Friday, 22 March 2019

The White Lady

A very long time ago in a small town called Tann, in the Rhön Mountains, there once lived a handsome young knight; Eberhard von der Tann. He lived in a large castle which he shared fairly with his brothers, Christoph and Alexander. They were all Knights of the realm and were renown in their small kingdom for being fair and just. 

Eberhard was not only fair and just but also quite handsome. Many a farmer’s daughter and all of the maidens in the town were quite besotted with the thought of marrying such a handsome knight who was a prince in his own right.

One such maiden was Elsbeth, a servant girl who lived and worked in the castle in service to Sir Eberhard. Every day she would pine for him dreamily as she watched him ride off on his trusty steed with his brothers to the Abbey in Fulda on the kingdom’s business. 

“Is he not the most handsome man in the entire kingdom?” she sighed dreamily as she watched Eberhard gallop away one fine spring morning. 

“He is going to be the angriest man in the kingdom if you don’t get these beds made up, and the floors swept clean by the time he returns!” warned Maria, who was the castle housekeeper and in charge of the servants. 

Elsbeth sighed again. She hated drudgery and fancied herself, once again, as mistress of this castle and queen of all she surveyed. ‘Oh, what sort of crown would I wear? And I shall wear nothing but the finest silk dresses, and I will nag Maria all day long for not working fast enough. And I would surely be the favourite of Her Majesty, the Holy Roman Empress.’

“Elsbeth!” Maria called again, “Go and get the fresh bed linens, before I beat you, you lazy good-for-nothing girl!”

Elsbeth’s dreams vanished at the thought of Maria’s switch on her backside. It wouldn’t be the first time. ‘There must be something I can do to win Sir Eberhard’s hand’, she thought wistfully as she trudged down the stairs to fetch the broom and a pile of fresh bed linens.  


Not long afterwards, Elsbeth was sent to clean the kitchen hearth where she heard the kitchen maids gossiping about how to catch a fair man. Her ears pricked up, holding her breath and eager for any bit of wisdom how she could win Eberhard’s heart.

“Don’t eavesdrop, Elsbeth!” one of the maids scolded. 

“Please! I want to know how I could catch a fair man”, she implored. 

“We won’t tell you!” said the one called Hedwig. 

“But why ever not?” whined Elsbeth, close to tears. 

“Because it’s wicked!” said the other called Dagmar. 

“Wicked? How could true love be wicked?”

“Because you have to use magic” whispered Hedwig.

Elsbeth’s eyes widened in horror. “Magic? Surely you aren’t a…” She dare not say it out loud. 

“Witch? No, silly. We just use a little old kitchen magic my grandmother taught me. But it’s not for the likes of you. So we’re not sharing our secrets. You’ll only go tell Maria and then she’ll beat us and she might even tell the Priest. We’re not getting into trouble on account of you!” Hedwig snapped.

Witchcraft was very wicked, but the longer Elsbeth thought about it, the less wicked it seemed. She had done everything she could think of to try and make Sir Eberhard notice her, but he continued to treat her as if she were invisible. She had to do something to melt the ice in his heart. 

“Please,” she whispered conspiratively, “I wish to know. I must know. Show me how to capture the heart of a fair man.”

“Who are you in love with, Elsbeth?” Dagmar cackled with laughter.

Elsbeth turned bright red but said nothing.

“Cat got your tongue?” teased Hedwig, and both kitchen maids fell into a fit of laughter. 

Elsbeth burst into tears. “Please! I will do anything to catch the heart of the fair man I do so love!” 

The kitchen maids stopped laughing and grew thoughtful. Hedwig eyed Dagmar speculatively then took a long look at Elsbeth. 

“Anything?” she asked.

“Yes! For the heart of my true love, I would do anything.” 

In truth, it was no secret who Elsbeth pined for. The entire staff in the castle made great fun of Elsbeth’s unrequited love for her master, and many suspected that even Sir Eberhard knew about it as well, though he made no mention of it, ever. No one had ever dared tell Elsbeth how foolish she was, for fear of killing the little mirth they enjoyed in their daily drudgery. 

“Well…” Hedwig smiled wickedly, “There is perhaps something you could do.”

“What? Please tell me! Is there a spell to be cast, or what must I do?” she said eagerly.

