Category Archives: Tales /märchen

Stories which are not regarded as possibly true.

The Lost Dutchman

‘ This story is a true folklore story, at least for Arizona, and like all folklore, at least I believe, it has molded and changed over generations. This is the permutation that I learned and now recall… which is certainly probably not even close to the original form of this tale. In Arizona, back in the mid-1800s, there was a miner, a gold miner. This takes place in an area called the Superstition Mountains, directly east of Phoenix. Beautiful red rocks with huge buttress cliffs. On the north side, there is a place called Weaver’s needle which is a huge spike of sandstone sticking out of the desert. When the Apache’s lived in this area, there was a Dutchman and his partner… he was German and not Dutch, but back then everyone referred to Germans as Dutchmen. The Dutchman was portrayed as being an old, grizzled man with a long beard and a mule or donkey with saddle bags and a pickaxe. They were out prospecting for gold, and the Apache were living in this area. The Dutchman and his partner had gone into this area that the Apache considered sacred… a sacred burial and hunting ground. No one was supposed to go in there, but the Dutchman and his partner did. They found gold and created a gold mine. At one point, he and his partner brought out a few of the gold nuggets to have them assayed and confirmed that it was real gold, not fool’s gold. It turned out to be 100% 24 carat gold… so they went back to the mine and began mining out all of the gold. They buried the treasure nearby and took as much as they could. The legend has it that the Apache found out about this and killed the Dutchman and his partner for invading their sacred lands. The Dutchman and his partner never told anyone where this mine was, and awhile later, the remains of the Dutchman was found, but never of his partner… The idea was where was the mine? So, legend has it that the mine was found within the shadows of weaver’s needle. We don’t know if its morning shadows, evening, afternoon… For many years, people would go searching for the gold mine and treasure, and often when the prospectors got close to finding this mine, they mysteriously disappeared. The Apache would tell no one what truly happened… that they know nothing about this… but hundreds of people went missing. The legend goes that the ghosts of the Dutchman and his partner would kill and hide the prospectors when they got close to the gold.’ – PB

When PB was growing up, him, his brother, and his dad would go hiking and camping all around the Superstition Mountains in Arizona. His dad would tell them stories about the lost Dutchman… PB recalls that he cannot remember if they were the stories his dad learned growing up, or perhaps they got mixed up with stories he had mixed ups from the tales told during campfire nights with the scouts. PB’s dad would tell him this story whenever they would go camping in the shadows of Weaver’s Needle, and of course PB would get up to go look around for the gold mine. He grew up learning about this legend, and everyone in his scout group did too. He would often tell and recount these tales on hikes and around the campfires with his friends while being at the Superstition mountains.

While I have been to the Superstition Mountains many time growing up, I had never heard this legend before, but I knew of many ghost stories surrounding the history of the Native American peoples who lived in this area of Arizona. This piece of folklore fits well into the oral tradition that much of folklore embodies. This tale has been passed down throughout diverse communities for over a century. It combines cultural beliefs and important historical characteristics allowing for the imagination of story tellers to further spread and most definitely adapt this tale, as PB recalled his version is most likely very different from the one he heard decades ago, and especially from the original narrative. This legend also uses the supernatural to provide moral understandings for the disappearances of many and the cultural significance of the land. This piece of folklore has been an integral part of the folklore surrounding this part of Arizona, and the seemingly well-named Superstition Mountains. It is a tale I will now pass through to my peers and family when going back to visit this beautiful desert.

Apache Tear Mountain

‘ In Arizona, there is a mountain called Apache Tear Mountain. Back in the mid and late 1800s, the Apache people lived around this mountain. They were peace-loving and wonderful people. They raised their families in this area, but at one point, the Apache that lived around there went to war with another Native American tribe. The tale goes that the warriors of the Apache tribe met and fought the other tribe on top of the mountain. They fought and fought and fought… Many warriors of the Apache tribe were killed. At the end of the battle, the wives and daughters went to the top of the mountain and saw their family members… grandfathers, fathers, uncles, and brothers… dead from battle. The women wept and cried, and as they cried their tears fell down the mountain and turned to beautiful black glassy stone which then turned into obsidian… the Apache tears.’ – PB

Growing up, PB and his dad would travel to Pima, a town in central Arizona. It was on this drive his dad would always remind him of this legend that many people in Arizona know and share with others. His dad learned this from his father, who was actually a miner in central Arizona, mining silver, copper, tin, and manganese. PB remembers when he would travel to Apache Tear Mountain, he would ask for Apache Tears and would be brought beautiful black stones, stones of obsidian. He even went into the mountain on hikes and trips, and recalls that when he would dig in the soil, it would unearth even more beautiful obsidian. While he learned this from his father, PB has also shared this tale with his own family and children, taking them to the exact spot he grew up going.

