On the day appointed for the interview between the two sovereigns, Frederic ordered several magnificent tents to be pitched along the bank of the river which was occupied by the German troops, while on the French side, Louis and his suite merely sheltered themselves under a clump of oak-trees.
The King wore a green hunting-dress, a plumed hat, and a short sword. He had left the city under the pretext of hunting in a neighboring forest; for he was anxious that the meeting should seem purely accidental, at least, to the French people, who had a profound contempt for the Antipope Victor, and were displeased with the alliance between Louis VII. and the schismatic Barbarossa.
The annoyance caused him by this forced interview, was apparent on the King's face, and his uneasiness increased as he gazed at the rows of tents stretching far into the distance. Barbarossa, indeed, had come at the head of a numerous army, in order the better to enforce his policy, and all the princes of the Empire were ordered to rendezvous at Laon, with their several contingents on a war-footing.
The King was accompanied by the Duke of Burgundy and the Counts of Champagne and Nevers, the latter of whom was a bold and arrogant noble, bitterly opposed to the papacy. A violent enemy of Alexander, he was none the less so as regarded Victor, and if he favored an alliance between Louis and the German Emperor, it was merely through a hope that this would better enable him to enjoy the fruits of his robberies.
A little later the Primate of France, Peter of Tarantasia and Galdini Sala, appeared near the bridge. The latter, since the fall of Milan, had been residing at Alexander's court, and had now come with the Archbishop of Tarantasia from Cluny, and had apparently been delegated on some secret mission.
Louis breathed more freely as the time passed without any signs of Barbarossa, for he began to hope that the Emperor would not come, and the interview not take place.
"What think you, my lords?" he said. "His German Majesty seems to care little for his promise. It is late now, and the hour fixed upon is long since passed."
"Some unforeseen occurrence must have detained him," said Henry of Champagne, who had observed his sovereign's secret satisfaction; "but he cannot fail to be here soon."
"Would it not be well," remarked one of the nobles, "for your Majesty to inform him of your arrival."
"No," answered Louis; "what use is there of this exchange of messages? What is the King of France, after all? Perhaps the Emperor has already forgotten this trifle."
"He has been detained by some state affairs," said the Count of Nevers.
"And I suppose, until these affairs are settled, the King of France can wait. Very well indeed," replied Louis. "But we will wait no longer--although there are some persons in France who desire our humiliation, and perhaps even our dethronement!"
These words, intended for the Count of Champagne, were uttered with some bitterness.
"Those men are nothing more than traitors!" said the Duke of Burgundy, who was aware of the relations between Henry and the Emperor.
The Count scowled angrily at the speaker.
"I did not believe," added the King, "that in all France there was a man base enough to sell his honor, even if there were any one capable of paying him in false promises."
"The passions, and particularly covetousness," resumed the Duke, "corrupt the heart and dispose it to the commission of evil deeds; but it is positive that France does contain persons, who are ready to sell their country."
"Are you perfectly assured of the existence of such persons?" asked Champagne, who, with difficulty, restrained his anger.
"I have heard them spoken of," replied the Duke.
"A man of honor is cautious in accusing others."
"Each man knows whether or not he is a slave to Barbarossa," answered the Burgundian. "I can only watch the traitors as long as they wear the mask of loyalty; but if they ever venture to show their faces, they shall pay dearly for their perfidy."
"Why this discussion, my lords?" said the Primate, who desired to prevent a still more unfriendly retort from the King's brother-in-law. "I am sure that, whenever France shall unfurl heroriflamme, Burgundy and Champagne will fight side by side beneath its folds."
"I am always at the post to which my honor and my oath assign me!" said the Count proudly.
"There can be no doubt on that point," added Louis; "you are united to us by the double bond of vassalage and relationship."
The Count of Champagne made no reply; his pride forbade further discussion. In ordinary circumstances, he would have mounted and ridden away without a word of apology; but now he was obliged to yield, but he did so with a firm resolution of revenging himself on the Burgundian Duke, on the first favorable opportunity.
Louis appreciated the danger of a quarrel between his vassals, and he hastened to change the subject.
"The hour has passed," he said, looking at the sun. "You, my lords, can bear witness that it is not we who failed to appear."
"But the Emperor will certainly come; wait a little longer," urged the Count Henry.
"No, Count; our self-respect forbids it, and I am tired of waiting. Frederic shows clearly by his absence, that his consideration for your sovereign is not excessive, and I am almost inclined to believe the reports which attribute to him pretensions to supremacy over all the princes of Christendom."
