CHAPTER XIVTHE DOUBLE-HEADED EAGLE
ONE summer evening, when shooting at a bird on a pole was in fullexercise in the tilt-yard, the sports were interrupted by a message fromthe Provost that a harbinger had brought tidings that the Imperial courtwas within a day’s journey.
All was preparation. Fresh sand had to be strewn on the arena. Newtapestry hangings were to deck the galleries, the houses and balconies tobe brave with drapery, the fountain in the market-place was to play Rhinewine, all Ulm was astir to do honour to itself and to the Kaisar, andEbbo stood amid all the bustle, drawing lines in the sand with the stockof his arblast, subject to all that oppressive self-magnification sofrequent in early youth, and which made it seem to him as if the Kaisarand the King of the Romans were coming to Ulm with the mere purpose ofdestroying his independence, and as if the eyes of all Germany werewatching for his humiliation.
“See! see!” suddenly exclaimed Friedel; “look! there is something amongthe tracery of the Dome Kirk Tower. Is it man or bird?”
“Bird, folly! Thou couldst see no bird less than an eagle from hence,”said Ebbo. “No doubt they are about to hoist a banner.”
“That is not their wont,” returned Sir Kasimir.
“I see him,” interrupted Ebbo. “Nay, but he is a bold climber! We wentup to that stage, close to the balcony, but there’s no footing beyond butcrockets and canopies.”
“And a bit of rotten scaffold,” added Friedel. “Perhaps he is a buildergoing to examine it! Up higher, higher!”
“A builder!” said Ebbo; “a man with a head and foot like that should be achamois hunter! Shouldst thou deem it worse than the Red Eyrie,Friedel?”
“Yea, truly! The depth beneath is plainer! There would be no climbingthere without—”
“Without what, cousin?” asked Wildschloss.
“Without great cause,” said Friedel. “It is fearful! He is like a flyagainst the sky.”
“Beaten again!” muttered Ebbo; “I did think that none of these town-bredfellows could surpass us when it came to a giddy height! Who can he be?”
“Look! look!” burst out Friedel. “The saints protect him! He is on thatnarrowest topmost ledge—measuring; his heel is over the parapet—half hisfoot!”
“Holding on by the rotten scaffold pole! St. Barbara be his speed; buthe is a brave man!” shouted Ebbo. “Oh! the pole has broken.”
“Heaven forefend!” cried Wildschloss, with despair on his face unseen bythe boys, for Friedel had hidden his eyes, and Ebbo was straining hiswith the intense gaze of horror. He had carried his glance downwards,following the 380 feet fall that must be the lot of the adventurer. Thenlooking up again he shouted, “I see him! I see him! Praise to St.Barbara! He is safe! He has caught by the upright stone work.”
“Where? where? Show me!” cried Wildschloss, grasping Ebbo’s arm.
“There! clinging to that upright bit of tracery, stretching his foot outto yonder crocket.”
“I cannot see. Mine eyes swim and dazzle,” said Wildschloss. “Mercifulheavens! is this another tempting of Providence? How is it with him now,Ebbo?”
“Swarming down another slender bit of the stone network. It must be easynow to one who could keep head and hand steady in such a shock.”
“There!” added Friedel, after a breathless space, “he is on the lowerparapet, whence begins the stair. Do you know him, sir? Who is he?”
“Either a Venetian mountebank,” said Wildschloss, “or else there is onlyone man I know of either so foolhardy or so steady of head.”
“Be he who he may,” said Ebbo, “he is the bravest man that ever I beheld.Who is he, Sir Kasimir?”
“An eagle of higher flight than ours, no doubt,” said Wildschloss. “Butcome; we shall reach the Dome Kirk by the time the climber has wound hisway down the turret stairs, and we shall see what like he is.”
Their coming was well timed, for a small door at the foot of the towerwas just opening to give exit to a very tall knight, in one of thoseshort Spanish cloaks the collar of which could be raised so as to concealthe face. He looked to the right and left, and had one hand raised toput up the collar when he recognized Sir Kasimir, and, holding out bothhands, exclaimed, “Ha, Adlerstein! well met! I looked to see thee here.No unbonneting; I am not come yet. I am at Strasburg, with the Kaisarand the Archduke, and am not here till we ride in, in purple and in pallby the time the good folk have hung out their arras, and donned theirgold chains, and conned their speeches, and mounted their mules.”
