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 I 
 
 Cheerfully he stepped with his burden over the threshold which no 
 woman's foot might touch."
 
 EKKEHARD 
 
 a Cale of t])t Centl^ Century 
 
 JOSEPH V. VON SCHEFFEL 
 
 Translated from the German with all the 
 Notes op' the 13 8th Edition 
 
 Volume I. 
 
 NEW YORK: 46 East 14TH Street 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL & COMPANY 
 
 BOSTON: 100 PuRCitASE Street
 
 Copyright, 1895 
 By Thomas Y. Crowell & Company 
 
 ©nibfrsftD Press 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 
 V. I 
 
 CONTENTS TO VOL. I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Biographical Sketch vii 
 
 The Author's Preface xxxi 
 
 Chapter 
 
 I. Hadwig, the Duchess of Suabia . . i 
 
 II. The Disciples of St. Gallus .... 15 
 
 III. WlBORADA ReCLUSA 33 
 
 IV. In the Monastery 54 
 
 V. Ekkehard's Departure 80 
 
 VI. Moengal loi 
 
 VII. Vergilius on the PIoiientwiel ... 119 
 
 VIII. Audifax 135 
 
 IX. The Woman of the Wood 152 
 
 X. Christmas 176 
 
 XI. The Old Man of the Heidenhohle . 196 
 
 XII. The Approach of the Huns .... 218 
 
 XIII. IIeripald and his Guests 242 
 
 XIV. The Battle with the Huns .... 269 
 
 NOTES 293 
 
 447444
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 
 
 Clio had no more tenderly treasured foster-child 
 than the Alemannian poet Joseph Victor von Schef- 
 fel. He did not, it is true, write history, but he 
 came as a reconciling mediator between History 
 and Romance, and by the magic of his construc- 
 tive imagination called into life and beauty a whole 
 world of forgotten forms. He realized, as no writer 
 before him had ever realized, that human nature is 
 ever the same ; and he therefore clothed these forms 
 with recognizable speech and modes of action. 
 
 " Ekkehard" is no ahen, stiff, unnatural, mediaeval 
 monstrosity, but a Hfe-drama worked out with hu- 
 man beings, thinking natural thoughts, doing natural 
 deeds, alive with real, not galvanized life; at the 
 same time, it is felt to be true to its epoch ; and this 
 union of qualities gives it, and especially gave it 
 when it first appeared, an epoch-making significance. 
 It founded a school of historic fiction in Germany; 
 but by a strange fate, the imitations, or rather the 
 offshoots, of this great romance, are better known to 
 English-speaking people than the prototype.
 
 Viii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 Scheffel is also known in Germany, and even more 
 widely known as the poet of the student. His 
 lyrico-epic poem, " Der Trompeter von Sakkingen," 
 has past its two-hundredth edition : it has been twice 
 dramatized for the operatic stage, and its songs are 
 household words in Germany. The formerly named 
 Bergsee, near Sakkingen, has been re-named Scheffel- 
 see, and the steamer which ploughs its blue waters 
 carries about on its counter the now-historic appella- 
 tion of Hiddigeigei, after the song-compeUing cat. 
 On the cliff overlooking the lake is cut an inscription 
 in honor of the poet, and the whole region, as well 
 as the beautiful shores of the Bodensee, are redolent 
 with his memory. 
 
 The various lines of inheritance and environment 
 which united their strands, and by a correlation of 
 forces produced in Von Scheffel the impulse to 
 create as he did, are unusually clear, and are inter- 
 esting to trace. One or two instances must here 
 suffice. 
 
 His grandfather, Magnus Scheffel, had been the 
 last Oberschaffner, or steward, of the Benedictine 
 Monastery of Gengenbach, — a free monastery which 
 was situated on the Black Forest possessions of the 
 Abbey of S. Gall. The founder of this monastery 
 was S. Fridolinus, who is introduced so effectively 
 into " Der Trompeter." Magnus Scheffel was the 
 nephew of the last abbd, Bishop Jakob. The story 
 goes that he obtained his place by means of a witti-
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ix 
 
 cism. A bishop was dining at the monastery. A 
 servant accidentally spilt a trout over the prelate's 
 violet robes. Magnus Scheffel burst into a peal of 
 laughter, and pacified the angry bishop by saying, 
 " I have seen much that was good and beautiful, but 
 never before an imperial prelate in trout sauce ! " 
 The legend runs that the bishop, as a reward for his 
 originality, made him head steward. 
 
 After the monastery was secularized, in 1803, 
 Magnus Scheffel entered the Baden civil service as 
 steward of ducal domains, and with the title of " Herr 
 Amtskeller." He was pensioned in 1809, and died 
 in 1836. His grandson remembered him well, and it 
 is quite possible that he inherited something of the 
 old steward's ready wit. 
 
 Von Scheffel's maternal grandmother, Frau Kre- 
 derer, was born at Rielasingen, at the foot of the 
 Hohentwiel. She also was full of witty sayings, and 
 was altogether a remarkable woman, having charge 
 of the Scheffel household for many years. 
 
 Scheffel's father, Philip Jakob Scheffel, was an 
 engineer, and bore the title of Captain, as well as 
 that of Oberbaiirat^ — his duties in connection with 
 road-and-bridge-building compelling him, for up- 
 wards of thirty years, to visit all parts of Baden, 
 especially the Highlands. In 1824 he married Frau- 
 lein Josephine Krederer, the orphaned daughter of a 
 well-to-do merchant, whose home in Oberndorf was 
 interesting as a former nobleman's domain, and tradi-
 
 X BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 tionally a Burgfriede^ or " place of asylum ; '' more- 
 over, an ancestor of her family, Balthasar Krederer, 
 was held in honor as Burgh auptmann of the once 
 splendid castle of Kiissaburg, the stately remains of 
 which are seen on a cliff not far from Schaffhausen, 
 overlooking the rushing Rhine. Frau Scheffel was 
 distinguished not only for her beauty, but also for 
 her lively imagination, bright cheery wit, and a good 
 deal of poetic ability, which were manifested in her 
 published writings. A comedy of hers called " Lorle 
 und Dorle," in Suabian dialect, was performed in 
 the Karlsruhe theatre, and also at Heidelberg, and 
 was flatteringly received. From his mother, then, as 
 has been the case with so many distinguished men, 
 Von Scheffel inherited the pecuUar bloom of his 
 genius. He himself attributed his poetical art to his 
 mother, and not to his life : " My life,'' he said, " has 
 passed simply. You must have known my mother : 
 whatever poetr)- 1 have in me I got from her." His 
 father was gifted and honorable, stern, orderly, and 
 obstinate, — a genuine example of a true German ofifi- 
 cial. It is interesting to note that, as a member of 
 the Commission for Regulating the Course of the 
 Rhine, he was compelled to make a practical study 
 of the great stream to whose glory his son after- 
 wards, says Prolss, by his poetry added new lustre. 
 He published a pamphlet on the subject, and also 
 wrote a life of General Tulla. 
 
 In spite of the natural conflict which such a man
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. XI 
 
 was infallibly destined to meet with in such a son, 
 Von Scheffel owed much to him, — his enthusiasm 
 for a united Germany, which had led him, in 1814, 
 1815, toenUst in the war with France, and brought 
 him a medal for bravery before Strassburg ; and still 
 more his deep love for that Alemannian land which 
 bore such rich fruits in the son. From his father 
 Von Scheffel inherited a talent for drawing; and 
 with it also a still further impulse to come into con- 
 flict with paternal authority. 
 
 The poet was born at Karlsruhe on the i6th of 
 February, 1826, in the three-story dwelling-house, 
 No. 25 Steinstrasse. Shortly after Captain Scheffel 
 bought — apparently with his wife's money — a 
 handsome mansion, standing in ample grounds on 
 Stefanenstrasse, one of the best streets of the city. 
 There were two other children born to the Scheffel 
 family: Marie, — a beautiful and gifted girl, whose 
 early death cast a life-long gloom over the poet's 
 soul, — and a younger brother, physically and men- 
 tally a weakling. 
 
 At school the boy found little help toward mental 
 culture. The Karlsruhe Lyceum was a dry-as-dust 
 institution, paying more attention to mere facts and 
 dates than to the deeper things of life. Neverthe- 
 less, he there gained a thorough training in the classi- 
 cal languages. Joseph Victor was regarded as a 
 pattern scholar. He learned easily, and therefore 
 had time to spare, and this time he spent in his fav-
 
 xii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 orite occupation of drawing. His appearance is thus 
 described by one of his fellow students : — 
 
 " He had long light yellow hair, and small delicate 
 features, — rather girlish in fact ; so much so, even at 
 the university, that once, when he dressed himself up 
 as a waitress, none of his friends recognized him 
 until he drained a Schoppen in his own peculiar way." 
 
 In 1843 he went to the University of Munich, 
 where, according to his father's wish, he enrolled 
 among the students of law. His second year he 
 studied at Heidelberg, and he began to take more 
 interest in the Weinschiuel^^cnium, — the wine-swilling 
 student life, — of which he became poet-laureate, than 
 in the dry lore of the law. It was a city of jolly 
 fellows, many of them old Suabian friends ; in his 
 special club, " Alemannia," there were quickly en- 
 rolled forty members. Here he found stimulus 
 to write the wonderfully popular student- and drink- 
 ing-songs which are the delight of the German youth. 
 His third year he spent in Berlin, and seems to have 
 studied there more diligently; but in 1847 he was 
 back in Heidelberg again, and taking part in the wild 
 gayeties of the students : his parents began to won- 
 der what was to be the outcome of it all. Warning 
 letters were sent to him, but to little avail. 
 
 One day he had been to a " Kneipe," or Beerhouse, 
 in the suburbs, and was returning to town with his 
 rollicking companions. His father stepped off the 
 same train: "It was a depressing meeting for the
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH XI 11 
 
 old gentleman," said Scheffel. A few days later his 
 father's servant appeared, and said laconically : — 
 
 " I am come to help you pack up." 
 
 The poet, with characteristic philosophy, acqui- 
 esced, and put the episode into a jolly parody, 
 beginning, — 
 
 O Heidelberg^ o Heidelberg^ 
 Du wunderschones Nest, — 
 
 whereof two or three of the stanzas may be ren- 
 dered : — 
 
 My father, my father 
 
 Seized paper and a pen : — 
 ** My son, take off your student cap 
 
 And come right home again. 
 
 " Upstairs here, upstairs here, 
 
 There is a chamber small / 
 ' T is there that yon must sticdy 
 • In books both short and tally 
 
 My mother, her tears flowsd : — 
 
 " O//, hasten home, iny child; 
 Yoic '' re getting into mischief 
 
 With all those students ■wild.'''' 
 
 I wept and begged and pleaded. 
 
 But all to no avail ; 
 And so good-bye^ Frankonians, 
 
 Good-bye, ye Freshmen hale ! 
 
 At home he devoted himself laudably to the dry 
 study of Roman law, but consoled himself by hiding 
 the poems of old Hafiz behind his folios ; and his 
 poetic impulse was aroused also by new acquaintance
 
 XIV BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 with Shakespeare, and he with other gay young men 
 formed a Falsta£f-Club, in which he bore the desig- 
 nation of Pistol. 
 
 Even before this time the young student had been 
 desperately in love with a cousin, Emma Heine, the 
 daughter of a prosperous apothecary. She was 
 finishing her education in Karlsruhe, and he saw 
 much of her ; but she was unwilling to wait for him, 
 and married a young business man. It was in 
 memory of her that he wrote his most admired song, 
 the twelfth in "Young Werner's Songs," in " Der 
 Trompeter," each verse of which ends with the 
 refrain, — 
 
 Behuet dich Goit ! es war'' zii schon gewesen, 
 Bchiiet dich^Goti ! es hat nicht sollen sem, — 
 
 which throbs with the pathos of disappointed love. 
 Under his father's roof he prepared for the public 
 legal examination, which he passed with credit, and 
 immediately began his duties as a practitioner. At 
 the beginning of 1850 he went as Docto?' Juris and 
 Amtsrevisor to Sakkingen, a little Black Forest town 
 with all manner of mediaeval memories, with its 
 Rhine-mirrored Church of S. Fridolin enshrining the 
 bones of the founder, with its ancient monastery and 
 nunnery, — so celebrated during tlie Middle Ages, 
 when members of noble and even royal families 
 were educated there, — with its quaint population, 
 centuries behind the rest of the world. While there 
 engaged in his official duties, he unconsciously was
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH XV 
 
 laying the foundations for the poem which made the 
 "town famous. 
 
 But his heart was not in the law ; his home letters 
 give delightful pictures of his daily life, and if there 
 were space it would be interesting to quote the one 
 which describes his visit to a neighboring village in 
 search of possible pretty cousins, but diverted by 
 meeting with a former Berlin companion, with whom 
 he engaged in a drinking-bout that has become his- 
 toric. ■ In July he took a vacation, and visited Switz- 
 erland, writing amusing letters, many of which are 
 preserved. 
 
 In the following March, Dr. Scheffel suffered 
 arrest for being engaged in some rather noisy gather- 
 ing, and as the arrest was wholly illegal, he felt com- 
 pelled to challenge the military captain who had 
 ordered it. The affair got wind, and came to Schef- 
 fel's father, who appealed to the Baden Ministry of 
 War, and amends were finally made to the young 
 poet ; but although the affair reads like an act in a 
 comic opera, it left a very disagreeable impression 
 on his mind, and only hastened his ultimate release 
 from the chains of the law. 
 
 Meantime his stay in Sakkingen, and especially 
 his contact with the primitive Alemannian people, 
 known as Holzenwiilder, or Hauensteiner, who were 
 in every respect — dialect, thought, and dress — a 
 relic of the Middle Ages, began to attract his atten- 
 tion to archaeology, and he wrote his first literary
 
 xvi BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 work, " Aus dem Hauensteiner Schwarzwald,'' which 
 appeared two years later. He also exercised his art 
 of painting in this wonderfully picturesque region. 
 He and his sister Marie made many sketches of the 
 beautiful " Strohlbrusch " cascade and other land- 
 scapes " in the Forest.'' 
 
 The temptations of art were too strong for him 
 to resist longer : he rebelled against the bureaucratic 
 spirit of his office, and at last, in September, 1851, 
 he broke the bonds and flew away. First he visited 
 the Graubiindner Alps, " where only the marmot 
 whistles in the crevices, and the chamois skips over 
 immeasurable snow-fields and glaciers." Here he 
 began those " Pictures of Travel " (" Reisebilder ") 
 which were published in an Augsburg journal. His 
 friend and companion. Professor Hausser, wrote 
 some of the letters, but Scheffel's are easily distin- 
 guishable by their peculiar humor. 
 
 In May, 1852, having been formally released from 
 his service, he started for Italy, to become, as he sup- 
 posed, a painter. In fact, he began earnest study 
 of the art under Ernsl Willers at Rome ; but fate 
 willed otherwise. Italy caused to bloom in his soul 
 the ever-ready flowers of poesy. In spite of his 
 enjoyment of art, in spite of his intercourse with 
 a brilliant set of young painters, he found himself 
 drawn rather to the sister art, and his first great 
 work began to claim him : "It was in Rome," he 
 says ; " heavy lay the winter on the seven-hilled city,
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xvil 
 
 and the rain was never done. Then arose like a 
 dream the Schwarzwald before my eyes, and the 
 story of the young Spielmann Werner and the beau- 
 teous Margaretha. . . . Now like a man whose ear 
 suddenly rings, as a sign that they at home are 
 thinking of him, so I heard sounding ttie peal of 
 Werner's trumpet through the Roman winter, through 
 the flower sport of the Carnival. Far distant at 
 first it rang, then near and nearer." And at last 
 the songs took shape in this inimitable poem, " Der 
 Trompeter von Sakkingen." It was finished in 
 April, 1853, on the Island of Capri. In this is to be 
 read much that is autobiographical, especially in 
 those cantos where the scene of the poem is trans- 
 ferred to Rome. 
 
 He was called home by the illness of his beloved 
 sister Marie, who had just broken her engagement 
 to a young officer greatly respected by her parents 
 but repugnant to her. Scheffel's father saw in his 
 son's failure to make the most of his opportunities 
 as a painter fresh proofs of his unworthiness, and 
 the situation became very trying. He wrote to his 
 friend Schwanitz : — 
 
 " I am now living in the unendurable position of a 
 man who has no ground under my feet. I will not 
 return to the civil service ; I am too old to be a 
 painter; — nothing is apparently left me except to 
 be a Privatdozettt and Proletarier at Heidelberg. 
 Tinie may bring counsel. ... I have been happy 
 for a year, and I will console myself with that." 
 VOL. \. — b
 
 xviii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 He went to Heidelberg, and there, under the 
 impulse of association with rollicking friends, who 
 belonged to a sort of club called " Der Engere," 
 he wrote most of the songs, published in collected 
 form in 1868, under the title of "Gaudeamus." 
 Even befofe they were published, they were spread 
 on the wings of music all over the land. They had 
 that same lyrical spontaneity and freshness, that 
 same brilliant wit which flashed and glowed in the 
 gems of " Der Trompeter." They are the very folk- 
 songs of the student world. 
 
 But while enjoying these lyrical excursions, his 
 mind was bent on something more dominant. He 
 himself tells us in the preface to " Ekkehard " how 
 he was led to write that historical novel. He may 
 have had his friend Paul Heyse's encouragement. 
 He found his materials at hand in the university 
 library; but also he was under the spell of those 
 scenes which he pictured in such living colors. In 
 Februar}% 1855, it was finished, and in June it was 
 published by Meidinger, at Frankfurt. His honora- 
 rium was 1200 gulden. 
 
 With this money he went back to Italy, in com- 
 pany with his friend the artist Anselm Feuerbach. 
 At Venice, where they worked together in spite of 
 the heat of the summer and the danger of cholera, 
 the idea arose in his mind of writing a new novel, of 
 which the heroine was to be Titian's beautiful pupil, 
 Irene di Spilimbergo, who died in 1559 at the early
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xix 
 
 age of twenty, having already acquired fame, not 
 only as a painter but as a poet and a musician. 
 
 Both of the young men were worn to shadows; 
 and at last, in August, they fled to Castell Toblino, 
 not far from the beautiful Lago di Garda. 
 
 Here Scheffel tried to conjure into deathless form 
 the visions which had haunted him. But it was 
 in vain. That mental disease which cast its petri- 
 fying gloom over his life had already begun its in- 
 roads. He wrote a few new " Reisebilder," with no 
 special thought of their publication, but simply for 
 the delectation of his Heidelberg club. But some 
 of his friends urged him to publish them, and they 
 came out in 1856 in the Frankfurter Museum^ under 
 the title, " Unter den Tridentinischen Alpen;" but 
 they were never finished, in spite of the legend, " To 
 be continued." And neither was the great Venetian 
 romance ever materiaHzed. What a delightful book 
 it would have been could Scheffel have communi- 
 cated to it all the glow and life of his early enthusi- 
 astic days in Italy ! 
 
 His illness at first took the form of a severe in- 
 flammation of the eyes, and he found himself unable 
 to work at all. Prolss denies that his illnesses were 
 in any way the result of his dissipations in Heidel- 
 berg, and attributes his brain-sufferings first to he- 
 redity, and secondly to the peculiar trials which bore 
 heavily on his mental constitution. His physician 
 confirmed this judgment, saying, " Bier and wein had
 
 XX BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 nothing whatever to do with it." He was brought 
 home to his father's house in a wretched condition 
 mentally and physically. And life there also had 
 little to cheer him. The fathers health was failing, 
 the mother's cheerful nature turned to sadness, the 
 lovely sister heartbroken. '• Oh, if you knew what 
 we have gone through," wrote Frau Scheffel to Arns- 
 wald, " you would pity us ! " 
 
 Even after the pubhc and most of the critics 
 had given a warm reception to "Ekkehard," Major 
 Scheffel wrote to a friend expressing his fear that 
 Joseph would be tempted to choose literature for a 
 profession. Truly, as the son pathetically said, he 
 had endured many hard hours in conflict with his 
 father, who could not endure to see him out of a 
 salary-secured position in the State's service. 
 
