The Bridge of Thread
In olden times in the valley of the Ahr, stood
castle
Neuenahr on one bank of the river, and on a great mountain opposite,
Castle
Landskron. The lords of these two strongholds were attached by a close
bond
of friendship, and in order to be able to visit each other frequently,
they
caused a bridge to be built across the river, thus putting an easy
means
of communication between the two castles. But in later years bitter
feuds
divided the two houses; no steed now thundered across the bridge, no
knight
nor noble lady was ever seen going to and fro.
Gradually the bridge crumbled to ruins and fell
into
the waters of the Ahr. Only the two pillars of the bridge escaped
destruction,
and stood there: crumbling and forgotten, like sentinels dipping their
feet
in the stream.
Now after many years it happened that a young
knight
grew up at Landskron Castle, and at the same time a beautiful maiden at
Neuenahr.
These two did not look on each others with enmity, but rather with
tender
love. Although the bridge lay at the bottom of the river, and neither
path
nor ford gave means of communication between the two castles, yet these
two
lovers had found each other's secret. The maiden used often to sit at
her
window, looking wistfully over at the other side, while her longing
heart
wove a thousand dreams of future happiness.
As she thus pondered a clever plan came into her
head,
and when it had become quite clear to her, she braided her golden
ringlets
and set about her work. A crossbow was at once brought from the
armoury,
a roll of cotton was tied to an arrow, and with a skilful
hand
– hope
in
her heart and a prayer on her lips – she shot the
arrow over to the
neighbouring
castle. Thus love, which had built the bridge, now aided her, and a
little
ring on a thread as fine as a hair soon passed industriously to and
fro,
and many a piece of parchment swearing fidelity and love to each other,
went
backwards and forwards across that airy bridge.
The wind soaring over the valley smiled when she
saw
this work, and vowed graciously to spare it; the birds promised the
same;
even the swallow knew how to revere secret love.
The legend is silent as to how many months the
lovers
thus continued to communicate with each other; but however we know thus
much,
that the dissension between the two houses ceased, and one day the
Knight
of Landskron led home the Countess of Neuenahr as his wedded wife. The
ruined
bridge was again erected between the two castles; again the steed
thundered
across, and many a knight and many a noble lady were seen going to and
fro.
Then this race died out, as so many others have
done
in the Rhine country. The proud forts of Landskron and of Neuenahr fell
into
ruins, the bridge was shaken by storm and wind, and for the second time
it
fell into the water below. Not a stone remains, and only a few ruins
show
the spot where the castles themselves once stood.
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