The Burggeist of the Haarburg11
Burggeist—patron spirit.
The mountain called the Haarburg, which has a summit of only small circumference, bore in a long-forgotten time a fortress, which, like most ancient castles, consisted of a single strong tower.
In its walls were housed the first lords of Wernigerode. But the mountain on which the present Schloss Wernigerode stands was adorned only with the primeval forest.
For centuries the occupants of the Haarburg felt themselves happy in the grey giant tower, until a Graf Bodo dwelt in it. He was the father of a numerous progeny, and the tower grew too small for all the children and domestics, and he often felt a wish to have a more capacious dwelling.
An addition to the tower was not to be thought of, in consequence of the small space on the mountain summit; and one evening, as he sat with his wife before the entrance to the Haarburg, and looked out on the beautiful landscape, he said to her, pointing toward the mountain where the present castle stands:
“What thinkest thou? Would it not be well if we could live yonder? The mountain has plenty of space; and there would be room to build spacious salons and chambers, and even a chapel, and a single moat around the whole; then we should be able to entertain our friends, as many as could come. What is thy opinion?”
The lady of the castle quite agreed with her husband. They conversed long on the subject, and only separated as darkness began to settle over the vales and mountains, and the benevolent Luna hung out her silver lamp.
The night was lovely, and the Countess could not rest or sleep. She opened the window, and gazed at the shining moon, sank in thought, and did not observe that the moments fled swiftly, and midnight and the owls already hovered over her head.
Then, out of a corner of the chamber, with light, noiseless steps, issued an odd being, a little man, with an old, wrinkled face, a long grey beard, but with not disagreeable features.
His attire consisted of a grey coat and a pointed hat, and he carried a staff.
Silently the figure approached the thinking, dreaming Countess, on whose form the soft moonlight fell, and then twitched gently her garment with his tiny hand.
Alarmed, the Countess turned round, but lost all fear so soon as she beheld the form of the grey man.
She had recognised the Burggeist, who appeared seldom, but always brought happiness with him, and inquired in a gentle voice:
“What wilt them from me, thou good spirit?”
“I saw thee at such a late hour sitting in troubled thought,” replied the patron spirit, in a melodious voice, “and came to ask the cause of thy sorrow. What trouble lies so heavily at thy heart?”
“No sorrow troubles me,” said the Countess, smiling. “Only a wish moved my soul.”
“And what might that be?” inquired the spirit, with strained attention.
“My husband,” replied the Countess, “would wish this fortress on that spacious mountain opposite. He declares that we cannot live longer here; and I must say, after due reflection, he is perfectly right.”
“Does it no longer please thee here?” asked the dwarf, with a quick-clouding face. “Ye men are right difficult to please! Thy ancestors have dwelt here for ages, happy and contented, and now ye would forsake the tower that has sheltered thy race so long. Ye are very ungrateful. If I had known that that was all that troubled thee, I should not have left my hiding-place. But it is already late; seek thy couch and rest well!”
The spirit vanished, and the Countess followed his advice; but troubled dreams sported around the head of the sleeping lady, and fantastic scenes passed before her fancy.
It seemed as if she saw the dwarf from her window go out at the entrance of the tower, large as a giant, striking in the air with his hands all sorts of odd signs and motions, and with a powerful voice she heard him cry: “Slide on! Slide on!”2
And hardly were these words out of his mouth when the Haarburg was raised on unseen hands from its foundations high in the air, so high that the Countess was seized with giddiness, and awoke in terror.
As she opened her eyes it was already light; but the sun had not yet risen above the mountains, so she could only have slept a short time, but felt so much strengthened and refreshed that she rose, dressed, and went to the window to enjoy the fresh morning. But who shall describe her amazement when she saw the town of Wernigerode directly beneath, and on closer observation found that the old tower Haarburg had been moved in the night to the mountain where her husband had so earnestly desired to have it.
As soon as her first astonishment had passed, the Countess hastened to her still slumbering husband, led him to the window, and feasted her eyes on his boundless astonishment and joy.
Filled with gratitude, she called the benevolent dwarf, to thank him; but he did not answer the summons, and has never been seen in the new Schloss.
Notes
2 “Rücke dich! Rücke dich!”