“No… no… it’s much too daring.” Dagmar shook her head sadly. 

“She’s right”, concurred Hedwig. “You couldn’t possibly go through with it.” 

With an exasperated cry, Elsbeth begged them, “You simply must tell me!”

“Well if you insist”, said Hedwig contritely.

“And it’ll be on your own head”, added Dagmar. 

“Yes? Yes? What is it?” 

“You must bring something of pure gold from your true love for us to complete the spell.” 

Elsbeth frowned. Pure gold? Her mind raced, trying to think what Sir Eberhard had that was made of pure gold. His coin purse was full of copper and silver coins. He never wore his chain of office. In fact, Elsbeth had no idea where he kept it, and for all Elsbeth knew it might not even be made of pure gold. She had always cleaned all of his cupboards, desk and trunks. She knew all his possessions in his chambers by heart. Where in the world was she going to find something to fulfil the spell? 

Dagmar and Hedwig laughed their bellies full at Elsbeth’s blank stare. “The Red Tower silly!” Dagmar blurted out when she stopped laughing. 

“What?” Elsbeth blinked.

Dagmar groaned. “Oh, Elsbeth, you silly girl! Everyone knows you’re in love with Sir Eberhard!”

Elsbeth turned bright red again. 

“It’s perfectly alright”, cooed Hedwig. “You want to win Sir Eberhard’s heart, and we want… er… we need something of pure gold.” 

“For the spell, of course!” added Dagmar. 

“Yes, but…” 

“What? Too much of a coward, Elsbeth?” chided Dagmar.

“No, it’s just he hasn’t got anything made of pure gold”, Elsbeth mumbled. 

“Blessed Mary! She really is that-“giggled Dagmar.

“Shut up!” snapped Hedwig.

She gathered up Elsbeth’s hand and patted it. “Look, lovey. Up in the Red Tower, just under the roof. That’s where he keeps all his loot. You just pinch the keys from Maria when she goes off to church next Sunday, and sneak up there. You’ll find something that’ll do the trick. Bring it us and we’ll cast the spell, and in no time, you’ll be lording over us like you was born for it all your life.”  



Elsbeth’s widened in horror. “But I can’t do that!” 

Dagmar snorted a laugh. “Why not? Cause you’ll get caught?”

“No, I won’t get caught. It’s the cats!” 

“So? You’re afraid of a couple of little pussy cats?” Dagmar laughed again.

“It’s not just a few. Maria says that there’s a whole army of cats up there guarding the treasure. She said they’re hardly given anything to eat so that if anyone dares go near the Red Tower, they will descend upon you and devour you.”

Dagmar and Hedwig fell into another fit of laughter. “You really are a silly girl! Maria tells that story to every new servant to keep them from poking their noses about in the Red Tower. There are a few cats up there, that’s all. They’ve never done anything to anyone.” 

“Yes, but they’re cats! Ugh! Horrid, nasty creatures! And everyone knows they are in league with the devil!” 

Hedwig snorted, “Would you rather have to fend off rats? The cats are only there to keep the rats away. Now, you’re not going to lose courage because of a few little kitty cats, are you?”

“Meow!” mocked Dagmar. 

“How on earth am I going to keep all those horrid cats away from me?” Elsbeth shuddered at the thought of cats with their lizard-like eyes as well as their sharp claws and teeth, all them just waiting to jump out at her from nowhere and bite her to death.

Dagmar mustered Elsbeth critically from head to toe. “I’d say it’d take a pound.”

“A pound of what?”

“Liver.”
 
Elsbeth clutched her belly defensively and took a step back from Dagmar.

Dagmar laughed again. “Not yours, silly! We’ll give you some calf liver. Take it up and feed the cats on Sunday. While they’re eating, look for something nice in gold. A coin or some trinket or something. Or maybe two. Yes, two pieces of pure gold would work much better than just one piece.”  

Elsbeth was still fretting about the monstrous horde of vicious cats. 

“Think about it, Elsbeth. True love. You and Sir Eberhard. Married at last.” Hedwig’s smile was pure wickedness. 

“I’ll think about it”, she said morosely. “I must take these ashes out now, lest Maria become angry and beat me again.” And off she went.

Dagmar looked at Hedwig. “Do you think she’ll go through with it?”

