Hero Tales and Legends of the Rhine Part 32

It need hardly be said that such a man had but few acquaintances; yet a few he had, and among them one who is worthy of especial note?a wealthy citizen who aspired to a position of civic honour in Stra.s.sburg. In appearance he was lean, old, and ugly, with hatchet-shaped face and cunning, malevolent eyes; and when he pressed his hateful attentions on the fair Guta she turned from him in disgust.

One day this creature called on the clockmaker, announced that he had been made a magistrate, and demanded the hand of Guta, hinting that it would go ill with the master should he refuse.

The clockmaker was taken completely by surprise, but he offered his congratulations and called the girl to speak for herself as to her hand.

When Guta heard the proposal she cast indignant glances at the ancient magistrate, whereupon he, without giving her an opportunity to speak, said quickly:

?Do not answer me now, sweet maid; do not decide hastily, I beg of you, for such a course might bring lasting trouble on you and your father. I will return to-morrow for your answer.?

When he was gone Guta flung herself into her father?s arms and declared that she could never marry the aged swain.

?My dear,? said the clockmaker soothingly, ?you shall do as you please.

Heed not his threats, for when I have finished my great work we shall be as rich and powerful as he.?

On the following day the magistrate called again, looking very important and self-satisfied, and never doubting but that the answer would be favourable. But when Guta told him plainly that she would not marry him his rage was unbounded, and he left the house vowing vengeance on father and daughter.

Scarcely was he gone ere a handsome youth entered the room and looked with some surprise at the disturbed appearance of Guta and her father. When he heard the story he was most indignant; later, when the clockmaker had left the young people alone, Guta confessed that the attentions of the magistrate were loathsome to her, and burst into tears.

The young man had long loved the maiden in secret, and he could conceal his pa.s.sion no longer. He begged that she would become his bride, and Guta willingly consented, but suggested that they should not mention the matter to her father till the latter had completed his great clock, which he fondly believed was soon to bring him fame and fortune.

She also proposed that her lover should offer to become her father?s partner?for he, too, was a clockmaker?so that in the event of the master?s great work proving a failure his business should still be secure. The young man at once acted upon the suggestion, and the father gratefully received the proffered a.s.sistance.

At last the day came when the clockmaker joyfully announced that his masterpiece was finished, and he called upon Guta and his young partner to witness his handiwork. They beheld a wonderful clock, of exquisite workmans.h.i.+p, and so constructed that the striking of the hour automatically set in motion several small figures. The young people were not slow to express their admiration and their confidence that fame was a.s.sured.

When the clock was publicly exhibited the scepticism of the citizens was changed to respect; praise and flattery flowed from the lips that had formerly reviled its inventor. Nevertheless the civic authorities, urged thereto by Guta?s discarded lover, refused to countenance any attempt to procure the wonderful clock for the town. But soon its fame spread abroad to other cities. Members of the clockmakers? guild of Basel travelled to see it, and raised their hands in surprise and admiration.

Finally the munic.i.p.al authorities of Basel made arrangements to purchase it.

But at this point the citizens of Stra.s.sburg stepped in and insisted on preserving the clock in their own city, and it was therefore purchased for a round sum and erected in a chapel of the Stra.s.sburg Cathedral.

The corporation of Basel, having set their hearts on the wonderful timepiece, commissioned the clockmaker to make another like it, and offered substantial remuneration. The old man gladly agreed, but his arch-enemy, hearing of the arrangement and scenting a fine opportunity for revenge, contrived to raise an outcry against the proposal. ?Where was the advantage,? asked the magistrates, ?in possessing a wonderful clock if every city in Germany was to have one?? So to preserve the uniqueness of their treasure they haled the old clockmaker before a tribunal and ordered him to cease practising his art. This he indignantly refused to do, and the council, still instigated by his enemy, finally decided that his eyes be put out, so that his skill in clockmaking should come to a decided end. Not a few objections were raised to so cruel a decision, but these were at length overruled. The victim heard the dreadful sentence without a tremor, and when asked if he had any boon to crave ere it were carried out, he answered quietly that he would like to make a few final improvements in his clock, and wished to suffer his punishment in its presence.