 The poet's health began slowly to improve; but 
 in the following May, 1856, in what he calls a fit of 
 desperation, he took a journey to Southern France, 
 where he added malaria to his bodily ailments. The 
 only literary results of the journey were three more 
 brilliant, vivid " Reisebilder," and a sketch of a 
 novel concerning the Albigenses in the thirteenth 
 century. Felix Dahn read a chapter of it, and de- 
 clared that it was the most beautiful and absorbing 
 of all Scheffel's writings. That also remained a 
 mere torso. 
 
 He visited Avignon, the French home of the 
 Popes, Tarascon (afterwards famous as the resi-
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxi 
 
 dence of the great Tartarin), Aries, Nice, and the 
 Riviera. At Bordighiera he hung between Hfe and 
 death ; but even then the pecuHar irony and wit of 
 the poet — that perpetual bright companion of moody 
 minds — did not fail him ; and he wrote his fascinat- 
 ing poem, " Heimkehr," which, as mych as any of 
 his verse, allies him with Heine. 
 
 He finally returned home by way of Genoa and 
 the Gotthard, stopping also for a brief visit at Sak- 
 kingen, where his heart was warmed by the friendli- 
 ness of his reception. 
 
 He obtained some relief at the lovely Kniebisbad 
 Rippoldsau in the Black Forest; and after his return 
 in September he decided to go to Miinich, where he 
 was invited by his friend Eisenhart, private secretary 
 of King Max II. 
 
 He was to be one of the editors of " Bavaria," a 
 work in which the king took the keenest interest. 
 Here he found a wide circle of brilliant young poets 
 and painters, who received him as a friend and 
 brother. 
 
 Life began to glow before him again. His sister 
 came to live with him there. She was the very 
 model for the heroine of his " Venetian," which he 
 once more began to evolve. She was a fascinating 
 creature, " slender and tall as a Black Forest fir-tree ; 
 beautiful, with splendid golden-brown coils of hair, 
 and heart-winning, irresistible charm of body and 
 soul ; genuine, profound, poetical, without a trace of
 
 XXll BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 sentimentality; full of rich, piquant humor, of in- 
 comparable feeling, and friendliness and loveliness 
 in every motion, in voice, in the flashing of her soul- 
 ful dark-brown eyes, shaded by their long lashes." 
 She came like his guardian angel, and was also wel- 
 comed into tli# glorious circle of his friends. 
 
 Typhus fever broke out in Miinich in February, 
 and the lovely sister was one of its victims. It was 
 a blow from which the brother never recovered. His 
 mother wrote : " Oh, and poor Joseph — in her he 
 has lost his sister, his friend in sickness and in 
 health, his adviser, his best comrade, his ideal of pure 
 womanhood, his guardian angel ! " He blamed him- 
 self for the catastrophe, and could not be consoled. 
 He gave up all his Miinich plans and returned to 
 live with his parents. His little tale " Hugideo," 
 which he wrote the next summer, was a sort of me- 
 morial of his beloved lost sister and friend. 
 
 The following year he accepted, for a year's trial, 
 the position of ducal librarian at Donaueschin- 
 gen, with the duty of ^rearranging and cataloguing 
 the 273 MSS. and twelve thousand volumes, at a 
 salary of eight hundred gulden. And almost imme- 
 diately after he had thus bound himself came a most 
 pressing invitation from the Grand Duke of Saxe- 
 Weimar to make his home at the splendid castle of 
 the Wartburg, there to write a something IVartburg- 
 indssiges, worthy of the historic place, with Walther 
 von der Vogelvveide and Wolfram von Eschenbach
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH XXIU 
 
 as the heroes, — the semi-historical song contest of 
 1208, — a fine subject for the antiquarian poet. He 
 had already met the Grand Duke at Miinich, and had 
 enjoyed a short visit at the castle, and a trip through 
 the beautiful Thuringian region, and the plan of the 
 romance was filling his mind. Here again Fate was 
 unkind; this work, like so many other of his pro- 
 jected masterpieces, was never realized. 
 
 In spite of his disappointment, he took hold of 
 the library work in the little city at the sources of 
 the Danube — ad fontes Da?iubn — with zeal, and 
 described himself as burrowing like a Hamster in 
 the old folios and parchments. But it was a rather 
 lonely life : the illness of the Princess Elizabeth of 
 Fiirstenberg forbade any convivialities at court ; but 
 he made a few friends, — among them the composer 
 Kalliwoda, — and helped to establish a litde club 
 called " Der Heilige," at which his easily stimulated 
 gayety shone brightly. Some of his letters to his 
 Heidelberg friends show him to have recovered a fair 
 measure of good spirits. Here is an example of a re- 
 ply to a letter of inquiry : — , 
 
 *'y^rt^quesUon i : Is the man still alive.'* 
 
 Answer : Yes, but weakly. 
 
 .^^ question 2: Can he write.'* 
 
 Answer : Yes, but weakly. 
 
 Ad question 3 : How does it go with him ? 
 
 Answer : As with Ovid when he was exiled to the 
 Pontus. Drinks much bier. Makes long pedes-
 
 XX iv BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 trian excursions into Wutachthal, Gauchachthal, Bri- 
 gachthal. Discovers Celtic stone walls on remote 
 mountain peaks. Has dealings with revisors and 
 audit-officers. Is fireman in the city fire-brigade, 
 and by diploma dated March, has been elected 
 honorary member of the revived Pegnesischer Schd- 
 ferordcn of Nuremberg. 
 
 Ad question 4: Is he tormenting himself with 
 plans for a new book ? 
 
 Answer: Alas, yes. 
 
 ^^ question 5 : Will it be out soon? 
 
 Answer: Alas, no." 
 
 But in spite of these gay letters he was suffering 
 from inward loneliness, and his tendency to melan- 
 choly was exaggerated ; on the whole, the winter at 
 the library was sad and gloomy. 
 
 In the summer, after having in his usual laborious 
 way studied all sorts of authorities, he actually be- 
 gan the Meistersinger romance, which was to be en- 
 titled " Viola ; " but a spirit of wandering came over 
 him, and he travelled quite widely, taking part in the 
 Jubilee of Jena University, sauntering through the 
 old cities of Belgium and even visiting Paris. A few 
 beautiful poems only mark this period of unrest ! 
 
 The sixth question in the letter above quoted was: 
 " Is he in love ? " 
 
 It is said that Scheffel, during his stay at Donau- 
 esching, found himself greatly attracted by a young 
 lady at the court, and his personal experiences are
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH XX V 
 
 believed to be paralleled in his " Juniperus, the Story 
 of a Crusader," which was printed in 1868, but was 
 at first intended as a part of " Viola." 
 
 He was anxious to be released from his library du- 
 ties, but the Duke, who was greatly pleased with his 
 diligent labors, desired him to continue them ; and 
 it was not until April, 1859, that the release came. 
 A bitter disappointment in regard to a beautiful girl 
 in Heidelberg to whom he offered himself had also 
 an evil effect upon him ; yet he gives in a letter to 
 Arnswald a serio-comic description of his discom- 
 fiture : how he had taken the advance fortifications, 
 then attacked the enemy, but had been driven back, 
 singed with Greek fire . . . flung into the ditch sorely 
 wounded, — now retreating with drooping colors, with 
 all lost except his honor and his art. 
 
 Apparently there was some mistake, for he adds : 
 " Later there was repentance, for it is my fate first 
 to be scorned, then to be sought after; but whoever 
 has once said 'No' to Meister Josephus, finds that 
 the said Meister Josephus will never say * Yes ' in 
 return, not even if all the bones of the world should 
 break, and so ends that episode forever." 
 
 In May, i860, he made a journey to Salzburg, and 
 the Salzkammergut, where he found his inspiration 
 for the Bergpsalmen which were published ten years 
 later. He was again invited to the Wartburg to 
 finish the book the promise of which was now three 
 years unfulfilled, but he was obliged again to decline.
 
 XXVI BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 A morbid state of mind was growing upon him, lead- 
 ing him to distrust people and to seek solitude. At 
 the same time his feelings were deeply hurt by the 
 news that the Heidelberg girl who had jilted him 
 was engaged to another man. He saw also in the 
 proceedings of the Weimar circle, in the attitude of 
 Liszt and the Princess Wittgenstein, even in the 
 words of his old friend Arnswald, humiliating neglect. 
 
 In November his mother wrote a friend that his 
 mental disease was pitiable. One day he suddenly 
 disappeared from home, and nothing was heard of 
 him till a telegram came from Switzerland stating 
 that he was near Basel, seriously ill with brain fever. 
 He imagined that emissaries of the Grand Duke of 
 Weimar, his former patron, were constantly on his 
 track, and he had conceived the plan of becoming 
 a member of the Carthusian Monastery in Southern 
 France. ' 
 
 Good care and the fortunate arrival of a letter from 
 the Grand Duke assuring him of his good-will had 
 their effect, and within two days after his mother's 
 arrival she was able to write that Joseph was him- 
 self again, and the " Tasso-fate " a thing of the past. 
 
 The promise to the Duke weighed on his mind 
 like a mountain, and only when he was formally 
 released from it did anything like joy return to his 
 heart. He spent half a year in a Swiss health-resort 
 on the Hallwyler See, and in March, 1861, was able 
 to write portnui hiveni, — "I have found the haven."
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH XXVli 
 
 Shortly after his return home, Meidlinger, the 
 pubhsher of " Ekkehard," failed, and Otto Janke 
 purchased the copyright. As Scheffel, out of friend- 
 ship, had given it to Meidlinger "for a song," and 
 the contract was to be binding for fifteen years, the 
 change of ownership was a disappointment to him ; 
 and in order to recover it he engaged in a law-suit, 
 which dragged along till 1870, when the contract 
 came to its natural termination. Then " Ekkehard" 
 was given to Bonz, — of the well-known Metzler'sche 
 Buchhandlung, in Stuttgart, — the publisher of his 
 other works. 
 
 The historical novel was never finished, but in 
 1863 he prepared for the press a collection of poems, 
 many of which had been prepared for "Viola." It 
 was published in June, 1863, under the title " Frau 
 Aventiure." He was especially led to publish it 
 by a. harmless report which had appeared in the 
 Koburger Zeitung referring to his mental trouble, 
 and which had incensed him to such a degree that 
 he sent a challenge to the anonymous writer. 
 
 In the following December he became engaged to 
 Fraulein Caroline von Malzen-Tillburg, daughter of 
 the Bavarian minister at Karlsruhe. The wedding 
 took place in August, and the poet took his bride, 
 by way of the Italian lakes, to Seon on the Hall- 
 wyler See, where they established themselves in a 
 pretty villa. His happiness was of short duration: 
 first his mother died suddenly ; then, shortly after the
 
 XXV 111 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 birth of his son Viktor in May, 1867, the poet and 
 wife separated. Scheffel's antipathy to all conven- 
 tional society, his extreme irritability and quick 
 temper, his inclination to loneliness, his peculiar 
 mental condition, all contributed to render him a 
 trying companion to a sensitive and not wholly sym- 
 pathetic woman. " An estrangement, a coldness 
 arose," said Scheffel, " God only knows how." 
 
 Prolss denies that Scheffel was a deep drinker, in 
 spite of the reputation that he had earned by his 
 convivial poems. These were brought out in 186S, 
 and won the greatest popularity. 
 
 There is little more to tell of Scheffel's life except 
 a chronicle of pathetic darkness, occasionally light- 
 ened by the brilHant flashes of his ever-ready wit, 
 rendered all the brighter by his melancholy. In 
 1 87 1 he acquired a piece of garden-land on the 
 shores of Lake Constance, near Radolfzell, where he 
 built a modest villa, and there spent his summers 
 during the rest of his hfe. In 1876 he bought the 
 neighboring Mettnau, on which he built a stately 
 tower connected with the fine old mansion. His 
 time was mainly spent in superintending the educa- 
 tion of his son. He regarded his poetic career as 
 ended : " I have become a farmer," he wrote, " and 
 have no other ambition." 
 
 On his fiftieth birthday, in 1876, the whole nation 
 took part in paying him honor: he was made honor- 
 ary citizen of Vienna, Gratz, and Prague ; the Grand
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH xxix 
 
 Duke of Baden raised him to the nobility ; Prince 
 Bismarck sent him congratulations. As for the 
 "Von" which he was now able to add to his name, 
 he was glad for his son's sake ; he had himself 
 written, twenty-three years before, — 
 
 He who is ennobled by his art 
 Needs no such useless ornaments 
 
 Ten years later, when Heidelberg celebrated its 
 five-hundred year jubilee, he, its poet laureate, was 
 too ill to take delight in it ; and when, on his sixtieth 
 birthday, the old castle was illuminated in his honor 
 and the tones of his own Rodenstein songs came 
 floating down to him, he stood behind his closed 
 window shedding bitter tears. A little latter, on 
 April 9, 1886, at seven p. m., he died in Karlsruhe, 
 after terrible sufferings. 
 
 No other German writer has excelled Von Schef- 
 fel in popularity. It has been estimated that four 
 hundred thousand copies of " Ekkehard," " Gaude- 
 amus," and " Der Trompeter," were sold before his 
 death. Since then there has been no diminution in 
 the popularity of his works. *' Ekkehard " has taken 
 its place as one of the great historical novels of all 
 time: it is full of undying beauty, and appeals to 
 readers of every nationality. Von Scheffel, the poet 
 of the little Alemannian land, has become one of the 
 world-poets. 
 
 NATHAN HASKELL DOLE,
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 This book was written in the firm belief that neither 
 history nor poetry will lose anything by forming a 
 close alliance and uniting their strength by working 
 together. 
 
 For the last thirty years or so the legacy of our 
 ancestors has been the subject of universal investi- 
 gation. A swarm of busy moles have undermined 
 the ground of the Middle Ages in all directions, and 
 produced by their untiring industry such a quantity 
 of old material as to surprise even the collectors 
 themselves. 
 
 A whole literature beautiful and perfect in itself, 
 an abundance of monuments of the plastic art, a 
 well organized political and social life, lies spread out 
 before our eyes. And yet, in spite of all the good 
 work expended on this subject, wider circles are as 
 yet practically unacquainted with the pleasure of 
 this historical knowledge. The numberless volumes 
 stand quietly on the shelves of our libraries. Here 
 and there prosperous spiders have begun to spin
 
 xxxii THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 their cobwebs ; and the pitiless, all-covering dust has 
 come too : so that it is hardly improbable that all 
 this old German splendor, but just conjured back 
 into life, may one morning at cock-crow fade away 
 and be buried in the dust and mouldering rub- 
 bish of the Past, — like that weird cloister by the 
 lake, the existence of which is betrayed only by 
 the faint low tinkle of the bell, deep, deep under 
 the waters. 
 
 This is not the place to examine how far this 
 result is attributable to the ways and methods of 
 our learning. 
 
 The accumulation of antiquarian lore, as well as 
 the accumulation of gold, may become a passion, 
 which collects and scrapes together for the sake and 
 pleasure of acquisition, quite forgetting that the 
 metal which has been won needs to be purified, re- 
 melted, and put to use. For otherwise w^hat do we at- 
 tain by it ? Perpetual confinement within the narrow 
 limits of the rough material ; an equal valuation of 
 the unimportant and the important ; an unwilling- 
 ness ever to finish and conclude anything, because 
 here and there some scrap might still be added 
 which would lend a new significance to the subject ; 
 — and, finally, a literature of scholars for scholars, 
 w^hich the majority of the nation pass by wuth indif- 
 ference, and with a look at the blue sky thank their 
 Creator that they need read nothing of it. 
 
 The writer of this book, in the sunny days of his
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. xxxiii 
 
 youth once took a ramble with some friends through 
 the Roman Campagna. There they stumbled on 
 the remains of an old monument, and among other 
 rubbish and fragments there lay, half hidden by 
 gray-green acanthus leaves, a heap of mosaic stones 
 which had formerly been a fine picture, with grace- 
 ful ornaments, adorning the pavement of the tomb. 
 
 A lively discussion arose as to what all the dis- 
 persed little cubes might have represented when they 
 formed one piece. One, a student of archaeology, 
 took up some of the pieces to examine whether they 
 were black or white marble. A second, who tor- 
 mented himself with historical investigations, talked 
 very learnedly about ancient sepulchres ; — mean- 
 while a third had quietly sat down on the old wall, 
 taken out his sketch-book, and depicted a fine char- 
 iot, with four prancing steeds, and charioteers, and 
 around it some handsome Ionic ornaments. He 
 had discovered in a corner of the pavement some 
 insignificant remains of tlie old picture, — horses' feet 
 and fragments of a chariot wheel, — and at once the 
 whole design stood clearly before his mind, and he 
 dashed it down with a few bold strokes while the 
 others were dealing in words merely . . . 
 
 This little incident may serve to throw some light 
 on the question how one can work with success at 
 the historical resurrection of the Past. Surely this 
 can be done only when a creative, reproducing ima- 
 gination is given its full scope ; when he who digs 
 
 VOL. I. — c
 
 XXXIV THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 out the old bodies breathes upon them the breath of 
 a living soul, so that they may rise and walk about 
 like the resuscitated dead. 
 
 In this sense the historical novel may become 
 what epic poetry was in the time of the blooming 
 youth of the nations, — a piece of national histor\', 
 in the conception of the artist, who within a certain 
 space shows us a series of distinctly drawn, clearly 
 colored figures, in whose individual lives and striv- 
 ings and sufferings the life and substance of the 
 time in which they lived is reflected as in a mirror. 
 
 Erected on the basis of historical studies and 
 embracing the beautiful and important part of an 
 epoch, the historical novel may well claim to be the 
 twin brother of history ; and those who with a shrug 
 of their shoulders incline to reject it as the produc- 
 tion of an arbitrary and falsifying caprice, will please 
 to remember that history as it is generally written 
 is also but a traditional conglomeration of true and 
 false, which merely by its greater clumsiness is pre- 
 vented from filling up the occasional gaps as the 
 more graceful poesy can do. 
 
 Unless all signs deceive us, our present time is in 
 a peculiar state of transition. 
 
 In all branches of knowledge the perception is 
 gaining ground how unspeakably our thinking and 
 feeling have been damaged by the supremacy of the 
 Abstract and of Phraseology. Here and there we 
 see efforts made to return from dry, colorless ab-
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE XXXV 
 
 stractions, to the tangible, living, glowing Concrete ; 
 in place of idle self-contemplation, close relations 
 with life and the present ; in place of hackneyed for- 
 mulas and patterns, analysis of nature ; and in place 
 of criticism, creative productivity : and our grand- 
 children may yet live to see the day when people 
 will speak of many a former colossus of science with 
 the same smiling veneration as of the remains of 
 a gigantic antediluvian animal ; and when one may 
 avow, without fear of being cried down as a barba- 
 rian, that in a jug of good old wine there is as 
 much wisdom as in many a voluminous production 
 of dry dialectics. 
 
 To the restitution of a serene, candid, poetic view 
 of things the following work would fain contribute, 
 and that by taking its materials out of our German 
 Past. 
 
 Among the vast collection of valuable materials 
 enclosed in the big folios of the " Momcmefita Ger- 
 7Ha7iicE " by Pertz, gleam like a rosary of pearls the 
 chronicles of the monastery of St. Gall, which the 
 monk Ratpert began, and Ekkehard the younger 
 (called also the fourth, to distinguish him from three 
 other members of the cloister bearing the same 
 name) continued till the end of the tenth century. 
 
 Whoever has painfully worked through the unedi- 
 fying, dry-as-dust, pettifogging chronicles of other 
 monasteries, will linger over these notes with real 
 pleasure and inward delight. There one finds, in
 
 xxxvi THE AUTHOR'S TREFACE 
 
 spite of manifold prejudices and awkwardnesses, an 
 abundance of graceful and interesting tales taken 
 from the traditions of elder contemporaries and from 
 accounts of eye-witnesses. Persons and events are 
 drawn with rough but distinct lineaments, while a 
 sort of unconscious poetry-, a thoroughly honest and 
 genuine view of Hfe and the world, a naive freshness, 
 puts a stamp of genuineness on everj-thing that is 
 told, — even if persons and times are somewhat friv- 
 olously mixed together, and tangible anachronisms 
 cause not the slightest uneasiness to the chronicler. 
 
