Ekkehard Volume I Part 27

A keen breeze was curling the waves of the lake, which had only lately thawed. Numerous, large iceblocks were still floating about, so that the s.h.i.+ps often had great difficulty in proceeding.

The monks who were taking care of St. Mark's coffin, anxiously cowered down, when the waves sometimes entered their boat; but bold and erect Abbot Wazmann's tall figure towered above the rest; his habit fluttering in the wind.

"The Lord is at our head," said he, "as He was in the fiery pillar before the people of Israel. He is with us on our flight, and He will be with us, in the hour of our happy return."

In a clear, moons.h.i.+ny night the monks of the Reichenau ascended the Hohentwiel, where they found everything prepared for their reception.

In the small castle-church, they deposited the coffin of their saint; six of the brothers being ordered to stay beside it; watching and praying.

The courtyard, on the next morning, was transformed into a bustling bivouac. Some hundred armed va.s.sals, were already a.s.sembled, and from the Reichenau, ninety more combatants were added to their numbers. They were all eagerly preparing, for the coming contest. Already before sunrise, the hammering of the blacksmiths, awakened the sleepers.

Arrows and lances were being made. Near the fountain in the yard, stood the big grinding-stone, on which the rusty blades were sharpened. The old basketmaker of Weiterdingen, had also been fetched up; and was sitting with his boys under the great linden-tree; covering the long boards destined for s.h.i.+elds, with a strong platting of willow branches.

Over this, a tanned skin was fastened, and the s.h.i.+eld was complete.

Round a merry fire, others were seated, melting lead, to make sharp pointed missiles for the slings. Bludgeons and heavy clubs of ash were also hardened in the flames. "If one of these knocks at the skull of a heathen," said Rudimann swinging a heavy club over his head, "it is sure to be admitted."

All who had served before in the arrier-ban, were put under the command of Simon Bardo, the Greek fieldmarshal. "A man who wants to pa.s.s his old days peaceably, must come to Germany," he had jestingly said to the d.u.c.h.ess; but in reality the clatter of arms, strengthened his mind, like old Rhinewine. With an untiring zeal, he drilled the unexperienced men, in the use of arms; and every day for many an hour, the stone flags of the courtyard resounded with the heavy, regular tramp of the monks, who in closed ranks, were being taught the art of a spear-attack. "With you, one could verily knock down walls, when once your blood is up," said the old soldier with an approving nod.

Those of the younger men, who possessed a good eye and flexible sinews, were enlisted among the archers. These also, practised industriously, shooting at a target. Once, a loud cry of delight was heard in the courtyard, where the jolly fellows had manufactured a straw figure, wearing a crown of owl's feathers, and holding a six-corded whip in its hand. A small piece of red cloth in the shape of a heart, fastened in front, was the mark.

"Attila the King of the Huns!" cried the archers, "who can hit him right in the heart?"

"Boasting is easy enough," said Dame Hadwig, who was looking down from her balcony; "but though on an evil bridal night, Death felled him, his spirit is still living in the world; and I fear, that even those coming after us, will yet have trouble enough, to banish his dread memory."

"If they could only shoot away at him, as well as they do now down there," said Praxedis, when a triumphant shout was heard. The straw-figure tottered and fell; an arrow having hit the heart.

Ekkehard came up to the hall. He had exercised with the others, and his face glowed with the unwonted exertion; whilst the helmet had left a red stripe on his forehead. In the excitement of the moment, he had forgotten to leave his lance, outside the door.

With evident pleasure Dame Hadwig stood looking at him. He was no longer the timid teacher of Latin. Bowing his head before the d.u.c.h.ess, he said: "Our brothers in the Lord, from the Reichenau, bid me tell you that a great thirst is besetting their ranks."

Dame Hadwig laughed merrily. "Let them put a tun of cool beer in the courtyard. Until the Huns are all driven out of the country, our cellarer is not to complain about the emptying of his tuns." Then pointing at the bustling life in the courtyard, she added: "Life after all, brings us richer and more manifold pictures than all poets can paint. You were hardly prepared for such a change of things, eh?"

But Ekkehard would allow nothing approaching a slight, to come near his beloved Virgilius.

"Allow me," said he, leaning on his spear, "all that we now see, you will find word for word in the aened; as if there was to be nothing new under the sun. Would you not fancy that Virgil stood here on this balcony, looking down on yonder busy crowd;--when he sang, at the beginning of the war in Latium:

"Yonder the s.h.i.+elds for the head, are with willowy branches surrounded; Others the armour of ore, are to s.h.i.+ning polish restoring, There, the protecting greaves, of glittering silver are forged.

