BAD SPIRITS
A short extract from a discussion on Spirits, written about three hundred years ago by an English inquirer into their nature and propensities, may find a place here. This description occurs in a work by Thomas Nash, Gentleman, entitled 'Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Deuill; Describing the ouer-spreading of Vice, and the suppression of Vertue; Pleasantly interlac'd with variable delights; and pathetically intermixt with conceipted reproofes. London, 1592.' It does not clearly appear whether the author's remarks are intended to refer especially to the Spirits of England; but this probably is the case. True, he describes them as more ill-tempered than those on the Continent are generally said to be; but this may perhaps be merely owing to the gloominess of the English climate. Howbeit, these troublesome Spirits are most likely not so bad as we find them here depicted; for, is it not a well-known fact, also mentioned by Thomas Nash, Gentleman, that they love music?
"The spirits of the earth keepe, for the most part, in forrests and woods, and doo hunters much noyance; and sometime in the broad fields, where they lead trauelers out of the right way, or fright men with deformed apparitions, or make run mad through excessiue melancholy, like Aiax Telamonious, and so proue hurtful to themselves, and dangerous to others: of this number the chiefe are Samaab and Achymael, spirits of the east, that haue no power to doo great harm, by reason of the vnconstancie of their affections. The vnder-earth spirits are such as lurk in dens and little cauernes of the earth, and hollow crevices of mountaines, that they may dyue into the bowels of the earth at their pleasures: these dig metals and watch treasures, which they continually transport from place to place that non should haue vse of them: they raise windes that vomit flames, and shake the foundation of buildins; they daunce in rounds in pleasant lawnds, and greene medowes, with noises of musick and minstralsy, and vanish away when any comes nere them: they will take vpon them any similitude but that of a woman, and terrefie men in the likeness of dead mens ghosts in the night time."
THE MUSICIAN AND THE DWARFS
The following adventure was first related by a jolly young German, who said he was acquainted with a friend of the very person to whom it occurred.
Once upon a time, a poor musician who lived in the neighbourhood of Hildesheim, an old town in the former kingdom of Hanover, went home late at night from a lonely mill, where he had been playing dance-tunes at a christening festivity. The mill is still extant. Its name is Die Mordmühle (The Murder Mill), probably because something dreadful may have happened there years ago. His way led him past a cliff in which there was a dwarf's hole. When he cast a glance at the hole, he saw, to his amazement, sitting before it a dwarf, not more than three feet high. Scarcely had he recovered from his first fright, when suddenly he felt himself seized by invisible hands and drawn under ground many miles deep into the mountain. All this occurred in a moment's time. Immediately the poor musician found that he had been transported into a beautiful hall, illuminated with many thousand lights of various brilliant colours. The flooring of the hall was of pure silver, and the walls were all of the purest gold: the chandeliers were of emeralds and diamonds.
Presently the dwarfs desired the musician to play his best tunes. While playing, he heard quite unmistakably the little folks dancing to his music; he also heard them coughing, giggling, and laughing; but he did not see any being except the dwarf who had taken him there. After a little while the same dwarf brought in a bottle of exquisitely fine wine, and placed it before the musician. When the poor fiddler had helped himself repeatedly from the bottle, he began to feel more at his ease, and became a little talkative.
"Well, my good master," he said, "I am playing and playing here one tune after another, and hear all kinds of noises; but I see no Christian soul but yourself: could I not have just a look at the gentlefolks whom I have the honour of serving with my music?"
To this sensible request the dwarf replied: "By all means! There is no danger in that. Just take my hat and put it on thy head."
As soon as the musician had placed the dwarf's large round hat on his head, he saw the hall crowded with thousands of little pigmy ladies and gentlemen, very smartly dressed, who were promenading up and down, bowing and curtseying to each other; and with them were some little children, certainly not bigger than a thumb. After having played a country-dance to conclude the ball, the musician was dismissed, but not before the dwarf who had brought him there had filled his pockets with wood shavings, of which a large heap lay stored up just near the entrance of the hall.
"Of what use is that stuff to me!" thought the musician; and the first thing he did, when he found himself again free in the open air, was to empty his pockets and throw all the shavings into the road. Heartily tired he reached his home. On the following morning he put his hand into his coat pocket to ascertain if perchance any of the shavings remained; when, Lo! what should he draw out, but a piece of the purest gold! Directly he set off again to the road where he had disencumbered himself of the shavings the night before. But he could find nothing; all traces of the treasure had disappeared.67
THE LITTLE FOLKS
A young girl who was in service at a farm-house in the province of Schleswig in Germany, had to work daily so very hard that she became at last quite dissatisfied with her lot.
