Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.

The orator paused for a moment; his lips compressed, his nostrils dilated, he seemed to infuse into his hearers, by his looks, the fury with which he was himself animated.

"It is," he resumed in a still higher key, "because he looks upon you as slaves, whose necks are fitted to bear the yoke of his tyranny. Think of what he once said at Pavia: 'Italy is a conquered province, she has lost all her rights; to demand any of her former privileges is an act of rebellion.' Yes, this is what he said openly, the despot! I heard him with my own ears; yes, he dared to say, that you have no longer any rights, that you are nothing but his vassals."

A dull murmur ran through the assembly.

"Thus, brothers, when we appeal to right and justice, we are guilty of rebellion. With such principles, what have we left to hope for? Are you astonished now that an abstract has been made of your lands, of your houses, of your herds, of all your wealth, and that you have been taxed in consequence? Do you not know, brothers, that you no longer possess anything, but that all belongs to the Emperor? Gather in your harvests, the bailiffs come with their satellites and take what they please. Prayers and tears are unavailing. Only enough is left us to barely prolong our own wretched existence, and that of our children; and this is all that is necessary for slaves, who live merely in the interest and for the service of their master."

The murmurs became more threatening, for passion was working in the hearts of all.

"Poor slaves," he continued, "life is only a burden destitute of every joy. For this we have been deprived of our rights to hunt and fish, for this we are not allowed an instant which we can devote to the most innocent amusement. Woe to him who would leave his work to take a moment's rest. Is it right and just that your lives should be consumed in the most painful drudgery, that you should be subjected to every privation, whilst your masters revel in every luxury?"

The orator had attained his object, for he was compelled to pause an instant in order to allow his auditors to give vent to their rage in fierce imprecations against the oppressors of their native country.

"In ancient times the barbarians overran our fair land, but they only passed over her surface; by bending the head to the storm, its fury was soon spent, and the evils could be repaired. Barbarossa, on the contrary, has put about our necks a yoke from which there is no relief. We must build with our own hands the fortresses which threaten us; with our own hands we must construct for these cruel vultures-I mean for the worthy prefects of the Emperor-those nests from which they can swoop down upon us with impunity, to pillage and murder. Will you always submit to slavery? Are you willing to be oppressed until death sets you free? Will you not, at last, rise in your might, and expel the tyrants?"

"Liberty forever! Death to the tyrants! Down with Barbarossa! May he die, he and his infamous satellites!" was heard from all parts of the ruined church.

"Yes! liberty forever," resumed the orator in a calmer tone; "the hour of our deliverance is at hand; profit by it, for it may pass, never to return. At present the Emperor is before Rome. The most solid bulwarks to our liberty are the Church and Alexander, the successor of Saint Peter. If Barbarossa succeeds in overthrowing him, we shall lose forever all hope of shaking off the yoke imposed upon us by the Germans and the Emperor." And the orator descended from his rude platform amid the clamorous applause of his auditory.

The speaker was a nobleman of great respectability, whose patriotism was equalled by his benevolence towards the needy and distressed. He had exaggerated nothing; but, on the contrary, had endeavored to palliate; and this very circumstance had increased the effect of his discourse. The pitiless severity of the prefects was, unfortunately, a positive and general fact, and the harsh sentiments of the Emperor towards unhappy Italy were only too evident. By adroit allusions, the orator had awakened all the memories of his hearers. A great number of them had felt the avidity of Frederic's agents; many had even suffered cruel tortures; and as they related their misfortunes, each imparted to his hearers the hatred by which he was himself convulsed.

Soon the assembly arrived at a paroxysm of fury. On all sides were heard fierce curses and expressions of grief and anger. Their arms shook with menacing sound; their eyes flashed; the audience seemed inspired with indignation.

At last another orator mounted the rostrum, and the noise gradually ceased.

"It is the Milanese Pandolfo," was said in a low tone; for all that came from Milan was received with great respect. Milan had won the martyr's crown.