"As it may please you, Sire. However," continued Henry of Champagne, "you may possibly regret the results of your too hasty departure."
"The results! What mean you?"
"The Count means to say," replied the Duke of Burgundy, "that the enemies of France may profit by the opportunity to accuse you of breaking your royal word, and to invade our frontiers."
"Let them come if they wish; we will meet them!"
Louis looked towards the German camp, and under the influence of returning fears, was about to wait still longer, but the Duke opposed him.
"You cannot, Sire, without compromising yourself. If the Emperor means war, all your concessions will not prevent him from fixing a quarrel on you."
"I commend France to the care of the Almighty," said the feeble monarch; "but be kind enough, noble Duke, to ride over and salute the Emperor in my name."
"Heaven preserve me from it! I never meet the enemies of France except on the battle-field. It is at the head of my men-at-arms that I will pay my respects to Barbarossa;" and the fiery soldier mounted his charger.
"Since it is necessary, reverend father," said Louis to Peter of Tarantasia, "that you bear the Pope's message to the Emperor, have the kindness to explain to his Majesty that I have complied with all the conditions agreed upon, and that I have waited beyond the hour appointed."
"You may trust to me," said the pious Archbishop.
After another glance behind him, the King mounted, and rode with the Duke of Burgundy towards Laon.
The Count of Champagne leaned with a gloomy air against a tree, and the savage William of Nevers, smiling ironically, approached him.
"The Burgundian," he said, "speaks as though he meant to dispute Barbarossa's claim to the Empire."
"You seem jovial, my lord," replied Henry.
"And why should I not be? The heroic soul of the Duke of Burgundy will inspire the King. Our valiant sovereign will not keep his promise. As Alexander will not come, Barbarossa will be obliged to bring Victor. Ah! there is a worthy man for you; he thinks it no crime to rob a rich convent! But, if Pope Alexander keeps his place, the devil! I will have to do penance!"
Whilst the Count of Nevers was explaining the motives which attached him to Frederic and Victor, the two ecclesiastics were conversing privately.
"King Louis may be sincerely devoted to the Holy See," said Galdini Sala; "but he will not go to war against Barbarossa. I have grave fears for the Holy Father; he will be incarcerated in some lonely cloister, and will stay there, strictly guarded, until his last hour. Meanwhile, Victor, Frederic's devoted slave, will rule as the Emperor may dictate; and the court prelates will follow his bidding, until the whole Church falls into a deplorable condition."
"These fears are only human; but God's decrees are inscrutable, and beyond the comprehension of mortal man," replied the Archbishop. "How did Louis receive the news of the negotiations with the English King? I know that your mission is to sound him on that subject. But here comes the Emperor;" and he pointed to a cloud of dust in the distance.
The cavalcade advanced rapidly; the armor glittered in the sunlight. Princely banners, and the sumptuous robes of the nobles, could be distinguished; and at last the escort drew up before the tents.
Followed by Rinaldo and the French Counts, the Emperor entered his tent, chafing angrily at the announcement that the King had gone.
"He imagines that he has acted royally," said Barbarossa; "is it not ridiculous to think that peace is endangered, because one of us came to the bridge a little later than the other? But how is it with the chief article of the treaty? Will the Cardinal Roland be present at the council?"
"The Archbishop of Tarantasia will give you every explanation on this point, Sire," replied the Count of Champagne. "All that I know is, that he refused the royal invitation."
"The invitation! What does this mean? Do you think that Roland can be influenced by an invitation? You will be good enough to remember, my Lord, that in our treaty, sworn to by you in the name of your King, it was stipulated that Roland should be forced to appear before his judges."
"Most certainly, Sire; and I will perform what I have promised; but I cannot oblige the King to do as much."
"Still it is the only way to prevent him from violating his oath," added William of Nevers.
There was a pause, Frederic's brow darkened, and his eye cast a threatening glance towards France.
"It is evident," he resumed, "that Louis hopes to deceive us, but we will not permit it. The king of France will learn that no one can, with impunity, baffle the plans of the mightiest nation of the earth! Chosen, by the grace of God, to protect the Church, it is our duty to establish order and even to punish kings! Count, you will freely express to your sovereign our discontent.--We insist on his executing every article of the treaty which he has sworn to.--Remember that you have pledged yourself to bring the Cardinal Roland before the Council, either with or without his consent. If the King of France desires, as ardently as we do, to promote the peace and well-being of the Church, he will spare neither entreaties nor threats to decide the French bishops to take part in the Council. The non-observance of the most insignificant clause, in a solemn treaty, will be looked upon by us as a declaration of war. We will invade the country, and we will compel the King not to leave the Church and his subjects in the hands of a few bigoted fanatics. My lord Chancellor, order this message to be written and sealed."
