Showing posts with label german heritage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label german heritage. Show all posts

Saturday, October 30, 2010

The Erl-King

This is one of my very favorite poems. I can just imagine my German ancestors living in fear of the Erl-king. What better way to celebrate All Hallows Eve than with the German folktale/song/poem, The Erl-King?

Der Elrkonig (The Erl-king)
by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Who's riding so late through th' endless wild?
The father 't is with his infant child;
He thinks the boy 's well off in his arm,
He grasps him tightly, he keeps him warm.

My son, say why are you hiding your face ?
Oh father, the Erlking 's coming apace,
The Erlking 's here with his train and crown!
My son, the fog moves up and down.

Be good, my child, come, go with me!
I know nice games, will play them with thee,
And flowers thou 'It find near by where I live,
pretty dress my mother will give.

Dear father, oh father, and do you not hear
What th' Erlking whispers so close to my ear?
Be quiet, do be quiet, my son,
Through leaves the wind is rustling anon.

Do come, my darling, oh come with me!
Good care my daughters will take of thee,
My daughters will dance about thee in a ring,
Will rock thee to sleep and will prettily sing.

Dear father, oh father, and do you not see
The Erlking's daughters so near to me?
My son, my son, no one 's in our way,
The willows are looking unusually gray.

I love thee, thy beauty I covet and choose,
Be willing, my darling, or force I shall use!
Dear father, oh father, he seizes my arm!
The Erlking, father, has done me harm.

The father shudders, he darts through the wild;
With agony fill him the groans of his child.
He reached his farm with fear and dread;
The infant son in his arms was dead.



Thursday, July 22, 2010

Marked?



It all began on that night so long ago. It was hot when it happened, it was sometime way down in the summertime. I remember it was about the time the crickets start to hollerin’ but before the nights start to get chilly. I remember that I was wide awake that first night because it was too hot to sleep. Me and brother slept upstairs in the little bedroom, and it was there that I first seen it. I was lookin’ out the window upon the moonlit night and watched as it casted shadows over the trees whenever a cloud happened to pass by. It was then that it happened, I see them start to crawling. It was snakes, lot of ‘em, and they kept crawling and writhing all around the sill and even tried to get traction up on the glass. Then a giant yellow snake appeared in amongst all the rest of them and it was clear to me that he was the snake king. I took to hollerin’ for Maw and Paw and soon enough they come runnin’ to find out what was the matter. By that time, brother had run over to the top of the steps as if that in some way would speed up Maw and Paw. When they finally got to me, I told them what I seen, Maw just grabbed me up in her arms and started bawlin’ and mumblin’ out loud about how I was marked. Her baby was marked. That night and every night after that I kept seeing them snakes and they kept comin’ back to the window night after night.

Maw did what she could to keep them snakes away from the window, she put little pots of mint out on the window sill, and she would hang dried snake root inside of the window from the curtain rod. I think she knew that what she was doing was going to be of no use since they were spirit snakes, but she done it anyway. Every morning when we’d get up, those little pots of mint would be knocked out onto the ground below the windowsill, and the pots busted. The snake root would be all dried up and shriveled, and would be as black as coal. After a few nights of this, Maw talked to Granny about it because that was the only person she trusted with this information. If people were to find out that I was marked, I would have a hard row to hoe.

Granny said it sounded to her like I was witched, and that we should see Bromie, the old woman that lived way up on the mountain. It was rumored that she was marked as a child and that she was forced to live up on the mountain, out and away from everybody else, because people was afraid of her and thought her to be evil. Granny told us to go right away because she’d always heard that spirit snakes would keep coming night after night until eventually they got inside and then I would be in real danger. Granny took out a handkerchief and put all manner of stuff in it and tied it up, and said to give it to Bromie when we went to see her.

We left that day about noon and it took about an hour to climb up the ridge to Bromie’s little house. As was expected of callers, Maw started calling out Bromie’s name long before we got to her house so as to let her know we was coming. By the time we got to the clearing that led to Bromie’s front door, she was sitting there waiting on us.

Maw made the appropriate niceties to Bromie and gave her the tied up handkerchief that Granny had prepared for her. Maw explained to Bromie how she thought I was marked and how the snakes was coming to me every night. Bromie, with her eyes slightly squinted, looked at me and then back at maw and said, “Nothin’ much to worry about, as long as they ain’t a yeller one in amongst them.” I blurted out, “there is a yellow one, he’s their king.” Upon hearing this, Bromie looked a bit shocked and muttered, “They must be at it again…”

Trying to be polite about it, as quickly as she could, Maw asked if there was anything that she could do to help me. Bromie explained, “Snakes come to youngin’s a lot, especially in the heat of the summer. They sense a pure heart and if there’s one thing snakes don’t like, it’s that. But that yeller one is what bothers me. That is the boy’s soul snake. They say that everybody has a soul snake out there, but it’s seldom that the soul snake finds its match. When it does it means one of two things, either the soul snake will keep on trying to get to its match until the match dies or the match will be marked as a snake witch.”

I remember being scared to death at what Bromie told us. Maw was too, but she was also smart. She asked Bromie was there anything that could be done to stop it. “Sure is,” Bromie said, “but it ain’t an easy thing to do. You need a snake witch to stop that yeller snake.”

“Ain’t you a snake witch, Bromie?” I piped up.

Blood drained from Maw’s face when I said that, she was just sure that I had offended Bromie by calling her a snake witch.

“I was marked years ago. Young man, I’ll help you because you are pure of heart and I know you mean well. I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemy. Besides, I reckon I owe your Granny a great debt for all that she has helped me with over the years. I reckon I would have starved to death long ago if it hadn’t been for her leaving me jars of food and sacks of dried apples and such out in the woods where I could find them.”

“I didn’t know Granny knew you,” I said.

“Nobody knows it. Your Granny does things for me that nobody knows, for if they did, your Granny would be an outcast, too.”

“She’s a good woman, that’s for sure,” Mama said, “I know what people say about you and I knew you lived up here but I never did think about it. I always reckoned you lived up her because you wanted to.”