“Well that their speeches are not over the lykewake of his kinglykaisarly highness,” gravely returned Sir Kasimir.
“Ha! Thou sawest? I came out here to avoid the gaping throng, who don’tknow what a hunter can do. I have been in worse case in the Tyrol.Snowdrifts are worse footing than stone vine leaves.”
“Where abides your highness?” asked Wildschloss.
“I ride back again to the halting-place for the night, and meet my fatherin time to do my part in the pageant. I was sick of the addresses, and,moreover, the purse-proud Flemings have made such a stiff little fop ofmy poor boy that I am ashamed to look at him, or hear his French accent.So I rode off to get a view of this notable Dom in peace, ere it bebedizened in holiday garb; and one can’t stir without all the Chapterwaddling after one.”
“Your highness has found means of distancing them.”
“Why, truly, the Prior would scarce delight in the view from yonderparapet,” laughed his highness. “Ha! Adlerstein, where didst get such aperfect pair of pages? I would I could match my hounds as well.”
“They are no pages of mine, so please you,” said the knight; “rather thisis the head of my name. Let me present to your kingly highness theFreiherr von Adlerstein.”
“Thou dost not thyself distinguish between them!” said Maximilian, asFriedmund stepped back, putting forward Eberhard, whose bright, livelysmile of interest and admiration had been the cause of his cousin’smistake. They would have doffed their caps and bent the knee, but werehastily checked by Maximilian. “No, no, Junkern, I shall owe you nothanks for bringing all the street on me!—that’s enough. Reserve therest for Kaisar Fritz.” Then, familiarly taking Sir Kasimir’s arm, hewalked on, saying, “I remember now. Thou wentest after an inheritancefrom the old Mouser of the Debateable Ford, and wert ousted by a coupleof lusty boys sprung of a peasant wedlock.”
“Nay, my lord, of a burgher lady, fair as she is wise and virtuous; who,spite of all hindrances, has bred up these youths in all good and noblenurture.”
“Is this so?” said the king, turning sharp round on the twins. “Are yeminded to quit freebooting, and come a crusading against the Turks withme?”
“Everywhere with such a leader!” enthusiastically exclaimed Ebbo.
“What? up there?” said Maximilian, smiling. “Thou hast the tread of achamois-hunter.”
“Friedel has been on the Red Eyrie,” exclaimed Ebbo; then, thinking hehad spoken foolishly, he coloured.
“Which is the Red Eyrie?” good-humouredly asked the king.
“It is the crag above our castle,” said Friedel, modestly.
“None other has been there,” added Ebbo, perceiving his auditor’sinterest; “but he saw the eagle flying away with a poor widow’s kid, andthe sight must have given him wings, for we never could find the samepath; but here is one of the feathers he brought down”—taking off his capso as to show a feather rather the worse for wear, and sheltered behind afresher one.
“Nay,” said Friedel, “thou shouldst say that I came to a ledge where Ihad like to have stayed all night, but that ye all came out with men andropes.”
“We know what such a case is!” said the king. “It has chanced to us tohang between heaven and earth; I’ve even had the Holy Sacrament held upfor my last pious gaze by those who gave me up for lost on themountain-side. Adlerstein? The peak above the Braunwasser? Some dayshall ye show me this eyrie of yours, and we will see whether we canamaze our
cousins the eagles. We see you at our father’s courtto-morrow?” he graciously added, and Ebbo gave a ready bow ofacquiescence.
“There,” said the king, as after their dismissal he walked on with SirKasimir, “never blame me for rashness and imprudence. Here has thisheight of the steeple proved the height of policy. It has made a loyalsubject of a Mouser on the spot.”
“Pray Heaven it may have won a heart, true though proud!” saidWildschloss; “but mousing was cured before by the wise training of themother. Your highness will have taken out the sting of submission, andyou will scarce find more faithful subjects.”
“How old are the Junkern?”
“Some sixteen years, your highness.”
“That is what living among mountains does for a lad. Why could not thosethrice-accursed Flemish towns let me breed up my boy to be good forsomething in the mountains, instead of getting duck-footed andmuddy-witted in the fens?”
