River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
From hurting thee each snake shall stop
For forty hours. If out of heart,
Come back and take another drop.”
This went on until the whole of that part of the army which had
entertained fears, founded upon the habits and natures of those with
whom they were about to serve as comrades, had passed before the witch,
and been treated in the manner which I have described.
All now seemed ready, and at the appointed time the attacking force
moved forward in the order which had been previously arranged. It was a
lovely evening; not a breath was stirring in the sky above, the moon was
shining clearly, and everything was calm and peaceful, save the hearts
of the wicked creatures who were plotting and endeavouring to accomplish
the utter ruin and destruction of the innocent mannikins. They,
meanwhile, would very likely have been taken by surprise if they had
been left to their own unassisted strength. Such was the simplicity of
their nature, that they suspected {195}no evil, even when preparations
against them were being made so actively and openly that they might
easily have guessed that mischief was brewing. Nevertheless, they paid
no attention whatever to what was going on, but played about just the
same as usual until the enemy had matured his plans and was almost ready
for action. Then, indeed, they were roused by the wise and powerful
protector whose authority they acknowledged.
The owl summoned them from their sports upon the very day for which the
witches had appointed the assault upon the castle, and informed them
that they must prepare to defend themselves against an enemy who was
about to attack them. He gave minute instructions as to what was to be
done, and how the castle was to be saved, if possible, from its enemies;
and pointed out to his subjects that upon the result of the combat their
happiness for the future, nay, their very lives, depended. Should the
witches be successful, the mannikins would be either killed or driven
away, unless, indeed, they suffered the still worse fate of being taken
prisoners, in which case they would probably be transformed into ugly
and loathsome creatures by their victorious enemies, whom they would
have to serve in abject and miserable slavery for the remainder of their
existence. It therefore behoved them to be up and stirring, in order to
save themselves and their friends from so cruel a fate.
The little people required no further words in order to awaken their
martial enthusiasm: they had already suffered enough from the cruel and
unprovoked enmity of the witches, and this daring attempt to destroy
their beloved {196}home and themselves was enough to excite the spirit
of the quietest and most peaceable mannikin. So without delay they began
their preparations for resistance to the coming attack, and implicitly
obeyed the directions of their monarch in each and every particular.
They were hurrying to and fro all the day, but by nightfall all was
ready, and the inhabitants of the castle awaited with calmness and
confidence the approach of the hostile army.
The wood around the castle seemed alive that night. The eyes of the
numerous creeping animals glittered like fireballs as they crawled
through the leaves, and the rustling of the bats’ wings sounded like the
wind among the trees as they hastened forward. On all sides the castle
was surrounded by its enemies, and the witches gave the signal for an
immediate assault. With marvellous rapidity the snakes glided in at
every hole and crevice of the old walls; the rats scampered up them in
every direction, squeaking violently; whilst the hoarse croaking of the
frogs, mingled with the spitting of the toads, sounded fearfully through
the forest in the stillness of that summer’s night.
The attacking party found their first obstacle to be one of an
unexpected character. Hardly had any of the snakes insinuated his
wriggling body into a hole before he found that it was in every instance
full of minute fragments of broken glass, with the sharp points upwards,
which so lacerated his skin that he could hardly move backwards or
forwards without considerable pain, and some of those who had dashed
forward with the greatest impetuosity, so injured themselves in
the passage that they never reached the interior of the castle, but
{197}remained fixed in the holes which they had attempted to pass,
lingering until sunset next day (at which time alone snakes can die),
and then perishing miserably. The rats found a similar difficulty, but,
being resolute and crafty, ran over the walls where they could not creep
through, and arrived in the courtyard of the castle without losing any
considerable number of their forces. But the toads and frogs had a rough
time of it. To them it would have been a long and tedious business to
climb over the walls, and the few breaches which were left temptingly
open and undefended on their side of the attack were the only mode of
entrance which they could try with any hopes of success. These, however,
were entirely flooded with liquid tar, which the mannikins had poured
with great care upon the flat stones and hard ground, and which caused
the attacking party the greatest possible difficulty, a great many of
them remaining fast stuck in the disagreeable mixture, until death by
starvation terminated their sufferings. After a time, however, by dint
of clambering over each other’s bodies, a large number of them succeeded
in obtaining an entrance, and the courtyards of the castle were filled
with noxious creatures of all sorts.
