CHAPTER XXIIITHE ALTAR OF PEACE
NO one could bear to waken the young Baron till the sun had risen highenough to fall on his face and unclose his eyes.
“Mother” (ever his first word), “you have let me sleep too long.”
“Thou didst wake too long, I fear me.”
“I hoped you knew it not. Yes, my wound throbbed sore, and the wondersof the day whirled round my brain like the wild huntsman’s chase.”
“And, cruel boy, thou didst not call to me.”
“What, with such a yesterday, and such a morrow for you? while, chancewhat may, I can but lie still. I thought I must call, if I were still sowretched, when the last moonbeam faded; but, behold, sleep came, andtherewith my Friedel sat by me, and has sung songs of peace ever since.”
“And hath lulled thee to content, dear son?”
“Content as the echo of his voice and the fulfilment of his hope can makeme,” said Ebbo.
And so Christina made her son ready for the day’s solemnities, arrayinghim in a fine holland shirt with exquisite broidery of her own on thecollar and sleeves, and carefully disposing his long glossy, dark brownhair so as to fall on his shoulders as he lay propped up by cushions.She would have thrown his crimson mantle round him, but he repelled itindignantly. “Gay braveries for me, while my Friedel is not yet in hisresting-place? Here—the black velvet cloak.”
“Alas, Ebbo! it makes thee look more of a corpse than a bridegroom. Thouwilt scare thy poor little spouse. Ah! it was not thus I had fanciedmyself decking thee for thy wedding.”
“Poor little one!” said Ebbo. “If, as your uncle says, mourning is theseed of joy, this bridal should prove a gladsome one! But let her provea loving child to you, and honour my Friedel’s memory, then shall I loveher well. Do not fear, motherling; with the roots of hatred and jealousytaken out of the heart, even sorrow is such peace that it is almost joy.”
It was over early for pain and sorrow to have taught that lesson, thoughtthe mother, as with tender tears she gave place to the priest, who was tobegin the solemnities of the day by shriving the young Baron. It wasFather Norbert, who had in this very chamber baptized the brothers, whiletheir grandmother was plotting the destruction of their godfather, evenwhile he gave Friedmund his name of peace,—Father Norbert, who had fromthe very first encouraged the drooping, heart-stricken, solitaryChristina not to be overcome of evil, but to overcome evil with good.
A temporary altar was erected between the windows, and hung with the silkand embroidery belonging to that in the chapel: a crucifix was placed onit, with the shrine of the stone of Nicæa, one or two other relicsbrought on St. Ruprecht’s cloister, and a beautiful mother-of-pearl andgold pyx also from the abbey, containing the host. These were arrangedby the chaplain, Father Norbert, and three of his brethren from theabbey. And then the Father Abbot, a kindly, dignified old man, who hadlong been on friendly terms with the young Baron, entered; and after afew kind though serious words to him, assumed a gorgeous cope stiff withgold embroidery, and, standing by the altar, awaited the arrival of theother assistants at the ceremony.
The slender, youthful-looking, pensive lady of the castle, in her wontedmourning dress, was courteously handed to her son’s bedside by theEmperor. He was in his plain buff leathern hunting garb, unornamented,save by the rich clasp of his sword-belt and his gold chain, and his headwas only covered by the long silken locks of fair hair that hung roundhis shoulders; but, now that his large keen dark blue eyes were gravelyrestrained, and his eager face composed, his countenance was so majestic,his bearing so lofty, that not all his crowns could have better markedhis dignity.
Behind him came a sunburnt, hardy man, wearing the white mantle and blackfleur-de-lis-pointed cross of the Teutonic Order. A thrill passedthrough Ebbo’s veins as he beheld the man who to him represented themurderer of his brother and both his grandfathers, the cruel oppressor ofhis father, and the perpetrator of many a more remote, but equallyunforgotten, injury. And in like manner Sir Dankwart beheld the actualslayer of his father, and the heir of a long score of deadly retribution.No wonder then that, while the Emperor spoke a few words of salutationand inquiry, gracious though not familiar, the two foes scanned oneanother with a shiver of mutual repulsing, and a sense that they wouldfain have fought it out as in the good old times.
