One day the youthful Duchess of Brabant had gone out to hunt. She was
of such surpassing beauty that she was always called Fair-Else. On this
occasion she had somehow got separated from her companions, and to tell
the truth, she was not at all sorry, for she wanted to have a little
quiet time for thought; so she threw herself on the grass under a great
linden tree, and began to ponder over her troubles. She had many
lovers, and would gladly have got rid of them all, especially of the
Count of Telramund, a mighty warrior and her former guardian, who
persisted in maintaining that her father had promised her to him on his
death-bed. The young duchess both hated and feared the count. She had
refused point-blank to marry him in spite of his threats, and he now
declared that he would make war upon her, and would also bring a heavy
charge against her before the newly-elected German King, Heinrich of
Saxony. Else thought over all these things with a heavy heart, till she
fell asleep, lulled by the humming of the bees and the soft murmur of
the wind in the branches overhead. And in her sleep she dreamt. It was
a strange dream. She thought that a youthful hero came to her out of
the wood, and offering her a little silver bell, told her to ring it if
ever she needed assistance, and he would come without delay. It seemed
to her that she tried to take the bell but could not, and in the effort
she awoke. While puzzling over the meaning of her dream, she became
aware of a falcon hovering over her. It wheeled round her head several
times, and finally perched on her shoulder. Tied round its neck was a
silver bell exactly like the one she had seen in her dream. She gently
detached the bell and the falcon flew away.
Soon after she returned home, a messenger arrived to summon her before
King Heinrich’s judgment-seat at Cologne on the Rhine. She obeyed the
summons with a heart at ease, for she felt herself in the keeping of a
Higher Power, and trusted in the hope her dream held out to her.
King Heinrich was a man who both loved and exercised justice; but the
empire sorely needed stout defenders,—hordes of wild Hungarians
ravaged the south every year,—and Count Telramund was a mighty warrior
whose assistance was of great value to him, so he hoped that his claims
would be successfully proved.
[Illustration: LOHENGRIN’S ARRIVAL.]
The trial began. Three witnesses were brought to prove that the duchess
loved one of her vassals, and for a lady in her position to marry a
vassal was strictly forbidden by the laws of the realm. Two of the
witnesses, however, were declared false and perjured; and the evidence
of one witness was not enough. Then the count stood up, and offered to
show the truth of his allegation against the duchess by challenging to
single combat any knight that the Lady Else might choose to defend her
cause, and might God show the right.
The challenge could not be refused, but three days’ time were allowed
her to find a champion. Else looked round the hall to see if any noble
warrior would defend her, but all feared the terrible strength and
skill of Count Telramund. No one moved; a silence as of death reigned
in the court. Then the maiden remembered the silver bell. She drew it
from her bosom and rang it, and the clear sound that it gave forth
pealed through the silent hall, and passed on in louder and louder
echoes till it was lost in the distant mountains. After that she turned
to the king and said that her champion should appear at the appointed
time.
The three days were over. The king was seated on his chair of state
overlooking the lists, and thoughtfully gazed over the rushing waters
of the Rhine that flowed close to where the combat was to take place.
His princes and knights surrounded him, and before him stood Count
Telramund in battle array, and the fair duchess, who looked lovelier
than ever.
Three times the count called upon the champion who was to defend the
Lady Else to appear. He received no answer. All eyes were fixed upon
the king, anxious to hear whether he would now pronounce judgment on
the accused. While he yet hesitated, distant music was heard coming
over the Rhine. The sounds were passing sweet, such as none had ever
heard before. A few moments later a boat was seen approaching the
shore, drawn by a white swan with a golden crown upon its neck, and in
the boat a knight clad in rich armour was lying asleep. As the prow
touched the land, he awoke, and sounded a golden horn three times. The
notes echoed across the river, and were lost in the distance. This was
the sign that he accepted the position of champion of innocence. He
understood what was required of him, and disembarking, entered the
lists where his adversary was awaiting him.
Before the fight began, the herald came forward, and demanded the
stranger’s name and condition.
“My name is Lohengrin,” answered the knight, “and I am of royal birth;
more than that you need not know.”
“It is sufficient,” replied the king; “your patent of nobility is
written on your forehead.”
The trumpets sounded to battle, and the combat began. Telramund’s blows
fell thick and fast, and the stranger knight at first contented himself
with standing on the defensive; but suddenly changing his tactics, he
attacked in his turn, and with one blow he cleft the count’s helmet and
head.
“God has decided,” said the king, “and His judgments are just. As for
you, noble knight, will you accompany us on our expedition against the
wild invaders, and command the contingent that the fair duchess will
send us from Brabant?”
Lohengrin joyfully accepted the proposal, and at the same moment the
Lady Else came up and thanked him for the great service he had done
her. She had recognised him from the first moment of his appearance as
the hero of her dream, and her heart was full of wonder and gratitude.
On the journey to Brabant, Lohengrin and Else saw a great deal of each
other, and the more they saw, the more they liked. In the castle at
Antwerp they were publicly betrothed, and a few weeks later, married.
When the bridal pair left the cathedral after the wedding, Lohengrin
told his wife that she must never question him as to the place from
whence he came, or as to his parentage, for if she did, he must leave
her that very hour, and leave her for ever.
They were startled out of their honeymoon by the king’s call to arms.
Numerous robber hordes from Hungary had invaded the land, so King
Heinrich had determined to collect his armies at Cologne, and march
against the foe. The duchess, like most of the other ladies, went with
her husband to the royal city. There were many great warriors amongst
the princes of the empire, and the ladies used to talk of their
glorious deeds and those of their ancestors; but when Else’s husband
was mentioned, a strange silence would fall upon the company, for
rumours ran that Lohengrin was the son of a heathen magician, and that
he had gained the victory over Count Telramund by his knowledge of the
black art.