Once in the Hardt mountains there dwelt a giant whose fortress commanded a wide view of the surrounding country. Near by, a lovely lady, as daring in the hunt as she was skilful at spinning, inhabited an abandoned castle. One day the twain chanced to meet, and the giant thereupon resolved to possess the beauteous damsel.
So he sent his servant to win her with jewels, but the deceitful fellow intended to hide the treasures in a forest.
There he met a young man musing in a disconsolate att.i.tude, who confided that poverty alone kept him from avowing how pa.s.sionately he adored his sweetheart. The shrewd messenger realized that this rustic?s charmer was the same fair lady who had beguiled his master?s soul. He solicited the youth?s aid in burying the treasures promising him a share in the spoil sufficient to enable him to wed his beloved.
In a solitary spot they dug a deep hole, when suddenly the robber a.s.sailed his companion, who thrust him aside with great violence. In his rage the youth was about to stab the wretch, when he craved pardon, promising to reveal a secret of more value than the jewels he had intended to conceal.
The youth stayed his hand, and the servant related how his master, for love of the pretty mistress of the castle, had sent him to gain her favour.
Conscious of his worth, the ardent youth scornfully declared that he feared no rival, then, seizing half of the treasure, he left the wretch to his own devices.
Meanwhile the giant impatiently awaited his servant?s return. At length, tired of waiting, he decided to visit the lady and declare in person his pa.s.sion for her. Upon his arrival at the castle the maid announced him, and it was with a secret feeling of dread that the lady went to meet her unwelcome visitor. More than ever captivated by her charms, the giant asked the fair maid to become his wife. On being refused, he threatened to kill her and demolish the castle.
The poor lady was terrified and she tearfully implored the giant?s mercy, promising to bestow all her treasure upon him. Her maids, too, begged him to spare their mistress?s life, but he only laughed as they knelt before him. Ultimately the hapless maiden consented to marry her inexorable wooer, but she attached a novel condition: she would ride a race with her relentless suitor, and should he overtake her she would accompany him to his castle. But the resolute maiden had secretly vowed to die rather than submit to such degradation. Choosing her fleetest steed, she vaulted nimbly into the saddle and galloped away. Her persecutor pursued close behind, straining every nerve to come up with her. Shuddering at the very thought of becoming his bride, she chose death as the only alternative. So she spurred her horse onward to the edge of a deep chasm.
The n.o.ble animal neighed loudly as though conscious of impending danger.
The pursuer laughed grimly as he thought to seize his prize, but his laughter was turned to rage when the horse with its fair burden bounded lightly across the chasm, landing safely on the other side.
The enraged tyrant now beheld his intended victim kneeling in prayer and her steed calmly grazing among the green verdure by her side. He strode furiously hither and thither, searching for a crossing, and suddenly a shout of joy told the affrighted maid that he had discovered some pa.s.sage.
His satisfaction, however, was short-lived, for just then a strange knight with drawn sword rushed upon the giant. The maid watched the contest with breathless fear, and many times she thought that the tyrant would slay her protector. At last in one such moment the giant stooped to clutch a huge boulder with which he meant to overwhelm his adversary, when, overreaching himself, he slipped and fell headlong down the steep rocks.
Then the maid hastened to thank her rescuer, and great was her surprise to discover in the gallant knight the youth whose former poverty had kept him from wooing her. They returned to the castle together, and it was not long ere they celebrated their wedding.
Both lived long and happily, and their union was blessed with many children. The rock is still known as ?The Maiden?s Leap.?
The Wonderful Road
Near Homburg, on the pinnacle of a lofty mountain, are the ruins of Falkenstein Castle, access to which is gained by a steep, winding path.
Within the castle walls there once dwelt a maiden of surpa.s.sing beauty.
Many suitors climbed the stern acclivity to woo this charming damsel, but her stern father repelled one and all. Only Kuno of Sayn was firm enough to persevere in his suit against the rebuffs of the stubborn Lord of Falkenstein, and in the end he was rewarded with the smiles and kind looks of the fair maid.
One evening, as they watched the sun set, Kuno pointed out to the maiden where his own castle was situated. The beauty of the landscape beneath them made its appeal to their souls, their hands touched and clasped, and their hearts throbbed with the pa.s.sion felt by both. A few days later Kuno climbed the steep path, resolved to declare his love to the damsel?s father. Fatigued with the ascent, he rested for a brief s.p.a.ce at the entrance to the castle ere mounting to the tower.
The Lord of Falkenstein and his daughter had beheld Kuno?s journey up the rugged path from the windows of the tower, and the father demanded for what purpose he had come thither. With a pa.s.sionate glance at the blushing maid, the knight of Sayn declared that he had come to ask the n.o.ble lord for his daughter?s hand in marriage. After meditating on the knight?s proposal for some time, the Lord of Falkenstein pretended to be willing to give his consent?but he attached a condition. ?I desire a carriage-drive to be made from the lowland beneath to the gate of my castle, and if you can accomplish this my daughter?s hand is yours?but the feat must be achieved by to-morrow morning!?
The knight protested that such a task was utterly impossible for anyone to perform, even in a month, but all to no purpose. He then resolved to seek some way whereby he could outwit the stubborn lord, for he would not willingly resign his lady-love. He left the tower, vowing to do his utmost to perform the seemingly impossible task, and as he descended the rocky declivity his beloved waved her handkerchief to encourage him.
Now Kuno of Sayn possessed both copper and silver mines, and arriving at his castle he summoned his overseer. The knight explained the nature of the task which he desired to be undertaken, but the overseer declared that all his miners, working day and night, could not make the roadway within many months.