Accordingly when the day came the old man was conducted to the place where his masterpiece stood. There, under pretence of making the promised improvements, he damaged the works, after which he submitted himself to his torturers. Hardly had they carried out their cruel task when, to the consternation of the onlookers, the clock began to emit discordant sounds and to whirr loudly. When it had continued thus for a while the gong struck thirteen and the mechanism came to a standstill.

?Behold my handiwork!? cried the blind clockmaker. ?Behold my revenge!?

His a.s.sistant approached and led him gently away. Henceforward he lived happily with Guta and her husband, whose affectionate care compensated in part for the loss of his eyesight and his enforced inability to practise his beloved art. When the story became known the base magistrate was deprived of his wealth and his office and forced to quit the town.

And as for the clock, it remained in its disordered state till 1843, when it was once more restored to its original condition.

The Trumpeter of Sackingen

A beautiful and romantic tale which has inspired more than one work of art is the legend of the Trumpeter of Sackingen; it shares with ?The Lorelei? and a few other legends the distinction of being the most widely popular in Rhenish folklore.

One evening in early spring, so the legend runs, a gallant young soldier emerged from the Black Forest opposite Sackingen and reined in his steed on the banks of the Rhine. Night was at hand, and the snow lay thickly on the ground. For a few moments the wayfarer pondered whither he should turn for food and shelter, for his steed and the trumpet he carried under his cavalry cloak were all he possessed in the world; then with a reckless gesture he seized the trumpet and sounded some lively notes which echoed merrily over the snow.

The parish priest, toiling painfully up the hill, heard the martial sound, and soon encountered the soldier, who saluted him gravely. The priest paused to return the greeting, and entering into conversation with the horseman, he learned that he was a soldier of fortune, whereupon he invited him with simple cordiality to become his guest. The proffer of hospitality was gratefully accepted, and the kindly old man led the stranger to his home.

The old priest, though not a little curious with regard to his guest?s previous history, forbore out of courtesy to question him, but the warmth and cheer soon loosened the trumpeter?s tongue, and he volunteered to tell the old man his story. Shorn of detail, it ran as follows: The soldier?s youth had been pa.s.sed at the University of Heidelberg, where he had lived a gay and careless life, paying so little attention to his studies that at the end of his course his only a.s.set was a knowledge of music, picked up from a drunken trumpeter in exchange for the wherewithal to satisfy his thirst. The legal profession, which his guardian had designed for him, was clearly impossible with such meagre acquirements, so he had joined a cavalry regiment and fought in the Thirty Years? War. At the end of the war his horse and his trumpet were his sole possessions, and from that time he had wandered through the world, gaining a scanty livelihood with the aid of his music. Such was his history.

That night Werner?for so the young man was called?slept soundly in the house of the old priest, and next morning he rose early to attend the festival of St. Fridolin, in celebration of which a procession was organized every year at Sackingen. There, at the head of a band of girls, he beheld a maid who outshone them all in beauty and grace, and to her he immediately lost his heart. From that moment the gaieties of the festival had no attraction for him, and he wandered disconsolately among the merry-makers, thinking only of the lovely face that had caught his fancy.

Toward nightfall he embarked in a little boat and floated idly down the Rhine. Suddenly, to his amazement, there arose from the water the handsome, youthful figure of the Rhine-G.o.d, who had recognized in his pale cheek and haggard eye the infallible signs of a lover. Indicating a castle at the edge of the river, the apparition informed Werner that his lady-love dwelt therein, and he bade him take heart and seek some mode of communicating with her. At this Werner plucked up courage to row ash.o.r.e to his lady?s abode. There in the garden, beneath a lighted window, he played an exquisite serenade, every perfect note of which told of his love and grief and the wild hopes he would never dare to express in words.

