Halloween 2016 Post: The Odenwald Witch

In honor of today, I thought it'd be fun to do a post on something spooky. I had quite a few options, many of them inspired by my childhood in southwestern Germany, the birthplace of many of Grimm's fairy tales. I've decided to cover an incident which actually occurred to me in the spring of 2011.

I'll start with a few statements and caveats. Firstly, this story IS true to the best of my memory; I've simply omitted or consolidated a couple of points to keep things brief-ish. Secondly, in general I am not particularly superstitious and my belief in ghosts and the paranormal can be considered, at best, skeptical. I personally think that there's some sort of logical explanation for this incident, though what it would be I have never quite worked out for myself satisfactorily.

The Trip

In 2011 I took a year in between college and grad school to work and save some money. I also decided to use some of this cash to take a nice trip to Europe; the original plan was to spend nearly 2 months there. I would spend a week in my hometown of Heidelberg, Germany, and the rest of the time in France, Italy, Austria, Switzerland, and the UK. I grew up in a military family, and as a kid we moved a lot. Until I was almost a teenager we didn't spend more than a year or two anywhere, except for Heidelberg, and for that reason I have always considered it my childhood home. For reasons I will not get into here, I was forced to cut the trip down to a paltry two weeks shortly after arriving in Germany. I decided to cash in my rail pass, rent a car, and spend my time simply driving around southern Germany visiting friends, places we used to vacation when I was a kid, and generally relaxing.

Odenwald Fog (None of my photos of the day were this clear!)

The third full day of the trip, I had my plans squared away, and decided I'd venture into the Odenwald (more on that below). It's the region that Heidelberg sits in, and the more rural parts of it are full of small towns, castles, and some excellent hiking. My plan was to spend the day driving slowly along back roads from Heidelberg to the village of Michelstadt, a medieval town deep in the region that my family would often visit when I was a child. Along the way I had determined to stop at any locations or towns I thought looked interesting, get a little hiking in in the abundant woodland and small mountains, and generally enjoy myself.

My Odenwald road, just outside of Heidelberg. The fog grew thicker as the morning wore on

Odin's Forest

The Odenwald is a fascinating region of Germany, occupying a small patch covering several German states in the southwest of the country, near the French border. It's quite close to the Black Forest, and many people consider it a less touristy version of that region. It is mountainous and heavily forested, and the canopy, like that of the Black Forest, is so dense that the forest is often dark even in daylight hours. It's extremely beautiful, and if you like small villages, hiking, and medieval history I recommend visiting if you ever find yourself in the Frankfurt area.

The region has an extensive history; for nearly 100 years it made up the edge of the Roman Empire, and was one of the few regions of Germany settled by them. Several forts, camps, and bases there made up a section of the Lime Germanicus, the line of fortifications protecting the Romans from Germanic invasion. It was otherwise sparsely inhabited, until the Franks showed up and began building the regions first permanent towns and villages.

Me looking dopey in Michelstadt's town center, in front of the old guildhall.

The region has quite a history of violence; it's near the modern French border, sat in a border region between numerous small rival constituent states of the Holy Roman Empire, and due to the rivers, streams, mountains, and thick forests in the region it was highly defensible and ideal to build fortifications in. Towns in the region were frequently besieged, stormed, or sacked from the medieval period on, and saw fighting as late as the Second World War. This attention brought further dangers, and the region saw several outbreaks of plague and other diseases.

The origin of the region's name is a mystery, but there are several theories. Probably the most prominent, and the one I was told as a child by locals, is that the name mean's "Odin's Forest". Before the Romans came the area was supposedly sacred to Germanic barbarians who worshiped Wodan, the Germanic version of the Norse Odin. Local legend says that these early Germans sacrificed humans to their gods in the sacred forest by nailing them to or hanging them from the trees, and avoided the area for settlement due to its religious importance. This theory is hotly debated by modern local historians, but I think it adds another special layer of creepiness!

Anglo-Saxon depiction of Wodan/Woden, the Germanic version of Odin.

The region is also FULL of ghost stories and stories of the supernatural. The brothers Grimm mined the area for their work on folklore, and every town and hamlet has its own local legends. One says that a ghostly knight named Rodenstein rides through the forests at night with a band of barbarian berserkers whenever a war is going to break out. Others tell of appearances of the devil, who is said to rest on a particular rock or tree stump, beguiling travelers, making satanic deals, and leading people to their doom. The German mythological figure Siegfried was supposedly murdered in the area, and rumors of his ghostly curse abound. And of course, like any rural area in Germany, there are the stories of witches, the Hexen  who haunt the forests eating children and generally being a menace. Of particular Odenwalder flavor are the Wildweibchen, wild women who live in the forests. They are said to have power over men and animals and may be nature spirits, demons, witches, or some combination of all three.