"I bring the good wishes of my city to all the brothers of the Lombard League," said Pandolfo, with a clear, ringing voice. "You have heard, no doubt, that Milan is no longer a mere heap of ruins; her walls have risen; her fortifications have again appeared, and soon she will stand more proud, more threatening, than in former days. But walls and towers are not enough to defend us against tyranny; what we need above all, what already constitutes our strength, is a powerful organization, and an extension of the Lombard League. Many powerful cities have already joined her; and next to Milan I can cite Brescia and Bergamo, Cremona and Placenza, Parma and Modena, while others are ready to raise the standard of Italian liberty. We no longer hold our meetings in the midst of ruins, or in narrow ravines, but in the open country. Whilst you are still forced to tremble before the minions of tyranny, and escape by stealth, to meet here, we defy Barbarossa's prefects, for we are now powerful, and strength gives us courage. Fear not for the interests of our sacred cause. Neglect nothing to gain over to it your kinsmen, your friends, and your neighbors. Encourage the timid, arouse the cowardly. The victory is ours, and the chains of slavery will be broken from the very moment in which we shall be united."

Until then, Pandolfo had spoken in a calm and measured tone, and he observed with great satisfaction the favorable impression which had been produced by his report on the progress of the league. But soon, to arouse still more the minds of his audience, he began to paint the unhappy condition of Italy, and his language and manner became more passionate.

"Dear brothers," he said; "you have all seen at Milan, of what Frederic is capable, and what is the fate which threatens you. Perhaps you think that your misfortunes have reached their furthest limit, but you are mistaken. You are robbed, you are beaten, the fruit of your toil is torn from you, your horses and your oxen are stolen before your eyes, but as yet they have not carried away your wives and your children. You are treated with harshness, but they have not yet pillaged your churches; they have not profaned and desecrated your sanctuaries."

"Yes they have!" cried a voice, trembling with anger; "yes they have! Our bailiff-may God curse him! – has carried off everything of value which was in our church; he tried to force our old priest to pray for Barbarossa and the high-priest Caiphas (the Antipope Pascal). Our good priest protested, and was shamefully beaten, and we ourselves, for refusing to pray for our oppressors, were driven from the church with blows and curses."

"All this is but a drop in the bucket," resumed Pandolfo. "Do you not know, brothers, that the Church, the Pope and the Clergy, are slaves like ourselves? Is it not right and proper that the Pope and the Clergy teach, pray, and preach in conformity with the Emperor's orders? Since you are Frederic's property," he added with bitter irony, "it is only reasonable that he should watch over your minds and your bodies; of course always in accordance with his own personal interests. You seem astonished! Perhaps you think that I exaggerate? If so, it is because you do not know what an Emperor is, and what ideas he has of his own importance. Are we not told that the ancient Romans worshipped their sovereigns? Go to Rome, you will still see there the statue of the divine Augustus. Aye, the Pagan emperors called themselves gods, and their subjects were compelled to pay them divine honors."

"What infamy! what impiety!" exclaimed the audience.

"Has not Barbarossa already assumed the title of Augustus? As he affects to imitate the Roman emperors in all things, he will finally oblige us to adore him as a divinity."

A derisive laugh interrupted the speaker for a moment.

"You laugh, brothers, you imagine that I am jesting? I speak in sober earnest. The tyrant's pride will not stop short of the abomination of idolatry. You shake your heads; it appears impossible? Let me only ask, did it not seem impossible ten years ago, that you would become slaves; that the time would come when you would no longer have possessions, or rights, or liberty? Is not the Emperor to-day Pope? Is not the pretended Pope the Emperor's humble slave? Does not the Emperor pretend to an authority over the Church which is wellnigh divine? Is it not he who lays down the forms of preaching and prayer? Thanks to him, our bishops have been replaced by the minions of tyranny, and our good shepherds by ravening wolves who tear the flock."

"He is right! all that is only too true; Pandolfo is right!"

"Barbarossa is the Antichrist!"

"He is a child of Satan!"

"A worthy successor of Nero!"

"An infamous tyrant!"

"Curses upon him! may he die unabsolved!"

"Long live our Holy Father the Pope! May God save Alexander!"

