"WHY HAVE YOU DARED TO LEVY WAR?"
Large as was the tent of the Archbishops, it could not compare in size
or splendour with the imperial pavilion. This canopy was not square like
the shelter of their august Lordships, but oval in shape, and over its
peaked roof flew the great standard which signified not only that the
erection stood on imperial soil, but also indicated the personal
presence of the Emperor under its folds. For the time being, that
pavilion was the capital of the land. In it were collected the head of
the State and his favoured councillors.
At each of the numerous stakes which held in place the many ropes
supporting the roof, stood a soldier, his tall weapon perpendicular
beside him, and these lances, on whose glittering points the high sun
sparkled, formed a palisade around the tent. Approach to the royal
pavilion was only possible down a long avenue composed of mounted men,
who sat impassive in two extended lines under the hot sun.
The interior of the great tent was hung with priceless tapestries and
rich stuffs from the East, which softened the light that came from the
sides and roof. At the further end from the entrance was a semi-circular
dais, rendered accessible by three steps, and on this platform had been
placed, under an awning of purple, a throne, on the apex of the high
carved back of which rested a golden crown, a beautiful specimen of the
skilled craftsmanship of Nuremburg, where it had been made for the
Emperor Henry IV. during his residence in that famous city of the
empire. The hard ground which formed the floor of the tent was covered
by soft rugs, making noiseless the footfalls of those within. The
Emperor, seated on his throne, had on either hand those high nobles of
the realm who had flocked to his standard when the news of his return
had spread like wildfire, and who, perhaps because he did not need their
help, had made lavish proffers to him of all the forces at their
command. These offers he had received with a graciousness that charmed
all the would-be givers, and although he declined assistance, he somehow
managed to make it felt that this prompt support was most gratifying to
him. The nobles were delighted with the reception accorded them, and saw
that they had in the Emperor a liege who appreciated their worth; so
held themselves proudly, as was their right, for most of them at one
time or another had been treated with haughty scorn by those proud and
powerful Prelates who for generations had been the real rulers of the
country. At the immediate right of the Emperor stood Baron von Brunfels,
a man universally esteemed by all who knew him, a stickler for the
privileges of his order, and yet the last in the empire who would
infringe on the rights of others. During the march down the Rhine,
nobles had joined the imperial forces at various points, coming from all
quarters, for what purpose they themselves only knew, but apparently
with the sole intention of being of service to his Majesty in whatever
expedition he was undertaking, the cause of which they could but guess.
So much at least was to be gathered from their warm expressions of
loyalty, which did not diminish on their viewing the formidable force
which his Majesty commanded.
At the Emperor's left hand stood the Archbishop of Mayence, who, on
hearing that his Majesty was to pass down the Rhine, had hastily
collected his army, and as hastily disbanded it when there marched
through his town thirty thousand men, to be followed shortly by the
Emperor himself, accompanied by a regiment of horse that alone
outnumbered the little company which the Archbishop was able to assemble
at the moment.
Thus it was that the Archbishop contented himself by greeting his
Sovereign with merely a group of his clergy behind him, humbly placing
the good city of Mayence unreservedly at the disposal of the Emperor,
and begging permission to extend his benediction upon the expedition
that had swung so jauntily along the stoned-paved river-front of the
town, asking no one's leave, and making the air ring with patriotic
songs. The Emperor had dismounted, standing with bowed head to receive
the Prelate's blessing, and afterwards extended a cordial invitation to
his Lordship to accompany him, which overture was gratefully accepted.
Thus the Prelate stood on the Emperor's left, and the nobles were
pleased to note that this position seemed to indicate that, while his
Majesty welcomed the co-operation of the Church, still it would not be
paramount in his counsels, as one of their own order occupied the first
place.
