians of this neighbourhood.