Swanhilde, and other fairy tales

Contents

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SWANHILDE 7

THE SHEPHERD BOY AND THE KING’S

I. The Seven Swabians

Near the city of Zwickau, in Southern Germany, lies the well-known swan-field — so called because of the large swannery situated within it. On the gentle slope of a hill that overlooked this little lake, and amidst the high rocks, dwelt a pious hermit named Benno. He had taken this name from that of the celebrated bishop of Misnia.

Nobody could say who Benno really was or whence he came. He had come there, some years before, a strong, robust pilgrim and settled down in the neighborhood of the swannery. Here he erected with his own hands a comfortable hermitage, and laid out a little garden, in which he planted foreign fruit-trees and fine grape-vines. He raised, also, sweet melons, which at that time were held as a great delicacy. With these pro- 7

.ozzno

THE SEVEN SWABIANS.

ducts of his garden he entertained all who came to see him.

His great hospitality, as well as his exceeding good humor, made him beloved by all. Those who dwelt in his neighborhood went to him in all their troubles, great or small, to receive comfort and counsel, which he always gave them gladly.

So the years went by until the time when the Marquis Frederick revolted against the Emperor Albrecht I., and the Swabian army laid waste the eastern coast of Germany. Already age had stripped the venerable Benno’s head of its natural covering; what hair yet remained upon it, was quite white ; he stooped ; he leaned heavily upon his cane, and had no longer in the spring strength to weed and dig his garden. He therefore wished to procure an assistant and companion ; but it was hard for him to find one who suited his fancy, for age had made him mistrustful and whimsical. An unexpected event gratified his wish, and found him a helpmate on whom he could lean, as on a staff.

The inhabitants of Misnia had, by fraud, and in a great battle, completely vanquished the Swabians and slaughtered them by hundreds. A

THE SEVEN SWABIANS.

panic seized the Swabian army; the call was given, “Let those who can, save themselves.” Every one, after the battle, who had two feet left, thanked God for his preservation, and made the best possible use of these members to escape from death. Many fled into the adjoining woods, and the remainder concealed themselves in the meadows.

Seven Swabians, the remnant of one faithful company of spearmen, swore to abide faithful to each other, never to be divided, but in unity to live or die. They succeeded, luckily, in escaping from their pursuers. They were all strong young men whom no foot soldiers could have out-run. At last, however, they were completely fagged out by their long-continued flight. As the night came on they consulted together as to where they were most likely to find some place of shel-

THE SEVEN SWABIANS.

ter and concealment. They did not consider themselves secure in the open fields ; they therefore determined to go to a village, close at hand, and there to carefully conceal themselves ; for they rightly conjectured that the Misnian troops had chosen that village for their encampment. The seven heroes were, therefore, very cautious, and hid themselves in the immense, unused oven of the village inn.

Now an oven is, indeed, not the most comfortable of beds ; before their great defeat, they would certainly not have been content with such quarters for the night ; but by this time they were ready to make the best of a necessity. Their extreme fatigue soon brought sleep and rest to their weary limbs and troubled minds. The unfortunate companions slept as soundly as if they were on the most luxurious beds, with naught to trouble or disturb them.

But, alas, before the seven sleepers awoke, they had already been discovered by a peasant woman.

Already the news of the victory had spread throughout the land ; in her great joy at the result of the battle, this woman had mixed a large cake, which she intended to bake early in the morning. So when she came to the oven and observed the soldiers quartered there, she perceived, at once, by their tattered coats, that

THE SEVEN SWABIANS.

these strange guests were fugitives from the vanquished army.

With all haste she ran to the village, and told the news to her neighbors. At once, a great troop of peasant women gathered together, armed with spits and oven forks, to besiege the oven and its contents. They first held a council, as to whether the enemy should be attacked with their weapons, or by fire ; for they were all determined that the seven Swabians should die. After some debate, they decided to use their weapons.