Some rumour of what was about to occur had gone forth, and as the moment
approached at which the Archbishops were to appear before the throne, to
plead perhaps for their lives, the face of his Lordship of Mayence was a
study that might have afforded satisfaction to a physiognomist. He
endeavoured to assume that air of superior righteousness which so well
becomes a somewhat expansive and benign countenance. Occasionally a
smirk of satisfaction appeared, only to be smoothed instantly away,
giving place to an expression of that deep resignation which is
frequently bestowed, like a benediction, on a good man called upon to
endure a sight of the humiliation of his enemies. He clasped his fat
fingers before him--he was rather corpulent, and his hands had thus a
resting place--essaying to compose his placid features into an unctuous
semblance that betokened dim knowledge of the wickedness which is
rampant in this world, and a solemn grief for the same, mitigated by a
subdued confidence that virtue has other rewards than the mere
satisfaction of possession.
On the dais and on its steps, and along each wall, nobles were grouped
according to their degree, while in the centre, between the dais and the
entrance to the tent, a wide space was left vacant until their Lordships
of Treves and Cologne should arrive, which they did promptly at the hour
named. They came in unattended, save by their two secretaries, the large
escort which accompanied them from their camp being, by order of von
Brunfels, halted outside the pavilion.
The Archbishop of Treves turned an unflinching look upon his sovereign,
whom he now beheld for the first time, but the Prelate of Cologne took
time by the forelock, and, without waiting to be addressed, flung
himself prostrate on the lower steps of the dais, crying:
"Your Gracious Majesty, I implore your pardon. I have been deeply to
blame, and bitterly do I regret my fault. Had I known that my action was
contrary to your Majesty's will, I would have abandoned all my offices
and honours, retiring humbly to the poorest monastery in my
Archbishopric rather than have offended your Majesty."
Rodolph seemed taken aback by the unexpected and abject impetuosity of
his Lordship of Cologne, and for a moment he sat silent, gazing with
compassion in his glance upon the grovelling figure of the man at his
feet. When at last he spoke, his accent was kindly.
"My Lord, I ask you to arise. We are all prone to error, and a man can
but say, 'I am culpable, and I regret it.' If he make amends in after
conduct there is little to be said against him, and I have small
inclination to enact the implacable judge, hoping myself for mercy
rather than for justice, as our Holy Church gives us assurance to
expect. Rise, therefore, my Lord, and make answer to some questions I
wish now to propound to you. Are you content to return to your fair city
of Cologne and there busy yourself with what pertains to your office of
Archbishop, leaving me to deal with such nobles as Count Heinrich,
should their punishment become necessary?"
"I am more than content, your Majesty," replied the Archbishop
fervently, once again upon his feet, although, with bowed head, he held
himself most contritely.
"Are you content to permit the men in your command, now under arms
around Thuron, to join my army and renounce allegiance to you?"
"Yes, your Majesty, and also those in Cologne, if such is your Majesty's
pleasure."
"I have sent to Cologne ten thousand men, who are there to do fitting
honour to your high office, and you will thus be saved the trouble of
supporting a larger force than is necessary for your personal
requirements. You have no objection to this arrangement, I trust?"
"None in the least, your Majesty, and as I take this to mean that your
gracious clemency is about to be extended to me, I most loyally and
gratefully thank your Majesty."
"Then there is no more to be said, my Lord. Will you take your place at
my left, in company with your brother of Mayence, who is, I see, eager
to give you a cordial welcome."
The Archbishop von Hochstaden took station beside the Archbishop of
Mayence, but such admirable control did the Prelate of the Upper Rhine
possess over his emotions, that no one would have suspected him of undue
delectation in receiving a penitent sinner back into the circle of the
righteous.
"My Lord of Treves," said the Emperor, "you have heard the terms on
which I have consented to overlook the transgression against my rightful
authority committed by your friend and ally. This knowledge will, I
hope, make our conference brief. I therefore grant you a hearing."
"I have to thank your Majesty for the privilege, but I am somewhat at a
loss to know what use to make of it. I was called hither for the purpose
of answering certain questions which I was led to understand your
Majesty would ask, and the unnecessary caution was given me that I
should make truthful rejoinder. If, then, your Majesty will further
favour me with the questions, I shall reply to the best of my poor
ability."