“I live up her because this is the only place I can live. I can’t live anywhere that would make my life an easy one, for that is when the snakes would return,” Bromie explained.

“What causes this sort of thing. Why are the snakes bothering us my boy?” Mama asked.

“Because they can. You see, somebody long ago witched this whole mountain, and everybody who lived on it and everyone who would ever live on it. At any given time there has to be a marked snake witch that lives on it. There can only be one snake witch at a time, but there is always going to be one that lives here on this mountain,” Bromied added.

Mama asked, “But you said that you were a snake witch, and since you already live here, then why are they bothering my boy?”

“I reckon we both know the answer to that,” Bromie said softly. With her eyes cast down and the gray strands of hair poking out of her old worn-out sun bonnet, “The good book says we don’t know the hour nor the day, but I reckon I’ll come closer to that than most. To be honest, I welcome the death angel even though I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone else.”

Bromie added, “Here’s what we’ll do, you’re going to have to leave the boy with me tonight, you can stay here to if you’d like, but you can’t interrupt anything or say anything once the sun goes down. Now I mean that, you don’t know the things I know so I’m only going to tell you once that if you stay, you can’t do or say anything once that sun goes down until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.”

“I understand,” Mama affirmed, “but I would like to stay with the boy. I’m going to have to go down and tell everybody where I’ll be staying tonight so they won’t worry, but I’ll be back long before dark.”

“Just leave the boy with me,” Bromie stated, “we have work to do anyway.”

I was scared to be left there with Bromie, but I trusted her. She knew my Granny and that meant a lot in my book. We watched as Maw made her way down the path on the ridge, and when she was out of earshot, Bromie turned to me and said, “Young Gentleman, what you say we get to work.”

From an old pasteboard box up on a shelf, Bromie took out a little black book. “This here is the Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses. It has everything we need to stop these snakes. Now, I’m going to have to make you sleep in a burlap sack but we need to keep it covered with a quilt at all times. I know it is going to get powerful hot under there, but that is what we need to do. I promise I won’t hurt you and I’ll do my best to see that those snakes don’t either.”

It seemed like a short time when Maw came walking back up the ridge. I reckon it seemed so short to me because me and Bromie had been making plans for that night. She read the books over me, and did some chants, and she tied some roots onto a piece of twine and told me to hang it around my neck. She told me to take off my shoes so I’d be more comfortable, and she took them from me as I pulled them off my feet. It wasn’t long after Maw got back that we ate a bite of supper and waited on darkness to arrive.

That night it was dark. Real dark. There was no moon at all, and there was no breeze to speak of neither. It was stifling. Bromie said, “Yep, they ain’t going to make it easy on us.”

Bromie told Maw to settle in somewhere in the room and to stay put, and remember what she had told her earlier.

Bromie put me in the sack, only my shoulders and head were out of it, and she covered that with a big, heavy quilt. “What keeps out cold will keep out heat,” she said as she prepared me for bed. “Try and get some sleep if you can. It’d be better if you didn’t know what was going to happen anyway.”

I was tired from walking so far that day, and the heat just took it out of me. As uncomfortable as I was, it wasn’t long before I was fast asleep. Maw stayed awake and heard Bromie praying over me, and watched as she opened all of the windows and the door and welcomed in all spirits that was seeking me. Maw said she seen it with her own eyes, it wasn’t long after Bromie started calling up the spirits that a giant yellow snake poked it head in the door from out in the darkness. It looked around and slithered in and toward the bed where I lay.

Making slow, deliberate movements, Bromie made her way toward the open door and she quietly shut it, and one by one, she closed the windows. Then she picked up a large clay pot and loudly started chanting in a tongue Maw had never heard. When she started that chanting, Maw said that ol’ snake just froze in its path and turned and looked at Bromie. She kept right on singing and slowing lowering the pot down to the snake. Just then, the snake reared up on its tail and swayed back and forth. Bromie paid it no mind and kept on with her chanting. The snake began to coil and strike out at the darkness, but Bromie continued her chanting. Then, the snake turned toward the bed where I lay and started coming closer and closer. Bromie kept right on singing, though now a little louder and with more feeling. Maw said she could tell things was getting very tense. Maw said that snake laid its head right down on the foot of that bed but then turned back toward Bromie and that clay jar. Then in one fluid movement, it made a great lunge at Bromie. Just as quickly, Bromie threw up the open jar in front of her and the snake went right into it. Bromie quickly put a lid on it, and with seemingly otherworldly skill, she grabbed up a bundle of herbs of some sort and lit them and threw them into the pot, and then she sat down on top of it.

After a few minutes, and much thrashing about inside of the clay jar, Bromie turned to Maw and said, “I believe that will do it. You can speak now.”

Without saying a word, Maw just lay there, and remained silent. Bromie repeated herself but Maw again ignored her.

Morning came in a few hours and the light of day brought with it some remarkable sights. Bromie was sitting on the front stoop when Maw walked outside. “I reckon you seen things last night that you never hoped you would.”

“Yes,” Maw said matter of factly. “I don’t reckon there is much any of us can say about that.”

“I’m glad you remembered what I had told you. You see, when that soul snake went in that pot and I threw the burning brand in on him, part of that spirit went into me. That is why I am marked,” Bromie continued, “all snakes great and small, spirit or living, can share my body. I wish it wasn’t so, but it is what it is. If you had of answered me or made any movements, that spirit probably would have attacked you, and there wouldn’t have been anything I could have done.”

“Can you tell me why that snake went for you instead of the boy on the bed, since it was the boy it was seeking?” Maw asked.

“Well you see, while you were gone, I had the boy take his shoes off and give them to me. I put the shoes down in the clay pot. I knew that soul snake would get the scent of the boy from those shoes. Of course,” Bromie added, “the boy still had his scent on himself, that is why I gave him a charm to hang around his neck that kills scent, and I had him sleep in a burlap sack that I had gathered chamomile in last month so the burlap also hid some of his scent. The quilt on top is the one I use to lay out my drying herbs in the sun. I never use it so it wouldn’t have people scent on it. That helped cover up his scent even more, and it would have protected him had the soul snake tried to attack him.”

