Part 2

And, moreover, literary parallels are the ancestors of that undocile child, Conjecture. We must remember that sirenic and echo poetry are almost as old as the tide of the sea, certainly as old as the hills, while as to the general situation, there is a passage in Milton's _Comus_ (ll. 880-84) analogous to Heine's ballad, as follows:

And fair Ligea's golden comb, Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, Sleeking her soft alluring locks, By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance,

and so on. And as to the pronounced similarity of form, we must remember that Heine was here employing his favorite measure, while Loeben was almost the equal of Ruckert in regard to the number of verse and strophe forms he effectively and easily controlled. In short, striking similarity in content is lacking, and as to the same sort of similarity in form to this but little if any significance can be attached.

And if the internal evidence is thin, the external is invisible, except for the fact that Loeben's ballad was published by Brockhaus, whom Heine knew by correspondence. But between the years 1818 and 1847, Heine never published anything in _Urania_,[57] which was used by so many of his contemporaries. Heine and Loeben never knew each other personally, and between the years 1821 and 1823 they were never regionally close together.[58] Heine never mentions Loeben in his letters; nor does he refer to him in his creative works, despite the fact that he had a habit of alluding to his brothers in Apollo, even in his poems.[59]

And therefore, though it is fashionable to say that Heine knew Loeben's ballad in 1823, and though the contention is plausible, it is impossible to prove it. Impossible also for this reason: Karl Simrock, Heine's intimate friend, included in his _Rheinsagen_ (1836, 1837, 1841)[60] the ballads on the Lorelei by Brentano, Eichendorff, Heine, and himself. Why did he exclude the one by Loeben? He made an ardent appeal in his preface to his colleagues to inform him of any other ballads that had been written on these themes. The question must be referred to those who like to skate on flabby ice in things literary.

The most plausible theory in regard to the source of Heine's ballad is the one proposed by Oscar F. Walzel, who says: "Heine hat den Stoff wahrscheinlich aus dem ihm wohlbekannten _Handbuch für Reisende am Rhein_ von Aloys Schreiber übernommen."[61] The only proof that Walzel gives that Heine knew Schreiber's manual is a reference[62] to it in _Lutetia_. But this was written in 1843, and proves nothing as to 1823. His contention, however, that Heine borrowed from Schreiber[63] has everything in its favor, from the point of view of both external and internal evidence and deserves, therefore, detailed elaboration.

As to internal evidence, there is only one slight difference between Heine's ballad and Schreiber's saga: where Heine's Lorelei combs her hair with a golden comb and has golden jewelry, Schreiber's "bindet einen Kranz für ihre goldenen Locken" and "hat eine Schnur von Bernstein in der Hand." Even here the color scheme is the same; otherwise there is no difference: time, place, and events are precisely the same in both. The mood and style are especially similar. The only words in Heine not found in Schreiber are "Kamm" and "bedeuten." Schreiber goes, to be sure, farther than does Heine: he continues the story after the death of the hero.[64] This, however, is of no significance, for Heine was simply interested in his favorite theme of unrequited or hindered love.

Now Heine must have derived his plot from somewhere, else this would be an uncanny case of coincidence. And the two expressions, "Aus alten Zeiten," and "Mit ihrem Singen," the latter of which is so important, Heine could have derived only from Schreiber. Heine was not jesting when he said it was a fairy tale from the days of old; he was following, it seems, Schreiber's saga, the first sentence of which reads as follows: "In alten Zeiten liess sich manchmal auf dem Lureloy um die Abenddämmerung und beym Mondschein eine Jungfrau sehen, die mit so anmuthiger Stimme sang, dass alle, die es hörten, davon bezaubert wurden." But Brentano's Lorelei does not sing at all, and Loeben's just a little, "Sie singt dir hold zum Ohre," while Heine, like Schreiber, puts his heroine in the prima donna class, and has her work her charms through her singing. And it seems that Heine was following Schreiber when the latter wrote as follows: "Viele, die vorüberschifften, gingen am Felsenriff oder im Strudel zu Grunde, weil sie nicht mehr auf den Lauf des Fahrzeugs achteten, sondern von den himmlischen Tönen der wunderbaren Jungfrau gleichsam vom Leben abgelöst wurden, wie das zarte Leben der Blume sich im süssen Duft verhaucht."

