River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
Baron Edward Hugessen Knatchbull-Hugessen Brabourne
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Contents and reading sections
RIVER LEGENDS
OR FATHER THAMES AND FATHER RHINE
By E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen
With Illustrations By Gustave Doré
1875
LIST OF ENGRAVINGS.
FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.
Hans and his Prisoner................Frontispiece
The Baron’s Oath.....To face page.............107
The Father of all Giants......................140
Powle’s Advance on the Castle.................242
TEXT ILLUSTRATIONS.
Father Thames and Father Rhine................003
The Messenger.................................005
Father Thames after his Ale...................006
The Boar......................................008
The Boar’s Family.............................010
The Infant Smith..............................013
The Sacrifice of Smith’s Father...............015
Smith in Toad-land............................018
The Snakes....................................022
Bertha the Druidess...........................027
The Road into the Forest......................035
The Last of the Boar..........................046
The Baroness and her back hair................056
Father Rhine and his Elves....................059
The River-Demon Thief.........................064
The Greedy Child..............................067
The Devilet...................................072
Martha rousing the Peasants...................078
Father Rhine and the three Baronesses.........081
The Swan-sisters..............................084
Crazy Timothy.................................092
The Old Harper................................097
She keeps the Pigs............................115
She watches the Battle........................132
Giants Mountain-building......................143
Bramble-buffer Storm-making...................148
He uproots the Tree...........................153
Hans sent aloft...............................163
Hans in the Giant’s Mouth.....................166
The Mouth Fortified...........................167
The Giant weeps...............................170
The Giant’s Release...........................173
The Castle....................................181
Mannikins at Play.............................187
Goody Tickleback’s Steed......................188
Flight of the Witches.........................202
The Sea-serpent...............................225
Father Rhine’s Retreat........................252
{001}
RIVER LEGENDS
OR
FATHER THAMES AND FATHER RHINE
I HAD been down to spend a summer’s day at Eton. Dear old Eton! There is
no place where a summer’s day can be more happily spent, especially by
those to whom the spot is hallowed by the memory of boyish days. The
“playing-fields” are delightful, in spite of the passage through the
same being a service of danger when cricket-balls whiz recklessly past
your ear, and a courteous “thank you!” invites your hand to restore to
its owner the engine which has nearly broken your head. “Poet’s Walk”
is charming, although its memories may not be entirely pleasant if you
chance in your boyhood to have been “fag” to some “sixth-form”
master whose tea you had to carry out to that pleasant resort. The
“school-yard” also is not without its recommendations, though when one
has attained the mature age of forty-five one feels rather as if one had
no business there, standing among a crowd of fellows of a younger and
happier age, the only idler among the number.
On {002}the particular day of which I speak, I had rambled about
with those boys I knew, gathered as much pleasure as I could from
the memories which clung around the precincts of the old college, and
afterwards strolled out along the banks of the river in the direction of
Surly. The weather being rather hot, although evening was approaching,
I thought it well to halt in the immediate neighbourhood of Surly Hall,
and having seated myself in the shadiest place I could find, began to
think over the various “Fourths of June” and “Election Saturdays” which
I had witnessed in that famous locality, until I not unnaturally fell
fast asleep. I do not know how long I remained in this comfortable
state, but I was suddenly aroused by the sound of voices, and
immediately opened my eyes and looked around to discover the quarter
from which they proceeded. It was not long before I was enlightened upon
this point.
Nearly opposite the spot upon which I had seated myself was a little
island in the very middle of the river, dividing the water which flowed
on each side of it and left it high and dry. This island was of no great
size, and, I should imagine, of no great value either, being covered
with reeds and willows, and apparently fit for nothing except to afford
shelter to moor-hens and water-rats, which creatures probably found
it an exceedingly convenient habitation. Upon the present occasion,
however, beings of a different nature altogether appeared to have taken
possession of the island. At a plain deal table were seated two ancient
individuals of kingly and majestic mien. He who sat at the end of the
table wore a white beard of mighty size, which streamed downward to his
waist; whilst his companion, who {003}sat at his right hand, and was of
a dark and swarthy complexion, boasted but little beard, but made up
for the deficiency by the size and length of the black appendages which
adorned his upper lip. Each of these two kings (for such the crowns upon
their heads betokened them to be, and the regal dignity of their general
appearance gave further proof of their condition) grasped in his hand a
tumbler which was apparently full of liquor more potent than the water
which flowed around them, whilst a huge pewter pot (which constituted
the only other furniture of their table) bore witness to the quarter
from whence their potations had been supplied.
