''Elver's Hoh''

ELVER'S HOH

DANISH—M.G. Lewis
"The original is to be found in the Kiampe-Viiser, Copenhagen, 1739. My version of this ballad (as also of most of the Danish ballads in this collection) was made from a German translation to be found in Herder’s Volkslieder." [Lewis's note]

- - - -
The knight laid his head upon Elver’s Hoh,
    Soft slumbers his senses beguiling;
Fatigue press’d its seal on his eyelids, when lo!
    Two maidens drew near to him, smiling;
The one she kiss’d softly Sir Algamore’s eyes;
    The other she whisper’d him sweetly,
“Arise! thou gallant young warrior, arise,
    For the dance it goes gaily and featly!

“Arise, thou gallant young warrior, arise,
    And dance with us now and for ever!
My damsels with music thine ear shall surprise,
    And sweeter a mortal heard never—”
Then straight of young maidens appear’d a fair throng,
    Who their voices in harmony raising,
The winds they were still as the sounds flew along,
    By silence their melody praising.

The winds they were still as the sounds flew along,
    The wolf howl’d no more from the mountains;
The rivers were mute upon hearing the song,
    And calm’d the loud rush of their fountains:
The fish, as they swam in the waters so clear,
    To the soft sounds delighted attended,
And nightingales, charm’d the sweet accents to hear,
    Their notes with the melody blended.

“Now hear me, thou gallant young warrior, now hear!
    If thou wilt partake of our pleasure,
We’ll teach thee to draw the pale moon from her sphere,
    We’ll show thee the sorcerer’s treasure!
We’ll teach thee the Runic rhyme, teach thee to hold
    The wild bear in magical fetters,
To charm the red dragon, who broods over gold,
    And tame him by mystical letters.”

Now hither, now thither, then danced the gay band,
    By witchcraft the hero surprising,
Who ever sat silent, his sword in his hand,
    Their sports and their pleasures despising.
“Now hear me, thou gallant young warrior, now hear!
    If still thou disdain’st what we proffer,
With dagger and knife from thy breast will we tear
    Thine heart, which refuses our offer!”

Oh! glad was the knight when he heard the cock crow!
    His enemies trembled, and left him:
Else must he have stayed upon Elver’s Hoh,
    And the witches of life had bereft him.
Beware then, ye warriors, returning by night
    From court, dress’d in gold and in silver;
Beware how you slumber on Elver’s rough height,
    Beware of the witches of Elver!

1801


-from M.G. Lewis, Tales of Wonder (1801).
-originally published as Elvers Hoh in J.G. Herder, Volkslieder (1778).

(Illustration is Lawrence Koe, Venus and Tannhäuser, 1896)

The Tomb of Arminius

SIR HENGIST

M.G. Lewis
"Herman, or Arminius, is the favourite hero of Germany, whose liberty he defended against the oppression of Rome: Flavus, his brother, sided with the Romans, and in consequence his memory is as much detested by his countrymen, as that of Arminius is beloved. — I forget where I met with the original of this ballad." [Lewis's note]

- - - -
Where rolls the Weser’s golden sand,
Did erst Sir Hengist’s castle stand,
      A warrior brave and good;
His lands extended far and wide,
Where stream’d full many a plenteous tide,
      Where frown’d full many a wood.

It chanced, that homewards from the chace
Sir Hengist urged his courser’s pace,
      The shadowy dales among,
While all was still, and late the hour,
And far off, in the castle tower,
      The bell of midnight rung.

Sudden, a piercing shriek resounds
Throughout the forest’s ample bounds;
      A wildly dreadful yell;
The dogs, by trembling, own their fear,
As if they scent some bad thing near,
      Some soul enlarged from hell!

"See, father!" cried young Egbert; "see
Beneath the shade of yonder tree
      What fearful form is spread!
How fire around his temples glows!
How from his lance and fingers flows
      The stream of bloody red!"

"Stay here!" said Hengist, then with speed
Towards the stranger spurr’d his steed;
      "What brings thee here, Sir Knight,
Who dar’st in my domains to bear
A lance, and by thy haughty air
      Seem’st to demand the fight?"

"Long has my arm forgot to wield
The sword, and raise the massy shield,"
      Replied the stranger drear:
"Peace to this brown oak’s hallow’d shade!
Peace to the bones which here are laid,
      And which we both revere!

"Know’st thou not Siegmar, Herman’s sire,
That arm of steel, that soul of fire?
      Here is his grave. — My name
Is Flavus — at that sound the woods
With curses ring, and Weser’s floods
      My infamy proclaim!

"For such is vengeful Odin’s will
And doom, that traitor-curses still
      Thick on my head shall be,
Till from the blood of brethren slain,
My gory hands and lance again
      I pure and spotless see.

