Part 14

Within this castle’s sacred wall, Though mighty may the witches seem, Their magic has no might at all-- The Owl and Nature reign supreme.

So, creatures foul, who crouch below, Your usual instincts quickly take; Cats, recognise your rat-like foe; Frogs, tremble at the fangs of snake!”

Even as the voice ceased the creatures to whom the above words were addressed seemed to feel their effects and to act at once upon the instructions given. Without any delay, the cats who had dropped down inside the castle walls on receiving the watery deluge with which the mannikins had greeted them, rushed with fury upon the {204}unhappy rats whom they saw before them, apparently forgetful of everything except those natural instincts which led them to destroy and eat animals whom they had ever been accustomed to regard as fit objects wherewith to satisfy their hungry appetites. At the same instant it seemed to strike the snakes that a perfectly legitimate opportunity had arisen for feasting upon those frogs who were congregated in their immediate vicinity, and, acting at once upon the idea, they commenced to swallow the wretched creatures without any unnecessary delay.

The mannikins calmly looked down meanwhile, and watched their enemies destroying each other until there was scarcely a live rat or frog left in the place, and the toads had fled frantically into the wood for fear the snakes should mistake them for frogs and they should be subjected to a fate from which all their dabblings in magic art might not have been able to preserve them. When the cries of the devouring and devoured creatures below had pretty well ceased, and few save cats and snakes were any longer to be seen in the courtyard, the owl gave a signal at which the mannikins turned on the water which, unknown to any person save themselves and their master, had been laid on to supply the castle in case of fire, and which by a judicious arrangement of pipes could be made to flood the courtyard at pleasure. The gorged cats and snakes were unable to make any effort to escape, although the latter might probably have swum safely off, many of them being water-snakes, and entertaining no great objection to the element. But, alas for them! there was one little circumstance which entirely prevented it. The _water was boiling_; {205}having been conducted through the kitchen of the castle, the large boilers of which had, by the owl’s orders, been carefully heated for the occasion. The shrieks of the wretched animals were dreadful to hear, when they became aware of the trap in which they had been Caught and the cruel fate which awaited them, from which escape was hopeless. They strove in vain to clamber up the walls or to creep through the holes; wherever they succeeded in raising themselves up from the water on to the walls, the mannikins with drawn swords and fierce looks relentlessly pushed them back into the hot bath below, so that, after a space of some twenty minutes or so, any person who desired a meal of boiled cat and snake-sauce might have been easily accommodated, and every one of the wretched creatures had perished.

Thus the castle was rid of the last of its invaders, and the mannikins had only to let the water off, which they did by means of a large sewer underneath the courtyard, the stone covering of which having been lifted by means of a spring worked from above, the bodies of the slain were washed below, and all traces of the battle and its victims were swept away from that part of the castle in an incredibly short space of time. Victory, entire and complete, now rested with the defenders of the castle, and their joy may he easily imagined. Not a mannikin had been slain or hurt, so effectually had they been protected by the power of the great owl, and the defeat and loss which had been inflicted upon their enemies had been of a character to prevent, or at all events greatly to lessen, the probability of any future attacks.

The {206}little people passed the rest of the night in the most sensible and proper way possible; that is to say, they put out the lights and went to bed, which is a thing which every reasonable creature should do at a proper hour, unless he happens to be desirous of weakening mind and body by depriving both of their natural rest, and thereby shortening the term of his existence.

The mannikins were astir early the next morning, putting everything to rights after the confusion of the night’s adventures. The glass was carefully picked out of the holes in the wall, the courtyards were cleaned, the bodies of those of the enemy who had fallen outside were decently buried, and the whole place resumed its former peaceful appearance within a very few hours. Then the mannikins returned to their usual lives; their swords were put away, their angry feelings forgotten, and their time spent in singing, dancing, and merriment as heretofore.

Meanwhile the three witches were in a frame of mind by no means enviable. Dame Stokes and Mother Wandle still smarted considerably from the effects of the severe whipping which they had each received; and although Goody Tickleback had, by her superior cunning, escaped that disagreeable punishment, she suffered bitterly from mortified vanity and disappointment at having been so entirely defeated in the attack which she had planned against the castle of the mannikins. The three old women took counsel together as to whether there was anything more to be done against those whom they chose to consider their deadly enemies, or whether they had better give it up as a bad job. Evil, however, never sleeps or remains quiet if it can possibly help it, and {207}so strong was the spirit of evil’s power over these wretched creatures that they felt themselves constrained to go on with their wicked work, and to plot and scheme something more against the innocent objects of their hatred. Their proceedings, however, had been rendered somewhat more difficult by the total failure which they had just experienced. They found the cats resolute in their refusal to embark in any further enterprises of a similar character to the last. The toads glared and spat dreadfully from fright when the subject was merely alluded to; and as to the rats, snakes, and frogs, they had suffered so heavily in the recent disaster that it was impossible to expect that anything short of absolute compulsion would induce a single one of them to take the field.

