Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.

"Your objections are not entirely unreasonable," replied the Empress. "But, as a general thing, parents are not opposed to their children's happiness, and will do a good deal to advance it, even if they have to forget their own personal injuries. But I have just thought of a messenger who will probably be a successful one. Come, let us go to work at once."

CHAPTER XIX.

THE CONSULS

Meanwhile the Milanese were bearing up courageously against all the fatigues and privations of the rigorous siege. The same spirit appeared to animate all classes of the population; merchants, workmen, and nobles were menaced by the same danger, and each and all fought bravely in defence of his rights and the liberty of his country.

Bold sorties were of daily occurrence, and every effort made to introduce convoys of provisions into the city; but the investment was so complete, and all avenues of approach so carefully guarded, that the attempts were always repelled with severe loss. Although as yet there was no scarcity of food, still the possibility of famine at some future day decided the Consuls of Milan to call a council in order to devise the best means of averting the danger. They were fully persuaded that Frederic would not raise the siege, and that they had little aid to expect from their allies.

Genoa, Pisa, and Venice had long envied Milan's power, and would glory in her fall; while the other towns bowed before the formidable armies of the house of Hohenstauffen, and were disposed to acknowledge its supremacy. Their chief reliance was in the success of skilful diplomacy; and for this they counted upon the talents and abilities of one whom the people looked up to as a saint-the Archdeacon Galdini Sala. At the urgent request of the Consul Nigri, the Archdeacon repaired to the hall where the council was deliberating with closed doors, and after a few words of introduction from Gherardo, expressed his views in favor of a continued and obstinate defence.

"If the people are firm," he said, "Barbarossa cannot hope a speedy surrender. I am convinced that Milan cannot be taken by assault, and that the enemy will endeavor to reduce it by famine."

"But is there no means by which we can obtain provisions?" asked the Consul of the merchants. "If Barbarossa ever succeeds in introducing hunger, his most redoubtable ally, within the walls, our cause is lost! No pains, no money must be spared to avert this terrible disaster, even should we be obliged to spend our last penny, and turn into coin our jewels and the holy vessels of our churches!"

"The Church will not be backward if the sacrifice be needed; but before arriving at this extremity, every other resource must have been exhausted."

"It is not money that we need," said the Consul Oberto, a worthy old man, with a snowy beard; "it is not money, for the richest bribes would fail to get an ounce of bread through the gates. The Emperor's blockade is too rigidly enforced, and all attempts to force it have proved a bloody failure."

"Perhaps it would be advisable," said Galdini, "to put the people on rations. So far they have eaten and drunk as though the supply were inexhaustible."

"I am surprised," replied Oberto, "that a man of your shrewdness could propose such a measure. The courage of the people would quail at the bare possibility of a danger to which hitherto they have not given a thought. And," he continued, in a lower tone, "you know well its fickleness, and how little it requires to bring about the most fearful results. The simple report of a defeat excited an insurrection some years ago, in which the Milanese destroyed the palace of a man who had sacrificed everything in the cause of liberty. With even a distant prospect of famine, the citizens would begin to murmur, and probably rise in open mutiny, for they would think it better to wear the yoke of Barbarossa than to die of starvation."

Sala was too just, too practical, to question the reality of the picture.

"Our future looks gloomy," said Nigri. "Should famine begin to decimate our ranks, we shall be obliged to capitulate, and it may perhaps be advisable not to await the last moment. The Emperor might take into consideration our voluntary surrender, and grant us more favorable terms. I propose to open negotiations with him immediately."

The archdeacon opened his eyes with astonishment at Nigri's proposal.

"Open negotiations with Frederic," he cried; "and on what basis?"

"On the most equitable basis," said Oberto; "he who surrenders willingly, always has less to suffer from the conqueror."

"You make a very grave mistake, my lord!" said Galdini; "there is no possible compromise with the tyrant; offer to him the enjoyment of all your rights; abandon all the revenues of the principality, nothing will suffice him."

