Asgard and the Gods
The Tales and Traditions of Our Northern Ancestors
Fate
The old Greeks called the power which ruled over the deeds, the suffering, the life and struggles of man, Moira (Latin, Fatum), and were of opinion that the gods, if not actually dependent on it, were at least subordinate to it. Later, they held that there were three Fates - Future, Present and Past, and connected them with the birth, life and death of man. Their names and occupation are given in the well-known verse:
"Klotho begins, Lachesis spins,
Atropos cuts the thread in two."
To these was added Nemesis, the avenger of human insolence and of every evil deed. At length, when the old religion faded away, they began to worship Tyche, blind chance or fortune, erected altars to her, and offered sacrifices to her.
The Teutonic ideas were curiously similar to those of the people of the south. Orlog or Urlak, Fate, the eternal law of the universe, ruled over gods and men. The latter were powerless in its hands, therefore the hero bore his fate with resignation after he had striven his best to turn it aside; the gods foresaw what was to befal them, but even their divinity could not avert their doom.
Orlog was neither created nor begotten, and was impersonal; he was of special significance in war, and even to this day a German war-ship of the first magnitude is called an Orlog-ship. This being, which ruled in secret, gained recognition and personality in Allfather, the Creator, Sustainer, Upholder and Ruler of the world, who existed undefined in the consciousness of the people. He was the unknown god who was to call the new world into being after the Last Battle and the destruction of the universe. He was the highest conception of Odin. Lastly, Orlog reappears in the Regin, the Powers who ruled the world, and who, seated on their judgment thrones by the Fountain of Urd, determined the fate of men, and judged their actions. Whenever they showed themselves individually, they were Ases, but not such Ases as those who ate, drank, slept, and had adventures like mortal men; they were mightier and nobler than those, although they were likewise possessed of passions and affections similar to the others.
The Regin come most prominently into view in the Starkad legend, where they determine the fate of the mythical hero Starkad. This Wiking may with considerable resemblance be compared with the Grecian Herakles; just as Zeus and Hera decide the destiny of the latter, so do Odin and Freya of the other.
Starkad was of half-giant descent, and already when a child, like the Jotuns, of super-human stature, and furnished with eight arms. Under the training and by the magic of his master, Horsehair Beard (Hroszharsgrani), he not only gained great learning and heroic valour, but was also endowed with human form and manly beauty.
When he grew up to be a youth, his master took a boat and sailed away with him to an unknown island. A great crowd was on the beach, and round the council-tree sat eleven grave men of noble appearance upon thrones; a twelfth and higher throne remained unoccupied. Horse-hair Beard mounted it, and was greeted by all as Great Odin.
Then the speaker arose - it was Asathor - and said, "Alfhild, Starkad's mother, chose not Asathor as father for her child, but a giant; therefore I decree that he be childless, the last of his race."
"Yet I," said Odin, "grant him a life three times the length of mortal man."
"Then," answered Asathor, "I destine him to do in each age a grievous outrage that shall be a work of shame and dishonour in the eyes of man."
Odin replied again, "And I bestow on him the stoutest armour and most precious garments."
"I forbid him," said Asathor, "both house and home, nor shall a piece of land be ever his."
"And I allot him gold and flocks in fullest plenty," answered Odin.
"Then I doom him to ever-growing thirst for gold and wealth, that he may never enjoy peace of mind."
Odin returned, "I confer on him valour and prowess, and victory in battle."
"Yet shall he from each combat bear a wound that reaches to the very bone," was Thor's reply.
"The noble lore of the skalds shall be his," continued his protector, "that he may sing; and each of his words shall be a song."
"His memory shall be cursed with forgetfulness of all that he has sung."
"The noblest and the best among men shall love and honour him," spake Odin.
"But all his tribe shall shun and hate him," was Thor's last curse.
The assembled Regin entered into council, and decreed that all should come to pass as Odin and Asathor had willed.
Thus ended the judgment, and Horse-hair Beard descended from his high throne, and went to the boat with his foster-son.
Starkad grew to be one of the most famous of the mythical heroes, and his name was handed down and celebrated even in historical times throughout the northern countries.
Once when on a Wiking raid with King Wikar of Norway, the fleet was overtaken by a tempest, and he had to seek shelter in a protected creek. He had hoped for a rich booty, but the hurricane continuing for many days prevented his starting. Vain were all prayers and sacrifices. Odin demanded a human life.