Under these circumstances the witches had recourse to the stoats and polecats, who were a fierce and bloodthirsty race, and might be of essential service if they could be persuaded to undertake the matter. Indeed, Goody Tickleback bit her lips with vexation at having forgotten to secure these powerful allies before, as she felt that they would have materially contributed to the strength of her former expedition, and consequently to its chance of success. Accordingly, having bribed them with large promises of tender young rabbits, and having paid a portion of the bribe in advance, which the cunning creatures insisted upon as a condition of their doing anything at all, the wicked old women succeeded in bringing a considerable army of stoats into the field, together with a small but compact band of polecats. The wily dames had sorely tempted the foxes and badgers of Windsor forest, but the former animals made various {208}excuses, and the latter, having consulted a famous old badger who lived at that time in the Brocas clump, declined altogether to have anything to do with the matter. So the three witches led forth their army, composed only of the animals I have mentioned, and arranged to cross the river upon a certain evening. The particular place upon which they had fixed to cross was at a considerable distance from any bridge, and some of these animals therefore had to swim, whilst those who could not or would not do so were provided with boats and rafts constructed by the magic powers of the old women. They themselves flew over in the usual manner, one as a bat, another on her famous broomstick, and the third on her awful steed. Then they stood on the opposite bank, awaiting their army, who, when they had finished all their preparations, sharpened their teeth and claws, and made other necessary arrangements, plunged into the river, and began to follow their leaders.

And now occurred one of the most singular scenes which it has ever been my good fortune to witness since I first presided over the destinies of this noble river. I have seen a great many strange things and people, Brother Rhine, and been a spectator of a great many curious sights. Moreover, during a long period of years, I have carefully inquired into and studied the natural habits and ways of living which distinguish the numerous animals, birds, and beasts which inhabit the banks and waters of my stream, in all of whom, indeed, I have ever taken that lively interest which becomes a person in my position. But I may as well frankly tell you at once that nothing ever astonished me more than the scene which followed the attempt of the stoats and polecats to cross {209}the river in order to attack the owl’s castle. They got nearly half-way across without anybody offering to dispute their passage. Then, all of a sudden, a strange, wild sound was heard, and a song was borne down upon the breeze which I knew full well as the war-song of the noble swans who honour my river by making it their home, and who are well known as the finest and handsomest swans in all Christendom.

“The swan swam up the stream; Swim, swan, swim! The swan swam down again; Well swam, swan!”

This was the whole of the song; the words are simple, and apparently convey no particular meaning, being little more than the statement of a fact which may without difficulty be accepted as true, coupled with an expression of approval of the manner in which the bird in question had performed a natural and not uncongenial task. But if you were to hear this song sung by a number of swans together, all keeping tune exactly, and sailing down upon you as they sung, with flashing eyes and arched necks, evidently actuated by no friendly feeling, it is very doubtful whether you would care much about either the words or their meaning, and not improbable that you would prefer to be somewhat farther off from the sounds of the entrancing melody. So at least it certainly was with the allies of the witches, when a body of at least fifty or sixty swans (being a larger number than I had ever previously seen together in any part of my river) suddenly appeared sailing down upon them at full speed. It was altogether a most extraordinary proceeding on the part of the noble birds, who, although {210}ready and most able to defend themselves if attacked, are generally of a quiet and peaceful nature, and had hitherto, as far as my knowledge went, interfered with none of the other dwellers in or near the river, but lived in friendship and harmony with all.