In the meantime Ebbo and Friedel were returning home in that sort ofpassion of enthusiasm that ingenuous boyhood feels when first broughtinto contact with greatness or brilliant qualities.
And brilliance was the striking point in Maximilian. The Last of theKnights, in spite of his many defects, was, by personal qualities, andthe hereditary influence of long-descended rank, verily a king of men inaspect and demeanour, even when most careless and simple. He was at thistime a year or two past thirty, unusually tall, and with a form at oncemajestic and full of vigour and activity; a noble, fair, though sunburntcountenance; eyes of dark gray, almost black; long fair hair, a keenaquiline nose, a lip only beginning to lengthen to the characteristicAustrian feature, an expression always lofty, sometimes dreamy, and yetat the same time full of acuteness and humour. His abilities were of thehighest order, his purposes, especially at this period of his life, mostnoble and becoming in the first prince of Christendom; and, if his lifewere a failure, and his reputation unworthy of his endowments, the causeseems to have been in great measure the bewilderment and confusion thatunusual gifts sometimes cause to their possessor, whose sight theirconflicting illumination dazzles so as to impair his steadiness of aim,while their contending gleams light him into various directions, so thatone object is deserted for another ere its completion. Thus Maximiliancuts a figure in history far inferior to that made by his grandson,Charles V., whom he nevertheless excelled in every personal quality,except the most needful of all, force of character; and, in like manner,his remote descendant, the narrow-minded Ferdinand of Styria, gained hisends, though the able and brilliant Joseph II. was to die broken-hearted,calling his reign a failure and mistake. However, such terms as thesecould not be applied to Maximilian with regard to home affairs. He hashad hard measure from those who have only regarded his vacillatingforeign policy, especially with respect to Italy—ever the temptation andthe bane of Austria; but even here much of his uncertain conduct wasowing to the unfulfilled promises of what he himself called his “realm ofkings,” and a sovereign can only justly be estimated by his domesticpolicy. The contrast of the empire before his time with the subsequentGermany is that of chaos with order. Since the death of Friedrich II.the Imperial title had been a mockery, making the prince who chanced tobear it a mere mark for the spite of his rivals; there was no centre ofjustice, no appeal; everybody might make war on everybody, with the solepreliminary of exchanging a challenge; “fist-right” was the acknowledgedlaw of the land; and, except in the free cities, and under such a happyaccident as a right-minded prince here and there, the state of Germanyseems to have been rather worse than that of Scotland from Bruce to theunion of the Crowns. Under Maximilian, the Diet became an effectivecouncil, fist-right was abolished, independent robber-lords put down,civilization began to effect an entrance, the system of circles wasarranged, and the empire again became a leading power in Europe, insteadof a mere vortex of disorder and misrule. Never would Charles V. haveheld the position he occupied had he come after an ordinary man, insteadof after an able and sagacious reformer like that Maximilian who ispopularly regarded as a fantastic caricature of a knight-errant, marredby avarice and weakness of purpose.
At the juncture of which we are writing, none of Maximilian’s less worthyqualities had appeared; he had not been rendered shifty and unscrupulousby difficulties and disappointments in money matters, and had not foundit impossible to keep many of the promises he had given in all goodfaith. He stood forth as the hope of Germany, in salient contrast to thefeeble and avaricious father, who was felt to be the only obstacle in theway of his noble designs of establishing peace and good discipline in theempire, and conducting a general crusade against the Turks, whoseprogress was the most threatening peril of Christendom. His fame was, ofcourse, frequently discussed among the citizens, with whom he was verypopular, not only from his ease and freedom of manner, but because hisgraceful tastes, his love of painting, sculpture, architecture, and themechanical turn which made him an improver of fire-arms and a patron ofpainting and engraving, rendered their society more agreeable to him thanthat of his dull, barbarous nobility. Ebbo had heard so much of theperfections of the King of the Romans as to be prepared to hate him; butthe boy, as we have seen, was of a generous, sensitive nature, peculiarlyprone to enthusiastic impressions of veneration; and Maximilian’shigh-spirited manhood, personal fascination, and individual kindness hadso entirely taken him by surprise, that he talked of him all the eveningin a more fervid manner than did even Friedel, though both could scarcelyrest for their anticipations of seeing him on the morrow in the fullstate of his entry.