The strange weapons of attack, in the hands of the village women, instilled in them the spirit of revenge. The whole crowd rushed in with violence upon the heroes’ hiding-place ; and, heedless of the laws and rights of hospitality, the defenseless fugitives were awakened from

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their refreshing sleep by heavy blows and thrusts from the oven forks. By this unfriendly morning greeting, they realized their great danger, and poured forth their expostulations and entreaties, from the oven, praying most earnestly for their lives. But the inflexible women would not hear of mercy, and stabbed and beat the poor prisoners, helpless and imprisoned in the oven, until one of them lay still in death, and his unhappy companions were motionless in their curious dungeon.

Then the women secured the stove door on the outside, and marched triumphantly back to their homes.

Six of the soldiers had really, after this oven skirmish, remained shut up, but the seventh one, who was more ingenious and determined than the others, contrived to escape from their fate.

Searching for some way of escape he took his flight up the chimney, climbed to the roof, unperceived, thence slid down, and was free. With all the strength he possessed, he ran to the nearest woods, and wandered about, in continual fear of pursuit and death, until the sun had set. At last, from fatigue and hunger, he sank down under a forest oak ; and when, after a short time, the cool evening breezes had refreshed him, and in a measure revived his strength, he raised his eyes, and saw, at a little distance from him, a

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devout hermit, who, before a ruined wooden cross, was saying his prayers. This pious sight gave him courage; with humble reverence he approached the worthy man, knelt down behind him, and when the monk had finished his devotions, he extended to the stranger his blessing. When, however, he saw the pale and disfigured face, and tattered clothes, the monk concluded that he was a shield-bearer of the vanquished army, and entered into conversation with him. The honest Swabian related to him his sad story with unaffected candor, without concealing his great fear of death, for he had always thought of the destroying angel with extreme terror.

The good-natured hermit grieved for the innocent Swabian blood which had been shed, and he offered the stranger shelter and protection in his dwelling. To the frightened fugitive, the entrance to the gloomy grotto appeared like a bomb-proof. Not only the rocky vaults, but even the chapel, the larder, and the hermit’s cellar, which was indeed a natural cave, all appeared in his eyes, in the shape of a large oven ; one cold shiver after another crept over him.

But the kind old man soon encouraged him. He brought the poor fugitive water to wash his feet, set before him good bread and some garden fruit, for his evening meal, moistened with wine

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the dry tongue, which clave to the roof of his mouth, and prepared for him a couch of soft moss.

Friedbert, for that was our Swabian’s name, slept soundly until the next morning, when he was awakened by the pious Benno for prayers. By the time breakfast was over, he had forgotten all his fear and grief, and could not find words enough to thank his kind host for all he had done for him.

THE HERMIT ’S STORY.

II. "" The Hermit’s Story

After three days of the hermit’s hospitality, it seemed to Friedbert, the Swabian, time to leave the hermitage ; and yet he longed with all his heart to remain in this secure and peaceful retreat until the land was again quiet. Benno, on his part, found the worthy Swabian possessed of so much good sense, so faithful, and of such service to him in household duties, that he wished him to live there always. And so, the wishes of both agreeing, it was determined that Friedbert should remain with the hermit. He accordingly changed his soldier’s dress for a monk’s habit, and acted as a lay-brother in the hermitage, to take care of his aged protector, to attend to the garden and cooking, and to minister to the wants of pilgrims.

About the time of the solstice, when the spring

THE HE EMIT ’S STOBY.

yields to summer, Benno never failed to send his faithful servant, daily, to the swannery, to notice and bring him back word if any swans were to be seen on the pond, to observe their motions, and, particularly, to note the number together at one time. The old man was always much interested in the report. These accounts of the swans seemed to cheer him greatly ; but when, at the usual time, Friedbert brought back the news that no swans were to be seen on the pond, the aged man shook his head sadly, and remained for some days downcast and melancholy. The faithful Swabian was much grieved, and still more surprised at this change in the old man ; he therefore visited the swannery constantly, that he might bring him better news.

