This lordly cliff and the Westerberg were once connected, it is said,
by a granite wall, which was rent asunder by flood and storm from the
Brocken; and according to one legend, Princess Ilse issues from the
rock at dawn, when the weather is mild, robed in white satin, her
long golden hair floating around her like a veil, a diadem of
mountain crystal adorning her regal brow, lays aside her costly
array, bathes in the crystal stream, and combs her golden hair.
Whoever is so happy as to meet her at the right moment, she calls
with friendly voice, takes him by the hand and leads him before the
Ilsenstein, which at her command opens, when she conducts him to her
palace in the heart of the mighty rock.
There the most unheard-of splendour rivets his astonished gaze; the
floors, walls, and ceilings glitter with gold, silver, and precious
stones; the lofty arches are supported by columns of mountain
crystal; while carbuncles illuminate the vast chambers with a soft
light.
In the most magnificent of these chambers will the happy mortal find
the most delightful entertainment; and when a youth, pure, and free
from all guilt, bathes in the Ilse at the same time as the Princess,
she will be free from the enchantment.
Whoever approaches her with impure heart, she sprinkles with water,
and instantly he turns into a fir tree.
"_Es stehen der Tannen gar viele
In ihres Bades Näh,
Es hat sie alle verzaubert
Die keusche Wasserfee!_"
"And many a fir tree's deepest shade
Falls o'er the crystal stream;
Enchanted by the pure mermaid,
Their fate to moan they seem."
A Dream under Princes Ilse's Firs.
It was during the heat of August, when my friend Josephine and I sat
long chatting on a moss-grown stone under Princess Ilse's dark
evergreens.
Finally she went to gather some ferns and wild-flowers, and I fell
asleep.
Then I heard a deep voice above me say, "I am Castiglione the
magician. I approached the Princess Ilse with the guilt of falsehood
on my soul, and she transformed me into the fir against which you are
leaning. If she would only break the enchantment, and set me free, I
would lead an honest, truthful life. Plead with her to release me."
"How can I do that?" I asked. "I never expect to see the Princess."
"Oh yes, you will. You will see her to-day."
Another voice joined in--"I am Booth, of Lincoln renown. People
never knew what became of me. I came here to the Harz mountains,
hoping to find favour with the noble Ilse after my heroic deed in
freeing my country from a tyrant; but the Princess called my act
murder, and I have been a sighing fir tree ever since."
"And you deserve it," cried Castiglione.
"Pull the beam out of your own eye, please," replied the infuriated
Booth. "You dare to reproach me, you, who did not hesitate to add
the last drop of an infant's blood to make your elixir of life? What
insolence!"
I felt sure they would come to blows right over my head. Happily a
melodious voice struck in, and interrupted the quarrel.
"I am Don Carlos, the unhappy son of Philip of Spain, and the victim
of priestly bigotry. The Inquisitors gained my royal father's
permission to make away with me, a son who loved him truly.
"I escaped, and History does not tell what became of me, simply
because she does not know. I fled here to Princess Ilse for refuge,
but I approached her at an unfavourable moment, and she transformed
me into this spruce. If I could only be set free I would carry out
my ideas of freedom."
"You are too late, my young friend," cried Castiglione. "Your ideas
have been carried out. You don't seem to have kept up with the
history of events. Bismarck has set the Germans free, and cleansed
the moral atmosphere of the whole empire, sent the Jesuits adrift,
and put a bayonet into the hands of every eighty men in a hundred to
keep them out."
Here a deep sigh was heard.
"Oh, I am tired with standing so long! Walking isn't half so
fatiguing. Oh, how my back aches!"
"Who are you?" cried Castiglione.
"I am the Wandering Jew. They keep up the story of my wanderings,
but I have stood here in this tree for ages, shivering or roasting."
I felt quite bewildered, and almost afraid in the midst of this odd
_Gesellschaft_, and shuddered as I thought more dreadful additions
would speedily be made to it.
Suddenly a radiant form stood before me. Such beauty no mortal eye
ever beheld outside of a dream. It was the Princess Ilse. Her long
golden curls fell nearly to her feet, over a silvery-like robe almost
transparent.
Her eyes were deep violet with an expression none could describe.
Above her milk-white regal brow glittered a diadem of brilliants and
sapphires. Bracelets and rings of diamonds and pearls adorned her
fair arms.
Extending her swan-white hand, with a ravishing smile, she said,
"Come, I will show thee my home, my palace, and thou shalt dine with
me."
We entered the Ilsenstein under a gigantic arch of mountain crystal;
a group of white-robed maidens met us, and attended us to the great
throne-room.
This was an immense chamber, lighted by a chandelier of brilliants
hung in the centre, and single lamp-shaped rubies and carbuncles hung
along the sides and in the corners.
The floor was of white and red roses, which were not crushed by the
tread, but remained ever in rich fulness.
On each side of this regal chamber were sixteen colossal Norman
arches, through which one saw, on the right advancing up it, a garden
of every sort of fruit-tree, all bearing ripe fruits.
At the left, flowers of every clime. Fountains played, white-robed
maidens moved among the fruit and flowers, or reclined on banks of
violets and roses.
Soft music floated around us. Between each arch was a seat. Every
seat was a bank of flowers, each different from the other.
Above each seat was a statue of a fairy of the Harz, alternately in
mountain crystal and snowy alabaster.
At the upper end, under a majestic arch, stood Princess Ilse's throne.
The throne was one ruby, the canopy a single pearl, the steps leading
up to the throne were emeralds.
Near the throne, in front of an arch, stood a table of silver, and
two chairs of mountain crystal beside it.
The service was of gold, filled with the viands of the fairy world,
and the choicest fruits and flowers.
A group of fair maidens sat in a rose arbour playing harp, lute, and
harpsichord, while others stood by the table in attendance.
A pearl plate was handed us, and Princess Ilse herself poured the
crimson wine into gilded crystal goblets bearing her monogram in
diamonds and sapphires, touched her glass to mine, and saying, "I
drink to thy happiness," she pressed her own glass to my lips, when
lo! I awoke, and there stood Josephine, poking a fern in my face.
"Oh, Josie!" I exclaimed, "you can never know of how much you have
robbed me with that stupid fern!"