She continued, “I reckon you heard that singing that I done. It is part of being a snake witch. What I done was use those words to put that soul snake into a trance. One it was in the clay jar, I threw in the cleaning herbs which ridded this world of that spirit. You’re boy will not be bothered by snakes again. I just want you to know that what I done wasn’t evil, what I done is straight out of the good book, from the Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses. Most people just don’t know where to look for those books. I don’t want you thinking that I was witching the boy.”

“Bromie,” Maw said, “I want you to know that I will forever be indebted to you for what you have done. I don’t think you are evil and I want you to know that you are welcome to visit our home any time that you want. You will always find a plate set at our table for you.”

“Oh no, you mustn’t do that, people will shun you as they have me,” Bromie pleaded.
“I reckon I can invite to my home whoever I want to” Maw replied. “Besides, Granny must set a great store by you to have helped you out all the years as you said she has done, so you must be a good person. I reckon between me and Granny, we can set the old gossipmongers to packing should they ever utter a bad word about you in our presence.”

“I’ll not hear anyone speak ill of you in my presence.” Maw added, “You’ll find that I am loyal to those that are loyal to me and mine, and what I seen you do last night was far above and beyond what I have ever seen anyone do for us. So if you ever find yourself down on our property and see something you want, why you just take a share of it and all will be well. That way, you can still live the way you must and we will be able to begin to repay you for all that you have done for us.”

Bromie just said, “I’d appreciate it. I reckon now that I have done what I done, the snakes will rethink their plans about replacing me with somebody younger. I suspect they’ll come around and aggravate me for some time to come but nothing I ain’t used to. I’ve been marked now, oh, going on 70 years. That’s why I reckon I done what I done. I couldn’t bear the thought of that youngin’ in there having to live like I’ve had to live all these years. Like I said before, I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemy.”

Monday, July 13, 2009

A Good Idea?

I visited home over the 4th of July weekend, and while there I was struck with an idea. That idea was to walk a little of the North Mountain Trail at the top of our mountain. I had been down the trail many, many times over the years, and I remembered it was really pretty, very quiet and a good walk. I asked my Mom and my brother to go with me, and they did.

We walked the trail for about 5 minutes and came to the first overlook, I knew it was a good overlook but I also knew a better view awaited just around the next bend. Still, I was caught off-guard with the remarkable view that lay before me.



As I walked closer to the cliff, this was the vista that greeted me.



There was a nice breeze that day, especially considering the wind coming off of Spruce Knob smashed against the cliffs, creating a great updraft. It was a nice contrast to the nearly oppressive humidity. I looked out over Germany Valley for a few minutes then continued on down the trail to my favorite overlook. Along the way, we picked the ripening huckleberries, they were so good.




Then we arrived at a truly breathtaking sight. The strong mountain breezes slapped me in the face as I looked out over beautiful Germany Valley. The cliffs of North Mountain Rocks were a stark contrast to the lush valley below. The huge oak trees under the rocks looked miniature, and there was at least 100 feet from the cliffs to the treetops. I knew of the view that awaited me, but never have I been able to prepare. To me, this is the most beautiful sight in West Virginia.



Of course, no trip to the North Mountain Rocks would be complete without some mention of Old Fon, the legendary goatman who lures small children up to the cliffs and shoves them off. And then there was the obligatory mention of Der Belsnickle, the mean (or perhaps just misunderstood) German version of Santa Claus who came to these cliffs with my ancestors back in the early 1700's.



We also remembered a little girl named Haddie Whitecotton, a friend of my great-grandmaw Mary, who while helping make hay one day, wandered off up into the mountains, and who was found dead over a month later. She was about 5 or 6 years old. The search party found her body up on top of the mountain near a massive mound of boulders. Nobody could figure out how she would have gotten up there through all the rough terrain. Some figured that a mountain lion had carried her up there since her body was covered with leaves when they found her. Others suspected a giant hawk had carried her up on the cliffs. A giant hawk had been seen in the vicinity carrying off a small calf only a week before Haddie turned up missing. Nobody ever knew for sure, and now a lonely little white cross marks the location where Haddie's body was found 100 years ago.

My family has been on this mountain for so long, it seems that everywhere I look I am reminded of a story about one of them. This mountain has sustained my family for so long, we are a part of it. My blood is a part of this mountain, and this mountain is part of my blood. The mountain seems to remember all of us, and it reminds us when we listen.



So what do you think? Was it a good idea to go for a walk out on the North Mountain Rocks? I think so.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Still Alive After All This Time

While reading the 30 April 2009 issue of The Pendleton Times, my home county newspaper, I came across a news item from the Sugar Grove news titled "German Folk Culture Still Lives Today". This got me to thinking about this topic, and using some information from the aforementioned The Pendleton Times article, I came up with today's post.

When immigrants came to America, their cultural contact was usually broken with the mother country. In the case of many of my ancestors, that mother country was Germany. Within a few generations, the knowledge of the German language and the ability to read and write it waned, and soon a folk culture developed, which encompassed the world of the proverb, superstition and folk medicine. In many parts of the country, “progress” so slow in coming, so this folk culture flourished and became part of everyday life.

While many ways remained that came over from the mother country, most of them were meshed with the new folk culture to form an amalgamation of cultures that, in some areas, remain to this day. While it is beginning to be lost, my home of Germany Valley in Pendleton County is one of these last remaining pockets to cling to the old ways that have been practiced since the early 1700’s.

There are old bits of German poetry that was passed on by word of mouth from generation to generation, sometimes forgotten, sometimes altered. Counting out rhymes were and to an extent, still are popular with young children. As you can see, they are a mesh of the old German language and the newer folk culture. While most (I’d say all, but when a person says all, they can usually be proven a liar) who teach these rhymes have no idea what the German words mean, they have never-the-less remained for around 300 years.

Eins, zwey, drey.
Mommy caught a fly!
The fly died,
Mommy cried;
Eins, zwey, drey!
==========
Hex foot, hex foot;
Toad foot, toad foot!
Long snout, long snout!
Nothing out, nothing out!

