_CHAPTER XXIX_.
_HUMILIATION_.
The Milanese had not doubted that their proposition would be at onceaccepted. Frederic's refusal consequently was a matter of surprise, anda majority of the most influential citizens felt confident that thepeople would continue an energetic defence, rather than unconditionallycapitulate. They were mistaken. The Milanese refused to hear a wordspoken in favor of further resistance.
When this information was communicated to the monarch, hissatisfaction was unbounded, for he foresaw at once the results of hisvictory;--with Milan fell the last support of Alexander III.
Frederic had driven the unfortunate Pontiff from Rome; and althoughGenoa had offered him an asylum, this city could not hope to be ablelong to serve as a refuge to the fugitive head of the Church; for withthe surrender of Milan, the resistance of the remaining cities ofLombardy became unavailing.
"The chief bulwark of Alexander's faction is levelled, and his defeatprepares a glorious future for you, Sire," said Rinaldo, entering theImperial chamber. "Your wish of itself will suffice to drive Rolandfrom Genoa. And where can he go then? Spain alone can support hissupremacy so long as she is not struggling against the Moors. As toFrance, she cannot recognize this pretended pope, and England mustfollow her example. I see nothing for him but to seek the aid of theSaracens,--a strange alliance for His Holiness."
He was dreaming of the future; Frederic, on the other hand, wasoccupied only with the present. He desired that the formal surrender ofMilan should take place in the style best calculated to strike theimagination. He wanted a tragedy to mark the fall of this queen ofLombardy, and he fixed the 6th of March as the date of the performance.
A platform, sufficiently vast to accommodate, at the same time, theEmperor and all his nobles, was erected outside of the camp. It was anamphitheatre, with fourteen tiers of seats for the nobility, whilst theImperial throne towered above in splendid magnificence, an emblem ofthe supremacy of the sovereign. The platform was hung with scarletcloth, and costly carpets were spread in the immediate vicinity of themonarch's stand, which was richly ornamented with garlands of flowersand decked with the pennons of the different princes. Behind washoisted the Imperial banner.
On the appointed day the troops were drawn up in battle-array upon theplain, and the sunlight danced merrily upon the thousands of helmetsand lances of polished steel. Nearer, the knights, in complete armor,sat motionless upon their chargers, like a wall of iron.
The Milanese advanced despondently and slowly in dense masses. At theirhead walked the consuls, barefooted, with halters around their necks,and clothed in sackcloth. The banners and escutcheons of the severalmunicipalities were borne aloft on long lances. Not a breath of windmoved them, and they hung sadly against their staves, as thoughmourning their city's ruin. The keys of the town were carried on acushion of blue velvet, ready to be offered, by the consuls, to theEmperor. The bugles at times rang out a melancholy wail of despair, andwhen they ceased, there went up a dirge of woe mingled withsupplications for mercy, like those uttered by the people in moments ofnational calamity. It seemed as if Heaven were taking part in thesombre pageant, for dark clouds suddenly veiled the sun, and the airgrew heavy and oppressive. The victors themselves were affected by thesight of this humiliation of their valiant enemies, and only among thetroops of the Italian auxiliaries could be seen a sneer of irony andexultation.
The consuls halted in front of the platform, and a thrill of anxiousexpectation ran from rank to rank, until it reached the gates of Milan,whence the people still continued to issue. Insensibly the crowd stoodstill. The very boldest now were bowed to the earth. On all sidesnothing met the eye but ashes and cords and penitential vestments. Thetrumpets were silent, and the solemn chant, _Kyrie Eleison_! _KyrieEleison_! was heard, as if the citizens would show that they expectedno aid now but from God. From time to time a plaintive groan wasanswered by a thousand sighs of agony: it seemed the dying breath of awhole nation whose funeral knell was sounding.
There was a flourish of trumpets near the Imperial tent; Barbarossa wasabout to appear. The sound grew nearer and more distinct; and then theEmperor, surrounded by his nobles, rode up and dismounted about thirtypaces from the throne. With haughty bearing and a look of pride uponhis face, Frederic moved forward, followed by a splendid array ofknights and princes. Far away in the distance stretched the serriedranks of the army, and the whole scene had that character of majesticgrandeur so well suited to the sovereign who dictated the laws of theworld.
Next to the monarch came the ambassadors of France and Spain andEngland, who, although nominally sent to the Court on business ofState, seemed only there to share in Barbarossa's triumph as spectatorsof his greatness. Frederic mounted the throne, his nobles took seats inthe amphitheatre, and at once a loud shout of glad applause rent theair. The meanest soldier of the army rejoiced, for he felt that thebright rays of the Imperial sun shone even upon him. He saw the Emperorabove all; below him were the brilliant ranks of the nobles, at hisfeet the people of Milan, prostrate and humbled in the dust! The mindof Barbarossa was occupied with considerations of grave importance. Hisface beamed with the intoxication of success, for his soul exulted inhis new honors. He saw all the nations, from Rome to Lubeck, with theirmillions of inhabitants, submissive to his sceptre. He thought ofEngland and Spain, and France and Greece; and though there was much forhim to do ere they could be overcome, the end which he had in viewseemed bright with hope. His dream was to establish the supremacy ofthe Empire over all the thrones of Christendom. He was ambitious to bethe successor of Charlemagne, not merely in name and dignity, but alsoin power. Plunged in his revery, he had forgotten even the contemplateddemolition of rebellious Milan. The consuls had delivered up the keysof the city, already they had sworn their fealty, in the presence offour hundred nobles, when a tumultuous movement of the troopsinterrupted his meditations.