“Of course she will. She’s besotted with the master, and there has never been a sillier girl in service here. We’ll have a merry tale to tell everyone ‘til Michaelmas.” 

When Sunday came Elsbeth rose at first light and went about her duties. The lesser servants didn’t attend church on Sundays. There were too many duties in the castle. The Priest always came to the castle in the afternoon after Church mass to perform a servant’s mass. But Maria, being the Housekeeper, had been granted the privilege of attending church on Sunday morning. Elsbeth nervously hummed a merry tune as she brought Maria fresh clothing to don for church services.

“Elsbeth! Be silent! It’s the Sabbath. No silly singing today.” 

“Yes, Maria.” She laid Maria’s clothing out, then surreptitiously snatched Maria’s huge ring of keys, quickly hiding them in the folds of her apron.

Maria didn’t notice as she was busy pouring water into a basin. Elsbeth wished her a good day and quickly left the room. She dashed to the kitchen to look for Dagmar and Hedwig. Both kitchen maids were 
up to their ears in work, preparing for the Sunday dinner. 

“Not now! Come back before mass!” hissed Hedwig. And she shooed Elsbeth away. 

Elsbeth stared as she watched Eberhard, Christoph and Alexander stride off to church in all of the Sunday splendour. ‘Soon, my love’, she thought, ‘Soon we will stride together to church.’ 

A while later, the church mass was finished, and they returned, laughing and joking. They were in high spirits, as their stable boys awaited them with steeds. Today they were going to enjoy a fine Sunday ride out into the woods. Elsbeth sighed forlornly watching her fine knight ride off 
with his brothers to the forest.  
Shortly after, the priest appeared walking down the lane to the castle, together with Maria. Elsbeth gasped and fled for the kitchen, her feet taking her at nearly a dead run. 

“Hedwig! Where is the bait for the cats? The priest is nigh and Maria is with him. It won’t be long before she misses her keys!” 

“Hold your horses!” She rummaged in a clay pot and produced a piece of dripping raw liver. Elsbeth made a face, gingerly taking the piece of raw liver from the pot and wrapping it in a cloth. She turned on her heel, determined to fly up to the top of the Red Tower.

“Wait!” admonished Dagmar.

“What? I have no time!” Elsbeth wailed. 

Dagmar dipped her fingers into the clay pot. With juice-covered fingers, she smeared Elsbeth’s arms with putrid liver juice. 


“What on earth are doing to me?” she exclaimed in shock.

“You want the cats to like you, don’t you lovey?”

 “No! I abhor the horrid beasts and I certainly don’t want them to devour me, which they will surely do once they smell this… ugh… all over me.” 

“No. They’ll love it. They’ll lick it right off you. You’ll be best friends for life… or death… whatever they decide.” Dagmar laughed wickedly. 

“I must go now! The priest is coming with Maria.”

Elsbeth dashed down the hall, barely avoiding running into the priest and Maria. She fumbled nervously with the keys, jangling and trying each one. 

“Oh, blessed Virgin! Which one is it? How can anyone have so many keys?” she wailed. 

At last, she found the right key. She opened the door to the tower, to find a pair of cats waiting for her. 

“Shoo! Shoo!” she hissed. But the cats had already scented the liver. She scrambled by them, running up the stairs. 

On the next floor, there were a half dozen cats, all them meowing, and dodging her underfoot. “Shoo! Shoo! The devil take the lot of you!”

But the cats were not about to be deprived their treat and continued to follow her, Up and up, the spiral staircase wound around all the way up four floors, and each step of the way, more and more cats continued to follow her. When she reached the top, there was at least four score of them, all whining, wailing and begging for that one piece of liver. They tried to climb up her skirts to get to the liver, some meandering endless between her legs, others scratching on the door to the tower roof chamber. In the door, a small piece had been sawn away so that the cats could come and go in and out of the room as they pleased. 

She fumbled again with the keys. The more she jangled the keys the louder the mewing and begging cries of the cats became. One cat sprang upon her back, clawing its way towards her apron. She cried, pushing it off. “Shoo! To the devil with you! You horrid beasts!” 

At least she opened the door, to find a room full of odd furniture, chests and boxes and, of course, more cats. They all were mewing like a chorus of hungry babies. Cats perched on the edge of tables began to lick the liver juice from her arms, purring loudly with approval. 