 Quite unintentionally those sketches lead one far 
 beyond the boundaries of the cloister- walls, paint- 
 ing the life and ways, the education and customs, of 
 the Alema7tnic country * as it then was, with all the 
 fidelity of a picture painted from nature. 
 
 It was a pleasant time then in the southwestern 
 part of Germany, and every one who prefers a vigorous 
 and healthy, though rough and imperfect, strength to 
 a certain varnished finish, will enjoy it. The begin- 
 nings of Church and State amid a common people, 
 rather rough but good-natured; the feudal spirit, so 
 pernicious in all its later development, but harmless 
 as yet in its first stage of existence ; no supercilious, 
 overbearing knighthood, no wanton, ignorant priest- 
 
 * The^/^;«««;z/Vland, or Alcmanjiia ?is\t was then called, con- 
 sisted of part of the present Wiirtemberg, Baden, andLothringen ; 
 where a dialect called " Aleinannisch " has been preserved to 
 the present day. [Hebel is its poet laureate.]
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE XXXVU 
 
 hood as yet, but rough, plain-spoken, honest fel- 
 lows, whose social intercourse frequently consisted 
 in an extended system of verbal and real injuries, 
 but who, under their coarse husk, hid an excellent 
 kernel; susceptible of all good and noble things;, 
 scholars who in the morning translate Aristotle into 
 German, and go wolf-hunting in the evening ; noble 
 ladies, full of enthusiasm for the old classics ; peas- 
 ants in whose memory the old heathen beliefs of 
 their forefathers still exist, unimpaired and side by 
 side with the new creed, — everywhere primitive but 
 vigorous conditions under which one feels inclined 
 without contempt or rationalistic wrath to put up 
 even with sprites and hobgoblins. 
 
 In spite of political discord and a certain indiffer- 
 ence toward the empire, of which Saxony had be- 
 come the central point, there was much gallant, 
 manly courage to meet misfortunes, inspiring even 
 monks in their cells to exchange the breviary for the 
 sword and to resist the Hungarian invasion; and 
 although there was abundant opportunity^ for relapsing 
 into barbarism, still there was serious study, together 
 with much enthusiasm for the classics, in the monas- 
 tery-schools, overflowing with zealous disciples ; and 
 the humane principles taught there remind one of the 
 best times in the sixteenth century. The plastic arts 
 were beginning to show some signs of life, — occa- 
 sional flashing up of eminent minds, frank pleasure 
 in poetry amid the wilderness of learning, a cheerful
 
 XXXviii THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 culture of national history, even though for the most 
 part dressed up in outlandish garb. 
 
 No wonder, then, that the author of this book, 
 when making other researches concerning the first 
 stages of the Middle Ages, chancing to meet with 
 those chronicles, felt like a man who, after long 
 wanderings through a barren, unfertile land, comes 
 suddenly upon a comfortable wayside inn, which, 
 with excellent kitchen and cellar and a lovely view 
 from the windows, offers all that heart can desire. 
 
 So he began to settle down in that cosey nook, and, 
 by dihgently exploring the surrounding land, to gain 
 the best possible knowledge of the country and 
 people who lived in it. 
 
 But the poet meets with a peculiar fate when try- 
 ing to acquaint himself with the Past. Where others, 
 into whose veins Nature has instilled some of the aqua 
 fortis of learning, eat out many an abstract theory, 
 and a quantity of instructive deductions, as the 
 result of their labors, to him appear a host of figures, 
 at first surrounded by floating mists, but gradually 
 becoming clearer and clearer; and they look at him 
 with pleading eyes, dance around his couch in mid- 
 night hours, and always whisper to him, " Put us into 
 poetry." 
 
 Thus it was here. Out of the naive Latin lines of 
 those monastery tales arose the towers and walls of 
 the monastery of St. Gall. Scores of gray-headed, 
 venerable friars wandered up and down in the an-
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE XXXIX 
 
 cient corridors ; behind the old manuscripts sat those 
 who had once written them ; the cloister-pupils played 
 merrily in the courtyard ; from the choir rose the 
 midnight chant, and from the tower the clear sound 
 of the watchman's horn. 
 
 But clearer than all oth^r forms stood out in 
 dazzling beauty that noble, haughty lady who carried 
 off the handsome young master from the quiet and 
 peace of the cloister of St. Gall to spend a season in 
 genial study of the classic poets in her rocky castle 
 overlooking the Bodensee. The simple account given 
 by the chronicler of that quiet hfe dedicated to 
 Vergil is in itself a piece of poetry as beautiful and 
 genuine as can be found anywhere. 
 
 But he who is beset by such apparitions can do 
 naught else than conjure them and compel them. 
 And I had not read in vain in the old stories how 
 " Notker the stutterer " once treated similar visions : 
 he took a strong hazel stick and belabored the 
 spectres with it until they revealed unto him their 
 finest songs.* 
 
 And so I also took to my special weapon, — the 
 steel pen, — and one morning said good-bye to the 
 old folios which had been the sources of all these 
 visionary fancies, and I t^etook myself to the ground 
 which had once been trodden by the Duchess Hadwig 
 and her contemporaries, and I sat in the venerable 
 
 * Ekkehardi IV. " Casus S. Galli, c. 3, in Pertz, " Monum." 
 II. q8.
 
 Xl THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 library of S. Gallus, and took long rows in my little 
 rocking boat over the Bodensee, and I found a nest 
 for myself under the old linden-tree that overhangs 
 the precipice of the Hohentvviel, where at the present 
 time a worthy Suabian bailiff has charge of the ruins 
 of the ancient fortress, and finally I climbed the airy 
 Alpine heights of the Santis, where the Wildkh'ch- 
 lein looks down like an eagle's eyry over the green 
 valley of Appenzell. There, in the domain of the 
 " Suabian Sea,"" mind and soul filled witli the life of 
 bygone generations, the heart refreshed by warm 
 sunshine and spicy mountain air, I first sketched 
 and then completed the greater part of this story. 
 
 That not much has been said therein which is not 
 founded on conscientious historical studies can be 
 boldly asserted, though persons and dates have some- 
 times been treated with some freedom. The poet, 
 in order to enhance the inward harmony of his work, 
 may occasionally take liberties which would be most 
 blameworthy if indulged in by the strict historian. 
 And yet the incomparable historian Macaulay him- 
 self says: "I shall cheerfully bear the reproach of 
 having descended below the dignity of history if 
 I can succeed in placing before the English of 
 the nineteenth century a true picture of the life of 
 their ancestors." 
 
 Following the advice of some competent friends, 
 I have given in an appendix some proofs and refer- 
 ences to the authorities from which I have taken my
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE xH 
 
 materials, in order to satisfy those who might other- 
 wise be inclined to treat the subject as a mere fable 
 or idle invention. Those, however, who do not 
 require these same proofs to believe in the genuine- 
 ness of the matter, are requested not to trouble them- 
 selves further with the notes, as they are otherwise 
 of Httle import, and would be quite superfluous if this 
 book did not go out into the world in the garb of 
 a novel, which is somewhat open to the suspicion of 
 playing carelessly with facts and truths. 
 
 The attacks of the critics will be received with 
 perfect imperturbability. " A tale of the tenth cen- 
 tury ? " they will exclaim. " Who rideth so late 
 through night and wind ? " And has it not been 
 printed in the last manual of our national literature, 
 in the chapter treating of the national novel : — 
 
 " If we ask which epoch in German history might 
 be best suited to combine local with national inter- 
 ests, we must begin by excluding the Middle Ages. 
 Even the times of the Hohenstaufen can be treated 
 only in a lyrical style, as all efforts in other direc- 
 tions are sure to turn out utter failures." * 
 
 All the scruples and objections of those who prefer 
 anatomizing criticism to harmless enjoyment, and 
 who spread all their canvas trying to make the 
 German spirit sail back into an Alexandrine or 
 Byzantine epoch, have already been well answered 
 by a literary lady of the tenth century, the venerable 
 
 * Diisseldorfisch.
 
 xlii THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 nun Hroswitha of Gandcrsheim. In the happy con- 
 sciousness of her own work she wrote in the preface 
 to her graceful comedies : si e?iint alicui placet viea 
 devotio, gaiidebo. si aidetn pro ?nei abiectione vel 
 pro viciosi sennoiiis ritsticitate 7mlli placet : memet 
 ipsam tamen iuvat quod feci. In Enghsh : " If any- 
 body derive pleasure from my modest productions, 
 I shall be glad ; but if on account of my self-ab- 
 negation or of the crudeness of an imperfect style it 
 please no one, then I myself shall take pleasure in 
 what I have created." 
 
 J. V. SCHEFFEL. 
 Heidelberg, February, 1855.
 
 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HADWIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUABIA. 
 
 It was almost a thousand years ago. The world 
 knew as yet nothing of gunpowder or the art of 
 printing. 
 
 Over the Hegau there hung a gloomy leaden 
 gray sky, corresponding to the mental darkness, 
 which, according to general opinion^ oppressed the 
 whole time of the middle ages. From the lake of 
 Constance white mists floated over the meads, cover- 
 ing up the whole country. Even the tower of the 
 new church at Radolfszell was thickly enveloped, 
 but the matin-bell had rung merrily through mist 
 and fog, like the words of a sensible man piercing 
 the cloudy atmosphere that fools create. 
 
 It is a lovely part of Germany which lies there, 
 between the Black Forest and the Suabian lake. All 
 those who are not too strict and particular with 
 poetical similes, may be reminded of the following 
 words of the poet : — 
 
 VOL. I. — 1
 
 2 EKKEHARD 
 
 The land of Alemannia, its mountains white with snow, 
 
 Its crystal lake of Constance, a deep blue eye aglow, 
 
 Its yellow locks, the tasselled corn, that make its meadows fair, — 
 
 Unto an honest German face this land you may compare 
 
 — though the continuation of this allegory might 
 tempt one to celebrate either of the Hegau moun- 
 tains, as the nose on the face of this country. 
 
 Sternly the summit of the Hohentwiel, with its 
 craggy points and pinnacles, rises into the air. Like 
 monuments of the stormy Past of our old mother 
 Earth rise those steep picturesque mountain-pyramids 
 from the plains which were once covered by tossing 
 waves, as the bed of the present lake is now. For 
 the fish and the water-fowl it must have been a 
 memorable day when the roaring and hissing began 
 in the depths below and the fiery basaltic masses, 
 forcing their way out of the very bowels of earth, 
 rose above the surface of the waters. 
 
 But that was long, long ago. The grass is now 
 growing above the sufferings of those who were 
 pitilessly annihilated in that mighty revolution. Only 
 the hills are there still to tell the weird tale. There 
 they stand, unconnected with their neighbors; soli- 
 tary and defiant as those who, with fiery glowing 
 hearts, break through the bars and fetters of existing 
 opinions, must always be. And their rocks ring as 
 though they had still a recollection of the glorious 
 time of their youth, when they for the first time 
 greeted this beautiful upper world. 
 
 At the time when our story begins, the Hohen- 
 twiel already bore towers and walls — a strong for- 
 tress. Here had dwelt Herr Burkhard, duke of
 
 HAD WIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUABIA 3 
 
 Suabia. He had been a valiant knight, and done 
 many a good day's fighting in his time. The 
 Emperor's enemies were also his, and so there was 
 always work to do. If everything was quiet in 
 Italy, then the Normans became troublesome, and 
 when these were fairly subdued, perhaps the Hunga- 
 rian made an invasion, or some bishop grew insolent 
 or some count refractory. In this way Herr Burk- 
 hard had spent more of his life in the saddle than 
 in the easy-chair, and it was not to be wondered 
 at that he had gained for himself a reputation for 
 harshness. 
 
 In Suabia it was said that he reigned, as it were, 
 like a tyrant ; and in far off Saxony the monks wrote 
 in their chronicles, that he had been an almost 
 " intolerable warrior." 1 
 
 Before Herr Burkhard was gathered to his fathers, 
 he had chosen a spouse for himself. This was 
 the young Frau Hadwig, daughter of the duke of 
 Bavaria. But the evening-glow of a declining life is 
 but ill matched with the light of the morning-star. 
 Such a union is against Nature's laws.^ Therefore, 
 Frau Hadwig had accepted the old duke of Suabia, 
 merely to please her father. She had nursed and 
 tended him, well, as is due to gray hairs ; but when 
 the old man laid himself down to die, grief did not 
 break her heart. 
 
 So she buried him in the vault of his ancestors," 
 erected a monument of gray sandstone to his memory, 
 placed an ever-burning lamp over his grave, and 
 sometimes, but not too often, came down there to 
 pray.
 
 4 EKKEHARD 
 
 Then Frau Hadwig lived alone in the castle of 
 Hohentwiel. She remained in possession of all the 
 landed property of her husband's famil}-, with the 
 full authority to do with it as she pleased. Besides 
 this she was lady patroness of the bishopric of 
 Constance and all the monasteries around the lake, 
 and the Emperor had given her a bill of feofment 
 signed and sealed by his own hand, by which the 
 regency of Suabia remained her own, so long as she 
 kept true to her widowhood. 
 
 The young widow had very aristocratic feelings 
 and unusual beauty. Her nose, however, was a trifle 
 short, her lovely lips were a little inclined to pout, 
 and in her boldly projecting chin, the graceful 
 dimple so becoming to women was not to be found. 
 All those whose features are thus formed, unite to 
 a clear intellect a not over tender heart, and their 
 disposition is more severe than charitable. For 
 this reason the duchess, in spite of her soft beauti- 
 ful complexion, inspired many of her subjects with a 
 peculiar fear.^ 
 
 On that misty day mentioned before, Frau Had- 
 wig was standing at one of her chamber-windows, 
 looking out into the distance. She wore a steel-gray 
 undergarment, which fell down in graceful folds on 
 her embroidered sandals ; and over this a tight-fitting 
 black tunic, reaching to the knees. In the girdle 
 encircling her waist glittered a precious beryl. Her 
 chestnut-brown hair was confined within a net of 
 gold thread, but round her clear forehead some stray 
 curls played unforbidden. 
 
 On a small marble table by the window stood a
 
 HADIVIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUAE I A 5 
 
 fantastically-shaped vessel of dark green bronze, in 
 which some foreign incense was burning, sending its 
 fragrant white little cloudlets up to the ceiling. The 
 walls were covered with many-colored finely woven 
 tapestries. 
 
 There are days when one is discontented with 
 everything, and if one were suddenly transported into 
 paradise itself, even then all would be wrong. At 
 such times the thoughts wander peevishly from this 
 to that subject, not knowing on what to fix them- 
 selves, — out of every corner grins a distorted face, 
 and he who is gifted with a very fine ear, may even 
 hear the derisive laughter of the goblins. It is a 
 belief in those parts that the perversity of such days 
 generally arises from people having sprung out of 
 bed left foot first ; to do so is held to be in direct 
 opposition to nature. 
 
 The duchess was under the. spell of such a day. 
 She wanted to look out of the window, and a sharp 
 wind blew the mist right into her face; it annoyed 
 her. She began to cough angrily. If the whole 
 country had been bathed in sunshine, she would 
 have found fault with that also. 
 
 Spazzo the chamberlain had come in and stood 
 respectfully near the entrance. He threw a compla- 
 cent look on his outward equipment, feeling sure to 
 attract his mistress's eye to-day, for he had put on 
 an embroidered shirt of finest linen and a sapphire- 
 colored upper garment, with purple border, all in the 
 latest fashion ; the bishop's tailor at Constance had 
 brought the articles over only the day before.* 
 
 The wolf-dog of the knight of Fridingen had killed
 
 6 EKKEHARD 
 
 two lambs of the ducal herd; therefore Herr Spazzo 
 intended to make his dutiful report and obtain Frau 
 Hadwig's princely opinion, whether he should con- 
 clude a peaceful agreement with the dog's master, 
 or whether he should bring in a suit at the next 
 session of the tribunal, to have him fined and sen- 
 tenced to pay damages.^ He began his speech, but 
 before he had got to the end, he saw the duchess 
 make a sign, the meaning of which could not remain 
 unintelligible to a sensible man. She put her fore- 
 finger first up to her forehead, and then pointed 
 with it to the door. So the chamberlain perceived 
 that it was left to his own wits, not only to find the 
 best expedient with regard to the lambs, — but also 
 to take himself off as quickly as possible. He bowed 
 and withdrew. 
 
 In clear tones Dame Hadwig called out now: 
 " Praxedis ! " 
 
 And when there were no sounds of footsteps 
 hurrjnng up to the room, she repeated in sharper 
 accents, " Praxedis ! " 
 
 It was not long before the person thus called 
 glided into the closet. 
 
 Praxedis was waiting-maid to the duchess of 
 Suabia. She was a Greek and a living proof that 
 the son of the Byzantine Emperor Basilius had once 
 asked the fair Hadwig's hand in marriage.^ He had 
 made a present of the clever child, well instructed in 
 music and womanly accomplishments, together with 
 many jewels and precious stones, to the German 
 duke's daughter, and in return had received a refusal. 
 At that time one could give away human beings, as
 
 HAD WIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUAE I A 7 
 
 well as buy and sell them. Liberty was not every- 
 body's birthright. But slavery such as the Greek 
 child had to endure, in the ducal castle in Suabia, 
 was not a very hard lot. 
 
 Praxedis had a small head with pale delicate 
 features ; out of which a pair of large dark eyes 
 looked into the world, unspeakably sad one moment 
 and in the next sparkling with merriment. Her 
 hair was arranged over her forehead in heavy braids. 
 She was beautiful. 
 
 "Praxedis, where is the starling?" asked Frau 
 Hadwig. 
 
 "I will bring it," rephed the Greek maid; and 
 she went and fetched the black little fellow, who 
 sat in his cage, with an important impudent air, as 
 if his existence were filling up a vast gap in the 
 universe. The starling had made his fortune at 
 Hadwig's wedding-feast. "^ An old fiddler and juggler 
 had, with infinite pains, taught him to repeat a Latin 
 wedding-speech, and great was the merriment, when 
 at the banquet the cage was set on the table, and 
 the bird said his lesson : " A new star has risen on 
 the Suabian firmament ; the star's name is Hadwig. 
 Hail, all hail ! " and so fordi. 
 
 But this was not all the knowledge which the 
 starling possessed. Besides these rhymes, he could 
 also recite the Lord's prayer. The starling was also 
 very obstinate, and had his caprices, as well as the 
 duchess of Suabia. 
 
 On this particular day, some recollection of old 
 times must have been flitting through her mind ; she 
 wanted the starling to deliver the wedding-speech.
 
 8 EKKEHARD 
 
 But the starling was in one of his pious moods, and 
 when Praxedis brought him into the chamber he 
 called out solemnly : " Amen ! " and when Frau 
 Hadwig put a piece of gingerbread into his cage, 
 and asked him in coaxing tones: "What was the 
 name of the star on the Suabian firmament, my 
 pretty one ? " — he slowly responded : " Lead us not 
 into temptation." But when she whispered to him, 
 to brighten his memory: "The stars name is 
 Hadwig, all hail ! " — then the starling, continuing in 
 his pious strain, said : " And deliver us from evil." 
 
 " What, even the birds become impudent these 
 days," exclaimed Frau Hadwig. " Pussy, where art 
 thou ?" and she enticed toward her the black cat, to 
 which the starling had long been a thorn in the 
 flesh; it came creeping up with glittering eyes. 
 
 Frau Hadwig opened the cage, and left the bird 
 to its mercy, but though the sharp claws were 
 already ruffling his plumage and had pulled out some 
 of his feathers, the starling seized a desperate chance 
 and escaped out of the open window. 
 
 Soon he had become a black speck in the mist. 
 
 " Well, now really I might as well have kept him 
 in the cage," said Frku Hadwig. " Praxedis, what 
 dost thou think?" 
 
 " My mistress is always right, whatever she does," 
 replied the Greek maiden. 
 
