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Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.

Page 57

by Conrad von Bolanden


  _CHAPTER LV_.

  _THE HAND OF GOD_.

  The plague continued to rage as violently as it had broken out. Deathsmote its victims without forewarning: some fell as they were puttingfoot in stirrup to mount their steeds; others, by the side of thefriend whom they were placing in the grave, which had been dug for himthrough charity.

  "God chastises us for our behavior to the Pope," said the Romans.

  This feeling spread even among the German soldiery. The tents wereemptied of their inhabitants who had fallen victims to the direfulcontagion. In a few days, many thousands had perished, and among themthe Emperor's cousin, the Duke of Suabia, and Diepold of Bohemia; butthe bishops were attacked with marked virulence, and it seemed asthough not one of them was destined to return to his home. There was adead silence everywhere, unbroken even by the clash of arms, and naughtwas heard but the creaking of the death-carts piled up with corpseswhich were thrown together by hundreds into a common pit. But soon itwas no longer possible even to bury them, and the dead bodies layrotting in the sun; adding by their pestilential odors to the malignityof the disease.

  Even the horses were attacked; they fell into a species of stupor whichterminated in death. Still, although his camp was almost depopulated,Barbarossa remained unmoved; he hoped that the plague would wear itselfout, and that he might resume the great work which it had interrupted.As yet the Romans had not sworn allegiance to the Empire, Pascal hadnot been installed as sovereign Pontiff and Frangipani still heldbravely out in the Castle of St. Angelo, The partisans of Alexandermust be entirely destroyed; and to accomplish this Frederic would notyield a step, not even to the plague.

  In this determination he was encouraged by Dassel.

  "If we give up now," he said, "we are lost. All Christendom will lookupon our defeat as a judgment of Heaven. You cannot hereafter undertakeanything which will not appear to be marked with the seal of divinedispleasure."

  Frederic admitted the justice of the policy, and determined to dareeverything. He rode through the streets of the camp, striving toencourage his troops. Erwin was always at his side, although he hadfrequently implored his young kinsman to return to Germany.

  "You must go beyond the Alps," he said. "I wish it; and as soon as thisRoman question is settled, I will join you."

  "But I will not go, my dear godfather, even were the camp peopled withcorpses."

  The Emperor was deeply touched by this mark of affection, and hepressed the young man's hand with emotion.

  One day, Barbarossa returned to his tent, after his usual round ofinspection. The destruction of his army seemed inevitable, if it wasnot soon removed from this pestilential atmosphere, and his indomitablepride was crushed at last.

  He ordered the immediate attendance of his chancellor.

  Rinaldo was writing in his tent; near him sat his favorite pupilHillin, who had been nominated upon his recommendation to the bishopricof Augsburg, and the Chancellor was then dispatching his orders andinstructions to the chapter, for which Hillin was to start at once.

  "You have scarcely as yet the age which is prescribed by the canons,"said Dassel; "but the canons are out of date, like many other things.What an absurdity it is to leave talent unrewarded on the pretext ofyouth! How old are you, Hillin?"

  There was no reply.

  "I ask you your age."

  Still there was the same silence! He turned his head and started backin horror. Hillin was dead, his hand still held the pen, his armsrested on the table, and his head had fallen forward upon theparchment.

  Shaking his head in astonishment, Dassel walked towards the corpse andthen called for his servants. His fear had passed away, for theChancellor was not easily agitated.

  "Hillin is dead," he said; "the young man had fine prospects, and wouldhave been useful; but dead, he is only a nuisance. Take away thiscarcass!"

  At this moment the Emperor sent for him, and Rinaldo, throwing into thefire the now useless letter, dressed himself in his court-robes andrepaired to his master's presence.

  Frederic's face was sad and calm. He replied to his minister's bow witha mute smile, and motioned him to a seat.

  "Chancellor," he said; "we have done all that is possible. But Heavenseems inexorable; the plague rages with renewed fury; two-thirds of myarmy have perished, and if we remain here longer, the remainder willshare their fate."

  "Still we must stay here. Our flight will only aggravate our condition;I have foreseen all this. The plague will cease as unexpectedly as itbegan."

  "But if it really were a chastisement from God?" said Barbarossa.

  Rinaldo sneered viciously: he looked steadily at the Emperor for amoment, and then answered,--

  "We must then suppose that God amuses himself by punishing the Romansevery year; for every year the heat raises these noxious vapors fromthe marshes, and breeds a pestilential fever; it is an unhealthyclimate, that is all that can be said."

  Barbarossa shook his head.

  "Your explanations are not satisfactory," he replied; "this is nofever, it is the plague, and the plague is not the result of merechance, it is the effect of divine wrath! We must humble ourselvesbefore God!"

  "By all means, Sire; and since God opposes our designs, we must giveup, and acknowledge ourselves to be beaten by Alexander!"

  This remark touched the Emperor's pride, and Rinaldo continued hisarguments.

  "I thought," he said, "that it was only the rabble who had these ideasabout God's judgment--"

  A wild shriek closed his speech: the Chancellor was a corpse, andBarbarossa stood gazing upon his confidant, whose features still borethe impress of devilish hate.

  The Germans, however, did not abandon the bodies of their princes. Allwere embalmed and transported from Italy beyond the Alps, to be buriedin the cathedrals of their native land. Two large tents were pitched,beneath which were laid out in state the deceased nobles: the bishopsin full canonicals, with cross and mitre; the knights in completearmor, as if about to go to battle.

  A small escort rode up: in front came the cross, borne by the Bishop ofPavia, and followed by the clergy, and then Rinaldo's body, carried byfour of his own soldiers; Barbarossa, Rechberg, and a few of the noblesclosed the procession. At the entrance, the Bishop of Pavia recited theprayers for the dead, and then the mortal remains of the once powerfulChancellor were deposited with the others. All, save the Emperor andhis kinsman, departed in silence, but Frederic still stood there, sadand dejected, a tear in his eye, gazing upon all that was left on earthof those who had died in his cause. There lay his cousin the Duke ofSuabia; near him Diepold of Bohemia, Count Berenger of Sulzbach.Rodolph of Pfulendorf, Henry of Tubingen, and Ludolf of Dassel, thebishops of Prague, Ratisbon, and Augsburg, of Basle, of Spires, and ofConstance, of Toul and Verdern and Cologne. Who could say whether hetoo would not soon take his place among these lifeless bodies? He beganat last to look with awful fear upon his eternal future, and almostcompletely weaned from earthly vanities, he returned to his ownapartments.

 

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