In a panic, she threw the package of liver in the midst of them, and just like Dagmar promised, they instantly forgot about her, and descended on the meat hissing and growling over the rare treat. 

Free from their attention at last, she quickly began to search for something of pure gold. The chests were locked. Although the ring of keys was enormous, and she tried all of them as quickly as she could, not a single key could open any of the chests. Tears welled up in her eyes. She turned to the large pile of wooden boxes and began to open one after the other. There were many rare and wondrous things in them; each more wondrous than the next, but not a single gold coin or trinket amongst them. 

At last, she found a precious looking box covered in dust. Miraculously it wasn’t locked. Elsbeth clapped up the lid. When she looked inside, her breath caught. The box was lined in soft plush green velvet, and open a satin cushion inside she found the most beautiful golden brooch she’d ever laid eyes upon. 
Carefully she fingered it. It was heavy to the touch, with filigree edging and studded with small jewels and pearls. ‘Yes! This was the wondrous jewel that would work the magic and make Sir Eberhard her true love.’ She snatched the brooch out of the box, slammed it shut and dashed out of the room, only taking time to lock the door again. As soon as she heard the bolt click into place, she ran down the steps, taking them two at a time. 

The cats, having fought over the last remaining morsels of liver, had lost all interest in Elsbeth, but she didn’t know that. Fearing for her life, she made a mad dash for the final door at the bottom of the stairwell. Having safely locked the door to the Red Tower, she crossed herself thrice and said a prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary for saving her from being devoured by cats. 

Now she must hurry to return the key ring to Maria’s chamber before it was missed, and there was no time to lose. The castle chapel bell was ringing, marking time for the servant’s mass. 

Elsbeth was the last in the castle chapel. “Elsbeth! Late as usual! Say a prayer for forgiveness, silly girl”, Maria admonished her. 

‘Oh I have’ she thought. ‘But now I will say a prayer for my beloved who will surely come to me soon.’ At last Elsbeth smiled. 

“Blessed Virgin Mary!” exclaimed Hedwig the very next morning when Elsbeth presented her trophy to trade for the long-desired spell to cast over her beloved. “You’ve pinched Lady Margaretha’s brooch! Bless her soul. I can’t believe you pinched a dead woman’s jewellery! There will be hell to pay now! What happened Elsbeth? You were only supposed to pinch a gold coin or two. Not the family jewels!” 

Indeed, the brooch had once belonged to Eberhard’s poor dead mother and been bequeathed to him. But Elsbeth didn’t know this as she hadn’t been in service long enough to have known it had once belonged to her beloved’s dear mother. 

“Well, it’s gold, isn’t it? Get on with it, cast the spell and be done with it!” demanded Elsbeth. 

“Are you mad? Go put it back! If the master finds out you took it, surely you’ll be hanged! We might all get hanged, or burned.” Hedwig wailed. “You’ve doomed us all with your silliness, you stupid girl!”

“Shut up, Hedwig!” Dagmar instructed. “Look, go pinch Maria’s keys again and put it back, now!”

“How am I going to do that? You know very well she never takes the keys from her apron until she goes to sleep!”

“Well, you better think of a way and quick, before Sir Eberhard finds out what you’ve done and punishes the lot of us.”

“But why don’t you just cast the spell, and he’ll fall in love with me, and he’ll never be the wiser”, insisted Elsbeth. She had no intention of forsaking her beloved or facing those horrid cats again.

 “I’m not doing it! That bloody thing is cursed”, Dagmar snapped stubbornly.

Elsbeth stared at the brooch suspiciously.

“Everyone knows how his poor ol’ mum died of the flux. She was wearing it when she died. That jewel is cursed, I tell you! You’re the only one who doesn’t know it”, Hedwig explained.

“Then just tell me the spell. I will do it myself. If you haven’t the courage to help, let me myself.”

“Put it back! We only told you to do it, because we thought it would be great fun to see if you could pinch a pair of gold coins for us. We’re not bloody witches.”

Oh, if only Elspeth had listened. But she didn’t, foolish girl that she was. She was too determined to have Eberhard, and too frightened of the cats to do the proper thing. So, she kept it for herself, concealed in the folds of her clothing, and only unwrapping it at night where she stroked the brooch and cooed at it as if it were her beloved.

