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KARL KATZ - a mystery solved

 

 

Introduction

I have a book called Grimms' Fairy Tales. It has a green cover and 317 pages. It was published by Grosset & Dunlap. It has brittle, brown pages and everything about it seems very old. There is no publication date, but I think it can be dated to 1918-1919. A note on the title page says the book was "produced under wartime conditions, in full compliance with government regulations for the conservation of paper and other essential materials." I couldn't find any other books with a similar statement, but a web search does turn up WWI-era sheet music published in a reduced size and displaying a similar notice.

It has a story called Karl Katz which is Rip Van Winkle down cold. This intrigued me, and delving all the resources at hand, including the internet, I failed to find any mention of Washington Irving's "Rip Van Winkle" being a direct reworking of the Grimm Brothers' fairy tale "Karl Katz". I did find mentions of Rip Van Winkle being derived from German folk tales, and my Encyclopedia Americana says that Rip Van Winkle was taken from the German Peter Klaus, but didn't elaborate.

A little later I bought The Complete Grimm's Fairy Tales (Pantheon Books, 1944/1972). It has 861 pages and 210 stories. I read it with great enjoyment from beginning to end - but there was no Karl Katz, or Peter Klaus, to be found, under any title. (There is one very short story based on the same idea - the second of the three stories lumped together under the title The Elves. It directly follows the famous one about the shoemaker.) Likewise, there's no Karl Katz in collections of Grimm's Fairy Tales on the web.

This Karl Katz page has been up for almost four years (writing in July 2009) and has gotten a bit of attention. Before it went up, there was not a single web page referencing both "rip van winkle" and "karl katz". A year later there were 75. But no one has ever come forth with a solution to the mystery since the page first went up.

It can now be told: Karl Katz is not, and never was, a Grimm fairy tale.

 
In May 2009 I did a fresh web search for "karl katz". The whole story is given in an old book called German Popular Stories and Fairy Tales, of which there are at least four different printings reproduced in Google Books. My, my, how times do change.

The title page states:

German Popular Stories

and

Fairy Tales

As Told By Gammer Grethel

From The Collection Of MM. Grimm

Revised Translation

By Edgar Taylor

 

Google Books has printings dated 1864, 1872, 1888, and 1908. Actually, the title of the 1864 printing is German Fairy Tales and Popular Stories, but otherwise, the books appear to be identical, content-wise. Even the Prefaces are identical, all four beginning:

Nearly fifteen years ago the English public had its first regular introduction to the curious and amusing popular Tales circulating among the Germans, as collected, and so admirably edited, by the learned and excellent MM. Grimm, brethren not only in kindred but in literary taste and industry.

Another race of that class of readers [i.e., another generation of children] for whose entertainment such stories are more peculiarly adapted has since arisen, and the Translators have been induced once again to resort to the sources from whence they drew their former supply, for the purpose of re-arranging, revising, and adding to their budget, so as to produce it in a new form, and with the omission of those parts for which it is probable least interest will be felt.

 
What that tells me is that the first printing of this, what we might call the "totally revised" edition of German Popular Stories, came out around 1838, since the first volume of the first edition of German Popular Stories, which introduced Grimm tales in English, appeared in 1823. Due to the popularity of that, a second volume came out in 1826. ("Volume" is my terminology; the editors called it the second "series". I think it's easiest to use the same title German Popular Stories for the two original volumes, the totally revised edition, and all reissues and reprintings thereof, and add modifiers as needed.)

The Karl Katz in German Popular Stories is almost letter-for-letter identical to the one in my green book. (I found one alternate spelling, "clew" vs. "clue", and a few extra paragraph breaks in the green book.) Of interest is the lengthy footnote given on the first page of the one in German Popular Stories. It begins,

Freely translated from the "Ziegenhirt" of Ottmar's "Volks Sagen," or Hartz Legends.

The next paragraph says,

The author of The Sketch-Book [Washington Irving] made use of this tale in his "Rip van Winkle."

 
That sounds ambiguous, but "this tale" has to refer to Der Ziegenhirt (The Goatherd), not Karl Katz. Here is the chronology:

In 1800 "Der Ziegenhirt" appears in Ottmar's "Volks-Sagen".

In 1811 "Der Ziegenhirt" appears in Bu"sching's "Volks-Sagen, Ma"rchen und Legenden."

Between 1812 and 1819 the first two editions of both volumes of the Grimm tales appear - with no "Ziegenhirt" story in any of them.

In 1819 Washington Irving, who has been living in England since 1815, has "Rip Van Winkle" published in America.

In 1823 the first English translations of Grimm tales appear in a book called German Popular Stories.

In 1826 the second volume of German Popular Stories appears, and "Peter the Goatherd", based on "Der Ziegenhirt", is included.

About 1838, Edgar Taylor produces a second, totally revised, edition of German Popular Stories. He beefs up the "Peter the Goatherd" story even further into "Karl Katz".

 
So, besides being solved, the original Karl Katz mystery is flip-flopped. Instead of asking, "Where did Washington Irving hear of Karl Katz?", one might wonder, "Did Edgar Taylor's familiarity with Rip Van Winkle infuse Peter the Goatherd and Karl Katz to any extent?" We'll see in a section further down that it did, in the case of Karl Katz.

About the Ottmar vs. Bu"sching versions of "Der Ziegenhirt", they are for all intents and purposes identical, if I can trust my internet sources. I saw a slight difference in some punctuation, and, where Ottmar has "Marie", Bu"sching has "Maria".

Another interesting web find is the endnote to Irving's Rip Van Winkle story. I have about eight or so Rip Van Winkle's in my library, but none include the endnote. Irving, in his humorous fashion, strenuously denies that the story was suggested by tales of the Kyffha"user mountain (from whence Der Ziegenhirt story came), thereby trumpeting to all the world, of course it was!

 
When I first put Karl Katz up on the web, I thought I was making available a Grimm tale that had fallen through the cracks. A comment in the Foreword to the green book misled me into thinking Karl Katz was in the "original Household Tales" of the Grimm brothers, but dropped for later editions.

In any case, if it was never a Grimm fairy tale, and couldn't have been an inspiration for Washington Irving, it's a fine story known to many people, and nice to have in a basic text format.

Here, then, is Karl Katz, "freely translated" from Der Ziegenhirt (The Goatherd) of Ottmar's "Volks Sagen" by Edgar Taylor.


Karl Katz

In the midst of the Hartz forests there is a high mountain, of which the neighbors tell all sorts of stories: how the goblins and fairies dance on it by night; and how the old Emperor Redbeard holds his court there, and sits on his marble throne, with his long beard sweeping on the ground.

A great many years ago there lived in a village at the foot of this mountain, one Karl Katz. Now Karl was a goatherd, and every morning he drove his flock to feed upon the green spots that are here and there found on the mountain's side. In the evening he sometimes thought it too late to drive his charge home; so he used in such cases to shut it up in a spot amongst the woods, where the old ruined walls of some castle that had long ago been deserted were left standing, and were high enough to form a fold, in which he could count his goats, and let them rest for the night. One evening he found that the prettiest goat of his flock had vanished, soon after they were driven into this fold. He searched everywhere for it in vain; but, to his surprise and delight, when he counted his flock in the morning, what should he see, the first of the flock, but his lost goat! Again and again the same thing happened. At last he thought he would watch still more narrowly; and, having looked carefully over the old walls, he found a narrow doorway, through which it seemed that his favorite made her way. Karl followed, and found a path leading downwards through a cleft in the rocks. On he went, scrambling as well as he could, down the side of the rock, and at last came to the mouth of a cave, where he lost sight of his goat. Just then he saw that his faithful dog was not with him. He whistled, but no dog was there; and he was therefore forced to go into the cave and try to find his goat by himself.

He groped his way for a while, and at last came to a place where a little light found its way in; and there he wondered not a little to find his goat employing itself, very much at its ease in the cavern, in eating corn, which kept dropping from some place over its head. He went up and looked about him, to see where all this corn, that rattled about his ears like a hail-storm, could come from: but all overhead was dark, and he could find no clew to this strange business.

At last, as he stood listening, he thought he heard the neighing and stamping of horses. He listened again; it was plainly so; and after a while he was sure that horses were feeding above him, and that the corn fell from their mangers. What could these horses be, which were thus kept in the clefts of rocks, where none but the goat's foot ever trod? There must be people of some sort or other living here; and who could they be? and was it safe to trust himself in such company? Karl pondered awhile; but his wonder only grew greater and greater, when on a sudden he heard his own name, "Karl Katz!" echo through the cavern. He turned round, but could see nothing. "Karl Katz!" again sounded sharply in his ears; and soon out came a little dwarfish page with a high-peaked hat and a scarlet cloak, from a dark corner at one end of the cave.

The dwarf nodded, and beckoned him to follow. Karl thought he should first like to know a little about who it was that thus sought his company. He asked: but the dwarf shook his head, answering not a word, and again beckoned him to follow. He did so; and winding his way through ruins, he soon heard rolling overhead what sounded like peals of thunder, echoing among the rocks; the noise grew louder and louder as he went on, and at last he came to a courtyard surrounded by old ivy-grown walls. The spot seemed to be the bosom of a little valley; above rose on every hand high masses of rock; wide-branching trees threw their arms overhead, so that nothing but a glimmering twilight made its way through; and here, on the cool smooth-shaven turf, Karl saw twelve strange old figures amusing themselves very sedately with a game of nine-pins.