One morning when her master sent her into the field after the cows, she had to pass a hill in which people had often heard the subterranean little folks singing and dancing. The girl thought to herself how enviably happy those dear dwarfs in the hill must be, who work but leisurely and sing so cheerfully. "Alas!" she exclaimed, "could I but live with them, how gladly would I bid farewell to my present home!"
Her words were heard by one of the dwarfs, a young lad who had just been seriously contemplating how very advisable it would be for him to look out for a wife. So, when the girl returned from the field, he presented himself to her, and soon persuaded her to marry him. They are said to have lived very happily together in the hill for many years. They had also about half-a-dozen children; funnily-small dear little creatures these must have been, to be sure.
The dwarfs in that district possessed in former times a peculiar kind of cradle song, of which some fragments have been caught by the listening peasants, and are still preserved.
The music which the dwarfs produce is, as might be expected, remarkably soft and soothing. Loud and noisy music is not at all to the taste of the little folks. A peasant who one day had been to town to purchase rice, raisins, and other luxuries for the wedding festival of his daughter, which was to take place on the following morning, fell in with one of the dwarfs near an old grave-yard situated close to the road. In the course of conversation which they had together, the dwarf expressed a wish that he might be permitted to witness the festivity, and promised to bring with him for a wedding present a lump of gold as large as a man's head.
The delighted peasant said he should be most happy to welcome the generous guest; indeed, he should consider it quite an honour.
"A propos!" remarked the dwarf, just as they shook hands at parting, "What kind of music do you have to-morrow?"
Whereupon the rejoicing peasant rather boastingly replied: "First-rate music! We shall have trumpets and kettle-drums!"
Then the dwarf begged to be excused attending; for (he said) trumpets and kettle-drums he could not endure.68
MACRUIMEAN'S BAGPIPE
There is in Scotland a family of hereditary bagpipers whose name is Macruimean (or M'Crimmon). Now, it is well known how it came to pass that the famous bagpiper, Macruimean, got his fine music. He was ploughing one day near a haunted hill, when one of the "Little Folks," a tiny green man, came up and invited him into the mountain. After they had entered a cave, the tiny green man gave Macruimean an exquisitely fine bagpipe, and told him that so long as any part of the instrument remained, either with him or with his offspring they would continue to be the best bagpipers in Scotland. When the lucky Macruimean had arrived with his bagpipe at his house, he found to his surprise that he could play upon it beautifully any tune which occurred to his mind. Indeed, his performance was so powerful and impressive that it astonished every one; and the people in the Highlands have still the saying, Co ard ri Piob mhoir Mic-Chruimean, – ("As loud as Macruimean's pipes.")
There is also still in the Highlands a cave called Uamh na'm Piobairean—i. e., "The Piper's Cave," into which the famous Macruimean with his children used to repair to practise the bagpipe. This cave is on the top of a brae, or rising ground, eight miles north from Dunvegan Castle. Even his daughters, people say, would occasionally steal to the cave, if they could lay hold on their father's favourite set of pipes, and indulge in a vigorous practice for an hour or so. Moreover, at what time the Macruimean family was first established as the hereditary bagpipers of the Lairds of MacLeod, no one can say now; for it was so very long ago.69
THE GYGUR FAMILY
As regards giants, there are now-a-days only very few remaining in European countries. Formerly, it would appear, they were abundant, and many traces of their habitations and doings are still pointed out by the people. However, respecting the capacity of the giants for music, but little is recorded. Jacob Grimm alludes to the charming musical powers of Gygur, a Scandinavian giantess and sorceress, and he thinks it likely that an old German name for the violin, which is Geige, was derived from Gygur.70 If this be so, the French Gigue and the English Jig may be supposed likewise to have their origin from the name of that mysterious monster. There was evidently in olden time a whole Gygur family; but it is very doubtful whether any of its members are still extant. If there are yet any to be found, it must be up in the North, perhaps in Norway, Sweden, or Iceland; at any rate, the people in these countries still speak occasionally of their old giants, or trolls as they are also called.