"But what does he want then?" inquired Cino, the consul of the workmen, a man of rough manners and herculean build, but of very limited intelligence. In spite of the gravity of the situation, Galdini could not repress a smile, as he answered, -

"Barbarossa aspires to universal dominion. He seeks to hold in his own grasp all control of rights and liberties; he wishes to make paltry villages out of our independent cities. Everything must give way before his Imperial supremacy; all must bow at the footstool of the conqueror. Religion, the Church, all that which we look upon as holy, are in his eyes mere machines of government. Such is Frederic's gigantic dream of power; can we, I ask, negotiate with such a man? No! we must conquer, or perish in the attempt!"

The archdeacon had spoken calmly, but with energy, and all felt that he had by no means exaggerated the position. For a moment there was a profound silence, which neither Nigri nor Oberto dared to break, and then the street without seemed suddenly animated, there was a noise of hurried feet and shouts and cries of alarm. Nigri rushed to a window and anxiously inquired the cause.

"To arms! to the walls!" answered a citizen, who in full armor was hastening towards the ramparts; "the tower of Henry the Lion is moving on the city!"

"The tower! the tower!" cried Cino, pale with fear; "take my word for it, before nightfall there will be many mouths less to feed among our fellow-citizens!"

All the consuls seemed equally alarmed, the object of the council was forgotten, and they hastily withdrew. Nigri detained the archdeacon, and taking him on one side, said, -

"One moment, I beg you, my lord Galdini. The words spoken here might, if known, discourage the people. I trust that I may count upon your discretion."

"Your recommendation is needless," replied Sala; "not a word shall pass my lips. Let us hasten, with God's aid, to repel the assault." He pressed Nigri's hand, and the consul hurriedly buckling on his armor, they repaired to the ramparts.

CHAPTER XX.

THE ASSAULT

Milan was in mortal fear. The colossal form of the monstrous machine approached still nearer to the doomed city. The streets were filled with an anxious crowd of women, children, and men-at-arms, all pressing with hurried steps to the scene of danger. From every door rushed the alarmed citizens, buckling their armor as they ran. Wagons filled with caldrons of pitch and boiling oil, creeked as they labored slowly forward, and the shouts of the leaders, the orders of the consuls, and the continued challenge of the sentinels, completed the wild and confused tumult. And still the tower moved slowly on.

The garrison, to repel the attack, brought forward two large machines, which threw stone balls and heavy missiles, and four smaller ones, called catapults, which were to rain stones and arrows upon the besiegers. From the summit of the walls the enemy could be distinguished moving from their camp, in four bodies, and impatiently awaiting the orders to rush forward to the support of the Saxon banner. The city walls were lined with crossbow-men and archers, ready to fire into the loopholes of the town as soon as it should be within range. In the open space between the houses and the ramparts, the noblemen and civic guard were drawn up, ready for the moment when the drawbridges should be lowered and the fight become general. Everything was conducted in an orderly manner, each man knew his duty. The women and children had disappeared; on their knees, in the churches, they were seeking the aid of Heaven in the strife which was so soon to begin.

All the machines were ready to commence their work of destroying the town. The two largest were loaded with stones, so large that it required the united strength of four men to lift them; and fires were lighted, at intervals along the wall, on which were placed huge iron vessels filled with oil and pitch.

Still the tower advanced. Its motive power could not be seen, and it was a terrible spectacle, this enormous giant creeping silently along, as though impelled by the breath of a demon.

From within could be distinguished the dull grating of the machinery, and from the loopholes peered the fierce faces of the German archers as they discharged a cloud of arrows upon the besieged.

Anselmo, the chief of the Milanese artillery, an old man, still vigorous, with bold features and a quick eye, examined the tower carefully, as it neared the walls. The troops, watchful of the least movement of their leader Oberto, were ready to act; but if Anselmo's skill did not succeed in destroying the tower, they felt that the city would be taken.

"Let go the catapults!" cried Anselmo, his eyes always fixed upon the machine.

The order was immediately executed, and the old man stepped back to judge of the effect. There was a deep silence, and all gazed anxiously upon the stern visage of their leader, as he touched the spring of the engine. There was a violent shock and a cloud of stones dashed full upon the front of the tower; but the hay and brushwood, with which it was bordered, broke the force of the concussion. A second discharge was attended with a like result.