Their dress did not seem altogether strange to Karl, for in the church of the town, whither he went every week to market there was an old monument, with figures of queer old knights upon it, dressed in the very same fashion. Not a word fell from any of their lips. They moved about soberly and gravely, each taking his turn at the game; but the oldest of them ordered Karl Katz, by dumb signs, to busy himself in setting up the pins as they knocked them down. At first his knees trembled, as he hardly dared snatch a stolen sidelong glance at the long beards and old-fashioned dresses of the worthy knights; but he soon saw that as each knight played out his game he went to his seat, and there took a hearty draught at a flagon, which the dwarf kept filled, and which sent up the smell of the richest old wine.

Little by little Karl got bolder; and at last he plucked up his heart so far as to beg the dwarf, by signs, to let him, too, take his turn at the flagon. The dwarf gave it him with a grave bow, and Karl thought he never tasted anything half so good before. This gave him new strength for his work; and as often as he flagged at all, he turned to the same kind friend for help in his need.

Which was tired first, he or the knights, Karl never could tell; or whether the wine got the better of his head: but what he knew was, that sleep at last overpowered him, and that when he awoke he found himself stretched out upon the old spot within the walls where he had folded his flock, and saw that the bright sun was high up in the heavens. The same green turf was spread beneath, and the same tottering ivy-clad walls surrounded him. He rubbed his eyes and called his dog; but neither dog nor goat was to be seen; and when he looked about him again, the grass seemed to be longer under his feet than it was yesterday; and trees hung over his head, which he had either never seen before, or had quite forgotten. Shaking his head, and hardly knowing whether he was in his right mind, he got up and stretched himself: somehow or other his joints felt stiffer than they were. "It serves me right," said he; "this comes of sleeping out of one's own bed." Little by little he recollected his evening's sport, and licked his lips as he thought of the charming wine he had taken so much of. "But who," thought he, "can those people be, that come to this odd place to play nine-pins?"

His first step was to look for the doorway through which he had followed his goat; but to his astonishment, not the least trace of an opening of any sort was to be seen. There stood the wall, without chink or crack big enough for a rat to pass through. Again he paused and scratched his head. His hat was full of holes: "Why, it was new last Shrove-tide!" said he. By chance his eyes fell next on his shoes, which were almost new when he last left home; but now they looked so old, that they were likely to fall to pieces before he could get home. All his clothes seemed in the same sad plight. The more he looked, the more he pondered, the more he was at a loss to know what could have happened to him.

At length he turned round, and left the old walls to look for his flock. Slow and out of heart he wound his way among the mountain steeps, through paths where his flocks were wont to wander: still not a goat was to be seen. Again he whistled and called his dog, but no dog came. Below him in the plain lay the village where his home was; so at length he took the downward path, and set out with a heavy heart and a faltering step in search of his flock.

"Surely," said he, "I shall soon meet some neighbor, who can tell me where my goats are?" But the people who met him, as he drew near to the village, were all unknown to him. They were not even dressed as his neighbors were, and they seemed as if they hardly spoke the same tongue. When he eagerly asked each, as he came up, after his goats, they only stared at him and stroked their chins. At last he did the same too; and what was his wonder to find that his beard was grown at least a foot long! "The world," said he to himself, "is surely turned upside down, or if not, I must be bewitched": and yet he knew the mountain, as he turned round again, and looked back I on its woody heights; and he knew the houses and cottages also, with their little gardens, as he entered the village. All were in the places he had always known them in; and he heard some children, too (as a traveler that passed by was asking his way), call the village by the very same name he had always known it to bear.

Again he shook his head, and went straight through the village to his own cottage. Alas! it looked sadly out of repair; the windows were broken, the door off its hinges, and in the courtyard lay an unknown child, in a ragged dress, playing with a rough, toothless old dog, whom he thought he ought to know, but who snarled and barked in his face when he called to him. He went in at the open doorway; but he found all so dreary and empty, that he staggered out again like a drunken man, and called his wife and children loudly by their names: but no one heard, at least no one answered him.

A crowd of women and children soon flocked around the strange-looking man with the long gray beard; and all broke upon him at once with the questions, "Who are you?" "Who is it that you want?" It seemed to him so odd to ask other people, at his own door, after his wife and children, that, in order to get rid of the gaping crowd, he named the first man that came into his head.

"Hans the blacksmith," said he. Most held their tongues and stared; but at last an old woman said, "He went these seven years ago to a place that you will not reach to-day." "Fritz the tailor, then." "Heaven rest his soul!" said an old beldam upon crutches; "he has lain these ten years in a house that he'll never leave."

Karl Katz looked at the old woman again, and shuddered, as he knew her to be one of his old gossips; but saw she had a strangely altered face. All wish to ask further questions was gone; but at last a young woman made her way through the gaping throng, with a baby in her arms, and a little girl of about three years old clinging to her other hand. All three looked the very image of his own wife. "What is thy name?" asked he wildly. "Liese!" said she. "And your father's?" "Karl Katz! Heaven bless him!" said she; "but, poor man! he is lost and gone. It is now full twenty years since we sought for him day and night on the mountain. His dog and his flock came back, but he never was heard of any more. I was then seven years old."

Poor Karl could hold no longer: "I am Karl Katz, and no other!" said he, as he took the child from his daughter's arms and kissed it over and over again.

All stood gaping, and hardly knowing what to say or think, when old Stropken the schoolmaster hobbled by, and took a long and close look at him. "Karl Katz! Karl Katz!" said he slowly: "why it is Karl Katz sure enough! There is my own mark upon him; there is the scar over his right eye, that I gave him myself one day with my oak stick." Then several others also cried out, "Yes, it is! it is Karl Katz ! Welcome, neighbor, welcome home!" "But where," said or thought all, "can an honest steady fellow like you have been these twenty years?"

And now the whole village had flocked around; the children laughed, the dogs barked, and all were glad to see neighbor Karl home alive and well. As to where he had been for the twenty years, that was a part of the story at which Karl shrugged up his shoulders; for he never could very well explain it, and seemed to think the less that was said about it the better. But it was plain enough that what dwelt most on his memory was the noble wine that had tickled his mouth while the knights played their game of nine-pins.


Der Ziegenhirt (The Goatherd)

The breakthrough in my understanding of the volumes and editions of the Grimm Household Tales, and where Karl Katz fits in (he doesn't), is mainly thanks to Floyd Pace. Floyd modestly styles himself a "dabbler in Germanistics." He found my page and answered the questions there and generally set me straight.

What finally became clear to me is the publishing history of the Grimm tales during their lifetime. The first Volume of 86 tales was published in 1812. The second Volume of 70 additional tales was published in 1815. Don't be confused like I was; Volume 2 comprised completely new and different tales. It was not a second "edition" or revision of the 1812 Volume. The Grimm tales remained separated in these two Volumes through all editions in the Grimm brothers' lifetime, the final one coming out in 1857. By the last edition, Volume 1 still had 86 tales and Volume 2 had 114, for a total of 200 tales. (Volume 2 has an additional ten "Children's Legends.")

Something you might not notice if you curl up with a "Complete Grimm's" with all 200 tales is that there is something different about the final tale in each of the two, no longer differentiated, volumes. The Fox and the Geese (no. 86) and The Golden Key (no. 200) are both what might be described as unresolved, or open-ended, stories. A neat touch, I think.

I digress, but it's my web page, and there's no law saying I have to sound like a Time magazine article.

Floyd graciously translated Der Ziegenhirt found in Johann Gustav Bu"sching's Volks-Sagen, Ma"rchen und Legenden (Leipzig 1812, pg. 327-331.) His own translations, such as for the Grimms' Household Tales, are very literal. One reason is so that they correspond to the readings in German on Librovox.com. Being an opera fan always forced to look at English words that don't correspond to the words being sung in the original language, I approve completely. There's also something rather poetic about English words following the flow of another language. I also argue that getting familiar with that flow is a necessary step in learning that language.

We look forward to Floyd's translations of those Grimm tales that were dropped from one edition to the next, or underwent major revision, and also his clarification of the history of the contents of the two Household Tale volumes throughout the seven editions up to 1857 for the benefit of the English-speaking world.

For now, here is The Goatherd, rigorously translated from, and interleaved with, Der Ziegenhirt, by Floyd Pace. It's not so far-fetched to imagine that these were the very words that bounced around Washington Irving's brain and brought Rip Van Winkle into being.

 

DER ZIEGENHIRT
THE GOATHERD

Peter Klaus, ein Ziegenhirte aus Sittendorf, der seine Heerde am Kyffhäuser weidete, pflegte sie am Abend auf einem mit altem Gemäuer umschloßnen Platz ausruhen zu lassen, wo er die Musterung über sie hielt.
Peter Klaus, a goatherd from Sittendorf, who grazed his herd on the Kyffhäuser, was in the habit of letting them rest in the evening on a place with an old inclosing wall, where he held watch over them.