Then it was resolved to cast the fatal runes, and the lot fell to the king himself. Nobody dared to pronounce the dire decree, still less to put it into execution; when, all on a sudden, a man in a broad-brimmed hat appeared in the night before Starkad. He saw at once that it was Horse-hair Beard; he gave Starkad a thin willow branch and a reed.
Starkad at once understood the will of the god, and the next day presented himself before the king to show him these harmless objects, telling him that the gods would be satisfied with the mere show of a sacrifice: the king was to suffer the slender branch to be laid around his neck; they were then to tie him to the thin bough of a tree, and touch him with the reed. Thus the sacrifice would be accomplished, and Odin would again send them a propitious wind.
Wikar accepted this proposal; but the thin bough of the tree sprang upwards, the willow branch was changed into a rope, and the reed which Starkad flung at the king was turned into a spear, which pierced the victim to the heart.
Such was one of the shameful outrages that Starkad the Wiking perpetrated, as Asathor had doomed he should, although the myth does not point out that it was done with the aid of Odin.
The hero, reckless of his evil deed, went on his further adventures, and performed marvellous and valorous feats in Sweden, Denmark, Ireland and Esthonia among the various nations.
During the winter months, when at the courts of other kings, he sang of his far-famed Wiking raids and combats, and princes and Jarls listened to his lays in silent admiration of the mighty champion, while the people dreaded and hated him for his devastations.
Yet he received also many wounds, and once even fought with a split head, his helmet alone keeping his head together. Moreover, when an old man of a hundred years, he slew nine warriors, although his bowels hung from his wounded side. In the memorable Battle of Brawalla he had his body cut open from the shoulder to the chest, so that his very liver was laid bare. All these wounds miraculously healed, for according to Odin's sentence he had to live three ages.
Thus the Ases appear as Regin, forecasting, the fate of man, which cannot fail to come to pass.
King Fridleif of Denmark was rich in treasures, which he had gathered together by bold deeds from the giants and the dragons that he had slain. Once when on his adventures he entered the cottage of a peasant, who received him hospitably. There he won the love of fair Juritha, the daughter of the honest cottager, and took her home with him. She bore him a son, who was called Olaf.
The ninth night after the birth of the child, Fridleif took him to the temple of the three sisters of Fate, to ask them about the future destiny of the boy. Before he entered the sacred grove, he read prayers to the godhead that the decree should be propitious, and made solemn pledges. Then he stepped into the temple, and saw three maidens upon thrones in the holy place, and they looked down upon him in silence as he approached.
The first goddess was grey with age, yet looked friendly and happy, even as the joyous days of past youth; the second raised her hand aloft, like a Walkyrie, who, looking towards the enemy on the field of battle, points out the way the heroes should advance; the third glanced darkly from under the veil which covered her temples.
"The noble youth shall be beautiful," said Urd of kindly heart, "and shall gain the love and service of men."
"I grant him untold valour in combat and generosity towards friends," continued Werdandi.
Thereto dark-frowning Skuld added, "Yet insatiable covetousness shall stain his soul."
We have frequently spoken of the Norns in preceding portions of the book. They are the Fatal Sisters who sit at the foot of the World-Ash Yggdrasil by the fountain of Urd. They can foresee the destiny of man, and make it known through the mouth of prophetesses and priests, or utter it themselves. At the same time they also make the fate of mortals to a certain extent, as is seen from the above story. They hover over armies as they are starting for the battle-field, and cast the deadly lots among the warriors. They follow the blood-stained track of the murderer, just as the Erinnyæ of the Greeks did, and fall upon him with their dire vengeance, no matter where or how he be hidden. They finally show upon the nails of man their runes, that is the white spots underneath the nail, which partly indicate good luck, partly misfortune; formerly people understood their meaning and could read them, but in our days this art has been lost, because with man's averted faith in the Fates, all fear and respect for them also disappeared, so that they now manifest themselves in all sorts of more horrible ways.
The name Norn has quite disappeared from Germany, if indeed it was ever known there. The Anglo-Saxons called the Fatal Sisters Mettena, i.e., the measurers, those who weighed in the balance. In the oldest conception of them, the sisters were held to be one, and were known as Wurd or Urd, in Anglo-Saxon Wyrd. But at the same time they were also known as a trinity.
