The Marvellous History of the Shadowless Man, and The Cold Heart

by Adelbert von Chamisso; Wilhelm Hauff

"He is the lord of this forest," answered the old man, "and for one of your age not to have heard of him tells me that your home lies on the other side of the Pine-grove, or even farther off. But I will relate to you what I know of Dutch Michael, and what people say of him. About a hundred years ago, at least, so my grandfather told me, there were no more honourable people than the Black-Foresters in the whole world. But now that money is so plentiful, dishonesty and evil are everywhere. Our young lads dance and riot on the Sabbath, and swear terribly. But formerly it was quite otherwise, and, though he himself were to look through the window at this moment, I say, as I have said time and again, that Dutch Michael is to blame for all the mischief. Well--one hundred or more years ago, there lived a rich timber merchant who had a very large business; he traded far away down the Rhine, and his affairs prospered, for he was a good Christian. One evening there came to his door a man, the like of whom he had never cast eyes upon. He was dressed as one of our young Black-Foresters, but was a good head taller than any of them; indeed, one could hardly have believed that there was such a giant in existence. The fellow asked the merchant for work, and the latter, seeing how strong and capable of doing heavy work he looked, was ready to engage him at a fair wage. So the matter was agreed upon. Michael turned out to be a workman such as that merchant had never yet employed. He was equal to three men at felling trees, and where it took six men to carry one end of a trunk, he could manage the other end all by himself. But after six months at tree-felling, he went one day to his master, and demanded of him: 'I have been hewing wood long enough in this place, and I would like to know where the felled trunks go; how would it be if you were to let me go for a time on one of your rafts?'"

The timber merchant replied: "I won't stand in your way, Michael, if you want to see a bit of the world. It's true that I am in sore need of strong fellows like yourself for the tree-felling, while on the rafts it is more a question of skill. For this once, however, you may go!"

And thus it was; the raft upon which he was to go was in eight parts, the last part being composed of enormous roof-beams. But what happened? The night before starting, this huge fellow brought down to the water yet another eight beams, bigger and longer than any that had ever been seen, so much so that everybody was amazed. And no one knows to this day where he had felled them. The merchant chuckled to himself when he calculated the price these beams would fetch. But Michael said: "These are for me to travel upon, for I could not make any headway on those little splinters."

His grateful master then wished to present him with a pair of raftsmen's boots, but Michael put them aside, and brought forth another pair, such as had never before been made. My grandfather used to declare that they must have weighed a hundred pounds, and were five feet in length.

The raft went on its way, and as Michael had hitherto astonished the wood-cutters, he now caused the raftsmen to marvel; for the raft, instead of going more slowly down the stream, as one would have thought, taking the monstrous baulks into consideration, it simply flew forward like an arrow as soon as it reached the Neckar. And when it came to a bend in the river where otherwise the raftsmen would have had trouble to keep the raft in mid-stream or to prevent it from stranding, Michael would spring into the water, and with one push would force the raft to left or right, so that it escaped danger; and if they came to a shallow, he ran to the forepart of the raft, made them all lay aside their poles, laid a huge round beam on the sandbank, and with one push the raft sped over, so fast that land, trees and villages seemed to fly past. Thus they came to Cologne in about half the time it usually takes. Here it was that the wood was always sold at that time; but Michael addressed the raftsmen: "I can see that you are all good business men, and know how to manage your affairs to the best advantage! Do you suppose that here in Cologne they want all the timber which comes from the Black Forest for their own use? Not at all: they buy it from you at half its value, and then sell it at a higher price in Holland. Let us sell our smaller beams here, and then go on to Holland with the big ones; and what we receive above the usual price will be for our own profit."

Thus spoke the cunning Michael, and the others agreed; some because they wished to go to Holland, others for the sake of the money. There was only one honest man among them, and he tried to dissuade them from risking their master's goods, and from cheating him out of any higher price they might get. But they would not listen to him, and soon forgot the words he had said; though Dutch Michael did not forget them.

The raft continued its journey down the Rhine with Michael in command, so that it soon arrived at Rotterdam. There they received about four times the price usually obtained, while Michael's huge baulks fetched an enormous sum of money. When the Black Foresters saw so much gold they could scarcely contain themselves for joy. Michael divided the money into four parts, setting aside one for the master, and dividing the remainder among the men. With this they mixed with sailors and evil characters, spending their money in dissipation and debauchery in the taverns. As to the honest man, who had warned them, Dutch Michael is said to have sold him to a slave-dealer, for nothing more was ever heard of him.

From that day forth Holland has been the paradise of our Black Forest lads; the timber merchants knew nothing of this trade, and all the while money, swearing, evil habits, drink and gambling were being introduced by the raftsmen from Holland.

Dutch Michael, so the story goes, disappeared and was nowhere to be found; but it is certain that he did not die. For one hundred years his spirit has haunted the forest, and it is said that he has helped many to become rich, at the cost of their poor souls, of which I would rather not say any more. This much is certain, that on such stormy nights as this he is up in the Pine-grove, where no one fells trees, selecting the biggest pines. And my father has seen him take hold of one, four to five feet in thickness, and snap it as one would a reed. This is his gift to those who turn from the straight path to go to him; at midnight they carry their timber to the water, and fare away on it into Holland. Oh, if I were only king and lord of Holland, I would send him to the bottom with grape-shot; for every ship, the hull of which contains one single beam of Dutch Michael's felling, must come to grief. And that is the reason why one hears of so many shipwrecks; how otherwise could a fine, strong ship, as big as a church, sink in the open sea? Every time Dutch Michael fells a pine on a stormy night in the Black Forest, one of his old ones is sprung from the bottom of some ship, the water rushes in, and that ship with all on board is lost.

Such is the story of Dutch Michael, and it is but the truth when people declare that he is the author of all the evil which is committed in the Black Forest!