The Greifenstein Castle

The castle as it appears today, overlooking the Danube River approximately 25 km north of Vienna, Austria. There is a legend that goes with this castle, so draw near and listen . . .

The story of the Greifenstein Castle.......

An Old Story

Are you the people we expect to today's knight-meal in the castle of Greifenstein? You are? Very good. Follow me, I will show you the way.

Yes, this is the Danube at your left hand. An old, lazy river? Believe me, the ship masters were very grateful, when it was tamed finally. In its young days it was a wild, dangerous river, full of swirls and counterflows. The horses pulling the boat upstream often lost their lives. Not only exhaustion killed them, gangs of robbers added their part, too. Hijacking was a common sport in the old times.

Fortunately, the Lords of Greifenstein granted them both, protection and help. The demanded tax was easily paid. Compared to the possible losses everybody considered it a reasonable amount.

We cross the road now and take this narrow way. Don't fear we will have to climb like these few meters all the time. Remember, the knight and his swordsmen had to rush down quickly sometimes, and the way had to be safe for the horses, too. The path leads us softly through the wood. Be grateful for the shadow!

Do you see the foot of the castle rock? Just a few more minutes until the castle itself shows up. If the rain washed out the rock here and there? Perhaps it did, but most of the work was done by the strongest men. Boiling water and oil was pouring down to stop the enemies in times of highest danger.

You are surprised, how suddenly the trees stand back and how far you can see now. The city on the horizon is Tulin. Remember the knight needed time to reach the river--boats are fast in this direction!

What did you say? You heard some wind blowing through the windows of the tower. Maybe. But....maybe you heard him sigh, the last Lord of Greifenstein. For hundreds of years he is waiting up there, waiting for his salvation.

He was not an evil man, at all. In his younger days, the castle was full of joy and laughter. The Lord and his fragile, lovely wife even had plans to enlarge it for their children. The first of them was already on the way. The child's -- a daughter's -- birth was difficult, and the lady never recovered from the pains. Every new morning found her weaker than the last evening. Neither the healer's medicine and the herbwitch's treatments nor the castle priest's prayers could help. The lady died and left him alone with his little daughter.

There he sat in his huge chair, holding the baby in his arms, eye to eye with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen -- for he noticed his wife's beauty in the child. At this moment he devoted all his love to the girl, and it was a strong, helpless love. No harm should ever cast a shadow on his daughter's life.

The years passed by, the girl grew up and was the sunshine of his days and the dream of his nights, and also loved him tenderly. Wandering singers praised the Lord's knightly virtues, and more and more added verses about his pretty daughter with the thick shiny braids.

Already the Lord's neighbors asked him, what would he think of a marriage? Many knights would have been highly pleased of such a relationship. He was an honourable man, just to everyone, a good educator for other knights' sons, and he certainly was rich. He asked his daughter what she thought and felt relieved, when she showed no interest at all. He also thought it was too soon. Anyway, his visions of future changed a little. He saw himself supported in his duties by a son-in-law, the best knight ever found in the nearer and farther surroundings, and of course, some grandchildren filling the castle with their joyous games, and his daughter beside him.

What he did not know was, that she had already fallen in love with her father's hunter. Young was he, good looking and handsome, and he returned her love with the same intensity. He was a poor man, of course, and not according to her social position, but who asks for such trivial things when love burns! Though they were aware of the differences in their birth and education, they met each other as often as they had an opportunity. Finally, it was not avoidable any more that the Lord found out what was going on in front of his eyes. He talked to his daughter, friendly and patiently, but she persisted in her right of love. So he found no other solution but to suspend the hunter from his position.

You know, true love always finds ways to survive. But the knight was on the alert and their secret rendezvous were rare. The sadness in the girl's face could not be missed, her meals were left hardly touched. Even the old castle priest, as her father confessor, felt sympathy, and when the couple asked him to be married, he did not refuse his help and blessed their bond of marriage. And openly, she confessed her decision when her father asked her, trusting in his love and hoping he would put up with the fact somehow. He did not. He could not.

His rage was boundless. Not only had she crossed all his plans but also had acted against all rules of behaviour and knighthood.

"You are not my daughter any more! I swear, you will never set your foot in my house in all your life," he shouted. All the swordsmen and servants and also the priest came down to the yard to see what had happened. The priest asked him to calm down, but as soon as the Lord noticed him, he remembered the part the priest had in this matter.