LINUS, THE KING'S SON
This story is current in Iceland. It was told to a German traveller in that out-of-the-way part of the world by a poor joiner, – evidently a true-born Icelander, well versed in the folk-lore of his country, but a somewhat prosy narrator. The story is here given in a condensed form. True, there is not much said in it about music; but its chief incidents are brought about by the agency of magic songs. The singing of the swans lulls the king's son into a death-like slumber, and it is by means of music that the sweet foster-sister of Linus, when she finds him reposing on the couch, – but all this the reader will see in the story itself, and to tell it first in a preamble, and then a second time, would be even worse than the prolixity of the honest Icelandic joiner. So let us proceed to the story.
There was once a king and a queen who had a son whose name was Linus. Every one in the whole kingdom admired the young prince for his fine person and his many accomplishments.
Now it happened that when Linus, the king's son, had attained the age of twenty years, he suddenly disappeared, and no one could say what had become of him.
Not far from the king's palace lived with her parents in a little hut a young girl who was the prince's foster-sister; and he had always been extremely fond of her. No wonder that he liked her so much, for she was as beautiful as she was amiable.
"Mother," said the girl, "pray, now let me go, that I may seek for him until I find him again!"
When the mother heard her speaking thus, she became convinced that all dissuasion would be useless, and she permitted her daughter to go. However, she gave her a magic ball of thread, and taught her how to throw it before her as a guide to the hidden abode of the king's son; for the old lady was not altogether inexperienced in the mysteries of sorcery. The girl took the ball of thread and let it run before her; and it rolled and rolled many miles over mountains and through valleys, until it suddenly stopped near a precipitous cliff.
"Here he must be!" ejaculated the girl, and anxiously looked about whether there was not somewhere an entrance into the cliff. But all she could find, after a careful search was a narrow crevice, somewhat hidden by a projecting rock, scarcely wide enough for her to squeeze herself through. When she had succeeded in entering the cliff, she found herself in a large cavern, the walls of which were smoothly planed, and suspended on them were all kinds of odd implements. Surveying the cavern with a curiosity not unmixed with fear, she discovered on one side a short passage leading into another cavern not quite so large as the first, but handsomer in appearance. Having entered the second cavern, she observed a splendid bed standing in the middle of the room. Trembling with hope and fear, she drew nearer to the bed, and lo! there she found him lying asleep, the beloved Linus, the king's son!
Her first thought was to awaken him as quickly as possible, that he might fly with her out of the mountain. But all her exertions to arouse him had no effect, although she tried various means which ought, it might be supposed, certainly to have awakened him. While considering what she should do, she was suddenly terrified by a rumbling sound like that of distant thunder, which gradually became louder and louder, until it appeared to be quite near the entrance to the cavern. She had just time to hide herself behind some furniture in the corner, when the cliff opened widely, and in came a giantess, seated on a chariot of ivory, inlaid with gold, and having a golden whip in her hand.
As soon as the giantess, who was also a great sorceress, had entered the cavern, the opening in the cliff closed again. Presently she went to the bed on which the king's son was reposing, and summoning two swans from the end of the cavern, she recited the spell: —
"Sing, sing ye my swans,
To awake Linus, the king's son!"
Immediately the swans began to sing a song, charming beyond all description; and as they sang the youth awoke. Then the horrid giantess sat down by the side of the king's son, and told him how very fond she was of him; and that she should never be happy until he was her husband. But, Linus, the king's son, smiled without answering her; and, turning his head aside, he thought of his foster-sister in the little hut not far from his father's palace. How little did he suspect that the dear girl was near to him, hidden in the cavern!
However, the giantess perceiving that she was talking in vain, at last determined to await a more propitious time. So she again called her swans, and recited the spell: —
"Sing, sing ye my swans,
To charm the king's son to sleep!"
Immediately the swans sang a song inexpressibly soothing, and the king's son fell asleep again. Thinking the youth safely secured, the giantess took up her golden whip, and seating herself in the chariot of ivory, inlaid with gold, she recited the spell: —
"Run, run my precious chariot,
And carry me to the Lifsteinn!"
As soon as she had said these words the cliff opened, and the chariot flew off like a flash of lightning. Now, when the watchful girl heard the thundering sound gradually diminishing into a feeble murmur, she knew that she might venture out of her hiding-place. The first thing she did was to command the swans: —
"Sing, sing ye my swans,
To awake Linus, the king's son!"
Immediately the swans began to sing most charmingly, and the beloved Linus awoke. Oh! how unspeakably happy he was when he beheld his dear foster-sister standing before him! For a time the cavern was to them a paradise; – but soon the anxious question arose how to escape from the clutches of the giantess.
