The Gegensteine.
In the midst of the bright landscape opposite Schloss Ballenstedt rise the two huge boulders called the Gegensteine, which mark the eastern termination of the Devil's Wall.
The taste and passion for the wonderful and mysterious are too strong in the human mind to permit of these majestic rocks being without their Sage.
In the time long ago, when all this district was covered with dense forests, swamps, and morasses, where now ripen the golden corn, fruits, and every blessing that crowns the husbandman's toil, and wild beasts preyed on the around-lying mountains, evil spirits practised their devices in the Gegensteine.
In the distance one could see during the night, especially at midnight, now fiery balls, now flames of fire rising in the air, and could hear death cries, or the most delightful tones, which the evil spirits employed to decoy unwary mortals to destruction.
Many who ridiculed the idea of danger, paying no heed to friendly warnings, forced their way through thorns and thickets to behold the mystery, and returned no more.
They were carried by demons through the air, and one heard their moanings of despair without the power to save them.
Only he who was consecrated to God could approach the Gegensteine unharmed.
One morning a farmer rode before sunrise from Ballenstedt to Quedlinburg, to offer prayers and obtain absolution in the convent church, only just founded by the Kaiserin Matilda—for in Ballenstedt there was neither church nor pater.
Lost in devotional thoughts, hence without fear, he rode quietly along; an irresistible languor seized him and he fell asleep.
The nag, feeling no longer the hand guiding the reins, turned aside to seek for himself a fresh breakfast, stood still, and began to graze.
The farmer awoke. He rubbed his eyes in amazement, for he found himself in an unknown spot, in a dark thicket, without road or path; all around him towered mighty rocks that almost shut him in. He heard the roaring of water outside, beneath him a raging din, and before him yawned an awful chasm.
The farmer had never heard of such a wild and savage scene so near his place of residence, and fancied he had been transplanted through enchantment to some distant land. Anxiously he gazed around him, convinced himself he was not dreaming, for the sun was shining upon the savage rocks, and his nag grazed unconcerned.
The thought occurred to him he might be in the domains of wicked spirits, and a cold shudder ran over him; but he lacked the courage to turn back, fearing some monster might follow him. He was indeed in a painful position, for it was out of the question that he should remain where he was.
Meanwhile the terrible din and roar had ceased, all grew peaceful, the birds sang joyfully in the sunlight, and all notion of danger vanished from his mind.
He gained confidence as he looked around him to mark the place, resolving the next day to bring his wife and children to see it, and convince them that all the tales about the terrors of the Gegensteine were untrue.
"But what may there be in the cave yonder?" he thought.
He would like to know, and now arose a struggle between curiosity and fear.
"I will venture it!" he cried, dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, and went with light steps, as if afraid some one might hear him, over the fallen rocks, and stretched his neck to look into the cave.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" he cried, clapping his hands together above his head; "what do my eyes see?" And what did they?
In the middle of the pit, or cavern, a large brewer's copper, full of gold pieces, every one as large as the palm of the hand.
Upon it rested a silver tray with a border of fiery carbuncles, and letters and figures in the centre formed of garnets.
Beside the copper lay a new driving-whip, and on the other side lay a savage black bull-dog.
The farmer stood with crossed arms for at least ten minutes, gazing at the immense treasures, thinking what was to be done to secure them without falling into the power of the savage guard—the dog.
At last he exclaimed, "I will attempt it. I will not take much, but I must have the whip!"
Encouraged, he walked into the cave, his eye always fixed on the dog, till at last he reached the copper; the dog did not move; he plunged both hands into the gold coins, filled his pockets, and with two leaps reached his horse, where he sank down overcome with terror and joy.
Recovered, he emptied his pockets, counted the glittering coins, and dreamed thereby of a happy future.
His horse neighed and pawed the ground impatiently.
"Patience, old nag!" he cried; "I must have that beautiful whip." And again he descended emboldened into the cave, seized the whip, and turned to go, when his eye fell again upon the tempting gold; he could not resist the allurement, and plunged both hands, twice into the copper.
At the second handful the dog rose and ground his teeth in rage; but Jacob had lost all fear, and cried, "Growl away; but one must have all good things three times, and I shall take another handful."
But as he did so the eyes of the dog shot fire, an awful groaning and noise, a raging storm, thunder, lightning, with cracking of the rocks, broke forth in fury. The earth trembled, the rocks fell upon each other, trees were rent into splinters, torrents burst from the rocks, and the heavens enveloped themselves in night and flames.
The unlucky farmer never knew how he got out of the cave; only, as he came to himself, he remembered having seen the Gott-sei-bei-uns[[1]] in the midst of a terrible confusion and fire-rain in giant form, surrounded by a thousand imps, rise out of the pit, holding in one claw the copper with the gold, in the other the tray.
[[1]] Gott-sei-bei-uns—"God be with us." A name given to the devil; since when he appeared in disguise to deceive people, he is said to have used this hypocritical expression.
Was he or had he been dreaming? No, for had he not the whip in his hand?
But the tremendous weight in his pockets weighed him down. Rejoiced to think of his treasure, he dived into his pockets for the gold—and what did he find?
For every piece of gold a pebble, as large again, and not one piece of gold!
He stared at the stones, crying and trembling with pain and distress.
Still weeping, he mounted his horse, reached home, sank exhausted, laid himself down in his bed, from which he never rose; and in a fortnight he lay in his grave.
Since then the foul fiend has guarded his treasures in the Gegensteine, and in only one way can the enchantment be broken and the treasure won.
When a maiden, born on the ocean, pure as the dawn, comes here alone at the midnight hour of Halloween, kneels, and with raised hand calls her own name aloud three times, and then entreats the Most High to break the enchantment, and annihilate the monster in the rocks, they shall sink at her prayer, the treasures of gold and gems shall rise to the surface, become the maiden's possession, and the hobgoblin shall vanish for ever.
The Three Crystal Goblets and Three Golden
Balls of Schloss Falkenstein.
The Lady von Falkenstein was once summoned by the Berggeist[[1]] to attend the Queen of the Gnomes in her extremity. He conducted her through long dark subterranean passages to her fairy Majesty; and, after the birth of a son, the Queen presented her with three golden balls and three crystal goblets, with the warning to preserve them well, for the fate of the Asseburgs was closely connected with them.
[[1]] Berggeist—spirit of the mountains.
The three golden balls have been unhappily lost, and only two goblets remain.
Two sons of the family, when visiting their widowed mother at Wallhausen, besought her to permit them to drink out of these mysterious goblets, which she imprudently allowed; and as they struck their glasses together with a merry prosit, one was shattered.
Deep melancholy seized the youths, and during their drive home the wild horses plunged with the carriage into a deep abyss, where the youths were found broken in pieces.
Since then the two remaining ghostly gifts have been sacredly preserved—one, of green-yellow glass, in Hinneburg; the other, of mountain crystal, in Falkenstein.