All this time not a mannikin had shown himself, and no visible sign,
other than the obstacles which I have mentioned, had been given that the
castle was defended by any one. The witches, who of course were close
at hand, scarcely liked the ominous silence which prevailed on the part
of their enemies; there was something mysterious about it which they did
not understand. They knew, however, that their friends within must not
be left unsupported, and accordingly sounded the advance {198}of the
reserve. Mother Wandle, heading a large force of bats, flew gallantly
forward on one side; Dame Stokes, with a body of Cats and evil animals,
charged on the other; whilst old Goody Tickleback hovered about close
by on her awful steed, surrounded by the hooded crows and other wicked
birds who had joined the witches’ army; for the wary old woman, who knew
more about magic than any of her mates, had her own suspicions as to
the possible strength of the powers arrayed against her, and had always
determined from the first that she would throw as much of the hard work
of fighting as she could upon the others, and, Under pretence of keeping
a small force in reserve for contingencies, would remain outside the
walls of the owl’s castle. You will presently judge of her wisdom by the
events which followed.
Scarcely had the bats On one side, and the cats on the other, passed
the castle walls, when a voice, the loud and clear accents of which were
distinctly heard above the cries of the assaulting party, exclaimed,
“Light the gas!” and in another moment a blaze of light illuminated the
whole place with a brightness beyond that of the sun’s own rays. Every
corner and crevice was lighted up with wondrous brilliancy, and no
concealment was any longer possible for any mortal being. Then, in every
niche of the old walls, upon the old staircases, at the windows, and
on the crumbling ledges around, a quantity of armed mannikins were seen
standing ready for action, whilst one window alone remained unlit and
mysteriously dark, and there were those present who knew at that moment,
if they had never known before, that the owl who sat in that window was
a mighty magician, {199} and that a Power unseen and unfelt as yet, but
too terrible for evil witches and their followers, dwelt within those
old walls.
The effect of the light upon the unhappy bats was perfectly marvellous;
dazzled and blinded, they knew not what to do nor where to fly; some
dashed themselves up against the walls and put an end to their own
lives; others flew straight up to the mannikins, and fell an easy prey
to the latter, who, with their little swords drawn, stood ready to
strike down each foeman as he approached, and dealt stout blows upon the
blinded bats who came within their reach. Mother Wandle herself by no
means relished her reception; she was nearly overwhelmed by her own
retreating forces, and at the same time the light, to which she had a
great objection, annoyed her extremely, and she began to consider that
her best course would be to retreat as fast as possible. As she did so,
however, she felt, to her great disgust and horror, an invisible hand,
or rather claw, laid upon her neck, whilst a voice whispered in low but
perfectly audible tones close to her ear--
“Vile daughter of evil, who wast not afraid
The mighty Owl’s castle and home to invade,
Do thou and thy sisters look well to this text--.
_A whipping the first time; beware of the next!_”
And, as the voice ceased, the claw was loosened from her neck, and she
instantly felt upon her bat’s body severe strokes as of a birch-rod
aimed by the strong arm and unerring eye of a resolute head-master:
quick and sharp the blows descended upon the luckless old hag, and as
the skin of a witch (these creatures being, from the evil consciences
which prevent their getting fat, {200}rarely burdened with much flesh)
is proverbially tender, she suffered considerably more than any of my
boys here at Eton would have done under similar circumstances. Mother
Wandle, however, shrieked and fled as fast as she could, followed by as
many of her bats as were destined to escape at all from that ill-fated
day.
Dame Stokes and her cats fared but little better on their side. Although
the light had not the same effect upon this party as upon the bats, they
found it exceedingly disagreeable, whilst there was something else which
affected their nerves even in a still greater degree. The mannikins who
stood upon a portion of the inner walls of the castle exactly opposite
to that outer wall upon which the cats had climbed to the assault,
opened upon the latter a fire, so to speak, of a novel character. They
had arranged and brought to bear upon this part of the wall several
garden watering-engines of great power, numerous squirts, and the
special engine of the Windsor Fire Brigade of that day. By means of
these instruments they received the invaders with such a continuous
volley and volume of water as would have checked persons to whom the
element is more agreeable than is the case with cats. These animals
have, as is well known to the student of natural history, an instinctive
aversion to wetting their fur. Under the peculiar circumstances of the
case, they might have put up with a shower of rain, or have endured a
casual wetting, followed by facilities for drying themselves immediately
afterwards. But to be received by a heavy and violent shower of water
right in their faces, drenching them at once through and through,
{201}and being immediately repeated, and continued without any
intermission, was more than the bravest cat could bear; and as soon as
they found what kind of reception they were to experience, no thought of
shame or disgrace deterred the feline contingent from turning tail and
retreating as fast as ever they could by the same way they had come,
only some twenty or thirty dropping down within the castle wall. As they
fled in this manner, the same mysterious voice whispered to Dame
Stokes the identical words of warning which had greeted the ears of her
sister-witch, Mother Wandle; and although, having assumed no other
form than her own, her sex might have protected her from so great