Beautiful
19th-Century chromolithograph of the remarkable phenomenon nowadays
believed by zoologists to be the true explanation for bygone reports of the
hazelworm (public domain)
One of the most
extraordinary creatures to straddle the boundaries of mythology and reality
must surely be the European hazelworm, and yet its fascinating history is all
but forgotten today. High time, therefore, to resurrect it from centuries of
zoological neglect and present its very curious credentials to a modern-day
audience at last.
Back in the
Middle Ages, the Germanic folklore of Central Europe's alpine
regions contained many tales of a terrifying dragon of the huge, limbless,
serpent-like variety known as the worm. But this particular worm was set apart
from others by its sometimes hairy rather than scaly outer surface, and above all else by its
proclivity for inhabiting areas containing a plenitude of hazel bushes.
Consequently, it duly became known as the hazelworm (aka Heerwurm and Haselwurm
in German, but not to be confused with a known species of legless lizard, the
slow worm Anguis fragilis, which is also sometimes referred to as the
hazelworm).
The
slow worm, a familiar species of European legless lizard sometimes referred to
as the hazelworm (© Wildfeuer/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)
Additionally,
Leander Petzoldt reported in his Kleines Lexikon der Dämonen und
Elementargeister (2003) that according to some traditional beliefs, the
hazelworm was nothing less than the Serpent that had tempted Adam and Eve with
fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden, and
was therefore also accorded such alternative names as the Paradise Snake and
the Worm of Knowledge.
After God had
cursed it and banished it for its treachery, however, the Serpent supposedly
sought sanctuary in hazel bushes outside Eden, where it feeds
to this day upon their foliage, and winds its elongated body around their
roots. Moreover, it subsequently became passive in nature, and can readily be
recognised by its whitish colouration, thus yielding for it yet another name –
the white worm or Weisser Wurm. And because it is said to surface just before
the onset of a war, a further name given to this contentious creature is war
worm.
Painting
by William Blake depicting Eve with an inordinately lengthy Eden
Serpent, reminiscent of medieval reports of the hazelworm (public domain)
Early retellings
of its legends ascribed to the hazelworm an immense body length. Perhaps the
most famous example is a local account penned by Rector and Pastor Heinrich
Eckstorm (1557-1622) that appeared in Chronicon
Walkenredense. Printed in 1617, this was the Latin chronicle of his
monastery, Walkenried Abbey, situated in what is today Lower Saxony, Germany.
Here is what he wrote.
One day in July 1597, a woman hailing from Holbach ventured into Lower Saxony's
Harz mountain range to collect blueberries, but as she ascended she encountered
an enormous hazelworm, which scared her so much that she promptly abandoned her
basket of diligently-picked berries and fled to the village of Zorge. There she
met a woodcutter named Old William, and pleaded with him to give her shelter,
which he did, although he and his wife laughed heartily and disbelievingly when
the woman told them about the hazelworm.
From the Chronicon Walkenredense (public
domain)
Eight days later, however, when inadvertently finding
himself in the vicinity of where she had claimed to have seen the monster, Old
William himself encountered it, lying across the road up ahead, and so big that
he had initially mistaken it for a fallen oak tree – until it began to move,
and raise its hitherto-concealed head from out of some nearby hazel bushes. He
too duly fled to Zorge, where he told everyone what he had seen.
Old William estimated that the hazelworm had been around 18 ft long, was as thick as a man's thigh, was green and
yellow in colour, and, of particular interest, possessed feet on its
underparts, rather than being limbless. Several notable personages were present
to hear his testimony, including lawyers Mitzschefal from Stöckei and Joachim
Götz from Olenhusen, and doctors Johannes Stromer and Philipp Ratzenberg.
Medieval illustration of a hazelworm
depicted atypically with wings (public domain)
Two centuries later, in 1790, Blankenburg-based
chronicler Johann Christophe Stübner, a major sceptic of hazelworm reports,
nonetheless recorded that the skeleton of a charred hazelworm was supposedly
discovered in Wurmberg, a Lower Saxony forestry village near Braunlage. He also
noted that in 1782 a lengthy hazelworm
could apparently still be found in Allröder Forest.
Conversely, as
noted by renowned South Tyrolean folklorist Hans Fink in his book Verzaubertes
Land: Volkskult und Ahnenbrauch in Südtirol [Enchanted Land: Folk Art
and Alpine Life in South Tyrol] (1969), stories concerning the hazelworm
that still abound today in the autonomous South Tyrol (occupying a region
formerly part of Austria-Hungary but annexed by Italy in 1919) aver that it is
no bigger than a cradle-fitting child in swaddling clothes. (This in turn has
led to some confusion with another herpetological alpine cryptid, the
tatzelworm – click here to read my
ShukerNature article concerning this creature.) There are even claims that it
has the head of a child too and can howl like a baby crying.