Indeed, it was a cursed piece of jewellery for Elsbeth, because a short while later, Sir Eberhard became engaged to marry Anna Maria, the daughter of Sir Hermann Schenk zu Schweinsberg.

Elsbeth could neither see nor read the elaborate betrothal letter nailed to the church door since she was never able to leave the castle very long. But the entire castle was buzzing with the happy news. Everyone was joyful over the good tidings – everyone save Elsbeth, who cried in her chamber long silent tears at night. Time was running out and Elsbeth was afraid she might never marry her dearest. Perhaps she would try to find an old hag who would say the spell for her out in the mountains.

The next day all of the servants were called by Sir Eberhard to an assembly in the castle courtyard. Elsbeth was found staring out the window pining for Sir Eberhard as he marched impatiently to and fro across the courtyard.

“Elsbeth! Get your lazy self out into the courtyard at once! Sir Eberhard has requested to see all of the servants.”

‘Oh!’ she thought. ‘Perhaps he has finally noticed me!’ She hurried down the courtyard with the other servants, secretively clutching the brooch in her hand.

‘How strange!’ thought Elsbeth. ‘What are all these horrid cats doing in the courtyard?’ It seems that Sir Eberhard had let all of the cats out of the Red Tower to meander about. They seemed to follow him, too, winding about his legs and mewing. ‘Well, my beloved is a brave knight’, Elsbeth thought, hoping the beasts would not come anywhere near her. She was very frightened because it seems like all the cats in the entire town were prancing about in the castle’s courtyard.

“It has come to my attention that we have a thief amongst us”, announced Sir Eberhard. Shocked gasps murmured amongst the servants. Elsbeth clasped the brooch harder as her hands disappeared behind her back.

“The thief has stolen my dear mother’s brooch. It is a family heirloom I wish to give to my betrothed. I have called you here to ask the thief to give it back to its rightful owner. In return you will only be beaten; not dismissed or hanged.”

His words were met with silence. “No one?” he asked. Sir Eberhard’s cold blue eyes stared at all of his servants. Elsbeth lowered her gaze, hoping her blush would go unnoticed.

“Very well then. Since the thief has no intention of revealing himself, I will reward the person who can tell me who the thief was with this bag of coins”, he continued to hold up a leather bag full of coins.

Dagmar was about to speak when she got a sharp jab in the ribs from Hedwig. “Don’t!” hissed Hedwig, “They’ll burn us for witchcraft.”

“You! Kitchen maid! Have you something to say?” he demanded from Hedwig.

“No, master. I work in the kitchen. How could I come by your brooch?”

“And you?” he asked Dagmar.

“No, milord. I too work in the kitchen. We hardly ever leave it.”

Elsbeth clutched the brooch so tightly her fingers were turning white. She whispered a prayer to the Virgin Mary. Little did she know, but the slender golden chain attached to the brooch slipped through her gripping fingers to dangle behind her back, glistening in the sunlight.

Behind Elsbeth a cat spied the slender chain, dangling from her hand, the end whipping to and fro. The small white cat wiggled itself into a pouncing crouch and sprang claws stretched to catch the enticing chain.

Elsbeth shrieked with the cat pounced upon her from behind. “Get away! Get away! You horrid creature!” she tried to flog the cat with the slender chain, driving the poor cat away in such a fright. She was so concentrated on driving away the cat that she didn’t notice Sir Eberhard until a strong gloved grip tightened around her upheld arm holding the brooch.

“So! We have our little thief!” he thundered and tried to wrest the chain from her hands.

“No! No! My lord! I… I…” Elsbeth wailed and cried.

“Silence!” he yelled and struck her across the cheek. “You will be hanged for this! I gave you the opportunity to escape it, but you failed to show your ruefulness.”

He jerked the chain from her hand, but Elsbeth was holding the brooch so tightly that the chain broke. Sir Eberhard let her go for a moment to pick up the chain from the dust. At that very moment, Elsbeth picked up her skirts and ran.

“Guards! Follow her, and bring her back. A thief who does not rue what they have done must hang.”

“Told you it was cursed”, mumbled Dagmar to Hedwig.

“Shut up!” Hedwig snapped.

Elsbeth ran like the devil after her very own soul, out of the castle, through the town, out the gate, and on out into the forest, up and up to hide in the thick of the forest on Engelsberg Mountain.