This legend was told to me as a child, and has been a story I share with friends on road trips throughout the Arizona deserts. This piece of folklore follows many of the trends that lore is known for. It latches on to the cultural beliefs of the Native American peoples in Arizona and combines it with the legends that were told among these communities. While it can be assumed that these legends were adapted as they flowed through the many diverse communities who told them, this is still a key aspect of folklore; the adaptation of the tradition as it follows through many cultures. Furthermore, this legend combines the tradition and cultural beliefs with an origin for a mineral formed among a mountain, allowing the imagination to give reason as to why and how obsidian was created there in the first place. This tale also allows these communities to uphold the sacred connection to the land in central Arizona. History and legends are combined into one, giving a unique oral tradition to a tale told thousands of times.

Salem Witches

‘ As an anthropologist, I spent decades interviewing people in the Mayan highlands, throughout central America and Mexico, and the Andes all about their folklore, ghost stories, and witch stories… but I want to tell you the one that I grew up with in New England, a piece of folklore so important to me it changed the way I live. When we were kids, the histories and the stories of the Salem Witch Trials are something that everybody was taught. We were told these stories from our first grammar school class. I grew up during a period in the 70s where there was a whole revitalization of interest in witches. Because of the feminist movement, there was a retelling of who these women were. It is said that in 1692, the craze started… it went for a full year. Anyone who was considered an outcast or spoke out, were all accused of being witches. Here, in these little towns of New England, people were paranoid beyond belief. They were having heavy winters, people were starving, they were jealous of each other… there was so much religious belief that the devil was constantly surrounding them… he’s in the goats… he’s in your neighbor… he’s everywhere. So, in the late 1600s, this group of girls sitting around the fire, with a Caribbean woman named Tituba and the girls asked her to tell them a story to pass the time. Her story was about the devil, and the devil turning girls into witches. This got in the little girls’ heads, and before long, all of them start to have these visions of witches… that people are having paralytic attacks, epileptic attacks, visions and hallucinations, sleepwalking… They say this was all because of the witches. During this brutal Winter, the town of Salem used a book written by a British King called “How to Tell a Witch”, and they used this book to identify the ‘witches’. Over 200 people had been accused as witches. So, when I was growing up, I grew up with pictures of the Devil with puritanical etchings, pictures of the devil riding goats in the churches… These things were in my brain as real things that really happened. I was taught that the history is in my house, my clothes, the furniture, everywhere. Somehow, I am connected to them. So, I grew up with this belief that witches were our friends… that witches were these falsely accused woman… not falsely accused because witches don’t exist… we believed they did, and that they were killed because they were smart woman who spoke out and killed for that. Many of us identified as witches growing up… I did. So many of us growing up during this time thought we were witches and led a life to resemble the tales we heard of our ancestors.” – JB

JB has a personal connection to the tales of the Salem Witch Trials, specifically to the tales that were revitalized during the 70s. JB grew up very close to Salem Town, in which the trials happened. They were passed down to her throughout her childhood in places like school, or from friends and their parents. She felt so strongly about these tales and memmorates that she began to live a life similar to that of a witch. She believed she was one, she decided that her and her friends were the “new witches” and with that she prayed to the trees, the rivers, and to something much older than any religion she knew. JB recalls that the story she tells now, the tales she passes down to her own family are intertwined with those of the Salem Witches.

To me, this piece of JB’s life was very interesting, as I also grew up learning about the Salem Witch Trials, but not during a time where these stories were regenerated and strengthened. I learned about it more in the historical sense, what my teachers believed to be factual events during this time period. I was not told any tales or legends of these times. JB’s recounting of her experience shows how much historical folklore can be passed down through generations and continue to take effect on those who hear them, as it did to her and her peers. Additionally, the cultural beliefs of these legends have continued to adapt and be passed down to many audiences across the world. The adaptation can even be seen in JB’s interpretation of the legends, as in the 70s, the theme had changed to show the power of the women, rather than the ‘sin’ many past tales condemned them to have. It can also be assumed that these tales in the late 1800s and early 1900s were performed for audiences, as much folklore is. This folklore also took hold in shaping many communities throughout the last centuries, growing over time and bringing people together, fostering a sense of connection to such historical events.