As I regarded these two strange beings with an astonishment not
altogether unmixed with reverential awe (for I saw at once that they
were more than ordinary mortals), he at the end of the table broke
silence, and striking his fist upon the board in an emphatic manner,
thus addressed his companion: “Brother Rhine!” {004}said he, “welcome to
old England. Thames gives thee hearty welcome.” The other gravely bowed
his head in acknowledgment of this cordial speech, but uttered no word
in reply, and methought I perceived upon his royal countenance some
signs such as appear upon the face of a passenger between Dover and
Calais whom the ocean has rudely shaken. Father Thames (for as such I
instinctively recognised the first speaker) appeared to make a somewhat
similar observation, for he forthwith addressed his friend a second time
in these words: “What aileth thee, Brother Rhine? Lovest thou not this
change of climate, or dost thou fear that thy waters will overflow or
thy tributary streams rebel during thy brief absence?”
He who was thus accosted smiled grimly, and stroked his dark moustache
as he made answer: “Neither the one nor the other, Brother Thames. It
is but thine English ale which is somewhat more potent than my native
drink. But, craving thy pardon, the matter will soon be set right. A
trusty messenger should by this time be arriving with a supply of mine
own Rhine wine, and I would fain have thee try the vintage.”
The countenance of Father Thames visibly darkened. “I forsake not mine
ale,” said he gloomily. “It gladdens the heart and strengthens the frame
more than the juice of grape.”
“And yet,” replied the other, “there are merry hearts, strong frames,
and brave spirits in plenty upon my banks; and thus it has ever been, as
many an old legend can well bear witness.”
“Doubtless,” responded Father Thames, though still somewhat moodily.
“But yet for legends and stories of {005}the olden time my river lacketh
not a good supply, nor are British hearts less merry or British spirits
less brave than those of whom thou makest thy boast.”
“I doubt it not, I doubt it not,” rejoined the monarch of the Rhine.
“But see, here comes my messenger!” As he spoke, I looked up and beheld
an enormous eagle, carrying a huge silver flagon in his beak and another
in each of his claws, and hovering immediately over the heads of the two
kings. Presently he alighted, deposited his precious burdens upon the
table directly in front of the Rhine king, and obediently waited for
orders {006}behind his master. The latter lost no time in hesitation
over his course of procedure. Taking up the vessel from which he had
recently drank, he dipped it several times in the running water at his
feet until all traces of the ale had disappeared, then, filling it
full with sparkling wine from one of the flagons before him, he looked
steadily at his companion, gravely inclined his head towards him, and
then tossed off his liquor with an air of supreme satisfaction, and
replaced his tumbler upon the table.
Father Thames meanwhile had not been idle. Whilst his brother king
was thus engaged, he had drawn the pewter pot nearer to himself and
replenished his tumbler with foaming ale. “Your health, Brother Rhine,”
he shouted in a stentorian voice, and winking one eye in a peculiar but
not unpleasant manner, he drained his glass to the dregs. A change at
once appeared to come over his countenance--it positively sparkled with
fun; a species of light appeared to play around his head as if the rays
of the sun had come to give a parting radiance to his crown before they
retired for the night. His whole face beamed with internal and intense
satisfaction, and once more striking his hand on the table, he spoke
thus: “Brother Rhine, we have each his own liquor and each his own
river. Let {007}each enjoy his own! Live and let live. But whilst we sit
here so happily, let us while away the time by recounting some of the
legends for which our banks are so famous, and of which we each have a
good store.”
“Agreed!” cried he of the Rhine; “and as thou hast proposed the pastime,
Brother Thames, do thou begin.” Thus adjured, Father Thames, having
previously filled and emptied his tumbler once more, cleared his throat
and commenced the history of--
THE GREAT BOAR OF WINDSOR FOREST
I need scarcely tell you that England was not always what it is to-day,
and that the advance of time has wrought very considerable changes in
the scenery of the country through which the waters of the Thames hold
their course. The river which bears my name now washes fertile shores
which were once barren plains, and pleasant towns and smiling meadows
have replaced wild thickets and dense forests. I suppose there never
was a more delightful forest than that of which Windsor can boast. When
mortals speak of Windsor Forest, they generally associate therewith the
name of Herne the Hunter, who was quite a character in his way, had an
oak of his own, and has had more than one very readable story written
about him. But Herne the Hunter is quite a modern hero compared with
those of whom I am about to tell you. I speak of old, very old days,
and if I do not give you the exact date when the events occurred which I
shall presently relate, it is only because I haven’t the least idea
what that {008}date may have been. But, be it what you will, it is an
undoubted fact that long, long ago there was a forest which stretched
down to the very edge of my river near to this particular spot, and this
forest was the abode of many strange and incomprehensible beings.
Perhaps the most curious and most disagreeable of these in the days