Of course the Lurlieberg, as the rock is called, has its legend, as has every well regulated rock on the river. A rock without an appropriate legend would be no rock at all. The knights and ladies, and witches and devils, of the olden time, existed, apparently, solely in the interest of the booksellers of Mayence, and the other cities of to-day. The legend of the Lurlie runs something like this:
The rock known as the Lurlie was the resort of a water-nymph, who was about as capricious as other nymphs. She was a young lady who could live under water as well as above it; in fact, her permanent residence was under the Rhine. Her regular recreation was to come out of the wet, and sit on a rock, and comb her long, yellow hair (she was a natural blonde, as all entrancers are), and sing, accompanying herself on a golden lute.
Of course all the young men in the vicinity fell desperately in love with her, and they went for her. But while the nymph would sing and pose for them so as to set them crazy, their boats were all dashed to pieces upon the rock, whereat the nymph would laugh, and comb her hair, and sing, and entice other young fellows to their doom. She was kindly only to fishermen, and the one item to her credit is that she never did them harm, but always good. That was probably because they were old men, and unimpressible.
The son of a count in the vicinity, fell in love with her, and despite the warnings he had received, determined to conquer her. He ordered his boat, and commanded the men to steer for the fatal rock. There was no nymph on it at first, but after a minute or two she appeared more radiantly beautiful than ever. The foolish young man attempted to climb the rock, but he fell into the seething waves and was never more seen.
Then his father swore vengeance and sent valiant men to seize her and burn her as a witch. The result might have been anticipated. The nymph sang a song to the waves and plunged into them, laughing, the same waves upsetting the boat which held the soldiers, and she descended to her cave under the water, while her pursuers thought themselves lucky to escape with their lives.
At another time a maiden loved a young man who was to go to Palestine to fight the Saracens. During his absence she was so persecuted by the other young men that she retired to a convent near the Lurlie, and waited for her lover. At last she saw a boat approaching filled with men, and among them, gorgeously attired, was her young man. Unfortunately to get to where she was the boat had to come very near the rock, the water-demons raised the whirlpool, the beautiful nymph presiding with a mocking smile, and they seized the doomed craft and hurled it against the rock, and down it went, and all on board were lost. The hapless maid plunged into the seething waves after her lover, and as she went under the flood, the nymph of the Lurlie appeared on the surface, beautiful as ever, but with the laugh that was frightfully harsh and discordant. She could not bear to see earthly young maids happy.
That same night she was on the rock as usual, combing her hair, and other young men got into her toils, till there was a scarcity of eligible suitors in the neighborhood.
She was a dangerous person, this young nymph of Lurlie.
Passing Coblenz, a beautiful city, picturesquely situated at the confluence of the Mosel and the Rhine, we soon came to the Siebengebergen, “Seven Mountains,” the rugged banks gradually tone down, and between Bonn and Cologne the scenery is not so interesting, because of the grandeur of that which has preceded it. Still it is not altogether devoid of interest, though it is of a quieter and less imposing kind. After a five hours’ ride through such magnificence, one is quite willing to take it in a little milder form, and we were thoroughly content when we landed in Cologne, the great cathedral city.
THE SMART YOUNG MAN.