Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.

by Conrad von Bolanden

  _CHAPTER L_.

  _THE CONSPIRATORS_.

  The young nobleman galloped rapidly through the narrow valley ofCastellamare, and more than once turned in his saddle and gazedearnestly upon the ancient walls of the lofty castle.

  "What could he have meant?" he asked himself, "The good old manprobably wishes to give me a suit of that costly armor which I have sooften admired. If he do so, I will send him the best horse in mystables." In his excessive modesty, he had not suspected the old man'sintentions, for he had never allowed such a hope to dwell in hisimagination for a moment.

  After a long ride, he entered a ravine, shut in on every side by loftymountains. The heights were covered with trees, but below, all wasbarren and desolate. A few fruit-trees stood here and there as vestigesof former cultivation, and some stakes, almost decayed by time, rosefrom among the thistles and rank grass. In the lower part were theruins of an ancient monastery, of which the four walls and the toweralone remained, and although of comparatively recent date, the stoneswere covered with parasitic plants. Heribert fastened his steed to afragment of the wall, near which stood a number of other horses, allsaddled, but browsing upon the abundant herbage.

  He then proceeded to the church, where the profound silence wouldscarcely have allowed him to suppose, that he was in the immediatevicinity of hundreds of men all breathlessly awaiting an orator of akind widely different from those who had formerly spoken there.

  A rostrum of moss-covered stones had been erected on the place wherethe altar had once stood, and upon it was a man depicting in fervidlanguage the misfortunes and disasters of Lombardy. His audience, whowere all in armor, listened to him with passionate and earnestattention; at times they applauded his words, at others their shouts ofmenace and defiance proved that he had succeeded in arousing theirresentment. Rapallo, fearing to interrupt the harangue, stopped at thedoor.

  "Dearly beloved brethren," cried the orator, with a piercing voice,"you have seen that Barbarossa is insensible to our grievances. In vainyou have protested against the insolence of his prefects, against theinjuries done to your property, the drudgery which has been imposedupon you, the ill treatment which you have borne; in short, against allthe acts of violence and oppression of which you have been the victims.The Emperor has remained deaf to all your complaints. Do you know thereason?"

  The orator paused for a moment; his lips compressed, his nostrilsdilated, he seemed to infuse into his hearers, by his looks, the furywith which he was himself animated.

  "It is," he resumed in a still higher key, "because he looks upon youas slaves, whose necks are fitted to bear the yoke of his tyranny.Think of what he once said at Pavia: 'Italy is a conquered province,she has lost all her rights; to demand any of her former privileges isan act of rebellion.' Yes, this is what he said openly, the despot! Iheard him with my own ears; yes, he dared to say, that you have nolonger any rights, that you are nothing but his vassals."

  A dull murmur ran through the assembly.

  "Thus, brothers, when we appeal to right and justice, we are guilty ofrebellion. With such principles, what have we left to hope for? Are youastonished now that an abstract has been made of your lands, of yourhouses, of your herds, of all your wealth, and that you have been taxedin consequence? Do you not know, brothers, that you no longer possessanything, but that all belongs to the Emperor? Gather in your harvests,the bailiffs come with their satellites and take what they please.Prayers and tears are unavailing. Only enough is left us to barelyprolong our own wretched existence, and that of our children; and thisis all that is necessary for slaves, who live merely in the interestand for the service of their master."

  The murmurs became more threatening, for passion was working in thehearts of all.

  "Poor slaves," he continued, "life is only a burden destitute of everyjoy. For this we have been deprived of our rights to hunt and fish, forthis we are not allowed an instant which we can devote to the mostinnocent amusement. Woe to him who would leave his work to take amoment's rest. Is it right and just that your lives should be consumedin the most painful drudgery, that you should be subjected to everyprivation, whilst your masters revel in every luxury?"

  The orator had attained his object, for he was compelled to pause aninstant in order to allow his auditors to give vent to their rage infierce imprecations against the oppressors of their native country.