 "Praxedis," continued Frau Hadwig, "fetch me 
 my jewels. I wish to put on a bracelet," 
 
 So Praxedis, the ever-willing, went away, and 
 brought the duchess the casket of jewels. It was 
 made of chased silver : on it a few figures had been
 
 HAD WIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUABIA 9 
 
 embossed in coarse unfinished workmanship : the 
 Saviour as the good Shepherd, and Peter with the 
 keys, and Paul with the sword, and around these, all 
 sorts of leaf work and richly-interlaced ornamenta- 
 tion, as though it had served formerly for the keep- 
 ing of relics. It had been brought home by Herr 
 Burkhard, but he had not liked to speak about it ; 
 for he had returned about that time from a feud, 
 in which he had vanquished and heavily thrown a 
 Burgundian bishop. 
 
 When the duchess opened the casket, the rich 
 jewels glimmered and glittered beautifully on the 
 red velvet lining. As one looks at such tokens of 
 remembrance, all sorts of old memories come flock- 
 ing back. 
 
 Amongst other things there lay also the miniature 
 of the Greek Prince Constantine, painted by the 
 Byzantine master on a background of gold, in a 
 delicate, pretty and spiritless manner. 
 
 " Praxedis," said Frau Hadwig, " how would it 
 have been, if I had given my hand to that yellow- 
 cheeked, peak-nosed prince of yours .'' " 
 
 " My liege Lady," was the answer, " I am sure 
 that it would have been well." 
 
 " There now," continued Frau Hadwig, " tell me 
 something about your stupid home. I should like to 
 know what my entrance into Constantinopolis would 
 have been like." 
 
 " Oh, Princess," said Praxedis, "my home is beauti- 
 ful," — and wistfully her dark eyes gazed into the misty 
 distance, — "and such a dreary sky, at least, would 
 have been forever spared you on the Sea of Marmora.
 
 lO EKKEHARD 
 
 Even you would have uttered a cry of surprise, as 
 we approached on the proud galley : — After you 
 pass the Seven Towers, then first the dark masses, 
 the palaces, cupolas, churches, all of dazzling white 
 marble, arise from behind the island of Prokonne- 
 sos. Proudly from the blue background the stately 
 lily of the Mediterranean lifts her snowy petals; 
 here a grove of dark cypress trees, there the gigantic 
 cupola of the Hagia Sophia; on one side the long- 
 stretched promontory of the Golden Horn, and oppo- 
 site, on the Asiatic shore, another magnificent city. 
 And hke a golden blue girdle, the sea, freighted with 
 its innumerable ships, encircles this magic sight, — 
 oh, my mistress, even in my dreams far away here in 
 the Suabian land, I cannot realize the splendor of 
 that view. 
 
 " And then, when the sun has sunk down, and the 
 night steals over the glittering waves, then every- 
 thing is bathed in blue Greek fire, in honor of the 
 royal bride. Now we enter the port. The big chain 
 which usually bars it, drops down before the bridal 
 ship. Torches burn on the shore. There stand the 
 emperor's body-guard, the Warangians with their 
 two-edged battle-axes,' and the blue-eyed Normans; 
 there the patriarch with innumerable priests ; every- 
 where, music and shouts of joy, and the imperial 
 prince in the bloom of youth, welcomes his betrothed, 
 and the festal train direct their steps towards the 
 palace of Blacharnae ..." 
 
 " And all this splendor I have missed," sneered 
 Frau Hadwig. " Praxedis, thy picture is not com- 
 plete, for on the following day, comes the patriarch.
 
 HAD WIG, THE DUCHESS OF SUAE I A II 
 
 and puts the western Christian through a sharp and 
 severe course of instruction in all the heresies which 
 flourish on the barren, arid soil of your religion, like 
 deadly nightshade and henbane, — and in the monk- 
 ish pictures and the decrees of the Councils of Chal- 
 cedon and Nicasa. After him comes the mistress 
 of the ceremonies, to teach the laws of etiquette and 
 court-manners ; what expression to wear on my face, 
 and how to manage my train ; when to prostrate 
 myself before the emperor and when to embrace my 
 mother-in-law, how to treat this favorite with cour- 
 tesy, and to use this or that colossal form of speech, 
 in addressing some monster: 'If it please your Emi- 
 nence, your Highness, your subhme and adorable 
 Greatness ! ' — Whatever can be called originality 
 and natural strength is nipped in the bud, and my 
 Lord and Master turns out to be a painted doll like 
 the rest. Some fine morning the enemy appears 
 before the gates, or the successor is not to the liking 
 of the Blues and Greens of the Circus ; revolution 
 rages through the streets, and the German duke's 
 daughter is put into a convent bereft of her eyesight 
 . . . what good does it do her then, that her children 
 were addressed as their Highnesses when still in the 
 cradle? Praxedis, I know why I did not go to 
 Constantinopolis ! " 
 
 "The emperor is the Master of the universe, and 
 his will is forever just," said the Greek, " so I have 
 been taught to believe." 
 
 " Hast thou ever reflected that it is a very precious 
 boon for a man to be his own master.?" 
 
 " No," said Praxedis.
 
 12 EKKEHARD 
 
 The turn which the conversation had taken 
 pleased the duchess. 
 
 " What account of me did your Byzantine painter, 
 who was sent to take my hkeness, carry home, I 
 wonder ? " 
 
 The Greek maid seemed not to have heard the 
 question. She had risen from her seat and gone to 
 the window. 
 
 " Praxedis," said the duchess with asperity, "an- 
 swer me." 
 
 Thus questioned, Praxedis turned, round, and 
 faintly smiling said : " That was a pretty long time 
 ago, but Master Michael Thallelaios did not speak 
 over well of you. He told us that he had prepared 
 his finest colors and gold leaves, and that you were 
 a lovely child, when you were brought before him 
 to be painted, and that a thrill of awe had come over 
 him, making him feel as if he must do his very ut- 
 most, as when he painted God's holy mother for the 
 monastery of Athos. But the Princess Had wig had 
 been pleased to distort her eyes ; and when he had 
 ventured to raise a modest objection, her Grace put 
 out her tongue, held two open-spread hands to her 
 nose, and said in very 'graceful broken Greek that 
 that was the right position to be painted in. The 
 imperial court-painter profited by the occasion to 
 express his opinion about the want of manners and 
 education in German lands, and vowed that never, so 
 long as he lived, would he paint a German Fraulein. 
 And the Emperor Basilius, on hearing this account, 
 growled fiercely through his beard . . . " ^ 
 
 "Let his Majesty growl," said the duchess, "and
 
 HADlVfG, THE DUCHESS OF SUABTA 13 
 
 pray God to bestow on all others the patience which 
 I then lacked. I have not yet had an opportunity 
 of seeing a monkey, but according to all that is told 
 about them by trustworthy men, Master Michael's 
 pedigree must extend back to those members of 
 creation." 
 
 Meanwhile she had put on the bracelet. It repre- 
 sented two serpents twisted together and kissing each 
 other. On the head of each rested a tiny crown. ^ 
 from the mass of jewelry a heavy silver arrow had got 
 into her hands and it also exchanged its prison in 
 the casket for a fairer abode. It was drawn through 
 the meshes of the golden-threaded net. 
 
 As if to try the effect of the ornaments, Frau 
 Hadwig now walked with stately steps through the 
 chamber. Her attitude seemed to challenge ad- 
 miration, but the hall was empty; even the cat had 
 slunk away. There were no mirrors on the walls. 
 The arrangements for domestic comfort at that time 
 left much to be desired. 
 
 Praxedis's thoughts were still busy with the sub- 
 ject just discussed. " My gracious Mistress," said 
 she, •' I nevertheless felt very sorry for him." • 
 
 " Sorry for whom ? " 
 
 " For the emperor's son. He said that you had ap- 
 peared to him in a dream, and that all his happiness 
 depended upon you. He even shed tears ..." 
 
 " Let the dead rest," said Dame Hadwig testily. 
 " I had rather that you took your lute and sang 
 me the Greek ditty: 
 
 " * Constantine, thou foolish fellow, 
 
 Constantine, leave off thy weeping ! ' "
 
 14 EKKEHARD 
 
 " It is broken, and all the strings spoilt, since my 
 Lady Duchess pleased to ... " 
 
 " To throw it at the head of Count Boso of 
 Burgundy," said Dame Hadwig. " He well deserved 
 it; it was not necessary for him to come uninvited to 
 Herr Burkhard's funeral, and to preach consolation 
 to me, as if he were a saint. — Have the lute mended, 
 and meanwhile, my Greek treasure, canst thou tell 
 me why I have donned these glittering ornaments 
 to-day?" 
 
 " God is all-knowing," said the Greek maid. " I 
 cannot tell." 
 
 She was silent. So was Frau Hadwig. Then 
 ensued one of those long significant pauses generally 
 preceding self-knowledge. At last the duchess 
 said: 
 
 I myself do not kno 
 
 She fixed her eyes gloomily on the floor, and 
 added: "I believe I did it from ennui. But then 
 the top of our Hohentwiel is but a dreary nest, — 
 especially for a widow. Praxedis, dost thou know 
 a remedy against ennui ? " 
 
 " I once heard from a wise preacher," said Praxe- 
 dis, " that there are 'several remedies. Sleeping, 
 drinking and travelling — but that the best is fasting 
 and praying." 
 
 Then Frau Hadwig rested her head on her lily- 
 white hand, and looking sharply at the quick-witted 
 Greek, she said : 
 
 " To morrow we will go on a journey."
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 1 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. GALLUS. 
 
 The next day the duchess, accompanied by Praxedis 
 and a numerous train, was on her way across the 
 Bodensee in the early glow of the morning sun. The 
 lake was beautifully blue ; the flags floated gayly in 
 the air, and there was much merriment on board the 
 vessel. And who could be melancholy, when gliding 
 over the clear, crystal waters ; past the forest-girdled 
 shores with their many towers and castles; snowy 
 peaks rising in the distance ; and the reflection of 
 the white sails, trembling and breaking in the play- 
 ful waves ? 
 
 No one knew where the end of the journey was 
 to be. But then they were accustomed to obey 
 without questioning. 
 
 As they approached the bay of Rorschach,^*^ the' 
 duchess commanded them to run in. So the prow 
 was turned to the shore, and soon after she crossed 
 the shaky plank and stepped on land. Here the 
 to 11 -gatherer, who received the duty from all those 
 who travelled to Italy, and the market-master, and 
 all the others who held any official position, greeted 
 their sovereign with a lusty " Heil Herro!" " Heil 
 Liebo ! " 11 and waved mighty fir-branches over their
 
 1 6 EKKEHARD 
 
 heads. Acknowledging their salutations she walked 
 through the ranks, and ordered her chamberlain to 
 distribute some silver coins; — but not much time 
 was spent in tarrying. Already the horses which 
 had been secretly sent on before, in the night, stood 
 ready waiting, and when all were in the saddle, Frau 
 Hadwig gave the word of command : " To St. 
 Gallus." Then her servants looked at each other 
 with wondering eyes, as if asking, " What can this 
 pilgrimage mean?" But there was no time for an 
 answ^er, as the cavalcade was already cantering over 
 the hilly ground toward the monastery. 
 
 St. Benedict and his disciples knew very well 
 where to build their monasteries. Throughout the 
 length and breadth of the land, wherever you find a 
 large building, which, like a fortress, commands a 
 whole tract of land, the key to a valley, the central 
 point of crossing highways,, the repository of the 
 most exquisite vintage — there the passing tourist, 
 — until the contrary has been proved to him — may 
 boldly advance the assertion, that the house in ques- 
 tion belongs, or rather belonged formerly to the 
 order of St. Benedict, for in our days monasteries 
 have become scarcer and inns more plentiful, a phe- 
 nomenon which may be ascribed to the progress of 
 civilization. 
 
 The Irish saint Gallus had also chosen a lovely 
 spot, when, pining for forest air,^^ he settled down in 
 this Helvetian wilderness : In a high mountain-glen, 
 separated by steep hills from the milder shores of 
 the Bodensee, with wild torrents rushing by, while 
 on the other side the gigantic rocks of the Alpstein,
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 1/ 
 
 the snow-capped peaks of which disappear in the 
 clouds, rise as a sheltering wall. 
 
 It was a strange impulse which led those apostles 
 of Albion and Erin into the German continent, but 
 if one examines the matter closely their merit is not 
 so very great. 
 
 " The taste for visiting foreign lands is so deeply 
 rooted in the minds of Britons, that it cannot be 
 eradicated,^'' ^'^ thus wrote an impartial Suabian, as 
 early as in the times of Charlemagne. They were 
 simply the predecessors and ancestors of the present 
 British tourists, and might be recognized even at a 
 distance by the foreign, curious shape of their grip- 
 sacks.i* Now and then one of them would settle 
 down and never go home, although the honest na- 
 tives of the soil looked on him as a very unnecessary 
 intruder. Still their greater pertinacity, the inheri- 
 tance of all Britons, their cleverness in adapting 
 themselves to conditions, and the mystic awe which 
 all that is foreign inspires in the lower classes made 
 their missionary endeavors rather successful. 
 
 With other times, other customs ! The descend- 
 ants of those saints are now building railroads for 
 the Swiss, for good Helvetian money.^^ 
 
 The simple cell near the Steinach where the 
 Hibernian hermit had met his adventures with 
 thorns, with bears, and goblin water-witches had 
 grown into a spacious monastery. Above the shingle- 
 covered roofs of the dwelling majestically rose the 
 octagonal church-tower ; school-houses and granaries, 
 cellars and sheds, abounded also, and even a clack- 
 ing mill-wheel might be heard, for all the necessaries 
 
 VOL. I. — 2
 
 iS EKKEHARD 
 
 of life had to be prepared within the precincts of 
 the cloister, so that the monks need not go too far 
 beyond the boundaries, thereby endangering their 
 souls. A strong wall, with watch-tower and gate, sur- 
 rounded the whole ; less for ornament than for se- 
 curity, since there was many a powerful knight in 
 those times who little heeded the commandment, 
 "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods." 
 
 It was past the dinner-hour; a deep calm lay over 
 the valley. The rules of St. Benedict prescribe that 
 at that hour every one should seek his couch, and 
 though the relaxing heat of an Italian sun which 
 forces men and beasts into the arms of Morpheus is 
 rarely felt on that side of the Alps, the pious monks 
 nevertheless followed this rule to the letter.i^ 
 
 Only the guard on the watch-tower stood upright 
 and faithful as ever, in the little chamber with the 
 flies buzzing about him. 
 
 The name of the watchman was Romeias, and he 
 was keeping a sharp look-out. Suddenly he heard the 
 tramp of horses' feet in the neighboring firwood ; he 
 pricked up his ears and listened intently. " Eight or 
 ten horsemen," he muttered, and quickly dropped down 
 the portcullis from the 'gate, drew up the little bridge 
 leading over the moat, and took down his horn from 
 a nail in the wall. Finding that some spiders had 
 been weaving their cob-webs in it, he gave it a good 
 rubbing. 
 
 By that time the out-riders of the cavalcade were 
 visible on the outskirts of the forest. Romeias rubbed 
 his right hand over his forehead and eyed the ap- 
 proaching party with a very puzzled look. The
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 1 9 
 
 ultimate result of his investigation was one word : 
 " Womenfolk ! " He spoke half questioning, half 
 exclaiming, but there was neither pleasure nor edifi- 
 cation in his tone. 
 
 He seized his horn and blew three times into it. 
 They were uncouth, bull-like notes that he produced, 
 and one might safely conclude from his horn-playing 
 that neither the Muses nor the Graces had sur- 
 rounded the cradle of Romeias at Villingen in the 
 Black Forest. 
 
 Any one who has looked about in a wood must 
 have observed the life in an ant-hill. There every- 
 thing is well organized and goes on in its ordinary 
 way with harmony reigning in all the movement. 
 Now if you put your stick into it and frighten the 
 foremost ants, instantly there is wild confusion, and a 
 disorderly running hither and thither ensues. And all 
 this commotion is brought about by one single blow. 
 Thus and not otherwise did the horn of Romeias 
 blow discord into the silent monastery. 
 
 The windows of the great hall in the school-house 
 were filled with inquisitive young faces. Many a 
 lovely dream vanished out of the solitary cells, with- 
 out ever coming to an end, many a profound medita- 
 tion of half-awake thinkers as well. The wicked 
 Sindolt, who at this hour as he lay on his couch used 
 to investigate the forbidden books of Ovid's " Art of 
 Love," rolled hastily up the parchment leaves and 
 hid them carefully in his straw mattress. 
 
 The Abbot Cralo, heavy with sleep, jumped up 
 from his easy chair; stretched his arms toward the 
 ceilins: of his room. A magnificent silver basin "
 
 20 EKKEHARD 
 
 stood before him on a stone table ; he dipped his fore- 
 linger into it and wetted his eyes to drive away the 
 drowsiness that was still lingering there. Then he 
 limped to the open bow-window and looked out, and 
 he was as unpleasantly surprised as if a walnut had 
 dropped on his head. 
 
 " St. Benedict save us ! my cousin the duchess ! " 
 
 He quickly adjusted his cowl, brushed up the 
 scanty tuft of hair^^ which on the ver}' top of his 
 bald pate grew upwards like a stately pine-tree in a 
 sandy desert; put on his golden chain with the clois- 
 ter seal on it, took his applewood crozier adorned 
 with its richly carved ivory handle, and descended 
 into the courtyard. 
 
 " Can't you hasten ? " shouted one of the party out- 
 side. Then the abbot bade the watchman ask them 
 what they demanded. Romeias obeyed. 
 
 Now there came a blast from a horn outside; the 
 chamberlain Spazzo, in the capacity of herald, rode 
 up close to the gate, and called in a deep bass 
 voice : — 
 
 "The duchess and reigning sovereign of Suabia 
 presents her compliments to St. Callus. Open to 
 her." 
 
 The abbot sighed gently. He climbed up to 
 Romeias's watch-tower; leaning on his staff, he gave 
 his blessing to those standing outside and spoke 
 thus : — 
 
 " In the name of St. Callus, the most unworthy of 
 his disciples returns his thanks for the gracious 
 greeting. But his monastery is no Noah's ark, into 
 which every species of living thing, pure and impure,
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 21 
 
 male and female, may enter. Therefore, although 
 my heart is filled with regret, it is an impossibility 
 to sanction your entrance. On the day of judg- 
 ment the abbot must render an account for the souls 
 intrusted to his keeping. The presence of a woman, 
 although the noblest in the land, and the frivolous 
 speech of the children of this world would be too 
 great a temptation for those who are bound to strive 
 first after the kingdom of Heaven and his righteous- 
 ness. Trouble not the conscience of the shepherd 
 who anxiously watches over his flock. The canoni- 
 cal laws bar the gate. The gracious duchess will 
 find at Trogen or Rorschach a house belonging to 
 the monastery, at her entire disposal." 
 
 Frau Hadwig had been for some time sitting 
 impatiently in her saddle ; she now struck her white 
 palfrey with her riding-whip, making it rear, and 
 called out laughingly : — 
 
 " Spare yourself all your fine words. Cousin Cralo, 
 for I will see the cloister." 
 
 In doleful accents the abbot began: *" Woe unto 
 him by whom offence cometh. It were better for 
 him that a mill-stone . . . ' " 
 
 But he did not finish his warning speech. Frau 
 Hadwig changed the tone of her voice : " Sir 
 Abbot, the duchess of Suabia must see the monas- 
 tery," said she in a sharp tone. 
 
 Then themuch-afilicted man perceived that further 
 opposition could scarcely be offered without damag- 
 ing the future prospects of the monastery. Yet his 
 conscience still resisted. 
 
 When one is in a doubtful position, and is uncer-
 
 22 EKKEHARD 
 
 tain how to act, it is a great comfort to the vacillat- 
 ing mind to ask the advice of others; it lessens the 
 responsibility, and covers retreat. 
 
 Therefore Cralo now called down : " As you insist 
 so peremptorily, I must put the case first before the 
 assembled brotherhood. Until then, pray have 
 patience." 
 