==========
Dibble, dobble, thimble head!
Set the farmer on his head;
Who must out, I or thou—
Or miller’s old brown cow
And that are Thou.


Folklore was commonly passed onto the next generations by an elderly member of the family, as in the following:

Hoppi, hoppi, hoppi,
Pony goes galoppi,
Over stock, over stone
Never crack the left shin bone;
Always at a galoppi,
Hoppi, hoppi, hoppi.


Local hexmeisters and powwow doctors provided most of the medical attention in the Pennsylvania Dutch settlements. Hexmeisters cured by using chants and incantations; and by using the power of hex symbols. Many of these hex signs can still be seen today, painted on barns and houses. Many people still believe in the power of the hex signs. (Also, you may not know this, the reason most barns are painted red with white trim, is a direct result of the hexmeister. Red is a power color, and the white trim around doors, windows and openings protected against witches. Also, if you see a barn or outbuilding with white trimmed windows, those are known as “Witch Windows” in Pennsylvania Dutch communities).


An old barn with hex signs on it. The big white circles have a symbol painted on them in case this photo doesn't show it. This symbol is called a rosette, and a sign for basic good fortune and prosperity. This barn is located near Circleville, Pendleton County, WV.

Powwow doctors used a combination of herbal cures and faith healing. Don’t confuse the Pennsylvania Dutch Powwow Doctor with the Native American dance. They are not the same at all. Most powwow doctors used a combination of folk medicine and the Holy Bible. If you believe, there is a multitude of cures for just about any disease or ailment in the first and second books of Moses. The first book of Moses (Genesis) and the second book of Moses (Exodus) can be found in every Holy Bible. That is no secret; the secret is in knowing how to use them. Most powwow and hexmeister secrets were passed on by word of mouth and were kept secret from the masses, lest their powers be used for evil.

Here is a common powwow cure to ease the pain in a child who has hurt himself:

Owley, Owley, keeley hay!
Tomorrow morn it’s all away.

To cure more serious pain, a powwow might use a healing stone on you and repeat three times, starting and stopping each time with the trinity:

Hair and hide,
Flesh and blood,
Nerve and bone,
No more pain than this stone.

Powwowing also assisted in matters that were of importance to the community. Topics of the weather, livestock, gardening and an array of other topics were all in the repertoire of the powwow doctor. Here is another example of something a powwow doctor could assist with:

To keep a bee from stinging you, repeat in an even tone:

Hummler, brummler,
Do not sting
Until devils
Benediction bring.


The following cure was used to stop bleeding:

Auf Christi grab wachsen Drei Rosen,
Die erste is gutig,
Die ander ist nach herrschen viel,
Blut steh still, und wunde heil.

Three roses grow on Christ’s grave;
The first is gracious,
The second would rule.
Blood stand still,
Wound heal!


And here is how to get rid a hex or witching that has been placed upon you or your property:

Take an unwashed jar; take thread spun by a maiden not yet seven years of age; put water (urine) from an animal in the jar. Then take an egg from a black hen, wrap the thread around the egg three times, and speak “In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” while doing it. Then put the egg in the water, close the jar, turn it upside down so no moisture escapes and set it near the fire, saying: “Get rid of the witch in the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Christmastime in the Land of the Belsnickel

Here is a story that I wrote about the Belsnickel. Please don't refer to him as Santa Claus, or else I'll have to go Belsnickel on you! This was originally written as a children's story, but as the story progressed I think it became apparent that it is a little much for most children. The Belsnickel story here is an amalgamation of Belsnickel tales that I have heard all of my life. My Grandmaw Mary always said that the Belsnickel lived up on North Mountain rocks, up the mountain from where we lived. I find this incredible since there are so many other creatures that inhabit these cliffs (i.e. Old Fon, The Snollygaster, Old Saul). Many of the tidbits that you will read in my story come from different tales told by my Grandmaw Mary.

People where I am from in Germany Valley, WV, still talk about the Belsnickel and belsnickling, which occured every year around Christmastime. People dressed up in costumes and went door to door, scaring people and it was all great fun. People tried to guess who you were in the costume, and if they didn't, they had to give you a cup of hot cider or some other form of treat. While this belsnickling still occurs in some parts of Pendleton County, it doesn't in my old neighborhood, the last time anyone can remember it was in the early 1980's. My Dad talks about going belsnickling when he was a kid and remembers it fondly, he said that if people expected belsnicklers to come by, they'd make up cakes, cookies and other goodies and pass them out. Dad also recalls that some homes they visited gave them fruit (Apples & Oranges), which to him were a real treat. You have to remember, this is the dead of winter in a very harsh area, so I'm sure these belsnicklers were a sight to see, carrying lanterns and singing and hollering at the top of their lungs, celebrating a centuries old tradition from a far-off land. Keeping with the traditions of my ancestors, I proudly display my belsnickel every Christmas, and even have a huge belsnickel that tops our Christmas tree.

The following is an old photo of belsnicklers in the Bland Hills of Pendleton County. The 3rd man from the left is Boss Bland, a friend of my grandpaw Alfred Kile (whom I talked about in the post "The Ballad of Alfred and Attie"). Notice the masks at the belsnicklers feet!



========================

Christmastime in the Land of the Belsnickel
by Matthew Burns, December 2008.

There is a land
Of wilderness glades, and craggy cliffs,
Of hidden coves and ancient forests.
Home of the Belsnickel.

Among this dark forest
Under the roots of a great oak tree
There is a limestone cavern
That is completely hidden from view.

In this dank cavern, Belsnickel makes his home,
He is hairy and covered in animal pelts,
With moss in his hair and lichens on his skin.
He lives in the cave, with his loyal servant Rupert.

Rupert is donned in the same manner as Belsnickel,
Only he is even dirtier,
Blackened from the soot of many fires
And smudged with the grease of many meals.

Every year, when it gets to be about this time of year.
When the leaves have been shed, the winter winds start to howl,
And the forest creatures prepare for winter in their own way.
Belsnickel and Rupert start plotting….