However, Ebbo only beheld a somewhat dull, heavy, honest-looking visageof about thirty years old, good-nature written in all its flat Germanfeatures, and a sort of puzzled wonder in the wide light eyes that staredfixedly at him, no doubt in amazement that the mighty huge-limbedWolfgang could have been actually slain by the delicately-framed youth,now more colourless than ever in consequence of the morning’s fast.Schleiermacher was also present, and the chief followers on either handhad come into the lower part of the room—Hatto, Heinz, and Koppel,looking far from contented; some of the Emperor’s suite; and a fewattendants of Schlangenwald, like himself connected with the TeutonicOrder.
The Emperor spoke: “We have brought you together, Herr Graff vonSchlangenwald, and Herr Freiherr von Adlerstein, because ye have given usreason to believe you willing to lay aside the remembrance of the fouland deadly strifes of your forefathers, and to live as good Christians infriendship and brotherhood.”
“Sire, it is true,” said Schlangenwald; and “It is true,” said Ebbo.
“That is well,” replied Maximilian. “Nor can our reign better begin thanby the closing of a breach that has cost the land some of its bravestsons. Dankwart von Schlangenwald, art thou willing to pardon the heir ofAdlerstein for having slain thy father in free and honourable combat, aswell as, doubtless, for other deeds of his ancestors, more than I know orcan specify?”
“Yea, truly; I pardon him, my liege, as befits my vow.”
“And thou, Eberhard von Adlerstein, dost thou put from thee vengeance forthy twin brother’s death, and all the other wrongs that thine house hassuffered?”
“I put revenge from me for ever.”
“Ye agree, further, then, instead of striving as to your rights to thepiece of meadow called the Debateable Strand, and to the wrecks ofburthens there cast up by the stream, ye will unite with the citizens ofUlm in building a bridge over the Braunwasser, where, your mutualportions thereof being decided by the Swabian League, toll may be takenfrom all vehicles and beasts passing there over?”
“We agree,” said both knights.
“And I, also, on behalf of the two guilds of Ulm,” added MoritzSchleiermacher.
“Likewise,” continued the Emperor, “for avoidance of debate, and toconsecrate the spot that has caused so much contention, ye will jointlyerect a church, where may be buried both the relatives who fell in thelate unhappy skirmish, and where ye will endow a perpetual mass for theirsouls, and those of others of your two races.”
“Thereto I willingly agree,” said the Teutonic knight. But to Ebbo itwas a shock that the pure, gentle Friedmund should thus be classed withhis treacherous assassin; and he had almost declared that it would besacrilege, when he received from the Emperor a look of stern, surprisedcommand, which reminded him that concession must not be all on one side,and that he could not do Friedel a greater wrong than to make him a causeof strife. So, though they half choked him, he contrived to utter thewords, “I consent.”
“And in token of amity I here tear up and burn all the feuds ofAdlerstein,” said Schlangenwald, producing from his pouch a collection ofhostile literature, beginning from a crumpled strip of yellow parchmentand ending with a coarse paper missive in the clerkly hand ofburgher-bred Hugh Sorel, and bearing the crooked signatures of the lasttwo Eberhards of Adlerstein—all with great seals of the eagle shieldappended to them. A similar collection—which, with one or two otherfamily defiances, and the letters of investiture recently obtained atUlm, formed the whole archives of Adlerstein—had been prepared withinEbbo’s reach; and each of the two, taking up a dagger, made extensivegashes in these documents, and then—with no mercy to the futureantiquaries, who would
have gloated over them—the whole were hurled intothe flames on the hearth, where the odour they emitted, if not gratefulto the physical sense, should have been highly agreeable to the moral.
“Then, holy Father Abbot,” said Maximilian, “let us ratify this happy andChristian reconciliation by the blessed sacrifice of peace, over whichthese two faithful knights shall unite in swearing good-will andbrotherhood.”
Such solemn reconciliations were frequent, but, alas were too often amockery. Here, however, both parties were men who felt the awe of thepromise made before the Pardon-winner of all mankind. Ebbo, bred up byhis mother in the true life of the Church, and comparatively apart frompractical superstitions, felt the import to the depths of his inmostsoul, with a force heightened by his bodily state of nervousimpressibility; and his wan, wasted features and dark shining eyes had astrange spiritual beam, “half passion and half awe,” as he followed thewords of universal forgiveness and lofty praise that he had heard last inhis anguished trance, when his brother lay dying beside him, and leavinghim behind. He knew now that it was for this.
