Lord of the Mountains: the Legend of Rübezahl/Krkonoš
One of the most storied areas in the Czech Republic are the Krkonoše Mountains, today forming part of the border with Poland. This mountain range holds the highest peak in the country, Sněžka, which roughly translates to “snowy top.” Before World War II, much of this area’s population was German, and they named the range the Riesengebirge - the “Giant Mountains.” Both the Czech and German names point to the legends associated with this place: Krkonoš is the Czech name for the famous local mountain spirit, also known by his German moniker Rübezahl... who sometimes takes the form of a giant.
The Krkonoše Mountains
Image | Ben Curtis
Rübezahl was fabled as the “prince of the gnomes,” with an enormous underground realm that mortals rarely glimpsed. Many legends tell of his elemental power, his strange, moody temperament, his pride, and his sometimes friendly and wise, sometimes cruel and silly attitudes towards humans. Woe betide the person heading into the mountains who didn’t respect Rübezahl’s rules—in fact, the people of the region even feared to speak his name out loud so as not to draw unwanted attention to themselves.
Depictions of Rübezahl
Images | Moritz von Schwind; Martin Helwig; Schongerfilm GmbH
Below I’ve translated just a small part of one of the many legends about Rübezahl. Before you start reading, though, let me recommend that you open YouTube in two separate windows so you can listen to some appropriate music. So significant is this mythical figure that he’s attracted the attention of some important composers like Carl Maria von Weber and Erich Wolfgang Korngold! There are even whole operas and movies about Rübezahl.
Weber’s Overture Beherrscher der Geister
Korngold’s Rübezahl from his Fairytale Pictures
So here’s a taste of the Rübezahl legends. But remember, if you ever come to this mountainous corner of the Czech Republic, don’t say his name out loud!
Rübezahl was not always in the mood to show even a little kindness to those to whom he had brought harm and disadvantage through his tricks. Often he cared little whether he was teasing a villain or an honest man. Sometimes he joined a lonely hiker as an escort, led the stranger astray unnoticed, left him standing by the fall of a mountain pinnacle or in a swamp and then disappeared with scornful laughter. At times he would frighten the timid market women by appearing in the bizarre forms of totally unknown animals. Often he would paralyze horses so they could not move, break a wheel or an axle on wagons, or let a stray boulder roll down into a ravine, which travelers would have to jump away from at the last moment. Sometimes an invisible force would hold a wagon so that six swift horses could not pull it away. If the wagon driver chided or cursed Rübezahl for his tricks, then the mountain spirit would send an army of hornets or a hail of stones down at him.
Rübezahl once made the acquaintance of an old shepherd who was an honest man, and these two even established a kind of intimate friendship. Rübezahl allowed the shepherd to drive the flock to the hedges of his mountain gardens, which no one else could come near. The spirit sometimes listened with pleasure when the old man recounted the trivial events of his long life. Nonetheless, the old man, too, fell victim to Rübezahl’s displeasure. One day, as the shepherd was driving his flock into the gnome's enclosure, some sheep broke through the hedges and grazed in the grassy areas of the garden. Rübezahl was so angry at this that he immediately chased the flock down the mountain in a wild tumult. So few of the sheep survived that the old shepherd soon ran out of food, and so Rübezahl vexed his friend to death.
A doctor from Schmiedeberg, who used to collect plants in the Giant Mountains, also occasionally enjoyed the honor of entertaining the gnome with his boastful talkativeness. Rübezahl would join him sometimes as a woodcutter, sometimes as a traveler. At times he was so kind as to carry the doctor’s heavy bundle of herbs a good part of the way and to inform him of some still unknown healing powers. The doctor, who thought himself wiser than any in herbalism, once took these instructions badly and groused: "The cobbler should stick to his job, and the woodcutter should not teach the doctor. But because you are knowledgeable about herbs and plants, tell me, you wise Solomon, which was more, the acorn or the oak tree?" The spirit replied: "The tree, for the fruit comes from the tree." - "Fool," said the doctor, "where did the first tree come from if it did not sprout from the seed that is locked in the fruit?" The woodcutter replied: “As I can see, this is a wise man’s question that is almost too high for me. But I want to put a question to you: to whom does this ground on which we stand belong, the King of Bohemia or the Lord of the Mountains?" (This is what the locals called the mountain spirit after they learned that uttering the name Rübezahl would only bring bruises and scourges.) The doctor did not think for long: "I mean, this property belongs to my lord, the King of Bohemia; because Rübezahl is just a pipe dream, a boogeyman that makes children fearful." No sooner were these words out of his mouth than the woodcutter turned into a hideous giant with eyes of sparkling fire and fists like granite. He snarled grimly at the doctor and said in a thundering voice: "Here is Rübezahl himself, who will smack you down!" The giant caught the doctor by the collar, rammed him against the trees and cliffs, tore and tossed him back and forth, at last knocked out one eye and left him lying on the place as if dead, so that the doctor decided afterwards never to go back into the high places.
The original German from which I drew these fragments is here.
