Part 20

"I am happy to be able to know you personally, worthy father," said Barbarossa, as he invited the prelate to be seated. "I have heard so much in your praise that I can only desire that all our prelates would take you as their model. Allow me to say one word: I know that Roland has refused our invitation. I should have been prepared for it; some characters are emboldened rather than subdued by danger. Still I am curious to learn the motives which have dictated his refusal."

"The motives were not invented by him, Sire. Our Holy Church teaches that her chief cannot submit to any earthly tribunal."

"In this I recognize the Cardinal's pride!"

"The Holy Father implores you to persecute the Church no more; it grieves him to see everywhere the laxity of morals, the universal discord which has been produced by your fault. He complains, above all, that you leave certain episcopal seats vacant, or else that you confer them upon men who are under ecclesiastical censure."

"Naturally we do not choose Alexander's partisans for Bishops. This would be only to warm the viper in our breast. But I am wrong in excusing myself to one who is accused; it is contrary to reason. If we were willing to apologize to Pope Alexander for all the insinuations which he has made against us, our honor would not support the trial!"

Frederic spoke with much bitterness and rose to indicate that the audience was at an end. The prelate remained quietly seated; he understood Barbarossa's disposition perfectly, and he regretted to see so influential a sovereign follow a course which could not but cause great evils to Christendom. He deplored the fatal consequences which were inevitable, and he endeavored to make them evident in terms the novelty of which must have surprised the Emperor.

"Your Majesty is right in insisting upon the recognition of the Imperial supremacy. But cannot the Holy Father solicit a similar favor; that is, the acknowledgment of his spiritual independence?"

"Doubtless! We have no pretensions to interfere in any way with Papal matters."

"Still, you do interfere with them in the most outrageous manner! The vicar of Jesus Christ has scarcely place on earth to rest his feet! Everything has become Imperial: we have Imperial bishops, Imperial convents, Imperial abbots, and, in the schools, Imperial instructions!--If that be just, what need is there for a Pope?"

This striking truth, uttered with perfect calmness, scarcely awakened a memory in Frederic's soul.

"Your reasoning," he replied, "is false and unjust at the same time! The whole earth belongs to the Pope, and he can cast his fisherman's net where it may please him; we, the protector of the Church, will certainly not hinder him."

"Yes, you will allow him to act so long as he is obedient to your orders; but if the Pope should wish to be his own master, if he should wish to reign independent of all human control, what would happen then?"

"There is but one sovereign lord upon earth," said the Emperor, proudly; "the laws are only the expression of his will, and all power exists by it alone!"

"It may be so for earthly concerns; but for spiritual matters, God has chosen another sovereign, the chief of religious unity, the supreme shepherd of Christianity--the Pope!"

"The Emperor also belongs to the fold of the faithful," said Frederic, quickly, "so that the Pope must be the Emperor's shepherd, his spiritual father; am I not right?"

"Most certainly; God said to the first Pope, 'Feed my sheep;' he made no exception to the Emperor."

"And yet the Roman Emperor bore the title of _pontifex maximus_! How do you explain that, my lord Archbishop?"

"The Roman emperors were pagans."

"Be it so; I am and will be entirely a Roman emperor!"

"A pagan head on a Christian body!"

"No!" answered Barbarossa; "but go to Byzantium; examine the _Pandects_ of Justinian; you will see there that an alliance may exist between a pagan on the throne and Christianity."

"You support yourself on Justinian? but what was Justinian's code? Was it not the destruction of all liberty, the abrogation of every right of humanity? Great God!" added the illustrious prelate, standing sorrowfully before the Emperor, "what error! what peril! But the Pope has not yet worn the yoke of slavery; the nations of the Christian world will not permit it."

"Very well! But if, in case of disunion, the people leaned towards the spiritual, it would be easy to lessen the Emperor's person, and overthrow the tyrant."