"Oh, stands the case so, my Lord? You shall not be kept waiting. Why
have you dared to levy war in my dominion with my permission neither
asked nor received?"
"I acted strictly within my rights. Heinrich of Thuron is my vassal. He
connived at the escape or abduction of my ward, the Countess Tekla, who,
flying from my strictly lawful control, sought refuge in Thuron. My
demand for her restoration was illegally refused, therefore I besieged
the castle, and it would long since have been a heap of ruins had I not
been fool enough to link myself with the craven coward to whom you have
just given place by your imperial side."
"Was demand for restoration made of the Count before you attacked him?"
"Yes, your Majesty; made and refused."
"Am I right in stating that when such demand was made and refused, the
Count appealed to his Sovereign and yours?"
"I heard nothing of such an appeal."
"Who was your envoy?"
"Count Bertrich."
"Where is Count Bertrich now?"
"He is at the head of my escort, outside this tent, having been refused
admission."
"Let him be called."
An intense silence had reigned during this colloquy between the Emperor
and the Archbishop. All eyes were now turned toward the entrance, and
presently Count Bertrich, accompanied by the messenger sent for him,
came in, and took his place before the dais near the spot where his
master stood. The Count blinked for a few moments, coming as he did from
the brilliant sunshine outside into the comparative obscurity of the
tent. At last he glanced about him, seeing many there whom he knew, all
standing silent as if something ominous had happened or was expected to
happen; finally his eye rested on the Emperor, and a look of amazed
incredulity came into his face on beholding before him the young man
whose life he had attempted. Ruddy as he was, the colour partially left
his cheeks, and he stared, open-eyed, at his Sovereign, receiving,
however, no glance of recognition in return. The Emperor sat
imperturbable, his face stern and inscrutable, giving the warrior time
to collect himself, then he spoke calmly.
"I am told you are the envoy who carried the ultimatum of his Lordship
of Treves to Heinrich, Count of Thuron."
"I was the envoy, your Majesty."
"Is it a fact that the Count, in refusing the demand to give up his
castle to his Lordship, appealed to the Emperor?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Is it true that you claimed for your master special authority from the
Emperor, and that Count Heinrich said he would deliver up his stronghold
on the production of that authority?"
"Yes, your Majesty."
"Of course you acquainted your master with such important incidents?"
"No, your Majesty. I immediately attacked the castle in defiance of the
wishes of my Lord of Treves, and entirely without his sanction. I alone
am to blame for the beginning of hostilities, from which, once begun, my
Lord could not withdraw without loss of prestige."
"You did not then inform him of Count Heinrich's appeal until after your
unsuccessful assault?"
"I have no remembrance of ever so informing him, your Majesty. Shortly
after the first attack I was wounded in the mouth and could not speak
for many days."
"You have entirely recovered, I am pleased to see, and no doubt your
present speaking is much to the liking of the Archbishop. You
shamelessly admit, then, that you deceived your master, and at the same
time gravely wronged Count Heinrich of Thuron by neglecting to report
his appeal."
"I fully admit it, your Majesty, and am prepared to suffer for my
crime."
"Arrest this man, and see to it that he has no communication with any,
until sentence is passed upon him."
The Archbishop of Treves, who had been visibly uneasy during the latter
part of this cross-examination, now intervened.
"Your Majesty, permit me to mend an answer I gave to you. When I replied
that I knew nothing of such an appeal as Heinrich of Thuron is said to
have made----"
"Said to have made, my Lord? The appeal is proven through the mouth of
your own envoy. It seems that the caution to speak the truth, of which
you complained, has been more than justified. I warn you, my Lord, that
you are treading on dangerous ground in thus attempting to juggle with
me."