Richly clad, and mounted on cream-coloured steeds, nearly as much alikeas themselves, the twins were a pleasant sight for a proud mother’s eyes,as they rode out to take their place in the procession that was towelcome the royal guests. Master Sorel, in ample gown, richly furred,with medal and chain of office, likewise went forth as Guildmaster; andChristina, with smiling lips and liquid eyes, recollected the days whento see him in such array was her keenest pleasure, and the utmostsplendour her fancy could depict.
Arrayed, as her sons loved to see her, in black velvet, and withpearl-bordered cap, Christina sat by her aunt in the tapestried balcony,and between them stood or sat little Thekla von Adlerstein Wildschloss,whose father had entrusted her to their care, to see the procession passby. A rich Eastern carpet, of gorgeous colouring, covered the upperbalustrade, over which they leant, in somewhat close quarters with thescarlet-bodiced dames of the opposite house, but with ample space forsight up and down the rows of smiling expectants at each balcony, orwindow, equally gay with hangings, while the bells of all the churchesclashed forth their gayest chimes, and fitful bursts of music were borneupon the breeze. Little Thekla danced in the narrow space for very glee,and wondered why any one should live in a cloister when the world was sowide and so fair. And Dame Johanna tried to say something pious ofworldly temptations, and the cloister shelter; but Thekla interruptedher, and, clinging to Christina, exclaimed, “Nay, but I am always naughtywith Mother Ludmilla in the convent, and I know I should never be naughtyout here with you and the barons; I should be so happy.”
“Hush! hush! little one; here they come!”
On they came—stout lanzknechts first, the city guard with steel helmetsunadorned, buff suits, and bearing either harquebuses, halberts, or thosehandsome but terrible weapons, morning stars. Then followed guild afterguild, each preceded by the banner bearing its homely emblem—the cauldronof the smiths, the hose of the clothiers, the helmet of the armourers,the bason of the barbers, the boot of the sutors; even the sausage of thecooks, and the shoe of the shoeblacks, were re-presented, as by men whogloried in the calling in which they did life’s duty and task.
First in each of these bands marched the prentices, stout, broad,flat-faced lads, from twenty to fourteen years of age, with hair like towhanging from under their blue caps, staves in their hands, and knives attheir girdles. Behind them came the journeymen, in leathern jerkins andsteel caps, and armed with halberts or cross-bows; men of all ages, froms
ixty to one or two and twenty, and many of the younger ones with foreigncountenances and garb betokening that they were strangers spending partof their wandering years in studying the Ulm fashions of their craft.Each trade showed a large array of these juniors; but the masters whocame behind were comparatively few, mostly elderly, long-gowned,gold-chained personages, with a weight of solid dignity on their wisebrows—men who respected themselves, made others respect them, and kepttheir city a peaceful, well-ordered haven, while storms raged in therealm beyond—men too who had raised to the glory of their God a temple,not indeed fulfilling the original design, but a noble effort, and grandmonument of burgher devotion.
Then came the ragged regiment of scholars, wild lads from every part ofGermany and Switzerland, some wan and pinched with hardship andprivation, others sturdy, selfish rogues, evidently well able to takecare of themselves. There were many rude, tyrannical-looking lads amongthe older lads; and, though here and there a studious, earnest face mightbe remarked, the prospect of Germany’s future priests and teachers wasnot encouraging. And what a searching ordeal was awaiting those carelesslads when the voice of one, as yet still a student, should ring throughGermany!
Contrasting with these ill-kempt pupils marched the grave professors andteachers, in square ecclesiastic caps and long gowns, whose coloursmarked their degrees and the Universities that had conferred them—somethin, some portly, some jocund, others dreamy; some observing all thehumours around, others still intent on Aristotelian ethics; all men ofhigh fame, with doctor at the beginning of their names, and “or” or “us”at the close of them. After them rode the magistracy, a burgomaster fromeach guild, and the Herr Provost himself—as great a potentate within hisown walls as the Doge of Venice or of Genoa, or perhaps greater, becauseless jealously hampered. In this dignified group was Uncle Gottfried, bycomplacent nod and smile acknowledging his good wife and niece, whoindeed had received many a previous glance and bow from friends passingbeneath. But Master Sorel was no new spectacle in a civic procession,and the sight of him was only a pleasant fillip to the excitement of hisladies.
