Stories of the Rhine Country/The Rat Tower
“THEY HAVE SWAM O’ER THE RIVER SO DEEP”
THE RAT TOWER
In a little island in the midst of the Rhine stands a old, tall castle. Behind it is rise the mountains. At its feet sweeps the river, dark, deep, and full of mysterious voices.
This is the famous Rat Tower. There is a legend about it which tells how it came by its strange name.
Nearly a thousand years ago, this castle belonged to the Bishop of Bingen, whose name was Hatto. Bishop Hatto was rich and prosperous. But he was hard-hearted and cruel.
This is the story of Bishop Hatto as it is told in rhyme by the poet, Robert Southey:
Tradition of Bishop Hatto
The summer and winter had been so wet
That in winter the corn was growing yet.
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.
Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto’s door,
For he had a plentiful last year’s store,
And all the neighborhood could tell
His granaries were furnished well.
At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To greet the poor without delay.
He bade them to his great barn repair,
And they should have food for the winter there.
Rejoiced at such tidings good to hear,
The poor folk flocked from far and near,
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, young and old.
Then when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,
Set fire to the barn and burned them all.
“In faith, ’tis an excellent bonfire,” quoth he,
“And the country is greatly obliged to me
For ridding it in these times forlorn
Of rats that only consume the corn.”
So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily.
And he slept that night like an innocent man,
But Bishop Hatto ne’er slept again.
In the morning as he entered the hall
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all o’er him came,
For the rats had eaten it out of the frame.
As he looked there came a man from his farm,
And he had a countenance white with alarm;
“My lord, I opened your granaries this morn
And the rats had eaten all your corn.”
Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be.
“Fly, my lord bishop, fly,” quoth he,
“Ten thousand rats are coming this way,
The Lord forgive you for yesterday.”
“I’ll go to my tower on the Rhine,” replied he,
“’Tis the safest place in Germany;
The walls are high and the shores are steep,
And the stream is strong and the waters deep.”
Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away,
And he crossed the Rhine without delay,
And reached the tower and barred with care
All the windows, doors, and loopholes there.
He laid him down and closed his eyes,
But soon a scream made him arise;
He started and saw two eyes of flame
On his pillow from whence the screaming came.
He listened and looked. It was only the cat,
But the bishop he grew more fearful for that;
For she sat screaming, mad with fear
At the army of rats that was drawing near.
For they have swam o’er the river so deep,
And they have climbed the shore so steep,
And now by thousands up they crawl
To the holes and windows in the wall.
Down on his knees the bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did tell,
As louder and louder, drawing near,
The saw of their teeth without he could hear.
And in at the windows and in at the door,
And through the walls by thousands they pour,
And down through the ceiling and up through the floor
From within and without, from above and below,
And all at once to the bishop they go.
They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the bishop’s bones.
They gnawed the flesh from every limb.
For they were sent to do judgment on him.
So, tradition tells us, perished the wicked Bishop of Bingen. Some of the legends say that the rats which fell upon him were really the souls of the poor people whom he had murdered.
This is how the castle came by its name. And to this day it is called the Rat Tower, or the Mouse Tower.
Do you remember Longfellow's poem, “The Children's Hour”? In this poem he speaks of the Mouse Tower. The poet sits alone in his study in the twilight. His three little girls are in the hall outside. They laugh and whisper as they plan to rush in all together and give their father a surprise. He hears them.
He thinks of his big easy chair as his castle. His children are trying to take possession of it. He keeps very quiet. Suddenly
Through three doors left unguarded,
they break in upon him. He says:
They climb up into my turret,
O'er the arms and back of my chair,
If I try to escape they surround me,
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse Tower on the Rhine.
Some day you may go to Bingen and see for yourself the famous Rat Tower, standing straight and slender and graceful on its little green island. You will hear the winds and the waves as they seem to whisper — whisper — these stories to each other.
When the great sun sets behind the mountains, the Rhine sometimes turns red as blood. Then a strange warm glow, like fire, falls across the lonely Rat Tower. This fierce, red glare, the peasants say, is sent as a warning against cruelty to God's poor and hungry children.
Slowly it dies away. Over the crumbling walls of the castle glide long gray shadows. Upward they creep — higher — higher — higher. They reach the dark tower. Through door and windows, through chink and crevice and keyhole they steal.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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