Hero Tales and Legends of the Rhine | Page 4

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.
The stranger seated himself in silence. At length he began to talk. He
had