His deep repressed ardour and excitement were no small contrast to thesober, matter-of-fact demeanour of the Teutonic knight, who comportedhimself with the mechanical decorum of an ecclesiastic, but quite as onewho meant to keep his word. Maximilian served the mass in his royalcharacter as sub-deacon. He was fond of so doing, either from humility,or love of incongruity, or both. No one, however, communicated exceptthe clergy and the parties concerned—Dankwart first, as being monk aswell as knight, then Eberhard and his mother; and then followed,interposed into the rite, the oath of pardon, friendship, and brotherhoodadministered by the abbot, and followed by the solemn kiss of peace.There was now no recoil; Eberhard raised himself to meet the lips of hisfoe, and his heart went with the embrace. Nay, his inward ear dwelt onFriedmund’s song mingling with the concluding chants of praise.
The service ended, it was part of the pledge of amity that the reconciledenemies should break their fast together, and a collation of white breadand wine was provided for the purpose. The Emperor tried to promote freeand friendly talk between the two adversaries, but not with greatsuccess; for Dankwart, though honest and sincere, seemed extremely dull.He appeared to have few ideas beyond his Prussian commandery and itsroutine discipline, and to be lost in a castle where all was at his solewill and disposal, and he caught eagerly at all proposals made to him asif they were new lights. As, for instance, that some impartialarbitrator should be demanded from the Swabian League to define theboundary; and that next Rogation-tide the two knights should ride orclimb it in company, while meantime the serfs should be strictly chargednot to trespass, and any transgressor should be immediately escorted tohis own lord.
“But,” quoth Sir Dankwart, in a most serious tone, “I am told that ashe-bear wons in a den on yonder crag, between the pass you call theGemsbock’s and the Schlangenwald valley. They told me the right in ithad never been decided, and I have not been up myself. To say truth, Ihave lived so long in the sand plains as to have lost my mountain legs,and I hesitated to see if a hunter could mount thither for fear of freshoffence; but, if she bide there till Rogation-tide, it will be ill forthe lambs.”
“Is that all?” cried Maximilian. “Then will I, a neutral, kill your bearfor you, gentlemen, so that neither need transgress this new crag ofdebate. I’ll go down and look at your bear spears, friend Ebbo, and beready so soon as Kasimir has done with his bridal.”
“That crag!” cried Ebbo. “Little good will it do either of us. Sire, itis a mere wall of sloping rock, slippery as ice, and with only a stone ormatting of ivy here and there to serve as foothold.”
“Where bear can go, man can go,” replied the Kaisar.
“Oh, yes! We have been there, craving your pardon, Herr Graf,” saidEbbo, “after a dead chamois that rolled into a cleft, but it is the worstcrag on all the hill, and the frost will make it slippery. Sire, if youdo venture it, I conjure you to take Koppel, and climb by the rocks fromthe left, not the right, which looks easiest. The yellow rock, with aface like a man’s, is the safer; but ach, it is fearful for one who knowsnot the rocks.”
“If I know not the rocks, all true German rocks know me,” smiledMaximilian, to whom the danger seemed to be such a stimulus that he beganto propose the bear-hunt immediately, as an interlude while waiting forthe bride.
However, at that moment, half-a-dozen horsemen were seen coming up fromthe ford, by the nearer path, and a forerunner arrived with the tidingsthat the Baron of Adlerstein Wildschloss was close behind with the littleBaroness Thekla.
Half the moonlight night had Sir Kasimir and his escort ridden; and,after a brief sleep at the nearest inn outside Ulm, he had entered inearly morning, demanded admittance at the convent, made short work withthe Abbess Ludmilla’s arguments, claimed his daughter, and placing her ona cushion before him on his saddle, had borne her away, telling her offreedom, of the kind lady, and the young knight who had dazzled herchildish fancy.
Christina went down to receive her. There was no time to lose, for thehuntsman Kaisar was bent on the slaughter of his bear before dark, and,if he were to be witness of the wedding, it must be immediate. He was ina state of much impatience, which he beguiled by teasing his friendWildschloss by reminding him how often he himself had been betrothed, andhad managed to slip his neck out of the noose. “And, if my Margot be notsoon back on my hands, I shall give the French credit,” he said, tossinghis bear-spear in the air, and catching it again. “Why, this bride is aslong of busking her as if she were a beauty of seventeen! I must be offto my Lady Bearess.”