Sickle and plough for the time, are dishonoured and wholly forgotten, All are busily mending the rusty swords of their fathers; bugles are heard in the land, and the watch-word to all is now given."

"Yes, that really fits the situation wonderfully well," said Dame Hadwig, "but can you also predict, the issue of the coming battles, from your epic,"--she was going to ask; but in times of such busy confusion, 'tis somewhat difficult to speak about poetry. At that moment the steward came in, to report that all the meat was eaten up; and to ask whether he might kill two more oxen.

After a few days, Simon Bardo's men were so well drilled, that he could let them pa.s.s muster before the d.u.c.h.ess;--and it was time, for they had already been disturbed in their rest, last night. A bright red light was illuminating the sky, far over the lake. Like a fiery cloud, the dread sign hung there for several hours; the conflagration being probably far off in Helvetia. The monks began to dispute about it. Some said that it was a heavenly apparition; a fiery star, sent as a warning unto all Christendom. Others said that there must be a great conflagration in the Rhine-valley; and one brother, gifted with a particularly fine nose, even pretended to perceive the smell of burning. It was long past midnight, when the red light died out.

On the southern declivity of the mountain, there was a moderate sized grove, where the first spring-flowers were blooming already, while the snow was still lying in the nooks and crevices of the valleys. This was to be the place for the mustering. Dame Hadwig was seated on her n.o.ble palfrey, surrounded by a small troop of well-armed knights, who had also joined the party on the Hohentwiel; the Barons of Randegg, of Hoewen and the gaunt Friedinger. The Abbot from Reichenau, was likewise proudly sitting, on his ambling-nag; a well-mounted champion of the Lord. Master Spazzo the chamberlain, was taking great pains to equal him, with regard to carriage and movements, which were both highly aristocratic and knightly. Ekkehard who was likewise to have accompanied the d.u.c.h.ess on horseback, had declined the honour; that he might not raise envy in the hearts of the other monks.

And now the outer castle-gate slowly opened on its heavy hinges, and out strode the archers; who with the cross-bow-men, headed the march.

Amidst the merry sounds of music, they walked on in closed ranks; Audifax, with a very serious expression, being amongst the horn-blowers, in the capacity of bagpiper. Suddenly, Simon Bardo ordered a signal to be given; at the sound of which the ranks swiftly deployed; skirmis.h.i.+ng about, like a swarm of wild bees. They had soon occupied every bush and hedge in the neighbourhood.

Then there came the troop of monks, firmly treading the ground, with helmets and armour under their habits; the s.h.i.+elds hanging on their backs. With couched lances, they were a redoubtable force. Their flag floated merrily, high in the air; a red cross in a white field. They marched on as regularly, as if they had been soldiers these many years; for with strong-minded men, mental discipline, is an excellent preparation for the warrior's life. Only one in the left wing, was not able to keep pace with the others; his lance protruding beyond the straight line preserved by his companions. "It is not his fault," said Abbot Wazmann to the d.u.c.h.ess. "He copied a whole ma.s.s-book, in the s.p.a.ce of six weeks, so that he has got the writing-cramp in his hand."

Ekkehard was marching in the right wing, and when his troop pa.s.sed the d.u.c.h.ess, he caught a look from the radiant eyes, which could scarcely have been intended for the whole corps.

Divided into three bodies, then came the va.s.sals and bondsmen. Their musical instruments were huge bulls' horns; emitting strange, uncouth sounds, and many a singular looking weapon was seen that day, which had already been used under the great Emperor Charles. Some of them were merely armed with a heavy bludgeon.

Master Spazzo with his sharp eyes meanwhile looked down into the valley. "'Tis well that we are all together, and well prepared; for I verily believe that we shall soon get some work to do," said he, pointing downwards in the direction, where the roofs of Hilzingen were peeping out from the wooded dells. A dark line was seen approaching.

Then Simon Bardo ordered his troops to stop, and after casting a searching look in that direction, said: "these are not Huns, for they are not on horseback." Still, taking all needful precaution, he commanded his archers to occupy the foot of the hill.

As the ranks of the strangers approached, the garb of St. Benedict became visible. A golden cross, in lieu of a standard, was towering above the lances, and the "_Kyrie eleison_," was now heard quite plainly. "My brothers!" exclaimed Ekkehard. Then the ranks of the Reichenau monks broke up, and running down the hill with shouts of delight, they soon met, and were joyfully embracing each other. To meet again in the hour of danger, makes the heart doubly glad. Arm in arm with those of the Reichenau, the stranger guests now ascended the hill, headed by their Abbot, Cralo. On a heavy cart in the rear-guard, they were transporting the blind Thieto.

