River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
she lifted up her arm, about to give the Baroness a box on the ears
with her full force. But in the very act she paused--stopped--and stood
trembling and irresolute, as if suddenly arrested by some superior
power.
At the same moment, and apparently by the same influence, the peasants
one and all felt themselves restrained from moving forwards, the
Baroness ceased to scream, and a dead silence fell upon the whole of
the party, whilst, with a low and miserable moan, the false heir crept
behind the coal-scuttle, and crouched himself down within as small a
compass as possible. The whole of this marvellous effect had apparently
been produced by a very trifling cause. The low, tinkling sound of a
harp was heard, and those who looked round in the right direction saw,
standing in the embrasure of one {096}of the windows which looked
out upon the lake, an old man of by no means noble or prepossessing
exterior, with a leaf-crowned hat upon his head, and a harp of very
simple construction in his hands, from the strings of which he elicited
the sound they had heard, to which he now added that of his own
voice. And thus he sang, in a dull, monotonous tone, to the astonished
audience:--
“Whoever murders, robs, and loots,
Within these walls of Bandelboots,
Must hear his doom and take his choice,
Instructed by the Harper’s voice.
Ye men of form and manners rough,
Old Bandelboots has woes enough,
The which when ye have heard and known
You’ll leave the worthy man alone.
To you and yours he’s done no harm,
But, subject to a potent charm,
Has suffered woes, by demon sent,
Enough to make your hearts relent.
T’ expose the wickedness be mine
(In spite of demons of the Rhine),
And ye who list shall know ere long
The truth and justice of my song.
There was an infant once, who smiled
On those around like angel child;
A child of soul and temper rare--
Of Bandelboots the precious heir.
Where now that child is to be found,
Who knows? I pause, and look around,
And ask if this description suits
The present heir of Bandelboots?
What is that wretched changeling worth?
Come forth, vile elf, at once come forth!”
Here the stranger paused, and, to the wonder and surprise of all those
who heard and saw, the supposed young heir crept moaning and whining
from behind the coal-scuttle, and shambled across the room towards the
window {097}at which the old harper was standing. As he did so, the
strange bard continued his song,--
“Form of boy, with heart of ape,
Resume at once thy former shape!”
As he spoke, a strange transformation came at once over the wretched
imp. His boyish shape disappeared; a tail shot out where tails usually
grow; the wings of a bat sprang upon his shoulders; his form became ugly
and misshapen, and he stood before them all a regular devilet, and no
mistake! At the very same instant the window behind the harper flew open
as if by magic, and in flew a figure similar to that before them, from
which, however, the wings and tail dropped, the evil shape disappeared,
and a handsome, well-proportioned boy, with a remarkably sweet
expression upon his countenance, stood before the astonished party.
In an instant a shriek of joy was heard from the corner in which some
of the trembling servants were assembled, and old nurse Grutchen rushed
forward and threw herself upon the boy’s neck with a burst of mingled
sobs and laughter. “My pet! my darling! my child!” she cried. “It _is_
you! I know it is you! Come to old Sophie then, my pearl of the world;”
and again she shrieked with joy.
More {098}wonders followed before any of the audience had recovered from
their astonishment at what had already occurred. With a yell and a
howl the devilet flew towards the window, his passage through which was
mightily assisted by a hearty kick from the old harper, and he was seen
no more. Scarcely, however, had he left the scene when the rushing of
wings was heard, and three magnificent swans sailed through the window
and alighted in the room, exactly in front of the old harper, to whom
they looked up with longing and affectionate glances. The worthy man at
once struck his harp again, and sang as follows:--
“Old Bandelboots, as well ye wot,
Had once three lovely daughters,
For whom the place became too hot,
Through imps from river waters.
Then the Rhine King (a wondrous thing,
Which needs some explanation)
His aid did to the maidens bring,
Gave each Swan’s plumage, neck, and wing,
And caused their transformation.
Now here the three together be
(Performed their destined duties),
And I decree they shall be free
Once more. Arise, my beauties!”
As he ceased speaking the feathers fell off from the three swans, their
beaks changed into beautiful noses, their forms became those of lovely
young ladies, and Dora, Bertha, and Elladine once more stood in their
proper shapes before their surprised and delighted parents.
Whilst this had been going on, the youthful Hubert, making one bound
forward, sprang to his mother’s chair, and, seizing a dagger from the
hand of a bewildered {099}peasant, set her free in an instant. Upon this
the Baroness, overcome by mingled emotions of joy and wonder, wept upon
her boy’s neck, and the old harper thus continued, addressing himself
emphatically to the crowd of peasants before him:--
“Poor knaves! who quake and shake with fear,
O’erwhelmed with terror and with shame,
The powers of evil lured ye here:
Theirs and not yours, the chiefest blame.
