Musical Myths and Facts Volume I Part 8

For awhile everything appears silent as the grave, and the lonely pedestrian, pursuing some old track which faintly indicates the way to a village, is only occasionally bewildered by the sudden darkness occurring when a cloud obscures the moon, or by the startling brightness, should he reach unexpectedly a clearing in the forest just at the moment when a cloud has pa.s.sed across the moon, casting not far before him its shadow, which like a spectre rapidly flits over the brushwood, a.s.suming various uncouth shapes. Soon his imagination is excited by distant sounds never heard in open day--yelping of foxes, howling of wolves, grunting of wild boars; and now by the piteous cry of agony emitted by a bird which has fallen a prey to some ravenous beast.

Presently he is startled by an awful noise like the galloping of a cavalcade: a herd of stags is hastily fleeing through the wood. The cavalcade seems to come straight upon him; but soon the noise grows weaker, and quickly dies away. Now a whirlwind sweeping over the forest, and violently shaking the tops of the trees, gradually approaches the hara.s.sed pedestrian. At first only groaning and grumbling, it soon bursts forth into a terrific howl; and as it furiously pa.s.ses over the head of the involuntary witness, it scares from their hiding-places sundry owls, the hooting and screeching of which alone would suffice to make his hair stand on end. And when the whirlwind has swept over, and is only heard faintly murmuring in the distance, other sounds and apparitions not less terrifying are sure soon to arise. In short, the lonely wanderer, be he ever so intelligent an observer of nature, will most likely feel his heart eased of a heavy weight when he has left the forest behind him. Soon, having reached the end of his journey, he may put on his slippers with that comfortable sensation of relief which people are sure to experience when they have escaped an imminent danger.

It is all very well for him now to persuade himself that, after all, he has only witnessed some interesting natural phenomena; he may perhaps even smile at the superst.i.tious notions of simple-minded peasants. But of what avail is this to him? The night is not yet over, and he cannot escape a fearful dream of a personal encounter with the Wild Huntsman and his furious host.

From what has been said it will not surprise the reader that the reports of witnesses who profess to have met with the Wild Huntsman are at variance in many points. Much evidently depends upon the nature of the locality in which the mysterious apparition shows itself. In some parts of Germany particular stress is laid upon the softness and sweetness of his music. This conception may have originated in the pine-forests where the delicate needle-shaped leaves of the trees are vibrated by the wind like the strings of an aeolian harp. But, the blowing of the huntsman's horn seems to be an indispensable attribute to the furious chase. The country-folks in Mecklenburg, and in some other provinces in the North of Germany where Low German is spoken, on hearing the mysterious noise in the wood, say, "_De Wode tut!_" ("Woden is tooting!") thereby implying a series of unrhythmical sounds rather than a melodious succession of tones on the horn--in fact, sounds very much like the hooting of the owl. It is moreover a common belief that a kind of owl, called by the peasants _Tutosel_, always accompanies the Wild Huntsman with his furious host.

An account of an extraordinary occurrence given by an honest witness is, of course, generally preferable to a statement of the same occurrence merely obtained from hearsay; and the evidence of the witness deserves all the greater attention if he shows himself to be an intelligent and keen observer. The subjoined report of the German Baron Reibnitz may therefore interest the reader. It was communicated by the Baron to the Philosophical Society in Gorlitz, Silesia. As Gorlitz possesses a Philosophical Society, there must be clever fellows in the town. Be this as it may, the doc.u.ment is authentic, and has been faithfully translated from the German.

THE BOLD GERMAN BARON.

"The popular tradition of the Wild Huntsman, current in many places, prevails also still at the present day in my village of Zilmsdorf. From my earliest years I had been acquainted with it, but only from hearsay; and as soon as I had come into possession of my paternal inheritance, I gave the most stringent orders, especially to the night.w.a.tch, to inform me immediately, at any hour of the night, should this event come to pa.s.s.

"About thirty years ago, towards eleven o'clock on a clear night in the month of May, I heard a knocking at my window:--

"'Gracious Baron!' cried my night.w.a.tch, 'The Wild Huntsman! In the upper wood of Teuplitz!'

"I directly gave orders to arouse Staglich, my gamekeeper, who at that time--I being then a bachelor--was groom, gamekeeper, house-steward, in short all in all to me, and was moreover just of my own age, and certainly an excellent forester.

"'Go, fetch the horses! Make haste! Don't stop to saddle--only the horse-cloth; the Wild Huntsman is in the forest; we will welcome him!'

"This was the very thing for Staglich. In less than ten minutes we were mounted, well-armed, and were flying over meadows and ploughed fields towards the sounds of hunting-horns and the crying of hounds. Scarcely had we reached the heath when the noise ceased. We remained quiet. On a sudden we heard close by us a yelping much like that of a badger-dog when it has recovered the lost scent. Rapidly the yelping of dogs, large and small, with the sounds of horns, increased; and now commenced a truly furious chase, which moved towards the middle of the forest, where other hunting-horns besides were winding awfully. We spurred our horses and rushed forwards, but an impenetrable thicket compelled us to change our course, and to turn into a part of the forest where there was but little underwood, but where, notwithstanding the beautiful starlight night, it was so pitch dark that we really could not see the wood for the trees, as the saying is. The horses--which, as is well-known, are at night more nervous than men--shied several times.