And as to her personal appearance, Brentano and Loeben simply tell us that she was beautiful, Brentano employing the Homeric method of proving her beauty by its effects. Heine and Schreiber not only comment upon her physical beauty, they also tell us how she enhanced her natural charms by zealously attending to her hair and her jewelry and religiously guarding the color scheme in so doing. In brief, the similarity is so striking that, if we can prove that Heine knew Schreiber in 1823, we can definitely assert that Schreiber[65] was his main, if not his unique, source.

Let us take up the various arguments in favor of the contention that Heine knew Schreiber's Handbuch in 1823, beginning with the least convincing. If Heine read Loeben's ballad and saga in "_Urania_ für 1821," he could thereby have learned also of Schreiber's _Rheinsagen_, for, by a peculiar coincidence for our purpose, Brockhaus discusses[66] these in the introduction in connection with a tragedy by W. Usener, entitled Die Brüder, and based upon one of Schreiber's _Sagen_. Proof, then, that Heine knew Loeben in 1823 is almost proof that he also knew Schreiber.

But there is better proof than this. In Elementargeister[67], we find this sentence: "Ganz genau habe ich die Geschichte nicht im Kopfe; wenn ich nicht irre, wird sie in Schreibers _Rheinischen Sagen_ aufs umständlichste erzählt. Es ist die Sage vom Wisperthal, welches unweit Lorch am Rheine gelegen ist." And then Heine tells the same story that is told by Schreiber. It is the eighth of the seventeen _Sagen_ in question. This, then, is proof that Heine knew Schreiber so long before 1835 that he was no longer sure he could depend upon his memory. But it is impossible to say whether Heine's memory was good for twelve years, or more, or less.

But there is better evidence than this. Heine's _Der Rabbi von Bacharach_ reaches far back into his life. That he intended to write this sort of work before 1823 has been proved;[68] just when he actually began to write this particular work is not so clear, but we know that he did much preliminary reading by way of preparing himself for its composition. And the region around and above and below Bacharach comes in for detailed discussion and elaborate description in Schreiber's _Rheinsagen_. The crusades, the _Sankt-Wernerskirchen_, Lorch, the _Fischfang_, Hatto's _Mäuseturm_, the maelstrom at Bingen, the _Kedrich_, the story of the _Kecker Reuter_ who liberated the maid that had been abducted by dwarfs, and again, and this is irrefutable, the story "von dem wunderlicheft Wisperthale drüben, wo die Vögel ganz vernünftig sprechen," all of these and others play a large role in Schreiber's sagas and in Heine's _Rabbi_. No one can read Schreiber's _Handbuch_ and Heine's _Rabbi_ without being convinced that the former stood sponsor for the latter.

And lastly, Heine wrote before 1821 his poem entitled "Die zwei Brüder."[69] It is the tenth of the seventeen _Volkssagen_ by Schreiber, the same theme as the one treated by W. Usener already referrred to. It is an old story,[70] and Heine could have derived his material from a number of places, but not from Grimm's _Deutsche_ _Sagen_, indeed from no place so convenient as Schreiber. Heine knew Schreiber's _Handbuch_[71] in 1823.

The situation, then, is as follows: Heine had to have a source or sources, There are three candidates for Heine honors; Brentano, Loeben, Schreiber. Brentano has a number of supporters, though the evidence, external and internal, is wholly lacking. It would seem that lack of attention to chronology has misled investigators. Brentano's ballad can now be read in many places, but between about 1815 and 1823 it was safely concealed in the pages of an unread and unknown novel. Loeben[72] has many supporters, though the external evidence, except for the fact that Heine corresponded with Brockhaus, is wholly lacking, and the internal weakens on careful study. It would seem that the striking similarity in form has misled investigators. Schreiber has only one supporter, despite the fact that the evidence, external and internal, is as strong as it can be without Heine's ever having made some such remark as the following: "Yes, in 1823 I knew _only_ Schreiber's saga and borrowed from it." But Heine never made any such statement. It would seem that the strong assertions of so many investigators in favor of Brentano and Loeben have made careful study of the matter appear not worth while; the problem was apparently solved. And since Heine never committed himself in this connection, the matter will, in all probability, remain forever conjectural. This much, however, is irrefutable: even if Heine knew in 1823 the five _Loreleidichtungen_, that had then been written, those by Brentano, Niklas Vogt, Eichendorff, Schreiber, and Loeben, and if he borrowed what he needed from all of them, he borrowed more from Schreiber[73] than from the other four combined.[74]