Plotting mischief and mayhem, of wreaking havoc
On the intruders who live in their valley.
They regale in events of seasons past, when they scared cattle,
Carried away children, and spread fear throughout the countryside.

A favorite pastime of Belsnickel and Rupert is tossing dried leaves and moss.
Down the chimneys of the valley homesteads,
Causing flue fires that sometimes engulf the home.
And laugh as the intruders frantically try to save their belongings.

Belsnickel has also been known to feed wild onions to the dairy cows,
So their milk will taste of onions and will be unfit for use by the intruders.
But most of all, Belsnickel and Rupert await Christmas Eve.
When everyone is indoors, reveling in the merriment of the season.

That is when Belsnickel becomes most embittered for being disturbed.
He loves the Winter Solstice, but can’t even bay at the moon,

Without the intruders hunting him with their ferocious hounds.
Belsnickel reckons that if he can’t celebrate, neither will they.

Late in the night, he and Rupert go from house to house,

Prying open the windows and breaking down doors.
Seeking vengeance they will yank children from their slumber,
And beat them with switches. Rupert hopes to toss a few in his sack, as well.

At these thoughts, pure joy shows on the face of Belsnickel and Rupert,
Primitive chuckles erupt from Ruperts snaggled mouth.
They are both anxious for night to fall,
And to begin their night of havoc.

Hours later, the forest is again quiet and Belsnickel and Rupert,
Having returned to their lair, await morning.
Fulfilled with their accomplishments, they celebrate.
They are the protectors of the forest, and without them, all would be lost.

In the valley, the bewildered & fearful intruders tell their children,
“Der Belsnickel punishes you for being bad. Next year you must be better.”
Through the giant roots of the oak tree, Belsnickel glances at the moon,
And breaks into a sorrowful and celebratory howl.


Monday, December 1, 2008

A Week On The Mountain

I’m back from the mountain. I had a pretty good time visiting my family, and traipsing around my old haunts. I even had time to get in a couple of days deer hunting. I saw lots of deer but refused to shoot one where I’d have to drag it for a mile or so, so I reckon you could say I am a little too picky to be a good hunter!
The old farm.

On Monday and Tuesday, Dad and I went out hunting. Monday we walked all over the old farm and seen how the old place is faring now that it sits vacant, and on Tuesday it snowed and snowed and snowed. It really was blizzard like conditions so we just holed up by a cedar stand and tried to wait out the storm, and hoped that some unwary deer would walk out to us. Well, the storm didn’t pass so I decided to just walked around and take some photos. I figured that even deer wouldn’t be out in that kind of weather.




Above: Scenes from walking around the farm just as it began to snow.

After freezing my butt on Tuesday, I decided not to go hunting on Wednesday and figured I’d spend it with my family. My dad got off work at noon on Wednesday so we all loaded up in the car and went to the Rio Mall in Hampshire County. Rio Mall is really a roadside junk store that we’ve been going to for as long as I can remember. They used to have really cool bags of toys in garbage bags. We called the bags “Rio Junk”, and we’d always buy several bags on every trip. The bags cost $2 each, and I remember many toys of my childhood came from bags of Rio Junk. Sadly, Rio Mall doesn’t sell bags of toys anymore, but they do have a pretty neat operation going on there. The port-a-potty alone is worth the trip!!! Whew, that is a story in and of itself!!!!



The farm on Thanksgiving Day. It was a clear, crisp day.

On Thanksgiving Day my Mom done what she does best…try to fatten us up! She started cooking at the break of day, and Dad and I went hunting for a few hours. When we got home in the mid-afternoon, Mom was just finishing up her annual feast. We had roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, green beans, sweet potatoes, stuffing, homemade rolls, gravy, cranberry sauce, and sauerkraut, which is a tradition carried over from my German ancestors. For dessert we had pumpkin pies, cherry pies, chocolate cakes, chocolate pies, and veritable gallons of homemade whipped cream. As Dad says, “You can never have too much whipped cream.” We ate until we were as full as ticks, and then ate some more. We just laid around the house for most of the day but around dark, Dad and I went out and split some wood. The exercise was really good to help settle all of that food…and to build up an appetite for round #2!

My brother had to go home on Friday so we decided to do a little Black Friday shopping, Burns style. We shopped at every Goodwill store between Pendleton County and Morgantown, which was I believe 7 stores. It was an all day event, and I was quite done with the whole escapade after the first stop! We got to Morgantown about 7pm, and then I toured the house that my brother just bought. Mom, Dad and I got home at about midnight!



I sat here and watched several deer walk past.

On Saturday I just laid around the house and talked to Mom. When Dad got home from work, we once again hit the wood pile and split some wood. I actually like splitting wood, there’s just something about looking at the color and grain of the wood that is so soothing. Plus, it gave Dad and I some time to catch up on times past, like how when I was a teenager Dad gave me the nickname of “Lightning”. This was because when splitting wood, I never hit in the same place twice!!! Well, in case anyone is wondering, “Lightning” was back in on the mountain last week, but I still managed to split a cord of wood, catch up with the happenings of the family, and to visit that land that I still call home.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Don't Forget To Grease Your Corners

Back when I was growing up on the mountain, there was a great fear of witches getting into people's barns at Halloween. If a witch got in your barn, they could injure your livestock or otherwise vex the animals. This may include killing an animal outright, or it could mean giving the livestock a disease or infecting a wound. There were reports of witched milk cows giving spoiled or bloody milk for weeks afterward. Pretty much anything was fair game for witches when it came to inflict misery on livestock. Aside from Hex signs and rotas-sator squares, many farmers took to providing added protection against this witchery.

