River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
scene which followed the attempt of the stoats and polecats to cross
{209}the river in order to attack the owl’s castle. They got nearly
half-way across without anybody offering to dispute their passage. Then,
all of a sudden, a strange, wild sound was heard, and a song was borne
down upon the breeze which I knew full well as the war-song of the noble
swans who honour my river by making it their home, and who are well
known as the finest and handsomest swans in all Christendom.
“The swan swam up the stream;
Swim, swan, swim!
The swan swam down again;
Well swam, swan!”
This was the whole of the song; the words are simple, and apparently
convey no particular meaning, being little more than the statement of a
fact which may without difficulty be accepted as true, coupled with an
expression of approval of the manner in which the bird in question had
performed a natural and not uncongenial task. But if you were to hear
this song sung by a number of swans together, all keeping tune exactly,
and sailing down upon you as they sung, with flashing eyes and arched
necks, evidently actuated by no friendly feeling, it is very doubtful
whether you would care much about either the words or their meaning, and
not improbable that you would prefer to be somewhat farther off from the
sounds of the entrancing melody. So at least it certainly was with the
allies of the witches, when a body of at least fifty or sixty swans
(being a larger number than I had ever previously seen together in
any part of my river) suddenly appeared sailing down upon them at full
speed. It was altogether a most extraordinary proceeding on the part
of the noble birds, who, although {210}ready and most able to defend
themselves if attacked, are generally of a quiet and peaceful nature,
and had hitherto, as far as my knowledge went, interfered with none of
the other dwellers in or near the river, but lived in friendship and
harmony with all.
Their intentions, however, upon the present occasion were never for a
moment doubtful after their first appearance. They charged down upon
the army of stoats and polecats with a force and velocity which rendered
resistance impossible. The boats and rafts were at once overset by
the impetuous fury of their attack, and the occupants thereof were in
another instant struggling in the waters. Nor did the swimmers fare
any better, for the powerful blows inflicted by a swan’s beak in every
instance either stunned the animal struck, or so disabled him that he
could swim no farther, but sank beneath the water to rise no more. The
wretched creatures could do nothing to defend themselves, for the swans
were too wary to approach their breasts near enough to any of the savage
little animals to allow of their getting hold of their soft feathers.
They kept far enough off for their own safety, after once upsetting the
boats, and yet sufficiently near to deal out the pecks of death upon the
struggling carcases with little or no risk to themselves. They utterly
broke through and dispersed at once the line of the swimming and
floating army, and then, turning round and coming up stream, slew
multitudes of the wretched animals as they swam for their lives one
way or another. A very few moments sufficed for the total rout of the
witches’ army, not one of which ever reached the shore to which they
were bound, though a few managed to swim back in safety, and those who
had been {211}only just about to enter the river naturally gave up
any further idea of doing so, and fled in great confusion back to the
shelter of the forest from which they had come. The swans, meanwhile,
who had ceased singing their war-song as soon as they reached the enemy,
and had commenced a violent and angry hissing, which they only suspended
when they bowed their heads in order to peck an enemy to his death, now
recommenced their musical strains so soon as they had completely routed
and destroyed the invading army, and swam back up the river with heads
elevated high in the air, shaking themselves now and then with an air of
conscious strength and exultation.
During the progress of these events, Brother Rhine, the state of mind
and general feelings of the three witches may be better imagined than
described. They wept, they howled, they tore what hair they had, they
used language with which I will not sully my lips, and manifested every
token of frantic rage and consternation. Charms and incantations they
would have tried, but they knew well enough that they had no power
whatever over things or beings in my sacred waters. The swans only
laughed at their wild fury and strange gesticulations, and the old
women remained upon the bank, perfectly helpless. Once more their plans
against the owl and his mannikins had utterly failed; and they saw the
destruction of the army which they had taken so much pains to raise,
without the smallest power to avert the catastrophe which again dashed
their fondest hopes to the ground.
At the conclusion of the scene which had terminated so disagreeably to
themselves, the witches, having nearly {212}exhausted themselves with
their rage, calmed down a little, and began to look at each other and
wonder what they should do next. This, however, was not a matter long
left within their own choice; even as they stood, the heavens grew dark
with a mysterious and unnatural darkness, low mutterings of distant
thunder were heard, and the wind wailed mournfully as it swept across
the river and through the trees of the adjoining wood in which stood the
castle of the mannikins.
A deep and distant terror seized upon the three witches as these things
occurred; they felt, somehow or other, that those were near against
whom their magic arts were powerless, and that some wonderful and awful
Presence was at hand which they could neither withstand nor avoid.