"Yes, long live the Pope! may God protect him!" resumed Pandolfo, who was charmed with the enthusiasm which he had excited. "The sovereign Pontiff is the rampart of liberty, the only real defence against Imperial despotism. Why is it that Barbarossa has turned all his rage against Alexander? It is because he knows that he can never accomplish his perfidious ends so long as the Christian world shall retain him whom God himself has appointed to be the guardian of right, and morality, and liberty. The Pope suffers and struggles in our cause; let us unite with him, let us bravely flock to freedom's standard. Raise your right hands, and swear allegiance to the Lombard league."

Instantly a hundred hands were stretched forth in breathless silence. A heavy cloud overshadowed the sun and seemed to threaten the roofless cloister. A violent wind rushed through the dismantled windows and shook the parasitic plants upon the crumbling walls.

"As it is better to die gloriously than live in shameful slavery," cried Pandolfo, whose clear voice rang through the ruined building, "we promise obedience and fidelity to the principles of the Lombard league. We swear to devote our property and our lives to our faith and our country, to the Church, and to liberty. We take God as witness to our loyalty; may He doom us to eternal torments if we violate our oath!"

"We swear it;" and the oath unhesitatingly pronounced by a hundred voices was repeated by the echoes of the surrounding hills. The assembly then broke up, and the conspirators separated; on their features might be read the thoughts which filled their minds, and the noble resolutions to which they had subscribed. Less than a quarter of an hour afterwards the ruins had become once more silent and deserted.

CHAPTER LI.

THE TRIBUNE

Whilst the deputies of the Lombard cities were travelling through the province and working at the organization of the league, Frederic and his army were encamped before the walls of Rome. Informed of the storm which threatened from the North, he would have raised the siege and marched at once against the rebels, but Dassel dissuaded him. It was first necessary, the statesman urged, to expel Alexander from Rome, and place Pascal upon the throne of Saint Peter.

Henry the Lion, the Duke of Austria, and nearly all the princes of note had refused to send their contingents against Rome, and remained quietly in their homes, for they had begun to foresee the designs of the Emperor.

The German and Italian bishops, however, eagerly took part in the siege, and, clothed in armor, prepared to use the sword and lance to overthrow the successor of St. Peter. For the monarch had at last humbled the pride of the prelates, who, for the most part, were his mere tools, whose consciences were fettered with golden shackles. Rich and powerful, their ambition urged them to further the projects of the Emperor, which in abasing the Papacy lessened the power of the temporal princes.

Frederic's army was numerous, brave, and accustomed to victory. A division commanded by the Archbishop of Mayence and Cologne, had already achieved some successes, but Rome still held out, and her fall seemed yet uncertain. Everything presaged a long struggle, much to the dissatisfaction of the Emperor, who had just learned the increasing development of the Lombard league and the advance of William of Naples, who was marching to the assistance of the eternal city.

"Your advice is replete with danger," said Barbarossa to his Chancellor; "the Lombards are rising en masse; they have decapitated or hung my lieutenants, and are working diligently upon the fortifications of Milan, whilst we stand here idle. It is a mistake, an evident mistake."

Rinaldo merely smiled with the air of one who feels certain of success.

"When we can strike at the heart of our enemy it would be folly to try only to wound his foot," said he. "Rome is the heart; Alexander is the life of the confederation. Let Alexander fall, the rest must die of necessity."

"Your arguments are good, but mere argument will not harm a hair of Roland's head."

"Every precaution has been taken against contingencies," continued Dassel, without replying to the Emperor's observation. "The Pisan fleet guards the mouth of the Tiber, our Brabançon troops scour the country; in short, Roland's escape is impossible."

"It is most probable that he will not put your precautions to the test."

"Within three days at the latest, my Emperor and Lord will hear in the Church of St. Peter the solemn mass which I myself will celebrate as a thanksgiving," said Dassel, calmly.

Frederic gazed at him in astonishment.

"My captains watch most diligently," resumed the statesman, "and Roland would need wings to get away again! If I had a hundred more gold pieces to spend, perhaps the worthy Romans would open their gates to us to-morrow. My promises, too, have a good deal of weight: abolition of all taxes, re-establishment of the Senate, privilege of electing the Pope!"

"Ah! you have promised all that?" said Frederic.

"Certainly! but when you are in the city, you can only keep as many promises as it suits you; for, personally, you are pledged to nothing. I assure your Majesty that I have never seen a city which can be so easily deceived as Rome: all that is necessary is to promise. Everything is false among the brave Romans."