Here was jingling of spurs and trampling of horses; heraldic achievementsshowed upon the banners, round which rode the mail-clad retainers ofcountry nobles who had mustered to meet their lords. Then, with stillmore of clank and tramp, rode a bright-faced troop of lads, withfeathered caps and gay mantles. Young Count Rudiger looked up withcourteous salutation; and just behind him, with smiling lips and upraisedfaces, were the pair whose dark eyes, dark hair, and slender formsrendered them conspicuous among the fair Teutonic youth. Each cap wastaken off and waved, and each pair of lustrous eyes glanced up pleasureand exultation at the sight of the lovely “Mutterlein.” And she? Thepageant was well-nigh over to her, save for heartily agreeing with AuntJohanna that there was not a young noble of them all to compare with thetwin Barons of Adlerstein! However, she knew she should be called toaccount if she did not look well at “the Romish King;” besides, Theklawas shrieking with delight at the sight of her father, tall and splendidon his mighty black charger, with a smile for his child, and for the ladya bow so low and deferential that it was evidently remarked by those atwhose approach every lady in the balconies was rising, every head in thestreet was bared.
A tall, thin, shrivelled, but exceedingly stately old man on a gray horsewas in the centre. Clad in a purple velvet mantle, and bowing as hewent, he looked truly the Kaisar, to whom stately courtesy was secondnature. On one side, in black and gold, with the jewel of the GoldenFleece on his breast, rode Maximilian, responding gracefully to thesalutations of the people, but his keen gray eye roving in search of theobject of Sir Kasimir’s salute, and lighting on Christina with such arapid, amused glance of discovery that, in her confusion, she missed whatexcited Dame Johanna’s rapturous admiration—the handsome boy on theEmperor’s other side, a fair, plump lad, the young sovereign of the LowCountries, beautiful in feature and complexion, but lacking the fire andthe loftiness that characterized his father’s countenance. The train wasclosed by the Reitern of the Emperor’s guard—steel-clad mercenaries whowere looked on with no friendly eyes by the few gazers in the street whohad been left behind in the general rush to keep up with the attractivepart of the show.
Pageants of elaborate mythological character impeded the imperialprogress at every stage, and it was full two hours ere the two youthsreturned, heartily weary of the lengthened ceremonial, and laughing athaving actually seen the King of the Romans enduring to be conducted fromshrine to shrine in the cathedral by a large proportion of itsdignitaries. Ebbo was sure he had caught an archly disconsolate wink!
Ebbo had to dress for the banquet spread in the town-hall. Space waswanting for the concourse of guests, and Master Sorel had decided thatthe younger Baron should not be included in the invitation. Friedelpardoned him more easily than did Ebbo, who not only resented any slightto his double, but in his fits of shy pride needed the aid of his readierand brighter other self. But it might not be, and Sir Kasimir and MasterGottfried alone accompanied him, hoping that he would not look as wild asa hawk, and would do nothing to diminish the favourable impression he hadmade on the King of the Romans.
Late, according to mediæval hours, was the return, and Ebbo spoke in atone of elation. “The Kaisar was most gracious, and the king knew me,”he said, “and asked for thee, Friedel, saying one of us was noughtwithout the other. But thou wilt go to-morrow, for we are to receiveknighthood.”
“Already!” exclaimed Friedel, a bright glow rushing to his cheek.
“Yea,” said Ebbo. “The Romish king said somewhat about waiting to winour spurs; but the Kaisar said I was in a position to take rank as aknight, and I thanked him, so thou shouldst share the honour.”
“The Kaisar,” said Wildschloss, “is not the man to let a knight’s feeslip between his fingers. The king would have kept off their grip, andreserved you for knighthood from his own sword under the banner of theempire; but there is no help for it now, and you must make your vassalssend in their dues.”
“My vassals?” said Ebbo; “what could they send?”
“The aid customary on the knighthood of the heir.”
“But there is—there is nothing!” said Friedel. “They can scarce pay mealand poultry enough for our daily fare; and if we were to flay them alive,we should not get sixty groschen from the whole.”