  "In ancient times the barbarians overran our fair land, but they onlypassed over her surface; by bending the head to the storm, its fury wassoon spent, and the evils could be repaired. Barbarossa, on thecontrary, has put about our necks a yoke from which there is no relief.We must build with our own hands the fortresses which threaten us; withour own hands we must construct for these cruel vultures--I mean forthe worthy prefects of the Emperor--those nests from which they canswoop down upon us with impunity, to pillage and murder. Will youalways submit to slavery? Are you willing to be oppressed until deathsets you free? Will you not, at last, rise in your might, and expel thetyrants?"

  "Liberty forever! Death to the tyrants! Down with Barbarossa! May hedie, he and his infamous satellites!" was heard from all parts of theruined church.

  "Yes! liberty forever," resumed the orator in a calmer tone; "the hourof our deliverance is at hand; profit by it, for it may pass, never toreturn. At present the Emperor is before Rome. The most solid bulwarksto our liberty are the Church and Alexander, the successor of SaintPeter. If Barbarossa succeeds in overthrowing him, we shall loseforever all hope of shaking off the yoke imposed upon us by the Germansand the Emperor." And the orator descended from his rude platform amidthe clamorous applause of his auditory.

  The speaker was a nobleman of great respectability, whose patriotismwas equalled by his benevolence towards the needy and distressed. Hehad exaggerated nothing; but, on the contrary, had endeavored topalliate; and this very circumstance had increased the effect of hisdiscourse. The pitiless severity of the prefects was, unfortunately, apositive and general fact, and the harsh sentiments of the Emperortowards unhappy Italy were only too evident. By adroit allusions, theorator had awakened all the memories of his hearers. A great number ofthem had felt the avidity of Frederic's agents; many had even sufferedcruel tortures; and as they related their misfortunes, each imparted tohis hearers the hatred by which he was himself convulsed.

  Soon the assembly arrived at a paroxysm of fury. On all sides wereheard fierce curses and expressions of grief and anger. Their armsshook with menacing sound; their eyes flashed; the audience seemedinspired with indignation.

  At last another orator mounted the rostrum, and the noise graduallyceased.

  "It is the Milanese Pandolfo," was said in a low tone; for all thatcame from Milan was received with great respect. Milan had won themartyr's crown.

  "I bring the good wishes of my city to all the brothers of the LombardLeague," said Pandolfo, with a clear, ringing voice. "You have heard,no doubt, that Milan is no longer a mere heap of ruins; her walls haverisen; her fortifications have again appeared, and soon she will standmore proud, more threatening, than in former days. But walls and towersare not enough to defend us against tyranny; what we need above all,what already constitutes our strength, is a powerful organization, andan extension of the Lombard League. Many powerful cities have alreadyjoined her; and next to Milan I can cite Brescia and Bergamo, Cremonaand Placenza, Parma and Modena, while others are ready to raise thestandard of Italian liberty. We no longer hold our meetings in themidst of ruins, or in narrow ravines, but in the open country. Whilstyou are still forced to tremble before the minions of tyranny, andescape by stealth, to meet here, we defy Barbarossa's prefects, for weare now powerful, and strength gives us courage. Fear not for theinterests of our sacred cause. Neglect nothing to gain over to it yourkinsmen, your friends, and your neighbors. Encourage the timid, arousethe cowardly. The victory is ours, and the chains of slavery will bebroken from the very moment in which we shall be united."

  Until th
en, Pandolfo had spoken in a calm and measured tone, and heobserved with great satisfaction the favorable impression which hadbeen produced by his report on the progress of the league. But soon, toarouse still more the minds of his audience, he began to paint theunhappy condition of Italy, and his language and manner became morepassionate.

  "Dear brothers," he said; "you have all seen at Milan, of what Fredericis capable, and what is the fate which threatens you. Perhaps you thinkthat your misfortunes have reached their furthest limit, but you aremistaken. You are robbed, you are beaten, the fruit of your toil istorn from you, your horses and your oxen are stolen before your eyes,but as yet they have not carried away your wives and your children. Youare treated with harshness, but they have not yet pillaged yourchurches; they have not profaned and desecrated your sanctuaries."