"By my holy patron saint!" cried Anselmo, shaking his head, "the jade is solid. If four hundred weight of stone have no more effect than a shower of snow-balls, we have little chance of escaping Barbarossa's companions. However, let us try again."

A larger stone was brought forward and put into the catapult; a moment after it whistled through the air and struck heavily against the tower, but without producing any impression.

"It is useless to try," said Anselmo; "the devil himself must have built that tower!"

"Would it not be advisable," said Nigri, "to arrange the smaller machines for the reception of the stormers, as we cannot prevent the assault?"

"Let go the catapults!" interrupted Anselmo.

But it was all in vain, the advance of the machine could not be checked; and the garrison turned their attention to the smaller engines, which were filled with missiles of every kind, and to the pitch and boiling oil, which was to be poured upon the enemy as he clambered up the walls.

"Attention! hold everything in readiness!" said Anselmo; "mix well the tow with the oil and pitch. Be lively, boys! take care that your casks be filled."

Already, severe fighting was going on, in the open space between the tower and the walls. On both sides bolts and arrows flew unceasingly, and wherever a head appeared at a loophole it became a target for the archers. Germans and Milanese had both suffered severely, for the arrows and stones penetrated through every opening.

"Those Milanese fight very gallantly," said Henry the Lion, as an arrow struck his helmet. "We have already lost fifty men in the tower."

"The foul fiend seize this style of battle!" said Otho of Wittelsbach, who awaited, with impatience, the moment when the tower should close upon the walls.

"We shall encounter worthy adversaries, Count," replied Henry. "They are loading their engines in our honor! – I only trust that the fire may not ruin the tower! The Milanese are skilful artificers."

"Upon my honor, as soon as we are on their walls, they may burn it and welcome," said Otho.

The scene soon began to change; the Milanese had covered their ramparts with boiling pitch, and had lighted a fire at the spot where Henry designed to halt the tower, while barrels filled with burning tow were rolled over on the heads of the assailants.

"Forward now!" cried Anselmo. "Get ready the fireballs!" and he rushed to where the smaller machines were raining a cloud of projectiles upon the drawbridges.

The battle now raged fiercely. The burning tow balls had communicated their fire to the machine, the top of which was in flames; the Germans worked diligently to keep the conflagration in check, until they should be close enough to sally out upon the bridges, while the Milanese with locked shields and drawn swords awaited the attack.

For a moment there was a deathlike silence, and then the bridges fell, and Henry of Saxony and Otho de Wittelsbach, followed by their troops in good order, sprang upon the ramparts. They were resolutely met. Otho had one foot upon the wall, but he was driven back; and though his blows made large gaps in the ranks of the enemy in this fierce hand-to-hand encounter, their places were filled at once with new combatants. The Lion raged, and although a foeman went down at every thrust of his heavy sword, he was still upon the bridge, and could not advance a step upon the rampart. The tower was now in flames, and a cloud of projectiles darkened the air already black with smoke from the burning resin. Still the struggle went on, and many a German knight and Lombard noble fell to rise no more.

Henry and Otho fought on; but in vain: their efforts were powerless to break the wall of steel which the brave Milanese opposed to their assailants. So far, the combat had continued without any decided advantage; for, although they could hold their enemy in check, the citizens were unable to drive him from his position. The image of their patron saint waved proudly above them, and the cry of "Saint Ambrose to the rescue!" rang through the air.

In the midst of the tumult were heard shouts of defiance and of cheer.

"Brothers, think of your liberty! Death to the tyrant!" shouted Pietro Nigri, who was fighting in the foremost ranks.

"For Church and Country! Death to Barbarossa!" cried another voice.

"Death to the traitors! Death to the rebels!" thundered Otho of Wittelsbach, cutting down an adversary at every blow.

The battle became more desperate, and the ground was covered with the bodies of the dead and wounded, whose blood mingled with the boiling oil. Fresh troops came up from the besiegers' camp, anxious to take part in the conflict. The tower was now burning fiercely, and to the cries of the soldiers and the clash of swords and cuirasses, were added the groans of the dying and the crackling of the flames, which issued from every loophole, fit ornaments to this bloody tragedy.

