Barbarossa and the Kyffhäuser
On this mountain that overlooks the Golden Plain, amid the beech and oak woods that clothe it, stand the ruins of a square tower built of red sandstone, broken walls, and arches of the ancient gateway, gables, and the remains of the chapel of the fortress, where the first Electors and Emperors of Germany held their court.
Tradition and romance linger with an irresistible fascination around these lonely ruins.
Tradition tells us that Barbarossa never died, but remains enchanted in the heart of the Kyffhäuser.
He sits in an ivory chair by a marble table, his head resting upon his arm, and his long red beard has overgrown the whole table like moss. He wears the imperial mantle, and the knightly forms of his old courtiers, like spectres, come forth from their rocky chambers and place upon his aged uncovered head the oldest crown of Germany glittering with diamonds. His innocent daughter is his only attendant, or, according to other legends, a dwarf.
The Kaiser’s eyes are closed, but at times he seems to awake from his enchanted slumber, and new life seems to animate the stiffened limbs. But he cannot awake, nor rise from his seat, nor leave the enchanted chamber until Germany’s enemies are fallen and she is free. He seemed about to throw off the enchanted fetters in the days of Maximilian, again in Luther’s time.
At the time of the Rhine Treaty, and when the first Napoleon won the brilliant victories of Ulm, Austerlitz, and Jena, the eyes of the old Redbeard sparkled with anger and grief, and at his cry of rage, lightnings flashed through the dark chambers of the Kyffhäuser, thunders rolled through its rocky caverns, and Barbarossa slumbered again till the great victory of the Allies in the “Battle of the Nations”1 awaked him, and at the death of Napoleon on St. Helena he broke the enchantment, and Napoleon sits in his place.
There are many versions of this legend.
One holy day, a miner rambling to the Kyffhäuser, to rest under the trees and indulge in devotional reflections, saw, as he reached the ruined tower, a monk with a long grey beard, who addressed him, saying, “Come! I have long expected thee; thou shalt see the enchanted Kaiser. Graumannel has brought me the Springwurzel,2 and I must have a mortal to accompany me; no evil shall befall thee.”
The monk leads him to a green spot surrounded with walls, forms with the staff which he carries a circle around him and his companion, takes from his pocket a gold-coloured velvet book, and begins to murmur and read, no word of which the miner understands.
Suddenly there is a terrible clap of thunder. The mountain cracks, the circle on which they stand becomes loose, and sinks slowly into the mountain; the miner, in terror, clings to the cowl of the monk. At last they reach firm ground.
Now they go through a long dark passage to great brass gates. The monk touches them with the Springwurzel, and immediately they open. They enter an aisle, lighted by a brilliant lamp, and again stand before a door.
The monk cries, “Hephata!” and the door opens.
They enter a large, brilliantly lighted, magnificent chapel; the walls are of marble; the altar is of beaten gold, and its eternal lamp bathes all in a wondrous light.
The miner cannot gaze enough at the marvellous sight, crosses and recrosses himself; the monk kneels at the golden altar and says an Ave Maria. Then he rises, commands his companion to remain standing in the middle of the chapel, and approaches the door opposite the one by which they had entered.
At his mighty word this door opens also.
The imperial chamber, or throne-room, is brilliantly lighted; on the glittering golden throne, in imperial robes, sits Barbarossa, sad and silent.
The monk approaches the enchanted sovereign and bows reverently.
The Kaiser returns the greeting graciously, and the monk lifts with great solemnity some object from the ground, again bows low before the monarch, and retires slowly to the door, seizes the hand of the astonished miner, who has gazed as in a dream at the splendour of the enchanted chamber, leads him to the green circle, which begins at once to rise, and soon reaches the summit of the mountain.
The miner draws a long breath, receives two small metal rods from the monk, who exclaims, “Gelobt sei Jesus Christ!” and before the bewildered man can respond, “In Ewigkeit!” the mysterious monk has vanished.
Notes
1 Völkerschlacht—battle of Leipzig.
2 See Tidian’s Cave.