Now, the lord of the castle was at that very moment telling to his beautiful daughter the story of his own long-past wooing; he paused in his tale and bade his daughter listen to the melting strains. When the notes had died away an attendant was dispatched to learn who the musician might be, but ere he reached the garden Werner had re-embarked and was lost to sight on the river. However, on the following day the n.o.bleman pursued his inquiries in the village and the musician was discovered in an inn.

In obedience to a summons the trumpeter hastened to the castle, where the old lord greeted him very kindly, giving him a place with his musicians, and appointing him music-master to the fair Margaretha.

Henceforward his path lay in pleasant places, for the young people were thrown a great deal into each other?s society, and in time it became evident that the lady returned the young soldier?s tender pa.s.sion. Yet Werner did not dare to declare his love, for Margaretha was a maiden of high degree, and he but a poor musician who not so very long ago had been a homeless wanderer.

One day Werner heard strange, discordant sounds issuing from the music-room, and thinking that some mischievous page was taking liberties with his trumpet, he quietly made his way to the spot, to find that the inharmonious sounds resulted from the vain attempt of his fair pupil to play the instrument. When the girl observed that her endeavours had been overheard, she joined her merriment with that of her teacher, and Werner then and there taught her a bugle-call.

A few weeks later the n.o.bleman, hearing of a rising of the peasants, hastened to Sackingen to restore order, leaving his daughter and Werner to guard the castle. That night an attempt was made upon the stronghold.

Werner courageously kept the foe at bay, but was wounded in the melee, and Margaretha, seeing her lover fall and being unable to reach him, took the trumpet and sounded the bugle-call he had taught her, hoping that her father would hear it and hasten his return. And, sure enough, that was what happened; the n.o.bleman returned with all speed to the a.s.sistance of the little garrison, and the remnant of the a.s.sailants were routed. Werner, who was happily not wounded seriously, now received every attention.

Her lover?s peril had taught Margaretha beyond a doubt where her affections lay, and she showed such unfeigned delight at his recovery that he forgot the difference in their rank and told her of his love.

There on the terrace they plighted their troth, and vowed to remain true to each other, whatever might befall. Werner now ventured to seek the n.o.bleman that he might acquaint him of the circ.u.mstances and beg for his daughter?s hand, but ere he could prefer his request the old man proceeded to tell him that he had but just received a letter from an old friend desiring that his son should marry Margaretha. As the young man was of n.o.ble birth, he added, and eligible in every respect he was disposed to agree to the arrangement, and he desired Werner to write to him and invite him to Sackingen. The unfortunate soldier now made his belated announcement; but the old man shook his head and declared that only a n.o.bleman should wed with his daughter. It is true he was greatly attached to the young musician, but his ideas were those of his times, and so Werner was obliged to quit his service and fare once more into the wide world.

Years pa.s.sed by, and Margaretha, who had resolutely discouraged the advances of her high-born lover, grew so pale and woebegone that her father in despair sent her to Italy. When in Rome she went one Sunday with her maid to St. Peter?s Church, and there, leading the Papal choir, was her lover! Margaretha promptly fainted, and Werner, who had recognized his beloved, was only able with difficulty to perform the remainder of his choral duties. Meanwhile the Pope had observed that the young man was deeply affected, and believing this to be caused by the lady?s indisposition, he desired that the couple should be brought before him at the conclusion of the service. With kindly questioning he elicited the whole story, and was so touched by the romance that he immediately created Werner Marquis of Santo Campo and arranged that the marriage of the young people should take place at once. Immediately after the ceremony, having received the Papal blessing, they returned to Sackingen, where the father of the bride greeted them cordially, for Margaretha was restored to health and happiness, and his own condition was satisfied, for had she not brought home a n.o.ble husband?

The Charcoal-Burner

In the woods of Zahringen there dwelt a young charcoal-burner. His parents before him had followed the same humble calling, and one might have supposed that the youth would be well satisfied to emulate their simple industry and contentment. But in truth it was not so.