III

Whore Brentano sowed, many have reaped. Since the publication of his _Godwi_, about sixty-five _Loreleidichtungen_[75] have been written in German, the most important being those by Brentano (1810-16), Niklas Vogt[76] (1811), Eichendorff (_ca._ 1812), Loeben (1821), Heine (1823), Simrock (1837, 1840), Otto Ludwig (1838), Geibel (1834, 1846), W. Müller von Königswinter (1851), Carmen Sylva, (_ca._ 1885), A. L'Arronge (1886), Julius Wolff (1886), and Otto Roquette (1889). In addition[77] to these, the story has been retold[78] many times, with slight alterations of the "original" versions, by compilers of chrestomathies, and parodies have been written on it. There is hardly a conceivable interpretation that has not been placed upon the legend.[79] The Lorelei has been made by some the evil spirit that entices men into hazardous games of chance, by others, she is the lofty incarnation of a desire to live and be blessed with the love that knows no turning away. The story has also wandered to Italy, France, England, Scotland, Scandinavia, and the United States,[80] and the heroine has proved a grateful theme for painters and sculptors. Of the epic works, that by Julius Wolff is of interest because of the popularity it has enjoyed. First published in 1886, it had reached the forty-sixth thousand in 1898. Of the dramas that by L'Arronge should be valuable, but it has apparently never been published; nor has Otto Ludwig's operatic fragment,[81] unless recently. Aside from Geibel, Otto Roquette is the most interesting librettist. Of the forty-odd (there were forty-two in 1898) composers of Heine's ballad, the greatest are Schumann, Raff, and Liszt, and in this case Friedrich Sucher,[82] who married the ballad to its now undivorceable melody.

Though Brentano created[83] the story of his ballad, he located it in a region rich in legendary material, and it was the echo-motif of which he made especial use, and traces of this can be found in German literature as early as the thirteenth century.[84] The first real poet to borrow from Brentano was Eichendorff,[85] in whose _Ahnung und Gegenwart_ we have the poem since published separately under the title of "Waldgespräch," and familiar to many through Schumann's composition.[86] That Eichendorff's Lorelei operates the forest is only to be expected of the author of so many _Waldlieder_. Even if Heine had known it he could have borrowed nothing from it except the name of his heroine.[87]

As to Loeben's saga, there can be but little doubt that he derived his initial inspiration from Schreiber, with whom he became intimately acquainted[88] at Heidelberg during the winter of 1807-8. This, of course, is not to say that Heine borrowed from Loeben. Indeed, one of the strongest proofs that Heine borrowed from Schreiber rather than from Loeben is the clarity and brevity, ease and poetry of Schreiber's saga as over against the obscurity and diffuseness, clumsiness and woodenness of Loeben's saga,[89] the plot of which, so far as the action is concerned, is as follows: Hugbert von Stahleck, the son of the Palsgrave, falls in love with the Lorelei and rows out in the night to her seat by the Rhine. In landing, he falls into the stream, the Lorelei dives after him and brings him to the surface. The old Palsgrave has, in the meanwhile, sent a knight and two servants to capture the Lorelei. They climb the lofty rock and hang a stone around the enchantress' neck, when she voluntarily leaps from the cliff into the Rhine below and is drowned.

The one episode in Loeben not found in any of Schreiber's _Rheinsagen_ is the story of the castaway ring miraculously restored from the stomach of the fish. This Loeben could have taken from "Magelone" by Tieck, or "Polykrates" by Schiller, both of whom he revered as men and with whose works he was thoroughly familiar. But there is nothing in Loeben that Heine could not have derived in more inspiring form from Schreiber; and Schreiber contains essentials not in Loeben at all. Indeed, a general study of Schreiber's manuals leads one to believe that the influence of them, as a whole, on Heine would be a most grateful theme: there is not one Germanic legend referred to in Heine that is not contained in Schreiber. And as a prose writer, Heine's fame rests largely on his travel pictures.[90]

The points of similarity between Loeben's ballad and saga and the ballads and Märchen of Brentano, all of which Loeben knew in 1821, are wholly negligible. It remains,[91] therefore, simply to point out some of the peculiarities of Brentano's "Loreley" as protrayed in the _Rheinmärchen_--peculiarities that are interesting in themselves and that may have played a part in the development of the legend since 1846.

