River Legends; Or, Father Thames and Father Rhine
beast was in sad condition. It was laden with a heavy load of brooms,
and its speaking eyes seemed to tell of much privation and suffering. I
seemed somehow or other to remember the expression of the face, and in a
few moments recalled the circumstances of which I have just been telling
you. There indeed was old Dame Stokes, serving out her time in long
apprenticeship to misery and punishment, and experiencing that practical
application of the broomstick which the owl-fairy had foretold. I passed
on my way to the river, and sighed as I thought over her fate, pondering
meanwhile upon the melancholy fact that sin should be so attractive as
it had proved to this old woman, when its punishment, sooner or later,
is so certain and is of so much more enduring a character than the
questionable pleasure which has earned it.
As to Mother Wandle, there is but little to tell of her. As soon as
she was permitted to do so, she flitted away across my river in the
direction of Windsor Forest, and, for anything I know, may be there
still. Bats are not creatures that one ever hears much of, nor have I
been accustomed to interest myself particularly in their proceedings;
but if you happen to see an especially ugly and repulsive bat, it is
quite as likely to be old Mother Wandle as anybody else, and you may be
sure that she is still enduring the punishment so justly inflicted upon
her by a righteous judge.
Goody {224}Tickleback’s exit from the scene was of a more marked and
singular character. It would have been difficult to have disposed of so
gigantic a monster by any ordinary process. It could not have travelled
by land to the ocean, except on wheels; and although it might have been
possible to have paid expenses by sending it thither in the caravan of
a travelling showman--supposing a vehicle of that description, and of
sufficiently large size, to have been in being--such a course would have
been scarcely consistent with the usage of fairyland, or with the nature
and circumstances of the case. It might, of course, have been possible
to have floated the creature down the waters of my river, but against
such a proceeding my nymphs, elves, and swans would have protested
indignantly, even had I been disposed for a moment to sanction it.
Besides this, the inconvenience to traffic, and the bad odour which so
foul a reptile would leave in the water, not to mention its possible
indulgence in some mischievous and destructive habits which would have
brought the river into bad repute, were all difficulties in the way. I
could not allow a “Thames nuisance” to be thus originated which would
have been probably fraught with most unpleasant consequences, and could
have done no possible good to anybody. This, therefore, being out of the
question, it only remained for the owl-fairy to exercise his magic power
somewhat further, and get rid of the vast and cumbrous body which he
had seen fit to create. The wonderful being made not the slightest
difficulty. Waving his rod three times above his head, and describing
with it a circle in the air, he struck upon the ground, which
immediately opened wide beneath the hideous {225}serpent, and exhibited
an enormous chasm, down which it slowly disappeared, and was seen no
more in those regions of the earth.
Marvellous legends, however, have been told of the great Sea-serpent
since that day, and those who know the circumstances which I have
related are able to judge of their truth better than the ignorant and
unlearned.
At times, when, far out at sea, the waves are running mountains high,
the ship can scarce weather the storm, and some of the affrighted
sailors have betaken themselves to their boats in hopes to preserve
their lives, a hideous monster is said to rise from the deep, encircling
and crushing the boat with its gigantic coil, and striking with its
cruel fangs the drowning mariners. At other times, when all is calm,
and the surface of the ocean ripples softly, like a lake stirred by the
zephyrs’ softest breath, {226}a huge and awful form may be seen floating
on the waves, slowly making its way through the waters, and ever
and anon raising its hideous serpent-head aloft, as if in search of
something to injure or destroy. Wonderful tales do the sailor men bring
home of this extraordinary creature, and wise folk oftentimes shake
their heads and affect to disbelieve in its existence. But we, Brother
Rhine, who know this chronicle of early days which I have just been
telling, shake no heads over the matter, and entertain no doubt of the
reality of the sight which the sons of Neptune aver that they have seen.
Old Goody Tickleback is the great Sea-serpent, and my only wonder is
that, when the great owl-fairy was about it, he did not put her out of
the way altogether, instead of leaving her in a position in which she
could still work so much mischief to mortal men. I suppose, however,
that fairies, like other people, know their own business best; and there
was probably some reason against this self-evidently wise course which
does not occur to those who do not happen themselves to be fairies.
In this manner, anyhow, the three witches were comfortably disposed of,
and, to my mind, there never was a clearer case of “a good riddance of
bad rubbish.” Having accomplished his task, the owl-fairy now reentered
his carriage, and directed the troops to pass before him, which they
accordingly did, each company saluting as it passed. The review being
finished, the whole procession returned to the wood in the same order
as that in which they had emerged from it, and in a very short time the
banks of the river were as quiet as if nothing unusual had happened.