Dismayed, Kuno left his castle and wandered into a dense forest, driven thither by his perturbed condition. Night cast dusky shadows over the foliage, and the perplexed lover cursed the obstinate Lord of Falkenstein as he forced his way through the undergrowth.
Suddenly an old man of strange and wild appearance stood in his path.
Kuno at once knew him for an earth-spirit, one of those mysterious guardians of the treasures of the soil who are jealous of the incursion of mankind into their domain.
?Kuno of Sayn,? he said, ?do you desire to outwit the Lord of Falkenstein and win his beauteous daughter??
Although startled and taken aback by the strange apparition, Kuno hearkened eagerly to its words as showing an avenue of escape from the dilemma in which he found himself.
?a.s.suredly I do,? he replied, ?but how do you propose I should accomplish it??
?Cease to persecute me and my brethren, Kuno, and we shall help you to realize your wishes,? was the reply.
?Persecute you!? exclaimed Kuno. ?In what manner do I trouble you at all, strange being??
?You have opened up a silver mine in our domain,? said the earth-spirit, ?and as you work it both morning and afternoon we have but little opportunity for repose. How, I ask you, can we slumber when your men keep knocking on the part.i.tions of our house with their picks??
?What, then, would you have, my worthy friend?? asked Kuno, scarcely able to suppress a smile at the wistful way in which the gnome made his complaint. ?Tell me, I pray you, how I can oblige you.?
?By instructing your miners to work in the mine during the hours of morning only,? replied the gnome. ?By so doing I and my brothers will obtain the rest we so much require.?
?It shall be as you say,? said Kuno; ?you have my word for it, good friend.?
?In that case,? said the earth-spirit, ?we shall a.s.sist you in turn. Go to the castle of Falkenstein after dawn to-morrow morning, and you shall witness the result of our friendship and grat.i.tude.?
Next morning the sun had scarcely risen when Kuno saddled his steed and hied him to the heights of Falkenstein. The gnome had kept his word.
There, above and in front of him, he beheld a wide and lofty roadway leading to the castle-gate from the thoroughfare below. With joy in his heart he set spurs to his horse and dashed up the steep but smooth acclivity. At the gate he encountered the old Lord of Falkenstein and his daughter, who had been apprised of the miracle that had happened and had come out to view the new roadway. The knight of Sayn related his adventure with the earth-spirit, upon which the Lord of Falkenstein told him how a terrible thunderstorm mingled with unearthly noises had raged throughout the night. Terrified, he and his daughter had spent the hours of darkness in prayer, until with the approach of dawn some of the servitors had plucked up courage and ventured forth, when the wonderful avenue up the side of the mountain met their startled gaze.
Kuno and his lady-love were duly united. Indeed, so terrified was the old lord by the supernatural manifestations of the dreadful night he had just pa.s.sed through that he was incapable of further resistance to the wishes of the young people. The wonderful road is still to be seen, and is marvelled at by all who pa.s.s that way.
Osric the Lion
Other tales besides the foregoing have their scene laid in the castle of Falkenstein, notable among them being the legend of Osric the Lion, embodied in the following weird ballad from the pen of Monk Lewis:
Swift roll the Rhine?s billows, and water the plains, Where Falkenstein Castle?s majestic remains Their moss-covered turrets still rear: Oft loves the gaunt wolf ?midst the ruins to prowl, What time from the battlements pours the lone owl Her plaints in the pa.s.senger?s ear.
No longer resound through the vaults of yon hall The song of the minstrel, and mirth of the ball; Those pleasures for ever are fled: There now dwells the bat with her light-shunning brood, There ravens and vultures now clamour for food, And all is dark, silent, and dread!
Ha! dost thou not see, by the moon?s trembling light Directing his steps, where advances a knight, His eye big with vengeance and fate?
?Tis Osric the Lion his nephew who leads, And swift up the crackling old staircase proceeds, Gains the hall, and quick closes the gate.
Now round him young Carloman, casting his eyes, Surveys the sad scene with dismay and surprise, And fear steals the rose from his cheeks.
His spirits forsake him, his courage is flown; The hand of Sir Osric he clasps in his own, And while his voice falters he speaks.
?Dear uncle,? he murmurs, ?why linger we here?
?Tis late, and these chambers are damp and are drear, Keen blows through the ruins the blast!
Oh! let us away and our journey pursue: Fair Blumenberg?s Castle will rise on our view, Soon as Falkenstein forest be pa.s.sed.
?Why roll thus your eyeb.a.l.l.s? why glare they so wild?
Oh! chide not my weakness, nor frown, that a child Should view these apartments with dread; For know that full oft have I heard from my nurse, There still on this castle has rested a curse, Since innocent blood here was shed.
?She said, too, bad spirits, and ghosts all in white, Here used to resort at the dead time of night, Nor vanish till breaking of day; And still at their coming is heard the deep tone Of a bell loud and awful?hark! hark! ?twas a groan!
Good uncle, oh! let us away!?
?Peace, serpent!? thus Osric the Lion replies, While rage and malignity gleam in his eyes; ?Thy journey and life here must close: Thy castle?s proud turrets no more shalt thou see; No more betwixt Blumenberg?s lordship and me Shalt thou stand, and my greatness oppose.
?My brother lies breathless on Palestine?s plains, And thou once removed, to his n.o.ble domains My right can no rival deny: Then, stripling, prepare on my dagger to bleed; No succour is near, and thy fate is decreed, Commend thee to Jesus and die!?