Barbarossa; An Historical Novel Of The XII Century Part 51

"The Holy Father lives there. May G.o.d protect him! His enemies give him no rest. He was forced to fly from Italy, and with difficulty can obtain an asylum in France."

"With difficulty? Are the French, partisans of Pope Victor?"

"G.o.d preserve us from it!" said Severinus; "but we fear the fierce Barbarossa, who has taken it into his head that Victor must be Pope, whether or no!"

Erwin smiled at the dread which his G.o.dfather inspired,

"This Barbarossa is a cruel man, and they tell dreadful stories about him," continued the monk. "It appears that he wants to be Pope and Emperor at the same time, and this desire is unchristian. He is now on the frontier with a mighty army, in order to force the king of France to give up the Pope. Woe to us if this merciless sovereign comes here!

He will destroy our convent as he destroyed Milan."

"You have too bad an idea of the Emperor," said Rechberg; "why should he cherish evil designs against your abbey? Is it because you show hospitality to Alexander? I a.s.sure you that the Emperor is too chivalrous to inflict a punishment for the accomplishment of a duty."

He spoke so warmly that Severinus almost regretted his frankness.

"I have never yet seen the Pope," continued Erwin. "Do you think it possible?"

"It is difficult," was the reply. "The Holy Father takes but a few moments' repose each day, when he comes to this garden. From morning till night he works or receives visits and amba.s.sadors or letters from every part of the world. We are often compelled to refuse admittance to persons of distinction."

As they reached the door which led to the enclosure reserved to the brotherhood. Severinus drew a key from his girdle and took leave of Erwin, who thanked him warmly, regretting that he would accept of no gratuity for his trouble.

"Do not insist, Count," he said; "gold or silver would be useless to me. The best reward for a monk is that which results from a consciousness that he has done his duty."

Rechberg immediately proceeded to look for Antonio, for Cocco Griffi's face had haunted him ever since they had met, and he began to imagine that there must be some connection between Pietro's servant and the fears which he entertained about the fate of Hermengarde.

_CHAPTER XLIV_.

_POPE ALEXANDER III_.

Two n.o.blemen were on their way towards the modest dwelling of the Holy Father: they were the Archbishop Peter of Tarantasia and Count Dietrich, the envoy of the primate of France. Peter had been in Cluny for the last two days. The message had been calmly received, but the form did not deceive His Holiness for a moment as to its true import.

Alexander guessed everything; he knew that Louis would not dare to resist Frederic, and that Peter had brought him not an invitation, but an order. On the other hand, Count Dietrich conveyed to the Pope the a.s.surance of the entire and perfect devotion to him of the Archbishop of Rheims.

As soon as the Primate had discovered the intentions of his royal brother, and the orders given by him to the Count of Champagne, he hastened to his presence, with the hope of effecting a change of policy. But either through fear of Barbarossa's violence, or influenced by the demands of his own va.s.sals, Louis, instead of listening to his brother's arguments and representations, broke out into bitter accusations against the Pope. Convinced of the fruitlessness of his attempts, the Primate at once dispatched Count Dietrich to Cluny, to inform the Pontiff of the danger with which he was threatened.

They were received, upon their arrival, by a steward who showed them to a room in the upper story, where they found the celebrated founder of Notre Dame, the Archbishop Maurice of Paris, and three cardinals. While the chamberlain repaired to Alexander's private apartment, the news was communicated to the prelates, who were thunder-struck.

Alexander was standing before a desk covered with parchment, which he was examining attentively; dictating at the same time to a deacon who took down his words, for the Pope possessed the rare talent of being able to do several things at once.

The Pontiff's exterior indicated the energy of his mind, and his strong physical const.i.tution enabled him to support the fatigues which the cares of the Church rendered necessary. His features were strongly marked and displayed great firmness tempered by benevolence. His eye was calm and decided; a gracious smile was playing around his mouth; but his brow was furrowed by the afflictions he had experienced. He had been formerly a professor in the University of Bologna and shone, by his great attainments, in all branches of learning. Although the untiring champion of the rights and liberties of the Church, he was personally humble and modest. He hated no one, not even Barbarossa, his successful and implacable adversary.

Alexander's costume was of the most simple description: a long white garment reached to his feet; above he wore a short red tunic, with full sleeves, the dalmatica of that age: from his shoulders a white woollen pallium, with a black cross, folded over on his breast, whence it hung almost to the ground, after the manner of the ancient stole. On his finger the Pontiff wore the pastoral ring, and his head was covered with a round mitre ornamented with a number of small crosses.

As soon as he had been informed of the arrival of the French envoy, he left his work and repaired to the hall of audience, where Count Dietrich and the cardinals were in waiting.

All knelt at the entrance of the Head of Christendom, who advanced towards the Count and extended to him his hand which the latter kissed reverently, and then took his seat with the cardinals, on chairs placed in a semicircle around the Papal throne.