Dassel bowed and left the tent, well satisfied with his master's energy.
"You will perfectly understand, my lords," said Barbarossa, suddenly changing his tone, "that we receive the Archbishop as an envoy from the King of France, and not as Roland's messenger."
The French nobles left, with Rinaldo, to be presented to the German princes.
"What a mixture of weakness and bravado!" said the Emperor to himself. "I shall regret a war, but, at any cost, France must cease to be the protectress of the Pope."
His soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of the Archbishop, whose noble and saintly appearance produced a great impression upon the monarch. Accustomed to see the prelates of his Court covered with finery and sumptuous robes, he was surprised at the Archbishop's simple and unpretending attire. Although well versed in the religious customs of the day, and aware of the wide-spread reputation of Peter of Tarantasia, Frederic was surprised at the inward emotion which he experienced at their meeting. On the other hand, the prelate appreciated the Emperor's position, and knew his hostile intentions towards the Church,--but he gazed calmly upon him, as though he would read his inmost thoughts.
"I am happy to be able to know you personally, worthy father," said Barbarossa, as he invited the prelate to be seated. "I have heard so much in your praise that I can only desire that all our prelates would take you as their model. Allow me to say one word: I know that Roland has refused our invitation. I should have been prepared for it; some characters are emboldened rather than subdued by danger. Still I am curious to learn the motives which have dictated his refusal."
"The motives were not invented by him, Sire. Our Holy Church teaches that her chief cannot submit to any earthly tribunal."
"In this I recognize the Cardinal's pride!"
"The Holy Father implores you to persecute the Church no more; it grieves him to see everywhere the laxity of morals, the universal discord which has been produced by your fault. He complains, above all, that you leave certain episcopal seats vacant, or else that you confer them upon men who are under ecclesiastical censure."
"Naturally we do not choose Alexander's partisans for Bishops. This would be only to warm the viper in our breast. But I am wrong in excusing myself to one who is accused; it is contrary to reason. If we were willing to apologize to Pope Alexander for all the insinuations which he has made against us, our honor would not support the trial!"
Frederic spoke with much bitterness and rose to indicate that the audience was at an end. The prelate remained quietly seated; he understood Barbarossa's disposition perfectly, and he regretted to see so influential a sovereign follow a course which could not but cause great evils to Christendom. He deplored the fatal consequences which were inevitable, and he endeavored to make them evident in terms the novelty of which must have surprised the Emperor.
"Your Majesty is right in insisting upon the recognition of the Imperial supremacy. But cannot the Holy Father solicit a similar favor; that is, the acknowledgment of his spiritual independence?"
"Doubtless! We have no pretensions to interfere in any way with Papal matters."
"Still, you do interfere with them in the most outrageous manner! The vicar of Jesus Christ has scarcely place on earth to rest his feet! Everything has become Imperial: we have Imperial bishops, Imperial convents, Imperial abbots, and, in the schools, Imperial instructions!--If that be just, what need is there for a Pope?"
This striking truth, uttered with perfect calmness, scarcely awakened a memory in Frederic's soul.
"Your reasoning," he replied, "is false and unjust at the same time! The whole earth belongs to the Pope, and he can cast his fisherman's net where it may please him; we, the protector of the Church, will certainly not hinder him."
"Yes, you will allow him to act so long as he is obedient to your orders; but if the Pope should wish to be his own master, if he should wish to reign independent of all human control, what would happen then?"
"There is but one sovereign lord upon earth," said the Emperor, proudly; "the laws are only the expression of his will, and all power exists by it alone!"
"It may be so for earthly concerns; but for spiritual matters, God has chosen another sovereign, the chief of religious unity, the supreme shepherd of Christianity--the Pope!"
"The Emperor also belongs to the fold of the faithful," said Frederic, quickly, "so that the Pope must be the Emperor's shepherd, his spiritual father; am I not right?"
"Most certainly; God said to the first Pope, 'Feed my sheep;' he made no exception to the Emperor."
"And yet the Roman Emperor bore the title ofpontifex maximus! How do you explain that, my lord Archbishop?"
"The Roman emperors were pagans."
