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
black owl of the castle. Not long, however, did he remain in the shape
in which his audience {216}were most accustomed to behold him. Throwing
back the head-dress and feathery cloak which begirt him, the figure of
a noble youth stood before the astonished witches. His head was thrown
back in contemptuous scorn, his eyes flashed with the indignation which
virtue always experiences in the presence of vice; he stretched forth
his hand, in which was grasped an ash stick, carefully peeled, so that
it shone fresh and white, and this he waved gently in the air as he
spoke in clear and sounding accents--“Vile hags!” he exclaimed; and as
he uttered the words, Dame Stokes, Mother Wandle, and Groody Tickleback
fell on their knees, whining and moaning in piteous tones--“Vile hags!
once more have ye presumed to tempt your fate by plotting and scheming
the destruction of my mannikins. The warning which ye had previously
received seems to have produced no effect whatever upon ye, and ye will
now have to endure the punishment ye have so well earned!”
As he spoke the old women grovelled on the earth at his feet, and
mumbled forth in low and beseeching accents, “Oh, sir! _please_ let us
off this time; just this once; it is the first time--we’ll never, never,
do it again. _Please_ ‘give us first fault’!”
This expression, always well known among witches, and intended to
express the forgiveness of an offence because of its being on that
occasion committed for the first time, appeared greatly to increase the
anger of the person addressed.
“First fault!” he exclaimed, indignantly, “why, how dare you utter such
a falsehood? You have been complained of a dozen times at least by my
mannikins, and I {217}have only spared you hitherto from a hope that you
might reform, and give up your evil practices. You have not only made
yourselves the pest of the whole place for a long time past, but you
have now for the second time projected an attack upon the castle which I
specially protect. First fault indeed! Two of you were well flogged
the other day, and there is now nothing for it but to send you away
altogether.”
At these words the wretched creatures burst into a howl of anguish, upon
which the young man waved his hand, and a burst of sound arose from
the invisible band, in which the tones of the bagpipe were distinctly
audible, and which completely drowned the cries of the miserable
witches. As soon as the latter and the music had ceased together, the
young man continued to speak in a voice as stern as clear--
“I have hesitated,” he said, “as to the precise punishment which I
should inflict upon each of you, for indeed I hardly know of any which
is sufficiently severe for the crimes which you have committed. I had
thought, indeed, of transforming you into shapes different from your
own, but still possessing human form, and causing you to experience in
them the greatest trouble and misery to which human life is subject. I
have still a great mind to do so. I am very much disposed to make one of
you a leader in the world of fashion, the second a Member of Parliament,
and the third the Head Master of a Public School, which is under the
control of a Governing Body.”
At this point such a dreadful shriek broke simultaneously from the three
witches, that the squirrels were obliged to be called in and ordered to
pelt them with nuts, {218}until they again crouched trembling but silent
on the ground before their judge.
“But,” continued he, without noticing the interruption, “it shall never
be said of me that I was guilty of unnecessary cruelty. There _are_,
I must own, punishments too severe even for crimes such as yours,
and among such these might possibly be included. As I am a great and
powerful, so am I a merciful fairy, and I shall not award you one iota
of suffering more than is your due. Dame Stokes of Datchet, though bad
enough, you are in some respects the best of the three. You have at
least, as a rule, preserved your natural form; and could you but have
persuaded yourself to give up that abominable, not to say ridiculous,
habit of riding on a broomstick, you might have passed through life with
all the ordinary comforts of an English peasant, and ended your days
in respectability and the parish workhouse. Since, however, you have
persisted in using as a horse that which was intended as a harmless
and useful domestic implement, you must pay the penalty of your
indiscretion. You will be changed into a donkey, and as such may remain
in your native place.”
Dame Stokes was just commencing a loud howl at the news of her impending
fate, when a gaily attired young mannikin stepped before the fairy,
and, making a low obeisance, craved leave to speak, which was at once
graciously accorded.
“Noble master,” said he, “if a poor mannikin may put in a word, is this
sentence one which requires any transformation at all? A person who,
being able to ride on anything else, chooses a broomstick, must
already be such {219}a donkey as to render a further change in the same
direction quite unnecessary.”
The great fairy smiled.
“Your words are true, my child,” he replied, “in one sense, but they
only tend to confirm the wisdom of my sentence. A donkey in thought and
action is not always a donkey in shape. Were it otherwise, the world
would be much more largely populated by those worthy and industrious
animals. It is no terrible fate to which I condemn the aged Stokes.
She will forthwith enter upon an existence in which she may render no
inconsiderable service to mortals, who, whilst they despise, will not
scruple to use her; and should she, as is highly probable, at any period
of time, become the property of an itinerant vendor of brooms, she will
have every chance of acquiring a further knowledge of the purposes to
which a broomstick may be properly applied.”