"Out of my eyes, old man. Didn't you know what you did? What a life expects my daughter now? Being the last of my house, I hoped that my bloodline would end up in a respectable dynasty. Once more, this door shall stay closed for this woman forevermore!" Crying, the daughter fled out into the thunderstorm coming up.

"My son," the priest started again, "be careful with your words and don't swear like this. You always have been a loving father, remember that."

"Don't call me son, you who have never had children. Nothing do you know about a father's love and care. And if you don't like my words, I will change my oath. See the hollow in this rock -- my castle's cornerstone? When this hollow will be deep enough to take in the thick braids of my former daughter, only then will she be allowed to enter this house again. And shall I die the same day and be damned, if I ever break my oath! Servants, throw this thoughtless priest into my deepest dungeon, right now!" Flash and thunder accepted the oath. The servants, frozen with shock, hesitated. Only the fury in the knight's eyes made them obey. Fearing the sin of hurting a priest, they carefully led him down the steep stairs.

A very old, undated photo of the castle as seen from across the Danube. Notice the old steamboat/packet ship carrying passengers and freight upstream from Vienna.

The story continues.......

The young couple in the forest tried their best. They built a hut where the wood was thickest. Life was not too hard. Spring had just begun to warm the ground, summer was not too wet and even fall brought warm days. The hunter knew where to find animals, fruit and roots for food. From time to time the young woman waited near the castle to see her father. Around him, even smiles had faded away, and his stony face discouraged her. She never dared to address him.

Winter, though late that year, brought not only the birth of a child, but also new sorrows. The trees had lost all their leaves, and the first snow covered the ground. The smoke of their fire would be visible far away, and so the couple decided to heat only in dark nights. Frost bit through the wooden walls, and hunger and illness occupied the hut. Love and only only warmed their souls, not their bodies. The woman and the child suffered from heavy colds and fever and could not leave their bed of leaves and furs any more.

The Lord generally used the cold season for the necessary inspection of his villages. Of course, he happened to notice a hut in the middle of his forest. He went to see who settled there without his permission and opened the door. Could that be? This poor sick woman so very similar to his dead wife -- was she really his beautiful daughter? Their eyes met, and sympathy filled his soul. The tears in his eyes melted the icy armor of loss and senselessness and washed it away. He finally was ready to forgive and seek a solution, and brought his daughter and her family home.

The whole household helped to prepare a big feast. They had the same knight-meal we had today, and I think you will agree it was excellent. After the meal, late at night, the knight suddenly remembered the priest down in the dungeon. He decided that everybody should be happy with them and went to set the old man free. He wanted to hurry down the stairs, but he stumbled over the rock, fell down and broke his neck. The god of oaths caught his parting soul and locked it into the highest tower of the castle, where it was meant to stay until the hollow in the rock would be deep enough for his daughter's braids.

Show him your respect now, you guests. Kneel down and grip the stone. May it be merciful and crumble to dust under the palms of your hands, as the knight had been merciful at last.

Translation provided by Elfriede Nedoma, of the Technische Universitaet, Wien, whose summer home was in the shadow of the Castle Greifenstein.

~~Translation note: Greifen (to grip) stein (the stone) ~~

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Here is a new offering (Nov. 5, 2004) from Elfriede Nedoma:
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the "Schwur-Stein" (oath stone) of Greifenstein.


And this is how to use the stone: With some fantasy, you can make out 3 deepenings in the stone. Almost in the center of the stone you see 2 bigger deepenings, one horizontal and one vertical (on the left edge) - those are for the legs. Approach respectfully and place your right lower leg into the horizontal deepening, so that the knee fits into the pit on the right side.
Then step onto the stone, using the pit on the left for your left foot.
Your left lower leg will stand erect now, filling the vertical groove, the knee being the highest part. Naturally you will now try to find some hold, and of course you will use your left hand to grasp the small pit on top of the stone, right above the place where your foot is. And now show me if, hanging there in such a crippled posture, you can think of anything else to do but raising your right hand and swear to be a peaceful guest!

Of course, you also can prefer the interpretation that the falling knight of the Greifenstein saga left those prints of his extremities in the stone...

 

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