"On a sudden the Wild Hunt appeared to come directly towards us, with a clamour so terrible that, as soon as we reached the summit of the hill where the highest forest trees stand, we called out to each other: 'Now at them!'

"Like a whirlwind it rushed past us, with awful music of voices and instruments, at a distance of scarcely forty paces. The horses snorted and shied, and that of my gamekeeper reared and fell backwards.

"'Heaven be merciful to us, and protect us!' we both cried. I hastened to his a.s.sistance, but he was already rising. Soon he was again at my side. Our horses nervously pressed close to each other. The Wild Hunt appeared to be over, when, after a little while, we heard it commencing anew a great distance off, in the open fields. Without waste of time we hastened in that direction, and soon reached the fields.

"The stars shone brightly and cheerfully. Now the Wild Hunt pa.s.sed before us; but as we approached, it gradually went off in a curved line, with sounding of horns, crying of hounds, and clattering of horses. Soon it was far away on the distant heath.

"We rode home, where the night.w.a.tch anxiously awaited us. He had already begun to doubt whether we should ever come back. It was past one o'clock."[18]

PROPHETIC CALLS OF BIRDS.

The calls of birds are perhaps more frequently considered as good presages than as unlucky ones. Among the Slavonic nations, especially the Poles and Lithuanians, the hooting of the owl predicts misery and death. Also in Germany, if the little screech-owl makes its appearance in a village during a moonlight night, and settling on a farm-building emits its melancholy notes, some people are sure to hint that there will be ere long a death in the family of the householder. Moreover, a similar superst.i.tion prevails in Hindustan.[19]

The croaking of a raven is considered in Russia and Servia as foreboding the shedding of blood.[20] The ancient tradition of the singing of the dying swan is familiar to everyone. Although our common swan does not produce sounds which might account for this tradition, it is a well-known fact that the wild swan (_cygnus ferus_), also called the whistling swan, when on the wing emits a shrill tone, which, however harsh it may sound if heard near, produces a pleasant effect when, emanating from a large flock high in the air, it is heard in a variety of pitches of sound, increasing or diminishing in loudness according to the movements of the birds and to the current of the wind. With the idea of the song of the dying swan appears to be connected the Scandinavian tradition of the Valkyrjas, who were maidens in armour with wings of swans. During a battle the Valkyrjas approached floating through the air, and hovering over the scene of carnage, they indicated who were to fall in the fight.[21]

The cuckoo is regarded by the Russians and by most other Slavonic nations as a bird of sadness. According to a Servian tradition the cuckoo (called _kukawiza_) was a girl who wept so continually for her deceased brother that she was transformed into a bird, which in two melancholy tones sends its unabating complaint through the air. A Servian girl who has lost her brother (lover?) never hears the cuckoo without shedding tears. Moreover, in Servia the cuckoo is considered as a prophetic bird, especially by the _heyduk_, or robber, who augurs from its earlier or later singing.[22]

Among the Germanic races the notes of the cuckoo, when in the spring it first makes itself heard, are generally considered as a good omen. It is still, as from Teutonic mythology it appears to have been in ancient time, a belief among the peasantry in Germany that if anybody counts the number of times this bird repeats its call, he may ascertain from it how many years he has still to live, or how many years will elapse before an event comes to pa.s.s which he has reason to expect. There is an old story told of a person who, having led a rather wicked life, in order to atone for it resolved to become a monk for the rest of his life. It happened that, just as he was entering the monastery, he heard the cuckoo crying its name the first time in the spring. He anxiously counted the number of calls; and finding them to amount to twenty-two repet.i.tions, he at once changed his mind. "If I have to live twenty-two years longer," he argued with himself, "I may as well enjoy twenty years longer the pleasures of this world, and then I shall have two whole years left to denounce its vanities in a monastery." So he at once returned to the world.

The country-la.s.ses in Sweden count the cuckoo's call to ascertain how many years they have still to remain unmarried; but they generally shut their ears and run away when they have heard it a few times. Should a girl hear it oftener than ten times, she will declare rather vexedly that she is not superst.i.tious, and that she has not the least faith in the cuckoo's call.

WHISTLING.

"Why! he makes music with his mouth!" exclaimed a native of Burmah when he observed an American missionary whistling; and the missionary noted down the words in his journal, with the reflection: "It is remarkable that the Burmese are entirely ignorant of whistling."[23] But may not the simple-minded Asiatic only have been astonished in observing what he thought unbecoming in a gentleman who had come to Burmah to teach a new religion?

The Arabs generally disapprove of whistling, called by them _el sifr_.