One day as Friedbert stood near the pond in the twilight, he saw some swans hover over the water. This he immediately reported to Benno, who, at the news, gave signs of the greatest joy. He had a far more sumptuous supper prepared than usual, and set wine upon the table. Both drank freely, and the good wine gave new strength and spirits to monk and soldier. The wortlry Benno threw off entirely his sad gravity, and became cheerful and talkative. '

He refilled his brother’s glass to the brim, and this done he spoke to him in the following words : —

THE HERMIT'S STORY.

“ My son, you have now served me faithfully for three long years ; it is time, therefore, you should receive some pay. But first I will tell you the story of my life, and my adventures at the swan-pond, which ripplesvand dances before our eyes in the breezes and the moonlight like a silver sea.

“ In my youth I was an impetuous, dauntless knight. My native land was Switzerland, and I was a descendant of the Earl of Kyburg. For a murder, which I rashly committed, I traveled to Rome, to be shriven by our holy father the Pope. He laid upon me as penance, the command that I should join a crusade to the Holy Land, and fight against the Saracens, with the strict injunction that I was never to return home, and that all my property was to be handed over to the church.

“ I took passage on a Venetian ship, and left port in good spirits, for fighting was but pleasure to me. But a contrary wind took possession of our sails. The sea grew rough, our little ship became a plaything in the hands of the waves, and was dashed against a projecting rock near the island of Haxos with such force that she went to pieces. As I was a good swimmer, I managed to reach shore, where I was received kindly by the inhabitants. I then went to Quisa, to the palace of Prince Zeno, and was welcomed there under the assumed name of a French knight.

THE HERMIT'S STORY.

There I saw the prince’s daughter, Helena, and soon forgot my vow to join the crusade.

“ All my energy, all my powers, were centered on one thing, namely, to please the young princess. My love for her grew stronger every hour. I showed her a thousand little attentions, and did all in my power to make the charming Helena return my love.

“By careful inquiry 1 learned that on court days she always wore drapery and ornaments of the color of my helmet-plume and scarf. She loved songs and music, and also lively round dances. She, herself, danced most charmingly. I often joined her, for a short time, when she was walking alone by the river side, or when she strolled by the dim light of the soft blue evening sky in her flower garden. But her father, Prince Zeno, was positively opposed to my w r ooing, and, as I would not desist from pressing my suit, I was one day seized by his body-guard and dragged away.

“Near the sea-coast on a high projecting rock, stood a strongly-built tower not more than a stone’s throw distant from the island, and only accessible by means of a draw-bridge, which was always guarded by soldiers.

“I was pushed into this dismal dungeon down a gigantic ladder ; which, as soon as my feet had reached the ground, was drawn up.

. THE HEBMIT'S STOBY.

“Perfect darkness reigned in this death-like hole, and a damp, earthy closeness almost stupefied my senses. I soon perceived that I was in the jaws of death ; for, as I sought a place in which to lie down and die, I stumbled over some, human bones which lay scattered on the ground, and on a half-mouldered basket. In despair, I laid me down on the hard stones and cried unto Death that he would free me from this living grave. But he sent this time his brother,

Sleep, who, for a time, made me forget my sorrow.

“ When I awoke, I saw, to my amazement, a light shining in the midst of the darkness ; when I approached it I found it to be a burning lamp, fastened in a basket which seemed to have been let down from above by means of a rope. I examined the basket, and found in it all kinds of choice food and some bottles of wine, also an oil jug with which to feed the lamp.

“ The light at once revealed to me all the horrors of this frightful dungeon, so that the satisfying of my appetite was dearly paid for by the loathsome sights which, by the light of the lamp, met my eyes. I, however, gathered together

THE HERMIT'S STORY.

some of the empty baskets which lay on the ground, and formed out of them a table and seat. I then fell to on the contents of the basket and made a hearty meal.

