Are the French snorting

Legends about Heidenheim

No, it wasn't easy for the Hürben people in the old days: wedged between swampy valleys and stony heights, the few inhabitants of the small village already had enough work to provide for their daily bread - and then the place had next to its own lords of the castle to take care of the "de Hurwins" on the high cliff in the middle of the village, and later also the nearby and much larger Kaltenburg. Both festivals also guaranteed that at every war, armies would invade the defenseless village and devastate it. No wonder that the Hürben people were full of suffering and plague - and also no wonder that the legend of the "white dog at the Hausener Lucke" used to be told here: Because the Hürbe carried very little water regularly , one was once dependent on foreign mills in Hürben - like those in Eselsburg, where the Albrecht miller let his grinder rattle. He was a terrifyingly tall man with two hands that lifted a sack of flour as if it were only filled with straw and chaff. The Albrecht-Müller was not contradicted: Not his journeymen who ducked under his thundering roar - and not even as a farmer from Hürben when his poor harvest was brought to the mill. It had always been rumored in Hürben that the miller liked to cheat the farmers: the few sacks of flour that he got back from the laboriously extracted grain seemed far too poor. There were no contradictions. Albrecht-Müller got on well with the gentlemen, and anyone who dared to doubt the miller's honesty could be happy if he only got blows. "More flour from your miserable grain?", The miller then roared: "Be happy if I grind it at all, you rabble!" And be it the club of the angry giant or the mighty farm dog that Albrecht-Müller then set on people: The miller just seemed to be right when he said: "Anyone who moves against me will soon stop moving. " It had been like this for as long as anyone can remember - but then the Thirty Years' War swept across the country and its armies brought hardship and misery. Men and women were slaughtered, farms and fields went up in flames. There was starvation everywhere, and Hurben was hit particularly badly once again. Hardly a barn, hardly a pantry that has not been cleared out by raging mercenaries. Albrecht-Müller, however, seemed to be in league with the devil. His stately home, of all places, was spared, and in all the hardship his storerooms were filled with sacks of flour that seemed to come out of nowhere. The miller remained well-fed and seemed almost stronger than ever - and he remained harder than his hardest millstone. He drove the starving farmers who asked him for a gift from his abundant storerooms and laughed at their misery. One day in winter, however, a whole row of ragged farmers from Hürben came to the mill - and sheer desperation drove them no longer to beg but to demand. As firmly as their weak legs allowed, they stepped out of the cold into the mill, up to the grinding floor and in front of Albrecht-Müller: "All these years," they said, "you have lived more than well on our grain. Now give us back what you cheated us out of. " Nobody had ever spoken to Albrecht-Müller like this before - and the giant was furious. With his own hands and with a roaring roar, he threw the starved peasants from the grinding floor into the depths that cracked their bones. "And if I had betrayed you, what would you like to do?" He shouted after the seriously injured. "Anyone who moves against me will soon stop moving!" Satisfied, he watched the peasants drag themselves away - but then he saw a little boy who had come with the Hürbeners and was now carrying his doublet over his shoulder like a sack - full of flour that he had taken from a sack while he was fleeing would have. It will hardly have been more than the flour for a handful of bread, but now the fraudulent miller felt cheated. He let go of his huge dog with a hell of a rage, and although the boy ran with all his might, the animal finally caught up with him at the Hausener Lucke and cut him down. But Albrecht-Müller, it is said, had broken his last cold-heartedness: a curse must have hit him, because the next morning his journeymen looked for him in vain, and he disappeared from the ground just like his huge dog. But what has been seen again and again since those days was a ghostly dog, bigger even than the miller's beast - and white as flour. In the twilight hour the apparition haunted the Hausner Lucke, precisely where the starving farmer's boy had died. And the Hürbenern quickly realized that it could only be the ghost of the haunted miller. Because whoever ran into the creepy animal would stop dead in his tracks: "Anyone who moves against me will soon not move any more." But Albrecht-Müller's reign of terror was broken nonetheless. Soon there were two ways in and around Hürben how one could free oneself from the spell of the white dog: At the Hausener Lucke, as the ancients have been saying since then, a quick prayer helps - or a curse, as loud and violent as it is from here Albrecht miller's mouth.