"God created the Giants, that they might kill the wild beasts, and the great dragons (_wurm_), that the Dwarfs might thereby be more secure.

But in a few years the Giants would too much oppress the Dwarfs, and the Giants became altogether wicked and faithless.

"God then created the Heroes; 'and be it known that the Heroes were for many years right true and worthy, and they then came to the aid of the Dwarfs against the faithless Giants;'--God made them strong, and their thoughts were of manhood, according to honour, and of combats and war."

We will divide the objects of German popular belief at the present day, into four classes:--1. Dwarfs; 2. Wild-women; 3. Kobolds; 4. Nixes.

FOOTNOTES:

[245] The only remnant is _Alp_, the nightmare; the _elfen_ of modern writers is merely an adoption of the English _elves_.

[246] The edition of this poem which we have used, is that by Schonhuth, Leipzig, 1841.

[247] Tarn from _taren_, to dare, says Dobenek, because it gave courage along with invisibility. It comes more probably we think from the old German _ternen_, to hide. Kappe is properly a cloak, though the Tarnkappe or Nebelkappe is generally represented as a cap, or hat.

[248] From _hehlen_, to conceal.

[249] _Horny Siegfred_; for when he slew the dragon, he bathed himself in his blood, and became horny and invulnerable everywhere except in one spot between his shoulders, where a linden leaf stuck. In the Nibelungen Lied, (_st. 100_), Hagene says,

Yet still more know I of him--this to me is certain, A terrible Lind-dragon the hero's hand hath slain; He in the blood him bathed, and horny grew his skin; Hence woundeth him no weapon, full oft it hath been seen.

[250] MM. Grimm thought at one time that this name was properly Engel, and that it was connected with the chances of Alp, Alf, to Engel (see above, p. 67). They query at what time the dim _Engelein_ first came into use, and when the angels were first represented under the form of children--a practice evidently derived from the idea of the Elves. In Otfried and other writers of the ninth and tenth centuries, they say, the angels are depicted as young men; but in the latter half of the thirteenth, a popular preacher named Berthold, says: _Ir schet wol daz si allesamt sint juncliche gemalet; als ein kint daz da vunf jar all ist swa man sie malet._

[251] Elberich, (the Albrich of the Nibelungen Lied,) as we have said (above p. 40), is Oberon. From the usual change of _l_ into _u_ (as _al_, _au_, _col_, _cou_, etc.), in the French language, Elberich or Albrich (derived from Alp, Alf) becomes Auberich; and _ich_ not being a French termination, the diminutive _on_ was substituted, and so it became Auberon, or Oberon; a much more likely origin than the usual one from _L'aube du jour_. For this derivation of Oberon we are indebted to Dr. Grimm.

[252] Probably Saida, _i.e._ Sidon.

[253] _i. e._ Mount Tabor.

[254] This may have suggested the well-known circumstance in Huon de Bordeaux.

[255] So Oberon in Huon de Bordeaux.

[256] Str. 1564, _seq._

[257] Grimm, Deut. Mythol., p. 398, _seq._

[258] See above, pp. 19, 169; below, _Ireland_; and Grimm, _ut sup._ p. 1216. The swan-dresses also occur in the Arabian tales of Jahanshah and Hassan of Bassora in Trebutien's Arabian Nights.

[259] Poesies de Marie de France, i. 177, _seq._

DWARFS.

Fort, fort! Mich schau' die Sonne nicht, Ich darf nicht langer harren; Mich Elfenkind vor ihren Licht Sahst du sum Fels erstarren.

LA MOTTE FOUQUe.

Away! let not the sun view me, I dare no longer stay; An Elfin-child thou wouldst me see, To stone turn at his ray.

These beings are called Zwerge (_Dwarfs_), Berg- and Erd-manlein (_Hill_ and _Ground-mannikins_), the Stille Volk (_Still-people_), and the Kleine Volk (_Little-people_).[260] The following account of the Still-people at Plesse will give the popular idea respecting them.[261]

At Plesse, a castle in the mountains in Hesse, are various springs, wells, clefts and holes in the rocks, in which, according to popular tradition, the Dwarfs, called the Still-people, dwell. They are silent and beneficent, and willingly serve those who have the good fortune to please them. If injured they vent their anger, not on mankind, but on the cattle, which they plague and torment. This subterranean race has no proper communication with mankind, but pass their lives within the earth, where their apartments and chambers are filled with gold and precious stones. Should occasion require their visit to the surface of the earth, they accomplish the business in the night, and not by day.

This Hill-people are of flesh and bone, like mankind, they bear children and die, but in addition to the ordinary faculties of humanity, they have the power of making themselves invisible, and of passing through rocks and walls, with the same facility as through the air. They sometimes appear to men, lead them with them into clifts, and if the strangers prove agreeable to them, present them with valuable gifts.[262]

_The Hill-Man at the Dance._

Old people have positively asserted that some years ago, at the celebration of a wedding in the village of Glass, a couple of miles from the Wunderberg, and the same distance from the city of Saltzburg, there came toward evening a little Hill-man out of the Wunderberg. He desired all the guests to be merry and cheerful, and begged to be permitted to join in their dance, which request was not refused. He accordingly danced three dances with some of the maidens of good repute, and with a gracefulness that inspired all present with admiration and delight.

