Barbarossa; An Historical Novel Of The XII Century Part 18

"Go on, then!"

"Well," said the little man, "your heightened color confirms what I had already more than half guessed! But have you reflected on what you are, and what this girl is? I am afraid, in this, you have acted inconsiderately. Go to your G.o.dfather, and ask him permission to marry the daughter of ----, a traitor!"

Erwin's countenance changed.

"Ah, how pale you become!" said Lanzo. "You see, dear Count, wise men should always look to the issue of their projects. But don't be down-hearted; this Lombard angel is still only a child, and, in a few years' time, things may change a good deal." And he sprang to the ground.

"You are not leaving me thus, Lanzo? Methinks, a light collation, with me, in the Imperial tent, should not be refused."

"Many thanks, Count! Believe me, there are other things to be done in Barbarossa's tent, besides giving lodgings to a poor devil."

And Lanzo turned boldly to the pavilion of Henry, the Lion.

_CHAPTER XV_.

_THE ANTI-POPE_.

Although Lanzo was merely the Duke of Saxony's buffoon, the Count could not but feel very uneasy, as he thought of their late conversation. The allusions to his intimacy with Bonello annoyed him, and he felt surprised to think that hitherto he had been blind to all the difficulties in which his position as G.o.dson to the Emperor had involved him. For it was highly probable that Barbarossa would refuse his consent to any alliance between him and the family of Bonello.

Under the influence of these reflections, Rechberg proceeded through the camp, without at first remarking the extraordinary calm which pervaded everything. The deserted streets and empty tents seemed to indicate that the troops were on some expedition, but when he approached the tent, or rather the palace of the Emperor, he saw on each side of the road both knights and men-at-arms drawn up in order of battle. Frederic's tent and all those in its vicinity were decked with flowers and ornamented with rich carpets, and Erwin soon learned that it was for the solemn reception of the pretended Pope Victor, whose entrance into the camp was already heralded by a full flourish of trumpets.

In the eyes of the young Count, Victor was merely an ill.u.s.trious and important personage, for he could not admit his claims to the Papal throne, which, of right, belonged to Alexander III. He knew Victor's irresolute character, and as his very appearance was disagreeable to him, he decided not to present himself to the Emperor until after the ceremonies of the reception were concluded.

The Emperor had taken infinite pains to receive his Pope with becoming pomp; not because he wished to honor the head of the Church, but because he thought it expedient to give as much importance to the man whom he considered necessary to the accomplishment of his own projects, and with this view all the actions of the Emperor manifested a profound respect for the Head of the Church. He rode on his left hand, a little to the rear, as though he did not presume to put himself on an equality with the chief of Christendom. Barbarossa wore a scarlet doublet, over which was thrown the Imperial mantle, clasped with gold links and silver crescents. On his head was the crown, and in his hand the sceptre. His face was dignified and composed, and as they neared the camp and the crowd could judge better of his movements, he was more demonstrative in his attentions to the Anti-Pope; whose hand never ceased from blessing the bystanders.

Victor's tall stature, his bearing, and even his costume, were rather those of a temporal prince than those of a spiritual shepherd. Over his shoulders hung a scarlet robe, richly embroidered in gold, and on his long curling looks was placed the triple crown of Rome; his features reflected the pride and arrogance of his disposition.

Immediately after the Emperor rode Henry the Lion, the Dukes of Austria, of Bohemia, and of Rottemburg, and the Landgrave of Thuringen, followed by a brilliant array of princes and n.o.bles. The escort was preceded by the military band, which marched, with a flourish of trumpets, about a hundred yards in advance of the Pope. But, although on all sides there were soldiers and martial standards, there was no religious display, no religious banners or chants; not even a cross was to be seen; for Victor's entry to the camp showed plainly that he was but a creature of the Emperor, from whom he derived all his pomp and greatness.

Frederic dismounted before his tent, and following an ancient custom, came forward respectfully, to hold the Pope's stirrup. But here the Cardinal Octavian, for such was his real t.i.tle, showed an utter want of tact. Affecting to be deeply engaged in conversation with his immediate attendants, he permitted the Emperor to remain too long in his humiliating posture.

Frederic colored up with anger and mortification, while his Chancellor smiled with inward satisfaction. Rinaldo had long advised the discontinuance of this idle and useless ceremony, but the Emperor, with more foresight than his minister, judged that the moment was not yet ripe for the abolition of a custom which seemed to establish the supremacy of the chief of Christendom.

At last Octavian dismounted; he took the monarch in his arms and gave him the kiss of peace, and then, turning towards the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude, he gave them his benediction, and entered the Imperial tent.

_CHAPTER XVI_.

_THE EMPEROR'S SLAVE_.

The first service which Barbarossa exacted of Victor, was the solemn excommunication of Alexander III., and his partisans, in presence of the army, and in front of the walls of Milan. A few days after his arrival at the Camp, an immense tribune, draped with black cloth, and provided with numerous seats, was erected at a safe distance from the city. In the centre was an elevated platform, and behind this a throne for the Emperor, whence he could communicate his desires to the various speakers. Thousands of soldiers from all parts of the Camp surrounded the tribune, and a crowd of curious spectators lined the towers and walls of the city.