"Most Holy Father," he said, "your devoted son, Henry, Archbishop of Rheims and Primate of France, has sent me to give warning of the danger which threatens your personal safety. A short time after the departure of the Archbishop of Tarantasia, a partisan of the Emperor, the Count Henry of Champagne presented himself before the king, and so alarmed him that His Majesty has promised to abandon your holy cause in order to avoid the danger of a quarrel with Barbarossa. The Count of Champagne, uniting his forces with those of William of Nevers, the Bishop of Orleans, and other enemies of your Holiness, is now marching towards Cluny, with the intention of arresting your Holiness, and giving you over to Barbarossa. My revered lord has sent me to you, now to advise, that you avoid this captivity by seeking refuge on English soil."

During this speech the features of the cardinals indicated their consternation, but the Pope never lost his coolness for one instant, although his face gave signs of the pain he inwardly experienced.

"I thank you, Count," said the Pontiff, calmly. "Be so kind as to a.s.sure our worthy son, the primate of France, of our paternal and sincere affection; but we cannot follow his advice. We shall remain here, although we may be led into captivity, if such be the design of G.o.d. It is not the first time that the head of the Church has been forced to yield to violence. If G.o.d in his infinite wisdom; and in the interest of His holy name, judges me worthy to suffer even death itself, let His will be done."

"Permit me, Holy Father," said the cardinal, John of Naples; "your resolution does not appear to me to be prudent. As soon as you have fallen into the power of the tyrant, your enemies will drag you before the council and throw you into a dungeon. Octavian, who styles himself Victor, would then rule in the name and according to the wishes of the Emperor, while the successor of St. Peter would be in a prison. Avoid this peril and the whole Catholic world will rise to resist the schismatical Emperor and his bishops. Did not St. Paul fly from danger in order to be able to spread more widely the divine word?"

"Worthy brother," replied the Pope, "in this particular we have been long a zealous disciple of St. Paul; we have fled from Rome, we have fled from Genoa. Where, hereafter, could we hope to avoid the inveterate pursuit of Barbarossa?"

"The Greek Emperor Manuel," replied John of Naples, "has, on several occasions, offered you men and money to defend Rome and drive the Germans from Italy!--Your Holiness cannot be ignorant of the fact that Venice and other powerful cities will give strenuous aid to this enterprise."

"But, my lord Cardinal, what conditions did Manuel exact in return,"

said Alexander.

"He demands the guaranty of the Imperial crown to him and his successors. Now, as this crown belongs to the Pope, he can dispose of it as he pleases."

"Very true!" said Alexander; "but, in that case, would we not seem to deprive the German princes of their rights in order to gratify our own personal spite? The wisdom of our predecessors has for ages placed the crown on German princes, and should we from purely personal motives presume to abrogate the acts of their wisdom? No, my lord Cardinal! may G.o.d preserve, keep, and enlighten the Emperor Frederic."

"Perhaps it would be well," said the Cardinal William of Pavia, "to request aid from the English king. His Camp is only ten miles from here, and a simple request from your Holiness will be sufficient to have his troops put at your orders."

This proposal awakened the Pope's astonishment; his irritated glance was fixed upon the Cardinal.

"We take refuge at the English Court!--we trust to a man who has violated the bonds of matrimony, and whose cruelty never hesitates in shedding innocent blood!--We put ourself in the power of one who acknowledges no laws, who has nothing of human in his const.i.tution, who tramples underfoot divine and ecclesiastical laws and precepts!--But we should be in a position still more degraded than that which poor Victor occupies with the Emperor."

The Cardinal had nothing to reply to this and bent his head in silence.

"Perhaps Spain is the only country in which your Holiness can find an asylum?" said Maurice of Pavia.

But Alexander interrupted him at once.

"Spain!---oh! poor Spain," said the Pope sadly. "You have not yet learned, my dear brothers, the news which reached me yesterday. The Moors have mustered all their forces; they have summoned from the deserts of Africa their countless hordes of savage bandits, who will throw themselves upon Spain like the sands of the desert. And to think," continued the Pope, "that the Emperor, instead of fighting against the Crescent, encourages the enemies of our holy religion by his own impious struggles against the Apostolic See. My brethren, these are bitter trials!--May G.o.d preserve the faithful from persecution, prison, and death!--May Christendom be not divided by schism!--May we remain at the helm to guide our bark through the troubled sea."

He was silent and with bent head forgot his own situation in reflecting on that of the Church. On their part, the prelates remained speechless with emotion.

At last Alexander raised his head, and his look was calm though dejected, as he declared his unalterable determination not to seek to escape by flight from the danger which now threatened him.

"You will be good enough, Cardinal," he said to William of Pavia, "to take care that all the archbishops, bishops, and prelates whom we have admitted to the reception of the royal envoy be invited to the reunion.

Our intention is, perhaps for the last time, to speak openly in order to defend the rights and the liberties of the Church."

He rose as a signal that the audience was at an end. All who were present knelt piously, received the Pontiff's blessing, and bowing respectfully, left the room.

"Oh, my Lord and my G.o.d!" said Alexander to himself, as he sought the little oratory in which he usually said ma.s.s.

He knelt devoutly before the altar, where a golden dove contained the Body of his Redeemer. The vicar of Christ had come to implore the aid of his divine Master. He prayed long and fervently; his features by turns a.s.sumed the expression of grief, consolation, and resignation; and when the rays of the setting sun shone through the red windows of the chapel, they shed a halo of glory around the head of the still kneeling Pope.