‘Where should I hide?’ she thought with great fear. ‘They will look for me everywhere.’

She ran until she was out of breath. Slowing down she found a small nearby stream to sip some water from. In the distance, she could hear a dog barking.

Fearing Sir Eberhard had set the hounds upon her, she gathered her skirts again and turned to run, falling directly into the arms of a shepherd.

“Ho there, fair maid! Where are you off to in such haste?”

“Uh…uh… um… my… father is going to beat me, and I am afraid”, she stammered a lie together.

“Beat a fair maid like you? But whatever for?” chuckled the shepherd.

“Um… I… um… I hit his cat”, and with that, she ran off.

“Beware, fair maid. Beware of the sunken village on top of the Engelsberg. There are evil spirits about there, and the Grey Man is said to haunt it. No one ever goes there and comes out alive.”

But that was exactly where Elsbeth went. The village was nothing more than a pile of stones. The townspeople said it was because the Grey Man, a demon called Thaiden, had cursed it for people becoming Christians. They say he kept all of his stolen souls in the sunken village and that you could hear them sobbing tears at night from their graves. Elsbeth didn’t fear ghosts half as much as the hangman’s noose at the moment, so she hid for the night amongst the rubble. As the sun went down and the moon came out, Elsbeth cried herself to sleep. Now she would never be united with her beloved. He was betrothed to another and going to have her hanged for stealing his mother’s brooch, and there was no old hag in sight to say a spell to change everything.

Down the mountain, she could hear the sounds of the townspeople celebrating Sir Eberhard’s betrothal and the fest of Whitsuntide. All of the crofter farmers would be celebrating their week of no working the land, and the whole town would make merry for the week. She fingered the brooch again, and then in a fit of anger threw it away in the rubble of the village ruins.

Sadly she decided she would return to her village, Seeleshof, where her father was crofter. Since her mother died last winter, she was sure he would welcome his daughter to care for their home.

And so it came that Sir Eberhard was wed. The seasons passed, and no one searched further for Elsbeth. But Elsbeth did not live a happy life, for the news of her shame travelled to the farthest reaches of the kingdom, though no one wanted to see her hang.

“I’d best marry you to a farrier or a tinker, worthless girl”, her father said. “No God-fearing crofter will have a thief living under their roof.”

Elsbeth’s sadness grew, until one day, the shepherd she’d met on her escape to Engelsberg Mountain drove his herd into Seeleshof. For the price of a ewe, her father let him water his flock and graze his fields for a few days.

“For another ewe, you can have my daughter”, he joked.

“Beware, Crofter. I may take you up on your offer”, the shepherd, who was called Martin, said.

Little did Elsbeth realize it, but Martin had fallen in love with her on the day she’d run into his arms. He had thought of little more than her since then. Now, at last, he knew where she lived.

He stayed the whole winter, selling much of his wool there in Seeleshof, and when springtime came, he asked Elsbeth to marry him.

Elsbeth couldn’t believe her luck. But then thought the only reason that Martin would marry her, is because he didn’t know of her shame. She dreaded telling him, for fear he would scorn her and turn her away. Perhaps she would tell him after they were married.

There was no church or chapel in Seeleshof, which meant that Elsbeth and Martin would have to climb over Habel Mountain to get to the church in the town of Tann on the other side. Of course, there would be no great bridal possession, as the crofters could care less that a thief would marry a lowly shepherd.

On the day of the marriage, Elsbeth had donned a new dress of pure sun-bleached white linen and gauze. Martin gave her his wedding present; a small trinket he had found in the marshy highlands of Engelsberg Mountain.

Elsbeth’s eyes nearly popped out of her head in surprise. Lady Margaretha’s brooch. How in the world did he find that? She laughed softly.

“What is it, my love?” Martin asked.

“Oh, it’s just that something like this was destined for me to find the man of my dreams.” She kissed him upon the cheek.

He fixed the brooch upon her dress with a clasp. “Perfect. Come now, my love. The priest won’t wait for us all day.”

And they made their way up the Habel Mountain. Now, the Habel Mountain was just as a foreboding place as Engelsberg Mountain was, with its thick blackthorn and hawthorn hedges. It was also very easy to go astray in the dense forest. But Martin, being a shepherd, knew the way.