Seit einigen Tagen hatte er bemerkt, daß eine seiner schönsten Ziegen bald nachher, wenn er auf diesen Platz gekommen war, verschwand und erst spät der Heerde [Herde] nachkam.
Since a few days he had noticed, that one of his most beautiful goats soon after, when he had come on this place, disappeared and only later followed the herd.

Er beobachtete sie genauer und sah, daß sie durch eine Spalte des Gemäuers durchschlüpfte.
He observed her closer and saw, that she slipped through an opening in the wall.

Er wand sich ihr nach, und traf sie in einer Hölung [Aushölung], wo sie fröhlich die Haferkörner auflas, die einzeln von der Decke herabfielen.
He wreathed after her, and met her in a hollow, where she joyfully picked up the oat grains, that separately fell down from the ceiling.

Er blickte in die Höhe, schüttelte den Kopf über den Haferregen, konnte aber durch alles Hinstarren nichts weiter entdecken.
He looked in the height, shook the head over the oat rain, could however discover nothing more through all staring.

Endlich hörte er über sich das Wiehern und Stampfen einiger muthigen Hengste, deren Krippe der Hafer entfallen mußte.
Finally he heard over himself the whinnying and stamping of a few valiant stallions, from whose manger the oats must have escaped.

So stand der Ziegenhirte da, staunend über die Pferde in einem ganz unbewohnten Berge.
So the goatherd stood there, amazed over the horses in a completely abandoned fort*.

Da kam ein Knappe und winkte schweigend ihm zu folgen.
There a squire came and waved silently for him to follow.

Peter stieg einige Stufen in die Höhe und kam, über einen ummauerten Hof, an eine ertiefung [Vertiefung], die ringsum von hohen Felsenwänden umschlossen war, in welche, durch überhangende dickbelaubte Zweige, einiges Dämmerlicht herab fiel.
Peter climbed a few steps up and came, through a walled around court, to a deepening, that was enclosed around with high rockwalls, in which, through overhanging thickly leaved branches, a little twilight fell down into.

Hier fand er, auf einem gut geebneten, kühlen Rasenplatze, zwölf ernste Rittermänner, deren keiner ein Wort sprach, beim Kegelspiel.
Here he found, on a well smoothed out, cool grass place, twelve serious knights, of whom none spoke a word, at ninepins.

Peter wurde schweigend angestellt, um die Kegel aufzurichten.
Peter was silently employed to set up the pins.

Anfangs that [tat] er dies mit schlotternden Knien, wenn er, mit halbverstohlenem Blick, die langen Bärte und die aufgeschlitzten Wänste [Bauch] der edeln Ritter betrachtete.
In the beginning he did this with shaking knees, when he noticed with half furtive looks, the long beards and the slashed open bellies of the noble knights.

Allmälig [allmählich] aber machte die Gewöhnung ihn dreister, er öbersah alles um sich her mit festerem Blick und wagte es endlich, aus einer Kanne zu trinken, die neben ihm hingesetzt war und aus welcher der Wein ihm lieblich entgegenduftete.
Gradually the familiarization made him more impudent, he observed all around himself with a more intensive look and finally dared it, to drink from a mug, that was set next to him and from which the smell of the wine came to him sweetly.

Er fühlte sich wie neu belebt und so oft er Ermüdung spürte, holte er sich aus der nie versiegenden Kanne neue Kräfte.
He felt himself newly enlivened and so often as he felt fatigue, he received new strength from the never empty mug.

Doch endlich übermant' ihn der Schlaf.
Yet finally sleep overcame him.

Beim Erwachen fand er sich auf dem umschloßnen grünen Platz wieder, wo er seine Ziegen ausruhen zu lassen pflegte.
With awakening he found himself again on the enclosed green place, where he normally let his goats rest.

Er rieb die Augen, konnte aber weder Hund noch Ziegen entdecken, staunte über das hochaufgeschoß'ne Gras und über Sträucher und Bäume, die er vorher hier noch nie bemerkt hatte.
He rubbed the eyes, but could neither dog nor goats discover, was astonished over the tall grass and over shrubbery and trees, that he had never noticed here before.

Kopfschüttelnd ging er weiter, alle die Wege und Stege hindurch, die er täglich mit seiner Heerde zu durchirren pflegte; aber nirgends sah er eine Spur von seinen Ziegen.
Headshaking he went further, forth through all of the ways and bridges, that he daily with his herd was used to wander through; but he saw nowhere a trace of his goats.

Unter sich sah er Sittendorf, und endlich stieg er, mit beschleunigtem Schritte, herab, um hier nach seiner Heerde zu fragen.
Below he saw Sittendorf, and finally he climbed down, with hasty steps, in order to ask about his herd here.

Die Leute, die ihm vor dem Dorfe begegneten, waren ihm alle unbekannt, waren anders gekleidet und sprachen nicht so, als seine Bekannten; auch starrten sie ihn alle an, wenn er nach seinen Ziegen fragte und faßten sich an das Kinn.
The people, who encountered him before the village, were all unknown to him, were differently clothed and spoke not so, as his acquaintances; also they all stared at him, when he asked about his goats and rubbed themselves on the chin.

Endlich that er, fast unwillkührlich, eben das und fand, zu seinem Erstaunen, seinen Bart um einen Fuß verlängert.
Finally he did, almost reluctantly, just that and found, to his astonishment his beard about a foot longer.

Er fing an, sich und die ganze Welt um sich her für verzaubert zu halten; und doch kannte er den Berg, den er herabgestiegen war, wohl als den Kyffhäuser, auch waren ihm die Häuser mit ihren Gärten und Vorplätzen alle wohl bekannt.
He began, to believe himself and the whole world around himself to be enchanted; And yet he knew the mountain, which he had climbed down from, well as the Kyffhäuser, also were the houses with their gardens and front yards all well known.

Auch nannten mehrere Knaben, auf die Frage eines Vorbeireisenden, den Namen: Sittendorf.
Also named several youths, on the question by a passing traveler, the name: Sittendorf.

Kopfschüttelnd ging er in das Dorf hinein und nach seiner Hütte.
He went headshaking forth into the village and to his hut.

Er fand sie sehr verfallen, und vor ihr lag ein fremder Hirtenknabe in zerrißnem Kittel, neben einem abgezehrten Hunde, der ihn zähnefletschend angrinzte, als er ihn rief.
He found it very much fallen into disrepair, and before it lay a strange shepherd boy in torn frock, next to an emaciated dog, who showed his teeth, as he called him.

Er ging durch die Oeffnung, die sonst eine Thür verschloß, hinein, fand aber alles so wüste und leer, daß er, einem Betrunkenem gleich, aus der Hinterpforte wieder hinaus wankte, und Frau und Kinder bei ihrem Namen rief.
He went through the opening, that otherwise a door locked up, inside, found however all so desolate and empty, that he, like a drunkard, from the back door staggered out again, and called by their names wife and children.

Aber keiner hörte, und keine Stimme antwortete ihm.
But no one heard, and no voice answered him.

Bald umdrängten den suchenden Mann mit dem langen, eisgrauen Bart Weiber und Kinder und fragten ihn um die Wette: was er suche?
Soon women and children crowded around the searching man with the long, ice gray beard and asked him intently: what he sought?

Andre, vor seinem eignen Hause, nach seiner Frau oder seinen Kindern zu fragen, oder gar nach sich selbst, schien ihm so sonderbar, daß er,um die Fragenden los zu werden, die nächsten Namen nannte, die ihm einfielen.
Others, before his own house asking about his wife or his children, or about him himself, seemed to him so strange, that he, in order to become free of the inquirers, the next names called, that occurred to him.

»Kurt Steffen!«
"Kurt Steffen!"

Die meisten schwiegen und sahen sich an, endlich sagte eine bejahrte Frau: Seit zwölf Jahren wohnt er unter der Sachsenburg, dahin werdet ihr heute nicht kommen.
Most stayed silent and looked at each other, finally an aged woman said: For twelve years he lives under the Sachsenburg, there you will not go today.

»Velten Meier!«
"Velten Meier!"

Gott habe ihn selig! antwortete ein altes Mütterchen an der Krücke, der liegt schon seit funfzehn Jahren in dem Hause, das er nimmer verläßt.
God bless him! Answered an old little mother on the crutch, he lies yet for fifteen years in the house, that he will never leave.

Er erkannte, zusammenschaudernd, seine plötzlich alt gewordene Nachbarinnen; aber, ihm war die Lust vergangen, weiter zu fragen.
He recognized, shivering, his suddenly grown old neighbor, but for him the desire was past, to ask further.

Da drängte sich durch die neugierigen Gaffer ein junges, rasches Weib, mit einem einjährigen Knaben auf dem Arm, und einem vierjährigen Mädchen an der Hand, die alle drei seiner Frau wie aus den Augen geschnitten waren.
There a young quick woman with a one year boy on the arm and a four year maiden on the hand pressed herself through the curious onlookers, all three were a picture of his wife.

