The bloody knife of the Druids remained long all powerful, but we need
not follow its later fate. Cæsar had conquered and pacified Gaul,
and the successors of Augustus fulminated their Imperial {052}decrees
against the Druids, as slayers of men, while the same knife continued to
shed the blood of the Germans.
[Illustration: 072]
[Illustration: 075]
III.
{055}_A Visit to the Land of our Forefathers.--The two Banks of the
Rhine.--Druid Stones.--Weddings and Burials.--Xight Service.--A Dentigod
Glacier.--Social Duels. A Countrywoman of Aspasia.--Boudoir of a Celtic
Lady.--The Bard’s Story.--Teutons and Titans.--Earthquake._
Any one who has ever travelled in my company, must know that I am apt
to stray from my way, or at least to choose the longest route. I have
a fancy to-day, to turn my eyes and my steps away from those sacred
precincts of the Druids, which {056}had become slaughter-houses and in
which the hand that blessed was also the hand that killed.
I desire to breathe an air less filled with the perfumes, or rather the
fetid odor of sacrifices. Up there, on that hill-top, where the setting
sun lights up the bright summit, I shall breathe more freely.
Here I am.
Beneath me the Rhine spreads out its two banks, not united yet by any
bridge, and even without a ferry to bring the one nearer to the other.
But on both sides, half hid under dense willow thickets and gigantic
reeds, there lie, in many a shallow little bay, large numbers of tiny
barks. These cunning looking boats belong to harmless fishermen in the
daytime; but at night they are filled with robbers and corsairs, who
form in bands, cross over to the other side in search of booty, and even
venture, if needs be, out into the Northern Sea. Just now nothing stirs;
the fishermen have gone home, the corsairs have not come forth. I look
farther out.
On the left bank there are some Gallic Celts encamped, with blue eyes,
white skin, and abundant golden tresses. Almost naked, their principal
garment seems to be that immense shield, almost as long as their body,
which shelters them on the march as well as when they are at rest, and
which protects {057}them against the sun and the enemy alike. All of a
sudden I hear them, with lips held close to one of the edges of their
shields, utter sharp cries, which are taken up and repeated, from
distance to distance, all the way down the river. To these cries, which
no doubt represent their telegraphic system, there comes an answer from
far sounding trumpets.
[Illustration: 077]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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