In heathen times the three sisters were worshipped in a sacred grove. They were regarded as protectresses of the place, and in Christian times as saints who had erected chapels and shrines, but who nevertheless perished in the ruins of their' castle. Another idea was that the three prophetesses lived on a hill surrounded by water. They span and wove linen, which they afterwards gave away to the people. They sang at christenings and marriages, which betokened good luck, and for this reason three ears of corn were offered up to them at the harvest. Thus the fear of the terrible Norns, who pursued the vile-doer and spun the irremediable thread of man's destiny, awarding life and death according to their pleasure, became softened in course of time; while, on the contrary, the idea of Hel, the goddess of the underworld, grew ever more and more appalling.
We have already made the acquaintance of the goddess Hel as a monster horrible to look upon, and the daughter of Loki; but the original conception of her was far different from this. Death was not terrible in the oldest time. Mother Earth, who bore the living, and took the dead back to her bosom, appeared in no gruesome form to the ancients.
The patriarchs of Israel, after a long life of struggle, blessed their sons and made their will known to them, and then laid their heads down peacefully and quietly to take their eternal rest. Similar ideas may have prevailed amongst the Aryan races in their native land. The shepherd princes who watched their flocks and herds looked upon life and death calmly, and worshipped Mother Earth as the author of birth and dissolution, without fearing her.
But when the people began to distinguish spiritual life from the merely corporeal, Hel became the Ruler and judge of souls. Meanwhile these conceptions of life after death were rather unsatisfactory in some respects. Homer made the spirits of the dead glide about like unconscious shadows moved by every breath of wind; in the poems of Ossian they whispered to the living in the waving of the reeds, the murmuring of the billows, and in the coming and going of the clouds, in which they appear to have had their dwelling.
Homer tells us of the punishment borne by those spirits who were condemned to Tartaros, and in the time of Tacitus the Teutons appear to have already had ideas respecting reward and punishment after death. They knew of Walhalla, where the storm and war-god, Wodan, received the souls of fallen heroes, But Hel was still the Earth-mother who dwelt in the depths, who made the plants grow and rise in the light of day; or she was Nerthus, who, under the guidance of the priests, went out to greet the people and wander through their land. The Edda only contains scattered allusions to the great goddess of former days, who decked the earth with flowers and fruits, who gave life and energy to man and beast, and who called her children back to her bosom. Odin is there said to have given her power over the nine worlds, or, according to another version, over the ninth world; but certainly the great goddess of life and death may be described as having dominion over the nine worlds. She was represented as half corpse-like, half of an ordinary colour, which showed her power over life and death. The Brahmins described their goddess of nature after much the same fashion.
Holda was the bright side of the goddess of nature. In contradistinction to her, the dark, black side of Hel came ever more strongly prominent, the greater the horrors of death and the grave appeared. The Edda teaches us that it took nine nights' ride through dark valleys to reach the river Giöl, which was spanned by a gold-covered bridge, on the other side of which was the high iron fence surrounding the dwelling of the goddess of the Under-world. No living creature, were he even a god, could bear to look upon that terrible face.
Her hall was called Misery, her dish Hunger, her knife Greed; Idleness was the name of her man, Sloth of her maid, Ruin of her threshold, Sorrow of her bed, and Conflagration of her curtains. Within her realm, Corpse-strand, a hall was set apart for assassins and perjurers; it was far from the sun and turned towards the north, and was roofed with serpents, whose heads hung down and spat their venom upon the floor, causing unspeakable torment to the wicked who were confined there. Still more horrible than this was Hwergelmir, the roaring cauldron, where the dragon Nidhögg devoured the corpses of the evil-doers. In front of Hel's dwelling was the Gnypa cavern. The monstrous dog Garm lived there, from whose jaws the blood constantly dripped as he gnashed his teeth and growled at the new arrivals of the pilgrims of earth.
These and other terrible pictures show the Northern Hel as described in the later poems, but they were scarcely founded on the conceptions of the old Teutons regarding her. Still there are other places which prove that Hel also had a more kindly aspect, and that she received with a joyous welcome the good and worthy who might come to her.
When glorious Baldur was sent to her by insidious Loki's perfidy, he found the halls gorgeously decorated, the thrones all covered with spangles of gold, and goblets filled to the brim with sweet mead. For the goddess had also halls of joy for the good and brave who were not received in Walhalla.