Hence! fly! be off! your injured lord
For this day’s work will pardon give:
For him I speak this kindly word:,
To-day he knows his children live.
Begone, I say! and, as to wrongs,
Yours are but small; the fiends beshrew ye.
If e’er ye listen to false tongues
Which lie about your masters to ye!
Be each contented with his lot--
Both rich and poor this world containeth;
But let this truth be ne’er forgot--
O’er rich and poor ‘tis God that reigneth;
Nor is full happiness e’er given
To mortal man this side of heaven.”
He spoke, and, as he concluded, the peasants, half frightened and half
ashamed, began to steal away by twos and threes at a time, until none
of them were left behind. The Baron, who had listened with the utmost
attention to the words of the old harper, now stepped forward and
tenderly embraced his daughters, after which he clasped his recovered
boy to his heart, and vowed that upon that joyous day no one should be
punished, and even the treacherous peasants who had invaded his castle
should be freely forgiven.
The Baroness fell weeping on her husband’s heart, loudly bewailed her
own infirmity of temper, and vowed that she would never fly into a
passion again. At this the {100}Baron, whilst her face was hidden upon
his shoulder, slowly elevated his right hand, placed his forefinger
horizontally against the side of his nose, and winked knowingly at his
daughters.
Presently the Baroness raised her head, and, in tones of some feeling,
asked what had become of that wretched Martha, gnashing her teeth as
she spoke with an air that inspired considerable doubts as to her being’
able to keep her new resolution. This, however, was not put to the test
as far as Martha was concerned. As soon as she perceived that things
were going wrong, but that the harper was not alluding to _her_ in his
verse, that worthy person slipped quietly from the room and the castle,
and sought refuge in the wood where her wehr-wolves usually met her. The
animals were there as at other times, but their reception of her was not
the same. No sooner was she within the wood than the expression of their
countenances grew strange and fierce, so that the woman trembled all
over. In another instant they seized upon her and dragged her, one on
each side, near to where the wood touched the banks of the river. Wildly
she shrieked for aid, and in another moment the form of the River-demon
appeared upon the bank. This time, however, he had no cheering counsel
to give. With a wild and derisive laugh he pointed jeeringly at
the unhappy woman, whom the wehr-wolves held fast, while they
growled-fearfully and savagely all the while.
“Ha, Martha!” he cried, “hast thou come to the end of thy revenge at
last? They who seek demon-help must have demon-punishment, and thine
hour is come to-day. Know this, poor wretch! that those who yield to
their passions cherish within them that which will one {101}day tear and
destroy them as the wehr-wolves are about to do to thee, and those who
wish for a happy end must control and govern themselves on the
journey!” Then, with a fiendish leer and grin, he nodded his head to the
wehr-wolves, and in another moment the wretched Martha was tom limb from
limb, and perished miserably. Folks say that her spirit still haunts
that wood, and that on dark and stormy nights her shrieks may be heard,
accompanied by the growling of the wehr-wolves and the laugh of the
exulting demon. But you and I, Brother Thames, know well how foolish
mortals are with their tales of horror, and how ready they are to
mistake a creaking tree for a shriek and a moonbeam for a spirit.
I have nothing more to say except that when the Baron and Baroness
turned round to bless the old harper for his kindly aid, they saw
nothing where he had been standing save the light of the sweet, pale
moon shining in through the window. The harper had gone without waiting
to be thanked, and they saw him no more. From thenceforth no spirits
troubled the Bandelboots family, save when the Baron took an extra glass
of brandy, which occasionally flew to his toe. The Baroness decidedly
improved in temper, profiting by the example of her son, who grew up to
be one of the most sweet-tempered and agreeable young noblemen that ever
lived upon the banks of my river. Of the three girls, I can only
say that as they made excellent daughters and capital sisters, they
succeeded equally well when they entered upon the cares and joys of
matrimony, and no women, married or single, were more often toasted
in good Steinburgh than the three famous beauties, {102}the swan-like
daughters of the Baron von Bandelboots.
Father Rhine here ceased, and as soon as he had done so Father Thames
struck a tremendous blow upon the table and vowed that the story he
had just heard was one of the best that had ever been told. “I wish,
however,” said he, “that you could have told us a little more upon one
or two points, Brother Rhine. It would be satisfactory to know that the
rascally little scamp of a devilet was well punished when he got home;
but I suppose you know not whether such was the case or what became of
him afterwards?”
“No,” Brother Thames, gravely replied the monarch of the Rhine, “I know
not; and in fact I have always kept as much as possible aloof from the
demons of my river, only showing them that ordinary civility which is
rendered necessary by my position. I have little doubt, however, that
the imp had misery enough in his future existence. No one who habitually
annoys and injures others can ever have any real happiness himself, and,