"Be it so; I am and will be entirely a Roman emperor!"
"A pagan head on a Christian body!"
"No!" answered Barbarossa; "but go to Byzantium; examine thePandectsof Justinian; you will see there that an alliance may exist between a pagan on the throne and Christianity."
"You support yourself on Justinian? but what was Justinian's code? Was it not the destruction of all liberty, the abrogation of every right of humanity? Great God!" added the illustrious prelate, standing sorrowfully before the Emperor, "what error! what peril! But the Pope has not yet worn the yoke of slavery; the nations of the Christian world will not permit it."
"Very well! But if, in case of disunion, the people leaned towards the spiritual, it would be easy to lessen the Emperor's person, and overthrow the tyrant."
"One moment, Sire; you give an incorrect interpretation to our meaning. The father of the faithful ought to oppose all those who wish to exercise tyranny and oppression. The Gospel delivered mankind from the slavery imposed upon it by paganism. Believe me," added the old man, in a prophetic tone, "the day that the Popes shall cease to protect liberty, anarchy and revolution will convulse the world."
Barbarossa shook his head with an incredulous and discontented air.
"The Emperor of the East has no Pope," he replied, "and yet he reigns peacefully."
"You are again in error, Sire! Mark attentively what is going on in Byzantium. What do you see there? An exhausted and dying kingdom, a weak and corrupt clergy, a host of ecclesiastics knowing no law but the Imperial will; an effeminate people without morals, and puffed up with vanity and servile ideas. Is this the state to which you would reduce your brilliant Empire?"
"You exaggerate; matters are scarcely in so bad a state as that."
"Ah, Sire! they are in an infinitely worse condition. Great God! I see it now; Salisbury was right!--I deplore it, but he was right."
"Salisbury!" said Barbarossa, starting, for he had a great respect for this illustrious scholar. "May I ask in what he was right?"
Peter sighed deeply.
"Why do you hesitate, my lord Archbishop? You know the opinion which a wise man entertains of our actions; why then do you seek to conceal it from us?"
"Salisbury occasionally writes to me, Sire," said Peter, with an embarrassed manner.
"Well, what has he written about us?"
"I received his letter a few days since," replied the prelate, drawing a parchment from his bosom; "it contains a dissertation upon the present condition of the Church, and particularly upon your designs. But it tells me no more than your Majesty himself has just stated, still I was unwilling to believe it."
"Speak!"
"You will it so; make up your mind then to listen to some bitter truths.--
"Led astray by the principles of the Justinian Code, Frederic dreams of the renewal of the brilliant Roman empire in its complete and most deceitful form. Either he does not understand the great Christian Empire, or it is insufficient to gratify his pride. He has less desire to be the protector of the Church than to be her master. The Pope must steer St. Peter's boat according to the Emperor's will; the bishops must be nothing but abbots of the Empire, and religion must be subordinate to the ends which the Government proposes. As he has destroyed the free life of the Church, so does he subvert the liberties of the people. Instead of preserving the ancient manners and customs of his people as is his duty, his plan contemplates the reorganizing of everything. If this Emperor ever succeeds in his designs, it will be by the abolition of all independence. Still, what prince could be compared with Frederic before he became a tyrant, and from a Catholic Emperor degenerated into a schismatic?'"
Frederic heard this discourse with marked astonishment, and more than once was on the point of interrupting; at last, at the word schismatic, he colored with anger, and exclaimed,--
"Enough! the letter of this learned personage is full of exaggerations! The name of schismatic cast in our teeth seems to be looked upon as an excuse for everything.--Because Victor's humility seemed to us more worthy of the Holy See than Roland's pride, we are called the destroyer of Church liberty!"
"Pardon me, Sire, it is my duty to say a few words in reply," remarked Peter. "You speak of Victor's humility, but Victor is, after all, your creature; a plaything which your breath sends whither it will; a puppet which you have chosen to obey all your caprices:--And should Victor be the supreme Head of Christendom?"
Barbarossa was confused by such language. The old man's frankness, his calmness and dignity, obliged him to listen. There was no animation in his manner, but his clear voice sorrowfully expressed his feeling of duty.
Barbarossa looked at him in silence.