"One moment, Sire; you give an incorrect interpretation to our meaning. The father of the faithful ought to oppose all those who wish to exercise tyranny and oppression. The Gospel delivered mankind from the slavery imposed upon it by paganism. Believe me," added the old man, in a prophetic tone, "the day that the Popes shall cease to protect liberty, anarchy and revolution will convulse the world."

Barbarossa shook his head with an incredulous and discontented air.

"The Emperor of the East has no Pope," he replied, "and yet he reigns peacefully."

"You are again in error, Sire! Mark attentively what is going on in Byzantium. What do you see there? An exhausted and dying kingdom, a weak and corrupt clergy, a host of ecclesiastics knowing no law but the Imperial will; an effeminate people without morals, and puffed up with vanity and servile ideas. Is this the state to which you would reduce your brilliant Empire?"

"You exaggerate; matters are scarcely in so bad a state as that."

"Ah, Sire! they are in an infinitely worse condition. Great God! I see it now; Salisbury was right!--I deplore it, but he was right."

"Salisbury!" said Barbarossa, starting, for he had a great respect for this illustrious scholar. "May I ask in what he was right?"

Peter sighed deeply.

"Why do you hesitate, my lord Archbishop? You know the opinion which a wise man entertains of our actions; why then do you seek to conceal it from us?"

"Salisbury occasionally writes to me, Sire," said Peter, with an embarrassed manner.

"Well, what has he written about us?"

"I received his letter a few days since," replied the prelate, drawing a parchment from his bosom; "it contains a dissertation upon the present condition of the Church, and particularly upon your designs. But it tells me no more than your Majesty himself has just stated, still I was unwilling to believe it."

"Speak!"

"You will it so; make up your mind then to listen to some bitter truths.--

"Led astray by the principles of the Justinian Code, Frederic dreams of the renewal of the brilliant Roman empire in its complete and most deceitful form. Either he does not understand the great Christian Empire, or it is insufficient to gratify his pride. He has less desire to be the protector of the Church than to be her master. The Pope must steer St. Peter's boat according to the Emperor's will; the bishops must be nothing but abbots of the Empire, and religion must be subordinate to the ends which the Government proposes. As he has destroyed the free life of the Church, so does he subvert the liberties of the people. Instead of preserving the ancient manners and customs of his people as is his duty, his plan contemplates the reorganizing of everything. If this Emperor ever succeeds in his designs, it will be by the abolition of all independence. Still, what prince could be compared with Frederic before he became a tyrant, and from a Catholic Emperor degenerated into a schismatic?'"

Frederic heard this discourse with marked astonishment, and more than once was on the point of interrupting; at last, at the word schismatic, he colored with anger, and exclaimed,--

"Enough! the letter of this learned personage is full of exaggerations! The name of schismatic cast in our teeth seems to be looked upon as an excuse for everything.--Because Victor's humility seemed to us more worthy of the Holy See than Roland's pride, we are called the destroyer of Church liberty!"

"Pardon me, Sire, it is my duty to say a few words in reply," remarked Peter. "You speak of Victor's humility, but Victor is, after all, your creature; a plaything which your breath sends whither it will; a puppet which you have chosen to obey all your caprices:--And should Victor be the supreme Head of Christendom?"

Barbarossa was confused by such language. The old man's frankness, his calmness and dignity, obliged him to listen. There was no animation in his manner, but his clear voice sorrowfully expressed his feeling of duty.

Barbarossa looked at him in silence.

"You will acknowledge, Sire, that the Pope must be free and independent to discharge his ministry. What would become of an enslaved Church, dependent upon the will of a temporal ruler? Great God! to what baseness would she not be obliged to descend; what infamous enormities would she not have to sanction, under the pretext of State policy! A religion which acts in the interest of human passions instead of opposing their indulgence, could not aid in the salvation of souls--Everything would be subverted; sin would invade the whole world, and would extinguish Christ's holy light, and with it all faith, all desire, all power of good!--And this," concluded the prelate, with energy, "this is the state of degradation to which you would reduce a Church which has existed for a thousand years!"