 He walked back through the courtyard, inwardly 
 wishing that a flood might come from heaven and 
 destroy the highway which had brought such unwel- 
 come guests. His limping gait was hurried and 
 excited, and there is nothing remarkable in the 
 chronicler's report that he fluttered up and down the 
 cloister-walk, at that critical moment, like a swallow 
 before a thunder-storm.^^ 
 
 Five times the little bell of St. Othmar's chapel, 
 near the great church, now rang out, calling the 
 brothers to the chapter-house. The solitary corridor 
 became animated with hurrying figures ; the place 
 of assembly, opposite the hexagonal extension was 
 a simple gray hall, with arches supported by 
 columns, where the waters of a fountain pleasantly 
 tinkled into a metal basin. 
 
 On a raised tile-floor, stood the abbot's marble 
 chair, adorned with two roughly-carved lions' heads. 
 Steps led up to it. With a very pleasurable sensa- 
 tion the eye looked out from under these dark 
 arches and pillars on the greenness of the little 
 garden in the inner court. Roses and hollyhocks 
 flourished and bloomed in it; for kindly Nature 
 smiles even on those who have turned their backs 
 on her.
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 23 
 
 The, white cowls and dark-colored mantles con- 
 trasted well with the stone gray walls; noiselessly 
 they entered one after the other. A hasty bend of 
 the head was the mutual greeting. The morning 
 sun, warm and cheering, came slanting in through 
 the narrow windows. 
 
 They were tried men; a holy senate, well pleasing 
 in God's sight.20 
 
 He with the shrunk figure and sharp features, pale 
 from much fasting and many night-vigils, was Notker 
 the stutterer. A melancholy smile played about his 
 lips. The long practice of asceticism had removed 
 his spirit from the present. In former times he had 
 composed very beautiful melodies ; but now he had 
 taken a more gloomy tendency, and in the stillness 
 of the night hunted after demons to fight with 
 them. In the crypt of St. Gallus he had lately 
 encountered the Devil himself, and beaten him so 
 heartily that the fiend hid himself in a corner, dis- 
 mally howling, and envious tongues said that Not-" 
 ker's melancholy song of "-Media vita'''' had also 
 a dark origin; that the Evil One had revealed it 
 to him as a ransom when he lay ignominiously con- 
 quered, on the ground, under Notker's strong foot. 
 
 Close to him, a good-natured honest face smiled 
 out of an iron-gray beard. This was the mighty 
 Tutilo, who loved best to sit before the turning- 
 lathe and carve exquisitely fine images of ivory. 
 Some proofs of his skill even now exist, such as the 
 diptychon with the Virgin Mary's ascension and the 
 bear of St. Gallus. But when he found his back 
 beginning to grow crooked under the burden of his
 
 24 EKKEHARD 
 
 labor, singing, he would go out wolf-hunting, or 
 engage in an honest boxing-match, by way of rec- 
 reation ; he preferred fighting with wicked men to 
 wrestling with midnight ghosts, and often said con- 
 fidentially to his friend Notker: — 
 
 " He who, like myself, has imprinted his mark on 
 many a Christian as well as heathen back, can well 
 do without battling demons." 
 
 Then came Ratpert the long-tried teacher of the 
 school, who always showed his reluctance when the 
 little chapter-house bell called him away from his his- 
 tory books. He carried his head somewhat high; he 
 and the other two, though so different in character, 
 were one heart and one soul ; a three-leaved cloister 
 clover. '-^1 As he was one of the last to enter the hall, 
 Ratpert had to stand near his antagonist, the evil 
 Sindolt, who pretended not to see him, and whispered 
 something to his neighbor. This was a little man 
 with a face like a shrew-mouse, who puckered up his 
 lips, for Sindolt's whispered remark had been that in 
 the large dictionary by Bishop Salomon, ^^ beside the 
 words '■'- Rabulista signifies any one who insists upon 
 disputing about everything in the world," some un- 
 known hand had added the gloss, " like Radolt our 
 great thinker." 
 
 In the dim background towered the tall figure of 
 Sintram the indefatigable calligraphist, whose manu- 
 scripts were then the wonder of the whole Cisalpine 
 world; 23 but the tallest of St. Callus's disciples 
 were the Scotchmen, who had taken their stand 
 close to the entrance, Fortegian and Failan, Dubslan 
 and Brendan and the rest, inseparable compatriots.
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 25 
 
 grumbling over what they considered the neglect 
 shown them. In their number was also the red- 
 bearded Dubduin, who, in spite of his heavy iron 
 penitential chain, had not been elected prior. As a 
 punishment for the biting satirical verses which he 
 had composed on his German brothers, he had been 
 sentenced to water the dead peach-tree in the garden 
 for three years. 
 
 And Notker, the physician, was present also in 
 the assembly. He had but lately prescribed the 
 great remedy for the abbot's lame leg ; namely, that 
 it should be rubbed with fish-brains, and wrapped up 
 in the fresh skin of a wolf, so that the warmth of it 
 might stretch out the contracted sinews. ^^ His nick- 
 name was Peppercorn, on account of the strictness 
 with which he maintained the monastic discipline. 
 Then there were Wolo, who could not bear to look 
 at a woman or a ripe apple, ^^ and Engelbert the 
 founder of the menagerie, and Gerhard the preacher, 
 and Folkard the painter. Who knows them all, 
 those excellent masters, at the mention of whose 
 names the next generation of monks confessed with 
 regret that such men were becoming scarcer every 
 day ? 
 
 Now, the abbot mounted his stone chair, and they 
 took counsel as to what should be done. The case 
 was very difficult. 
 
 Ratpert spoke first, and demonstrated from history 
 in what way the Emperor Charlemagne had once 
 been enabled to enter the monastery.^^ 
 
 " In that instance," he said, "it was assumed that 
 he was a member of the order, as long as he was
 
 26 EKKEHARD 
 
 within our precincts, and all pretended not to know 
 who h^ was. Not a word was spoken of imperial 
 dignity, or deeds of war, or humble homage. He 
 walked about among us like any other monk, and 
 that he was not offended thereby is proved by the 
 letter of protection which he threw over the wall, 
 when departing." 
 
 But the great difficulty — the person asking for 
 admittance being a woman — could not be avoided 
 in this way. The stricter ones amongst the brother- 
 hood grumbled, and Notker, the Peppercorn, said : — 
 
 " She is the widow of that destroyer of countries, 
 and ravager of monasteries, who once carried off 
 our most precious chalice as a war-contribution, ^7 
 saying the derisive words : ' God neither eats nor 
 drinks, so what good to him are golden vessels ? ' 
 Let the gate remained closed." 
 
 This advice did not suit the abbot ; he wished to 
 find a compromise. The debate became very stormy, 
 one saying this, the other that. Brother Wolo, on 
 hearing that the discussion was about a woman, 
 softly slunk out and locked himself up in his cell. 
 
 Then one of the younger men rose and requested 
 to be heard, 
 
 " Speak, Brother Ekkehard ! " ^s called out the 
 abbot. 
 
 And the noisy tumult was hushed ; all liked to 
 hear Ekkehard speak. He was still young in years, 
 of a very handsome figure, and he captivated every 
 one who looked at him, by his graceful mien and 
 pleasing expression. Besides this, he was both wise 
 and eloquent, an excellent counsellor and a most
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 2/ 
 
 learned scholar. At the cloister-school he taught 
 Vergil, and though the rule prescribed that none but 
 a wise and hoary man, whose age would guard him 
 from frivolities, and who by his experience would be 
 discriminating in his reception of applicants, should 
 be made doorkeeper, yet the brothers had agreed 
 that Ekkehard united in himself all the necessary 
 requirements, and consequently had intrusted him 
 with that office. 
 
 A scarcely perceptible smile had played around 
 his lips, while the old men were disputing. He now 
 raised his voice and spoke thus : — 
 
 " The duchess of Suabia is the protectress of the 
 monastery, and in such capacity is equal to a man, 
 and even though our monastic rules strictly forbid 
 that a woman shall set foot on the cloister threshold, 
 she may easily be carried over." 
 
 Upon this the faces of the old men brightened up, 
 as if a great load had been taken off their minds. 
 The cowls nodded in approbation; even the abbot 
 was not unmoved by the wise counsel : — 
 
 "Verily, the Lord often reveals himself, even unto 
 a younger brother I 29 Brother Ekkehard, you are 
 guileless like the dove, and prudent like the serpent. 
 So you shall carry out your own advice. We give 
 you herewith the necessary dispensation." The red 
 blood rushed into Ekkehard's cheeks, but he bowed 
 his head in token of obedience. 
 
 "And what about the female attendants of the 
 duchess?" asked the abbot. 
 
 Here the assembly unanimously decided that even 
 the most liberal interpretation of the monastic laws
 
 28 EKKEHARD 
 
 could not grant them admittance. The evil Sindolt, 
 however, said : "Let them meanwhile pay a visit 
 to the nuns on Erin Hill; if the monastery of 
 St. Callus was afflicted by a visitation, it is only 
 fair that the pious Wiborad should bear her share 
 of it."' 
 
 After holding a whispered consultation with Cer- 
 oid the steward about the supper, the abbot de- 
 scended from his throne, and, accompanied by the 
 brotherhood, went out to meet his guests, who had 
 thrice ridden round the monaster}Mvalls, banishing 
 the ennui of waiting by merry jests and laughter. 
 
 The chant ''Justus germinavit,'' the hymn in 
 praise of St. Benedict, now came in heavy monot- 
 onous cadences, as the monks approached from 
 the monastery court. The heavy gate opened creak- 
 ing on its hinges, and out came the abbot at the 
 head of the procession of friars, who, slowly march- 
 ing two and two, chanted antiphonally. 
 
 Then the abbot gave a sign to stop the singing. 
 
 " How do you do, Cousin Cralo.^ " flippantly cried 
 the duchess from her saddle. " I have not seen you 
 for an age ! Are you ?till limping? " 
 
 Cralo, however, replied with dignity : " It is bet- 
 ter that the shepherd should limp than the flock, ^o 
 Be pleased to hear the monastery's decree." 
 
 And he explained the condition on which she was 
 to enter. 
 
 Then Frau Hadwig replied smilingly: — 
 
 " During all the time that I have wielded the sceptre 
 in Suabia, such a proposition has never been made 
 to me. But the laws of your order shall be respected.
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. CALLUS 29 
 
 Which of the brothers have you chosen to carry the 
 sovereign over the threshold? " 
 
 She cast her sparkling eyes over the ranks of the 
 spiritual champions, and when she beheld the dark 
 fanatical face of Notker the stutterer, she whispered 
 to Praxedis : — 
 
 " Maybe we shall turn back at once." 
 
 Then said the abbot : " It is the doorkeeper's duty. 
 There he stands." 
 
 Frau Hadwig turned her eyes in the direction 
 which the abbot's forefinger pointed. Ekkehard was 
 standing with bowed head ; she beheld the handsome 
 figure and noble countenance, glowing with youth 
 and health. It was a long gaze with which she 
 studied his intellectual features and the waving 
 golden hair and the broad tonsure. 
 
 "We shall not turn back," she said, nodding to 
 Praxedis; and before the short-necked chamberlain, 
 who was generally wilhng enough but too slow, had 
 dismounted from his nag and approached her pal- 
 frey, she sprang gracefully from the stirrup, ap- 
 proached the doorkeeper and said : — 
 
 " Now, then, perform your office." 
 
 Ekkehard had been trying to compose an address, 
 and meant to apologize in faultless Latin for the 
 strange liberty he was about to take ; but when she 
 stood before him, proud and commanding, his voice 
 failed him, and the speech remained where it had 
 been conceived, — in his thoughts. But his courage 
 was undaunted, and with strong arm he lifted the 
 duchess, who rested her right hand on her bearer's 
 shoulder, and clung to him well pleased.
 
 30 EKKEHARD 
 
 Cheerfully he stepped with his burden over the 
 threshold which no woman's foot might touch ; the 
 abbot walked by his side, the chamberlain and vas- 
 sals followed. The acolytes swung their censers high 
 into the air, and the monks, marching behind in a 
 double file as before, sung the last verses of their 
 hymn of praise. 
 
 It was a wonderful spectacle, such as never 
 occurred either before or after in the history of the 
 monastery, and as regards the monk carrying the 
 duchess, those prone to useless moralizing might 
 well indulge in edifying observation on the relation 
 of Church and State in those times, and the changes 
 which have occurred since. . . . 
 
 Natural philosophers say that at the meeting of 
 animate objects invisible powers begin to act, stream- 
 ing forth and passing from one to the' other, thus 
 creating strange affinities. This was proved true at 
 least with regard to the duchess and the doorkeeper; 
 while she was cradled in his arms she thought 
 inwardly : " Indeed, never did the St. Benedict's cowl 
 cover a more graceful head than this one:" ^^ and 
 when Ekkehard with shy deference put down his 
 burden in the cool monastery corridor, he was struck 
 by the thought that the distance from the gate had 
 never before seemed to him so short. 
 
 " I suppose that you found me very heavy?" said 
 the duchess. 
 
 " My liege Lady, you may boldly say of yourself as 
 it is written, * My yoke is easy and my burden is 
 light,' " was his reply. 
 
 " I should not have expected that you would turn
 
 THE DISCIPLES OF ST. GALL US 3 I 
 
 the words of Scripture into a flattering speech. 
 What is your name ? " 
 
 He replied, "They call me Ekkehard." 
 
 " Ekkehard, I thank you," said the duchess with a 
 graceful wave of her hand. 
 
 He stepped back to an oriel window in the corri- 
 dor, and looked out into the little garden. Was it 
 mere chance that the thought of St. Christopher 
 came into his mind? He also considered his bur- 
 den light when he began to carry the child-stranger 
 across the stream on his strong shoulder ; but heavier 
 and heavier the burden weighed on his back, and 
 pressed him downwards into the roaring flood, deep, 
 deep, so that his courage was well-nigh turned into 
 despair. . . . 
 
 The abbot had ordered a magnificent jug to be 
 brought: he himself went with it to the well, filled 
 it, and returning to the duchess, said, " It was the duty 
 of the abbot to bring water to strangers for them to 
 wash their hands, as well as their feet and ..." 
 
 " No, thank you," said the duchess, interrupting 
 him. She spoke in a decided tone. 
 
 Meanwhile two of the brothers had brought down 
 a chest, which now stood open in the passage. Out 
 of this the abbot drew a monk's habit, brand new 
 and said : — 
 
 " Thus I create the illustrious patron of our mon- 
 astery a member of our brotherhood, and in token 
 thereof adorn him with the garb of our order." ^^ 
 
 Frau Hadwig submitted. She lightly bent her 
 knee, as she received the cowl from his hands ; she 
 put on the unaccustomed garment, and it fitted her
 
 32 EKKEHARD 
 
 well, for it was ample, and fell in folds, in accord- 
 ance with the rule, which says : — 
 
 "The abbot is to keep a strict look-out that the 
 garments shall not be too scanty, but well fitted to 
 their wearers." 
 
 The beautiful rosy countenance looked lovely in 
 the brown hood. 
 
 "And you also must do the same," said the abbot 
 to the followers of the duchess. Then the evil 
 Sindolt had his sport in helping Herr Spazzo to 
 don the garb. 
 
 " Do you know," he whispered into his ear, " what 
 obligations this cowl imposes upon you? That on 
 your oath you renounce the lusts of this world, and 
 promise to lead henceforth a sober, chaste, and 
 self-denying life." 
 
 Herr Spazzo, who had already put his right arm 
 into the ample gown of the order, pulled it out again 
 hastily. " Hold on ! " he exclaimed in vexation, " I 
 protest against this ! " Sindolt burst into a loud 
 guffaw, and then, the chamberlain perceived that he 
 was not quite in earnest, and said : " Brother, you are 
 a wag." 
 
 Soon the vassals we're also adorned with the garb 
 of the order, but the beards of some of the newly 
 created monks descended to the girdle, contrary to 
 the rules, and also they were not quite canonical as 
 regarded the modest casting down of their eyes. 33 
 
 The abbot first led his guests into the church.
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 33 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA. 
 
 OxE of those who were least delighted by the unex- 
 pected visitation was Romeias the watchman at the 
 gate. He knew pretty well yet not fully what was 
 before him. While the abbot was receiving the 
 duchess, Ceroid the steward came up to him and 
 said : — 
 
 " Romeias, prepare to go on an errand. You are 
 to tell the people on the neighboring farms to send 
 before evening the fowls that are due, 34 as they will 
 be wanted at the feast, and besides you are to 
 procure a good supply of game." 
 
 This order pleased Romeias well. It was not the 
 first time that he had been to ask for fowls, and the 
 farmers and tavern-keepers held him in great respect, 
 for he had a commanding manner of speaking. 
 Hunting was at all times the delight of his heart, and 
 so Romeias took his spear, hung the cross-bow over 
 his shoulder, and was just going to call out a pack 
 of hounds, when Ceroid the steward pulled his 
 sleeve and said : — 
 
 " Romeias, one thing more ! You are to escort 
 the duchess's waiting-women, who have been for- 
 bidden to enter the monastery, up to the Schwarza- 
 ,V0L. I.— 3
 
 34 EKKEHARD 
 
 Thai, and present them to the pious Wiborad, who 
 is to entertain them until evening. And you are to 
 be v-ery civil, Romeias; there is a Greek maid among 
 them with very dark eyes ..." 
 
 Then three deep lines darkened Romeias's brow, 
 and he flung his hunting-spear on the ground with 
 a clatter. "Escort womenfolk?" he exclaimed. 
 " That is not the business of the watchman of St. 
 Gallus." 
 
 But Ceroid nodded toward him significantly and 
 said: — 
 
 " Romeias, you must try. It has happened that 
 watchmen, who have faithfully performed their tasks, 
 have found an ample jug of monastery wine in their 
 room of an evening, — eh, Romeias?" 
 
 The discontented face brightened up, and he went 
 down into the courtyard to let out the hounds. The 
 blood-hound and the beagle jumped up on him, and 
 the little beaver-puppy also set up a joyous bark, 
 and wanted to go with the rest ; 35 but with a con- 
 temptuous kick it was sent back, for the hunter had 
 nothing to do with fish-ponds and their inhabitants. 
 Surrounded by his noisy pack of hounds, Romeias 
 strode out of the gate.' 
 
 Praxedis and the duchess's other serving-women 
 had dismounted from their horses and were sitting 
 on a sunny sward, chatting away about monks and 
 cowls and beards, and the strange caprices of their 
 mistress. Then Romeias suddenly appeared before 
 them and said : " Come on ! " 
 
 Praxedis looked at the rough sportsman, and was 
 not quite certain what to make of him; in a pert
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 35 
 
 tone of voice she asked : " Where to, my good 
 friend?" 
 
 Romeias raised his spear and pointed with it to a 
 neighboring hill behind the woods, but said nothing. 
 
 Then Praxedis called out : " Are words so costly 
 here in St. Gall, that you can't give any other answer ? " 
 
 The serving-women laughed. % 
 
 Then Romeias said solemnly : " May a thunder- 
 bolt strike you all seven fathom underground ! " 
 
 Praxedis replied : " We thank you, good friend." 
 This formed the appropriate introduction to a con- 
 versation. Romeias explained his commission and 
 the women followed him willingly enough. 
 
 Romeias gradually found that it was not the hard- 
 est work to accompany such guests, and when the 
 Greek maid asked him particularly about his duties 
 as a watchman, and the business of hunting, his 
 tongue was loosened, and he even related his great 
 adventure with the terrible wild boar, into whose 
 side he had thrown his spear and yet could not kill 
 it, for one of its feet would have loaded a cart, and 
 its bristles stood up as high as a pine-tree, and its 
 tusks were twelve yards long at the least ^^ 
 
 After this he grew still more civil, for when the 
 Greek once stopped to listen to the warbling of a 
 thrush, he also waited patiently, though a song-bird 
 was far too miserable a piece of game for him to 
 honor with much notice ; and when Praxedis bent 
 down for a pretty golden-beetle crawling about in 
 the reddish moss, Romeias politely tried to push the 
 beetle toward her with his heavy boot, and if in 
 doing so he crushed it instead, it was certainly not 
 intentionally.
 