“True enough! Knighthood must wait till we win it,” said Ebbo, gloomily.
“Nay, it is accepted,” said Wildschloss. “The Kaisar loves his ironchest too well to let you go back. You must be ready with your round sumto the chancellor, and your spur-money and your fee to the heralds, andlargess to the crowd.”
“Mother, the dowry,” said Ebbo.
“At your service, my son,” said Christina, anxious to chase the cloudfrom his brow.
But it was a deep haul, for the avaricious Friedrich IV. made exorbitantcharges for the knighting his young nobles; and Ebbo soon saw that theimprovements at home must suffer for the honours that would have been somuch better won than bought.
“If your vassals cannot aid, yet may not your kinsman—?” beganWildschloss.
“No!” interrupted Ebbo, lashed up to hot indignation. “No, sir! Ratherwill my mother, brother, and I ride back this very night to unfetteredliberty on our mountain, without obligation to any living man.”
“Less hotly, Sir Baron,” said Master Gottfried, gravely. “You broke inon your noble godfather, and you had not heard me speak. You and yourbrother are the old man’s only heirs, nor do ye incur any obligation thatneed fret you by forestalling what would be your just right. I will seemy nephews as well equipped as any young baron of them.”
The mother looked anxiously at Ebbo. He bent his head with risingcolour, and said, “Thanks, kind uncle. From _you_ I have learnt to lookon goodness as fatherly.”
“Only,” added Friedel, “if the Baron’s station renders knighthood fittingfor him, surely I might remain his esquire.”
“
Never, Friedel!” cried his brother. “Without thee, nothing.”
“Well said, Freiherr,” said Master Sorel; “what becomes the one becomesthe other. I would not have thee left out, my Friedel, since I cannotleave thee the mysteries of my craft.”
“To-morrow!” said Friedel, gravely. “Then must the vigil be keptto-night.”
“The boy thinks these are the days of Roland and Karl the Great,” saidWildschloss. “He would fain watch his arms in the moonlight in the DomeKirk! Alas! no, my Friedel! Knighthood in these days smacks more ofbezants than of deeds of prowess.”
“Unbearable fellow!” cried Ebbo, when he had latched the door of the roomhe shared with his brother. “First, holding up my inexperience to scorn!As though the Kaisar knew not better than he what befits me! Then tryingto buy my silence and my mother’s gratitude with his hateful advance ofgold. As if I did not loathe him enough without! If I pay my homage,and sign the League to-morrow, it will be purely that he may not plumehimself on our holding our own by sufferance, in deference to him.”
“You will sign it—you will do homage!” exclaimed Friedel. “How rejoicedthe mother will be.”
“I had rather depend at once—if depend I must—on yonder dignified Kaisarand that noble king than on our meddling kinsman,” said Ebbo. “I shallbe his equal now! Ay, and no more classed with the court Junkern I waswith to-day. The dullards! No one reasonable thing know they but thechase. One had been at Florence; and when I asked him of the Baptisteryand rare Giotto of whom my uncle told us, he asked if he were a knight ofthe Medici. All he knew was that there were ortolans at Ser Lorenzo’stable; and he and the rest of them talked over wines as many and as hardto call as the roll of Æneas’s comrades; and when each one must drink toher he loved best, and I said I loved none like my sweet mother, theygibed me for a simple dutiful mountaineer. Yea, and when the servantsbrought a bowl, I thought it was a wholesome draught of spring waterafter all their hot wines and fripperies. Pah!”
“The rose-water, Ebbo! No wonder they laughed! Why, the bowls for ourfingers came round at the banquet here.”
“Ah! thou hast eyes for their finikin manners! Yet what know they ofwhat we used to long for in polished life! Not one but vowed he abhorredbooks, and cursed Dr. Faustus for multiplying them. I may not know thetaste of a stew, nor the fit of a glove, as they do, but I trust I bear aless empty brain. And the young Netherlanders that came with theArchduke were worst of all. They got together and gabbled French, andtreated the German Junkern with the very same sauce with which they hadserved me. The Archduke laughed with them, and when the Provostaddressed him, made as if he understood not, till his father heard, andthundered out, ‘How now, Philip! Deaf on thy German ear? I tell thee,Herr Probst, he knows his own tongue as well as thou or I, and thou shalthear him speak as becomes the son of an Austrian hunter.’ That Romishking is a knight of knights, Friedel. I could follow him to the world’send. I wonder whether he will ever come to climb the Red Eyrie.”