Some maintain that the whistler's mouth is not to be purified for forty days; while others are of opinion that Satan touching a man's person causes him to produce the offensive sound.[24]

The natives of the Tonga Islands, Polynesia, consider it wrong to whistle, as being disrespectful to their G.o.ds.[25]

In European countries people are met with who object to whistling on a certain day of the week, or at certain times of the day. The villagers in some districts of North Germany have the saying, that if one whistles in the evening it makes the angels weep. The villagers in Iceland say that even if one swings about him a stick, whip, wand, or aught that makes a whistling sound, he scares from him the Holy Ghost; while other Icelanders, who consider themselves free from superst.i.tions, cautiously give the advice: "Do it not; for who knoweth what is in the air?"[26]

There seem to have been, however, in all ages light-hearted persons who, defying the superst.i.tious views of their compatriots, have whistled to their heart's content, or for the amus.e.m.e.nt of those who set at nought popular prejudices.

Joseph Strutt, in his 'Sports and Pastimes of the People of England'

records the astonishing performance of a whistler who, a.s.suming the name of Rossignol, exhibited at the end of the last century his talent on the stage of Covent Garden Theatre. Again, an amusing account is given in the 'Spectator' (Vol. VIII., No. 570) of a skilful whistler, who was the host of the tavern especially patronised by Addison and Steele; and the writer concludes his description of the host's surprising talent by recommending his readers to repair to the tavern and to order a bottle of wine for the sake of the whistling.

The Russians in the Ukraine tell a queer story about a whistling robber of old, who must have been a person of fabulously large dimensions, for he used to sit, we are told, on nine oak trees at once. His name is still known; but it would be an infliction upon the reader to put before him a name almost entirely made up of consonants, and only p.r.o.nounceable by a Russian. This celebrated robber had, however, also a nickname signifying "Nightingale," which was given to him on account of his extraordinary whistling powers. Whenever a traveller happened to enter the forest in which the robber Nightingale had his domicile, it was pity for him if he had neglected to make his will; for the robber Nightingale whistled so impressively that the poor traveller must needs faint away, and then the wretched whistler stepped forward and killed him outright.

But, at last, a great hero, who was besides a holy man, and whose name was Ilja Murometz, repaired to the forest to subdue the robber Nightingale. Having hit him with an arrow, and taken him prisoner, he bound him to the saddle of his horse and escorted him to Kiev to the court of the Grand-Prince Vladimir. Even there the fettered whistler proved most dangerous. For when the Grand-Prince, merely from curiosity, and perhaps to see whether his courtiers had told him the truth, commanded the robber to whistle before him--the Grand-Princess and all the royal children being present--the man at once commenced whistling in a manner so overpowering that soon Vladimir with his whole family would inevitably have been dead, had not some brave courtiers, perceiving the danger, got up and shut the whistler's mouth.

Moreover, some enlightened Russians say that the story must not be taken literally. At the time of the introduction of Christianity into Russia there lived near Kiev, they say, a pagan high-priest who was so distinguished an orator that he actually succeeded in drawing many to his side to check the spread of Christianity. This man, whose powers of persuasion were so great that his adherents called him Nightingale, was at last vanquished by his Christian antagonist Murometz. The bones of Murometz, we are further informed, have never decayed, and are still annually exhibited in Kiev to be venerated by an a.s.semblage of pious believers.[27]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[7] 'Notices of j.a.pan.' The Chinese Repository, Vol. IX. Canton, 1840, P. 620.

[8] 'Deutsche Mythologie, von Jacob Grimm. Gottingen, 1854.' P. 860.

[9] 'Alt-islandische Volks-Balladen, ubersetzt von P. J. Willatzen.

Bremen, 1865.' P. 83.

[10] 'Sketches relating to the History, Religion, Learning, and Manners of the Hindoos, [by Q. Craufurd.] London, 1790.' P. 153.

[11] 'The Oriental Collections, Vol. I. London, 1797.' P. 70.

[12] 'Polynesian Researches, by William Ellis. London, 1829.' Vol. II., P. 415.

[13] 'History of the Indian Archipelago, by John Crawfurd. Edinburgh, 1820.' Vol. I., P. 304.

[14] 'A View of the History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos, by the Rev. W. Ward. Madras, 1863.' P. 62.

[15] 'The History of Greenland, by David Crantz. London, 1767.' Vol. I., P. 233.

[16] 'Journal of an Expedition to explore the Course of the Niger, by Richard and John Lander. New York, 1844.' Vol. I., P. 366.

[17] 'Ill.u.s.trations of j.a.pan, by M. t.i.tsingh. London, 1822.' P. 201.

[18] 'Sagenbuch der Lausitz, von Karl Haupt. Leipzig, 1862.' P. 124. The descriptive music of the Wild Hunt in Weber's opera, 'Der Freischutz,'

is probably in the recollection of most musicians. It agrees remarkably well with the popular traditions.

[19] 'A View of the History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos, by the Rev. W. Ward. Madras, 1863.' P. 160.

[20] 'Stimmen des Russischen Volks, von P. v. Gotze. Stuttgart, 1828.'

P. 17.