The Archbishop had risen, and stood before the Emperor like a prophet of old.

"It is well! enough of this; we understand independence, but within certain limits."

"It is not independence, but duty which dictated my words, Sire! May this appeal of an aged prelate, ready to appear at the judgment-seat of God, not be lost upon you! It is more difficult to speak the truth to princes than to conceal it. I have told you naught but the truth. May Heaven in its mercy enlighten your Majesty!"

The Archbishop bowed, and left the room.

"By my faith!" cried Barbarossa; "there goes a worthy man; one not often met with! His words might have turned from its determination a spirit less decided than mine!"

_CHAPTER XLI_.

_A HARDENED SINNER_.

The Duke of Austria had scarcely dismounted, when he was informed that Galdini Sala requested an audience. At the time of the siege of Milan, Galdini's name had been so often mentioned that the Duke felt almost a sentiment of pride at being thus brought into personal relations with one who had exercised so weighty an influence over the besieged. Consequently, he hastened to the tent where Sala was awaiting him.

The Archdeacon held in his hand a roll of parchment to which a seal was attached. This was the usual form of correspondence between persons of distinction. "With a low bow, Galdini presented the letters, but scarcely had Henry opened the roll and glanced at the seal, when his face assumed an expression of astonishment.

"What do I see? a letter from His Holiness! to me!" he cried. "There must be a mistake here; this letter must be for the Emperor, or the King of France!"

"It is addressed to Henry, Duke of Austria, and is highly important," said Galdini, respectfully.

The Duke cut the silken thread, and to the great surprise of the prelate, read over the Latin brief; for his studies in the Convent of Fulva had enabled him to do without a secretary.

"Clemence at the Papal Court! I thought she was in Germany! His Holiness is enraged at this criminal act--_scelus et flagitium_; yes, it is indeed a crime," said the Duke, continuing to read, and accompanying the reading with his own commentaries. "The divorce is declared null and void. The Lion is excommunicated and banished. By my faith, these are the words of a true Pope! I must speak to the Duke on the subject. I fear it will be labor in vain!"

"Your Highness will be faithful to the voice of the Holy Father," replied Sala. "Your Highness alone, among all the princes in the Imperial camp, is worthy of the Pope's confidence, and he charges you to protest against this sinful deed. It should be the Emperor's duty to protect the unhappy Duchess, but Frederic is not opposed to the divorce!"

"It is most true; it is a miserable measure of political expediency in the interest of territorial aggrandizement," said Henry, warmly. "The Emperor's villainous Chancellor has directed the whole business. My cousin's daughter lived on the best possible terms with her husband, before the interference of that felon. Ah! princes will not see to what their ambition leads them, until the halter is around their necks."

"What has all this to do with the divorce?"

"You do not understand the plot," resumed Henry; "the repudiation of Clemence must make trouble between Saxony and her relations; the union of those two houses would have thwarted all Frederic's designs against the liberties of the people, the clergy and the nobility."

"Frederic evidently seeks to assure his supremacy," said Galdini, endeavoring to excite the Duke to a fuller confession.

"There is no doubt about it. Why does he not assign incumbents to the vacant fiefs? He keeps them for himself. He owns already all the territory from Rottemburg to Besancon. He sows discord among the nobles, adds the fiefs to the crown, and has organized in the Church an army of corrupt Bishops! Tell me, is not that one way of assuring his Imperial supremacy?"

"It seems so to me."

"That is not all. The Empire is to be divided according to the old Eastern system. One of my followers, who was with Barbarossa during the last crusade, has heard him express his admiration for the Byzantine Empire. Barbarossa needs a capital, another Constantinople, and he has already made his selection. It is Mayence! Wait until he returns to Germany, and you will see whether this city be not deprived of all her liberties, as a punishment for Arnold's murder, and if he does not make her his capital!"

"But why do you aid him with your troops?"