In the Whispering Valley (Wisperthal), where lisping elf-maidens invite the wanderer to deceptive joys, there lies on a low cone-shaped hill the ruins of an ancient castle. In the underground caverns beneath, a black-and-white spirit-maiden is said to guard her hidden treasures. They say that many years ago she betrayed the treasures of the abbey to the enemy for gold, for which crime she was excommunicated by the Church at Rome; her spirit will not find rest, it is said, until the enemy has been conquered and the stolen treasures restored. Formerly she was often seen by the light of the full moon, weeping and bewailing as she wandered among the ruins; but of late years the spectre has not appeared. Perhaps the unknown enemy has been conquered, thus obtaining for her respite from her troubles.
The appearance of this black-and-white maiden reminds us of the wicked goddess Hel, and she may also be compared with Hilde, the Walkyrie who ever awakened up again the slain warriors in the strife between Hogni and Hedin, that the fight might be continued.
THE WALKYRIES
At Hledra, the proudest town in all the northern lands, sat King Hrolf Kraki one yule-tide with his twelve warriors, and together they emptied the goblets of sparkling wine. They vowed eternal companionship, that they would ever stand side by side in the fight, and if need be die together.
When summer came, they went out to battles and to wars, and many a Jarl and many a king was made tributary to them.
"Odin is with us," said Bodwar Biarki, one of the twelve.
"The Walkyries have protected us," said Hialti, another warrior.
"May they always grant us victory," added a third, "and guide us all in safety to Walhalla."
As they were thus speaking, Wogg, a young lad, came up to them, and asked to be allowed to take service under the king. Kraki gave him a golden ring.
As the boy fastened it on his left arm he said, "Now must my right arm be ashamed, lacking ornament."
Therefore the king, smiling, gave him a second ring.
Whereupon Wogg, laying his hand on Freyer's wild boar, vowed that he would be the King's avenger, if he were ever slain by the enemy.
King Hrolf Kraki once took his warriors to Upsala, where his father Helgi had been slain, to demand of the avaricious Adil, the spouse of Yrsa, his father's ring.
After a day's journey, he came to the peasant Hrany, who greeted him kindly, and advised him to send some of his people back as they would only be in the way during the fight.
The peasant wore a large hat, which completely shaded his face; he had only one eye, but he spoke so wisely, that his advice was followed. The next evening they came to the same house, in front of which stood the same peasant.
Again they received the same advice, and King Hrolf now saw clearly that this was a man versed in magic lore, and he dismissed all the servants of his warriors.
The peasant looked pensively after the departing king; then he beckoned with his right hand, as though he were calling a servant, and through the clouds and evening mists appeared seven maidens, mounted on white steeds, armed with shields and clad in chainmail. They stopped before him.
"Hrist (storm) and Mist (cloud-grey), Thrud (power) and Goll (herald), Gondul (she-wolf) and Skogul (carrier through), and thou, bold Hilde (war), use your art with King Hrolf, that he may be victorious."
Thus spoke the peasant, and the Walkyries hastened away to carry out his behest.
Then followed, through the treachery of the false Adil, fierce frays, in all of which the heroes conquered, and they returned in triumph to their home. They again sought lodging with Hrany, and they found him more hospitable than before. He showed Hrolf a shield, a sword, and a shirt of mail, saying, -
"Take the weapons, thou wilt have need of them."
But Hrolf refused to take such costly gifts from a peasant, whereupon Hrany waxed wroth, his face grew dark as night, and his eyes flashed fire.
"Then quit my house, rash sons of the Jotuns," he cried; "the Norn has beclouded your minds, she throws the thread northwards."
The ground shook; the very house groaned and cracked, as though the building would fall. The heroes, terrified, mounted their stallions, and rode away. At last Biarki broke the silence.
"I think," he said, "that we have been foolish. The peasant is more than he seems."
"It is Odin himself, the one-eyed god," answered Hrolf; "let us return and seek him."
But it was in vain, for both Hrany and his house had disappeared.
For some time the king remained quietly at Hledra with his warriors; for he was afraid that the Father of Victory was displeased with him. The tributary princes and Jarls paid their taxes, without daring to raise the banner against their victorious lord.
At last, however, Skuld, Hrolf's sister, begged her husband, Hiorward, to take up arms against the king. She used cunning magic and baneful witchery in order to attain her end. Under the pretext of paying the tribute, they both arrived in the castle with many followers, leaving many mounted men concealed outside.