The only way to remove a hex from livestock was to get a good witch to counter the spell, but this may include destroying the animal. I remember my Grandmaw Mary telling of a story about a milk cow that had been witched, and gave bloody milk. She said that the hex also was spread to other livestock, and the farmer was forced to consult a good witch about the problem. This good witches last name was Moats and he lived over around Franklin. Anyway, the first animal that was hexed was identified, and Mr. Moats instructed the cow to be destroyed by fire, and Granny said that he said a few "witch words" while the cow was being killed. The carcass was then burned, and Mr. Moats said whoever witched this animal would be known to the community because he or she would have burns all over their body, because he had put the spell back on them. Sure enough, a few days later, a man was seen in the community who was covered with burns all over his body. The man tried to say that his stove blew up on him, but everyone after that knew that he was an evil witch.

So you can see the importance of protecting your home, barn, livestock and family from the evil influences of witchery. To ward off this trouble, a ladder was placed against the barn's wall on the day of Halloween. This ladder was used to reach the highest reaches of a barn and a coarse brush would be used to liberally apply grease to every inch of every corner in the barn. This was because folklore dictated that a witch could only enter a barn by way of a corner. By greasing every corner of a barn, it was believed that when a witch would come flying in on a broomstick, they would be deflected when they would hit this grease, and thus would not be able to enter the barn to vex the animals.

So, if anyone out there has a barn, be sure to grease your corners to protect your livestock. You never can be too careful when it comes to witches bent on doing you harm.

For added protection at your home, lay a broom on the floor across every door to your home. A witch cannot cross a broom that is laid down, and if someone picks it up and tries to enter, you will immediately be able to identify the witch. Also, you could place a rotas-sator square in the highest point of your home for added protection.

And remember, not all witches are bad!!!!

---------------------------------
As an afterthought, perhaps some of you don't know what a rotas-sator square is, well here is a link to wikipedia with information and a photo of a rotas-sator square:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sator_Arepo_Tenet_Opera_Rotas

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Superstitions

Growing up on the mountain, superstitions played an important role in how we were raised. Some or most of these superstitions have been handed down for generations from my ancestors who came from the old country. I know some of them are from my German ancestors, but probably some of them came from my ancestors from Scotland as well. I remember us kids listened intently as we were told this and that, and how we’d better do these things or else some sort of misfortune would befall us. My grandmaw Mary was adamant in her belief in these old superstitions. In keeping with the season, here is a short list of superstitions that I remember about ghosts and death.

When two people of the same name live in a house, ghosts will stay away.

Never carry an axe or hoe into a house, it means death.

Ghosts hate new things. If you have a persistent ghost, hang something new over your door.

A baby born at midnight will have the power to see and talk to ghosts.

If a rooster crows after dark, it is a sure sign that death is in the neighborhood.

Death always travels in three’s—if a person dies in your community, there will soon be two more to follow.

A ghost will beat on the wall of a house if someone therein is about to die.

Ghosts enjoy hearing people sing and will gather from afar to listen.

Christmas Eve is a favorite time for ghosts to walk the Earth.

Wind chimes will call up the dead.

Horses and Pigs can see death and ghosts.

If a bird comes inside your house, it is a sign that death will soon befall the household.

If someone see’s a ghost, look over their left shoulder and you will be able to see that ghost too.

Never let a swing stop on its own. Stop it yourself or someone you care about will die.

After someone dies, their pictures begin to fade.

If a dog howls while looking at the ground, he senses death is very near.

If three people look in the same mirror at the same time, the youngest of the three will soon die.

Graveyards at night are peaceful places to visit at night if you are quiet. But if you talk, you will be haunted for a week.

Don’t walk on someone’s grave or else you will be haunted by their ghost.

Don’t pick up a broom that is laid over a doorway. If you do, it is a sign that you are a witch or that you have been witched.

Bury your hair after you cut it, if you don’t and the birds pick it up, you will have headaches for months afterward. You can also be witched if your hair falls into the wrong hands.

A Star Quilt on your bed will protect you from evil spirits.

Clocks in a house will stop at the exact moment of death of someone in that household. If clocks do not stop, you must stop them or else the spirit will remain in that house.

I’m sure there are many more of these superstitions that I am just not thinking of at the moment. Do any of you all out there know of any other superstitions? I’d love to hear them.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Snallygaster

Below is an essay written by my brother, Jason Burns, about the Snallygaster. I assisted Jason in researching this topic. I kept finding mention of the Snollygaster/Snallygaster/Snoligaster whenever I looked through old local news items in The Pendleton Times newspaper. Growing up, I'd always heard about the Snollygaster but never did pay much attention to it, so I kept telling Jason about these stories I was finding in the old newspapers. He took it upon himself to do alot of research and then he wrote the following essay on The Snallygaster.

My brother, Jason, is a member of the West Virginia Storytelling Guild who specializes in ghost stories, monsters and supernatural legends of West Virginia & Appalachia. He has collected & documented a ghost story from every county in WV, and has several dozen monsters from around the state as well. If anyone is interested, Jason is now booking speaking engagements/parties for 2009. In 2008, he was a finalist for the "Governor's Arts Award for Appalachian Folklore", given annually by the West Virginia Division of Culture and History. You can find out more about him on his website, West Virginia Spectral Heritage.

The Snallygaster by R. Jason Burns

The Snallygaster is a monstrous beast whose rampages were recorded in Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia starting in 1735. The reports of a bloodsucking dragon-like beast with wings, claws, tentacles, fur, horns, and a long reptilian tail continued into the mid 1970s. In addition, the Snallygaster had only one eye in the middle of its head and had a horrible sulfuric smell. A group of lumberjacks also claimed to have come upon the Snallygaster’s nest, which was perched on a high cliff and contained an egg “big enough to hatch a horse”. Often accompanied by its signature bloodcurdling roar, the beast attacked people, pets, and livestock in the aforementioned states. The Snallygaster’s rampage was so prolific and terrifying that it attracted the attention of President Theodore Roosevelt, who allegedly planned to kill and mount the beast for display in the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC.



The beast got its name from German immigrants who settled in the region. “Snallygaster” is a corruption of the German word “schnellgeiste” which means “quick spirit”. The Snallygaster evidently had many frightening attributes, which included its dragon wings, poison breath, toothy beak, tentacles, and its penchant for sucking blood. The monster is said to have been one of the reasons behind the “seven pointed stars” and hex signs that were painted on barns and houses in the area. Apparently these worked as magical charms that kept the Snallygaster away.