After the dance he returned them his thanks, accompanied by a present to each of the bridal party of three pieces of money of an unknown coin, each of which they estimated to be worth four creutzers. Moreover, he recommended them to dwell in peace and concord, to live like Christians, and, by a pious education, to bring up their children in goodness. He told them to lay up these coins with their money, and constantly to think of him, and so they would rarely come to distress; but warned them against becoming proud, and advised them, on the contrary, to relieve their neighbours with their superfluities.

The Hill-man remained with them till night, and took some meat and drink from each as they offered it to him, but only very little. He then renewed his thanks, and concluded by begging of one of the company to put him over the river Satzach, opposite the mountain.

There was at the wedding a boatman, named John Standl, who got ready to comply with the dwarf's request, and they went together to the water's-edge. As they were crossing, the man asked for his payment, and the Hill-man humbly presented him threepence. The boatman utterly rejected this paltry payment; but the little man gave him for answer, that he should not let that annoy him, but keep the threepence safe, and he would never suffer want, provided he put a restraint on arrogance. He gave him at the same time, a little stone with these words: "Hang this on your neck, and you will never be drowned in the water." And of this he had a proof that very year. Finally, the Hill-man exhorted him to lead a pious and humble life, and being landed on the opposite bank, departed speedily from the place.[263]

_The Dwarf's Feast._

There appeared in the night to one of the Counts von Hoya, an extremely small little man. The count was utterly amazed at him, but he bid him not to be frightened; said he had a request to make of him, and entreated that he might not be refused. The count gave a willing assent, qualified with the provision, that the thing requested should be a matter which lay in his power, and would not be injurious to him or his. The little man then said, "There will come tomorrow night some people to thy house, and make a feast, if thou will lend them thy kitchen, and hall for as long as they want them, and order thy servants to go to sleep, and no one to look at what they are doing or are about; and also let no one know of it but thyself; only do this and we shall be grateful to thee for thy courtesy: thou and thy family will be the better of it; nor will it be in any way hurtful to thee or thine." The count readily gave his consent, and on the following night there came, as if they were a travelling party, over the bridge into the house a great crowd of little people, exactly such as the Hill-mannikins are described to be. They cooked, cut up wood, and laid out the dishes in the kitchen, and had every appearance of being about preparing a great entertainment.

When it drew near the morning, and they were about to take their departure, the little man came again up to the count, and with many thanks, presented him a sword, a salamander-cloth, and a golden ring, in which there was inserted a red-lion, with directions for himself and his descendants to keep these three articles safe; and so long as they kept them together all would be at unity and well in the county, but as soon as they were separated from each other it would be a token that there was evil coming on the county: the red lion too would always become pale when one of the family was to die.

They were long preserved in the family; but in the time when count Jobst and his brothers were in their minority, and Francis von Halle was governor of the land, two of the articles, the sword and the salamander-cloth, were taken away, but the ring remained with the family until they became extinct. What has become of it since is unknown.[264]

_The Friendly Dwarfs._

Close to the little town of Dardesheim, between Halberstadt and Brunswick, is a spring of the finest water called the Smansborn, and which flows out of a hill in which in old times the dwarfs dwelt. When the former inhabitants of the country were in want of a holiday-dress, or, at a family festival, of any rare utensils, they went and stood before this Dwarf-hill, knocked three times, and pronounced their petition in a distinct and audible tone, adding,

Before the sun is up to-morrow.

At the hill shall be the things we borrow.[265]

The Dwarfs thought themselves sufficiently compensated if there was only some of the festive victuals set down before the hill.

_Wedding Feast of the Little People._

The little people of the Eilenburg in Saxony had occasion to celebrate a wedding, and with that intent passed one night through the key-hole and the window-slits into the castle-hall, and jumped down on the smooth level floor like peas on a barn floor. The noise awoke the old count, who was sleeping in the hall in his high four-post bed, and on opening his eyes, he wondered not a little at the sight of such a number of the little fellows.

One of them appareled as a herald came up to him, and addressing him with the utmost courtesy and in very polite terms invited him to share in their festivity. "We, however," added he, "have one request to make, which is, that you alone should be present, and that none of your people should presume to look on with you, or to cast so much as one glance." The old count answered in a friendly tone, "Since you have disturbed my sleep, I will join your company." A little small woman was now introduced to him; little torch-bearers took their places; and cricket-music struck up. The count found great difficulty to keep from losing the little woman in the dance, she jumped away from him so lightly, and at last whirled him about at such a rate that he could with difficulty recover his breath.

But in the very middle of their spritely dance, suddenly all became still, the music ceased, and the whole company hurried to the slits of the doors, mouse-holes, and everywhere else where there was a corner to slip into. The bride-pair, the heralds, and dancers, looked upwards to a hole that was in the ceiling of the hall, and there discovered the face of the old countess, who overflowing with curiosity, was looking down on the joyous assembly. They then bowed themselves before the count, and the person who had invited him stept forward again and thanked him for the hospitality he had shown them: "But," said he, "since our wedding and our festivity has been thus disturbed by another eye gazing on it, your race shall henceforward never count more than seven Eilenburgs."

They then pressed out after one another with great speed, and soon all was silent, and the old count alone in the dark hall. The curse has lasted till the present time, and one of six living knights of Eilenburg has always died before the seventh was born.[266]

_Smith Riechert._