  "Yes they have!" cried a voice, trembling with anger; "yes they have!Our bailiff--may God curse him!--has carried off everything of valuewhich was in our church; he tried to force our old priest to pray forBarbarossa and the high-priest Caiphas (the Antipope Pascal). Our goodpriest protested, and was shamefully beaten, and we ourselves, forrefusing to pray for our oppressors, were driven from the church withblows and curses."

  "All this is but a drop in the bucket," resumed Pandolfo. "Do you notknow, brothers, that the Church, the Pope and the Clergy, are slaveslike ourselves? Is it not right and proper that the Pope and the Clergyteach, pray, and preach in conformity with the Emperor's orders? Sinceyou are Frederic's property," he added with bitter irony, "it is onlyreasonable that he should watch over your minds and your bodies; ofcourse always in accordance with his own personal interests. You seemastonished! Perhaps you think that I exaggerate? If so, it is becauseyou do not know what an Emperor is, and what ideas he has of his ownimportance. Are we not told that the ancient Romans worshipped theirsovereigns? Go to Rome, you will still see there the statue of thedivine Augustus. Aye, the Pagan emperors called themselves gods, andtheir subjects were compelled to pay them divine honors."

  "What infamy! what impiety!" exclaimed the audience.

  "Has not Barbarossa already assumed the title of Augustus? As heaffects to imitate the Roman emperors in all things, he will finallyoblige us to adore him as a divinity."

  A derisive laugh interrupted the speaker for a moment.

  "You laugh, brothers, you imagine that I am jesting? I speak in soberearnest. The tyrant's pride will not stop short of the abomination ofidolatry. You shake your heads; it appears impossible? Let me only ask,did it not seem impossible ten years ago, that you would become slaves;that the time would come when you would no longer have possessions, orrights, or liberty? Is not the Emperor to-day Pope? Is not thepretended Pope the Emperor's humble slave? Does not the Emperor pretendto an authority over the Church which is wellnigh divine? Is it not hewho lays down the forms of preaching and prayer? Thanks to him, ourbishops have been replaced by the minions of tyranny, and our goodshepherds by ravening wolves who tear the flock."

  "He is right! all that is only too true; Pandolfo is right!"

  "Barbarossa is the Antichrist!"

  "He is a child of Satan!"

  "A worthy successor of Nero!"

  "An infamous tyrant!"

  "Curses upon him! may he die unabsolved!"

  "Long live our Holy Father the Pope! May God save Alexander!"

  "Yes, long live the Pope! may God protect him!" resumed Pandolfo, whowas charmed with the enthusiasm which he had excited. "The sovereignPontiff is the rampart of liberty, the only real defence againstImperial despotism. Why is it that Barbarossa has turned all his rageagainst Alexander? It is because he knows that he can never accomplishhis perfidious ends so long as the Christian world shall retain himwhom God himself has appointed to be the guardian of right, andmorality, and liberty. The Pope suffers and struggles in our cause; letus unite with him, let us bravely flock to freedom's standard. Raiseyour right hands, and swear allegiance to the Lombard league."

  Instantly a hundred hands were stretched forth in breathless silence. Aheavy cloud overshadowed the sun and seemed to threaten the rooflesscloister. A violent wind rushed through the dismantled windows andshook the parasitic plants upon the crumbling walls.

  "As it is better to die gloriously than live in shameful slavery,"cried Pandolfo, whose clear voice rang through the ruined building, "wepromise obedience and fidelity to the principles of the Lombard league.We swear to devote our property and our lives to our faith and ourcountry, to the Church, and to liberty. We take God as witness to ourloyalty; may He doom us to eternal torments if we violate our oath!"

  "We swear it;" and the oath unhesitatingly pronounced by a hundredvoices was repeated by the echoes of the surrounding hills. Theassembly then broke up, and the conspirators separated; on theirfeatures might be read the thoughts which filled their minds, and thenoble resolutions to which they had subscribed. Less than a quarter ofan hour afterwards the ruins had become once more silent and deserted.