"Back! back!" was heard on all sides; "the bridge is on fire!".

But, though like burning serpents the flames were twisting themselves around the frail passage, although many of the soldiers had retreated from the melée, Henry of Saxony, the Count Palatine, and a few other knights still held their ground. Careless of the enemy in their rear, they gallantly fought onward towards the city. It was in vain; the courage of the besieged increased with the danger. A horrible crackling noise was heard; the tower had commenced to give way, and was sinking. Then those who were on the bridge lost their last hope; an instant more, and all would be lost, for already it was wrapped in flames.

At this moment, the consul Oberto, a white flag in his hand, sprang forward upon the ramparts, and, as the shrill blast of a trumpet pealed out, -

"Valiant knights! noble gentlemen!" he cried; "cease this fearful strife! We value courage, even among our foes; the burning ground is giving way beneath your feet; lower your weapons, and return peacefully to your camp."

From this act of generosity there was no appeal. Henry sheathed his sword, and retired. An instant after, the bridge gave way, and then the tower shooting up one vast column of fire, tottered and fell.

The fight cost the besiegers six hundred men, and the Milanese loss was equally heavy; but it had proved one thing, at least, to Barbarossa, – that Milan could not be taken by assault.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE EMPEROR'S POLICY

Barbarossa continued the execution of his vast projects. As it may be seen, he wished, like Augustus, to be the Emperor of the world, and that every potentate, spiritual or temporal, should acknowledge his sway. But first of all, he was striving to destroy the Papacy. The Roman Cæsar was pontifex maximus; and to be this was the summit of Frederic's ambition. But the only chance of success for this gigantic plan lay in the overthrow of all existing institutions. Frederic knew this well, but his energetic character never faltered an instant, for he cared little, provided his empire were founded, even were those foundations built upon the ruins of the world.

He saw clearly that mere brute force would be insufficient, and that he must employ all the resources of diplomacy. His ambassadors were dispatched to the different courts of Europe, bearing to the reigning monarchs the assurances of his consideration and esteem; on every occasion they were instructed to deplore the unhappy condition of the Church and the obstinacy of Alexander; for Frederic was particularly at variance with Rome, where he maintained a powerful faction, which, by its violence, had finally driven the Pope from the Eternal City. Matters had finally assumed so dangerous an aspect that there was scarcely a city in all Christendom which dared offer an asylum to the legitimate Head of the Church. Barbarossa then convened a general council, in order to give a coloring of legality to his projects. The French and English sovereigns were represented by plenipotentiaries; for both, and particularly the bloody Henry of England, considered themselves to have been wronged by Alexander III.

The approaching Council occasioned no little movement in the Imperial camp, and the crafty statesman Rinaldo was busily engaged in arranging matters, in order that everything might proceed harmoniously.

After some days of feasting and amusement of all kinds, Barbarossa decided to give a solemn audience to the ambassadors. They were invited into the hall of the throne, and after a brief delay, the rich silken hangings were drawn aside and the brilliant retinue of the Emperor appeared. The nobles, clothed in costly robes, entered first, followed by the Emperor, wearing all the insignia of royalty. The crown alone was wanting: – he respected the vow which he had made before Milan.

The monarch ascended the throne; every word, every gesture indicated unmistakably that he felt his importance, and that he considered himself the most powerful sovereign of the world. The nobles surrounded him, shining like brilliant planets around the Imperial sun. The Count Palatine Otho and the Counts of Andechs and Bogen, were on guard, before the doors of the hall, where, clad in complete armor, with their hands resting on their sword-hilts, they resembled so many statues of bronze.

The ambassadors, followed by their suites, then approached the throne, and the Count of Guyenne, French ambassador, commenced in pompous terms an harangue, in which he assured the Emperor of the friendship of his royal master. He deplored and regretted in a diplomatic manner the discord and dissension prevalent in the Church, using terms so vague and meaningless that the Count Otho became impatient and let his sword fall. The loud ring of the weapon had a calming effect upon the orator; he concluded with a brief and high-sounding phrase, bowed respectfully, and withdrew.