The Ghostly Rodenstein begins his ride foretelling doom. 

Medieval Depiction of a Wild Woman

The Wildweibchen

It was early spring, and it was quite cool; I wore a light coat and pants, and it was both very rainy and very foggy. The road I took followed the Neckar river, and was dotted with castles and villages. I was in the Odenwald, and I was in a great mood. The fog was low along the river and the towns, but thinned near the mountain and hilltops, where castles frequently appeared in the mist. Around 10 the rain lightened, and I saw an empty carpark and sign indicating a local tourist attraction. I pulled off, grabbed my beat up old camera, and started trekking on the small trail that led up the side of the mountain towards several castles I could see which sat on the slopes above me.

One of the castles I could see from the road, the Schwalbennest, or Swallow's Nest Castle. I took this photo on the day this story takes place, you can see how foggy and eerie it was outside!

The fog was heavy, but the rain was light and the temperature was perfect for a hike. I was totally alone, and figured I could get some great photos and enjoy the solitude. I was soon in front of one of the castles, a ruined husk of a building with only a small sign featuring the castle's name and a brief timeline. I spent several minutes looking around the abandoned ruins, my curiosity fired.

My castle. I modified this photo to remove some of the fog, and can not find an original unaltered copy. 

I later found out the town was called Neckarsteinach, It's a small, cozy town which straddles the Neckar and has four castles (in the fog, I could only see two). It's a neat little medieval town across the river from the somewhat Dilsberg Castle, and in nicer weather is apparently somewhat popular with hikers and tourists. It also has its fair share of ghost and other supernatural stories, most of which like those described above (it's also one of the towns claiming to be the murder site of Siegfried).

The Castle. The Golden sign is an information plate that I somehow missed on my exploration of the ruins, 

At the time though I knew little of this. After a few minutes, it began to rain through the fog, and I figured nobody would be along to answer any of my questions, so I headed back to the forest path. Just as I got back to it, I saw an older elderly lady walking up the path towards me. Even with the inclement weather, this wasn't surprising; Germans of all ages love hiking and walking, and if anything I was more surprised that this was the only person I'd seen.

I should note here that my spoken German isn't fantastic, mostly due to disuse. I read and write it well enough, and I can understand speakers just fine, but my own speaking is broken and halting. Despite this, I asked the woman (in German), if she knew the anything about the castle. It's called the Hinterburg (the hind or rear castle) and is now state owned, and the sign I mentioned above game a few bulletpoints on a timeline, but no information of major substance.

The woman, somewhat shyly responded slowly that she couldn't remember; she said there were many castles nearby and she frequently confused their names and didn't want to give me bad information. I thanked her, and turned to snap a final picture as she began to walk away.

A creepy statue near the ruins, apparently by a local artisan

As I focused my camera I heard her speak behind me from maybe a dozen feet away. She told me to be careful, there were dangers in the woods. Only half listening (the camera I was using was a cheap digital I was having difficulties using) I asked her what kinds of things? Nonchalantly, she said "There are boars..." and a moment later in a much more icy voice added "...and other things." The way she said this took me off-guard, it had been said almost mischievously and I was taken aback. As I turned I asked in my halting German, "what things?". As I finally turned she was gone, nowhere to be seen. she had been speaking from only a few long strides behind me on the mud path, but now she was gone.

I ran down the trail several dozen yards in the direction she had been walking, but there was no sign of her. I ran in the other direction, and again no sign. This woman was probably in her 60's and had been using a hiking stick, and I doubt she could have outpaced me (I'm over 6 feet tall and a fairly experienced hiker). I feverishly searched both directions for several seconds, but there was nothing. It didn't look like any of the mud-filled footprints on the trail were fresh (except for mine), and I could see no branch paths or areas where the trail forked. The mist was thick. but I had good visibility for around a hundred meters, but she was just gone.

I ran. I'm not afraid to admit, but without thinking I panicked and bolted as quickly as I could back down the hill to the car. Arriving exhausted, I got in and started the car. And that's when I realized there were no other cars in the park, and none had been there when I had arrived an hour earlier. I peered at the trail map on the trail head (I was parked no more than a few feet from it), and it indicated this trail had no official branch paths and lopped back to my current location. I was alone.

And so I drove as quickly as I could on down the road as the rain picked back up. Did I see a Wild Woman? The Devil? A mean old lady messing with an American tourist? I don't know, and honestly, I don't want to know.

Happy Halloween!