"I know and appreciate them as they deserve," replied Frederic. "All that remains of their ancient glory is an overweening pride, which I mean to humble."

"Hark!" cried Dassel, "what is that noise?"

An extraordinary clamor was heard in the direction of the square of St. Peter, where an immense mob shouted and howled in such confusion that it was impossible to understand their meaning.

A marble column stood in the centre of the square, but in place of the image of the Holy Virgin, which it usually supported, it now served as a pedestal for the tailor Guerrazzi, while the sacred statue was laid upon the ground beside it, and a dense crowd pressed forward to listen to the excited orator. The tailor laughed and wept alternately, waved his hands, beat his breast, and tore his hair, while his voice assumed, by turns, an expression of menace or of flattery, as the occasion required. Guerrazzi was a paid agent of the Chancellor, and it was his pockets which received the gold pieces of which the latter had spoken, and which were to be distributed among the conspirators. The Romans were sharing the common lot of all those nations who are mad enough to suppose that schemers have any other object in view than self-interest; they were deceived and sold by the very men whom they considered to be their most devoted champions.

The orator pointed proudly towards a circular tower, which stood in front of him, commanding the square, with which it communicated by a bridge and a wide street. This building, whose lofty walls overlooked the whole city, was the mausoleum of Adrian, afterwards called the castle of Saint Angelo, and at present the Pope's last refuge.

"Look there!" cried the tailor, who was trying to flatter the national pride of his audience by recalling the mighty deeds of their ancestors; "look there at Adrian's mausoleum! there stands a memento of Roman grandeur. How magnificent it still is! I see before me the sons of the Gracchi, of the Scipios, of Brutus, the descendants of the masters of the world. But what are we to-day? We are mere pigmies in comparison with our progenitors. Ah!" said he, weeping, "there was a time when Rome dictated laws to the world, and all nations paid tribute to her majesty. Then our Senate, like a council of gods, sat in the Capitol! – And now? – But who has robbed us of this greatness? Who governs the universe after despoiling the Roman people of its power? – The Pope!" – and the angry tailor paused.

"It is true! – It is true!"

"Well said!"

"What wisdom!"

And the crowd burst out in frantic applause.

"Romans!" continued the orator, "fellow-citizens! the Popes are the successors of that Saint Peter who thrice denied his master; but many of them seem to take as their model the thief, the traitor Judas! – Consequently, all the Popes are great men, but" – (here he paused and pointed to the castle) – "all the Popes are not saints!"

Again the mob applauded, but the wily orator, seeing at once that he trod on dangerous ground, made a skilful diversion.

"No one will dispute the fact that our Holy Father Alexander is one of the greatest of the Popes!" and his voice rang out loudly, as though to prevent all denial. "But although Alexander is a great and holy personage, will he restore to the Romans those privileges of which they have been deprived? No, fellow-citizens, he will not, because he cannot! He swore to hand down the spoils intact upon the day that he assumed the triple crown. But be comforted, fellow-citizens; we have a powerful protector, and that protector is the Emperor! Yes, the Emperor will bring back to Rome her pristine splendor; he will give her once more all that was hers, for he glories in being the defender of right and justice! Again you will have a Senate seated in the Capitol, for the power of priestcraft has had its day. Your ancestors had the right to elect the Pope; this right will again be restored to you. And do you know why Barbarossa refuses to acknowledge Alexander? Solely because he was not elected by the Roman people!"

A murmur of approbation and pleasure ran through the crowd.

"Neither Alexander nor Pascal will sit upon the pontifical throne; you can choose for Pope whom you please. Such is the Emperor's will." The orator was fast gaining his point, for if the Romans no longer possessed the energy of their ancestors, at least they had their pride.

"Rome will again reign supreme; all her liberties, all her privileges will be restored, and she will once more rule the world as before the usurpation of the Popes. The Emperor has promised it, and Barbarossa keeps his word. But, you will ask, what does he require in exchange? Nothing, nothing except to receive from your hands the dignity of Roman patrician, nothing but the privilege of nominating the Pope of your own choice! Will you accept the hand stretched out to you by the noble Emperor, or will you close your gates against the defender of your liberties?"

