Legends of Windeck

Concerning the neighbourhood of Windeck, some eight miles from Baden, several interesting tales are current.  The castle itself has long enjoyed the reputation of being haunted by the ghost of a beautiful girl, though when or wherefore this originated tradition does not relate.  We are told that a young huntsman, whom the chase had driven thitherward, saw the spectre and was so stricken with her charms that day after day he visited the castle, hoping to see her once more.  But being disappointed, he at length took up his solitary abode in the deserted fortress, renouncing his former pursuits and ceasing from all communication with his friends.

One day he was found dead in his bed with so peaceful an expression of countenance that those who saw him could not doubt that his end had been a pleasant one.  On his finger was a ring of quaint design which he had not been known to wear, and it was whispered among the peasantry that the ghost-maid of Windeck had claimed her lover.

The Hennegraben

Hard by the Schloss Windeck lay a deep trench, known as the Hennegraben, of which traces may still be found.  It is rendered immortal by reason of the following romantic legend, which tells of its magical origin.

A certain young knight, lord of the castle of Windeck, for some unknown reason had seized and imprisoned the worthy Dean of Strassburg.  It is true that the Churchman was treated with every consideration, more like a guest than a captive, but he nevertheless resented strongly the loss of his liberty, as did also the good folk of Strassburg when they learned what had happened.

Two of the Dean’s young kinsfolk resolved to journey to Windeck and beg that their uncle might be set free.  On their way thither they had to pass through a forest, where they met an old woman.

“Whither away, my pretty boys?” said she.  “Will you not tell an old gossip your destination?”

The elder of the two replied courteously that they were on their way to Windeck, where their uncle was imprisoned.  “Perchance,” he added timidly, “the lord may accept us as hostages till the ransom be paid.”

“Perchance,” mimicked the old woman, “aye, perchance!  Think you the knight of Windeck will take such lads as you are for hostages?”

And in truth they were not an imposing couple—­the elder a slim, fragile youth, whose eyes were already tearful at the prospect of confronting his uncle’s captor; while the younger was a mere boy, sanguine and adventuresome as children often are.

“I will challenge this knight,” said the boy seriously.  “I will draw sword for my uncle, for I also am a knight.”

“Hush, Cuno,” said his brother, smiling in spite of himself at the boy’s ardour.  “We must not talk of fighting.  We must entreat the knight to let our uncle go free.”

“What would you have, Imma?  Entreat?  Nay, that we shall not.”  He stopped awkwardly, and his sister’s rising colour showed plainly her embarrassment at having her sex thus suddenly revealed.