“Hurry, my love. We must take this path. It will be quicker.”

The quick path was also a very muddy path, which didn’t please Elsbeth at all. She slipped in the mud and soiled her beautiful wedding dress.

“Oh, Martin!” she began to cry. “I cannot be wed in the church looking like this.”

“Come along my love. There is a bog pond nearby. You can wash there.”

 Sure enough, on the east side of the Habel Mountain, there was a small bog pond. Carefully she waded to the edge of the pond and began to wash the mud from her dress.

In a moment of carelessness, however, the brooch clasp loosened and the brooch fell into the pond.

“Oh, my brooch!” Elsbeth cried out. She leaned over putting her hands in the murky depths of the pond, desperately grasping for her brooch. Over and over she groped for the brooch, paying little attention to how far over she’d leaned into the pond.

“Elsbeth have a care! The bog is dangerous!”

At that moment, she slipped in the pond, much like her brooch had, sliding down the slick mud. Falling backwards, she hit her head on a stone. And then Elsbeth was dead. She’d broken her neck, as surely as if the hangman had done it himself.

Martin sobbed tears for his bride he so cherished, crusing the world for being so cruel to breask his poor heart, but that did not bring her back. When all of his tears had dried, he carried her to the church in Tann and begged the priest to marry them before he laid her to rest in her grave. The priest scolded him but did help him find a potter to dig a grave for her.

Martin sold all of his sheep to afford a gravestone and brought his bride flowers every day. Every day when he came to her gravesite he noticed something very strange. There was always a clowder of cats sitting on her grave. He always shooed them away, but they always returned, day after day.

“She’s cursed”, said the potter one day while he watched Martin chase the cats off.

“She isn’t cursed. She’s my bride and she buried in hallowed ground.”

“Of course, she’s cursed. Didn’t they tell you she’s a thief? Stole Sir Eberhard’s family jewels, she did. That’s why the cats come. They’re cursed too.”

Martin cried again, feeling betrayed now twice by his bride, and never returned to her grave again.

A few months later, it was All Souls Night. The wind was bitter cold, promising early snow. But late that night, the guards could have sworn they heard a woman wailing and the rattling of a large ring of keys. 

In the morning, on All Saints Day, the castle was inspected. The only thing strange they could find were cat claw scratches on the door to the Red Tower.

That night, and every night afterwards the people in the castle all heard the same thing. A woman wailing and a ring of keys rattling. And each day, the Red Tower door looked like it had been clawed by hundreds of cats.

Anna Maria, now known as Lady von der Tann, begged Eberhard to ban all of the cats out of the castle. To please his wife, he did this without question, but that didn’t stop the door from being clawed countless times again. It wasn’t until one winter night that the wailing and the key rattling robbed him of his sleep that demon manifested itself.

Sir Eberhard ran out into his courtyard in the dead of night in his nightshirt, sword and torch in hand. His face went ashen he saw the ghost of Elsbeth followed by at least a hundred ghosts of cats.

“My true love...” she wailed. 

“The thief-maid! Cursed you are, and cursed you shall remain until you return what is rightfully mine, as God be my witness! So begone with you until you return what is mine!” he thundered in anger and plunged his sword into her ghost. She vanished, her clowder of cats wisping away like smoke in the night.  

Every night she haunted the castle. Sir Eberhard was having no more of it. He ordered all the cats to be drowned, killed or otherwise expelled to from the village, and to have Elsbeth dug up from her grave and burned on the hangman’s hill.

The good people of Tann were very frightened of ghosts and did as he commanded. They burned what was left of her body, together with whatever cat corpses they could find. When the ashes had grown cold they tossed them to the in a field down the hill from the hangman’s hill.

For centuries this hollow between Tann and the hangman’s hill was known as the cat’s hollow, as she was often seen there. Sometimes there; sometimes in the castle and sometimes at what remained of the sunken village on the Engelberg Mountain at the Whitsuntide. They say she is still looking for the brooch that cursed her fate, and she will never rest until she returns it to its rightful place in the Red Tower in the castle in Tann.

They say she still wails when the October wind blows about the castle in Tann and the cats have hence returned to the castle because she still searches for that accursed brooch to break her curse in the Rhön Mountains. 


The End