Their intentions, however, upon the present occasion were never for a moment doubtful after their first appearance. They charged down upon the army of stoats and polecats with a force and velocity which rendered resistance impossible. The boats and rafts were at once overset by the impetuous fury of their attack, and the occupants thereof were in another instant struggling in the waters. Nor did the swimmers fare any better, for the powerful blows inflicted by a swan’s beak in every instance either stunned the animal struck, or so disabled him that he could swim no farther, but sank beneath the water to rise no more. The wretched creatures could do nothing to defend themselves, for the swans were too wary to approach their breasts near enough to any of the savage little animals to allow of their getting hold of their soft feathers. They kept far enough off for their own safety, after once upsetting the boats, and yet sufficiently near to deal out the pecks of death upon the struggling carcases with little or no risk to themselves. They utterly broke through and dispersed at once the line of the swimming and floating army, and then, turning round and coming up stream, slew multitudes of the wretched animals as they swam for their lives one way or another. A very few moments sufficed for the total rout of the witches’ army, not one of which ever reached the shore to which they were bound, though a few managed to swim back in safety, and those who had been {211}only just about to enter the river naturally gave up any further idea of doing so, and fled in great confusion back to the shelter of the forest from which they had come. The swans, meanwhile, who had ceased singing their war-song as soon as they reached the enemy, and had commenced a violent and angry hissing, which they only suspended when they bowed their heads in order to peck an enemy to his death, now recommenced their musical strains so soon as they had completely routed and destroyed the invading army, and swam back up the river with heads elevated high in the air, shaking themselves now and then with an air of conscious strength and exultation.

During the progress of these events, Brother Rhine, the state of mind and general feelings of the three witches may be better imagined than described. They wept, they howled, they tore what hair they had, they used language with which I will not sully my lips, and manifested every token of frantic rage and consternation. Charms and incantations they would have tried, but they knew well enough that they had no power whatever over things or beings in my sacred waters. The swans only laughed at their wild fury and strange gesticulations, and the old women remained upon the bank, perfectly helpless. Once more their plans against the owl and his mannikins had utterly failed; and they saw the destruction of the army which they had taken so much pains to raise, without the smallest power to avert the catastrophe which again dashed their fondest hopes to the ground.

At the conclusion of the scene which had terminated so disagreeably to themselves, the witches, having nearly {212}exhausted themselves with their rage, calmed down a little, and began to look at each other and wonder what they should do next. This, however, was not a matter long left within their own choice; even as they stood, the heavens grew dark with a mysterious and unnatural darkness, low mutterings of distant thunder were heard, and the wind wailed mournfully as it swept across the river and through the trees of the adjoining wood in which stood the castle of the mannikins.

A deep and distant terror seized upon the three witches as these things occurred; they felt, somehow or other, that those were near against whom their magic arts were powerless, and that some wonderful and awful Presence was at hand which they could neither withstand nor avoid. Trembling in every limb, they cowered upon the bank, shivering as if with cold, their teeth chattering, their eyes ready to start out of their heads with fright, and their hearts beating with that fear of coming judgment which wickedness always brings sooner or later to hearts that conceive and practise it. Some internal and inscrutable feeling seemed to warn them that their hour of punishment was near, and that retribution was at hand--retribution for all the pain and misery which they had caused to others ever since they first sold themselves to work evil instead of endeavouring to lead good and pious lives, and to be a comfort instead of a plague and torment to their fellow-creatures.

The suspense which they endured during this time was probably something more terribly painful than one can imagine, and the uncertainty of their coming doom made it all the more dreadful in anticipation. This state of things lasted for some little while, and a stillness, solemn {213}and awful in its intensity, reigned around. The wind fell again, and the sound of thunder ceased; only the old river went rolling on in its calm, ceaseless stream, the soothing ripple of which smote upon the ear of the unhappy witches as the solemn tones of a judge must fall upon the guilty criminal before him. Each moment seemed an hour to the terror-stricken old hags, and I imagine that no child who has waited in a dentist’s room until that popular operator was ready for him has ever endured half the agony of expectation which was experienced at this time by the three witches.

At last the silence was broken, and that in a manner which it would have been impossible for them to have anticipated. The low roll of a drum was heard in the wood, which sound swelled gradually upon the ear, and was then mingled with other martial music, evidently betokening the approach of an army. In a few moments more there issued from the direction of the owl’s castle a strange and unwonted procession. First of all came a splendid array of cock pheasants, gay with their bright and gaudy colours, and carrying their well-known banner of dark blue, in the centre of which is depicted a magnificent bird of their species looking round with a defiant air, whilst underneath him is inscribed the celebrated motto of his race--“Game to the last.” The pheasants were followed by a strong detachment of partridges, each with his brown horseshoe strongly developed upon his breast, whilst a golden wheat-sheaf upon a banner of russet brown, and the motto, “Hurrah for the harvest-fields!” showed the character of the regiment. They were followed by a body of woodcocks and snipes, marching {214}in alternate ranks, and displaying their respective banners, being a bird of each race worked in blue upon a white ground, and represented as tossing his long beak high in the air and saying, in the inscription below, “Settle my bill if you can!” To these succeeded a gallant regiment of bantams, whose arrogant motto, “Cock of the walk,” was displayed upon their crimson flags; whilst the “Come back! come back!” of the Guinea-fowl was seen upon the banners of the next comers. Other bands of birds followed, each with its own peculiar standard and device, and all marched in slow and solemn order from the wood to the music already mentioned, which was played by an invisible band within the leafy shade of the same.