 36 EKKEHARD 
 
 They climbed up a wild, steep wood-path, beside 
 which the Schwarza-brook ran over jagged conglom- 
 erate rocks. On that slope St. Gallus had once 
 fallen among thorns, and had said to his companion, 
 who wanted to lift him up : " Here let me lie, for 
 here shall be my resting-place and my abode for 
 all time."' 37 
 
 They had not walked very far up the mountain- 
 side, before they came to a clearing in the fir-wood, 
 where, leaning against the sheltering rocks, stood a 
 simple chapel in the shape of a cross. Close to it 
 a square hut was built, also backing against the 
 rock. It apparently had only one tiny window with 
 a wooden shutter. It had no door or other mode 
 of entrance, and it was a problem how a person 
 could obtain admittance into such a building unless 
 by climbing down from the side of the crag and 
 entering through a hole in the roof. Opposite stood 
 another hut exactly like it, having also but one little 
 window. 
 
 It was customary at that time for those who in- 
 clined to the monastic life, and who, as St. Bene- 
 dict says, *^ felt strong enough to fight with the 
 Devil without the assistance of pious companions, 
 to have themselves immured in such a den as that. 
 They were called "Reclausi" (recluses, hermits), 
 and their usefulness and aim in life might be well 
 compared to that of the Pillarists in Egypt. Sharp 
 winter winds, and the deep snows on this side of 
 the Alps rendered their exposure in the open air 
 impossible, but the longing for an anchorite's life 
 was no less strong.39
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 37 
 
 Within those four narrow walls on Erin Hill lived 
 the Sister Wiborad,'*^ a far-famed recluse of her 
 time. 
 
 She came from Klingnau in Aargau, and had been 
 a proud and prudish virgin, skilled in many arts ; 
 and she had learned from her brother Hitto to recite 
 all the Psalms in Latin, and formerly she had not 
 been disinclined to sweeten the life of some man or 
 other, provided she could find the right one, but the 
 flower of the youth at Aargau found no grace in her 
 eyes, and one day she set out on ,a pilgrimage to 
 Rome. There, in the holy city her restless mind 
 must have undergone some great shock, but none 
 of her contemporaries ever knew in what way. For 
 three entire days her brother Hitto ran up and down 
 the Forum through the halls of the Colosseum, and 
 the triumphal arch of Constantine, to the four-faced 
 Janus near the Tiber, seeking for his sister and not 
 finding her ; on the morning of the fourth day, she 
 walked in at the Salarian gate, and she carried 
 her head high, and her eyes gleamed strangely, 
 and she said that things would not be right in the 
 world until the due amount of veneration was shown 
 unto St. Martin. 
 
 And when she returned to her home, she trans- 
 ferred all her wealth to the bishop's church at Con- 
 stance, on condition that the priests should hold a 
 special festival in honor of St. Martin every year on 
 the nth of November. She herself went to live in 
 a small house, the former hermitage of the holy 
 Zilia, and there led a conventual life. But as it 
 never agreed with her there she betook herself to 
 
 4474M
 
 38 EKKEHARD 
 
 the valley of St. Gallus. The bishop himself es- 
 corted her to the Erin Hill, put the black veil on 
 her head, and led her into the cell, and pronounced 
 the benediction ; it was he who laid the first stone 
 with which the entrance was closed up, and he 
 imprinted his seal four times on the lead with which 
 the stones were soldered, setting her apart from the 
 world, and the monks chanted sad solemn strains, 
 as if it were a burial. 
 
 The people thereabout held the recluse in high 
 honor. They called her a " hard-forged teacher," *i 
 and on many a Sunday they flocked to the meadow 
 before her cell, and Wiborad stood at her window, 
 and preached to them, and other women went to live 
 in her neighborhood to be instructed by her in 
 all the virtues. 
 
 " We have reached our destination," said Romeias. 
 Then Praxedis and her companions looked around. 
 Not a human being was to be seen. Belated butter- 
 flies and beetles buzzed in the sunshine and the 
 cricket chirped merrily m the grass. The shutter 
 at VViborad's window was almost closed, so that 
 but a scanty ray of sunshine could penetrate. The 
 monotonous hollow half-nasal tones of a person 
 chanting psalms broke the silence. 
 
 Romeias knocked on the shutter with his spear, 
 but it remained closed as before ; the chanting w^ent 
 on. Then the watchman said : " We must rouse 
 her some other way." 
 
 Romeias was rather a rough sort of man, or he 
 would not have done as he now did. 
 
 Ke began singing a song, such as he often sang
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 39 
 
 to amuse the monastery pupils, when they stole off 
 into his watch-tower to pull his beard or play on his 
 big horn. It was one of those ditties which, ever 
 since there was a German tongue, have been sung 
 by the thousand, on hillsides and highways, on cross- 
 roads and in woody dells, and the wind has carried 
 them on and spread them further. It ran as follows : 
 
 *' I know all oak-tree decked with green, 
 That stands amid a grove ; 
 There calls and coos from mom till e'en 
 A beauteous cushat-dove. 
 
 " I know a noisy noisome crag 
 
 With screams and croaking frightful : 
 There nests a dun-gray shapeless hag : — 
 A barn-owl * hoarse and spiteful. 
 
 •* The huntsman's horn rings clear and sweet, 
 His arrow death will cherish : 
 The cushat-dove with song I greet, 
 The owl I doom to perish." 
 
 Romeias's song had about the same effect as if 
 he had thrown a heavy stone against Wiborad's 
 shutter. Instantly there appeared a figure at the 
 little square window ; above the scrawny neck rose 
 the pale ghastly face of a woman whose mouth had 
 assumed a hostile relation toward the nose. Hidden 
 by a dark veil, she bent out of the little window as 
 far as she could, and her eyes flashed ominously: 
 
 " Art thou come back, Satanas ? " she cried. 
 
 * German: Schleiereulc, the syllable Schleter meaning "a 
 veil," hence the covert sting.
 
 40 EKKEHARD 
 
 Romeias then advanced a few steps and said 
 complacently : — 
 
 " Nay, the Evil One knows no such fine songs 
 as Romeias the monastery watchman does. Calm 
 yourself, Sister Wiborad ; I bring you some dainty 
 damsels whom the abbot warmly recommends to 
 your kind reception." 
 
 "Take yourselves off, ye deceiving phantoms!" 
 screamed the recluse. " I know the snares of the 
 Tempter. Hence, begone ! "' 
 
 But Praxedis now approached the window, and 
 humbly dropping a low courtesy to the old hag, ex- 
 plained to her that she came not from hell but from 
 the Hohentwiel. The Greek maiden could be just 
 a little deceitful, for though up to that time she had 
 known nothing about the cell and its inhabitant, she 
 added that she had already heard so much of Sister 
 Wiborad's edifying life that she had availed herself 
 of the first opportunity of paying her a visit. 
 
 Then it seemed as if some of the wrinkles on 
 Wiborad's forehead began to disappear. " Give me 
 thy hand, stranger," said she, stretching out her arm, 
 which, as the sleeve fell back a little, could be seen 
 in all its skinny leanness. 
 
 Praxedis held up her right hand, and as the recluse 
 touched with her dry fingers the soft warm hand 
 with its throbbing pulses, she became slowly con- 
 vinced that the young girl was a being of flesh and 
 blood. '^ 
 
 Romeias perceived this change for the better and 
 rolled some big stones under the window of the cell. 
 
 " In two hours I shall be back to fetch you ; —
 
 WIBOKADA RECLUSA 4 1 
 
 God bless you, virgins all," he said aloud, and then 
 added in a whisper to the Greek maid, " and don't be 
 frightened if she should fall into one of her trances." 
 
 Whistling to his dogs he strode toward the forest. 
 The first thirty steps or so he met no impediment: 
 then he turned his shaggy head round, and then his 
 whole body; leaning on his spear he gazed intently 
 at the spot before the cell as if he had lost something. 
 Yet he had forgotten nothing. 
 
 Praxedis smiled and kissed her hand to the rudest 
 of all watchmen. Then Romeias quickly turned 
 round again, tried to shoulder his spear, dropped 
 it, picked it up again, stumbled, saved himself, and 
 finally vanished at a swift pace behind the moss- 
 grown stems. 
 
 " Oh, thou child of the world, groping in darkness," 
 scolded the recluse, " what meant that movement of 
 thy hand?" 
 
 " A mere jest," replied Praxedis, artlessly. 
 
 " A sin," cried Wiborad in harsh accents. Praxe- 
 dis was startled. " Oh, the Devil's works and delu- 
 sions ! " continued the other with her sermon. " There 
 you cast your eyes slily about until they enter a 
 man's heart like lightning, and kiss your hands to 
 him as if that were nothing ! Is it nothing that he 
 gazes back who ought to gaze forwards? No man 
 having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, 
 is fit for the kingdom of God. '*^ ' A jest ? ' Oh, give 
 me hyssop to take away your sin, and snow to wash 
 you clean ! " 
 
 " I did not think of that," admitted Praxedis, 
 blushing.
 
 42 EKKEHARD 
 
 "There are so many things of which you do not 
 think." She looked critically at Praxedis from head 
 to foot. " And you do not think that you are wear- 
 ing this day a bright green garment, and all such 
 flaring colors are an abomination unto those who 
 have banished all worldly thoughts; and that thy 
 girdle is tied so loosely and negligently round thy 
 waist, as if thou wert a public dancer. Watch and 
 pray ! " 
 
 The recluse disappeared for a few moments, then 
 returned and held out a coarsely twisted cord. 
 
 " I pity thee, poor turtle-dove," * she said. " Tear 
 off thy embroidered silken finery and take the girdle 
 of self-denial from Wiborad's own hand ; let it be a 
 warning to thee to have done with all vain talkings 
 and doings. And if thou shouldst again feel the 
 temptation of an idle heart to kiss thy hand to a 
 watchman, turn thy head toward the east and chant 
 the psalm, "Make haste, oh God, to deliver me;" 
 and if even then peace will not come to thee, then 
 light a wax candle, and hold thy fore-finger over the 
 flame, and thou wilt be saved ; ^^ for fire alone cures 
 fire." 
 
 Praxedis cast down 'her eyes. 
 
 "Your words are bitter," she said. 
 
 " Bitter ! " exclaimed the recluse. " Praised be 
 the Lord that no sweet taste dwells on my lips! 
 The mouth of saints must be bitter. When Pacho- 
 mius sat in the desert, the angel of the Lord came 
 unto him, took the leaves from a laurel-tree, and 
 
 * German : Lachtaube^ i. e., "laughing dove; " a common name 
 ailso for a merry girl.
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 43 
 
 writing some holy words of prayer on them gave 
 them to Pachomius and said : ' Swallow these leaves, 
 they will be as bitter as gall in thy mouth, but they 
 will make thy heart overflow with true wisdom/ 
 And Pachomius took the leaves and ate them, and 
 from that moment his tongue became bitter, but his 
 heart was filled with sweetness, and he praised the 
 Lord." 44 
 
 Praxedis said nothing, and there ensued a silence 
 which was not interrupted for some time. The 
 duchess's other maids had all vanished, for when the 
 recluse had handed out her girdle, they nudged each 
 other and quietly glided round the hut. They were 
 now gathering bunches of heather and autumnal 
 flowers, giggling at what they had witnessed. 
 
 " Shall we also put on such a belt ? " asked one of 
 them. 
 
 "Yes, when the sun rises black," replied the other. 
 
 Praxedis had put the cord into the grass. 
 
 " I do not like robbing you of your girdle," she 
 now said shyly. 
 
 " Oh, the simplicity ! " exclaimed Wiborad. " The 
 girdle that we wear is no toy like the one that I gave 
 thee. Wiborad's girdle is an iron hoop with blunted 
 spikes; it clinks like a chain and cuts into the flesh, 
 — thou wouldst shudder at the mere sight of it." ^^ 
 
 Praxedis took several steps in the direction of the 
 wood, as if to see whether Romeias was not yet to 
 be seen returning. The recluse probably noticed 
 that her guest was not enjoying herself particularly, 
 and she held out to her a board, on which lay half-a- 
 dozen reddish-green apples.
 
 44 EKKEHARD 
 
 " Does time pass slowly for thee, child of the 
 world ? " she asked. " There, take these, if words 
 of grace do not satisfy thee. Cakes and sweet-meats 
 have I none, but these apples are fair in the sight of 
 the Lord. They are the nourishment of the poor.'' 
 
 The Greek maid knew what politeness required. 
 But they were crab-apples! When she had half 
 eaten one, her pretty mouth looked awry, and invol- 
 untary tears started into her eyes. 
 
 " How do they taste ? " cried the recluse. 
 
 Then Praxedis pretended that the remaining half 
 fell by chance from her hand. 
 
 " If the Creator had made all apples as sour as 
 these," she said with a bitter-sweet smile, " Eve 
 would never have eaten of the apple." 
 
 Wiborad was offended. " 'T is well," said she, 
 "that thou dost not forget the storj- of Eve. She 
 had the same tastes as thou, and therefore sin came 
 into the world." ^^ 
 
 The Greek maid looked up at the sky, but not from 
 emotion. A solitary hawk was flying in circles over 
 Wiborad's hut. " Oh that I could fly with thee, 
 over the Bodensee ! " she thought. Then she shook 
 her head. 
 
 " What must I do," she inquired, '• to become as 
 perfect as you are ? " 
 
 " Entirely to renounce the world," replied Wibo- 
 rad, '• is a grace from above ; man cannot acquire it 
 by himself. Fasting, drinking of pure w^ater, casti- 
 gating the flesh and reciting of psalms, — all these 
 are mere preparations. The most important thing 
 is a good patron-saint. We women are but frail
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 45 
 
 creatures, but fervent prayer brings the champions 
 of God to our side to assist us. Look at this little 
 window : here he often stands in lonely nights, — 
 he, the chosen of my heart, the valiant Bishop Mar- 
 tin, and holds out his lance and shield, to protect 
 me from the raging devils. An aureole of blue 
 flames crowns his head, flashing through the dark- 
 ness like summer hghtning, and as soon as he ap- 
 pears the demons fly away shrieking. And when the 
 battle is over, then he enters into friendly com 
 munion with me. I tell him all that weighs on my 
 poor heart ; — all the grief the women who are neigh- 
 bors cause me, and the wrong which I suffer from 
 the monastery folk ; and the saint nods to me and 
 shakes his curly head, and all that I tell him he 
 carries to heaven and repeats it to his friend the 
 Archangel Michael, who keeps watch every Monday, 
 before the throne of God Almighty.'*'^ There it 
 comes to the right spot, and Wiborad the last of 
 the least in the service of the High-enthroned is 
 not forgotten. . , ." 
 
 " Then I also will choose St. Martin to become 
 my patron-saint," exclaimed Praxedis. 
 
 But this had not been the aim of Wiborad 's 
 praises. She threw a contemptuous jealous look on 
 the young rosy girl's cheeks. 
 
 " The Lord pardon you your presumption ! " 
 cried she, with folded hands. " Do you believe that 
 this can be done with a flippant word and smooth 
 face .-^ Indeed ! Many long years have I striven 
 and borne on my brow the wrinkles of self-mortifica- 
 tion like scars, — and he did not favor me even with
 
 46 EKKEHARD 
 
 one single look ! He is a high and mighty saint, a 
 valiant soldier of the Lord, and he looks only on 
 those of us who have fulfilled the tests and won the 
 battle." 
 
 " He will not rudely shut his ears against my 
 prayers," interrupted Praxedis. 
 
 " But you shall not pray to him," cried Wiborad, 
 angrily. " Don't you dare pray to him ! What has 
 he to do with you ? For such as you there are 
 other patron-saints. I will name you one. Choose 
 the pious Father Pachomius for your patron." 
 
 " I do not know him," said Praxedis. 
 
 " Bad enough ; then it is high time for you to 
 know him. He was a venerable hermit who lived in 
 the Theban desert, and ate roots and locusts. He 
 was so pious that even in his life-time he heard the 
 music of the spheres and planets and often said : 
 * If all men could hear what has been vouchsafed 
 my ears to hear, they would forsake houses and lands, 
 and he who had put on the right shoe would leave 
 the left one behind and hasten to the East.' Now 
 in Alexandria there was a maid whose name was 
 Thais, and no one could tell which was greater, her 
 beauty or her frivolity. Then said Pachomius : 
 'Such a woman is a plague for the whole land of 
 Egypt,' and he arose, cut his beard, anointed himself, 
 and mounted a crocodile which by prayer he had 
 made subservient to himself, and on its scaly back 
 he was carried down the Nile ; and he went to Thais 
 as if he were a lover. His big palm-tree stick he 
 had taken with him, and he shook the sinner's heart 
 so that she burnt up her silken robes as well as her
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 47 
 
 finery, and followed Pachomius as a lamb does 
 the shepherd. And he shut her up in a rock tomb, 
 leaving only a tiny window in it, and he instructed 
 her in prayer, and after five years her purification 
 was completed, and four angels carried her soul up 
 to heaven. "'^s 
 
 But Praxedis was not much edified. 
 
 " The old hermit with his rough beard and bitter 
 lips is not distinguished enough for her," she thought, 
 "and so I am to take him for myself," but she dared 
 not to say so. 
 
 Now the vesper bell at the monastery below the 
 pine woods began to ring. The recluse stepped 
 back from the window and closed her shutter. The 
 hollow sound of psalm-chanting was heard again, 
 accompanied by the noise like falling strokes. She 
 was flagellating herself. 
 
 Meanwhile Romeias had begun his sport in the 
 distant forest, and thrown his spear — but he had 
 mistaken an oak stump for a young deer. Angrily 
 he pulled out his weapon from the tenacious wood ; 
 it was the first time in his life that such a thing 
 had happened to him. 
 
 Before Wiborad's cell silence reigned for a time. 
 Then her voice was again heard, but quite altered ; 
 the tones full and vibrating with passion : — 
 
 "Come down, holy Martin; valiant champion of 
 God ; thou consolation of my solitude ; star in the 
 darkness of time. Descend ! My soul is ready to 
 behold thee ; mine eyes thirst for thee." ^^ 
 
 And again it was still in the clearing. Then 
 Praxedis started with terror. A hollow shriek rang:
 
 48 EKKEHARD 
 
 out from within the cell. She sprang to the window 
 and looked in. The recluse was prostrate on her 
 knees, her arms were extended beseechingly, her 
 eyes had a lixed, stony expression. Beside her lay 
 the scourge, the instrument of her penance. 
 
 " For God's sake," cried Praxedis, " what is the 
 matter with you .? " 
 
 Wiborad jumped up, and pressed the Greek maid- 
 en's hand convulsively. " Child of Earth," said she 
 in broken accents, "who hast been deemed wor- 
 thy to witness the agonies of Wiborad, strike thy 
 bosom ; for a token has been given. He, the elect 
 of my soul, did not come; he is offended that his 
 name has been profaned by unholy lips; but the 
 holy Gallus appeared to my souFs eye, — he who 
 never before deigned to visit my cell, — and his coun- 
 tenance was that of a sufferer, and his garments were 
 torn and burnt. His monastery is threatened by 
 disaster. We must pray that his disciples stumble 
 not in the path of righteousness." 
 
 She leaned out of the narrow window, and called 
 out to the neighboring hermitage : — 
 
 " Sister Wendelgard ! " 
 
 Then the shutter opposite was opened, and an 
 aged face appeared. It was the excellent Frau 
 Wendelgard, who in that fashion was niourning for 
 her spouse, who had never returned from the last 
 wars. 
 
 " Sister Wendelgard," said Wiborad, " let us sing 
 three times, * Be merciful unto us, O Lord ! '" 
 
 But the Sister Wendelgard had just been thinking 
 with ecstatic yearning of her husband. She had
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 49 
 
 firm trust in God, and knew that some day he would 
 return from the land of the Huns, and she would 
 have liked best there and then to kick open the 
 door of her cell, to march out into the free air and 
 meet him. 
 
 " It is not the time for psalm-singing," she replied. 
 
 " So much the more acceptable is voluntary devo- 
 tion rising up to Heaven," said Wiborad; and with 
 her rough voice she intoned the psalm. But the 
 expected response did not come. 
 
 " Why dost thou not join me in singing David's 
 song.? " 
 
 "Because I don't wish to do so," was Sister 
 Wendelgard's unceremonious reply. 
 