He spoke, and as he concluded, a change at once came over the figure
and appearance of Dame Stokes. Great ears sprung up on each side of her
head, which became at once altered and elongated into that of a donkey;
her body followed the example; a huge tail appeared in the usual
place allotted to such appendages, and in another moment she stood, a
veritable ass, before the assembled throng.
Then the young man turned to the terrified Mother Wandle, and sternly
addressed her in her turn.
“You,” he said, “though not so bad as the third, are worse than the
first of your party. Not content with your own shape (which I will,
however, own was not prepossessing), you have gone about the country
in disguise, and have, moreover, disgraced the family of bats (many of
{220}whom are honest and owl-fearing creatures) by-assuming the shape of
one of them, and in this form perpetrating your wicked deeds. Now one of
two things must be true. Either you were _not_ by rights a bat, and
had therefore no right to the shape of one, or, being a bat, you had no
business to disgrace the family. In either case you are equally guilty,
and your punishment must be proportionately severe. Since you have
evinced, by the most practical means within your power, the undoubted
preference which you cherish for the form of a bat, a bat you shall
remain for ever, and, once for all, quit that human shape which you have
so foolishly despised. Henceforth be your life that of the animal whom
you have loved to imitate in your midnight flittings. Behind shutters,
under eaves, beneath old boards and barn-sides be hidden, wretch, from
the face of the sun, and only come forth when the shades of evening
steal over the face of the earth. Shun the gaze of mankind, whom you
have only lived to annoy, and rank for the rest of your existence
amongst the most lowly and feeble of animals.”
He spoke, and, as in the case of Dame Stokes, the form and figure
of Mother Wandle changed even as he ceased speaking, and a huge and
unsightly bat occupied the place of the old woman, whilst a murmur
of applause and approval was uttered by all who witnessed the
transformation.
Then the owl-fairy turned upon the wretched Goody Tickleback, who stood
in gloomy silence awaiting the doom which she full well knew her crimes
had deserved, but which was not likely to be one whit more palatable on
that account.
“Vile {221}and degraded creature,” exclaimed the fairy, regarding the
object of his address with a stern and angry countenance, “you have
at last been brought to account for your numerous crimes, which exceed
those of your companions in guilt, and have rightly made you detested
by every one to whom you are known. You have gone on for a long time in
your nefarious course, unchecked by any consideration for those
innocent beings against whom your evil practices have been directed, and
undeterred either by the pangs of that remorse, which must at times have
overshadowed even such a hardened soul as yours, or by the fear of that
punishment which, though long deferred, was certain to arrive at last.
In your life you have exhibited the ferocity of a tiger, the cruelty of
an hyæna, and the craft of a serpent. A serpent therefore you shall
be for the future, and as you have, like the rest of your fraternity,
always entertained a great horror of water, you shall be consigned for
ever to that element, and become a sea-serpent for the rest of your
existence.”
A wild yell broke from Goody Tickleback as these words left the lips
of the royal fairy, and she burst forth into a desperate cry for a
mitigation of so terrible a sentence..
“Oh no! oh no!” she shrieked aloud in the madness of her despair; “not
that, not that, for mercy’s sake! anything but that! Make me a stone, or
a stick, or a good birch-rod if you will, great fairy. I promise I will
act up to my name, and tickle with good-will every back that comes under
me, if you will only make me this instead of a horrible snake. Oh do! oh
do! oh don’t----”
And {222}she ended her speech with a yell more awful than before as she
felt the dreadful transformation which had been awarded begin slowly but
surely to steal over her decrepit frame.
The fairy smiled coldly.
“Cruel to the last,” he observed. “The vile hag would be made an
instrument of torture in an inanimate shape, since she may no longer
torment people in her original form. But it may not be. The doom has
been pronounced, and already begins to take effect.”
Even as he spoke, the form of the old woman gradually changed into
that of an enormous sea-serpent, and her yells culminated in a fearful
hissing, from which the legions of valiant birds instinctively recoiled.
A scaly monster of the deep occupied the place--and rather more than the
place--lately filled by old Goody Tickle-back, and the last of the three
witches had now received her allotted punishment. The owl-fairy then
struck the ground sharply three times with his ashen stick, and each of
the three culprits departed different ways. The donkey stretched out its
tail, erected its ears, elevated its head, and gave vent to sundry of
those loud and discordant noises by which creatures of that particular
species are distinguished from other four-footed beasts. Then, looking
around once more, it slowly set off at a trot, which presently became
a galop; and, passing through the ranks of the bird and mannikin army,
which divided for its passage, took the direction of Datchet, and
hastened thither as fast as it could lay legs to the ground.
I will not follow the adventures of the poor beast any longer, though
I may as well tell you, Brother. Rhine, that {223}I know for a fact she
lingered in the same neighbourhood for a very long time. Indeed, not
many weeks since, whilst walking upon Dorney Common, I heard cries as
of an animal in distress, and, looking round, beheld a seller of brooms
vehemently belabouring a half-starved ass with a broomstick. The poor
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.