“ After some days, so it seemed to me, for Time in that subterranean cage had leaden wings, I heard a noise above me ; the ladder with the numberless steps came rolling down, and I saw a man descend on it whom I took for either a fellowsufferer or an executioner. My joy was equal to my surprise when I recognized a friend of mine, the physician of Prince Zeno. He had pleaded so hard for me, that the prince had granted him my life, with the condition that I immediately left the island of Naxos forever.

“ W e ascended quickly from the dungeon to the daylight, and when I took leave, with heartfelt thanks, of my rescuer, he imparted to me, as a great secret, the intelligence that Princess Helena was descended from a race of fairies and possessed the power to become, once every year, a swan ; ‘ Or/ said he, ‘ as she expresses it, to put on her swan disguise. She then flies to a far-off pond whose mysterious virtue preserves her beauty.

“‘Now/ continued the physician, ‘would it grieve you much to travel to this far-off place and dwell near the wonderful pond, and there

THE HERMIT'S STORY.

make to the beautiful Helena your confession of love, which she would hardly listen to in Naxos ? If this pleases you I will direct you how to find this pond. Therefore, pay great attention. Far off in the German Empire at the western end of the great chain of mountains, in the more level part of the mountainous district, the waters of some little streams meet and form a pond, which is called by the inhabitants of that region, the Swan Pond.

“ ‘ Here Helena delights, with her companions, to fly and swim in the form of swans. It will not be difficult for you to change these wonderful swans into their natural forms, for their feather robes are fastened on by a feather crown on the head. If you stand on the shore in the early morning hours before the rays of the risingsun have reached the water, or in the evening when the sun has just sunk in the horizon and his fading light yet reddens the heavens, mark well if any swans are to be seen. If it be that they are at that time leaving the water, or the bushes on the shore, you will soon perceive in a neighboring meadow, rich with flowers, a company of beautiful young ladies walking up and down, laughing and talking together. Your sharp eyes will soon discover for you whether or not the charming Helena is among the group. If she be there tarry not, but go and take posses-

THE HE EMIT ’S STOBY.

sion of the feathered robes which you will find on the shore. You will then have them in your power, for without their winged plumage they cannot fly away.’

“When the physician had finished speaking I was amazed at what he had said, and knew not whether to believe him or to think that he had told me a falsehood. His honest, straightforward manner, however, convinced me that he had spoken the truth.

“When I had thought in silence for some minutes, I answered him with full trust in all he had told me. ‘ Noble friend, conduct me at once to the ship. I will try the adventure you have proposed to me. I will, if needs be, cross the whole world, until I find the pond where the greatest wish I have on earth, may be realized.’

“Thereupon I took passage at once and sailed through the Hellespont to Constantinople. There I put on a pilgrim’s dress and traveled in company with a real pilgrim, who was just returning from the Holy Land. At the first mountain I parted with my companion, and wandered about for a long time until I found the long-sought swannery.

“Here, in its neighborhood, I built this hermitage. It was soon visited by many good people, who, believing me to have just returned from

THE HEBMIT'S story.

the Holy Land, sought from me the blessing and comfort of a holy man.

“ Soon after I had settled down here I built that reed hut on the shore, and used at times to lie concealed there looking out over the water, to spy out in secret the arrival of the swans, for I was certain that the physician had told me the truth.

“My watchfulness was at last rewarded. About the middle of the summer I saw swans swimming on the pond. Their forms seemed quite natural, but their loving, affectionate ways to each other seemed more like young maidens than swans. But I could never obtain a glimpse of the object I so longed to see. Three summers I watched in vain with impatient hope.

“The fourth summer came. I watched diligently from my hiding-place, and one morning just at the first dawn of day I heard a flapping of wings above me. Soon after I saw wandering along the shore of the pond, a party of maidens, and, as the daylight increased, I saw distinctly among them the form of the beautiful Helena.