On one occasion, while on an errand to the town, he had witnessed a tournament, and the brilliant spectacle of beauty and chivalry had lingered in his memory and fired his boyish enthusiasm, so that thenceforth he was possessed by ?divine discontent.? The romance of the ancient forests wherein he dwelt fostered his strange longings, and in fancy he already saw himself a knight, fighting in the wars, jousting in the lists, receiving, perchance, the prize of the tourney from the fair hands of its queen. And, indeed, in all save birth and station he was well fitted for the profession of arms?handsome, brave, spirited, and withal gentle and courteous.

Time pa.s.sed, and his ambitions seemed as far as ever from realization.

Yet the ambitious mind lacks not fuel for its fires; the youth?s imagination peopled the woody solitudes with braver company than courts could boast?vivid, unreal dream-people, whose shadowy presence increased his longing for the actuality. The very winds whispered mysteriously of coming triumphs, and as he listened his unrest grew greater. At length there came a time when dreams no longer satisfied him, and he pondered how he might attain his desires.

?I will go out into the world,? he said to himself, ?and take service under some great knight. Then, peradventure??

At this point his musings were interrupted by the approach of an old man, clad in the garb of a hermit.

?My son,? he said, ?what aileth thee? Nay??as the youth looked up in astonishment??nay, answer me not, for I know what thou wouldst have. Yet must thou not forsake thy lowly occupation; that which thou dost seek will only come to thee whilst thou art engaged thereon. Follow me, and I will show thee the spot where thy destiny will meet thee.?

The young man, not yet recovered from his surprise, followed his aged guide to a distant part of the forest. Then the hermit bade him farewell and left him to ponder on the cryptic saying: ?Here thy destiny will meet thee.?

?Time will show the old man?s meaning, I suppose,? he said to himself; ?in any case, I may as well burn charcoal here as elsewhere.?

He set to work, hewed down some great trees, and built a kiln, which, before lighting, he covered with stony earth. What was his amazement when, on removing the cover of the kiln in due course, he discovered within some pieces of pure gold! A moment?s reflection convinced him that the precious metal must have been melted out of the stones, so he again built a kiln, and experienced the same gratifying result.

Delighted with his good fortune, he concealed his treasure in an appropriate hiding-place and proceeded to repeat the process till he had obtained and hidden a large fortune, of whose existence none but himself was aware.

One night, as he lay awake listening to the wind in the trees?for his great wealth had this drawback, that it robbed him of his sleep?he fancied he heard a knock at the door. At first he thought he must have been mistaken, but as he hesitated whether to rise or not the knock was repeated. Boldly he undid the door?a feat requiring no small courage in that remote part of the forest, where robbers and freebooters abounded?and there, without, stood a poor wayfarer, who humbly begged admittance. He was being pursued, he declared; would the charcoal-burner shelter him for a few days? Touched by the suppliant?s plight, and moved by feelings worthy of his chivalrous ideals, the youth readily extended the hospitality of his poor home, and for some time the stranger sojourned there in peace. He did not offer to reveal his ident.i.ty, nor was he questioned on that point. But one morning he declared his intention of taking his departure.

?My friend,? he said warmly, ?I know not how I may thank you for your brave loyalty. The time has come when you must know whom you have served so faithfully. Behold your unfortunate Emperor, overcome in battle, deprived of friends and followers and fortune!?

At these astounding words the young charcoal-burner sank on his knees before the Emperor.

?Sire,? he said, ?you have yet one humble subject who will never forsake you while life remains to him.?

?I know,? replied the Emperor gently, raising him to his feet, ?and therefore I ask of you one last service. It is that you may lead me by some secret path to the place where the remnant of my followers await me. Alas, that I, once so powerful, should be unable to offer you any token of a sovereign?s grat.i.tude!?

?Sire,? ventured the youth, ?methinks I may be privileged to render yet one more service to your Majesty.? Straightway he told the story of his hidden treasure and with simple dignity placed it at the disposal of his sovereign, asking for nothing in return but the right to spend his strength in the Emperor?s service?a right which was readily accorded him.