As each regiment emerged from the wood, it advanced within a stone’s throw of the three witches, and took up ground at that distance, so that the old women found a semicircle gradually forming around them, which extended on all sides save that on which the river flowed. When numerous companies of birds had arrived and taken their places, there next appeared a strong detachment of squirrels--animals to which it is well known that witches entertain a peculiar dislike, on account of the restless activity of their nature, and their constant habit of dropping nutshells suddenly on the heads of persons engaged in unholy incantations and rites in the forests wherein they happen to dwell. The old women shuddered afresh then, when these creatures appeared upon the scene, especially as they came on, each armed with a bag of nuts, and with eyes full of mischief. They were followed by a quantity of rabbits, whose grave and martial appearance would have led you to suppose that there {215}were no such things as weasels or ferrets in the world; and after the rabbits came the principal part of the performance.

More than one hundred mannikins, fully armed and equipped, rode out of the wood, each mounted upon a prancing hare. Their saddles were made of mouse-skin, their bridles were of the best red tape, and their tortoiseshell bits rattled in the mouths of their fiery steeds. Each mannikin had upon his head a burnished helmet of mother-of-pearl, in which was a plume from the wing of a kingfisher, and the armour of each was of the best wrought tin, and sparkled gaily in the sunlight, which now again spread over the heavens as the troops emerged from the trees. The mannikins rode forward in loose order, whilst immediately after them came a close carriage, drawn by twelve cream-coloured hares, and surrounded by twenty mannikins on either side, and a number of owls of every species and description following behind. The mannikins who had ridden in front gave way when they approached the witches, falling back on either side so as to allow the carriage to pass between their ranks. It drew up immediately before the three trembling hags, and the attendant mannikins, bowing low and uncovering their heads, opened the doors for its occupant to descend.

You can have little doubt, Brother Rhine, as to who that occupant was, nor, indeed, was doubt long permitted to the personages most immediately interested in the drama about to be performed. From forth the carriage stepped a figure which all at the same moment recognised as that of the black owl of the castle. Not long, however, did he remain in the shape in which his audience {216}were most accustomed to behold him. Throwing back the head-dress and feathery cloak which begirt him, the figure of a noble youth stood before the astonished witches. His head was thrown back in contemptuous scorn, his eyes flashed with the indignation which virtue always experiences in the presence of vice; he stretched forth his hand, in which was grasped an ash stick, carefully peeled, so that it shone fresh and white, and this he waved gently in the air as he spoke in clear and sounding accents--“Vile hags!” he exclaimed; and as he uttered the words, Dame Stokes, Mother Wandle, and Groody Tickleback fell on their knees, whining and moaning in piteous tones--“Vile hags! once more have ye presumed to tempt your fate by plotting and scheming the destruction of my mannikins. The warning which ye had previously received seems to have produced no effect whatever upon ye, and ye will now have to endure the punishment ye have so well earned!”

As he spoke the old women grovelled on the earth at his feet, and mumbled forth in low and beseeching accents, “Oh, sir! _please_ let us off this time; just this once; it is the first time--we’ll never, never, do it again. _Please_ ‘give us first fault’!”

This expression, always well known among witches, and intended to express the forgiveness of an offence because of its being on that occasion committed for the first time, appeared greatly to increase the anger of the person addressed.

“First fault!” he exclaimed, indignantly, “why, how dare you utter such a falsehood? You have been complained of a dozen times at least by my mannikins, and I {217}have only spared you hitherto from a hope that you might reform, and give up your evil practices. You have not only made yourselves the pest of the whole place for a long time past, but you have now for the second time projected an attack upon the castle which I specially protect. First fault indeed! Two of you were well flogged the other day, and there is now nothing for it but to send you away altogether.”

At these words the wretched creatures burst into a howl of anguish, upon which the young man waved his hand, and a burst of sound arose from the invisible band, in which the tones of the bagpipe were distinctly audible, and which completely drowned the cries of the miserable witches. As soon as the latter and the music had ceased together, the young man continued to speak in a voice as stern as clear--