Schaffhausen

In olden times, when the Alemans first invaded Switzerland, they

practised the bloody rites of their religion at the Falls of the Rhine,

near Schaffhausen, and sacrificed many white horses to the god of the

Rhine. These steeds were driven into the water some distance above the

cataract, and in spite of their frantic efforts were swept over the

brink by the rapid current.

Not long ago, horse-shoes could still be seen in the cracks of the

rocks near the waterfall, and even now, on moonlight nights or on misty

days, the ghosts of these sacrificed steeds can still be seen, rearing

and plunging in the waters, and wildly tossing their snow-white manes.

These wraiths are most clearly discerned during the night from Friday

to Saturday, because it was then that they were offered up in sacrifice

to the old heathen gods.

A ghostly chariot, drawn by white oxen, was also seen formerly driving

down the stream to Schaffhausen, where it went thrice around the town.

When this circuit took place from right to left, it was considered

an infallible sign of good fortune; but when it made the journey in an

opposite direction, bad luck was sure to ensue.

* * * * *

IN olden times, when nothing but a convent and boat-landing stood on

the present site of the city of Schaffhausen, a nobleman once came down

to the river to fish. Weary of his exertions, he finally fastened his

skiff, and lying down in the bottom of it, fell asleep.

But while thus oblivious of all that was taking place, his vessel

slipped its moorings, and drifting out into mid-current, was swept over

the falls. The passenger was so sound asleep, however, that he did not

even rouse when hurled down into the thundering abyss, and was greatly

amazed on awakening to find his boat had drifted ashore far below the

dreaded cataract.

In token of gratitude for this narrow escape, this nobleman is said to

have founded the Benedictine abbey at Rheinau, on the very spot where

his skiff drifted ashore after its perilous journey down the Rhine.[12]

[12] For other legends of Schaffhausen, etc., see the

author’s “Legends of the Rhine.”

* * * * *

A YOUNG fisherman, who had a similar experience, fatuously imagined

that if his vessel went safely over the falls without being steered,

it could not fail to do the same when guided by an experienced hand.

He therefore loudly boasted that he was about to go over the cataract

again, and in spite of all remonstrances on the part of friends and

relatives, actually made the attempt.

The skiff, however, was soon caught in the whirling waters, and in

spite of all the fisherman’s efforts, dashed against the rocks. For one

minute the horrified spectators saw the broken boat and clinging youth

pause on the brink of the abyss, then they were swept over into the

whirlpool, whence they never emerged! Since then, on the anniversary

of this foolhardy attempt, the ghost of the reckless youth can be seen

drifting down the stream, and with a blood-curdling cry of despair it

invariably plunges over into the vortex at the foot of the Rhine Falls.

* * * * *

WHEN noble knights still dwelt on the Randenberg, a pious maiden set

out from there before dawn every morning to walk to the convent of All

Saints at Schaffhausen, where it was her custom to attend early mass.

Her sole escort on this daily walk was a faithful stag, which patiently

awaited her coming at the castle gates every morning. When it was

very dark, this faithful animal walked lightly ahead of her, proudly

carrying a flaming torch between its branching antlers, and it always

waited at the city gates to accompany her home.

One day when the pious maiden and her attendant stag were nearing the

city, they were suddenly attacked by wayside thieves. With a cry of

terror, the maiden sped on as fast as her trembling limbs would carry

her; but when she came to the city gates she saw with terror that they

were still shut. Knowing no human help could reach her in time to save

her from the hands of the miscreants, she now had recourse to a short

but fervent prayer, and the last words were scarcely uttered when an

angel darted down from heaven, keys in hand, and led the maiden into

the city, closing and locking the gates in the very face of the cruel

highwaymen.

Ever since the pious maiden was thus miraculously saved by angelic

intervention, that gate of Schaffhausen has been known as the

Engelbrechtsthor, or the gate broken open by an angel.

* * * * *

WHERE the recently restored castle of Munot now stands, there was

once an older building occupied by a noble lord, who set out for a

pilgrimage to the Holy Land, leaving wife and children safe at home.

Those were the days of slow travel and no mail; so months became years

without the Lady of Munot’s receiving any tidings of her absent spouse.

She therefore began to fear that he was dead, or that he had entirely

forgotten wife and children at home. But such was not the case, for

the knight, having surmounted many perils, was now very near home, and

spurring on with all haste, in spite of the darkness, to see his family

sooner.

Only a short stretch of wood, and the torrent of the Mühlenthal lay

between him and his castle; but although the knight fancied he knew

every inch of the ground, he soon lost his way. Instead of crossing

the swollen stream at the usual place, he plunged into its waters at

the most dangerous point, only to find a watery grave within sight

and sound of home. One of his faithful retainers, however, managed to

escape from the torrent, and sadly bore the sorrowful tidings to the

poor widow.

When the Lady of Munot learned how her spouse had perished, she put

on mourning which she never laid aside, and to prevent other belated

travellers from meeting a similar fate, hung a silver bell in the

castle tower and had it rung for an hour every night.

The mournful toll of this little bell at nightfall not only served

to guide travellers safely through the forest, and keep the knight’s

memory green, but also reminded his former vassals to say a prayer for

the rest of their dead master’s soul.