 The fact was that she had at last grown weary of 
 her long seclusion. Many thousand psalms had she 
 sung at Wiborad's bidding, in order to induce St. 
 Martin to deliver her husband from the power of 
 the infidels ; but the sun rose and the sun set daily, 
 — and yet he never came. And so she was dis- 
 gusted with her gaunt neighbor, with her visions 
 and phantasms. 
 
 Wiborad, however, turned her eyes steadily up- 
 wards, like one who thinks to discover a comet in 
 clear daylight. 
 
 " Oh, thou vessel full of disobedience and wicked- 
 ness," she cried, " I will pray for thee, that the 
 evil spirits may be driven out of thee. Thine eye 
 is blind, thy mind is dark." 
 
 But the other quietly replied : — 
 
 "Judge not that ye be not judged. My eyes are 
 as clear as they were a year ago, when, one moon- 
 VOL. I. — 4
 
 50 EKKEHARD 
 
 light night, they saw you getting out of your window 
 and going away Heaven knows where ; and my 
 mind still refuses to believe that prayers coming 
 from such a mouth can work miracles." 
 
 Then Wiborad's pale face became distorted as 
 if she had bitten a pebble. 
 
 " Woe to thee whom the Devil has deluded ! " she 
 screamed, and a flood of scolding words streamed 
 from her lips ; but her neighbor knew well how to 
 answer her in kind. 
 
 Quicker and quicker the words came, confusing 
 and mixing themselves together, while the rocky 
 walls threw back inharmonious echoes, and fright- 
 ened a pair of little owlets, which left their cranny 
 nest and flew away screeching. When the two 
 queens * were scolding each other in the portal of 
 the Cathedral at Worms, it was amiability compared 
 to this. 
 
 In mute astonishment, Praxedis listened to the 
 noise; she felt moved to interfere and make peace; 
 but a soft thing fares ill between two sharp ones. 
 
 But now the cheering notes of a hunting-horn and 
 the loud barking of dogs were heard from the wood ; 
 leisurely came the tall figure of Romeias striding 
 along. 
 
 When he threw his spear the second time, it hit 
 not a stump, but a magnificent stag of ten antlers. 
 It hung down over his shoulder; and he carried 
 fastened to his belt six hares which the monastery 
 farmer of Tablatt had caught in snares. 
 
 And when the huntsman beheld the recluses quar- 
 
 * Chriemhilde and Brunhilde.
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 51 
 
 relling his heart rejoiced. Without saying a word, 
 he loosened two of the. Hving hares, and swinging 
 one in each hand, he threw them so dexterously into 
 the narrow little windows, that Wiborad, as she felt 
 the soft fur brushing past her head Hke an electric 
 shock, started back with a loud scream. The worthy 
 Wendelgard's black habit had loosened itself in the 
 heat of the discussion, and the hare, suddenly get- 
 ting entangled between her bosom and her cowl, 
 and vainly trying to discover an outlet, caused her 
 no small fright. So both stopped their scolding, 
 closed the shutters, and there was silence again on 
 Erin HilL^o 
 
 ". We '11 go home," said Romeias to the Greek 
 maid, " for it is getting late." Praxedis was not so 
 highly edified, either by the quarrel or by Romeias's 
 way of making peace, that she cared to stay any 
 longer. Her companions, following their own in- 
 clinations, were already on their way back. 
 
 " Hares cannot be worth much here, as you throw 
 them about so unceremoniously/' she said to the 
 watchman. 
 
 " Not much," laughed Romeias, " yet the present 
 deserved thanks, at least." 
 
 That instant the skylight in Wiborad's roof was 
 thrown open ; about half of her gaunt lean figure 
 became visible, and a stone of some weight flew 
 over Romeias's head, without hitting him. That 
 was her way of thanking him for the hare. 
 
 From this can be seen that the forms of social 
 intercourse differed widely from those of to-day. 
 
 Praxedis expressed her astonishment.
 
 5 2 EKKEHARD 
 
 " Oh, such things happen about once a fortnight," 
 explained Romeias. " A moderate supply of venom 
 and wrath gives new strength to such old hags^ and 
 and it is a good work to stir them up." 
 
 " But she is a saint," said Praxedis, shyly. 
 
 At that Romeias muttered some unintelligible 
 words in his beard. '• Well," said he, " she ought 
 to be happy if she is one. I am not going to tear 
 off her garb of sanctity.^^ But since I was at Con- 
 stance on a visit to my aunts, I have heard all sorts 
 of things that seem not quite as they ought to be. 
 It has not yet been forgotten in those parts how she 
 had to defend herself before the bishop on account 
 of this thing and that thing which is none of my 
 business; and the Constance merchants will tell 
 you, without your asking them, that the recluses near 
 the cathedral lend them, at usurious interest, the 
 money given to them by pious pilgrims. °2 it w-as 
 not my fault that once, when I was a boy, I found 
 in a quarry a strange big pebble. When I ham- 
 mered it to pieces there was a toad in the middle, 
 looking very much astonished. Since then I know 
 what a recluse is like. Snip-snap — trari-trara ! " 
 
 Romeias accompanied his new friend to the house 
 which lay beyond the cloister walls, and which was 
 destined to receive her. Before it the other maids 
 were standing, and the posy of wild flowers they had 
 gathered lay on a stone table before the door, 
 
 " We must say good-bye," said the watchman. 
 
 '* Farewell," said Praxedis. 
 
 So he went away. After going thirty steps he 
 suddenly turned round, — but the sun does not rise
 
 WIBORADA RECLUSA 53 
 
 twice in one day ; least of all for the watchman of a 
 monastery -gate ! No one now was kissing her hand 
 to him. Praxedis had entered the house. 
 
 Then Romeias slowly walked back, and without 
 troubling himself to ask leave, hastily took up the 
 flowers from the stone table, and went away. The 
 stag and four hares he brought to the kitchen. After 
 this he toiled up to his room in the watch-tower, 
 nailed the nosegay to the wall, and with a piece of 
 charcoal, drew a heart under it, which had two eyes, 
 a long stroke in lieu of a nose, and a cross-line for a 
 mouth. 
 
 The cloister-pupil Burkhard came up to have some 
 sport with him. Romeias seized him with a power- 
 ful grasp, held out the charcoal, and placing him 
 before the wall, said : " There, write the name 
 under it ! " 
 
 " What name ? " asked the boy. 
 
 "Hers," commanded Romeias. 
 
 "What do I know about her, and her name," 
 testily replied the pupil. 
 
 " There, one can see again what the good of study- 
 ing is ! " grumbled Romeias. " Every day the boy 
 sits for eight hours behind his asses'-skins, and does 
 not know the name of a foreign damsel ! "
 
 54 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 IN THE MONASTERY. 
 
 Frau Hadwig had meanwhile been performing her 
 devotions at the tomb of St. Gallus. Then the abbot 
 was intending to propose a walk in the shady 
 cloister-garden, but she asked him first of all to show 
 her the treasures of the church. The mind of woman, 
 however intellectual, always delights in ornaments, 
 jewels, and fine garments. The abbot invented some 
 excuse to dissuade her from this wish, saying that 
 theirs was but a poor little monastery, and that his 
 cousin must have seen far better things on her 
 travels, or at the emperor's court; it was all in 
 vain. 
 
 So they w^ent to the sacristy. 
 
 He had the cupboards opened first. Here there 
 was much to admire in the way of purple chasubles 
 and embroidered priest's garments, and worked pic- 
 tures representing sacred history. Here and there 
 was also some piece strongly reminding one of 
 Roman heathenism, such, for instance, as the mar- 
 riage of Mercury with Philolog)^ 
 
 Then large chests were opened, revealing a daz- 
 zling array of precious metals : silver lamps and 
 crowns; finely wrought frames of beaten gold for the 
 holy books ; and ornaments for the altar. ^^ Monks, 
 fastening them round their knees, had safely brought 
 
 J
 
 IN THE MONASTERY. 55 
 
 these things from Italy, over dangerous alpine paths : 
 costly vessels in all sorts of curious forms ; can- 
 dlesticks in the shape of dolphins ; drinking-cups 
 resting on pillars like lighthouses ; censers, and many 
 other beautiful articles, a rich treasure. There was 
 also a chalice, made of a single piece of amber, which 
 glistened exquisitely when held to the light. A small 
 piece was broken off from the edge. 
 
 "When my predecessor Hartmuth was dying," 
 said the abbot, "that little bit was pulverized and 
 given to him, mixed with wine and honey, to calm 
 the fever." 
 
 In the middle of the amber was a tiny fly, as well 
 preserved as if it had but just settled down there. 
 Probably the little insect, sitting contentedly on i^s 
 blade of grass, in antediluvian times, when the liquid 
 resin streamed over it, little dreamed that it would 
 thus be bequeathed to far-off generations. 
 
 But such dumb testimonials of Nature's powers 
 were little heeded at that time. At least the cham- 
 berlain Spazzo, who was surveying and examining 
 everything with a careful eye, was occupied with 
 very different ideas. He was thinking how much 
 pleasanter it would be to be on war-terms with these 
 pious monks, and instead of enjoying their hospitality 
 as guests, to enter by storm, and carry all the treas- 
 ures away. Having witnessed in his time many a 
 reversal of friendship between the high-born, he was 
 inwardly speculating on this possibility, and keenly 
 eyeing the entrance to the sacristy, he murmured to 
 himself: " Coming from the choir, 'tis the first door 
 to the right ! "
 
 56 EKKEHARD 
 
 The abbot, who probably thought likewise that 
 prolonged examination of gold and silver produced 
 a hankering for possession, omitted opening the 
 last box, which contained the most magnificent 
 things of all, and urgently proposed going into the 
 open air. 
 
 So the party directed their steps toward the 
 garden, which was spacious, and produced much 
 vegetable and fruit for the kitchen, as well as useful 
 herbs for medicines. 
 
 In the orchard a large portion was divided off 
 and reserved for wild beasts and birds, such as 
 were to be found in the neighboring Alps, or had 
 been sent as presents by foreign guests.°^ 
 ^ Frau Hadwig took great pleasure in looking at 
 the rough uncouth bears, which were funny enough, 
 climbing up and down on the tree in their prison. 
 Close to these a pug-nosed ape and a long-tailed 
 monkey, chained together, played their merry gam- 
 bols, — two creatures, neither of which, says a poet 
 of that time, can show a single trace of the faculty 
 of making itself useful, whereby to establish a 
 claim to existence. ^^ 
 
 There was an old chamois in a narrow enclosure : 
 this native of the upper Alps let his head droop, 
 and stood immovable and humiliated. Since he 
 had been deprived of the keen atmosphere of the 
 glaciers, he had become blind; for not every crea- 
 ture thrives on the low lands where men dwell. 
 
 In another cage a large family of thick-skinned 
 badgers was established. On passing them the evil
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 57 
 
 " Hullo, you miserable little beasts, chosen game 
 of the monastery menials ! " 
 
 Then in another direction were heard shrill 
 whistles : a troop of marmots quickly scuttled off 
 to hide themselves in the chinks and crevices of 
 the artificial rockery. Frau Hadwig had never 
 beheld such amusing little creatures before. The 
 abbot told her of their mode of life. 
 
 " They sleep more than any other creatures," said 
 he ; " and even when they are awake they must have 
 their wonderful dreams, for when winter approaches, 
 they gather up grass and hay wherever they find it, 
 and one of them lies down on its back, and sticks 
 up its four feet, while the others put on it everything 
 they have scraped together, and then seize it by 
 the tail, and drag it like a loaded cart into their 
 holes. ^'^ 
 
 Then said Sindolt to the stout chamberlain 
 Spazzo : " What a pity that you are not a marmot ; 
 that would have been a charming occupation for 
 you." 
 
 When the abbot had gone on, the evil Sindolt 
 began to give a new sort of explanation : " That is 
 our Tutilo," said he, — pointing to a bear which had 
 just thrown down one of its companions, — "that 
 the blind Thieto," — pointing to the chamois; and 
 he was on the point of honoring the abbot with 
 some flattering comparison, when the duchess in- 
 terrupted him by saying : " As you are so clever in 
 finding comparisons, have you one for me also?" 
 
 Sindolt became embarrassed. Luckily a beautiful 
 silver-pheasant happened to be standing near the
 
 58 EKKEHARD 
 
 cranes and herons, preening its shining pearly gray 
 feathers in the sunshine. 
 
 " There ! " said Sindolt. 
 
 But the duchess turned to Ekkehard, who was 
 dreamily gazing at the swarm of living creatures. 
 
 " Do you agree with him ? " asked she. 
 
 He started up. " Oh, mistress ! " said he, in soft 
 tones, " who is so audacious as to compare you to 
 anything that flies or crawls here ? " 
 
 " But if we desire it ? " . . . 
 
 " Then I only know of one bird," said Ekkehard. 
 "We have not got it, nor has any one; in star-lit 
 midnights it flies high over our heads, brushing the 
 sky with its wings. The bird's name is Caradrion ; 
 and when its pinions touch the earth a sick man is 
 healed. Then the bird, inchning toward the man, 
 opens its beak over his mouth, and taking the man's 
 sickness unto itself, journeys to the sun, and puri- 
 fies itself in the eternal light ; and the man is 
 saved." ^s 
 
 The abbot's return put a stop to further compar- 
 isons. One of the serving brothers was sitting in 
 an apple-tree, picking the apples, and putting them 
 into baskets. When the duchess came into the 
 shadow of the tree, he started to descend, but she 
 made him a sign to stop where he was. 
 
 Then sounds hke the singing of sweet boyish 
 voices were heard in the lower part of the garden. 
 The younger pupils of the monastery home schools 
 were on their way to do homage to the duchess. 
 Children though they were, the little fellows already 
 wore the cowl, and several even had the tonsure
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 59 
 
 on their eleven-year-old heads. When the pro- 
 cession of little rosy-cheeked future abbots came 
 in sight, with down-cast eyes fixed on the ground 
 and singing their sequences so seriously, a slight 
 mocking smile played round Frau Hadwig's lips, 
 and with strong foot she upset the nearest of the 
 baskets, so that the apples rolled about merrily on 
 the ground in the midst of the boys. But undis- 
 tracted they proceeded on their way ; only one of 
 the youngest started to pick up the tempting fruit, but 
 his little companion held him firmly by the girdle.°® 
 
 Much pleased, the abbot witnessed the young 
 folks' excellent behavior, and said, " Discipline dis- 
 tinguishes human beings from animals, ^'^ and if you 
 were to throw the apples of the Hesperides among 
 them, they would remain steadfast." 
 
 Frau Hadwig was touched. " Are all your pupils 
 so well trained t " she asked. 
 
 " If you like to be convinced," said the abbot, 
 "you will see that the elder ones in the day school 
 know quite as well the meaning of obedience and 
 submission." 
 
 The duchess nodded assent. Then the abbot 
 led her into the outer monastery school, in which 
 the sons of noblemen, and those who intended to 
 join the secular clergy, were educated. 
 
 They entered the upper class. On the lecturer's 
 platform stood Ratpert the learned, who was train- 
 ing his pupils in Aristotle's logic. The young 
 scholars sat poring over their parchments, scarcely 
 lifting their eyes to look at the party now entering. 
 The teacher thought this an opportunity to gather
 
 60 EKKEHARD 
 
 some laurels. " Notker Labeo ! " he called out 
 This was the pearl amongst his pupils, the hope of 
 science, who on a weakly body carried a powerful 
 head, with an under-lip critically protruding, the 
 symbol of great determination and perseverance on 
 tne stony roads of investigation, and the cause of 
 his surname, 
 
 "He will get on," whispered the abbot. " When 
 he was only eleven he said that the world was a 
 book, and that the monasteries were the classical 
 passages in it."^^ 
 
 The young man in question let his wise little eyes 
 glide over the Greek text, and then translated with 
 impressive gravity the profundity of the Stagirite 
 philosophy : — 
 
 If on a stone or piece of wood you find a straight 
 litie running tiwoiigh^ that is the coniniofi line of 
 demarcation of the parts that are in contact. If the 
 stone or wood split along that line, then we behold 
 two intersections 7iear the visible line of cleavage, 
 where there was only one line before. And more- 
 over, we see two ?iew surfaces which are as broad as 
 the object was thick, where Just before one could see 
 no new surface at all. From this it appears that 
 this object was cohere nt.^'^ 
 
 But when this concept of the Coherent had been 
 happily called out, some of the young logicians put 
 their heads together, and began to whisper, and the 
 whispers became louder and louder; — even the 
 monastery-pupil Hepidan, who, unmoved by Notker's 
 capital translation, had been employing all his skill 
 in carving on the bench before him a devil with a
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 6 1 
 
 double pair of wings, and a long curling tail, stopped 
 in his work. Then the teacher addressed the next 
 boy, with the question : " But how does the surface 
 become a mutual line of demarcation ? '' The youth 
 read the Greek text, but the commotion among the 
 school-benches became louder still ; there was a buz- 
 zing and booming like distant alarm-bells ; the trans- 
 lation ceased altogether. Suddenly, with a wild on- 
 slaught, all Ratpert's pupils rushed up noisily toward 
 the duchess, tore her from between the abbot and 
 the chamberlain, shouting, " Captured, captured ! " 
 and while making barricades with the benches, they 
 repeated their cries : " Captured ! the duchess of Sua- 
 bia- is our prisoner ! What shall be her ransom ? " 
 
 Frau Hadwig, in the course of her life, had 
 found herself in various situations ; but that she 
 could ever become the prisoner of schoolboys had 
 certainly never entered her head. But as this had 
 the charm of novelty, she submitted. 
 
 Ratpert the teacher took out of his cupboard 
 a mighty rod, and swinging it threateningly over 
 his head, like a second Neptune, he recited, in a 
 thundering voice, the verses of Vergil : — 
 
 taniane vos generis tennit fiducia vestri ? 
 iam caelitm terratnqiie, ineo sine ninnine, vcnti, 
 miscere, ei tantas audetis tollcre moles ? 
 quos ego — 
 
 " Can, oh, ye winds, vain trust in your headstrong tribe so mislead 
 
 you 
 That, without waiting my will, ye dare to raise such a tumult, 
 Mingling the waves of the sea and the clouds of the sky in 
 
 confusion, 
 Whom I ought—"
 
 62 EKKEHARD 
 
 A renewed shout was the answer. The room 
 was already divided by a wall of benches and stools. 
 Herr Spazzo was meditating an assault and vigorous 
 blows on the ring-leaders. The abbot was speech- 
 less ; this audacity had paralyzed his faculties. The 
 highborn prisoner stood at the farther end of the 
 schoolroom, in recess of a window, surrounded by 
 her fifteen-years-old captors. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this, ye wicked 
 boys ? " she asked with a smile. 
 
 Then one of the rebels advanced, bent his knee 
 before her, and humbly said : " He who comes as a 
 stranger is without protection or peace; and un- 
 peaceable people are kept prisoners, until they have 
 paid a ransom for their liberty." ^^ 
 
 " Do you learn that also out of your Greek 
 books?''' 
 
 " No, mistress ; that is German law." 
 
 " Very well, then ; I will ransom myself," said 
 Frau Hadwig. And laughing merrily, she seized 
 the red-cheeked logician and drew him toward her 
 to kiss him ; but he tore himself away, and joined the 
 noisy ranks of his companions, crying : — 
 
 " That coin we do not recognize ! " 
 
 " What ransom then do you exact ? " asked the 
 duchess, who was fast getting impatient. 
 
 " The Bishop Salomo of Constance was also our 
 prisoner," replied the pupil, " and he obtained for 
 us three extra holidays in the year, as well as a 
 feast of bread and meat, and furthermore secured 
 this to us in his will."^ 
 
 " Oh, gluttonous youth ! " said Frau Hadwig.
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 63 
 
 '-'■ Then I must at least do as much for you as the 
 bishop. Have you ever tasted the felchen from 
 the Bodensee? " 
 
 " No ! " shouted the boys. 
 
 "Then you shall receive six felchen a year to 
 remember me by. This fish is good for young 
 beaks." 
 