The English ambassador, on the other hand, was stiff and sententious, his face retained a grave and stern expression, and Frederic's presence alone gave some appearance of animation to the features of this phlegmatic son of Albion. Frederic was neither excited by the flatteries of the Frenchman, nor wounded by the Englishman's assumption of importance. He knew Louis's crafty policy, as well as the ambition and cruelty of the English King. Henry possessed certain territorial rights in France which he was desirous of aggrandizing, and the constant quarrels, resulting from these pretensions, rendered each sovereign desirous of cultivating exclusively for himself the Emperor's friendship and favor. Frederic knew all this, and he meant to profit by his knowledge. The maxim, "Divide and conquer," was always present to his mind. Alexander had used every effort to reconcile the two sovereigns; Barbarossa, on the contrary, did everything in his power to widen the breach between them. An alliance between the two nations might have been fatal to his projects, and the end to which he now looked was to detach both France and England from the Holy Father, deprive him of his strongest support, and then gain over each, separately, to the recognition of his schism.

The Emperor's answer, unlike the harangue of the French envoy, was clear and decided. He expressed, delicately, the consciousness which he possessed of his own power, and the importance which he attached to it; at times, indeed, his words sounded almost like threats. Basing his rights upon the old Roman law, Barbarossa claimed that the Imperial power was supreme, and that the sovereignty of the Emperor extended despotically to all the countries immediately bordering upon it. Perhaps even Frederic himself had not yet foreseen whither his ambition might lead him; but he knew, by heart, all the texts of the digest which could be cited in support of his prerogatives.

"We hope," said he, "that the bonds of friendship which already bind your country with the Empire, will be drawn closer. The duty of the heir of Charlemagne is to maintain law and order, to respect the laws of all men, and to assure the peace and tranquillity of Christendom. We do not make war for the sake of glory and renown; we are forced to it by necessity, for we will always direct the powerful arm of the Empire against whoever opposes our supremacy. It is important for us, the defender of the Faith, never to lose sight of this point; and to enforce our rights, we count upon the aid of both France and England. But as this is rather a question within the jurisdiction of a council, we have requested the presence of plenipotentiaries from your respective governments; and the decisions of this illustrious assembly shall be supported and enforced by every means at our command."

Rinaldo, who had listened with great attention to the Emperor's speech, could not conceal his surprise. Each word seemed a reproach whose bitterness he disguised with difficulty under a diplomatic smile; and the closing words produced a similar effect upon the ambassadors. The French envoy looked towards the Englishman as if to ask: What has been advised? – what has been approved? – what has been promised? The Englishman remained calm and unmoved, although the expression of his countenance was that of one who had trodden upon a viper.

"As we have the pleasure of entertaining at our court the illustrious envoys of England and France, we beg them to carry to their noble sovereigns the renewed assurance of our friendship and consideration."

The Emperor rose: the ambassadors made a profound obeisance, and left the hall accompanied by Otho of Wittelsbach, the Counts of Andechs and of Bogen, and their suites.

"My imperial cousin," said Henry the Lion, "knows marvellously well how to sow dissension between France and England."

"You are right," replied Barbarossa; "Louis will never be able to get rid of the English, if he undertakes to protect Alexander; and, on the other hand, the Englishman will lose every foot of soil which he now holds in France, should he presume to oppose the organization of the Imperial Church."

At this juncture, the Chancellor Palatine Ulrich, upon a sign from the Emperor, left the room.

"We have yet an act of justice to perform," said he, "at which we request your presence. A complaint has been made to us of a gross abuse of authority. Those whom we honor with our confidence should be careful not to be guilty of acts which will disgrace it. Therefore, without regard to rank or position, we are determined that vigorous and stern justice shall be meted out to all."

Whilst Barbarossa was speaking, Rechberg entered the room on one side, while on the other appeared Herman, the prefect of Staufenberg. He was followed by Hesso the chief of police, a sufficient evidence that he was the accused party. He approached the throne boldly and with head erect, and threw himself upon his knees, where he remained in the posture of a suppliant.