The king received them with great honour, and gave a festive drinking-bout. But when he and his followers, overcome by sleep and wine, lay resting in the halls, the troop of traitors silently crept in and slaughtered many a sleeping hero. Hialti, who was outside, came back, just as the fighting had begun. He wakened Badwar Biarki. Both took their arms, and killing everybody who came in their way, they reached the king's sleeping hall, where the king armed himself amid his warriors.
Then Hrolf said, "Well, valiant comrades, drink with me the last cup to Odin, as we are going the way of Death."
They all drank with great zeal, and Biarki said: "Do you see the Walkyries above us, how they smile under their helmets and beckon to us? We come to you, powerful maidens; soon you will bear us to Walhalla, where Freya herself brings to the heroes foaming mead. But as long as life is granted to us, let us do our duty faithfully, that we may die an honourable death and show ourselves worthy of renown and skaldic song."
Thus spoke the undaunted hero, and the warriors following closely on the king, pressed forward against the foe, and their swords clashed as if a whole army was fighting. The conspirators fell under their blows and retreated from the halls and castle, and the men of Hledra followed their brave lord as though to victory.
In the meanwhile Hiorward brought fresh troops, and the pernicious Skuld stood in the midst of the battle, and by her magic songs she revived the fallen warriors.
The heroes fell one after the other around their warlike king, who towered in their midst. Shots whizzed round him, swordblows clashed on helmet and shield; but the traitors fell before his mighty strokes. Only when his armour was utterly destroyed did he fall pierced with lances on the bloody ground, profusely strewed with armour and with broken weapons. Hialti lay dying at his feet. Biarki stood still, but his colour was pale, his helmet and shield broken, his breast-plate and heart pierced by a lance.
The colour from his cheek is fled,
He speaks with quaking breath;
All power has left my weary limb,
That burns the wound of death.
Hialti lies upon the ground
Beside the dying king;
The Hero-King grants me to kiss
His lips ere life takes wing.
At his head will I gladly sink,
Without fear, without dismay;
Walkyries above me beckoning
Bless'd shield-maidens gray.
They call, inviting us above,
The heroes they bid speed
To Odin's glorious halls,
Where they deal out ale and mead.
Hiorward, the victor, and Skuld sat together in the festive hall at the drinking bout, laughing over their wicked cunning.
Then the enchantress said, "My brother has died with all his heroes as a Skioldung, a descendant of the noblest race of kings on the whole earth."
"Then is none of his brave men left?" asked the king. "I would honour him highly, and seat him as the first under my warriors."
Just as he had thus spoken a man covered with blood came up to him without weapons, but on each arm a golden ring. All knew him well, for he was Wogg, the same whom Hrolf had once received into his company. He said he would like to serve his new master faithfully; but he had no sword, as he had broken his in the fight. Then Hiorward handed him his own great sword; but Wogg said that Hrolf always held the sword at the point when he gave it to a man. This the king did also; but as soon as Wogg had the handle in his hand he dug the point deep into the king's breast with the words
"Go thou to the kingdom of Hel, false traitor, where thou shalt walk through valleys of misery."
Then he received innumerable mortal wounds by Hiorward's warriors. With a dying struggle he dragged himself towards the yet living Hrolf, and said:
"Now have I fulfilled my promise, and have avenged my master. But I see them - the Walkyries. They have lifted the heroes on their horses; they wait for me. I follow ye; I come from blood and the pains of earth to share the joys of Asgard's glorious hall!"
The prophetesses who foretold victory to the people, or who even took part in the battle, holding up the banner in their strong hands, were either distinguished by their great and healthy old age or by their youth and beauty. When the warriors saw them standing amongst the chiefs and nobles filled with the enthusiastic certainty of victory, issuing their commands and uttering words of counsel which tended to ensure the victory they had prophesied, they may well have regarded them as supernatural beings worthy of all honour. It was the same with the Scandinavians. Many a warrior-maiden fought in the famous Brawalla battle; but yet these Amazons were, on that occasion, unable to change the fate of the day.
The existence of these Walas, or Amazons, formed the foundation of the belief in Walkyries, and poetic fancy imagined them to be heavenly beings, who gave victory to him that deserved it, and who took those mortals who had fallen bravely in the fight to Walhalla, that they might be with the Father of Battles and the blessed Einheriar. We have already met with them several times in the course of our history, riding on white horses and dressed in splendid armour, watching the fate of battles and of the heroes who took part in them. There were generally seven, nine, or even twelve choosers of the dead on such occasions, and Hilde (War) and the youngest Norn Skuld, were often comprised in their ranks. They rode on air and water, for their horses were the clouds that floated over the world of mortal men. They were possessed of swan garments, wrapped in which they could fly in the guise of swans to the place where heroes were contending for death or victory.