"Long live the Emperor! Long live Barbarossa!" was shouted on all sides.

"Long live Frederic and the Rome of Augustus!" And the cries of the populace rent the air.

"Rejoice, O Rome! mistress of the world," cried the excited tailor, "thou wilt once more see thy Senate, thy Capitol, the tribunes of thy people!

"Romans," he added, with increasing energy, "to your work without delay, every moment is of value: Elect your tribunes, send them immediately to the Emperor; tell him that you confer on him the title of Roman patrician, and that you wish to choose a Pope who will defend your rights and liberties!"

Guerrazzi descended from the rostrum, and the election of the tribunes began.

CHAPTER LII.

SEDITION

The Pontiff was watching the people from the summit of the castle. He was overwhelmed with sadness; for he had long known the fickleness of the Romans, and the ease with which they could be misled caused grave fears of an early defection from his cause. Still he gave no evidences of discontent or ill humor; his sorrow was only that of a tender father mourning over the errors of a loved, though wayward child.

Near him stood Conrad of Wittelsbach, the deposed Archbishop of Mayence, a prelate of grave and dignified demeanor, whose features indicated firmness and energy. His efforts to bring about a reconciliation between Alexander and Frederic had been fruitless; the angry Emperor looked upon the Pope as the only obstacle to peace, and his renunciation of the pontifical throne was the essential condition on which he insisted.

"Poor misguided people; what a tumult!" said Alexander. "Hark how they cheer for the Emperor! What terrible ingratitude!"

"The Romans in this respect differ in no way from the rest of mankind, most Holy Father. To-day they cry Hosanna! to-morrow, Death! But it seems as though they were coming to see us," added Conrad; "the crowd is pressing in this direction."

In fact the mob, under the leadership of Guerrazzi and other demagogues, was moving towards the castle, and already the shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" were heard uttered with such violence that they even reached the Imperial camp. On the bridge the people stopped and glared at the portcullis with an air of hatred and defiance. Frangipani the governor of Saint Angelo, at once repaired to the presence of the Holy Father, to inquire if he would receive the tribunes of the Roman people.

"The tribunes of the Roman people?" repeated Alexander, with surprise.

"The designation appeared to me as extraordinary as it does to your Holiness," replied the soldier; "but, however it may be, the so-called tribunes of the Roman people desire an audience of your Holiness."

"Alas!" exclaimed the Pope, "their blindness is even greater than I supposed. However, let them come, I will receive them in the council-chamber."

A dense crowd entered the castle and were led by Frangipani to the room which had been designated. The pontifical court had adjourned but a few minutes before, and the cardinals' chairs were still around a long table, at the upper end of which stood the throne of St. Peter. Along the walls were shelves covered with books and parchments, for the archives of the Church had accompanied the Pope in his flight.

As soon as the last tribune had entered, the doors were closed and guarded by the soldiers, whose measured steps along the corridors, joined to the clank of their armor, produced a marked impression upon their excited minds. They looked anxiously around as if in dread, but Guerrazzi, who perceived the general impression, hastened to reassure them.

"Do not be in the least alarmed," he said, "we have nothing to fear. The people surround the Castle, and would not leave one stone upon another, if any violence were offered to us. We possess their confidence, we must show ourselves worthy of our trust. Believe me, since the time of Romulus and Remus, no tribunes have ever been chosen with so much promptness and discrimination as ourselves. Since, in spite of my unworthiness, the people have seen fit to elevate me to the dignity of the tribuneship, I intend, as certain as I can trace my origin directly back to Romulus, to show myself worthy of the honor, and to defend the people's rights with all my energy."

At this moment the Pope, accompanied by Conrad of Mayence, entered the hall by a side-door.

Guerrazzi's colleagues, generally, belonged to the dregs of the people, and modelled their conduct upon his. Still, although the crafty tailor felt persuaded of their devotion to his cause and their own ambitious schemes, he felt that they were overawed by the calm majesty of the Pontiff, before whom they preserved a silence which induced Alexander to suppose, at first, that they had come to solicit his forgiveness for the insurgents.