»Wie heißt ihr?« fragte er erstaunend.
"How are you called?" he asked astonished.

»Maria.«
"Maria."

»Und euer Vater?«
"And your father?"

»Gott habe ihn selig! Peter Klaus; es sind nun zwanzig Jahr, daß wir ihn Tag und Nacht suchten auf dem Kyffhäuser, da die Heerde ohne ihn zurückkam; ich war damals sieben Jahr alt.«
"God bless him! Peter Klaus; it is now twenty years, that we searched for him day and night on the Kyffhäuser, because the herd came back without him; I was at that time seven years old."

Länger konnte sich der Ziegenhirt nicht halten.
The goatherd could no longer retain himself.

»Ich bin Peter Klaus, - rief er, - und kein anderer!« und nahm seiner Tochter den Knaben vom Arm.
"I am Peter Klaus, - he cried, - and no other!" and took the boy from the arm of his daughter.

Alle standen wie versteinert, bis endlich eine Stimme, und noch eine Stimme rief:
All stood like made of stone, until finally one voice, and then another voice cried:

»Ja, das ist Peter Klaus! Willkommen Nachbar, nach zwanzig Jahren willkommen!«
"Yes, that is Peter Klaus! Welcome neighbor, after twenty years welcome!"

 
*Grimms Deutscheswörterbuch: war wie schützender Berg und Turm.


The Goatherd (Der Ziegenhirt) and Peter the Goatherd interlaced

In the footnote to Peter the Goatherd (1826), Edgar Taylor says this story is the "Ziegenhirt" (emphasis mine). Here you can see how faithful he was to the original, even while working up the original 856 German words into 1422 English words.

Peter the Goatherd can be found in Google Books in an 1868 reissue, in a single volume, of the two original volumes of German Popular Stories (1823-26).

Z: indicates The Goatherd (Der Ziegenhhirt).
P: indicates Peter the Goatherd. (Purple for Peter.)

 

THE GOATHERD (DER ZIEGENHIRT)
PETER THE GOATHERD

Z: (no introduction)
P: In the wilds of the Hartz Forest there is a high mountain, where the fairies and goblins dance by night, and where they say the great Emperor Frederic Barbarossa still holds his court among the caverns. Now and then he shows himself and punishes those whom he dislikes, or gives some rich gift to the lucky wight whom he takes it into his head to befriend. He sits on a throne of marble with his red beard sweeping on the ground, and once or twice in a long course of years rouses himself for a while from the trance in which he is buried, but soon falls again into his former forgetfulness. Strange chances have befallen many who have strayed within the range of his court; you shall hear one of them.

Z: Peter Klaus, a goatherd from Sittendorf,
P: A great many years ago there lived in the village at the foot of the mountain, one Peter, a goatherd.

Z: who grazed his herd on the Kyffhäuser,
P: Every morning he drove his flock to feed upon the green spots that are here and there found on the mountain's side,

Z: was in the habit of letting them rest in the evening on a place with an old inclosing wall, where he held watch over them.
P: and in the evening he sometimes thought it too far to drive his charge home, so he used in such cases to shut it up in a spot amongst the woods, where an old ruined wall was left standing, high enough to form a fold, in which he could count his goats and rest in peace for the night.

Z: Since a few days he had noticed, that one of his most beautiful goats soon after, when he had come on this place, disappeared and only later followed the herd.
P: One evening he found that the prettiest goat of his flock had vanished soon after they were driven into this fold, but was there again in the morning.

Again and again he watched, and the same strange thing happened.

Z: He observed her closer and saw, that she slipped through an opening in the wall.
P: He thought he would look still more narrowly, and soon found a cleft in the old wall, through which it seemed that his favourite made her way.

Z: He wreathed after her, and met her in a hollow, where she joyfully picked up the oat grains, that separately fell down from the ceiling.
P: Peter followed, scrambling as well as he could down the side of the rock, and wondered not a little, on overtaking his goat, to find it employing itself very much at its ease in a cavern, eating corn, which kept dropping from some place above.

Z: He looked in the height, shook the head over the oat rain, could however discover nothing more through all staring.
P: He went into the cavern and looked about him to see where all this corn, that rattled about his ears like a hail-storm, could come from: but all was dark, and he could find no clue to this strange business.

Z: Finally he heard over himself the whinnying and stamping of a few valiant stallions, from whose manger the oats must have escaped. So the goatherd stood there, amazed over the horses in a completely abandoned fort.
P: At last, as he stood listening, he thought he heard the neighing and stamping of horses. He listened again; it was plainly so; and after a while he was sure that horses were feeding above him, and that the corn fell from their mangers. What could these horses be, which were thus kept in a mountain where none but the goat's foot ever trod? Peter pondered a while; but his wonder only grew greater and greater,

Z: There a squire came and waved silently for him to follow.
P: when on a sudden a little page came forth and beckoned him to follow;

Z: Peter climbed a few steps up and came, through a walled around court, to a deepening, that was enclosed around with high rockwalls, in which, through overhanging thickly leaved branches, a little twilight fell down into.
P: he did so, and came at last to a courtyard surrounded by an old wall. The spot seemed the bosom of the valley; above rose on every hand high masses of rock; wide branching trees threw their arms over head, so that nothing but a glimmering twilight made its way through;

Z: Here he found, on a well smoothed out, cool grass place, twelve serious knights, of whom none spoke a word, at ninepins.
P: and here, on the cool smooth shaven turf, were twelve old knights, who looked very grave and sober, but were amusing themselves with a game of nine-pins. Not a word fell from their lips;

Z: Peter was silently employed to set up the pins.
P: but they ordered Peter by dumb signs to busy himself in setting up the pins, as they knocked them down.

Z: In the beginning he did this with shaking knees, when he noticed with half furtive looks, the long beards and the slashed open bellies of the noble knights.
P: At first his knees trembled, as he dared to snatch a stolen sidelong glance at the long beards and old-fashioned dresses of the worthy knights.

Z: Gradually the familiarization made him more impudent. He observed all around himself with a more intensive look and finally dared it, to drink from a mug, that was set next to him and from which the smell of the wine came to him sweetly.
P: Little by little, however, he grew bolder; and at last he plucked up his heart so far as to take his turn in the draught at the can, which stood beside him and sent up the smell of the richest old wine.

Z: He felt himself newly enlivened and so often as he felt fatigue, he received new strength from the never empty mug.
P: This gave him new strength for his work; and as often as he flagged at all, he turned to the same kind friend for help in his need.

Z: Yet finally sleep overcame him.
P: Sleep at last overpowered him;

Z: With awakening he found himself again on the enclosed green place, where he normally let his goats rest.
P: and when he awoke he found himself stretched out upon the old spot where he had folded his flock. The same green turf was spread beneath, and the same tottering walls surrounded him;

Z: He rubbed the eyes, but could neither dog nor goats discover, was astonished over the tall grass and over shrubbery and trees, that he had never noticed here before.
P: he rubbed his eyes, but neither dog nor goat was to be seen, and when he had looked about him again the grass seemed to be longer under his feet, and trees hung over his head, which he had either never seen before or had forgotten.

Z: Headshaking he went further, forth through all of the ways and bridges, that he daily with his herd was used to wander through; but he saw nowhere a trace of his goats.
P: Shaking his head, and hardly knowing whether he were in his right mind, he wound his way among the mountain steeps, through paths where his flocks were wont to wander; but still not a goat was to be seen.

Z: Below he saw Sittendorf, and finally he climbed down, with hasty steps, in order to ask about his herd here.
P: Below him in the plain lay the village where his home was, and at length he took the downward path, and set out with a heavy heart in search of his flock.

Z: The people, who encountered him before the village, were all unknown to him, were differently clothed and spoke not so, as his acquaintances;
P: The people who met him as he drew near to the village were all unknown to him; they were not even drest as his neighbours were, and they seemed as if they hardly spoke the same tongue;

Z: also they all stared at him, when he asked about his goats and rubbed themselves on the chin. Finally he did, almost reluctantly, just that and found, to his astonishment his beard about a foot longer.
P: and when he eagerly asked after his goats, they only stared at him and stroked their chins. At last he did the same too, and what was his wonder to find that his beard was grown at least a foot long!

Z: He began, to believe himself and the whole world around himself to be enchanted; And yet he knew the mountain, which he had climbed down from, well as the Kyffhäuser, also were the houses with their gardens and front yards all well known.
P: The world, thought he now to himself, is turned over, or at any rate bewitched; and yet he knew the mountain (as he turned round to gaze upon its woody heights); and he knew the houses and cottages also, with their little gardens, all of which were in the same places as he had always known them;

Z: Also named several youths, on the question by a passing traveler, the name: Sittendorf.
P: he heard some children, too, call the village by its old name, as a traveller that passed by was asking his way.

Z: He went headshaking forth into the village and to his hut.
P: Again he shook his head and went straight through the village to his own cottage.

Z: He found it very much fallen into disrepair, and before it lay a strange shepherd boy in torn frock, next to an emaciated dog, who showed his teeth, as he called him.
P: Alas! it looked sadly out of repair; and in the court-yard lay an unknown child, in a ragged dress, by the side of a rough, toothless dog, whom he thought he ought to know, but who snarled and barked in his face when he called him to him.