Thus nothing could be done to prepare the little maiden but to divest herof her mufflings, and comb out her flaxen hair, crowning it with a wreathwhich Christina had already woven from the myrtle of her own girlhood,scarcely waiting to answer the bewildered queries and entreaties save bycaresses and admonitions to her to be very good.
Poor little thing! She was tired, frightened, and confused; and, whenshe had been brought upstairs, she answered the half smiling, half shygreeting of her bridegroom with a shudder of alarm, and the exclamation,“Where is the beautiful young knight? That’s a lady going to take theveil lying under the pall.”
“You look rather like a little nun yourself,” said Ebbo, for she wore alittle conventual dress, “but we must take each other for such as weare;” and, as she hid her face and clung to his mother, he added in amore cheerful, coaxing tone, “You once said you would be my wife.”
“Ah, but then there were two of you, and you were all shining bright.”
Before she could be answered, the impatient Emperor returned, and broughtwith him the abbot, who proceeded to find the place in his book, and toask the bridegroom for the rings. Ebbo looked at Sir Kasimir, who ownedthat he should have brought them from Ulm, but that he had forgotten.
“Jewels are not plenty with us,” said Ebbo, with a glow of amusement andconfusion dawning on his cheek, such as reassured the little maid thatshe beheld one of the two beautiful young knights. “Must we borrow?”
Christina looked at the ring she had first seen lying on her ownEberhard’s palm, and felt as if to let it be used would sever the renewedhope she scarcely yet durst entertain; and at the same moment Maximilianglanced at his own fingers, and muttered, “None but this! Unlucky!” Forit was the very diamond which Mary of Burgundy had sent to assure him ofher faith, and summon him to her aid after her father’s death. SirKasimir had not retained the pledge of his own ill-omened wedlock; but,in the midst of the dilemma, the Emperor, producing his dagger, began todetach some of the massive gold links of the chain that supported hishunting-horn. “There,” said he, “the little elf of a bride can get herfinger into this lesser one and you—verily this largest will fit, and thegoldsmith can beat it out when needed. So on with you in St. Hubert’sname, Father Abbot!”
Slender-boned and thin as was Ebbo’s hand, it was a very tight fit, butthe purpose was served. The service commenced; and
fortunately, thanksto Thekla’s conventual education, she was awed into silence and decorumby the sound of Latin and the sight of an abbot. It was a strangemarriage, if only in the contrast between the pale, expressive face andsad, dark eyes of the prostrate youth, and the frightened, bewilderedlittle girl, standing upon a stool to reach up to him, with her blue eyesstretched with wonder, and her cheeks flushed and pouting with unshedtears, her rosy plump hand enclosed in the long white wasted one that wasthus for ever united to it by the broken fragments of Kaisar Max’s chain.
The rite over, two attestations of the marriage of Eberhard, Freiherr vonAdlerstein, and Thekla, Freiherrinn von Adlerstein Wildschloss andFelsenbach, were drawn up and signed by the abbot, the Emperor, CountDankwart, and the father and mother of the two contracting parties; oneto be committed to the care of the abbot, the other to be preserved bythe house of Adlerstein.
Then the Emperor, as the concluding grace of the ceremonial, bent to kissthe bride; but, tired, terrified, and cross, Thekla, as if quite relievedto have some object for her resentment, returned his attempt with avehement buffet, struck with all the force of her small arm, crying out,“Go away with you! I know I’ve never married _you_!”
“The better for my eyes!” said the good-natured Emperor, laughingheartily. “My Lady Bearess is like to prove the more courteous bride!Fare thee well, Sir Bridegroom,” he added, stooping over Ebbo, andkissing his brow; “Heaven give thee joy of this day’s work, and of thyfaithful little fury. I’ll send her the bearskin as her meetestwedding-gift.”
And the next that was heard from the Kaisar was the arrival of a parcelof Italian books for the Freiherr Eberhard, and for the littleFreiherrinn a large bundle, which proved to contain a softly-dressedbearskin, with the head on, the eyes being made of rubies, a gold muzzleand chain on the nose, and the claws tipped with gold. The Emperor hadmade a point that it should be conveyed to the castle, snow or no snow,for a yule gift.
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