Beccaria Legends

‘In my little town of Beccaria in the central Pennsylvania mountains, we had a little church, and it was the center of our “so-called religious and social life” and so whatever happened in that church would be pretty powerful for me, even through my high school years as I think back on it. But what was a little different in this Evangelical culture that I grew up in was that every summer there would be something called “Evangelism Week”. There were these men who may not have even ever gone to seminary or bible school… But they had a certain amount of skill, and they were Evangelists. For one week we would go to church every night and they would preach. That preaching was always fire and brimstone… It was always how everybody in Beccaria was sinful, was bad, was going to go to hell for sure… everything that might be fun, like square dancing… or never mind any other kind of dancing… listening to country western music or wearing lipstick or makeup of any kind… having your hair permed or going to the movies… which was our main form of entertainment… That was all work of the devil. The devil was a very real kind of figure… a mystical evil legend and thing that was just ready to pop out in this 300-person population town. It was very real to me and very powerful to everyone in Beccaria. This has definitely affected me my whole life. I’m a very dutiful and prim person because of these tales told of the devil each Evangelism week. In the families that were pious, their children were damaged by that, like my cousins. I didn’t think about it as mystical when I was a kid, but it really was. But we would go… we would sit at it every year… every summer through high school. They would preach to us these tales in the pulpit and they would be very explosive, dynamic, and loud when they acted out these stories. It was always legends about the devil, nothing about Jesus or the “good parts of Christianity.” To think that I am almost 90 years old… it haunts me still… it’s as vivid to me as anything… it was the dark side.’ – VB

VB would hear these tales of the devil each summer growing up from groups of men who came to her little town of Beccaria, Pennsylvania. It was tradition for her family, and even her own parents grew up attending the same Evangelism week. This single week each summer practically dictated the way VB decided to live her life and how she wanted to raise her own children. The influence these tales and legends about the devil had on her practically consumed her whole childhood, and even decades later, she still thinks about it. She reminisced on the fact that after this week, she would refuse to go to any more Saturday night square dances, and even skip out on the Sunday afternoon movie showings, out of fear of damnation. It would take months for this influence to wear off before she would even consider going out to have a moment of fun. VB gave an anecdote that these preachings had a generational impact, her parents, grandparents, and even her cousins al felt affected by Evangelism week. As stated in the paraphrase of her story, she lives a dutiful life, raising her children to do so as well. However, she recalls that when her daughter married a “fun-loving” man, it truly changed a lot of her own perspective on religion and the way lives should be lived… allowing her to accept the fun times and move past the idea of entertainment being sinful.

My initial understanding of this story told by VB was that she grew up in a very small religious town, and with the Evangelism week was an opportunity for the church to instill fear into the townspeople to control their behaviors. This follows the stereotypes that I grew up learning about small “middle of nowhere” towns such as Beccaria Pennsylvania. However, a lot of religious folklore was present in Beccaria with this local tradition and annual ritual for the community. As folklore does, it brought the community together, sharing the same ideas and beliefs to all that would listen. Additionally, this story told by VB shows how oral tradition can shape beliefs of the entire community who listened, something folklore has been known to do. Additionally, much folklore has gestures and is performed, and as VB recalls, the preachers served a fiery sermon with animated gestures, practically making it into a performance. This folklore allowed the residents of Beccaria to shape their way of lives and have a collective experience together. While folklore is usually thought of in the sense of fairytales and mythical legends, it often can be used in a fear-mongering sense as it is here. Not only has this folklore been passed down from VB’s ancestors, but VB continued to spread this oral tradition to her own family, even though she was far from her hometown of Beccaria, no longer attending the Evangelism week.

The Tale of the Capre

Tags: Tale, Philipines, Capre

Text

At night, when you’re looking up at the trees, you’re not supposed to point at them because they say that if you look closely, you’ll see eyes and they belong to a creature called the Capre. The  Capre is this old guy that sits in trees; he’s dark with horns and he smokes all day.

Informant Info

Race/Ethnicity: Filipino

Age: 21

Occupation: College Student

Residence: California, USA

Date of Performance: March 2024

Primary Language: English

Other Language(s): Tagalog

Relationship: Friend

Context

KM, the informant, is of Filipino descent.

Analysis

Filipino superstitions are typically associated with promoting good luck and health. This tale serves to act as a charm (or anticharm) of good luck. If you look at the Capre, you will get bad luck. If you don’t look at the Capre, you will get good luck.