“It does not seem the world’s end when one is there,” said Friedel, withstrange yearnings in his breast.
“Even the Dom steeple never rose to its full height,” he added, standingin the window, and gazing pensively into the summer sky. “Oh, Ebbo! thisknighthood has come very suddenly after our many dreams; and, even thoughits outward tokens be lowered, it is still a holy, awful thing.”
Nurtured in mountain solitude, on romance transmitted through the puremedium of his mother’s mind, and his spirit untainted by contact with theworld, Friedmund von Adlerstein looked on chivalry with the temper of aPercival or Galahad, and regarded it with a sacred awe. Eberhard, thoughtreating it more as a matter of business, was like enough to his brotherto enter into the force of the vows they were about to make; and if theyoung Barons of Adlerstein did not perform the night-watch over theirarmour, yet they kept a vigil that impressed their own minds as deeply,and in early morn they went to confession and mass ere the gay parts ofthe city were astir.
“Sweet niece,” said Master Sorel, as he saw the brothers’ grave, earnestlooks, “thou hast done well by these youths; yet I doubt me at timeswhether they be not too much lifted out of this veritable world of ours.”
“Ah, fair uncle, were they not above it, how could they face itstemptations?”
“True, my child; but how will it be when they find how lightly otherstreat what to them is so solemn?”
“There must be temptations for them, above all for Ebbo,” said Christina,“but still, when I remember how my heart sank when their grandmothertried to bring them up to love crime as sport and glory, I cannot buttrust that the good work will be wrought out, and my dream fulfilled,that they may be lights on earth and stars in heaven. Even this matterof homage, that seemed so hard to my Ebbo, has now been made easy to himby his veneration for the Emperor.”
It was even so. If the sense that he was the last veritable _free_ lordof Adlerstein rushed over Ebbo, he was, on the other hand, overmasteredby the kingliness of Friedrich and Maximilian, and was aware that thissubmission, while depriving him of little or no actual power, brought himinto relations with the civilized world, and opened to him paths of truehonour. So the ceremonies were gone through, his oath of allegiance wasmade, investiture was granted to him by the delivery of a sword, and bothhe and Friedel were dubbed knights. Then they shared another banquet,where, as away from the Junkern and among elder men, Ebbo was happierthan the day before. Some of the knights seemed to him as rude andignorant as the Schneiderlein, but no one talked to him nor observed hismanners, and he could listen to conversation on war and policy such asinterested him far more than the subjects affected by youths a littleolder than himself. Their lonely life and training had rendered theminds of the brothers as much in advance of their fellows as they werebehind them in knowledge of the world.
The crass obtuseness of most of the nobility made it a relief to returnto the usual habits of the Sorel household when the court had left Ulm.Friedmund, anxious to prove that his new honours were not to alter hishome demeanour, was drawing on a block of wood from a tinted pen-and-inksketch; Ebbo was deeply engaged with a newly-acquired copy of Virgil; andtheir mother was embroidering some draperies for the long-neglectedcastle chapel,—all sitting, as Master Gottfried loved to have them, inhis studio, whence he had a few moments before been called away, when, asthe door slowly opened, a voice was heard that made both lads start andrise.
“Yea, truly, Herr Guildmaster, I would see these masterpieces. Ha! Whathave you here for masterpieces? Our two new double-ganger knights?” AndMaximilian entered in a simple riding-dress, attended by MasterGottfried, and by Sir Kasimir of Adlerstein Wildschloss.
Christina would fain have slipped out unperceived, but the king wasalready removing his cap from his fair curling locks, and bending hishead as he said, “The Frau Freiherrinn von Adlerstein? Fair lady, Igreet you well, and thank you in the Kaisar’s name and mine for havingbred up for us two true and loyal subjects.”
“May they so prove themselves, my liege!” said Christina, bending low.
“And not only loyal-hearted,” added Maximilian, smiling, “butready-brained, which is less frequent among our youth. What is thy book,young knight? Virgilius Maro? Dost thou read the Latin?” he added, inthat tongue.