"You will acknowledge, Sire, that the Pope must be free and independent to discharge his ministry. What would become of an enslaved Church, dependent upon the will of a temporal ruler? Great God! to what baseness would she not be obliged to descend; what infamous enormities would she not have to sanction, under the pretext of State policy! A religion which acts in the interest of human passions instead of opposing their indulgence, could not aid in the salvation of souls--Everything would be subverted; sin would invade the whole world, and would extinguish Christ's holy light, and with it all faith, all desire, all power of good!--And this," concluded the prelate, with energy, "this is the state of degradation to which you would reduce a Church which has existed for a thousand years!"
The Archbishop had risen, and stood before the Emperor like a prophet of old.
"It is well! enough of this; we understand independence, but within certain limits."
"It is not independence, but duty which dictated my words, Sire! May this appeal of an aged prelate, ready to appear at the judgment-seat of God, not be lost upon you! It is more difficult to speak the truth to princes than to conceal it. I have told you naught but the truth. May Heaven in its mercy enlighten your Majesty!"
The Archbishop bowed, and left the room.
"By my faith!" cried Barbarossa; "there goes a worthy man; one not often met with! His words might have turned from its determination a spirit less decided than mine!"
The Duke of Austria had scarcely dismounted, when he was informed that Galdini Sala requested an audience. At the time of the siege of Milan, Galdini's name had been so often mentioned that the Duke felt almost a sentiment of pride at being thus brought into personal relations with one who had exercised so weighty an influence over the besieged. Consequently, he hastened to the tent where Sala was awaiting him.
The Archdeacon held in his hand a roll of parchment to which a seal was attached. This was the usual form of correspondence between persons of distinction. "With a low bow, Galdini presented the letters, but scarcely had Henry opened the roll and glanced at the seal, when his face assumed an expression of astonishment.
"What do I see? a letter from His Holiness! to me!" he cried. "There must be a mistake here; this letter must be for the Emperor, or the King of France!"
"It is addressed to Henry, Duke of Austria, and is highly important," said Galdini, respectfully.
The Duke cut the silken thread, and to the great surprise of the prelate, read over the Latin brief; for his studies in the Convent of Fulva had enabled him to do without a secretary.
"Clemence at the Papal Court! I thought she was in Germany! His Holiness is enraged at this criminal act--scelus et flagitium; yes, it is indeed a crime," said the Duke, continuing to read, and accompanying the reading with his own commentaries. "The divorce is declared null and void. The Lion is excommunicated and banished. By my faith, these are the words of a true Pope! I must speak to the Duke on the subject. I fear it will be labor in vain!"
"Your Highness will be faithful to the voice of the Holy Father," replied Sala. "Your Highness alone, among all the princes in the Imperial camp, is worthy of the Pope's confidence, and he charges you to protest against this sinful deed. It should be the Emperor's duty to protect the unhappy Duchess, but Frederic is not opposed to the divorce!"
"It is most true; it is a miserable measure of political expediency in the interest of territorial aggrandizement," said Henry, warmly. "The Emperor's villainous Chancellor has directed the whole business. My cousin's daughter lived on the best possible terms with her husband, before the interference of that felon. Ah! princes will not see to what their ambition leads them, until the halter is around their necks."
"What has all this to do with the divorce?"
"You do not understand the plot," resumed Henry; "the repudiation of Clemence must make trouble between Saxony and her relations; the union of those two houses would have thwarted all Frederic's designs against the liberties of the people, the clergy and the nobility."
"Frederic evidently seeks to assure his supremacy," said Galdini, endeavoring to excite the Duke to a fuller confession.
"There is no doubt about it. Why does he not assign incumbents to the vacant fiefs? He keeps them for himself. He owns already all the territory from Rottemburg to Besançon. He sows discord among the nobles, adds the fiefs to the crown, and has organized in the Church an army of corrupt Bishops! Tell me, is not that one way of assuring his Imperial supremacy?"
"It seems so to me."
"That is not all. The Empire is to be divided according to the old Eastern system. One of my followers, who was with Barbarossa during the last crusade, has heard him express his admiration for the Byzantine Empire. Barbarossa needs a capital, another Constantinople, and he has already made his selection. It is Mayence! Wait until he returns to Germany, and you will see whether this city be not deprived of all her liberties, as a punishment for Arnold's murder, and if he does not make her his capital!"
"But why do you aid him with your troops?"
"Because I am alone in my way of thinking! Besides, I have already spoken frankly to the Emperor, and he is well aware that I will not further his guilty projects. I have spoken frankly to you, that you may repeat my words to the Holy Father. Alexander must not yield; he is the only protector of right and liberty!--I am going to fulfil your message, and that, too, in your presence."
