Cleves
Lohengrin
Des
Schwanenritters Abschied
Nach dem Gemalde von W. von Kaulbach
The weathercock on the ancient stronghold at
Cleves is
a swan, and in olden times the dynasty that ruled over the lovely
country
round Cleves had also a swan in their crest. A legend, tragic and
beautiful,
preserved to posterity forever in Richard Wagner's lovely opera, is
connected
with it,
– the legend of
Lohengrin.
Long centuries ago deep sorrow brooded over the
wails
of the castle at Cleves. Its mistress, the Duchess Elsa was in great
distress.
Her beloved husband had died, and his remains had been brought to their
last
resting-place. As soon as the tomb had closed over them, one of the
late
Duke's vassals, Telramund, rose in revolt, and imperiously claimed the
right
to reign over the dukedom. The audacious man went so far as to ask the
widowed
Duchess to become his wife, declaring that this was the only means of
saving
her rank, which the death of her husband had deprived her of.
Elsa, the youthful and lovely mistress, implored
the
knights of her dominion to assist her in her trouble, and to take up
arms
against the rebel. But Telramund, little disconcerted by this appeal,
offered
to fight in single combat with anybody who dared to take up the quarrel
with
him, well knowing that, on account of his immense strength, nobody
would
dare to become his adversary.
The days passed in deepest sorrow for the
unfortunate
Duchess. The moment was approaching when the rebel would make bold to
proclaim
openly his claims before the whole assembled nobility on the open space
before
the castle. The fatal hour came. Pale, her face covered by her widow's
veil,
her queenly form enveloped in mourning garments, Elsa descended from
her
castle to the assembly. The large plain was crowded with a throng of
people,
and glittered with the brilliant armour of the knights.
The unfaithful vassal, covered from head to foot
in shining
armour, came forward with bold steps and claimed in a loud voice the
hand
and dominion of the Duchess. The knights around, deluded by his valiant
appearance and the firmness of his voice, broke into loud applause.
Some
of the crowd joined them in their cry of approbation, but most of the
people
looked on, full of pity and admiration for their youthful mistress.
No answer to his first challenge having come,
Telramund
repeated his audacious demand, offering again to fight in single combat
anybody
who dared to accept it. His eyes glanced defiantly over the brilliant
multitude
of knights. He perceived with triumphant joy, how they all shrank from
fighting
with him. –
Elsa looked still paler than before.
For a third time the challenge of Telramund was
heard.
It sounded dearly over the whole plain. ]gut none of the bright
warriors
came forward to take up the combat for Elsa's sake.
On the contrary deep silence followed the third
challenge,
and everybody's eyes were fixed on the forsaken princess who looked in
her
abandoned position still more lovely. The little hope that had till
that
moment given her strength to bear her misfortune, had now entirely
vanished.
In her utter desolation she offered a fervent prayer to heaven. On her
rosary,
so the legend records, a little silver bell was hanging, which
possessed
the wonderful gift of giving forth, whenever slightly touched, a clear
ringing
sound audible even at a great distance. In praying to God for
deliverance
from her great trouble, she pressed the cross on her rosary fervently
to
her lips. The silver bell tinkled, and at the same moment a little
barge
suddenly appeared on the blue river. When it came nearer, everybody
looked
with astonishment at the strange vessel. Its form was light and
graceful;
but what astonished the people most was that it was not moved
by either
oar or rudder, but was gently gliding on the blue waves drawn by a
snow-white
swan. In the middle of the vessel stood a knight in shining silver
armour.
Long golden locks emerged from under his
glittering helmet,
his bright blue eyes looked boldly over the crowd on the shore, and his
hand
held the hilt of his broad sword firmly.
The strange boat stopped just opposite the plain
where
the people stood motionless with amazement. The knight landed from the
barge,
giving a sign with his hand to the swan, which swam gently down the
Rhine.
In silence and awe the multitude made room for the
stranger
who approached with firm steps towards the middle of the brilliant
circle,
and saluted the assembly with a solemn grace. Then he bent his knees
before
the Duchess and rising, turned towards Telramund, challenging him
proudly
to fight with him for the hand and dominion of Eisa of Brabant. The
bold
rebel's temerity seemed to fail him for a few moments, but gathering
fresh
courage he pulled his sword from its sheath with a loud scornful laugh.
The next moment the two knights darted at each
other,
their blades clashing in rapid strokes.
The whole crowd looked with wonder and amazement
at the
strange knight's great prowess. He parried the blows of his strong
adversary
skilfully. The combat lasted for some time, and neither of the fighters
seemed
to give way. Suddenly a subdued cry was heard, and at the same time the
presumptuous vassal sank to the ground, pierced by the sword of him
whom
God had sent, and expired. A tremendous shout of joy burst from the
gazing
crowd, which rang from one end of the plain to the other and was echoed
by
the glittering waves of the Rhine. The people rejoiced in the victory,
and
thought that God himself had decided the combat in favour of Elsa.
The Duchess felt greatly moved. In her overflowing
gratitude
she sank down before her deliverer with tears in her eyes. But he bade
her
rise, and bowing low before her asked her to become his wife. She
consented.
What a heaven of bliss opened for the Duchess of Brabant! All her
former
troubles were forgotten.
Her gratitude towards her rescuer was transformed
into
passionate love, to which Lohengrin, the virtuous knight, responded
with
tender adoration.
Yet though everything seemed now so serene in the
life
of the Duchess, there was a dim cloud which threatened to darken the
clear
prospect of her happiness. On their wedding-day Elsa had to promise her
bridegroom that she would never inquire about his name, his home, or
his
descent.
Trusting her deliverer's honour and chivalrous
bearing,
she took the strange oath without a moment's hesitation.
Many years of bliss and happiness passed, and Elsa
of
Brabant had strictly kept the promise she had made on her bridal
morning.
Their happiness was still more enhanced by the birth of three hopeful
boys.
They were their parents' joy, and promised to become in future shining
ornaments
of knighthood.
It happened however, when the eyes of the Duchess
were
resting with pride on her sons, that her mother's heart thought with
grief
of the solemn oath she had sworn on her wedding-day.
With how much more pride would she have looked
upon her
sons if she could have known them to be the offspring of a high and
noble
race. She did not doubt however that her beloved husband's lineage was
a
most noble one.
Yet the thought that his sons might never bear
their
father's name, nor be able to add new glories to it, was lying heavily
on
her mind, and darkened the radiant image of her husband, that like a
deity
filled her whole soul.
The fatal question she had for so long withheld
burst
one day forcibly from her lips.
When she had pronounced the awful words, the proud
hero
grew pale, and freeing himself softly from her tender embrace, he cried
out
in bitter grief: "Woe to thee, my beloved wife and woe also to me! Now
that
thou hast uttered the question thou didst swear solemnly never to ask,
our
happiness is gone for ever. I must part from thee, never to see thee
again."
A cry of anguish rose from her lips, but she was
unable
to keep him back. Waving his hand to her in a mute farewell her noble
husband
left the castle. He went to the Rhine and blew his silver horn.
Its sound was echoed from the shore like a long
sob.
The white swan with the boat soon appeared gliding gently over the
river.
Lohengrin stepped into the boat and soon vanished
out
of sight and was seen no more.
His unhappy wife was inconsolable. Her grief was
so intense
that a short time after her health gave way, and she sank into a
premature
grave.
Her sons became the ancestors of a noble and
distinguished
race in the Rhenish country. Their badge is a swan.
The traveller who visits Cleves will still find a
tombstone
in its church with a knight carved on it, and a swan sitting at his
feet.
Click
to go to the next
section of
the Legends of the Rhine
|