In Pendleton County, WV, the beast’s rampage lasted from 1935 to 1941. Its first appearance was reported in the Hopewell section of the Pendleton Times newspaper in March of 1935. Hopewell is a tiny community near the Bland Hills in the North Fork area of the Germany Valley, near a holler named Monkeytown. According to the newspaper article, the Snallygaster was terrorizing the family of Kennie Bland on March 1, 1935. Bland was “left high in the air” by the monster, presumably referring to Bland being treed by the beast.

Two months later the Snallygaster was again noticed in Hopewell. This time the beast reportedly roared and “snarled” on May 10, 1935. That day being Sunday, the locals stated that the beast was attempting to prey upon those who were less than pious. The Snallygaster also allegedly spewed forth a “poison vapor” wherever it went. However, it did not attack anyone that night, because all those who witnessed it stayed inside their homes until it departed.

Following these two occurrences, the Snallygaster was not seen in Hopewell for nearly six years. Presumably it had moved into another area of the country, probably terrorizing people in Maryland or Pennsylvania. However, the beast returned to the Hopewell community on St. Valentine’s Day, 1941. Apparently the beast had been spotted in the area prior to that report. “Old Dog Blue”, a hound that had been paralyzed through a previous battle with the Snallygaster, first noticed the beast in the area and set up a howling chorus to warn the neighborhood of its approach. The people of the town escaped to the safety of their homes, but not before they witnessed the Snallygaster’s large “fiery” eyes, large tail, and monstrous-sized teeth.

The beast’s last recorded appearance in the Hopewell community was recorded on July 11, 1941. Apparently it came upon the town rather quickly, surprising the populous and causing them to run for any safety they could find. The people were able to find shelter in homes and other places, and all of them survived except for Old Dog Blue, who was last seen trying to evade the Snallygaster.

The Snoligaster was not reported until June the next year. On June 29, 1945, the Pendleton Times reported “the howl of the dreadful Snoligaster” was heard in the Hopewell community again. The dogs of the area, hearing its scream, hid from the beast in any place they could. One dog was deaf, however, and was killed by the Snoligaster because he did not hear it. Some local women hid in their attic to get away from the Snoligaster, but one lady was so scared that she fell into the slop barrel. She was rescued by her husband and they sought safety together. Then suddenly the Snoligaster tale took a turn. It seemed to be breeding.

In April, 1946, a coon hunter in Doddridge County found what was thought to be a Snoligaster cub. The hunter dug it out of a hole in the ground after seeing his dog retreat from it. The animal, still living, was examined by a group that included two Salem College professors and a representative from the state Department of Wildlife and Fisheries. The Snallygaster cub was about the size of a half-grown rat, and it was colored light blue with a light yellow face. Its eyes were close together and near the end of the nose, its ears were attached low on its head near the jaw line, and it had cat-like claws. In addition, it was covered in a fine-textured fur. The group decided to raise the cub to see what it turned out to be, but whether or not they succeeded is unknown. Later that same month, the Pendleton Times reported that the towns of Hopewell and Monkeytown were in the process of installing electric lights, and when that occurred the Snoligaster would probably “wind his way into darker corners” in order to prey upon the area’s population. Whether it was the electric lights or not, the Snoligaster was not reported in the area news again.

Events related to the life of the Snallygaster continued, however. In the 1960s, the Pepsi Company paid tribute to the beast when it introduced a drink named “The Snallygaster”, which was composed of Mountain Dew and vanilla ice cream. The last event in the long, frightening history of the Snallygaster was in 1976, when the Washington Post funded an expedition to find the beast. Nothing was ever found – no eggs, tracks, or any other evidence. Despite this, the state of Maryland placed the Snallygaster on the Endangered Species list in 1982.

Bibliography:

Wikipedia Online. 2006 Edition.

The Pendleton Times, Franklin, WV. March 1, 1935; May 10, 1935; February 14, 1941; July 11, 1941; and April 5 & 12, 1946.

Timothy L. Cannon and Nancy F. Whitmore, Ghosts and Legends of Frederick County. Sept 1979.

Hooper, Anne B. (1974). Braddock Heights: A Glance Backward. Great Southern Printing Co. p. 71-72.

The Valley Register, Middletown, MD. February 12—March 5, 1909

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Riddle Me This

Okay, today I'm gonna try something new on the blog, and something I've seen work with fantastic results on the Granny Sue Blog. I'm going to have a contest among all the readers of this site who want to join in. These riddles come from the book, "German-American Folklore" edited by Mac E. Barrick. Mind you, some of these German riddles can be the obvious!

Just leave a comment with your answers to enter this amazing contest!! Prizes will be awarded!

1) What goes through a creek with six legs and gets only four of them wet?

2) What passes in front of the sun without casting a shadow?

3) What stands on one leg and has its heart in its head?

4) What is it? The more you eat, the more you have?

5) What is it? He who makes it does not reveal it; he who takes it does not recognize it, and he who recognizes it does not want it?

6) How much dirt is there in a hole that is a foot square and a foot deep?

7) Your mother had a child, which is neither your brother nor your sister. Who was it?

8) Where did Noah hit the first nail?

9) What kind of stones are found in the river?

10) What is blacker than a crow?

11) What has more feathers than a goose?

12) Why does a miller wear a white hat?

Whomever gets the most correct answers (or the most original) wins a nickel's worth of five dollar bills and a mention on this blog.

Answers will be revealed in 2 days.

Good luck.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

A Sunny Day in Autumn

Theodor Kramer, German Poet (1897-1958)
Give me to die some sunny day in autumn…



Give me to die some sunny day in autumn-
already raw and sharp - when frosty lines
and breezes sweep round house and barn that fraught'em
with smells of dying weeds and rotting vines.



Let me inhale the scent of shells decaying
that fall from nuts, and let me watch the plow
uproot and bury fraying stubbles swaying
in fat soil furrows to the final bow.