One wing of the army which occupied the open space between theencampment and the fortress, had changed front, and swinging round,opened a passage to the advancing population, which was mingling itsgroans and lamentations with the blasts of martial music and the shoutsof triumph. With halters around their necks and cross in hand, coveredwith sackcloth and penitential vestments, they halted, successively,before the Imperial throne, and as each group laid down before it theirbanners and trumpets, they solemnly swore fealty, and then, slowly andsadly, took their way towards the narrow space reserved for them on theopposite side of the plain.
There was something really majestic in this simple demonstration of theMilanese; and as their bugles sounded their farewell notes, and theirbanners fell upon the ground, one would have imagined that a fractionof the people was breathing its last sigh. Even the conquerors weremoved to pity, and although those nearest to the sovereign prudentlydissembled their emotion, the tears coursed down the bronzed cheeks ofmore than one rude soldier. Barbarossa alone was stern and pitiless,and his remorseless glance, bent upon the vanquished foe, seemed toindicate that he considered the punishment a feeble atonement for theoutrage offered to his Imperial majesty.
The plain was now covered with a dense crowd. An immense chariot, drawnby five white oxen, advanced slowly, bearing the celebrated statue ofSt. Ambrose, Milan's patron saint, and an immense pole from whichfluttered the city's flag and those of all the other towns of theconfederation. The chariot was hung with scarlet cloth, the driverswere dressed in scarlet, and twelve warriors, with casques and corsletsof polished steel, covered with robes of purple, formed an escort ofhonor.
This chariot, which had been built by the Archbishop Ariberti, playedan important part in times of war, and was looked upon almost as the_Palladium_ of the City of Milan.
During battle its banner towered above the combatants, and served as arallying-point; and it was the duty of the citizens to defend it to thedeath,--it was the symbol, the soul of the free City, the glory andhonor of Milan.
It halted in front of the t
hrone, and the guards descended. Adeath-like silence reigned, and glances of tearful anger were turnedtowards Barbarossa. Suddenly an ominous crash was heard, the flag-staffhad broken, and its fall upset the car. The image of St. Ambrose, theflags and banners, had rolled in the dust; and the deep bell of thedistant cathedral tolled out mournfully, as these symbols, once sobrilliant, lay stretched upon the ground, in striking analogy to thefate which awaited Milan.
The people broke oat in groans of rage; some tore their hair in verydesperation, while others, yielding to the weight of their emotion,were silent and bit their lips with grief and mortification. Still theEmperor remained unmoved, although there were tears on the energeticface of Henry the Lion, and his features told of his deep sympathy withthe humiliation of the illustrious city.
The Count of Biandrate, formerly an ally of the Milanese, but now astanch partisan of the Emperor, advanced, and kneeling before thesovereign, craved his mercy.
"I implore your Majesty," he said, "to have pity upon this people,which, humbled in the dust, prays for your forgiveness. All thegreatness, all the power of the proud city is at your feet. Do notregard them as criminals; look upon them as your children who knew nothow to discriminate between good and evil; grant them their lives, andlet compassion moderate your justice!"
"Experience has already taught us the sad results of too muchclemency," answered Barbarossa. "Milan has despised and rejected ourfavors, and has always remained the centre of all the seditions, thedirectress of all the plots against the Empire and its sovereign."
"Nevertheless, I still supplicate your Majesty," continued the Count,seeing that the Emperor's hesitation displeased the nobles, "not tobreak the bruised reed. Would the fame of your Highness, or of theGerman nation be increased, if, upon a sign from you, this mighty city,this assemblage of warriors, became the object of a chastisementunequalled in the annals of Christendom?"
The nobles audibly gave signs of approbation, and Frederic was unableto resist. Too much violence might produce unpleasant consequences; heunderstood the position and moderated his sentence.
"I will treat them with all the forbearance which is compatible withjustice," he said. "All have merited death; we will grant their livesto all!"
"God be praised!" exclaimed the nobles.
But the Italians murmured. They wished nothing less than thedestruction of the city; and several of the consuls of the allied townsstepped forward, and expressed their views with a violence andanimosity which, inwardly, pleased the Emperor.
"Sire," said the Pavian consul, "Milan destroyed Como and Lodi, it isbut justice that she should share their fate."
"Recollect, Sire," added the consul of Vercelli, "that you owe supportto those who always remained faithful to your cause. So long as Milanexists, neither peace nor order is possible. You have conquered theshe-wolf; your trusty sword has forced her to grovel in the dust; butthat is not enough; she must be destroyed! A few years hence, andMilan, always thirsting for her neighbors' blood, will again extend hertyranny over all Lombardy. We ask for simple justice. Sire, give usjustice!"
"You have every right to demand our protection," replied Frederic, "andyou shall have it. We will never permit our faithful subjects to beoppressed. Milan shall be deserted, and within fifteen days all itsinhabitants must leave the city, and be divided into four detachmentsseparated from each other by a distance of at least two miles."
The monarch arose and gave the signal that the ceremony wasfinished.--He mounted his charger, and, surrounded by his nobles,trampling under their horses' hoofs the banners which were spread outupon the ground,--returned to his camp amid the loud strains of martialmusic, while the Milanese wept sadly over the destruction of their muchloved city.
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