Z: He went through the opening, that otherwise a door locked up, inside, found however all so desolate and empty, that he, like a drunkard, from the back door staggered out again, and called by their names wife and children. But no one heard, and no voice answered him.
P: He went in at an opening in the wall where a door had once stood, but found all so dreary and empty that he staggered out again like a drunken man, and called his wife and children loudly by their names; but no one heard, at least no one answered him.

Z: Soon women and children crowded around the searching man with the long, ice gray beard and asked him intently: what he sought? Others, before his own house asking about his wife or his children, or about him himself,
P: A crowd of women and children soon flocked around the long gray bearded man, and all broke upon him at once with the questions, "Who are you?" "Whom do you want?"

Z: seemed to him so strange, that he, in order to become free of the inquirers, the next names called, that occurred to him. "Kurt Steffen!"
P: It seemed to him so odd to ask other people at his own door after his wife and children, that in order to get rid of the crowd he named the first man that came into his head; "Hans, the blacksmith!" said he.

Z: Most stayed silent and looked at each other, finally an aged woman said: For twelve years he lives under the Sachsenburg, there you will not go today.
P: Most held their tongues and stared, but at last an old woman said, "He went these seven years ago to a place that you will not reach to-day."

Z: "Velten Meier!"
P: "Prank the tailor, then!"

Z: God bless him! Answered an old little mother on the crutch, he lies yet for fifteen years in the house, that he will never leave.
P: "Heaven rest his soul!" said an old beldame upon crutches; "he has laid these ten years in a house that he'll never leave."

Z: He recognized, shivering, his suddenly grown old neighbor, but for him the desire was past, to ask further.
P: Peter looked at the old woman, and shuddered as he saw her to be one of his old friends, only with a strangely altered face. All wish to ask further questions was gone;

Z: There a young quick woman with a one year boy on the arm and a four year maiden on the hand pressed herself through the curious onlookers, all three were a picture of his wife.
P: but at last a young woman made her way through the gaping throng with a baby in her arms, and a little girl about three years old clinging to her other hand; all three looked the very image of his wife.

Z: "How are you called?" he asked astonished.
P: "What is thy name?" asked he wildly.

Z: "Maria."
P: "Mary."

Z: "And your father?"
P: "And your father's?"

Z: "God bless him! Peter Klaus; it is now twenty years, that we searched for him day and night on the Kyffhäuser, because the herd came back without him; I was at that time seven years old."
P: "Heaven bless him! Peter! It is now twenty years since we sought him day and night on the mountain; his flock came back, but he never was heard of any more. I was then seven years old."

Z: The goatherd could no longer retain himself. "I am Peter Klaus, - he cried, - and no other!" and took the boy from the arm of his daughter.
P: The goatherd could hold no longer. "I am Peter," cried he; "I am Peter, and no other;" as he took the child from his daughter's arms and kissed it.

Z: All stood like made of stone, until finally one voice, and then another voice cried: "Yes, that is Peter Klaus! Welcome neighbor, after twenty years welcome!"
P: All stood gaping, and not knowing what to say or think, till at length one voice was heard, "Why it is Peter!" and then several others cried, "Yes, it is, it is Peter! Welcome neighbour, welcome home, after twenty long years."


Peter the Goatherd and Karl Katz interlaced

In the footnote to Karl Katz (c. 1838), Edgar Taylor says the story is freely translated from the "Ziegenhirt" (emphasis mine). I doubt that Taylor actually had need to refer back to Der Ziegenhirt in working up Karl Katz. Surely he sat down with his own Peter the Goatherd and, with visions of Rip Van Winkle dancing in his mind, worked Peter up into the new, improved Karl Katz, boosting the word count from 1422 to 2269 (for the mathematically inclined.) We'll take a closer look at the Rip Van Winkle connection further down.

Here are the two stories intertwined for ease of comparison. Keep in mind what Taylor said in his Preface to the totally revised German Popular Stories (c. 1838): "...the Translators have been induced once again to resort to the sources from whence they drew their former supply, for the purpose of re-arranging, revising, and adding to their budget, so as to produce it in a new form, and with the omission of those parts for which it is probable least interest will be felt."

As already mentioned, Karl Katz can be found in Google Books in various printings of German Popular Stories from 1864 to 1908.

P: indicates Peter the Goatherd.
K: indicates Karl Katz. (Green for Karl since I was introduced to him in my old, green Grimms' Fairy Tales book.)

 

PETER THE GOATHERD
KARL KATZ

P: In the wilds of the Hartz Forest there is a high mountain, where the fairies and goblins dance by night,
K: In the midst of the Hartz forests there is a high mountain, of which the neighbors tell all sorts of stories: how the goblins and fairies dance on it by night;

P: and where they say the great Emperor Frederic Barbarossa still holds his court among the caverns. Now and then he shows himself and punishes those whom he dislikes, or gives some rich gift to the lucky wight whom he takes it into his head to befriend. He sits on a throne of marble with his red beard sweeping on the ground,
K: and how the old Emperor Redbeard holds his court there, and sits on his marble throne, with his long beard sweeping on the ground.

P: and once or twice in a long course of years rouses himself for a while from the trance in which he is buried, but soon falls again into his former forgetfulness. Strange chances have befallen many who have strayed within the range of his court; you shall hear one of them.

A great many years ago there lived in the village at the foot of the mountain, one Peter, a goatherd.
K: A great many years ago there lived in a village at the foot of this mountain, one Karl Katz. Now Karl was a goatherd,

P: Every morning he drove his flock to feed upon the green spots that are here and there found on the mountain's side,
K: and every morning he drove his flock to feed upon the green spots that are here and there found on the mountain's side.

P: and in the evening he sometimes thought it too far to drive his charge home, so he used in such cases to shut it up in a spot amongst the woods, where an old ruined wall was left standing, high enough to form a fold, in which he could count his goats and rest in peace for the night.
K: In the evening he sometimes thought it too late to drive his charge home; so he used in such cases to shut it up in a spot amongst the woods, where the old ruined walls of some castle that had long ago been deserted were left standing, and were high enough to form a fold, in which he could count his goats, and let them rest for the night.

P: One evening he found that the prettiest goat of his flock had vanished soon after they were driven into this fold, but was there again in the morning.
K: One evening he found that the prettiest goat of his flock had vanished soon after they were driven into this fold. He searched everywhere for it in vain; but, to his surprise and delight, when he counted his flock in the morning, what should he see, the first of the flock, but his lost goat!

P: Again and again he watched, and the same strange thing happened.
K: Again and again the same thing happened.

P: He thought he would look still more narrowly, and soon found a cleft in the old wall, through which it seemed that his favourite made her way.
K: At last he thought he would watch still more narrowly; and, having looked carefully over the old walls, he found a narrow doorway, through which it seemed that his favorite made her way.

P: Peter followed, scrambling as well as he could down the side of the rock,
K: Karl followed, and found a path leading downwards through a cleft in the rocks.

On he went, scrambling as well as he could, down the side of the rock, and at last came to the mouth of a cave, where he lost sight of his goat. Just then he saw that his faithful dog was not with him. He whistled, but no dog was there; and he was therefore forced to go into the cave and try to find his goat by himself. He groped his way for a while, and at last came to a place where a little light found its way in;

P: and wondered not a little, on overtaking his goat, to find it employing itself very much at its ease in a cavern, eating corn, which kept dropping from some place above.
K: and there he wondered not a little to find his goat employing itself, very much at its ease in the cavern, in eating corn, which kept dropping from some place over its head.

P: He went into the cavern and looked about him to see where all this corn, that rattled about his ears like a hail-storm, could come from: but all was dark, and he could find no clue to this strange business.
K: He went up and looked about him, to see where all this corn, that rattled about his ears like a hail-storm, could come from: but all overhead was dark, and he could find no clue to this strange business.

P: At last, as he stood listening, he thought he heard the neighing and stamping of horses.
K: At last, as he stood listening, he thought he heard the neighing and stamping of horses.

P: He listened again; it was plainly so; and after a while he was sure that horses were feeding above him, and that the corn fell from their mangers.
K: He listened again; it was plainly so; and after a while he was sure that horses were feeding above him, and that the corn fell from their mangers.

P: What could these horses be, which were thus kept in a mountain where none but the goat's foot ever trod?
K: What could these horses be, which were thus kept in the clefts of rocks, where none but the goat's foot ever trod?

There must be people of some sort or other living here; and who could they be? and was it safe to trust himself in such company?

P: Peter pondered a while; but his wonder only grew greater and greater,
K: Karl pondered awhile; but his wonder only grew greater and greater,

P: when on a sudden a little page came forth and beckoned him to follow;
K: when on a sudden he heard his own name, "Karl Katz!" echo through the cavern. He turned round, but could see nothing. "Karl Katz!" again sounded sharply in his ears; and soon out came a little dwarfish page with a high-peaked hat and a scarlet cloak, from a dark corner at one end of the cave. The dwarf nodded, and beckoned him to follow.

