There is a fine view from the cliffs behind the cloister, and the walk hence to Beilstein is very agreeable, as the banks are all richly wooded, and of a great height.
The river winds on past many a hamlet and burg; the forests and vines succeed to each other; islands are passed, and the scene constantly changes; spires rise among trees, old houses peep forth, cattle wade in the stream, and our little skiff glides along until Beilstein Castle appears, so beautifully placed, and so charmingly surrounded by forest, that we at once stay the course of our boat, and pull out our sketch-books. The townlet is nestled in walls, which are adorned with several turrets, and over it stands up the sharp-pointed spire of a church: the castle presides above all.
A great load of bark is slowly drifting down our river’s sparkling tide, and the boats are crossing and recrossing, filled with busy husbandmen.
Where our boat now stands, once a gentle peasant girl found her death and grave together, and with the latter peace, we trust.
THE SHIPMASTER’S DAUGHTER OF BEILSTEIN.
Kuno of Beilstein was struck with the beauty of a shipmaster’s daughter. She heard and responded to his love, believing the words that he spoke.
The innocent dove cannot stand any chance with the hawk; so the poor girl after a time found out, to her cost, when Kuno forsook her.
Madness seized on the brain of the wretched girl, and for a long time her senses were wandering; but one morning in spring her memory returned, and she begged her father to take her where she might gaze on the castle of her false betrayer, for she loved him still.