In "Das Märchen von dem Rhein und dem Müller Radlauf,"[92] Loreley is portrayed in a sevenfold capacity, as it were: seven archways lead to seven doors that open onto seven stairways that lead to a large hall in which Frau Lureley sits on a sevenfold throne with seven crowns upon her head and her seven daughters around her. This makes interesting reading for children, but Brentano did not lose sight of adults, including those who like to speculate as to the origin of the legend. He says: "Sie [Lorelei] ist eine Tochter der Phantasie, welches eine berühmte Eigenschaft ist, die bei Erschaffung der Welt mitarbeitete und das Allerbeste dabei that; als sie unter der Arbeit ein schönes Lied sang, hörte sie es immer wiederholen und fand endlich den Wiederhall, einen schönen Jüngling in einem Felsen sitzen, mit dem sie sich verheiratete und mit ihm die Frau Lureley erzeugte; sie hatten auch noch viele andere Kinder, zum Beispiel: die Echo, den Akkord, den Reim, deren Nachkommen sich noch auf der Welt herumtreiben."

Just as Frau Lureley closes the first _Märchen_, so does she begin the second: "Von dem Hause Staarenberg und den Ahnen des Müllers Radlauf."[93] Here she creates, or motivates, the other characters. Her seven daughters appear with her, as follows: Herzeleid, Liebesleid, Liebeseid, Liebesneid, Liebesfreud, Reu und Leid, and Mildigkeit. She reappears then with her seven daughters at the close of the _Märchen_, and each sings a beautiful song, while Frau Lureley, the mother of Radlauf, proves to be a most beneficent creature. Imaginative as Brentano was, he rarely rose to such heights as in this and the next, "Märchen vom Murmelthier,"[94] in which Frau Lureley continues her great work of love and kindness. She rights all wrongs, rewards the just, corrects the unjust, and leads a most remarkable life whether among the poor on land or in her element in the water. All of which is poles removed from Loeben's saga, though he knew these _Märchen_,[95] for they were written when Brentano was his intimate friend.

As to the importance of Loeben's saga, Wilhelm Hertz says: "Fast alle jüngeren Dichter knüpfen an seinen Erfindungen an, so besonders die zahlreichen musikdramatischen Bearbeitungen."[96] It is extremely doubtful that this statement is correct. It is plain that many of the lyric writers leaned on Schreiber, and the librettists could have done the same; or they could have derived their initial suggestion in more attractive form than that offered by Loeben. It seems, however, that Geibel[97] knew Loeben's saga. Though his individual poems on the Lorelei betray the influence of Heine, and though his drama resembles Brentano's ballad in mood and in unimportant details, it contains the same proper names of persons and places that are found in Loeben. And what is more significant, it contains two important events that are not found in any of the other versions of the saga: the scene with the wine-growers and the story of the castaway ring. The latter is an old theme, but that they both occur in Loeben and in Geibel would argue that the latter took them from the former. It is largely a question as to whether a poet like Geibel has to have a source for everything that is not absolutely abstract. The entire matter is complicated.[98] The paths of the Lorelei have crossed each other many times since Brentano started her on her wanderings. To draw up a map of her complete course, showing just who influenced whom, would be a task more difficult than grateful.[99]

As to Brentano's original ballad,[100] try as we may to depreciate the value of his creation by tracing it back to echo-poetry and by coupling it with older legends, such as that of Frau Holla, we are forced to give him credit for having not simply revived but for having created a legend that is beautiful in itself and that has found a host of imitators, direct and indirect, the world over, including one of the world's greatest lyric writers. This then is just one of the many things that the German romanticists started; it is just one of their many contributions to the literature that lasts. And for the perpetuation of this one, students of German literature have, it seems, given the obscure Graf von Loeben entirely too much credit. But who will give the oft-scolded Clemens Brentano too little credit? Only those who dislike romanticism on general principles and who will not be convinced that the romanticists could be original.[101]