Karl thought he should first like to know a little about who it was that thus sought his company. He asked: but the dwarf shook his head, answering not a word, and again beckoned him to follow.

P: he did so, and came at last to a courtyard surrounded by an old wall.
K: He did so; and winding his way through ruins, he soon heard rolling overhead what sounded like peals of thunder, echoing among the rocks; the noise grew louder and louder as he went on, and at last he came to a courtyard surrounded by old ivy-grown walls.

P: The spot seemed the bosom of the valley; above rose on every hand high masses of rock; wide branching trees threw their arms over head, so that nothing but a glimmering twilight made its way through;
K: The spot seemed to be the bosom of a little valley; above rose on every hand high masses of rock; wide-branching trees threw their arms overhead, so that nothing but a glimmering twilight made its way through;

P: and here, on the cool smooth shaven turf, were twelve old knights, who looked very grave and sober, but were amusing themselves with a game of nine-pins.
K: and here, on the cool smooth-shaven turf, Karl saw twelve strange old figures amusing themselves very sedately with a game of nine-pins.

Their dress did not seem altogether strange to Karl, for in the church of the town, whither he went every week to market there was an old monument, with figures of queer old knights upon it, dressed in the very same fashion.

P: Not a word fell from their lips;
K: Not a word fell from any of their lips. They moved about soberly and gravely, each taking his turn at the game;

P: but they ordered Peter by dumb signs to busy himself in setting up the pins, as they knocked them down.
K: but the oldest of them ordered Karl Katz, by dumb signs, to busy himself in setting up the pins as they knocked them down.

P: At first his knees trembled, as he dared to snatch a stolen sidelong glance at the long beards and old-fashioned dresses of the worthy knights.
K: At first his knees trembled, as he hardly dared snatch a stolen sidelong glance at the long beards and old-fashioned dresses of the worthy knights;

but he soon saw that as each knight played out his game he went to his seat, and there took a hearty draught at a flagon, which the dwarf kept filled, and which sent up the smell of the richest old wine.

P: Little by little, however, he grew bolder; and at last he plucked up his heart so far as to take his turn in the draught at the can, which stood beside him and sent up the smell of the richest old wine.
K: Little by little Karl got bolder; and at last he plucked up his heart so far as to beg the dwarf, by signs, to let him, too, take his turn at the flagon. The dwarf gave it him with a grave bow, and Karl thought he never tasted anything half so good before.

P: This gave him new strength for his work; and as often as he flagged at all, he turned to the same kind friend for help in his need.
K: This gave him new strength for his work; and as often as he flagged at all, he turned to the same kind friend for help in his need. Which was tired first, he or the knights, Karl never could tell; or whether the wine got the better of his head: but what he knew was, that

P: Sleep at last overpowered him; and when he awoke he found himself stretched out upon the old spot where he had folded his flock.
K: sleep at last overpowered him, and that when he awoke he found himself stretched out upon the old spot within the walls where he had folded his flock, and saw that the bright sun was high up in the heavens.

P: The same green turf was spread beneath, and the same tottering walls surrounded him;
K: The same green turf was spread beneath, and the same tottering ivy-clad walls surrounded him.

P: he rubbed his eyes, but neither dog nor goat was to be seen, and when he had looked about him again the grass seemed to be longer under his feet, and trees hung over his head, which he had either never seen before or had forgotten.
K: He rubbed his eyes and called his dog; but neither dog nor goat was to be seen; and when he looked about him again, the grass seemed to be longer under his feet than it was yesterday; and trees hung over his head, which he had either never seen before, or had quite forgotten.

P: Shaking his head, and hardly knowing whether he were in his right mind, he wound his way among the mountain steeps, through paths where his flocks were wont to wander; but still not a goat was to be seen.
K: Shaking his head, and hardly knowing whether he was in his right mind, he got up and stretched himself: somehow or other his joints felt stiffer than they were. "It serves me right," said he; "this comes of sleeping out of one's own bed." Little by little he recollected his evening's sport, and licked his lips as he thought of the charming wine he had taken so much of. "But who," thought he, "can those people be, that come to this odd place to play nine-pins?" His first step was to look for the doorway through which he had followed his goat; but to his astonishment, not the least trace of an opening of any sort was to be seen. There stood the wall, without chink or crack big enough for a rat to pass through. Again he paused and scratched his head. His hat was full of holes: "Why, it was new last Shrove-tide!" said he. By chance his eyes fell next on his shoes, which were almost new when he last left home; but now they looked so old, that they were likely to fall to pieces before he could get home. All his clothes seemed in the same sad plight. The more he looked, the more he pondered, the more he was at a loss to know what could have happened to him. At length he turned round, and left the old walls to look for his flock. Slow and out of heart he wound his way among the mountain steeps, through paths where his flocks were wont to wander: still not a goat was to be seen.

Again he whistled and called his dog, but no dog came.

P: Below him in the plain lay the village where his home was, and at length he took the downward path, and set out with a heavy heart in search of his flock.
K: Below him in the plain lay the village where his home was; so at length he took the downward path, and set out with a heavy heart and a faltering step in search of his flock.

"Surely," said he, "I shall soon meet some neighbor, who can tell me where my goats are?"

P: The people who met him as he drew near to the village were all unknown to him; they were not even drest as his neighbours were, and they seemed as if they hardly spoke the same tongue;
K: But the people who met him, as he drew near to the village, were all unknown to him. They were not even dressed as his neighbors were, and they seemed as if they hardly spoke the same tongue.

P: and when he eagerly asked after his goats, they only stared at him and stroked their chins. At last he did the same too, and what was his wonder to find that his beard was grown at least a foot long!
K: When he eagerly asked each, as he came up, after his goats, they only stared at him and stroked their chins. At last he did the same too; and what was his wonder to find that his beard was grown at least a foot long!

P: The world, thought he now to himself, is turned over, or at any rate bewitched; and yet he knew the mountain (as he turned round to gaze upon its woody heights);
K: "The world," said he to himself, "is surely turned upside down, or if not, I must be bewitched": and yet he knew the mountain, as he turned round again, and looked back on its woody heights;

P: and he knew the houses and cottages also, with their little gardens, all of which were in the same places as he had always known them;
K: and he knew the houses and cottages also, with their little gardens, as he entered the village. All were in the places he had always known them in;

P: he heard some children, too, call the village by its old name, as a traveller that passed by was asking his way.
K: and he heard some children, too (as a traveler that passed by was asking his way), call the village by the very same name he had always known it to bear.

P: Again he shook his head and went straight through the village to his own cottage.
K: Again he shook his head, and went straight through the village to his own cottage.

P: Alas! it looked sadly out of repair; and in the court-yard lay an unknown child, in a ragged dress, by the side of a rough, toothless dog, whom he thought he ought to know, but who snarled and barked in his face when he called him to him.
K: Alas! it looked sadly out of repair; the windows were broken, the door off its hinges, and in the courtyard lay an unknown child, in a ragged dress, playing with a rough, toothless old dog, whom he thought he ought to know, but who snarled and barked in his face when he called to him.

P: He went in at an opening in the wall where a door had once stood, but found all so dreary and empty that he staggered out again like a drunken man, and called his wife and children loudly by their names; but no one heard, at least no one answered him.
K: He went in at the open doorway; but he found all so dreary and empty, that he staggered out again like a drunken man, and called his wife and children loudly by their names: but no one heard, at least no one answered him.

P: A crowd of women and children soon flocked around the long gray bearded man, and all broke upon him at once with the questions, "Who are you?" "Whom do you want?"
K: A crowd of women and children soon flocked around the strange-looking man with the long gray beard; and all broke upon him at once with the questions, "Who are you?" "Who is it that you want?"

P: It seemed to him so odd to ask other people at his own door after his wife and children, that in order to get rid of the crowd he named the first man that came into his head; "Hans, the blacksmith!" said he.
K: It seemed to him so odd to ask other people, at his own door, after his wife and children, that, in order to get rid of the gaping crowd, he named the first man that came into his head. "Hans the blacksmith," said he.

P: Most held their tongues and stared, but at last an old woman said, "He went these seven years ago to a place that you will not reach to-day."
K: Most held their tongues and stared; but at last an old woman said, "He went these seven years ago to a place that you will not reach to-day."

P: "Prank the tailor, then!"
K: "Fritz the tailor, then."

P: "Heaven rest his soul!" said an old beldame upon crutches; "he has laid these ten years in a house that he'll never leave."
K: "Heaven rest his soul!" said an old beldam upon crutches; "he has lain these ten years in a house that he'll never leave."

P: Peter looked at the old woman, and shuddered as he saw her to be one of his old friends, only with a strangely altered face.
K: Karl Katz looked at the old woman again, and shuddered, as he knew her to be one of his old gossips; but saw she had a strangely altered face.

P: All wish to ask further questions was gone; but at last a young woman made her way through the gaping throng with a baby in her arms, and a little girl about three years old clinging to her other hand; all three looked the very image of his wife.
K: All wish to ask further questions was gone; but at last a young woman made her way through the gaping throng, with a baby in her arms, and a little girl of about three years old clinging to her other hand. All three looked the very image of his own wife.

