Hero Tales and Legends of the Rhine

by Lewis Spence

Although the most German of rivers, the Rhine does not run its entire course through German territory, but takes its rise in Switzerland and finds the sea in Holland. For no less than 233 miles it flows through Swiss country, rising in the mountains of the canton of Grisons, and irrigates every canton of the Alpine republic save that of Geneva. Indeed, it waters over 14,000 square miles of Swiss territory in the flow of its two main branches, the Nearer Rhine and the Farther Rhine, which unite at Reichenau, near Coire. The Nearer Rhine issues at the height of over 7000 feet from the glaciers of the Rheinwaldhorn group, and flows for some thirty-five miles, first in a north-easterly direction through the Rheinwald Valley, then northward through the Schams Valley, by way of the Via Mala gorge, and Tomleschg Valley, and so to Reichenau, where it is joined by its sister stream, the Farther Rhine. The latter, rising in the little Alpine lake of Toma near the Pass of St. Gotthard, flows in a north-easterly direction to Reichenau. The Nearer Rhine is generally considered to be the more important branch, though the Farther Rhine is the longer by some seven miles. From Reichenau the Rhine flows north-eastward to Coire, and thence northward to the Lake of Constance, receiving on its way two tributaries, the Landquart and the Ill, both on the right bank. Indeed, from source to sea the Rhine receives a vast number of tributaries, amounting, with their branches, to over 12,000. Leaving the Lake of Constance at the town of that name, the river flows westward to Basel, having as the principal towns on its banks Constance, Schaffhausen, Waldshut, Laufenburg, Säckingen, Rheinfelden, and Basel.

Not far from the town of Schaffhausen the river precipitates itself from a height of 60 feet, in three leaps, forming the famous Falls of the Rhine. At Coblentz a strange thing happens, for at this place the river receives the waters of the Aar, swollen by the Reuss and the Limmat, and of greater volume than the stream in which it loses itself.

It is at Basel that the Rhine, taking a northward trend, enters Germany. By this time it has made a descent of nearly 7000 feet, and has traversed about a third of its course. Between Basel and Mainz it flows between the mountains of the Black Forest and the Vosges, the distance between which forms a shallow valley of some width. Here and there it is islanded, and its expanse averages about 1200 feet. The Taunus Mountains divert it at Mainz, where it widens, and it flows westward for about twenty miles, but at Bingen it once more takes its course northward, and enters a narrow valley where the enclosing hills look down sheer upon the water.

It is in this valley, probably one of the most romantic in the world, that we find the legendary lore of the river packed in such richness that every foot of its banks has its place in tradition. But that is not to say that this portion of the Rhine is wanting in natural beauty. Here are situated some of its sunniest vineyards, its most wildly romantic heights, and its most picturesque ruins. This part of its course may be said to end at the Siebengebirge, or ‘Seven Mountains,’ where the river again widens and the banks become more bare and uninteresting. Passing Bonn and Cologne, the bareness of the landscape is remarkable after the variety of that from which we have just emerged, and henceforward the river takes on what may be called a ‘Dutch’ appearance. After entering Holland it divides into two branches, the Waal flowing to the west and uniting with the Maas. The smaller branch to the right is still called the Rhine, and throws off another branch, the Yssel, which flows into the Zuider Zee. Once more the river bifurcates into insignificant streams, one of which is called the Kromme Rijn, and beyond Utrecht, and under the name of the Oude Rijn, or Old Rhine, it becomes so stagnant that it requires the aid of a canal to drain it into the sea. Anciently the Rhine at this part of its course was an abounding stream, but by the ninth century the sands at Katwijk had silted it up, and it was only in the beginning of last century that its way to the sea was made clear.

The Sunken City

More than six centuries ago Stavoren was one of the chief commercial towns of Holland. Its merchants traded with all parts of the world, and brought back their ships laden with rich cargoes, and the city became ever more prosperous.

The majority of the people of Stavoren were well-to-do, and as their wealth increased they became luxurious and dissipated, each striving to outdo the others in the magnificence of their homes and the extravagance of their hospitality.

Many of their houses, we are told, were like the palaces of princes, built of white marble, furnished with the greatest sumptuousness, and decorated with the costliest hangings and the rarest statuary.

But, says the legend, of all the Stavoren folk there was none wealthier than young Richberta. This maiden owned a fleet of the finest merchant-vessels of the city, and loved to ornament her palace with the rich merchandise which these brought from foreign ports. With all her jewels and gold and silver treasures, however, Richberta was not happy. She gave gorgeous banquets to the other merchant-princes of the place, each more magnificent than the last, not because she received any pleasure from thus dispensing hospitality, but because she desired to create envy and astonishment in the breasts of her guests.

On one occasion while such a feast was in progress Richberta was informed that a stranger was waiting without who was desirous of speaking with her. When she was told that the man had come all the way from a distant land simply to admire her wonderful treasures, of which he had heard so much, the maiden was highly flattered and gave orders that he should be admitted without delay. An aged and decrepit man, clad in a picturesque Eastern costume, was led into the room, and Richberta bade him be seated at her side. He expected to receive from the young lady the symbol of welcome—bread and salt. But no such common fare was to be found on her table—all was rich and luxurious food.