“Not as well as we wish, your kingly highness,” readily answered Ebbo, inLatin, “having learnt solely of our mother till we came hither.”
“Never fear for that, my young blade,” laughed the king. “Knowst notthat the wiseacres thought me too dull for teaching till I was past tenyears? And what is thy double about? Drawing on wood? How now! Anable draughtsman, my young knight?”
“My nephew Sir Friedmund is good to the old man,” said Gottfried, himselfalmost regretting the lad’s avocation. “My eyes are failing me, and heis aiding me with the graving of this border. He has the knack that noteaching will impart to any of my present journeymen.”
“Born, not made,” quoth Maximili
an. “Nay,” as Friedel coloured deeper atthe sense that Ebbo was ashamed of him, “no blushes, my boy; it is a raregift. I can make a hundred knights any day, but the Almighty alone canmake a genius. It was this very matter of graving that led me hither.”
For Maximilian had a passion for composition, and chiefly forautobiography, and his head was full of that curious performance, _DerWeisse König_, which occupied many of the leisure moments of his life,being dictated to his former writing-master, Marcus Sauerwein. He hadalready designed the portrayal of his father as the old white king, andhimself as the young white king, in a series of woodcuts illustrating thenarrative which culminated in the one romance of his life, his briefhappy marriage with Mary of Burgundy; and he continued eagerly to talk toMaster Gottfried about the mystery of graving, and the various scenes inwhich he wished to depict himself learning languages from nativespeakers—Czech from a peasant with a basket of eggs, English from theexiles at the Burgundian court, who had also taught him the use of thelongbow, building from architects and masons, painting from artists, and,more imaginatively, astrology from a wonderful flaming sphere in the sky,and the black art from a witch inspired by a long-tailed demon perched onher shoulder. No doubt “the young white king” made an exceedinglyprominent figure in the discourse, but it was so quaint and so brilliantthat it did not need the charm of royal condescension to entrance theyoung knights, who stood silent auditors. Ebbo at least was convincedthat no species of knowledge or skill was viewed by his kaisarly kingshipas beneath his dignity; but still he feared Friedel’s being seized uponto be as prime illustrator to the royal autobiography—a lot to which,with all his devotion to Maximilian, he could hardly have consigned hisbrother, in the certainty that the jeers of the ruder nobles would pursuethe craftsman baron.
However, for the present, Maximilian was keen enough to see that theboy’s mechanical skill was not as yet equal to his genius; so he onlyencouraged him to practise, adding that he heard there was a rare lad,one Dürer, at Nuremburg, whose productions were already wonderful. “Andwhat is this?” he asked; “what is the daintily-carved group I seeyonder?”
“Your highness means, ‘The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest,’” said Kasimir. “Itis the work of my young kinsmen, and their appropriate device.”
“As well chosen as carved,” said Maximilian, examining it. “Well is itthat a city dove should now and then find her way to the eyrie. Some ofmy nobles would cut my throat for the heresy, but I am safe here, eh, SirKasimir? Fare ye well, ye dove-trained eaglets. We will know oneanother better when we bear the cross against the infidel.”
The brothers kissed his hand, and he descended the steps from the halldoor. Ere he had gone far, he turned round upon Sir Kasimir with a merrysmile: “A very white and tender dove indeed, and one who might easilynestle in another eyrie, methinks.”
“Deems your kingly highness that consent could be won?” asked Wildschloss
“From the Kaisar? Pfui, man, thou knowst as well as I do the golden keyto his consent. So thou wouldst risk thy luck again! Thou hast no maleheir.”
“And I would fain give my child a mother who would deal well with her.Nay, to say sooth, that gentle, innocent face has dwelt with me for manyyears. But for my pre-contract, I had striven long ago to win her, andhad been a happier man, mayhap. And, now I have seen what she has madeof her sons, I feel I could scarce find her match among our nobility.”
“Nor elsewhere,” said the king; “and I honour thee for not being sobesotted in our German haughtiness as not to see that it is our freecities that make refined and discreet dames. I give you good speed,Adlerstein; but, if I read aright the brow of one at least of these youngfellows, thou wilt scarce have a willing or obedient stepson.”
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