“ My heart beat loudly within my breast. My joy and surprise overruled my better judgment and I quite forgot the instructions of the physician. Instead of securing the feathered robes, and thus obtaining full power to detain the maidens, I raised my voice in the ecstasy of my de-

THE HERMIT’S STORY.

light, and cried out loudly, 1 Helena of Naxos, do you not recognize your faithful knight whom love has driven here to dwell by this wonderful pond, in hopes of again meeting you ? ’ The maidens seemed greatly terrified at this unexpected call; they raised a great cry of alarm, rushed into the reeds, and soon after, re-appearing in the form of seven swans, flew high up in the air and disappeared.

“I now lamented my foolish impetuosity; I rent my dress, tore out my hair and showed in many other insane ways my frantic grief, until my wild excitement lost itself in grim despair.

“ I went sadly back to my lonely cloister, and there thought of nothing but of my sorrow and bitter regret.

“ Many years now I have lived here without any news of Helena or her visits to the pond, for which I have so anxiously waited. All I can think is that the fairy of beauty was driven from the pond by my thoughtlessness.

The <!Wa.ns

THE HE EMIT’ 8 STOBY.

“ In time the maidens came again and again to the pond, and in that rested all my hope. I watched carefully and with pleasure their every movement ; but the noble Helena was never among them. Under this false hope, time has bent my back, and marked deep furrows on my brow. Even now the movements of the swans interest me as much as ever ; for they always remind me of the adventure of my youth, and of the happiest dream of my life.

“ Yet I do not wish, Friedbert,” continued Benno to his attentive listener, “ that you, a robust youth, should dream away your life in this desolate place. The short time that yet remains to me on earth, you may abide with me ; but when you have done for me the last service which earthly hands can do, and laid my bones in the grave which I myself many years ago hewed in the rocks, then you shall go out into the world, and by honesty and virtue, earn your bread by the sweat of your brow. But before you go, you may try your luck, and see if here, by this pond, you can win a swan-maiden for a faithful, loving bride.”

The morning had already begun to dawn when the communicative old man finished his story and stretched himself out on his bed of dry leaves, and sought, at last, to take his night’s rest.

THE HEB MIT'S STOBY.

But no sleep came to Friedbert’s eyes. He sat himself down before the hermit’s door, and watched the rising sun. In fancy, he saw a swan in every swallow that flew above him.

After the night’s exertion, Father Benno laid down upon his bed; he fell asleep, and that night he died.

He was buried by his faithful companion, amid great lamentations from all the good people of the neighborhood. They truly mourned from their hearts the loss of the venerable monk, and ever after regarded his grave as a sacred spot.

All were clamorous to obtain some small relic of the hermit. Friedbert cut in small pieces the monk’s old cloak and hawthorn staff, to divide among them as keepsakes.

In time the crowd dispersed. Friedbert, now owner of the hermitage, could indulge in his own thoughts without interruption.

He watched, with great pleasure, the days becoming longer, the nights shorter, and midsummer drawing near. He went diligently to the pond, from the time of the summer solstice, and in the morning and evening hours hid himself in the reed hut. At last, one evening, he made the long-wished-for discovery.

THE SWAN'S PLUMAGE.

III. The Stealing Of The Swanks Plumage

Three swans came flying from the South with noisy flapping of their wings. Three times they circled round above the pond, as if to observe that all was safe ; then they plunged into the water, along, leaving deep silver ripples behind them in the clear tide at every stroke of their wings. They began to sport and play in the water like children, chasing each other round the pond in turn. When they had finished their games in the water, they swam to the shore, and disappeared in the high reeds.

The watchful and eager Friedbert soon saw re-appearing from among the reeds three beautiful young maidens, clad in costly robes, ornamented with gold and silver. As they stood there for a minute, with their arms entwined around one and swam merrily

THE SWAN’S PLUMAGE .

another, they formed the prettiest picture he had ever gazed upon.