"Still then, when midnight hours permit
Pale spectres Hela’s realm to quit,
      I seek this hallow’d place;
With tears bedew these crimson blots,
And strive to wash away the spots
      No pains can now efface!"

He ceased; when Odin’s eagle came,
By Odin arm’d with blasting flame,
      And seized the phantom knight:
Loud shrieks the spectre’s pangs reveal’d,
And soon a cloud his form conceal’d
      From awe-struck Hengist’s sight.

"Son!" said the chief, with horror chill’d,
While down his brows cold dews distill’d,
      "Now take your sword in hand,
And swear with me, each drop of gore,
That swells your veins, well pleased to pour
      To guard your native land!"

1801


Lewis's "original" for this ballad from his Tales of Wonder has never been discovered, although the enmity between Arminius and Flavus to which the poem refers is noted by Tacitus.

(Illustration is Caspar David Friedrich, Tomb of Arminius, 1813, which Hugh Honour in Romanticism describes as one of Friedrich's "most moving images, that of a lonely sarcophagus set in a cleft of the living rock of ages at the heart of the German fatherland.")

''Alonzo the Brave, and Fair Imogine''

ALONZO THE BRAVE, AND FAIR IMOGINE

M.G. Lewis

A Warrior so bold, and a Virgin so bright
Conversed, as They sat on the green:
They gazed on each other with tender delight;
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the Knight,
The Maid's was the Fair Imogine.

"And Oh!" said the Youth, "since to-morrow I go
To fight in a far distant land,
Your tears for my absence soon leaving to flow,
Some Other will court you, and you will bestow
On a wealthier Suitor your hand."

"Oh! hush these suspicions," Fair Imogine said,
"Offensive to Love and to me!
For if ye be living, or if ye be dead,
I swear by the Virgin, that none in your stead
Shall Husband of Imogine be.

"If e'er I by lust or by wealth led aside
Forget my Alonzo the Brave,
God grant, that to punish my falsehood and pride
Your Ghost at the Marriage may sit by my side,
May tax me with perjury, claim me as Bride,
And bear me away to the Grave!"

To Palestine hastened the Hero so bold;
His Love, She lamented him sore:
But scarce had a twelve-month elapsed, when behold,
A Baron all covered with jewels and gold
Arrived at Fair Imogine's door.

His treasure, his presents, his spacious domain
Soon made her untrue to her vows:
He dazzled her eyes; He bewildered her brain;
He caught her affections so light and so vain,
And carried her home as his Spouse.

And now had the Marriage been blest by the Priest;
The revelry now was begun:
The Tables, they groaned with the weight of the Feast;
Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceased,
When the Bell of the Castle told,—"One!"

Then first with amazement Fair Imogine found
That a Stranger was placed by her side: His air was terrific;
He uttered no sound; He spoke not, He moved not,
He looked not around,
But earnestly gazed on the Bride.

His vizor was closed, and gigantic his height;
His armour was sable to view:
All pleasure and laughter were hushed at his sight;
The Dogs as They eyed him drew back in affright,
The Lights in the chamber burned blue!

His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay;
The Guests sat in silence and fear.
At length spoke the Bride, while She trembled, "I pray,
Sir Knight, that your Helmet aside you would lay,
And deign to partake of our chear."

The Lady is silent: The Stranger complies.
His vizor He slowly unclosed:
Oh! God! what a sight met Fair Imogine's eyes!
What words can express her dismay and surprize,
When a Skeleton's head was exposed.

All present then uttered a terrified shout;
All turned with disgust from the scene.
The worms, They crept in, and the worms, They crept out,
And sported his eyes and his temples about,
While the Spectre addressed Imogine.

"Behold me, Thou false one! Behold me!" He cried;
"Remember Alonzo the Brave!
God grants, that to punish thy falsehood and pride
My Ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side,
Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as Bride
And bear thee away to the Grave!"

Thus saying, his arms round the Lady He wound,
While loudly She shrieked in dismay;
Then sank with his prey through the wide-yawning ground:
Nor ever again was Fair Imogine found,
Or the Spectre who bore her away.

Not long lived the Baron; and none since that time
To inhabit the Castle presume:
For Chronicles tell, that by order sublime
There Imogine suffers the pain of her crime,
And mourns her deplorable doom.

At midnight four times in each year does her Spright
When Mortals in slumber are bound,
Arrayed in her bridal apparel of white,
Appear in the Hall with the Skeleton-Knight,
And shriek, as He whirls her around.

While They drink out of skulls newly torn from the grave,
Dancing round them the Spectres are seen:
Their liquor is blood, and this horrible Stave
They howl.—"To the health of Alonzo the Brave,
And his Consort, the False Imogine!"

1796


Originally published in Lewis's masterpiece The Monk (arguably the finest novel in the Gothic horror genre), this ballad on the theme of the spectre bridegroom clearly shows the influence of Gottfried August Bürger's "Leonore."