ALLEN WILSON PORTERFIELD

COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY

NEW YORK CITY

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Ferdinand August Otto Heinrich Graf von Loeben, the scion of an old, aristocratic, Protestant family, was born at Dresden, August 18, 1786. He received his first instruction from private tutors. For three years from 1804 on, he unsuccessfully, because unwillingly, studied law at the University of Wittenberg. In 1807 he entered, to his profound delight, the University of Heidelberg, where, in association with Arnim, Brentano, and Görres, he satisfied his longing for literature and art. Beginning with 1808 he lived alternately at Wien, Dresden, and Berlin and with Fouqué at Nennhausen. He took an active part in the campaign of 1813-14, marched to Paris, and returned after his company had been disbanded, to Dresden, where, in 1817, he married Johanna Victoria Gottliebe _geb._ von Bressler and established there his permanent abode. In 1822 he suffered a stroke of apoplexy from which he never recovered: even the magnetic treatment given him by Justinus Kerner proved of no avail. He died at Dresden, April 3, 1825. See _Allgemeine deutsche Biographie_, XIX, 40-45. The article is by Professor Muncker. Wilhelm Müller also wrote an article full of lavish praise of Loeben in _Neuer Nekrolog der Deutschen_, III, Jahrg. 1824, Ilmenau, 1827.

[2] Meyer (6th ed.) does not mention Loeben even in the articles on Fouqué and Malsburg, two of Loeben's best friends; Brockhaus (Jubilee ed.) mentions him as one of Eichendorff's friends in the article on Eichendorff, but neither has an independent note on Loeben. Nor is he mentioned in such compendious works on the nineteenth century as those by Gottschall, R.M. Meyer (_Grundriss_ and _Geschichte_), and Fr. Kummer. Biese says (_Deutsche Literaturgeschichte_, II. 436) of him: "Auch ein so ausgesprochenes Talent, wie es Graf von Loeben war, entging nicht der Gefahr, die Romantik in ihre Karikatur zu verzerren."

[3] Cf. _Allgemeine deutsche Biographie_, XIX, 42.

[4] Partial lists of his works are given in: Goedeke, _Grundriss_, VI, 108-10 (2nd ed.): _Allgemeine deutsche Biographie_, XIX. 40-45; the sole monograph on Loeben by Raimund Pissin. _Otto Heinrich Graf von Loeben, sein Leben und seine Werke_, Berlin, 1905, 326 pages. By piecing these lists together--for they vary--it seems that Loeben wrote, aside from the works mentioned above, the following: 1 conventional drama, 1 musical-romantic drama, 2 narrative poems, one of which is on Ferdusi, 3 collections of poems, between 30 and 40 novelettes, fairy tales and so on. and_ "einige tausend" aphorisms and detached thoughts. It is in Pissin's monograph that Loeben's position in the Heidelberg circle of 1807-8 is worked out. as follows: Loeben and Eichendorff constituted one branch, Arnim and Brentano the other, Görres stood loosely between the two, and the others sided now with one group, now with the other.

[5] The verses are from _Geständnisse_, No. 125 in Pissin's collection of Loeben's poems.

[6] _Geständnisse_. No. 125.

[7] Aside from the reviews, letters, and individual poems reprinted here and there, the following works were accessible to the writer: (1) _Das weisse Ross, eine altdeutsche Familienchronik; (2) Die Sonnenkinder, eine Erzählung; (3) Die Perle und die Maiblume, eine Novelle; (4) Cephalus und Procris, ein Drama; (5) Ferdusi; (6) Persiens Ritter, eine Erzählung; (7) Die Zaubernächte am Bosporus, ein romantisches Gedicht; (8) Prinz Floridio, ein Märchen; (9) Leda; eine Erzählung; (10) Weinmärchen; (11) Gesänge._

[8] Eichendorff's relation to Loeben can be studied in the edition of Eichendorff's works by Wilhelm Kusch, Regensburg. Vols. III, X-XIII have already appeared. For a poetization of Loeben, see _Ahnung und Gegenwart_, chap. xii, pp. 144 ff. For a historical account of Loeben, see _Erlebtes_, chap. x, pp. 425 ff. It is here that Eichendorff makes Goethe praise Loeben in the foregoing fashion.

[9] There is no positive evidence that Goethe made any such remark. In his _Gespräche_ (Biedermann. V, 270; VI, 198-99) there are two references to Loeben by Goethe; they are favorable but noncommittal as to his poetic ability.

[10] Cf. _Die Tagebücher des Gräfen von Platen_, Stuttgart, 1900. Under date of August 14, 1824, Platen wrote: "Es enthält viele gute Bemerkungen, wiewohl diese Art Prosa nicht nach meinem Sinne ist." The reference is to Loeben's commentary to Madame de Staëls _De l'Allemayne._

[11] Cf. _Heinrick von Kleists Berliner Kämpfe_, Berlin, 1901, pp. 490-96. The story in question is "Die furchtbare Einladung."