Part 24 (1/2)

CHAPTER VI?WORMS AND THE NIBELUNGENLIED

Worms is celebrated as the locality of the Nibelungenlied and the epic of Walthar of Aquitaine. But it has other claims to fame. Before entering on the consideration of Germany?s greatest epic we will recount several of the lesser legends of the locality.

The Rose Garden: A Tale of Dietrich of Bern

Dietrich of Bern is the King Arthur of German story. Like his prototype of Britain, he has become the central figure of innumerable medieval tales and epics, a model of chivalry and martial prowess, distinguished everywhere by high deeds and mighty feats of arms, and in not a few cases displacing the rightful hero of still older myths, which thus became grafted on to the Dietrich legends. Originally he was a bona-fide historical personage, Theodoric the Ostrogoth, and as such gained a widespread popularity among his people. His historical character, however, was soon lost in the maze of legendary lore which surrounded his name, and which, as time went on, ascribed to him feats ever more wildly heroic. Among the various traditions there is one relating to the Rhenish town of Worms which calls for inclusion here as much on account of its intrinsic merit as because of its undoubted popularity. The legend of the Rose Garden of Worms is a quaint and fanciful tale, and even the circ.u.mstance that it ends with the death of several good knights and true does not rob it of a certain humorous quality it possesses.

By the time Dietrich had reached the prime of his adventurous life?so runs the story?he had gathered a considerable company of doughty paladins at his court?he formed, in fact, a kind of Round Table?and the knights who composed it were as eager as their lord to seek fresh fields wherein to display their prowess, and were second only to him in skill and valour. Among them were numbered such ill.u.s.trious warriors as Herbrand, his son Hildebrand, Eckehart, Wolfhart, and Amelung.

On one occasion, as Dietrich was seated at table with his followers, he vowed that no court in Christendom could boast of such warriors as he could muster. The a.s.sembled knights greeted the a.s.sertion with hearty acclamations?all, that is, save the old warrior Herbrand, and he was silent. Dietrich looked at him in surprise.

?Hast thou nothing to say, Herbrand?? he asked.

?Thinkest thou to find better knights than these???indicating his followers with a wave of his hand.

Herbrand seemed somewhat reluctant to uphold his tacit objection to Dietrich?s claim. ?Ay,? he said at length, ?there are such warriors to be found.?

?And where may we seek such paragons?? inquired the king, none too well pleased.

?In the town of Worms,? replied the old knight, ?there lies a wondrous rose garden, of great extent, where the queen and her ladies take their pleasure. None save these may enter its precincts unless the queen give him leave, and that the sacred boundaries may not be overstepped twelve warriors are set to guard the garth. Such is their strength and courage that none has ever succeeded in pa.s.sing them, whatever his skill and renown.?

?But wherefore should one seek to pa.s.s the guard?? asked a young knight.

?Is there a prize to be won, then??

?Truly,? sighed old Herbrand, ?I would not give a hair of my head for the prize. ?Tis but a crown of roses and a kiss from one of the queen?s ladies; though it is said, indeed, that they are as lovely as women may be.?

?Are there no fair maids in Bern?? cried the warriors indignantly. ?Must we go to the Rhine for them??

?For myself,? said Dietrich, ?I care little for the reward; yet methinks that for the honour and glory I would e?en meet these doughty warriors, and peradventure overcome them. Who will follow me to Burgundy??

As with one voice his knights responded to his appeal, and he chose eight from among them to accompany him on his quest. As there were still but nine, including Dietrich himself, to meet the twelve guardians of the Rose Garden, the king decided to send for three knights who were absent from the court. At the suggestion of Hildebrand he selected Rudiger of Bechlarn, Dietleib of Styria, and Ilsan, who was brother to Hildebrand and at that time a monk in the monastery of Munchenzell.

Rudiger was margrave to King Etzel, and had to obtain his lord?s permission to venture forth on the romantic undertaking; Dietleib?s father strongly recommended that the quest be abandoned, though the youth himself was as eager as any to accompany Dietrich; while as for Ilsan, he found it especially difficult to obtain leave of absence, for, naturally, his abbot deemed the enterprise a strange one for a monk who had fled all earthly delights. However, all difficulties were eventually overcome, and when the party was ready for departure Rudiger was sent on an emba.s.sy to King Gib.i.+.c.h at Worms, to prepare him for their coming.

Gib.i.+.c.h gave his ready consent to the proposed trial of strength, whereupon the warriors set out for the Rhine to see whether they might not win a kiss and a garland from some fair lady.

An imposing array did the knights of the Rose Garden make as they awaited the approach of the strangers, but no less imposing were Dietrich and his warriors. Each chose an opponent and immediately engaged in a fierce hand-to-hand struggle, which was to end disastrously for more than one brave knight. The first to dispatch his antagonist was Wolfhart, who submitted to being crowned with a rose-wreath, but disdained to accept the rest of the reward. The monk, who was the next victor, took the roses and kissed the maiden heartily. But alas! a bristly beard covered his chin, and the maid was left ruefully rubbing her pouting lips. One by one Dietrich?s knights overcame their adversaries, some of whom were slain and some wounded. Toward nightfall a truce was called, and Dietrich and his company set out to return to Bern, well satisfied with having disproved the a.s.sertion of Herbrand that there were better warriors in the world than Dietrich and his n.o.ble company.

The Devil?s Vineyard

There is a curious legend told to account for the excellent quality of the wine of Worms. An old n.o.bleman who at one time lived in that neighbourhood was in the habit of drinking more of the Rhenish wine than was good for him. In every other respect he was a most worthy man, kind, generous, and pious.

His piety, in an age when such qualities were rare, roused the ire of the Devil, who determined to bring about his fall, and as the old man?s love of wine was his only serious weakness, it was through this that the Fiend set himself to compa.s.s the n.o.bleman?s destruction.

The Devil therefore disguised himself as a strolling musician and made the acquaintance of the old man. The latter set before him some of the wine of the country, extolling meanwhile its rare qualities. The guest seemed not at all impressed by the recital, but spoke of a wine which he had tasted in the South and which far surpa.s.sed any other vintage. The n.o.bleman was all curiosity. The stranger talked of the wonderful wine with feigned reluctance, and at length his host promised to give him anything he should ask if only he would fetch him some of the wine.

Satan promised to plant a vineyard in Worms, asking in exchange the soul of his host, to be forfeited at the end of a fixed period.

To this the old man consented, and the strolling musician planted a vineyard which sprang up as though by magic. When the first vintage was produced it was found to be delicious beyond the dreams of the old n.o.bleman, who was indeed a connoisseur in wines. In his delight he christened the wine Liebfrauenmilch, signifying ?Milk of our Blessed Lady.? The Devil was furious at this reference to the Holy Virgin, but he consoled himself with the thought that in due course the man?s soul would be his. But the Virgin herself was pleased with the christening of the vineyard, and rather sorry for the foolish old n.o.bleman who had bartered his soul for the Devil?s wine. When, therefore, the time arrived for the Evil One to claim his fee, she sent her angels to drive him away, and thus he was robbed of his prey.

The old man, having learned the danger of treating with the Devil, now built a chapel to the Virgin in his vineyard. He lived for a long time to enjoy the luscious wine, under the protection of the saints, and never again did he make a compact with Satan.

Now, if anyone requires a proof of this marvellous story, is there not the Liebfrauenmilch, most delicious of wines to convince him of its truth?