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Men
and women and cattle were at work in the dewy fields by this time. The
people often stepped aboard the raft, as we glided along the grassy shores,
and gossiped with us and with the crew for a hundred yards or so, then
stepped ashore again, refreshed by the ride.
Only the men did
this; the women were too busy. The women do all kinds of work on the continent.
They dig, they hoe, they reap, they sow, they bear monstrous burdens on
their backs, they shove similar ones long distances on wheelbarrows, they
drag the cart when there is no dog or lean cow to drag i — and when
there is, they assist the dog or cow. Age is no matter — the older
the woman the stronger she is, apparently. On the farm a woman's duties
are not defined — she does a little of everything; but in the towns
it is different, there she only does certain things, the men do the rest.
For instance, a hotel chambermaid has nothing to do but make beds and
fires in fifty or sixty rooms, bring towels and candles, and fetch several
tons of water up several flights of stairs, a hundred pounds at a time,
in prodigious metal pitchers. She does not have to work more than eighteen
or twenty hours a day, and she can always get down on her knees and scrub
the floors of halls and closets when she is tired and needs a rest. |
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As
the morning advanced and the weather grew hot, we took off our outside
clothing and sat in a row along the edge of the raft
and enjoyed the scenery, with our sun-umbrellas over our heads and our
legs dangling in the water.
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along
the edge of the raft
Illustration: |
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Every
now and then we plunged in and had a swim. Every projecting grassy cape
had its joyous group of naked children, the boys to themselves and the
girls to themselves, the latter usually in care of some motherly dame
who sat in the shade of a tree with her knitting. The little boys swam
out to us, sometimes, but the little maids stood knee-deep in the water
and stopped their splashing and frolicking to inspect the raft with their
innocent eyes as it drifted by. Once we turned a corner suddenly and surprised
a slender girl of twelve years or upward, just stepping into the water.
She had not time to run, but she did what answered just as well;
she promptly drew a lithe young willow bough athwart her white body with
one hand, and then contemplated us with a simple and untroubled interest.
Thus she stood while we glided by. She was a pretty creature, and she
and her willow bough made a very pretty picture, and one which could not
offend the modesty of the most fastidious spectator. Her white skin had
a low bank of fresh green willows for background and effective contrast
— for she stood against them — and above and out of them projected
the eager faces and white shoulders of two smaller girls
Toward noon we
heard the inspiriting cry, —
"Sail ho!"
"Where away?"
shouted the captain.
"Three points
off the weather bow!" |
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"A
DEEP AND TRANQUIL ECSTASY."
what
answered just as well
Illustration:
"WHICH
ANSWERED JUST AS WELL:" |
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We
ran forward to see the vessel. It proved to be a steamboat —
for they had begun to run a steamer up the Neckar, for the first time
in May. She was a tug, and one of a very peculiar build and aspect. I
had often watched her from the hotel, and wondered how she propelled herself,
for apparently she had no propeller or paddles. She came churning along,
now, making a deal of noise of one kind or another, and aggravating it
every now and then by blowing a hoarse whistle. She had nine keel-boats
hitched on behind and following after her in a long, slender
rank. We met her in a narrow place, between dikes, and there was hardly
room for us both in the cramped passage. As she went grinding and groaning
by, we perceived the secret of her moving impulse. She did not drive herself
up the river with paddles or propeller, she pulled herself by hauling
on a great chain. This chain is laid in the bed of the river and is only
fastened at the two ends. It is seventy miles long. It comes in over the
boat's bow, passes around a drum, and is payed out astern. She pulls on
that chain, and so drags herself up the river or down it. She has neither
bow or stern, strictly speaking, for she has a long-bladed rudder on each
end and she never turns around. She uses both rudders all the time, and
they are powerful enough to enable her to turn to the right or the left
and steer around curves, in spite of the strong resistance of the chain.
I would not have believed that that impossible thing could be done; but
I saw it done, and therefore I know that there is one impossible thing
which can be done. What miracle will man attempt next? |
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steamboat
Kettenschleppzug
im Odenwald
keel-boats
hitched on behind
Heilbronn
am Neckar. (1908) |
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We
met many big keel-boats on their way up, using sails, mule power, and
profanity — a tedious and laborious business. A wire rope led from
the foretopmast to the file of mules on the tow-path a hundred yards ahead,
and by dint of much banging and swearing and urging, the detachment of
drivers managed to get a speed of two or three miles an hour out of the
mules against the stiff current. The Neckar has always been used as a
canal, and thus has given employment to a great many men and animals;
but now that this steamboat is able, with a small crew and a bushel or
so of coal, to take nine keel-boats farther up the river in one hour than
thirty men and thirty mules can do it in two, it is believed that the
old-fashioned towing industry is on its death-bed. A second steamboat
began work in the Neckar three months after the first one was put in service. |
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At
noon we stepped ashore and bought some bottled beer and got some chickens
cooked, while the raft waited; then we immediately put to sea again,
and had our dinner while the beer was cold and the
chickens hot. There is no pleasanter place for such a meal than a raft
that is gliding down the winding Neckar past green meadows and wooded
hills, and slumbering villages, and craggy heights graced with crumbling
towers and battlements.
In one place
we saw a nicely dressed German gentleman without any spectacles. Before
I could come to anchor he had got underway. It was a great pity. I so
wanted to make a sketch of him. The captain comforted me for my loss,
however, by saying that the man was without any doubt a fraud who had
spectacles, but kept them in his pocket in order to make himself conspicuous.