The Duke raised the curtain, and left the tent; a moment afterwards he returned with the Saxon prince.
"This is a messenger from His Holiness, Pope Alexander III.," said the Austrian; "he has given me this letter."
And he began to read it off in German.
"This is perfectly useless," said the Lion; "neither you, my dear Duke, nor Alexander, are called upon for an opinion; the sentence has been pronounced; the affair is concluded."
"The sentence has been pronounced, and by whom?"
"By Pope Victor, the legitimate chief of Christendom."
"Is it Henry the Lion who speaks thus?" said the Duke of Austria, with more dissatisfaction than surprise. "No one ever despised Victor more than you have done! Who has ever called him the Imperial puppet as often as you? and yet, to-day, he is for you the chief of Christendom!"
"The last reasons are often the best!"
"Because you need some excuse to justify your misdeeds!"
"Misdeeds? Duke, what does this mean!" said the Lion, with an air of menace.
"Must I then call evil good, and good evil? No, Duke of Saxony, not yet; not even in Frederic's camp! Do not misunderstand my frankness, Henry; your divorce is a wrong, a crying injustice, a stain upon your name."
"Your interference in my private affairs is insulting to me, my lord!" said the Lion, sullenly.
"Is not Clemence my relative?"
"Too distant to warrant such excessive interest."
"The duty of every knight is to defend the rights of helpless woman," replied the Austrian. "Besides, I am fulfilling the Pope's mission. He has excommunicated you; is that of no moment?"
"Very well! your message has been delivered; the rest is my own business."
"What! You will put yourself in opposition to the whole Church, you will endanger your own soul, while you violate the rights of chivalry?"
"Enough of this; spare me these superfluous representations. At my own formal request, the Holy Father has annulled my marriage; neither you, nor any one, even Alexander, can make me reverse my decision."
As he spoke he turned his back upon the Duke, and hastily left the tent.
"You see there a fair instance of the respect paid to one's conscience, and the sanctity of marriage, in the Imperial court," said the Duke, sadly. "Frederic set the first example of a divorce, and he will find scores of imitators."
"Alas!" Galdini exclaimed.
"I am uneasy for Clemence's safety. The fate of the unfortunate Empress Adelaide is still unknown; she has disappeared, and Clemence too might be spirited away, if I did not prevent it. I will go to-day, and solicit from the French King a strong escort to conduct her to her relatives. The unfortunate princess will travel through Lorraine and Bavaria to Austria under the protection of my troops. She will there be able to end in peace her blighted existence; for, even should Henry return to kinder sentiments, she can scarcely look for much happiness in her husband's society."
Galdini Sala thanked the Duke, and they separated after the latter had repeated his assurance of unalterable fidelity to Pope Alexander.
"Recommend me, my house, and my country to the blessing of His Holiness--and comfort poor Clemence."
Whilst the archdeacon was on his way to the tent where the nobles were assembled, Barbarossa was taking leave of the Count of Champagne, and their parting was so affectionately cordial that Sala was astonished.
"I will soon make a visit to that beautiful castle of yours, of which my cousin appears so fond," said Frederic to the Count, as he was mounting on his horse.
"I thank your Majesty for the honor you will then favor me with," said the Count, bowing respectfully and dashing off, followed by his retinue.
Without a moment's loss of time, the Count of Champagne returned to his castle, and Nevers presented the Imperial despatch to the King.
The same evening Manasés and Champagne held a long and secret interview. The Emperor's letter had greatly embarrassed Louis, for Rinaldo had rather exaggerated Frederic's warlike language, so that it differed little from a formal declaration of war. The King paced uneasily in his room, cursing the Emperor, the Count of Champagne, and the obstinacy of the Pope. At last he seemed to have made up his mind, and sent for the Chancellor Manasés, Alexander's most bitter enemy.
"This is my opinion," said the latter, after a perusal of the communication; "if you continue to support Roland, war is inevitable; besides, I have learned from another source, that an alliance is about to be concluded between Frederic and the English King. We consequently are in danger of being attacked on both sides at once."
The King's anxiety increased.
"We have fulfilled the duties of a Christian," he said. "I have defended the Pope as far as I am able. No one can compel me to subject my kingdom to all the horrors of a merciless war."
The wily courtier expected this conclusion, and it was decided to send a message, couched in very emphatic language, to the Holy Father at Cluny.