At the appointed hour, the Emperor, the n.o.bles, the false Pope, and the prelates, ascended the platform and took seats according to their respective rank. Alberic, the Pope's chaplain, first, in a noisy harangue, explained the object of the a.s.sembly. He denounced Alexander and his adherents as heretics, and extolled Victor as the legitimate Pope.

Lighted tapers were then handed to the n.o.bles and the clergy; and Octavian, mounting the pulpit, began to recite, in a voice trembling with pa.s.sion, the usual lengthy formula of excommunication, at the close of which, as the sentence of malediction was thundered out, the Emperor, n.o.bles, and clergy extinguished their candles.

This solemn farce, enacted by Frederic's orders, in the immediate vicinity of a city whose inhabitants were enthusiastic partisans of the cause of Alexander, was received by the Milanese with shouts of derision; and scarcely had the anathema been uttered when a speaking-trumpet was heard upon the walls.

"Octavian," it cried, "wrongfully surnamed Victor, slave of the Emperor, we scorn your maledictions.--Heaven blesses whom you curse, and curses whom you bless!"

Few of the soldiers present had ever before heard a speaking-trumpet, and these words seemed supernatural, while the distant echo gave credence to the speedy realization of the prophecy. But Frederic, more enlightened, skilfully parried the blow, and aware of a report which had been circulated latterly, that an angel had descended from heaven to curse Victor and his partisans, he looked on in scornful silence, while the crowd broke out in clamorous surprise.

Suddenly a straw effigy of the Pope, crowned with rags, with a paper mitre on its head, and a scroll with the inscription, in large letters, of "Pope Victor" in its hand, was hurled from the walls by a catapult, and fell close to Octavian's feet, while, amid a burst of contemptuous laughter, the voice again shouted through the trumpet, "Straw Pope!

Straw Pope!"

Octavian was thunderstruck, and stood gazing with a wild stare upon the effigy, and his face a.s.sumed an expression so ridiculously stupid, that Rinaldo and the bystanders, remarking the absurd resemblance between it and the figure, could with difficulty restrain their mirth.

Frederic reflected grimly for a moment, but soon found means to turn this incident to profit.

"Resume your seat!" he said to Victor, and then rising with the fierce and decided manner which so well became him, he commanded silence. Even Rinaldo's face wore a serious expression, and all awaited, breathlessly, the monarch's harangue.

"What means all this? What seeks Milan with these sinful mockeries?

Will that accursed city never respect anything? She turns into ridicule even the holy symbols of spiritual power; she mocks at the legitimate Head of the Church; and that her insults may be the better heard, a miserable speaking-trumpet cries them from the walls! Remember the tyranny which reigns in Milan, think of the destruction of Lodi and the misfortunes of Como; think of all those things, and then tell me if that city does not merit destruction!"

Frederic ceased, but his words had produced the desired effect.

"She deserves her fate!" cried, eagerly, the soldiers of Lodi and Como who were present; "she deserves her fate; down with Milan!"

"Yes, she deserves it," resumed the Emperor, "and this time we ourselves will execute the decrees of justice!" He paused, and raising his hand to his brow, took off the crown. Then, his eyes raised to heaven, and his right hand extended, he cried, with a loud voice,--

"I, Frederic of Hohenstauffen, king of the Germans and Emperor of Rome, do swear before Almighty G.o.d and the ever blessed Virgin Mary, by the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the Saints of Paradise, that this crown will no more grace my brow until the city of Milan shall have been destroyed in chastis.e.m.e.nt for her crimes!"

The Emperor made the sign of the cross, and delivered the diadem into the keeping of the Imperial Chancellor.

This solemn oath electrified the Italians.

"Long live the Emperor!" shouted a thousand voices. "Long live the Emperor! Down with Milan!"

In the midst of the applause, Barbarossa, well satisfied with the result of his harangue, left the tribune, followed by his n.o.bles.

Meanwhile Victor, who had returned to his tent, gave free vent to his anger, and while Alberic was divesting him of his mantle, shook his head with most unequivocal marks of resentment.

"Straw pope!" he exclaimed; "straw pope! the wretches, to compare me, the legitimate Head of the Church, to a man of straw!"

"It is most infamous!" replied the chaplain; "it merits the vengeance of heaven."

"Patience, the Milanese will pay dearly for their insolence. It needed but this to fill the cup of Imperial anger. This city must be destroyed and levelled with the earth. Henceforth whoever dares to intercede for this new Nineveh, is the foe of the Church, of the Pope, and of the Emperor."

"And the speaking-trumpet," added Alberic; "that abominable speaking-trumpet!"

"True, I had almost forgotten that," replied Victor. "What was it they called me? Straw Pope!--the villains! I am the true Pope, both by the choice of the people and Imperial sanction. Yes, of course I am," he repeated, as though wishing to persuade himself that it really was so.

"Alexander can never be more than the Cardinal Roland, for he was neither elected by the people nor confirmed by the Emperor."