"Because I am alone in my way of thinking! Besides, I have already spoken frankly to the Emperor, and he is well aware that I will not further his guilty projects. I have spoken frankly to you, that you may repeat my words to the Holy Father. Alexander must not yield; he is the only protector of right and liberty!--I am going to fulfil your message, and that, too, in your presence."

The Duke raised the curtain, and left the tent; a moment afterwards he returned with the Saxon prince.

"This is a messenger from His Holiness, Pope Alexander III.," said the Austrian; "he has given me this letter."

And he began to read it off in German.

"This is perfectly useless," said the Lion; "neither you, my dear Duke, nor Alexander, are called upon for an opinion; the sentence has been pronounced; the affair is concluded."

"The sentence has been pronounced, and by whom?"

"By Pope Victor, the legitimate chief of Christendom."

"Is it Henry the Lion who speaks thus?" said the Duke of Austria, with more dissatisfaction than surprise. "No one ever despised Victor more than you have done! Who has ever called him the Imperial puppet as often as you? and yet, to-day, he is for you the chief of Christendom!"

"The last reasons are often the best!"

"Because you need some excuse to justify your misdeeds!"

"Misdeeds? Duke, what does this mean!" said the Lion, with an air of menace.

"Must I then call evil good, and good evil? No, Duke of Saxony, not yet; not even in Frederic's camp! Do not misunderstand my frankness, Henry; your divorce is a wrong, a crying injustice, a stain upon your name."

"Your interference in my private affairs is insulting to me, my lord!" said the Lion, sullenly.

"Is not Clemence my relative?"

"Too distant to warrant such excessive interest."

"The duty of every knight is to defend the rights of helpless woman," replied the Austrian. "Besides, I am fulfilling the Pope's mission. He has excommunicated you; is that of no moment?"

"Very well! your message has been delivered; the rest is my own business."

"What! You will put yourself in opposition to the whole Church, you will endanger your own soul, while you violate the rights of chivalry?"

"Enough of this; spare me these superfluous representations. At my own formal request, the Holy Father has annulled my marriage; neither you, nor any one, even Alexander, can make me reverse my decision."

As he spoke he turned his back upon the Duke, and hastily left the tent.

"You see there a fair instance of the respect paid to one's conscience, and the sanctity of marriage, in the Imperial court," said the Duke, sadly. "Frederic set the first example of a divorce, and he will find scores of imitators."

"Alas!" Galdini exclaimed.

"I am uneasy for Clemence's safety. The fate of the unfortunate Empress Adelaide is still unknown; she has disappeared, and Clemence too might be spirited away, if I did not prevent it. I will go to-day, and solicit from the French King a strong escort to conduct her to her relatives. The unfortunate princess will travel through Lorraine and Bavaria to Austria under the protection of my troops. She will there be able to end in peace her blighted existence; for, even should Henry return to kinder sentiments, she can scarcely look for much happiness in her husband's society."

Galdini Sala thanked the Duke, and they separated after the latter had repeated his assurance of unalterable fidelity to Pope Alexander.

"Recommend me, my house, and my country to the blessing of His Holiness--and comfort poor Clemence."

Whilst the archdeacon was on his way to the tent where the nobles were assembled, Barbarossa was taking leave of the Count of Champagne, and their parting was so affectionately cordial that Sala was astonished.

"I will soon make a visit to that beautiful castle of yours, of which my cousin appears so fond," said Frederic to the Count, as he was mounting on his horse.

"I thank your Majesty for the honor you will then favor me with," said the Count, bowing respectfully and dashing off, followed by his retinue.

Without a moment's loss of time, the Count of Champagne returned to his castle, and Nevers presented the Imperial despatch to the King.

The same evening Manases and Champagne held a long and secret interview. The Emperor's letter had greatly embarrassed Louis, for Rinaldo had rather exaggerated Frederic's warlike language, so that it differed little from a formal declaration of war. The King paced uneasily in his room, cursing the Emperor, the Count of Champagne, and the obstinacy of the Pope. At last he seemed to have made up his mind, and sent for the Chancellor Manases, Alexander's most bitter enemy.

