[Illustration: Der Brautzug--Nach dem Gemälde von L. Herterich--(zur
Sage von Burg Rheinstein)]
In Castle Rheinstein once lived a knight called Diethelm, who devoted
himself without restraint to all the excesses of the robber barons.
From one of his pillaging expeditions he brought back a charming
maiden called Jutta. As the delicate ivy twines itself round the rough
oak and clothes its knotty stem with shimmering velvet; so in time the
gentle conduct of this maiden changed the coarse baron to a noble
knight who eschewed pillaging and carousing, and ultimately made the
fair Jutta the honoured wife of her captor.
The first fruit of their love cost the tender mother her life. Gerda
however, who much resembled her mother, grew to such a noble beauty
that soon wooers from far and near came to sue for the hand of the
beautiful daughter of the aged Diethelm. But the aged knight made a
most careful selection, and many gay wooers had to depart in sorrow.
One young man was however regarded favourably by the maid, and not
unkindly looked upon by the old man. He was the oldest son of the
owner of the Sternburg. This young man had contrived to win the
maiden's heart, and one day, while Gerda presided as queen of love
and beauty at a tournament held in the courtyard of Castle Rheinstein,
Helmbrecht made an avowal of his love.
Some days thereafter the young lord according to courtly fashion
appointed his uncle Gunzelin of Reichenstein to woo his chosen bride
for him. But Gunzelin though an old man was full of knavery and
falsehood, and so instead of wooing for his nephew he ingratiated
himself with Gerda's father. Moreover, as the old knight was descended
from an ancient family and possessed of much wealth Diethelm was
easily induced to promise him the hand of the fair Gerda. To the
astonishment of this worthy pair Gerda would not listen to the suit of
her rich wooer. Her heart belonged to the nephew, not to the uncle.
Now Count Diethelm was aroused, and with the blind fury of his earlier
years swore to his rich companion that Gerda belonged to him, and
should never wed the young cock-sparrow of the Sternburg.
In her quiet chamber the unhappy maid wept out her heart's grief, but
burning tears did not thaw the ice-cold heart of the father. In vain
the young lover tried to gain the old knight's favour, but Diethelm
merely referred to his knightly word solemnly pledged to the lord of
Reichenstein.
Soon the day approached on which Gunzelin, with the smiling
self-satisfaction of an old roué, and decked out to give himself all
the appearance of young manhood, was to lead the fairest maiden in the
Rhineland to his stately castle. Gerda who possessed the mild
disposition of her deceased mother had submitted to the inevitable. On
a bright summer morning the bridal procession started from the
courtyard of Castle Rheinstein, and moved towards the Clement's Chapel
situated in the neighbourhood. Horns blew and trumpets sounded. On a
milkwhite palfrey, sat the fair young bride, deadly pale. She was
thinking of her absent lover who in this hour must be enduring the
greatest anguish on her account. Then all at once a swarm of buzzing
gadflies came out of the bush and fastened fiercely on the palfrey
which bore the fair Gerda. The animal reared and broke from the bridal
procession. Boldly the bridegroom on his grandly caparisoned steed
dashed forward to check the frightened animal, but his war-horse
missing its footing on the narrow bridle path fell over a precipice
carrying its master with it. The dying knight was carried by the
wedding-guests back to Castle Rheinstein. The aged Diethelm was also
unfortunate in his attempt to stop the runaway steed. The maddened
animal had struck him on the shinbone, and wounded him. The servants
were thus obliged to carry the moaning greybeard back to his castle as
speedily and carefully as possible. The surgeon had a sad time of it
during the next week as he attended to the enraged old knight's wounds
and bruises.
When the runaway horse had disappeared round a bend of the path a man
threw himself upon it, and bringing the trembling animal to a
standstill clasped the unconscious bride in his arms. Helmbrecht,
concealed in the brushwood, had been watching the bridal procession,
and now came to the rescue of his true love. When the old lord heard
of this he came to his senses and gave the lovers his blessing. Some
weeks later a bridal procession advanced from the Clement's Chapel up
to the festively decorated Castle Rheinstein. Trumpets were blown and
horns resounded. Much more joyfully than on the previous occasion the
musicians marched in front. Upon a milkwhite palfrey, as formerly, sat
a noble maiden in bridal state, clothed in undulating robes bordered
with fur. Her head was bent in maiden modesty as she listened to the
endearments which the youthful knight whispered in her ear. Behind
rode the father of the bride sunk in thought, and along with him was
his pious sister Notburge, the canoness of Nonnenwerth.
A life of unalloyed married bliss followed this union, and God granted
to the noble pair a long and happy life. They rest together in front
of the altar in the Clement's Chapel which is situated across the
Rhine from Assmannshausen. Castle Rheinstein stands in renewed
youthful beauty on the edge of its precipitous cliff overlooking our
noble stream.