"May G.o.d bless you, most n.o.ble cousin," said the Abbot bowing his head before the d.u.c.h.ess. "Who would have thought half a year ago, that we should return your call, with the whole of the brotherhood? But the G.o.d of Israel says, 'let my people leave their home, so that they may remain faithful unto me.'"

Dame Hadwig held out her hand to him, with visible emotion. "Yes, these are times of trial," said she. "Be welcome!"

Thus fortified by the new-comers, the troop betook themselves back again, behind the protecting walls of the Hohentwiel. Praxedis had descended into the courtyard. There she stood under the linden-tree, gazing at the men as they came in. Those of St. Gall had all arrived, yet her eyes were still riveted on the door, as if there were still someone missing. He, however, whom her eyes sought, was not amongst the last entering guests either.

In the castle, they were busying themselves to make room for the new-comers. For the number of men, now a.s.sembled, the s.p.a.ce was but scanty. In the round, princ.i.p.al tower, there was an airy hall, in which they heaped up straw, for a temporary nights quarter. "If things go on in this way," grumbled the steward, whose head was nearly turned with all the demands that were being made on him,--"we shall soon have the whole priesthood of Europe, up here."

Kitchen and cellar gave all they could. In the hall downstairs, monks and warriors were sitting, noisily taking their meal. Dame Hadwig had invited the two Abbots as well as those of n.o.ble birth amongst her guests, into her own reception room. There was a great deal to be discussed, and the questions and answers, quickly given and often crossing each other, made a strange confusion of voices.

As soon as an opportunity offered, Abbot Cralo told them about the fate of his monastery.

"This time," he began, "the danger came upon us almost unawares.

Scarcely had one spoken of the Huns, when the ground was already resounding, with the tramp of their horses hoofs. 'Sharp,' was the word now. The pupils of the cloister-school, I hastily sent over to the fortress of Wa.s.serburg. Aristotle and Cicero will probably get somewhat dusty; the boys catching fish in the Bodensee, instead of studying the cla.s.sics,--if they do not get more serious work to do. The old teachers fled with them over the water, in good time. We others had made ourselves a sort of stronghold, as a refuge. Where the Sitter-brook rushes through the narrow, fir-grown valley, we found an excellent hiding-place, which we thought no heathenish bloodhound would ever sniff out. There, we built ourselves a strong house, with towers and walls; and we consecrated it to the holy Trinity,--who I trust will protect it.

"We had scarcely finished it, when the messengers from the lake came, crying: 'fly, the Huns are coming!' Then there came others from the Rhine valley, and 'fly!' was again the word. The sky was already dyed red, from conflagrations and camp-fires; the air was filled with the shrieks of people flying and the creaking of retreating cartwheels. So we also set out. Gold and jewels; St. Gallus' and St. Othmar's coffins, in fact all our treasures were first safely hidden; the books being carried off before to the Wa.s.serburg, by the boys. So we left the monastery; not thinking much about eating and drinking; some scanty provisions, only having been brought to our retreat in the wood, beforehand. Thither we now went in great haste. Only on the road, the brothers perceived that we had left the blind Thieto behind in his cell; but n.o.body ventured to return for him, as the ground was so to say, already burning under our feet. Thus we remained for several days quietly hidden in our firwood; often jumping up at night, to seize our arms, fancying the enemy were outside; but it was but the rus.h.i.+ng of the Sitter, or the rustling of the wind in the tree-tops. One evening however, a clear voice, demanded admittance; and on opening the door, in came Burkhard, the cloister-pupil; haggard and tired to death. Out of friends.h.i.+p for Romeias the cloister-watchman, he had remained behind, without our noticing it. He was the bearer of evil tidings. The terror of that which he had seen, had turned some of the hairs on his young head, quite grey."--Abbot Cralo's voice here began to tremble. He stopped a moment to take a draught of wine. "The Lord be merciful to all christian departed ones," said he with emotion. "His blessing be with them, and may He let them rest in peace."

"Amen," said the others.

"Of whom are you thinking?" asked the d.u.c.h.ess. Praxedis had left her place and gone behind her mistress's chair, where she stood breathlessly watching Abbot Cralo's lips.