Trembling in every limb, they cowered upon the bank, shivering as if
with cold, their teeth chattering, their eyes ready to start out of
their heads with fright, and their hearts beating with that fear of
coming judgment which wickedness always brings sooner or later to hearts
that conceive and practise it. Some internal and inscrutable feeling
seemed to warn them that their hour of punishment was near, and that
retribution was at hand--retribution for all the pain and misery which
they had caused to others ever since they first sold themselves to work
evil instead of endeavouring to lead good and pious lives, and to be a
comfort instead of a plague and torment to their fellow-creatures.
The suspense which they endured during this time was probably something
more terribly painful than one can imagine, and the uncertainty of their
coming doom made it all the more dreadful in anticipation. This state
of things lasted for some little while, and a stillness, solemn {213}and
awful in its intensity, reigned around. The wind fell again, and the
sound of thunder ceased; only the old river went rolling on in its calm,
ceaseless stream, the soothing ripple of which smote upon the ear of the
unhappy witches as the solemn tones of a judge must fall upon the guilty
criminal before him. Each moment seemed an hour to the terror-stricken
old hags, and I imagine that no child who has waited in a dentist’s room
until that popular operator was ready for him has ever endured half the
agony of expectation which was experienced at this time by the three
witches.
At last the silence was broken, and that in a manner which it would have
been impossible for them to have anticipated. The low roll of a drum was
heard in the wood, which sound swelled gradually upon the ear, and was
then mingled with other martial music, evidently betokening the approach
of an army. In a few moments more there issued from the direction of
the owl’s castle a strange and unwonted procession. First of all came
a splendid array of cock pheasants, gay with their bright and gaudy
colours, and carrying their well-known banner of dark blue, in the
centre of which is depicted a magnificent bird of their species looking
round with a defiant air, whilst underneath him is inscribed the
celebrated motto of his race--“Game to the last.” The pheasants were
followed by a strong detachment of partridges, each with his brown
horseshoe strongly developed upon his breast, whilst a golden
wheat-sheaf upon a banner of russet brown, and the motto, “Hurrah for
the harvest-fields!” showed the character of the regiment. They were
followed by a body of woodcocks and snipes, marching {214}in alternate
ranks, and displaying their respective banners, being a bird of each
race worked in blue upon a white ground, and represented as tossing his
long beak high in the air and saying, in the inscription below, “Settle
my bill if you can!” To these succeeded a gallant regiment of bantams,
whose arrogant motto, “Cock of the walk,” was displayed upon their
crimson flags; whilst the “Come back! come back!” of the Guinea-fowl was
seen upon the banners of the next comers. Other bands of birds followed,
each with its own peculiar standard and device, and all marched in slow
and solemn order from the wood to the music already mentioned, which was
played by an invisible band within the leafy shade of the same.
As each regiment emerged from the wood, it advanced within a stone’s
throw of the three witches, and took up ground at that distance, so that
the old women found a semicircle gradually forming around them, which
extended on all sides save that on which the river flowed. When numerous
companies of birds had arrived and taken their places, there next
appeared a strong detachment of squirrels--animals to which it is well
known that witches entertain a peculiar dislike, on account of the
restless activity of their nature, and their constant habit of
dropping nutshells suddenly on the heads of persons engaged in unholy
incantations and rites in the forests wherein they happen to dwell. The
old women shuddered afresh then, when these creatures appeared upon the
scene, especially as they came on, each armed with a bag of nuts, and
with eyes full of mischief. They were followed by a quantity of rabbits,
whose grave and martial appearance would have led you to suppose that
there {215}were no such things as weasels or ferrets in the world; and
after the rabbits came the principal part of the performance.
More than one hundred mannikins, fully armed and equipped, rode out of
the wood, each mounted upon a prancing hare. Their saddles were made
of mouse-skin, their bridles were of the best red tape, and their
tortoiseshell bits rattled in the mouths of their fiery steeds. Each
mannikin had upon his head a burnished helmet of mother-of-pearl, in
which was a plume from the wing of a kingfisher, and the armour of each
was of the best wrought tin, and sparkled gaily in the sunlight, which
now again spread over the heavens as the troops emerged from the trees.
The mannikins rode forward in loose order, whilst immediately after
them came a close carriage, drawn by twelve cream-coloured hares, and
surrounded by twenty mannikins on either side, and a number of owls of
every species and description following behind. The mannikins who had
ridden in front gave way when they approached the witches, falling back
on either side so as to allow the carriage to pass between their
ranks. It drew up immediately before the three trembling hags, and the
attendant mannikins, bowing low and uncovering their heads, opened the
doors for its occupant to descend.
You can have little doubt, Brother Rhine, as to who that occupant was,
nor, indeed, was doubt long permitted to the personages most immediately
interested in the drama about to be performed. From forth the carriage
stepped a figure which all at the same moment recognised as that of the