"I beg to say, your Majesty, that two years have passed since the events
under discussion took place, and men's memories are sometimes at fault
when even shorter periods are in question. For instance, my trusty ally,
who leaped so quickly into your Majesty's favour, doubtless forgets that
a few brief days since he bound himself solemnly to stand or fall with
me, whereas he has fallen alone--at your Majesty's feet."
"I was coerced," explained Von Hochstaden.
"There also your remembrance fails you, my valourous Lord. It was your
own proposition. But all this has nothing to do with the point in
argument, and it may be that Count Bertrich's loyalty has clouded his
memory, while it is possible that my own recollection has not been of
the best in dealing with doings long past, these doings having
connection with so unscrupulous a man as Heinrich of Thuron. His appeal
I did not consider as anything but a ruse to gain time. He well knew
that your Majesty was thousands of leagues away and that it would be
long before his petition could be heard; in truth, for two years, as
has been shown by your present return. Therefore, I paid no heed to an
invocation that was on the face of it dishonest. When Count Bertrich
says he acted without my orders he speaks the technical truth, but
everything he did had my most cordial approval, then and now; and, as I
have said before, if we had not been harnessed with a poltroon, we
should have had the castle within five days. It is futile, then, to
punish this underling, and let the chief culprit go, if my action be
adjudged censurable."
"Your action is adjudged a crime."
"Then I plead that, in justice, Count Bertrich should not suffer, being
under my command."
"Your Lordship is not logical. Count Bertrich has himself confessed that
he acted without your sanction. Your crime is that you approved of an
illegal action, not that you gave illegal orders, which, it seems, you
did not."
What motion the proud Prelate might have made at this juncture which
would have led to his inevitable destruction, can only be surmised, but,
happily for him, he cast a glance at his brethren of Cologne and
Mayence, and detected on their faces ill-concealed looks of triumph. It
meant much to them that the Lion of Treves should accomplish his own
ruin, and the stern face of the Emperor indicated that unqualified
submission must be made to him, if, indeed, such submission were not
already too long delayed. That brief gleam of triumph on the face of his
late ally saved von Isenberg. His manner instantly changed.
"Your Majesty," he said in a penitential tone, "I am compelled to
confess that I am illogical, and that the case against me is but too
clear, looking at it from your Majesty's higher point of view,
unburdened by the prejudice, and, perhaps I should add with shame, the
hatred which has enveloped me. I have no excuse to offer, and there is
nothing left for me to hope, except that the clemency which you so
generously bestowed on others you may extend to--Count Bertrich."
The Emperor's face lightened, and something almost approaching a smile
touched his lips as he saw that the haughty Archbishop, in spite of his
evident intention to sue for favour when he began, could not bring
himself to beg for any save a friend. The Emperor ignored his lack of
pleading for himself, and said:
"Are you content to return to Treves and accept the protection which my
soldiers will deem it an honour to supply?"
"I am content, your Majesty."
"Are you content to allow your men now gathered round Thuron to join
those under my standard?"
"I am content, your Majesty."
"Are you content to give up the guardianship of the Countess Tekla?"
"It has brought me little profit and some loss of prestige, so I am well
rid of it. I am content, your Majesty."
The Emperor rose from his throne and descended the steps of the dais,
extending his hand.
"My Lord Archbishop," he said, "I hope from this day forward to count
you one of my friends."
"In truth, your Majesty," replied von Isenberg dryly, "I would rather
have you my friend than my enemy."
"It is a sentiment which finds an echo in my own breast," responded the
Emperor with undeniable amity, and casting a sharp glance on Count
Bertrich, he added: "Is that defective memory of yours local or general,
my Lord Count?"
"It is universal, your Majesty. Men whom I have met two years ago I
could not recognise to-day."
"Ah! Such misfortunes, deplorable as they may seem, are not without
their compensation, my Lord."
Saying this, the Emperor mounted the dais, and in a few brief sentences
made congratulatory reference to the peaceable adjustment, thus
dismissing the assemblage.