The celebrated Brynhilde was a Walkyrie. She said on her Hel ride that Agnar had stolen the swan garments belonging to her and her sisters, and had thus forced her to give him the victory over Hialmgunnar against the will of Odin, for which reason the god had cast her into a magic sleep. Swawa and Sigrun, like Brynhilde, were of human extraction, and they used to hover protectingly round their favourite heroes during the fight; but they lost their Walkyrie power as soon as they married them. Maidens alone could receive the divine nature, which they lost again if ever they married a mortal hero.
The Walkyries, Norns, and divine women reappear under the name of Discs. This appellation connects them with the war and sword-god Tius (Tyr, Zio). They were not his servants, however, but were quite independent of him. Idises, or Discs, were known and reverenced by the Teutons before the time of Tacitus. It seems that inspired prophetesses and seers like Weleda were looked upon as Idises. We have already shown what influence they possessed in time of war; but they used also to go about the land, enter houses, and bring help in sickness, for they knew of remedies which were of much avail to whomsover believed in their efficacy.
It is said in Latin accounts that one of these women went to meet Drusus when he had advanced as far as the Elbe. She wore the Teutonic costume, was of superhuman height, and commanded the conqueror to withdraw from the sacred soil of the fatherland, for death was approaching him. He was so terrified that he was induced to retreat, and it is well known that he soon afterwards died of a fall from his horse. This tale probably had its rise in Teutonic tradition, but it shows what faith the ancients placed in the greatness and power of these prophetesses, who were also called Wise-Women. It was beautiful to see how these seers kept the desire for the weal of their people in their hearts, incited them to warlike deeds, carried their banner into the fray, bore the wounded out of the fight, bound up their hurts, and nursed them or brought help and healing to the sick. Very different was the reverse side of this picture, when they accompanied wandering hordes in their raids. Wild-looking figures with loosened hair, they there mixed with the fighting men, joined in the fierce battlecry, and after victory had been attained they stood by the sacrificial altar, slew the prisoners, and foretold future events by their witch-like incantations over the bodies of their victims.
Old authors tell us of other women whom the people held to be Idises. One of these appeared to Attila by the Lech, and made him afraid to cross the river. Some writers are of opinion that they were called Alioruna, and prove their assertion by comparison with Jornandes, who maintained that the mis-shapen Huns were descended from the Aliorumnes. These beings were afterwards called Alrunes or Alrauns.
It was said that the Alraun was cut out of a root with a distant resemblance to the human form. For a long time the well-known climbing plant, bryony, was regarded in Germany as an Alraun. But when the Germans invaded Italy in the tenth and eleventh centuries, they found the mandrake which resembled what they imagined much more nearly than the bryony.
According to tradition this plant only grew under the gallows upon which some one had been hung. A wise woman dug there at midnight while using horrible incantations. The moment to enter on the search was at the time of the solstice, when the moon in its last quarter was throwing its pale light around. The root was disinterred with a low cry of pain. The woman, a look of madness on her face, hastened away with her prize, which writhed like a living thing in her arms. She took it home and laid it on her soft bed. There the misshapen creature lay before her, pale as death, without eyes, and on its thick skull a few bristly hairs were visible. She felt bound to it with an overflowing love like a mother to her child. She pressed two juniper berries into the holes where its eyes should have been, and a third one into the back of its head. These berries became real eyes, but were round, not oval, like human eyes.
The earth-born creature grew rapidly under her care, but only reached the height of a three-years child. He climbed roofs and trees like a monkey, and laughed at his foster-mother's anxiety for him. He found and dug for her treasures of silver and gold that had lain hidden under the earth.
Thus the family grew rich and respected, but the woman was not happy. Her father, trusting in his riches, strove to gain princely power and was executed for high treason; her lover and her brother killed each other for the sake of her wealth. The Alraun laughed at her tears; he had a diabolical delight in plaguing her until at last she died insane under the same gallows from beneath which she had dug him up.
This story reminds us of Wodan, the hanging god, and of the degrading influence of wealth on the human mind. It also leads our thoughts on to the witches, who originally had no resemblance to the barbarous women we mentioned before.