The Chancellor recommended that it should be intrusted to a partisan of Alexander, and the Archbishop of Tarantasia was selected. It is probable that some other choice had been made by Manasés and the Count of Champagne; for when the prelate arrived at Court, on the next day, the Count announced boldly to the King that Peter neither would nor could bear the despatch.
"Have I then no longer a right to choose my own ambassadors?" asked Louis. "What have you against the Archbishop?"
"This holy man cannot suit you, Sire," he replied. "He will kiss Alexander's hand and will address him, with every mark of respect, a request which ought to be communicated as an order. The Pope will be under a false impression; he will refuse to come, and war will break out. Rather send a man in armor with a strong escort, that he may, if needs be, enforce the execution of your orders."
"Employ violence!" exclaimed the King.
"Why are you astonished, Sire? gentle measures have been tried without result, there is nothing left but compulsion."
"It would be an unheard of crime to drag the Chief of Christendom, against his will, before a tribunal composed exclusively of his enemies!" said Louis. "I will not permit it!"
"Very well; but in that case, the Count Henry of Troyes and Champagne will keep his oath."
"One moment, Count, for the love of God! Do not be so hasty, cried the terrified prince. I know your unfortunate oath, but you have scarcely reflected that it would be treason!"
"My oath is an oath even when pledged to an enemy; and yet, Sire, you would make me a perjurer and a felon? Either you will send a proper message to Alexander, or I will go over to the Emperor."
"Since your Majesty cannot resist the Count's arguments," interrupted Manasés, "would it not be well to intrust him with this mission? The situation is delicate; it is necessary not to render it still more dangerous."
After a moment's hesitation, the King consented.
"Go, in God's name," he said; "but I adjure you, on your conscience, respect the Pope, respect the Chief of Christendom."
The Abbey of Cluny belonged to the most illustrious of the religious orders, and controlled two thousand convents distributed throughout Christendom and Palestine. It was not only a pious sanctuary, but also a school, the renown of which extended beyond the seas. Unlike the monks of the other orders who were chiefly engaged in agriculture and field labors, the peaceful denizens of Cluny were entirely devoted to study and the pursuit of science, and attached a greater value to their manuscripts than to any material treasures. Many were constantly occupied in transcribing the works of the Fathers of the Church, and even those of the pagan writers of antiquity. The volumes intended for the church service were richly illuminated in order to be more worthy to appear upon the altar. The Church itself was enriched with pictures, sculpture, and works of art. The dormitories, the halls, and the refectory were filled with masterpieces, and resembled a vast museum destined to defend the fine arts against the ravages of time.
The cathedral, which was the largest in the world, was a marvel of Roman architecture, and everything in it so magnificent, that Saint Bernard could not resist expressing his discontent.
"What use is there of this amazing height, this immense width and endless length, of these sumptuous ornaments, which attract the gaze of the faithful, but distract their attention?" he wrote to Peter, the venerable Abbot of Cluny. "Why all these candelabras studded with precious stones, these costly paintings and works of art? Is it through honor to the Saints that you walk over their images and spit upon those of the Holy Angels? Why these sublime representations on a pavement which must be covered with dust?"
In the opinion of the austere monk of Citeaux, the study after the beautiful was far inferior to that of godliness, and he imagined that the former injured the latter. The most liberal hospitality was lavished in the abbey on all travellers of every rank; women only were excluded; and precise rules specified the manner of the reception of strangers according to their rank and quality. At different times Cluny had entertained Pope Innocent IV., twelve Cardinals, with their entire suite, two patriarchs, three Archbishops, and eleven Bishops, and the King of France, with his mother, brother, sister, and the whole court; the Emperor of Constantinople, the heirs-apparent to the crowns of Castile and Aragon, and several Dukes with their knights and retinues. Still the good monks continued to live in rigorous asceticism; and their liberality to others often reduced them to extremities of privation. They watched over the poor of the neighborhood, and each week the pious brothers sought out the sick and wretched, to administer succor and consolation. On one occasion, during a famine, the Abbot Odilon sold the church ornaments, even to a crown, which had been presented to the monastery by the Emperor Henry II., in order to relieve the wants of the suffering members of Jesus Christ.
Although hospitality was considered an obligation by all the cloisters of the Catholic world, Rechberg was surprised at the scale on which it was dispensed at Cluny; and the presence of the Pope increased the concourse of travellers. Each day came and went messengers to and from all parts of the world; and Erwin heard on all sides a perfect Babel of the most different tongues. Pilgrims were arriving from Greece and Spain, from Muscovy, England, and Arabia, to prostrate themselves before the Apostolic throne. The Roman Empire alone was not represented at Cluny, through fear of the powerful displeasure of the Emperor Barbarossa.
