Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1857-09-11
Eitrrarp Selections.
CASTLE sHEURENDORF.

Rhine country stand the ruins of an an
cient castle, so old that even tradition has
forgotten when it was built. Nothing
remains of it now but a few archways,
portions of massive walls, and the lower
story of two round towers. Bits of
woodwork adhering in the walls here
and there, show that its final destruction
was by fire, which did its work most
thoroughly. Yet even in its present
ruined condition, it may easily be seen
that the builders of it designed it for a
IoDc and strenuous service; and though
battered and fallen, though the ivy climbs
aver its crumbling towers, knitting its
curious fingers between the loosened
.,one-work, though its foundations cape
with many months, as if in WEAKNESS Of
lopa warfare, yet unless man comes in to
hasten its doom, it bids fair to defy an
aIg hundred years before finally yield
ngrD Inc ghost. The ancient most is
merely little grassy hollow, scarcely
deep enough for a child to hide in, and
Of course every trace of its draw-bridge
gas gone long ago. The archway of
le principal gate may still be seen in
one of the remaining towers, but in a
very precarious condition, and no one
but a gipsy, or a school-bOy in hunt of
birds nests, would venture to pass
through.
There is something about this old castle
which makes it uncomfortable for ner-
yous people to pass near it after night
fall, though, as far as I have heard, this
is no fault of its own, for it is as quiet
and peaceful an old ruin as exists any
where, but mainly on account of certain
very ancient traditions of terrible cruel
ties enacted in its subterranean dungeons.
II is even said by those who have ven
tured in, that there are deep pits within
the enclosure of its walls, and dark arch
wavs leading into the solid rock, and
that if one only stays five minutes in one
of these, he will see sights enough to
freeze his blood with horror which l
dare say is the truth. But the phenome-
non is not confined to old castle pits. Any
large gloomy cellar will be as good for
such experiments. But the wilderness
Of the ruin contributes to this feeling,
while stories of crimes committed there
since it was last inhabited, make the
sight Of it more dreadful to the peasan-
try than a murderer's bier by night. A
handful of gold would not bribe the poor
est of them to venture near it, except
during broad daylight. He would see a
ghost in every white stone, and the shak-
ing Of the ivy would sound like voices Of
the dead, or the rustic of shrouds. Yet
after ALL it is a harmless old ruin. Chill
dren might gather flowers at its feet, and
the laborer find cool retreat in its shad-
Ows during his noon-day meal. Like
many a man and woman in this queer
world of ours, it must suffer on account
of the misdeeds of others with whom ii
has been connected. Poor, lonely old
castle.
There are times indeed when one
cannot help thinking it must be happy
as when the ivy puts forth its tender
shoots, and the young leaves talk anC
play together in the warm, sweet light o
May and June. How they checker it
old sides with playful shadows, and bring
the soft winds to whisper round its corn
er8. The birds build by scores within
it, and keep it lively for at least thre
months out of every year. And certain
lyI do not know of lovelier hauntin
spot for a poet, on clear night in JUNE
Mysterious whisperings everywhere 6
round, coming and going, like sigh
from the old vanished ages. Fantasti
visions of something-you may not Sc
what-playing in the chinks of the ruiz
ed.walls, where the moonlight strikes
And over all, ike the ivy, hangs
dreamy sense of long ago, with thol
sand stories and legends futtering fort
ike leaves-Wouldst like one of thoS
leaves? Here it is, dear reader plucl
ed expressly for thy qualification.
y little less than hundred years ag
this old castle was inhabited by the hous
hold of Baron Won SheurendGrf, wo
thy member of that large class of &c
man mobiles whose titles by much ou
weigh their purses. Partly on accou
Of his poverty, and partly from his n
lural disposition, the Baron lived
strict retirement, never visiting his neig
oors, and rarely seeing them at his cast
lis domestic affairs, since the death
Ills wife, had been under the charge
his onlv dauobtar Madeleine a beau