P: "What is thy name?" asked he wildly.
K: "What is thy name?" asked he wildly.

P: "Mary."
K: "Liese!" said she.

P: "And your father's?"
K: "And your father's?"

P: "Heaven bless him! Peter!
K: "Karl Katz! Heaven bless him!" said she; "but, poor man! he is lost and gone.

P: It is now twenty years since we sought him day and night on the mountain; his flock came back, but he never was heard of any more. I was then seven years old."
K: It is now full twenty years since we sought for him day and night on the mountain. His dog and his flock came back, but he never was heard of any more. I was then seven years old."

P: The goatherd could hold no longer. "I am Peter," cried he; "I am Peter, and no other;" as he took the child from his daughter's arms and kissed it.
K: Poor Karl could hold no longer: "I am Karl Katz, and no other!" said he, as he took the child from his daughter's arms and kissed it over and over again.

P: All stood gaping, and not knowing what to say or think, till at length one voice was heard, "Why it is Peter!"
K: All stood gaping, and hardly knowing what to say or think, when old Stropken the schoolmaster hobbled by, and took a long and close look at him. "Karl Katz! Karl Katz!" said he slowly: "why it is Karl Katz sure enough!

There is my own mark upon him; there is the scar over his right eye, that I gave him myself one day with my oak stick."

P: and then several others cried, "Yes, it is, it is Peter! Welcome neighbour, welcome home, after twenty long years."
K: Then several others also cried out, "Yes, it is! it is Karl Katz! Welcome, neighbor, welcome home!"

"But where," said or thought all, "can an honest steady fellow like you have been these twenty years?"

And now the whole village had flocked around; the children laughed, the dogs barked, and all were glad to see neighbor Karl home alive and well. As to where he had been for the twenty years, that was a part of the story at which Karl shrugged up his shoulders; for he never could very well explain it, and seemed to think the less that was said about it the better. But it was plain enough that what dwelt most on his memory was the noble wine that had tickled his mouth while the knights played their game of nine-pins.


Der Ziegenhirt and Rip Van Winkle

Here are the points of contact between Der Ziegenhirt (The Goatherd) and Rip Van Winkle. One fundamental difference is that Rip is not a goatherd. He often heads off into the mountains with his dog and fowling piece for a respite from farm chores and his termagent wife, mainly the latter.

Z: indicates Ziegenhirt.
R: indicates Rip Van Winkle. (Red seems good for Rip, right?)

WARNING: If you follow this through, don't fall into thinking that you've read Rip Van Winkle or a synopsis. This is just the barest skeleton of an American masterpiece.

 

THE GOATHERD (DER ZIEGENHIRT) - complete
RIP VAN WINKLE - extracts

Z: Peter Klaus, a goatherd from Sittendorf, who grazed his herd on the Kyffhäuser, was in the habit of letting them rest in the evening on a place with an old inclosing wall, where he held watch over them. Since a few days he had noticed, that one of his most beautiful goats soon after, when he had come on this place, disappeared and only later followed the herd. He observed her closer and saw, that she slipped through an opening in the wall. He wreathed after her, and met her in a hollow, where she joyfully picked up the oat grains, that separately fell down from the ceiling. He looked in the height, shook the head over the oat rain, could however discover nothing more through all staring. Finally he heard over himself the whinnying and stamping of a few valiant stallions, from whose manger the oats must have escaped. So the goatherd stood there, amazed over the horses in a completely abandoned fort.

There a squire came and waved silently for him to follow.
R: Rip... perceived a strange figure slowly toiling up the rocks... [The stranger] made signs for Rip to approach and assist him with the [keg].

Z: Peter climbed a few steps up and came, through a walled around court, to a deepening, that was enclosed around with high rockwalls, in which, through overhanging thickly leaved branches, a little twilight fell down into.
R: They clambered up a narrow gully... Passing through the ravine, they came to a hollow, like a small amphitheatre, surrounded by perpendicular precipices, over the brinks of which impending trees shot their branches, so that you only caught glimpses of the azure sky...

Z: Here he found, on a well smoothed out, cool grass place, twelve serious knights, of whom none spoke a word, at ninepins.
R: On a level spot in the center was a company of odd-looking personages playing at nine-pins... They maintained... the most mysterious silence.

Z: Peter was silently employed to set up the pins.
R: [The stranger] made signs to him to wait upon the company [i.e., serve the liquor.]

Z: In the beginning he did this with shaking knees,
R: His knees smote together [here, a reaction to the stares of the company.]

Z: when he noticed with half furtive looks, the long beards
R: One had a large beard...

Z: and the slashed open bellies of the noble knights.
R: Some wore short doublets, other jerkins, with long knives in their belts... A stout old gentleman... wore a laced doublet...

Z: Gradually the familiarization made him more impudent.
R: By degrees Rip's awe and apprehension subsided.

Z: He observed all around himself with a more intensive look and finally dared it, to drink from a mug, that was set next to him and from which the smell of the wine came to him sweetly.
R: He even ventured, when no eye was fixed upon him, to taste the beverage, which he found had much the flavor of excellent Hollands.

Z: He felt himself newly enlivened and so often as he felt fatigue, he received new strength from the never empty mug.
R: He... was soon tempted to repeat the draught. One taste provoked another; and he reiterated his visits to the flagon so often....

Z: Yet finally sleep overcame him.
R: ...and he fell into a deep sleep.

Z: With awakening he found himself again on the enclosed green place, where he normally let his goats rest.
R: On awakening, he found himself on the green knoll whence he had first seen the old man of the glen.

Z: He rubbed the eyes,
R: He rubbed his eyes...

Z: but could neither dog nor goats discover,
R: Wolf, too, had disappeared.

Z: was astonished over the tall grass and over shrubbery and trees, that he had never noticed here before.

Headshaking he went further, forth through all of the ways and bridges, that he daily with his herd was used to wander through; but he saw nowhere a trace of his goats. Below he saw Sittendorf, and finally he climbed down,
R: He shook his head... and... turned his steps homeward.

Z: with hasty steps, in order to ask about his herd here.

The people, who encountered him before the village, were all unknown to him,
R: As he approached the village he met a number of people, but none whom he knew...

Z: were differently clothed and spoke not so, as his acquaintances;
R: Their dress, too, was of a different fashion from that to which he was accustomed.

Z: also they all stared at him, when he asked about his goats and rubbed themselves on the chin.
R: They all stared at him... and whenever they cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins.

Z: Finally he did, almost reluctantly, just that and found, to his astonishment his beard about a foot longer.
R: The constant recurrence of this gesture induced Rip, involuntarily, to do the same, when to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long!

Z: He began, to believe himself and the whole world around himself to be enchanted;
R: His mind now misgave him; he began to doubt whether both he and the world around him were not bewitched.

Z: And yet he knew the mountain,
R: There stood the Kaatskill mountains...

Z: which he had climbed down from, well as the Kyffha"user, also were the houses with their gardens and front yards all well known. Also named several youths, on the question by a passing traveler, the name: Sittendorf.

He went headshaking forth into the village and to his hut.
R: It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house.

Z: He found it very much fallen into disrepair,
R: He found the house gone to decay...

Z: and before it lay a strange shepherd boy in torn frock,

next to an emaciated dog, who showed his teeth, as he called him.
R: A half-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking about. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on.

Z: He went through the opening, that otherwise a door locked up, inside, found however all so desolate and empty, that he, like a drunkard, from the back door staggered out again, and called by their names wife and children.
R: He entered the house... It was empty, forlorn, and aparently abandoned... He called loudly for his wife and children...

Z: But no one heard, and no voice answered him.
R: The lonely chambers rang for a moment with his voice, and then all again was silence.

Z: Soon women and children crowded around the searching man with the long, ice gray beard and asked him intently: what he sought?
R: The appearance of Rip [at the tavern]... an army of women and children at his heels, soon attracted the attention of the tavern politicians... The orator... inquired "on which side he voted?"

Z: Others, before his own house asking about his wife or his children, or about him himself, seemed to him so strange, that he, in order to become free of the inquirers, the next names called, that occurred to him. "Kurt Steffen!"
R: Rip bethought himself a moment, and inquired, "Where's Nicholas Vedder?"

Z: Most stayed silent and looked at each other, finally an aged woman said: For twelve years he lives under the Sachsenburg, there you will not go today.
R: There was silence for a little while... an old man replied... "Nicholas Vedder! why, he is dead and gone these eighteen years!

Z: "Velten Meier!"
R: "Where's Brom Dutcher?"

Z: God bless him! Answered an old little mother on the crutch, he lies yet for fifteen years in the house, that he will never leave.
R: "Oh, he went off to the army in the beginning of the war..."

Z: He recognized shivering, his suddenly grown old neighbor, but for him the desire was past, to ask further.

There a young quick woman with a one year boy on the arm and a four year maiden on the hand pressed herself through the curious onlookers,
R: ...a fresh, comely woman pressed through the throng... She had a chubby child in her arms...

Z: all three were a picture of his wife.
R: The name of the child [Rip], the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind.