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our
dinner
Illustration:
LIFE ON A RAFT. |
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Below
Hassmersheim we passed Hornberg, Goetz von Berlichingen's
old castle. It stands on a bold elevation two hundred feet above the surface
of the river; it has high vine-clad walls enclosing trees, and a peaked
tower about seventy-five feet high. The steep hillside, from the castle
clear down to the water's edge, is terraced, and clothed thick with grape
vines. This is like farming a mansard roof. All the steeps along that
part of the river which furnish the proper exposure, are given up to the
grape. That region is a great producer of Rhine wines. The Germans are
exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles,
and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by
the label. |
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Hornberg
Burg
Hornberg: Ansicht von Norden.
Burg
Hornberg: Ansicht von Westen.
Burg
Hornberg (9. August 2003)
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The
Hornberg hill is to be tunneled, and the new railway
will pass under the castle.
THE CAVE OF THE SPECTER
Two
miles below Hornberg castle is a cave in a low cliff, which the captain
of the raft said had once been occupied by a beautiful heiress of Hornberg--the
Lady Gertrude-- in the old times. It was seven hundred
years ago. She had a number of rich and noble lovers and one poor and
obscure one, Sir Wendel Lobenfeld. With the native chuckleheadedness
of the heroine of romance, she preferred the poor and obscure lover.
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Hornberg
hill is to be tunneled
[This
didn't happen. Probably Mark Twain mixed up 'Hornberg' and 'Hirschhorn':]
Hirschhorn
am Neckar.
Lady
Gertrude
Illustration:
LADY GERTRUDE. |
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With
the native sound judgment of the father of a heroine of romance, the von
Berlichingen of that day shut his daughter up in his donjon keep, or his
oubliette, or his culverin, or some such place, and resolved that she
should stay there until she selected a husband from among her rich and
noble lovers. The latter visited her and persecuted her with their supplications,
but without effect, for her heart was true to her poor despised Crusader,
who was fighting in the Holy Land. Finally, she resolved that she would
endure the attentions of the rich lovers no longer; so one stormy night
she escaped and went down the river and hid herself in the cave on the
other side. Her father ransacked the country for her, but found not a
trace of her. As the days went by, and still no tidings of her came, his
conscience began to torture him, and he caused proclamation to be made
that if she were yet living and would return, he would oppose her no longer,
she might marry whom she would. The months dragged on, all hope forsook
the old man, he ceased from his customary pursuits and pleasures, he devoted
himself to pious works, and longed for the deliverance of death. |
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Now
just at midnight, every night, the lost heiress stood in the mouth
of her cave, arrayed in white robes, and sang a little love ballad
which her Crusader had made for her. She judged that if he came home alive
the superstitious peasants would tell him about the ghost that sang in
the cave, and that as soon as they described the ballad he would know
that none but he and she knew that song, therefore he would suspect that
she was alive, and would come and find her. As time went on, the people
of the region became sorely distressed about the Specter of the Haunted
Cave. It was said that ill luck of one kind or another always overtook
any one who had the misfortune to hear that song. Eventually, every calamity
that happened thereabouts was laid at the door of that music. Consequently,
no boatmen would consent to pass the cave at night; the peasants shunned
the place, even in the daytime. |
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mouth
of her cave
Illustration:
MOUTH OF THE CAVERN.
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But
the faithful girl sang on, night after night, month after month, and patiently
waited; her reward must come at last. Five years dragged by, and still,
every night at midnight, the plaintive tones floated out over the silent
land, while the distant boatmen and peasants thrust their fingers into
their ears and shuddered out a prayer. |
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And
now came the Crusader home, bronzed and battle-scarred, but bringing a
great and splendid fame to lay at the feet of his bride. The old lord
of Hornberg received him as his son, and wanted him to stay by him and
be the comfort and blessing of his age; but the tale of that young girl's
devotion to him and its pathetic consequences made a changed man of the
knight. He could not enjoy his well-earned rest. He said his heart was
broken, he would give the remnant of his life to high deeds in the cause
of humanity, and so find a worthy death and a blessed reunion with the
brave true heart whose love had more honored him than all his victories
in war. |
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When
the people heard this resolve of his, they came and told him there was
a pitiless dragon in human disguise in the Haunted Cave, a dread creature
which no knight had yet been bold enough to face, and begged him to rid
the land of its desolating presence. He said he would do it. They told
him about the song, and when he asked what song it was, they said the
memory of it was gone, for nobody had been hardy enough to listen to it
for the past four years and more. |
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Toward
midnight the Crusader came floating down the river in a boat, with his
trusty cross-bow in his hands. He drifted silently through the dim reflections
of the crags and trees, with his intent eyes fixed upon the low cliff
which he was approaching. As he drew nearer, he discerned the black mouth
of the cave. Now--is that a white figure? Yes. The plaintive song begins
to well forth and float away over meadow and river--the cross-bow is slowly
raised to position, a steady aim is taken, the bolt flies straight
to the mark--the figure sinks down, still singing, the knight takes the
wool out of his ears, and recognizes the old ballad--too late! Ah, if
he had only not put the wool in his ears! |
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slowly
raised to position
Illustration:
A FATAL MISTAKE. |
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The
Crusader went away to the wars again, and presently fell in battle,
fighting for the Cross. Tradition says that during several centuries the
spirit of the unfortunate girl sang nightly from the cave at midnight,
but the music carried no curse with it; and although many listened for
the mysterious sounds, few were favored, since only those could hear them
who had never failed in a trust. It is believed that the singing still
continues, but it is known that nobody has heard it during the present
century. |
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presently
fell in battle
Illustration:
(untitled tailpiece). |
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