When the wanderer has left the "city of the Muses," Bonn, he perceives
to the left the mighty summits of the Seven Mountains. The rocky point
of one of these hills is still crowned by the tower and walls of an
old knight's Castle. A most touching legend is related of the mountain
with the terrible name.
In the first centuries after the birth of the world's Redeemer, the
Germans on the left side of the Rhine accepted willingly the doctrines
of the Cross; Maternus, a disciple of the great Apostle, had brought
them over from Gaul. At first the pious messenger of Christ worked
among the heathen tribes in vain. They persisted in their paganism,
and even prevented the priests from coming into their country.
At that time there was a terrible dragon living in the hollow of the
rock which even now is called the Dragon's hole. He was of a hideous
form, and every day he used to leave his den and rage through the
forests and valleys, threatening men and animals. Human strength was
powerless against this monster; the people thought that an angry deity
had his abode in this terrible beast, so they bestowed godlike honours
on him, sacrificing criminals and prisoners to him.
A tribe of heathens lived at the foot of the mountain. These men,
desirous of war, often made raids on the neighbouring countries,
carrying fire and sword among their Christian brothers. They once
crossed the water, plundering the land and making prisoners of the
people. Among the latter there was one most lovely maiden, whose
beauty and grace inflamed two of the leaders so much, that each of
them desired to have her for himself. One was called Horsrik the
Elder, a famous chieftain, known to have the strength of a bear and
the wildness of a tiger; the other, Rinbold, of a less rough nature,
but of equal bravery.
The beautiful maiden turned aside shuddering when she saw the two
chiefs' glaring eyes, contending for possession of her. All round were
their men intoxicated with victory. The struggle for the Christian
maid affected the two leaders more than the division of the booty.
Soon the angry words of the two opponents found an echo in the hearts
of the men standing round.
Horsrik, the much-feared fighter, claimed her, and was received with
cheers. Rinbold, the proud young chieftain, claimed her also,--great
applause greeted him. The former glared sternly, grasping his club in
a threatening manner. The high-priest, an old man with silver-white
hair and stern features, stepped in between the two combatants, and in
a voice surging with anger he said:
"Cursed be every dissension for the possession of this stranger! A
Christian must not disunite the noblest of our tribe. A daughter of
those we hate, she shall fall to nobody's share. She, the author of
so much strife, shall be sacrificed to the Dragon, and shall be
dedicated to Woden's honour at the next rising of the sun."
The men murmured applause, Horsrik more than the rest. The maiden held
her head upright. Rinbold, the proud young chieftain, looked
sorrowfully at her angel-like face.