Then the quick-witted girl suggested a plan which Linus hopefully adopted; and having summoned the swans to lull the youth to sleep again, she withdrew into her hiding-place; for the increasing rumbling of the chariot warned her of the approaching danger.
The giantess had not long returned to the cavern when she determined on making another attempt to gain the affection of the king's son. So she commanded the swans to sing him awake. The prince arose, appeared much more compliant than before, and expressed his willingness to marry her on the following day, if it were not otherwise destined.
Then the enamoured giantess, in answer to his inquiries, revealed to him various secrets as to her magic powers; and when he asked her to tell him candidly whither she went so often in her chariot, she replied: —
"Ah, my dear boy, there is no cause for jealousy! The fact is, I have a brother who is a great giant, and we both, my brother and I, have but one life, and that is bound up in a Lifsteinn ('Stone of Life'). Now, you must know, the Lifsteinn is very brittle, and if it should be broken our death would be certain. Daily I visit my brother, who lives far off in a valley near a deep spring under three high trees. We then fetch up our Lifsteinn, which lies in the deep spring, and carefully examine it; for, nothing affords us greater satisfaction than to find our Lifsteinn uninjured."
This valuable information was listened to with breathless attention by the young girl in her hiding-place; and when the giantess, having previously ordered the swans to sing the king's son to sleep, had taken her departure in the chariot, the girl lost no time in hastening from the cavern; and, rolling the ball of thread before her, she followed it over mountains and through valleys until she had reached the deep spring under the three high trees. The great giant, whose mere breathing made all the leaves of the trees tremble, was just placing the Lifsteinn in the lap of the giantess, – when the courageous girl sprang out from behind the trees, and snatching it up threw it on the ground and shattered it to fragments. In a moment both the giant and the giantess fell down dead.
Now the girl ascended the ivory-golden chariot, took up the golden whip, and smacking it, recited the spell —
"Run, run my precious chariot,
And take me to Linus the king's son!"
When the chariot had entered the cavern, she at once commanded the swans to awaken the king's son; and this they did in strains of music so melodiously beautiful that no mortal had ever heard the like. Linus and his dear foster-sister, having provided themselves with as many jewels and as much gold and silver from the cavern as they could carry, took their seats in the chariot and commanded it to take them straight to the king's palace. Oh! how they all rejoiced throughout the whole kingdom! There was no end of festivities!
But the most glorious festival was that when they celebrated the marriage of Linus, the king's son, with his sweet foster-sister. On that day the old king, in his happiness, resigned the crown in favour of his dear son. Of course, king Linus and his beloved queen were quite happy then and ever after.71
NECKS
The Necks, or water-spirits, are renowned for their love and talent for music. There exist, people say, various kinds of these interesting creatures. The Swedes relate wonderful stories respecting the marvellous harp-playing of a Neck called Strömkarl, who generally prefers the vicinity of water-mills and cascades for his abode. In olden times, before the introduction of Christianity into Sweden, the people used to sacrifice a black lamb to the Strömkarl, who, in return, taught them his charming music. Also the Norwegians sacrificed formerly to a similar Neck, called Fossegrim. He taught his enchanting harp-playing to anyone who on a Thursday evening would throw a young white ram into a river flowing northwards, meanwhile averting his face.72
The Neck, or Nicker, has become quite a stranger in England. Some Englishmen, however, take care to preserve his name, applying it to a spirit of another element than water, and everyone knows at once whom they mean when they speak of "Old Nick."
It is said that there are still to be found in Sweden minstrels who have learnt their music from the Necks. A certain farm in Smaland, called Neckaryd, has, according to popular tradition, derived its name from having been inhabited in olden time by a family of minstrels whose name was Neckar, and who learnt their music from a Neck. The last survivors of this remarkable family are still remembered by the people. They were four brothers who used to play at weddings and on other festive occasions. Their grandfather is said to have first played the following Necken-Polska, which is still a favourite national dance in Sweden.
In some districts of Sweden this tune is played with C-natural, instead of C-sharp, in the first bar. The former is the older form, and may therefore be regarded as exhibiting more accurately the tune as originally derived from the Neck, than the present notation with C-sharp, which is, however, now almost universally adopted. Another tune, which is likewise said to have been caught from hearing it played by a Neck, and which is certainly a very old favourite of the people, is as follows: —
This tune exhibits less the characteristics of the old Swedish dance-tunes than the former, which, like most of them, is in the Minor Key.