''King Hacho's Death-Song''

KING HACHO'S DEATH-SONG

RUNIC.--M.G. Lewis
"The original, but in a mutilated state, is inserted in Bartholin. Caus. Contemt. Mort. Here again, as also for the translations of 'The Water-King,' and of the 'Erl-King's Daughter,' I must express my obligations to Mr. Herder's Collection." [Lewis's note]

- - - -
GAUNDUL and Skogul came from Thor,
To choose a king from out the war,
Who to Valhalla's joys should speed,
And drink with Odin beer and mead.

Of Ingwa's race the king renown'd,
Biarner's brother, soon they found,
As arm'd with helmet, sword, and shield,
With eager step he sought the field,
Where clashing glaives and dying cries
Already told the combat's size.

With mighty voice he bids appear
Haleyger brave, and Halmygeer;
Then forth to urge the fight he goes,
The hope of friends, the fear of foes.
The Norman host soon round him swarms,
And Jutland's monarch stands in arms.

Firmly is grasp'd by Hacho bold,
The millstone-splitter's hilt of gold,
Whose blows give death on every side,
And, as 'twere water, brass divide;
A cloud of javelins veils the sky;
The crashing shields in splinters fly;
And on the casques of warriors brave
Resounds the stroke of many a glaive.

Now Tyr's and Bauga's weapons brown
Break on the Norman monarch's crown;
Now hotter, fiercer grows the fight,
Low sinks the pride of many a knight;
And, dyed in slaughter's crimson hue,
Torrents of gore their shields bedew;
From meeting weapons lightning gleams;
From gaping wounds the life-blood streams:
With falling corses groans the land,
And purple waves lash Storda's sand.

The warring heroes now confound
Buckler with buckler, wound with wound:
As eager as were battle sport,
Renown they seek, and death they court;
Till, never more to rise, they fall
In myriads; while, to Odin's hall,
The dæmon of the tempest brings
A blood-stream on his sable wings.

Apart the hostile chiefs were placed;
Broken their swords, their helms unlaced;
Yet neither thought his fate would be,
The hall of Odin soon to see.

--"Great is the feast of gods to-day,"
Propp'd on her sword, did Gaundul say,
"Since to their table they invite
"Hacho, and all his chiefs from flight!"--

The fated monarch hears too plain,
How speaks the chooser of the slain;
Too plain beholds his startled eye,
On their black coursers mounted high
The immortal maids, who near him stand,
Each propp'd on her resistless brand.

"Goddess of Combat!" Hacho cries,
"Thus dost thou give the battle's prize?
"And do then victory's gods deny
"To view my arms with friendly eye?"--
"Chide not!" fierce Skogul thus replied,
"For conquest still shall grace thy side;
"Thou shalt prevail, the foe shall yield,
"And thine remain the bloody field."--

She said, and urged her coal-black steed
Swift to the hall of gods to speed;
And there to Odin's heroes tell
A king drew near with them to dwell.

--"Hither," thus Odin spoke, "the king
"Let Hermoder and Braga bring;
"A monarch comes, a hero guest,
"Who well deserves with me to rest."--

Said Hacho, while his streaming blood
Pour'd down his limbs its crimson flood,
--"God Odin's eyes, my brethren bold,
"Our arms with hostile glance behold!"--

Then Braga spoke.--"Brave monarch, know,
"Thou to Valhalla's joys shalt go,
"There to drink mead in skulls of foes,
"And at the feast of gods repose:
"To greet thee at the magic gate,
"E'en now eight hero-brothers wait,
"With joyful eyes thy corning see,
"And wish, thou foe of kings, for thee."--

--"Yet be my sword," the King replied,
"Once more in Norman slaughter dyed;
"Let me, as heroes should, expire,
"And fall in fight, as fell my sire:
"So shall my glory live, and fame
"Shall long remember Hacho's name."--

He ceases, and to combat flies
He fights, he conquers, and he dies;
But soon he finds what joys attend,
Who dare in fight their days to end:
Soon as he gains Valhalla's gate,
Eight heroes there to greet him wait;
The gods a friend the monarch call,
And welcome him to Odin's hall.

Who in Valhalla thus shall be
Loved and revered, oh! bless'd is he;
His conquest and his fame shall long
Remember'd be, and live in song.
Wolf Fenris first his chain shall break,
And on mankind his fury wreak,
Ere walks a king in Hacho's trace,
Or fills so well his vacant place.

Since to the gods the king hath fled,
Heroes and valiant hosts have bled:
The bones of friends have strewed the sand;
Usurping tyrants sway the land:
And many a tear for Hacho brave
Still falls upon his honour'd grave.


-from M.G. Lewis, Tales of Wonder (1801).
-originally published as König Hakos Todesgesang in J.G. Herder, Volkslieder (1778).

(Illustration is William T. Maud (1865-1903), The Ride of the Valkyries.)