"This is my opinion," said the latter, after a perusal of the communication; "if you continue to support Roland, war is inevitable; besides, I have learned from another source, that an alliance is about to be concluded between Frederic and the English King. We consequently are in danger of being attacked on both sides at once."

The King's anxiety increased.

"We have fulfilled the duties of a Christian," he said. "I have defended the Pope as far as I am able. No one can compel me to subject my kingdom to all the horrors of a merciless war."

The wily courtier expected this conclusion, and it was decided to send a message, couched in very emphatic language, to the Holy Father at Cluny.

The Chancellor recommended that it should be intrusted to a partisan of Alexander, and the Archbishop of Tarantasia was selected. It is probable that some other choice had been made by Manases and the Count of Champagne; for when the prelate arrived at Court, on the next day, the Count announced boldly to the King that Peter neither would nor could bear the despatch.

"Have I then no longer a right to choose my own ambassadors?" asked Louis. "What have you against the Archbishop?"

"This holy man cannot suit you, Sire," he replied. "He will kiss Alexander's hand and will address him, with every mark of respect, a request which ought to be communicated as an order. The Pope will be under a false impression; he will refuse to come, and war will break out. Rather send a man in armor with a strong escort, that he may, if needs be, enforce the execution of your orders."

"Employ violence!" exclaimed the King.

"Why are you astonished, Sire? gentle measures have been tried without result, there is nothing left but compulsion."

"It would be an unheard of crime to drag the Chief of Christendom, against his will, before a tribunal composed exclusively of his enemies!" said Louis. "I will not permit it!"

"Very well; but in that case, the Count Henry of Troyes and Champagne will keep his oath."

"One moment, Count, for the love of God! Do not be so hasty, cried the terrified prince. I know your unfortunate oath, but you have scarcely reflected that it would be treason!"

"My oath is an oath even when pledged to an enemy; and yet, Sire, you would make me a perjurer and a felon? Either you will send a proper message to Alexander, or I will go over to the Emperor."

"Since your Majesty cannot resist the Count's arguments," interrupted Manases, "would it not be well to intrust him with this mission? The situation is delicate; it is necessary not to render it still more dangerous."

After a moment's hesitation, the King consented.

"Go, in God's name," he said; "but I adjure you, on your conscience, respect the Pope, respect the Chief of Christendom."

_CHAPTER XLII_.

_THE ABBEY OF CLUNY_.

The Abbey of Cluny belonged to the most illustrious of the religious orders, and controlled two thousand convents distributed throughout Christendom and Palestine. It was not only a pious sanctuary, but also a school, the renown of which extended beyond the seas. Unlike the monks of the other orders who were chiefly engaged in agriculture and field labors, the peaceful denizens of Cluny were entirely devoted to study and the pursuit of science, and attached a greater value to their manuscripts than to any material treasures. Many were constantly occupied in transcribing the works of the Fathers of the Church, and even those of the pagan writers of antiquity. The volumes intended for the church service were richly illuminated in order to be more worthy to appear upon the altar. The Church itself was enriched with pictures, sculpture, and works of art. The dormitories, the halls, and the refectory were filled with masterpieces, and resembled a vast museum destined to defend the fine arts against the ravages of time.

The cathedral, which was the largest in the world, was a marvel of Roman architecture, and everything in it so magnificent, that Saint Bernard could not resist expressing his discontent.

"What use is there of this amazing height, this immense width and endless length, of these sumptuous ornaments, which attract the gaze of the faithful, but distract their attention?" he wrote to Peter, the venerable Abbot of Cluny. "Why all these candelabras studded with precious stones, these costly paintings and works of art? Is it through honor to the Saints that you walk over their images and spit upon those of the Holy Angels? Why these sublime representations on a pavement which must be covered with dust?"