They wandered over to the neighboring flower meadows. They sprang merrily here and there, with joyful shouts of pleasure, picked the prettiest flower blossoms, laid themselves down in the soft grass, and wove sweet-smelling garlands and wreaths.

Soft strains of music were wafted by the breezes to Friedbert in his concealment, and his spying eyes soon saw the fairy-like maidens, decked all over with garlands of fresh flowers, moving lightly to and fro in a merry dance.

Although lost in admiration at this beautiful sight, yet Friedbert plucked up his courage at the right minute, and hastily left his hiding place.

Unperceived, he slipped down through the bushes to the spot where the young maidens had laid their plumage. When he came in sight . of the feathered robes, his heart leaped for joy.

With an eager hand the bold robber seized the handsomest of the swan robes, and hastened with his booty to the hermitage, full of impatient expectations as to what Fate had laid out as his destiny. As soon as he had hidden his treasure in an iron chest, he sat down on a rustic bench, just outside of the hermitage grotto, to continue his observations.

The maidens at last tiring of dancing and

THE SWAN'S PLUMAGE.

play, went, hand in hand, across the meadows, toward the pond. When they had disappeared in the reeds, there arose a cry of horror ; and, immediately, two swans flew out from the reeds in a frightened manner, and, soaring high up in the air, flew rapidly away.

Friedbert soon heard a slight noise, as of a timid footstep in the sand ; its motions betrayed fear. When the cunning young hermit saw that he was being observed, he assumed a careless attitude, as if he saw and heard nothing. As he casually raised his eyes, there stood before him the charming, captured maiden, with an expression of deep distress upon her countenance. She opened her mouth with anxious, entreating gestures, and the young hermit heard a sweet, melodious voice, which was pleasant to his ears ; but not one word that the maiden uttered could he understand ; for the language in which she spoke was strange to him. He, however, easily guessed the purport of her words to be an earnest supplication for the restoration of the stolen swan-robe.

The roguish hermit purposely misunderstood her gestures, and only endeavored to make her understand that she had nothing to fear in that sacred hermitage. He set before her the finest fruit, and did everything in his power to assuage her grief.

THE SWAN’S PLUMAGE.

But the distressed maiden seemed to care for nothing. She sank down in a corner, and appeared utterly overcome with her affliction.

The sympathizing Friedbert took her grief so to heart that he could not restrain his own tears. The beautiful foreigner felt somewhat comforted by this apparent sympathy. She spoke freely to him of the stolen robe, and begged his pardon for her former suspicion of him. She tried very hard to find some means of making the cause of her grief intelligible to her host ; for Friedbert seemed to have no idea of what she was saying, or what was the cause of her sorrow.

The night passed in the hermitage very sadly ; but as the morning light ever brings comfort and relief to those in grief, so now the rosy finger of dawn dried the tears which the fair maiden had been shedding all through the night.

Friedbert did everything that he thought would best please his beautiful guest.

She partook but slightly of the tempting breakfast which he set before her ; then she went out to search again on the shore of the pond for the lost swan-robe ; for she thought, perchance, the wind might have blown it in among the shrubbery.

The obliging Friedbert accompanied her in the search, although he well knew that it was a useless trouble,

THE SWAN'S PLUMAGE.

The unsuccessful search, indeed, brought the tears afresh into the eyes of the fair one ; but her companion did his utmost to soothe her grief.

She became by degrees more resigned to her fate ; her sad eyes grew brighter, and she expressed delight in the companionship of the hermit, for whose kindness she was very grateful.

The sly young hermit noticed all this with great pleasure, and by every little attention exerted himself more and more to win for himself her good opinion.

Little by little they both learned, by signs and by speech, to understand each other well, so that they grew more and more companionable.

Friedbert learned from the maiden that she was of noble birth, being the youngest daughter of Prince Theodore, and the beautiful Helena of Naxos ; and that her name was Killiste. He begged her to allow him to call her Swanhilde, and she had no objection to offer ; indeed, she seemed to be rather pleased with the soft sound of the name.