Rechberg admired the learning, the energy, and the grave dignity of the monks, and never before had he experienced so deeply the influence of Catholicity. The Pope appeared to him to be the heart of Christendom, uniting the two extremities; for Frederic's authority was as nothing compared with that of the Holy Father. When he contrasted the Emperor's creature, the false Pope Victor, with the venerable Pontiff, the Head of the Church, he smiled with pity and contempt.
"My godfather will be obliged to subdue the universe," he said to himself, "if he wishes to make the Holy Pope his vassal."
Erwin had resided in Cluny for about a fortnight; the novelty at first amused him, but Antonio's words constantly recurred to his memory, and although full of anxiety to ascertain their truth, a sentiment of duty retained him at the abbey;--he could not desert the unfortunate Clemence.
One day, upon leaving the princess, now more resigned and collected, since she had ascertained with what paternal interest she was looked upon by Alexander, Rechberg was met by the lay brother, a worthy man, who hitherto had done him the honors of the monastery.
"Are you already at liberty, brother Severinus?" asked the Count. "I scarcely thought it was yet time for vespers."
"The good fathers are about going to the choir, and we will take advantage of their absence; you would lose a great deal, Count, if you were to leave us without seeing the pictures in the refectory."
"I don't doubt it; let us go there now." As they were crossing the court-yard, where crowds of strangers were walking beneath the shade of the oak-trees, Rechberg suddenly perceived a man whose face appeared familiar; he had seen him at Castellamare where he had been pointed out by Hermengarde. It was Nigri's servant, Cocco Griffi, and our hero stood still, watching his movements and hoping for an opportunity to address him.
"There is no want of curiosities here," said brother Severinus, remarking his guest's astonishment, "for we have every variety of costume and language. Look at that Arab with his bright eyes and white teeth; he and the grave and haughty Castilian by his side are envoys from the King of Navarre." Just then Erwin lost sight of Cocco Griffi.
"Our painters often come here," resumed the monk, "to study faces and details of which I know nothing; I saw the other day in one of the artist's cells a representation of the devil, which was the living image of a Moor who had been here;--I will show it to you."
Rechberg had not been mistaken. Cocco Grim, in company with a monk, entered a two-storied house where persons of the middle class were lodged. The monk mounted on the steps to examine the red marks traced upon the wall, and then, turning towards Cocco,--
"It is here that Antonio lives," he said, "if you want him."
Griffi went in. The spy was waiting, and at first looked up as though not well satisfied with the interruption; but as soon as he recognized his visitor, he rose and went forward, cordially.
"Cocco! is that you? What good wind brings you here?"
"A miracle, my dear Antonio; when you know it you will be surprised, and, it may be, somewhat provoked."
"I will wager that your master has been doing something absurd; is not that the case?"
"Yes, you have guessed it. My master and the lady of Castellamare are on their way to Cluny; I was sent ahead to announce to you this masterpiece of diplomacy."
Antonio looked at Griffi with amazement, and then broke out, angrily.
"This is a beautiful piece of business, indeed! That ass never had any brains! He will spoil everything! The young girl will come here; she will meet the Count, and all my plans will be thwarted. What imprudence! I suppose he has told her that Rechberg is here with the Duchess, and that on his return he is to marry Richenza; is that it?
"Yes, all but the marriage."
"That's it; he concealed the only thing which he ought to have told."
"Oh, he talked of nothing but Erwin and Richenza, Richenza and Erwin."
"Well, what then?"
"Then! oh, Hermengarde asserted that she was under a vow to make a pilgrimage to Cluny, and that she would no longer delay it."
"The pretext was a good one,"
"Then my master offered to accompany the young person."
"And she refused?"
"Two or three times, but Pietro insisted. They will be here to-morrow at the latest, and my master promises to conduct the affair to your entire satisfaction. You may count upon his gratitude."
Antonio smiled as he heard the last words, for he knew that Pietro possessed immense wealth in Lombardy.
"The affair has miscarried," he said to himself, pacing the room. "But Hermengarde cannot lodge in the cloister; she must stay in the village, and as Cluny opens its gates but once a week to women, it will be a mere chance if she and Rechberg meet."
He turned towards Griffi. "Where are you living?" he asked. "Near the gate; one of the windows overlooks the street."
"Be on the lookout, and let me know as soon as they arrive."