For then I might believe that such law's ending-
as rots the grape draff and thereby
renews the soil - would grant me equal standing:
It will ensure not all of me will die.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The Erl-King

This is one of my very favorite poems. I can just imagine my German ancestors living in fear of the Erl-king. What better way to begin October than with a German folktale/song/poem, The Erl-King?




Der Elrkonig (The Erl-king) by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Who's riding so late through th' endless wild?
The father 't is with his infant child;
He thinks the boy 's well off in his arm,
He grasps him tightly, he keeps him warm.

My son, say why are you hiding your face ?
Oh father, the Erlking 's coming apace,
The Erlking 's here with his train and crown!
My son, the fog moves up and down.

Be good, my child, come, go with me!
I know nice games, will play them with thee,
And flowers thou 'It find near by where I live,
pretty dress my mother will give.

Dear father, oh father, and do you not hear
What th' Erlking whispers so close to my ear?
Be quiet, do be quiet, my son,
Through leaves the wind is rustling anon.

Do come, my darling, oh come with me!
Good care my daughters will take of thee,
My daughters will dance about thee in a ring,
Will rock thee to sleep and will prettily sing.

Dear father, oh father, and do you not see
The Erlking's daughters so near to me?
My son, my son, no one 's in our way,
The willows are looking unusually gray.

I love thee, thy beauty I covet and choose,
Be willing, my darling, or force I shall use!
Dear father, oh father, he seizes my arm!
The Erlking, father, has done me harm.

The father shudders, he darts through the wild;
With agony fill him the groans of his child.
He reached his farm with fear and dread;
The infant son in his arms was dead.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Old Fon


Germany Valley view from Rt. 33 North Mountain. My family were the original settlers of Germany Valley.

You will probably recollect me talking about the North Mountain Rocks in a recent post. This got me to thinkin’ of another story concerning the Rocks, and it involves a creature known as the goat man My Grandmaw Mary told us tales of the goat man who was said to live up on rock cliffs, she said the goat man would lure children up to the rocks by humming a song of enchantment. When the children got up to the steepest cliffs, the goat man would shove them off. Grandmaw said he had the lower body of a goat but walked upright like a man and he had curly horns on his head. He was certainly a creature not to be trifled with. His name was Old Fon.

A view of North Moutain Rocks, looks like prime Fon habitat.

Grandmaw Mary said when she was a girl that she had heard the music made by the goat man, she said it sounded real pretty. She immediately recognized from tales she had heard what it was and from whom it was coming from so she said she put her hands over her ears and ran home. Grandmaw Mary said her mother called all the kids into the house and wouldn’t let them outside for the rest of the day. Grandmaw said that the family dog, which wasn’t afraid of anything, laid outside the front door and whined, so whatever was out there, the old dog was afraid of.

Another view of North Mountain Rocks, home of Old Fon!

Grandmaw Mary said that once you were under the spell of the goat man, the only way to get away from him was to call him by his name and tell him to his face, “Leave me alone, Old Fon.” Upon hearing that, the goat man would run screaming into a cave in the cliffs and leave you alone.

I now know that many of the tales and legends of my childhood are of German origin and were brought this country by my ancestors. My brother, who is a buff for supernatural beings and spirits, told me that the Old Fon that Grandmaw told us about as kids is actually a fairly well known mythological creature that is known as “Faun” or "Pan".


Old Fon lives here.

Such tales made for lively times growing up on the mountain, nothing is more fun for a child than to know that a little danger & magic exists in your world.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Old House in the Woods

Last weekend, while in for the 4th of July, a few of the family went berry picking in an area we called the flats. To tell you how flat it is, you have to walk down into this place, and back up out of this place, it is far from flat, but when compared to the surrounding hillsides, it is the flattest part of the land.


While walking down an old country road with huge oak tree's and berry briers that surrounded to road on both sides, we decided to go on down where the old house used to stand. As we walked among the ancient oaks, I marvelled at their size and beauty, and wondered how they had survived getting timbered back in the early 1900's when much of Pendleton County was cut over. You can't tell it from the below photo, but these tree's are so large that it'd take at least a half-dozen men to reach around them.


After going through what appeared to be an old forest remnant, the woods opened up into meadows interspersed with a few trees. On one side you had a dark and foreboding looking cedar grove, and the other is wide open fields. In between these two extreme's sits what is left of an old house.




This old house used to have the most beautiful old-timey rose bushes around it, there were pink ones, red ones, yellow ones and white ones. They smelled so good when they were all blooming. I remember that we used to make a trip down to this old house every year when the roses were blooming.

There used to be a hand pump on the porch of this old house when I was little, and we'd all pump it until water flowed from the earth, it was a sight to see for us. We lived further up on the mountain and the water table was down too far for us to use hand pumps where we lived. Part of the old pump is still there today although it doesn't work anymore.

Over the door of this little cottage hangs an open end up horseshoe, reputed to ward off evil spirits, and since it hangs open end up, prosperity would collect at this house. These superstitions are remnants of our German heritage brought over by our ancestors who settled Germany Valley in the early 1700's. We still have many of the old customs, but we've lost even more. It makes me sad to think of how culturally disadvantaged my children will be not to hear these stories and see the things that I've seen in my lifetime. I'll try my best to tell them what I know but I've forgotten alot of it. Then on the heels of these melancholic thoughts is the realization that my parents and grandparents must have felt the same way as I do now when they thought of these very things. Life is definately a circle, I just wish now that I had realized that earlier in life and really listened to my granny and granddaddy when they told me stuff. Live and learn they always said, and a bought lesson ain't soon forgot.

Out from the little cottage is what I take to be the old shed, probably it housed the chickens and such. It is in a bad state of disrepair now but still would be the envy of any modern country garden. The wildflowers grow around it now as they must have 100 years ago. That's makes me think of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, which among other things says,


"To everything there is a season,
a time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;"

That put's in all in perspective doesn't it?
Below is the old shed that I was talking about.



It was good to be out in nature again and to see places that I hadn't seen in a few years. It was good to reminisce about times past and to spend a few precious moments with my family. It was good to be home!
I look forward to the time when I can do that again.