Model
of tatzelworm created by Markus Bühler (© Markus Bühler)
Also, it was
once greatly sought after. As documented by Claudia Liath in Der Grüne Hain
[The Green Grove] (2012), this was because anyone eating the flesh of a
hazelworm would supposedly become immortal, remaining forever young, handsome,
and healthy, and would also gain all manner of other ostensibly desirable but
otherwise unobtainable benefits, such as the ability to talk to and understand
the speech of animals, to discover hidden treasures, and to be fully versed in the
healing properties of plants. Indeed, some of his envious, less gifted
contemporaries actually avowed that the extraordinary scholarly abilities of
Swiss physician, alchemist, and astrologer Theophrastus Paracelsus
(1493/4-1541) must surely be due to his having secretly consumed the meat of a
hazelworm.
In Hexenwahn:
Schicksale und Hintergründe. Die Tiroler Hexenprozesse [The Witch
Delusion: Fates and Backgrounds. The Tyrolean Witch Trials] (2018),
Hansjörg Rabanser recorded that during one such trial – that of the alleged
sorcerer Mathaus Niderjocher, held at the Sonnenburg district court in 1650/51
- the defendant claimed that he and a locksmith named Andreas had once hunted a
hazelworm by magical means. After consulting a book of sorcery, they had drawn
a magical circle around a hazel bush, then dug out the bush itself, and found
at knee-deep level in the earth a stony plate, beneath which was a hazelworm
that was very long, thick, and white in colour. Despite recourse to evocation
spells from the book of sorcery, however, they were unable to control or
capture the hazelworm, which bit Andreas in the hand before disappearing.
Portrait
of Theophrastus Paracelsus, painted by Quentin Massys (public domain)
If such claims
as those presented above were factual, there may even be opportunities to
repeat them in the present day, judging at least from some tantalising reports
of hazelworms having been killed in modern times, as collected and presented in
an extensive German-language article on this subject by Swiss chronicler Markus
Kappeler (click here to
read it).
For example, not
far from Ilfeld monastery in Honstein county at the foot of the Harz Mountains
are the ruins of a castle named Harzburg, where a hazelworm was reputedly seen
for three consecutive years around half a century ago, until killed by two
woodcutters there, after which its body was hung from a tree, attracting many
interested viewers coming from near and far. It was said to be 12
ft long, with a head reminiscent of a pike's in general form. (Back
in 1712, within his major opus Hercynia Curiosa oder Curiöser Hartz-Wald,
Dr Georg H. Behrens had claimed that very large, hideous-looking hazelworms
inhabited these very same castle ruins.) The skin of another slain hazelworm
was allegedly exhibited at one time in Schleusingen, a city in Thuringia, Germany.
A
hazel bush of the common hazel Corylus avellana, around whose roots the
hazelworm is traditionally believed in alpine folklore to entwine its very
lengthy, elongate body (© H. Zell/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)
Even today,
locals inhabiting what was formerly the Duchy of Brunswick-Lüneburg in
northwestern Germany (now the Kingdom of Hanover and Duchy of Brunswick) claim
that this rangy reptile is still quite common, that it sucks the milk from the
udders of cows and poisons the meadows, and that they therefore still go out at
certain times of the year to hunt young specimens measuring 3-4.5
ft. Make of that what you will!
For in reality,
the mysterious hazelworm has long since ceased to be a mystery, at least for
zoologists. Indeed, as far back as the 1770s, physician August C. Kühn
documented that sightings of supposed hazelworms were actually based upon
observations of long moving columns of army worms – a popular name given to the
black-headed, white-bodied larva of Sciara (=Lycoria)
militaris and several other dark-winged species of fungus gnat. Subsequent studies by other naturalists swiftly
confirmed his statement. The exquisite 19th-Century chromolithograph
heading this ShukerNature article and presented again below depicts one such
procession (and click here to
view a short video of one on YouTube).
An
extremely lengthy procession of fungus gnat larvae, nowadays deemed to be the
identity of the very long, white-bodied hazelworm of traditional alpine lore
(public domain)
Columns or
processions of these insect larvae moving in a nose-to-tail manner, i.e. each
larva following immediately behind another, can measure up to 30
ft long and several inches in diameter (as such columns can each
be many larvae abreast). Accordingly, such a procession might well be mistaken
for a single enormously lengthy, elongate snake-like entity if seen only
briefly or during poor viewing conditions (e.g. at twilight, during mist or
fog), and especially if unexpectedly encountered by a layman too terrified to
stay around for a closer look!
Similarly, sightings
of noticeably hairy hazelworms were ultimately discounted as columns of hairy
caterpillars walking in single file and belonging to the pine processionary
moth Thaumetopoea
pityocampa. The hazelworm
was no more, merely a closely-knit procession of insect larvae, not a single,
uniform entity in its own right after all.
A
single-file procession of processionary moth caterpillars, whose hairy bodies
should never be touched as the hairs cause extreme irritation (public domain)
Of course, the
above identification does beg the question: if this is truly all that the
hazelworm ever was, how can we explain the reports of exhibited hazelworm
skins, a charred hazelworm skeleton, and other physical evidence purportedly
originating from this officially non-existent creature?
Nothing more
than tall tales and baseless folklore – or a bona fide cryptozoological
conundrum still awaiting a satisfactory solution?
From Iconographia Zoologica,
the larva, adult, and pupa of Sciara militaris – the minute origin of a
monstrous mystery…? (public domain)
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