"It is only when a man is dead and gone," continued the Abbot, taking up again the thread of his tale, "that the remaining ones appreciate his value. Romeias, the best of all watchmen, did not leave the monastery with us. 'I will keep my post to the last,' said he. He then barred and locked all the gates; hid all that was valuable, and went his round on the walls; accompanied by Burkhard the cloister-pupil. The remaining time he kept watch on the tower; his arms by his side. Soon after we had left, a large body of Huns on horseback, carefully prying about, approached the walls. Romeias gave the ordinary bugle sounds, and then quickly running to the other end of the courtyard, blew the horn again there; as if the monastery were still occupied, and well prepared. 'Now the time has come, for us to depart also,' said he to the pupil. He had fastened an old withered nosegay to his helmet, Burkhard told us; and thus the two went over to the blind Thieto, who, being loth to leave his accustomed corner, was placed on two spears, and thus carried away. Letting themselves out by a secret little gate, they fled up the Schwarzathal.

"Already the Huns had sprung from their horses, and had begun to climb the walls, and when they saw that nothing stirred, they swarmed in like flies on a drop of honey. Romeias meanwhile, quietly walked on with his h.o.a.ry burden. 'n.o.body shall say of the cloister-watchman,'

said he, 'that he quickened his step, to please a pack of heathenish blood-hounds.' Thus he tried to encourage his young friend; but only too soon, the Huns were on their track. Wild cries came up the valley, and soon after, the first arrows whizzed through the air. So they reached the rock of the recluses; but here, even Romeias was surprised;--for as if nothing uncommon had happened, Wiborad's hollow psalm-singing was heard as usual. In a heavenly vision, her speedy suffering and death had been revealed to her, and even the pious Waldramm, could not persuade her to fly. 'My cell is the battle-field on which I have fought against the old enemy of mankind, and like a true champion of the Lord, I will defend it to the last breath,' said she; and so she remained quite alone in that desolate spot, when all others left it. As the cloister's refuge in the firwood was too far to be reached, Romeias picked out a remote little hut, and in it carefully deposited the blind Thieto; letting him in by the roof. Before leaving him, he kissed the old man, and then told the cloister-pupil to fly, and save himself.

"'You see something may happen to me,' he said, 'and so you must tell those in the refuge, to look after the blind one.' Burkhard in vain besought him to fly likewise; quoting Nisus and Euryalus, who had also fled into the woods, before the greater numbers of the Volskian horse-men. 'I should have to run too fast,' replied Romeias, 'and that would make me too warm, and give me pains in the chest. Besides I should like to speak a word or two with the children of the Devil.'

"He then went up to Wiborad's cell, and knocking at the shutter, called out: 'Give me thy hand old dragon; we will make peace now,' upon which Wiborad stretched out her withered right hand. Finally, Romeias blocked up the narrow pa.s.sage of the Schwarzathal with some huge stones, and then taking his s.h.i.+eld from his back, and holding his spears ready, he seized his big bugle-horn, to blow once more on it. With flying hair he thus stood behind his wall, expecting the enemy. At first the sounds were fierce and warlike, but by degree they became softer and sweeter, until an arrow, flying right into the opening, produced a sharp dissonance. The next moment, a whole shower of arrows covered him and stuck fast in his s.h.i.+eld; but he shook them off like rain-drops. Here and there, one of the Huns, climbed up the rocks to get at him, but Romeias's spears, fetched them down quickly. The attack became fiercer and louder, but undaunted, Wiborad was still chaunting her psalm:

"'Destroy them in Thy anger, oh Lord. Destroy them that they do no more exist, so that the world knows that G.o.d is reigning in Israel, and over the whole earth, Sela.' ...

"So far Burkhard had witnessed the fighting; then he had turned and fled. On hearing his account in the refuge, we were all very much grieved, and sent out a troop that very night, to look after the blind Thieto. Perfect quiet reigned on the hill of the recluses, when they reached it. The moon was s.h.i.+ning on the bodies of the slain Huns, and amongst them, the brothers found also ..."

Here the recital was interrupted by loud sobs. Praxedis was with difficulty supporting herself, on the back of the d.u.c.h.ess's chair, and was weeping bitterly.

"... There they found the dismembered body of Romeias," continued the Abbot. "His head was hewn off and carried away by the enemy. He lay on his s.h.i.+eld; the faded flowers which had adorned his helmet, tightly clutched in his hand. May G.o.d reward him: for he, whose life was lost in doing his duty, is surely worthy to enter heaven. Wiborad's shutter was knocked at in vain, and the tiles of her roof were mostly broken.

So one of the brothers climbed up, and on looking down, beheld the recluse lying in her blood, before the little altar of her cell. Three wounds were visible on her head; which proved that the Lord had deemed her worthy to die a martyr's death, by the hands of the heathen."

Everyone was too much moved to speak. Dame Hadwig also, was deeply touched.