Z: "How are you called?" he asked astonished.
R: What's your name, my good woman?" asked he.

Z: "Maria."
R: "Judith Gardenier."

Z: "And your father?"
R: "And your father's name?"

Z: "God bless him! Peter Klaus; it is now twenty years, that we searched for him day and night on the Kyffhäuser, because the herd came back without him; I was at that time seven years old."
R: "Ah, poor man, Rip Van Winkle was his name, but it's twenty years since he went away from home with his gun, and never has been heard of since--his dog came home without him... I was then but a little girl."

Z: The goatherd could no longer retain himself.
R: The honest man could contain himself no longer.

Z: "I am Peter Klaus, he cried, and no other!" and took the boy from the arm of his daughter.
R: He caught his daughter and her child in is arms. "I am your father!" cried he--"Young Rip Van Winkle once---old Rip Van Winkle now!..."

Z: All stood like made of stone, until finally one voice, and then another voice cried: "Yes, that is Peter Klaus! Welcome neighbor, after twenty years welcome!"
R: All stood amazed, until an old woman... exclaimed, "Sure enough; it is Rip Van Winkle--it is himself! Welcome home again, old neighbor..."


Elements of Rip Van Winkle in Karl Katz

Keeping all four stories fixed clearly in mind simultaneously is a bit much for this brain, but I believe everything in Peter the Goatherd (1826) comes from Der Ziegenhirt (1800), with further literary touches from the translator, Edgar Taylor. Nothing jumps out at me as having come from Rip Van Winkle (1819).

However, in the transition from Peter the Goatherd (1826) to Karl Katz (c. 1838), Edgar Taylor certainly did bring in some of Washington Irving's ideas in Rip Van Winkle (1819), for instance, the hero hearing his name called, and the peals of "thunder".

R: indicates Rip Van Winkle.
K: indicates Karl Katz.

***

R: As he was about to descend, he heard a voice from a distance, hallooing, "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!"... He looked round, but could see nothing... He... turned again to descend, when he heard the same cry ring through the still evening air: "Rip Van Winkle! Rip Van Winkle!"

K: ...when on a sudden he heard his own name, "Karl Katz!" echo through the cavern. He turned round, but could see nothing. "Karl Katz!" again sounded sharply in his ears...

***

R: As they ascended, Rip every now and then heard long rolling peals, like distant thunder that seemed to issue out of a deep ravine, or rather cleft, between lofty rocks...

K: ...and winding his way through ruins, he soon heard rolling overhead what sounded like peals of thunder, echoing among the rocks.

***

R: The whole group reminded Rip of the figures in an old Flemish painting, in the parlor of Dominic Van Shaick, the village parson, and which had been brought over from Holland at the time of the settlement.

K: Their dress did not seem altogether strange to Karl, for in the church of the town, whither he went every week to market there was an old monument, with figures of queer old knights upon it, dressed in the very same fashion.

***

R: "These mountain beds do not agree with me," thought Rip.

K: "It serves me right," said he; "this comes of sleeping out of one's own bed."

***

R: He determined to revisit the scene of the last evening's gambol... At length he reached to where the ravine had opened through the cliffs to the amphitheatre; but no traces of such an opening remained.

K: His first step was to look for the doorway through which he had followed his goat; but to his astonishment, not the least trace of an opening of any sort was to be seen. There stood the wall, without chink or crack big enough for a rat to pass through.

***

And here's the closing sentence of each:

R: ...and it is a common wish of all hen-pecked husbands in the neighborhood, when life hangs heavy on their hands, that they might have a quieting draught out of Rip Van Winkle's flagon.

K: But it was plain enough that what dwelt most on his memory was the noble wine that had tickled his mouth while the knights played their game of nine-pins.

***


Loose Ends

If you haven't read "Rip Van Winkle" lately, I suggest it might be fun to do so after reading the stories on this page.

 
When I reread "Rip Van Winkle" after reading "Karl Katz", this was the most surprising similarity:

Rip Van Winkle: [The villagers] all stared at him with equal marks of surprise, and, whenever they cast their eyes upon him, invariably stroked their chins. The constant recurrence of this gesture induced Rip involuntarily to do the same, when, to his astonishment, he found his beard had grown a foot long.

Karl Katz: When he eagerly asked each [villager], as he came up, after his goats, they only stared at him and stroked their chins. At last he did the same too; and what was his wonder to find that his beard was grown at least a foot long!

Surely somebody was cribbing! Now we know they both derive from Ottmar:

Der Ziegenhirt (The Goatherd): The people, who encountered him before the village... all stared at him, when he asked about his goats and rubbed themselves on the chin. Finally he did, almost reluctantly, just that and found, to his astonishment his beard about a foot longer.

 
In an article on the web called "The American Monthly Magazine: a fashionable title", there's an interesting footnote to this sentence:

If Walter Scott was seen as an undisputed master in nineteenth-century literary circles, Byron and Goethe evoke in these selected pieces a more mature Romanticism...

Here's the footnote:

This is what led Washington Irving to spend Summer 1817 at the master's [Walter Scott] home. The Scottish novelist advised him to study German literature in which the American found inspiration for some of his tales. "Rip van Winkle", for instance, is an Americanized version of the German Ma"rchen "Der Ziegenhirt" ("The goatherd") which Irving must have discovered in Otmar's Volkssagen (1800).

My 1950 Columbia Encyclopedia says, "Modern scholarship supports the contention that much of Irving's work was derivative." Hey, every idea comes from somewhere. Rip is cool. Irving's the man.

 
Keep in mind I'm not the only one out there who had the notion that Karl Katz was a Grimm tale. In "The Hudson River in Literature", Arthur G. Adams writes,

"Actually Rip Van Winkle derives from an old legend of the long sleep of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. The immediate inspiration may have come from the tale of Karl Katz in Grimm's Fairy Tales (1812-1815)...

 
Poking around the web while first putting this page together, I found this interesting passage from a book called "The Altar Fire" (1907). The book is by Arthur C. Benson, but the bulk of it consists of 19th century diary entries by an unnamed friend of the author.

December 10, 1888.

To-day I stumbled upon one of my old childish books—Grimm's Household Stories. I am ashamed to say how long I read it. These old tales, which I used to read as transcripts of marvellous and ancient facts, have, many of them, gained for me, through experience of life, a beautiful and symbolical value; one in particular, the tale of Karl Katz.

Karl used to feed his goats in the ruins of an old castle, high up above the stream. Day after day one of his herd used to disappear, coming back in the evening to join the homeward procession, very fat and well-liking. So Karl set himself to watch, and saw that the goat slipped in at a hole in the masonry. He enlarged the hole, and presently was able to creep into a dark passage. He made his way along, and soon heard a sound like a falling hailstorm. He groped his way thither, and found the goat, in the dim light, feeding on grains of corn which came splashing down from above. He looked and listened, and, from the sounds of stamping and neighing overhead, he became aware that the grain was falling through the chinks of a paved floor from a stable inside the hill. I forget at this moment what happened next—the story is rich in inconsequent details—but Karl shortly heard a sound like thunder, which he discerned at last to be persons laughing and shouting and running in the vaulted passages. He stole on, and found, in an open, grassy place, great merry men playing at bowls. He was welcomed and set down in a chair, though he could not even lift one of the bowls when invited to join in the game. A dwarf brought him wine in a cup, which he drank, and presently he fell asleep.

When he woke, all was silent and still; he made his way back; the goats were gone, and it was the early morning, all misty and dewy among the ruins, when he squeezed out of the hole.

He felt strangely haggard and tired, and reached the village only to find that seventy years had elapsed, and that he was an old and forgotten man, with no place for him. He had lost his home, and though there were one or two old grandfathers, spent and dying, who remembered the day when he was lost, and the search made for him, yet now there was no room for the old man. The gap had filled up, life had flowed on. They had grieved for him, but they did not want him back. He disturbed their arrangements; he was another useless mouth to feed.

The pretty old story is full of parables, sad and sweet. But the kernel of the tale is a warning to all who, for any wilfulness or curiosity, however romantic or alluring the quest, forfeit their place for an instant in the world. You cannot return. Life accommodates itself to its losses, and however sincerely a man may be lamented, yet if he returns, if he tries to claim his place, he is in the way, de trap. No one has need of him.

An artist has most need of this warning, because he of all men is tempted to enter the dark place in the hill, to see wonderful things and to drink the oblivious wine. Let him rather keep his hold on the world, at whatever sacrifice. Because by the time that he has explored the home of the merry giants, and dreamed his dream, the world to which he tries to tell the vision will heed it not, but treat it as a fanciful tale.

 


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Helpful keywords not in the main text: Ottmar = Otmar = Johann Carl Christoph Nachtigal. Bu"sching = Johann G. Bu"sching = Büsching. Kyffhauser = Kyffha"user = Kyffhäuser = Kypphauser = Kyppha"user = Kypphäuser. Volkssagen = Volks-Sagen = Volks Sagen. Marchen = Ma"rchen = Märchen = Household Tales = Grimms Fairy Tales. M.M. = Messieurs.

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