The mannikins were never {227}afterwards molested by witches or any such
nefarious customers, and, as long as they chose to inhabit the castle,
they were perfectly free from disturbance or attack. Time at last did
its work upon the old walls, and when the hum of the steam-engine began
to be heard in the land this was no longer a place for mannikins. They
flitted I know not where, and the owl-fairy doubtless went with them. I
could perhaps tell you more, but melancholy thoughts come over me as I
speak of the departure of old friends and neighbours, and I think, with
your good leave, I will here bring my legend to a conclusion.
“Thanks, good brother,” said the Monarch of the Rhine, as Father Thames
ceased speaking. “Yet would I fain inquire who or what was this great
owl-fairy?”
His companion smiled grimly. “Hast thou so soon forgotten thine own
objection to questions concerning our legends when finished?” he asked.
“Nevertheless I would tell thee if I could, but I fear to speak with
certainty upon a subject which has ever been shrouded in doubt. Most
authorities agree that this mighty being could be none other than he
of whom mention was made in my first legend--that of the Wild Boar
of Windsor Forest. But the great fairy, Toddlekins, did not announce
himself on the occasion of the transformation of the three witches;
and the only proof that it was he who reigned over the mannikins and
delivered them from their enemies consists in the similarity of his
appearance with that of the rescuer of Smith in the Druid days. I
incline to think it may have been him; and we know that wherever
Toddlekins has power good prevails {228}and evil flies from his
presence; but more I cannot tell you.”
“Be it so, brother,” returned he of the Rhine; “the matter, anyhow,
ended well, and I would that my Rhineland had a fairy Toddlekins as well
as thy favoured country.”
Father Thames smiled grimly. “There never could be two such as
Toddlekins in this world,” replied he; “and it is a blessing for me and
mine that there has been one. But come, Brother Rhine, there is yet
time for another legend. Hast thou none of the old war times, and of the
brave German barons who fought so oft and so fiercely?”
“Ay, that have I, many an one,” responded the other. “I bethink me,
moreover, of one which is not strictly or wholly of mine own land, nor
in truth do I know precisely to what land it can be said entirely to
belong. It is one, however, which has been handed down to us in verse,
if you object not to a tale told in such fashion.”
“Object, indeed!” cried jolly old Father Thames in a pleasant voice.
“How or why should I object? Are not some of our very best English
legends told in verse? Witness that excellent old story of--
‘Old King Cole was a merry old soul,
And so was old King Tudor;
But merrier still was Miss Mary Cole,
When the Earl of Pembroke woo’d her.’
That _is_ a fine legend, if you please! I heard it all told by a
descendant of the Cole family, who stumbled on the story in an old
manuscript, and instantly went out to Cannes, in the South of France,
where he studied it carefully {229}with a view to producing it for the
benefit of the English public, and was only prevented from doing so by
his sisters, who insisted upon it that the wooing done in their family,
even at a remote period, was a matter of private history which should
never be allowed to become public property. Perhaps they had some affair
of the same kind in hand themselves, and did not want to establish an
inconvenient precedent.”
“Very likely,” remarked the Rhine King somewhat sulkily; “but if you go
on like this I shall never get away. Pray give a fellow a chance, and
don’t keep all the talk to yourself--you and your Coles.”
“Hold hard!” cried Father Thames at this. “I am not going to be ‘called
over the coals’ by any foreigner.”
“A truce to your puns!” said he of the Rhine; and as Father Thames said
no more, he at once began the song of:--
SIR RODERICK FOWLE--A LEGEND OF THE OLDEN TIME.
I.
Sir Roderick Fowle has returned from the East,
Where believers are fighting the Paynim;
Though they slaughtered his squire, and they wounded his beast,
No Saracen foeman has slain him.
II.
He has crossed the salt seas, and has come to the land
Where no man of battle afraid is,
But all have, in war, a keen blade and strong hand,
And, in peace, a true heart for the ladies.
III.
To {230}the land of the Gaul is Sir Roderick come
(Concluded his Saracen fighting),
And with joy and delight is struck perfectly dumb,
On the shores of his country alighting--
IV.
The land where he’d lived as an innocent child
(And now he’s a vigorous man, see!),
Where Ida, the lovely, had first on him smiled
And captured his heart and his fancy.
V.
Sweet Ida, the daughter of Montmolon’s lord
(How blest to possess such a daughter!),
Was fairest of fair demoiselles--in a word,
All the marrying bachelors sought her.
VI.
But “attentions” she cared for but little, said she,
And, really, seemed scarcely to heed’em;
And for marrying! oh! ’twas like “felo de se,”
If you _could_ keep your spinsterly freedom.
VII.
So she turned up her aquiline nose at them all,
And refused a round dozen of offers
From lords and from knights, who would constantly fall
At her feet with their hearts and their coffers.
VIII.
Till fate in her way threw Sir Roderick Fowle,
Before he departed this war on,
Then love made the damsel as blind as an owl,
And she promised herself to the Baron.
IX.
The {231}war was declared--there was no time to woo,
When legions and armies were forming,
But, handsome and bold, he knew well what to do,
So he carried the fortress by storming.
X.