 " Do you secure this to us with your name and 
 seal ? " 
 
 " If it must be so, yes." 
 
 " Long life to the duchess of Suabia ! Hurrah ! " 
 was now shouted on all sides. " Hurrah ! she is 
 free." The school-benches were quickly put back 
 in order and the passage was cleared ; jumping and 
 shouting triumphantly they led back their prisoner. 
 
 In the background the parchment leaves of 
 Aristotle flew up into the air, as outward signs of 
 joy. Even the corners of Notker Labeo's mouth 
 were curved in a broad grin, and Frau Hadwig 
 said : — 
 
 " The young gentlemen were very gracious. Please 
 put the rod back into the cupboard, Herr professor." 
 
 Any further elucidation of Aristotle was out of 
 the question for that day. Was not the uproarious 
 outbreak of the pupils closely connected with their 
 study of logic ? Seriousness is often a very hollow, 
 dry, and leafless trunk ; else folly would scarcely 
 find room to wind her wanton green-leaved tendrils 
 around it. . . 
 
 When the duchess, with her escort, had left the 
 schoolroom, the abbot said : " There is nothing left 
 now to show you but the library of the monastery,
 
 64 EKKEHARD 
 
 the dispensar}- for souls hungry after knowledge, the 
 armory with its weapons of science." 
 
 But Frau Hadwig was tired ; she declined, 
 " I must keep my word," said she, " and put the 
 donation to your schoolboys in writing. Will you 
 be pleased to have the bond got ready, so that we 
 may provide it with signature and seal ? " 
 
 Herr Cralo conducted his guest to his apartments. 
 As they walked along the corridor, they passed a 
 small room, the door of w^iich was open. Close to 
 the bare wall stood a low pillar, from which, at the 
 height of a man's waist, hung a chain. Over the 
 portal, in faded colors, was painted a figure which 
 held a rod in its lean hand. 
 
 For whom the Lord loveth^ he chasteneth^ 
 And scourgeth every son whom he receiveth 
 
 (Heb. xii. 6) 
 
 was written under it in capital letters. 
 
 Frau Hadwig cast an inquiring look at the 
 abbot. 
 
 " The scourging-room ! '" ^^ replied he. 
 
 " Is none of the brothers just now liable to 
 punishment .'' " asked, she ; " it might be a warning 
 example.'' . . . 
 
 Then the evil Sindolt's right foot twitched as if 
 he had trodden on a thorn. He turned round, pre- 
 tending that he heard a voice in that direction 
 calling to him, exclaimed, '' I am coming," and 
 quickly vanished in the darkness of the passage. 
 
 He knew why. 
 
 Notker the stutterer, after the labor of years,
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 65 
 
 had at last completed a psalm-book, decorated with 
 dainty pen-and-ink drawings. This book the en- 
 vious Sindolt had destroyed at night, cutting it 
 to pieces and upsetting a jug of wine over it. On 
 account of this he had been sentenced to be flogged 
 three times, and the last instalment was still due. 
 He well knew the room, and the instruments of 
 penance on the walls, ranging from the nine-tailed 
 " scorpion " down to the simple " wasp." 
 
 The abbot urged them to hurry on. His rooms 
 of state were decorated with flowers. Frau Hadwig 
 threw herself into the primitive arm-chair, to rest 
 from the fatigue of all the sight-seeing. She had 
 received many new impressions within a few hours. 
 There was still half an hour left before supper. 
 
 Whoever, during this interval, had visited all the 
 cloister-cells, would have been satisfied that not a 
 single inhabitant of the institution was unaffected 
 by the influence of the distinguished visitor. Even 
 those who pass their lives in the deepest seclusion 
 feel that homage is due to woman. 
 
 The hoary Tutilo had remembered with a pang, 
 on the arrival of the duchess, that the left sleeve 
 of his cowl was adorned with a hole. Ordinarily 
 the sleeve would have remained unpatched until 
 the next great festival ; but now no postponement 
 availed. Armed with needle and thread, he was 
 sitting on his couch, busily mending the reni And 
 because he had his hand in, he also seized the op- 
 portunity to put new soles to his sandals, fastening 
 them with nails, and humming a tune to speed the 
 work. 
 
 VOL. I. — 5
 
 ^ EKKEHARD 
 
 Radolt, the little thinker, was walking up and 
 down in his cell with a deep frown on his forehead, 
 hoping that he would have a chance to praise the 
 virtues of the high-born guest in an improvised 
 speech. In order to heighten the effect of the spon. 
 taneous effusion, he was studying it beforehand. 
 He intended to take the fellowing lines of Tacitus, 
 "on the Germans," ^^ for a text: — 
 
 They believe also, that there is something holy about 
 wo^nen, and that they have the gift of seeitig i?ito the 
 future. Therefore they 7iever disdain the advice 
 give?t by them, and often follow their warnings. 
 
 This was about all that he knew from hearsay of 
 the other sex; but he winked his squirrel-eyes, and 
 was sure that he would find some way, from amid 
 his spiteful criticism on his brethren, to introduce a 
 panegyric on the duchess. Unfortunately the oppor- 
 tunity to bring on his speech failed him, for he did 
 not know how to seize it. 
 
 In another cell six of the brothers sat under the 
 huge ivory comb,^'^ which was suspended by an iron 
 chain from the ceiling. This was a very useful 
 institution established by Abbot Hartmuth. Mur- 
 muring the prescribed prayers, they assisted one 
 another in the careful arrangement of their hair. 
 Many an overgrown tonsure was restored to a shin- 
 ing smoothness at that time. 
 
 In the kitchen an activity that left nothing to be 
 desired was developed under the superintendence 
 of Ceroid the steward. 
 
 Now resounded the bell, the tone of which was 
 not heard even by the most pious of the brethren
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 6/ 
 
 without a pleasurable sensation ; it was the summons 
 to the evening meal. Abbot Cralo led the duchess 
 into the refectory. The cheerful room was divided 
 off by seven pillars, and around fourteen tables 
 stood the members of the monastery, priests and 
 deacons assembled like champions of the Church 
 Militant. They, however, paid no special attention 
 to the noble guest. 
 
 Ekkehard the door-keeper had the duty of reader ^^ 
 before the meals to fulfil that week. In honor of 
 the duchess he had chosen the 45th psalm. He 
 arose and began : " (9 Loi'd^ opeit thou my lips, that 
 7ny mouth 7Hay show forth thy praise; " and all re- 
 peated these words in a low murmur, as a blessing 
 on his reading. 
 
 Then he hfted his voice and began reciting the 
 psalm, which Scripture itself calls " a lovely song " : 
 
 My heart is inditing of a good matter ; I speak 
 of the things which I have made ujtto the King. 
 
 My tongue is the pen of a ready writer. 
 
 Thou art fairer than the. childrefi of 77ien ; fill of 
 grace are thy lips, because God hath blessed thee for 
 ever. 
 
 Gird thee with thy sword upo?i thy thigh, O thou 
 Most Mighty, accordittg to thy worship a7id re7iown. 
 
 Good luck have thou with thi7ie hoftor: ride on. 
 Because of the word of truth, of meek7iess a7td 
 righteousness ; and thy right ha7td shall teach thee 
 terrible things. 
 
 Thy a7'7'ows a7'e vc7y 'tharp, and the people shall 
 be subdued u7ito thee, even in the 7nidst a77tong the 
 Ki7ig's e7ie77iies.
 
 68 EKKEHARD 
 
 Thy seat, O God, endure th forever j the sceptre of 
 thy Kingdo?n is a right sceptre. Thou has loved 
 righteousness and hated iniquity j wherefore God, 
 even thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of 
 gladness above thy fellows. 
 
 All thy garments smell of myrrh, aloes, and cas- 
 sia ; out of the ivory palaces whereby they have made 
 thee glad. . . . ^9 
 
 The duchess seemed to understand the homage: 
 as if she herself were addressed in the words of the 
 psahn, she fixed her eyes on Ekkehard. But this did 
 not escape the abbot's notice, and he made a sign 
 to interrupt the reading; thus the psalm remained 
 unfinished, and all sat down to supper. 
 
 Herr Cralo could not, however, prevent Frau Had- 
 wig from ordering the zealous reader to take his place 
 by her side. According to rank this seat on her left 
 side had been destined for the old dean Gozbert ; but 
 he for the last few minutes had felt as if he were 
 doomed to sit on hot coals ; for he had once indulged 
 in a very rough-spoken dispute with Frau Had wig's 
 late husband, at the time when the latter carried off 
 the precious chalice, as an enforced war-contribution; 
 and from that time he had borne a grudge against 
 the duchess also. No sooner did he remark her 
 intention, than he gladly moved downwards, and 
 pushed the doorkeeper into the dean's seat. Next 
 to Ekkehard came Spazzo the duchess's chamber- 
 lain, and after him the monk Sindolt. 
 
 The meal began. The steward, well knowing 
 that the arrival of stranger guests sanctioned an 
 enlargement of the accustomed frugal monastery
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 69 
 
 fare, had not restricted himself to the ordinary 
 mush.'*^ Neither was the late Abbot Hartmuth's 
 strict bill of fare followedJ^ 
 
 To be sure, there appeared at first a steaming 
 dish of millet-porridge, so that those who preferred 
 strictly to adhere to the prescribed rule might sat- 
 isfy their hunger ; but after that, one dehcacy fol- 
 lowed another in quick succession. Side by side 
 with the haunch of venison stood the bear's ham ; 
 even the beaver of the upper pond had been robbed 
 
 of its life in honor of the occasion. Pheasants 
 
 » 
 
 partridges, turtle-doves, and a rich store of smaller 
 birds came in turn ; likewise an endless choice of fish ; 
 so that finally every species of animal such as wade, 
 crawl, fly, or swim, was represented on the table. 
 
 And many a monk fought a fierce battle within 
 the depths of his heart on that day; even Gozbert 
 the old dean. He had stilled the craving of hunger 
 with millet-porridge, and had pushed aside (with 
 a tremendous scowl) the roast venison and bear's 
 ham as if it were a temptation of the Evil One ; 
 but when a beautifully roasted moor-hen was put 
 down before him, he felt the odor thereof rise 
 temptingly into his nostrils, and with the savory 
 smell the memories of his youth came back : how 
 he himself had been a great sportsman forty years 
 before, and how he used to go out in the early 
 morning mist to shoot the mating black-cock, and 
 then he recalled the story of the gamekeeper's bright- 
 eyed daughter; and twice he resisted the movement 
 of his arm, but the third time it was no use, — half of 
 the bird lay before him, and was hastily despatched.
 
 70 EKKEHARD 
 
 Spazzo the chamberlain had watched with an 
 approving nod the appearance of the many dishes. 
 A large Rhine-trout,"'^ one of the best of fish, had 
 quickly disappeared under his hands ; and as he was 
 looking for something to drink, Sindolt, his neigh- 
 bor, seized a small stone jug, filled from it a metal 
 cup,. and handing it to him, said: "Your health in 
 the choicest wine of the monaster}-." 
 
 Herr Spazzo intended to take a copious draught, 
 but something like a fit of ague shook him, and 
 putting down the cup, he exclaimed, " Now let the 
 Devil be a monk ! " 
 
 The evil Sindolt had given him a sour cider, 
 made of crab-apples, and mixed with blackberry- 
 juice. But as Herr Spazzo looked ready to requite 
 him with a blow, he fetched a jug of the dark red 
 " ValteUiner," so as to soften his ire. The"Val- 
 telUner" is a capital wine, in which aforetime the 
 Emperor Augustus drowned his grief over the de- 
 feat of Varus.'^ By degrees Herr Spazzo's good 
 humor returned, so that, without knowing anything 
 about him, he even drained his beaker to the health 
 of the Bishop of Chur, to whom the monastery was 
 indebted for this wine, and Sindolt did not fail to 
 pledge his health like a boon companion. 
 
 '• What says your patron to such drinking ? " 
 asked the chamberlain. 
 
 'St. Benedict was a wise man," replied Sindolt; 
 " therefore he wrote in his law : — 
 
 " Although it has been ordained that wine is not on 
 the ivhole a suitable drink for monks^ yet as not a 
 single person at the present day can be persuaded of
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 7 1 
 
 the justice of this decree^ ajid since we must take into 
 consideration the weakness of the human jniftd, we 
 allow every one a bottle a day. N^o one^ however^ is 
 to drink to satiety j for wine will make even the 
 wisest swerve froin the path of wisdom.^'' . . . "^^ 
 
 " Good," said Spazzo, and drained his beaker. 
 
 " But on the other hand," asked Sindolt, " do you 
 know what is prescribed for those of the brother- 
 hood in whose district little or no wine grows? 
 They must praise the Lord and not complain ! " 
 
 "That's good, too," said Spazzo; and again he 
 drained his beaker. 
 
 Meanwhile the abbot was doing his beSt to enter- 
 tain his distinguished cousin. He first began to 
 eulogize the virtues of Herr Burkhard; but Frau 
 Hadwig's responses were but scanty and monosyl- 
 labic. Then the abbot made the discovery that every- 
 thing has its time; especially a widow's love for 
 her late spouse. So he changed the conversation, 
 and asked her how the cloister-schools had pleased 
 her. 
 
 " I feel sorry for the poor boys who are obliged 
 to learn so much in their young days," said the 
 duchess. " Do you not impose on them a burden 
 under which they must crouch all their lives ? " 
 
 " Pardon me, noble cousin," replied the abbot, 
 " if, both as friend and relation, I beg you not to 
 indulge in such thoughtless speech. The study of 
 science is no burdensome obligation for the young ; 
 it is like strawberries to them : the more they eat 
 the more they want." 
 
 " But what can the heathenish art of logic have
 
 'J2 EKKEHARD 
 
 to do with the study of theology?" asked Frau 
 Had wig. 
 
 "In proper hands it becomes a weapon to protect 
 God's church," said the abbot, " With such arts 
 many of the heretics used to attack believers, but 
 now we fight them with their own arms ; and believe 
 me, good Greek or Latin is a much finer weapon 
 than our native language, which even in the hands 
 of the ablest is but an unwieldy bludgeon." 
 
 "Indeed," said the duchess, "must we still learn 
 from you what is to be admired? I have existed 
 until now without speaking Latin, Sir Cousin." 
 
 "It would not harm you if you were even now to 
 learn it," said the abbot ; " and when the first 
 euphonious sounds of the Latin tongue shall have 
 gladdened your ear, you will admit that our mother 
 tongue is a young bear, which can neither stand 
 nor walk before it has been licked by a classical 
 tongue. . . ?^ Besides, the mouths of the old 
 Romans teach much wisdom. Just ask the man on 
 your left." 
 
 " Is it true ? " asked Frau Hadwig, turning toward 
 Ekkehard, who had b,een silently listening to the 
 foregoing conversation. 
 
 "It would be true, liege Lady," said he, warmly, 
 "if you needed to learn wisdom." 
 
 Frau Hadwig archly held up her forefinger. 
 " Have you yourself got recreation from those 
 old parchments ? " 
 
 " Both recreation and happiness," exclaimed 
 Ekkehard, with beaming eyes. " Beheve me, mis- 
 tress, it is well in all positions of life to come to the
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 73 
 
 classics for advice. Does not Cicero teach us how 
 to walk safely in the intricate paths of worldly 
 wisdom ? Do we not gather confidence and courage 
 from Sallust and Livy, the conception of imperish- 
 able beauty from the songs of Vergil ? The gospel 
 is the guiding-star of our faith ; but the old classics 
 have left a light behind them, like the glow of the 
 evening sun, which, even after it has set, sends re- 
 freshment and joy into the hearts of men." . . . 
 
 Ekkehard spoke with emotion. Since the day 
 on which the old Duke Burkhard had asked her 
 hand in marriage, the duchess had not seen any 
 one who showed enthusiasm for anything. She 
 was endowed with a high intellect, which readily 
 turned even to things foreign. She had learned 
 Greek very rapidly, in the days of her youth, on 
 account of the Byzantine proposal. Latin inspired 
 her with a sort of awe, because it was strange to 
 her. Unknown things easily impress us ; knowledge 
 leads us to judge things according to their real 
 worth, which generally is much less than we had ex- 
 pected. The name of Vergil, besides, had a certain 
 connection with the idea of magic. . . . 
 
 In that hour the resolution was formed in Had- 
 wig's heart to learn Latin. She had plenty of time 
 for this, and after having cast another look on her 
 neighbor Ekkehard, she knew who was to be her 
 teacher. . . . 
 
 The dainty dessert, consisting of peaches, melons, 
 and dried figs, had vanished also, and the lively 
 conversation at the different tables told of the dili- 
 gent circulation of the wine-jug.
 
 74 EKKEHARD 
 
 After the meal, in accordance with the rules of 
 the order, a chapter out of the Scriptures, or else the 
 lives of the holy fathers, had to be read for the 
 general edification. Ekkehard had begun, on the 
 day before, a description of the life of St. Benedict, 
 written by Pope Gregory. The brothers drew the 
 tables closer together ; the wine-jug came to a dead 
 stop, and all conversation was hushed. Ekkehard 
 continued with the second chapter:'" — 
 
 One day when he luas alone, the Tempter ap- 
 proached him J for a small black bird, commonly 
 called a crow, began to fly arotcnd his head, a?td 
 kept attacking him, approaching so that the holy 
 man ?night have captnred it with his hand if he 
 had so desired. 
 
 But he made the sign of the cross, and the bird 
 flew away. 
 
 N'o sootier, however, had the bird flown away, 
 than the fiercest temptation which the holy man had 
 ever yet expej'ienced assailed hijn. A considerable 
 time before he had beheld a certain woman. This 
 woma?i the Evil One ?iow caused to appear before 
 his mental eyes, and her beauty inflamed the heart 
 of God^s servant to such a degree that a devouring 
 love began to glow in his heart, and he almost re- 
 solved to leave his hermit-life, so strong was the 
 longing and desire within him. 
 
 But suddenly the Grace of God shed down upon 
 hijjt such a light that he returned to his better self. 
 And he beheld on one side a hedge of bra??tbles 
 and nettles, and he undressed and threw himself 
 naked into the thorns and stinging nettles, so that
 
 IN THE MONASTERY 75 
 
 when he wefit from that place his whole body was 
 lacerated. 
 
 And thus by meaiis of the woimds of the skin 
 he healed the wound of the spirit^ a7id Iiaving con- 
 quered sin., he was saved. . . . 
 
 Frau Hadwig was not greatly edified by this 
 reading. So she let her eyes wander about in the 
 hall in search of something to divert her thoughts. 
 The chamberlaiA Spazzo, — had the choice of the 
 chapter seemed to him also infelicitous, or had the 
 Valtelliner got into his head ? — with a sudden im- 
 pulse closed the book in the reader's hands so 
 vehemently that the wooden covers clapped to- 
 gether, and held up his beaker to him, saying, 
 "to the health of St. Benedict." 
 
 Ekkehard turned a reproachful look on him, but 
 the younger members of the brotherhood regarded 
 the toast as appropriate, and were already echoing 
 it noisily. Here and there they were striking up a 
 hymn in praise of the holy man ; this time to the 
 tune of a merry drinking-song, and loud joyous 
 voices rang through the hall. 
 
 While Abbot Cralo was looking about with a 
 somewhat dubious expression, and Herr Spazzo 
 was still busily engaged, with the younger clergy, 
 drinking to the health of their patron saint, P^rau 
 Hadwig leaned toward Ekkehard and asked him, 
 in a half whisper : — 
 
 "Would you teach me Latin, young admirer of 
 antiquity, if I felt inclined to learn it? " '' 
 
 Then Ekkehard heard in his heart something like 
 an echo of what he had read : " Throw thyself into the
 
 'j6 EKKEHARD 
 
 thorns and nettles, and say Xo ! " — but he replied, 
 " Command, and I obey." 
 
 The duchess once more gazed on the young 
 monk, with a pecuHar, fleeting glance, then turned to 
 the abbot, and talked of indifferent things. 
 
 The cloister brothers displayed as yet no incli- 
 nation to forego this day's unusual opportunity. In 
 the abbot's eyes shone a soft and lenient light, and 
 the cellarer also did not attempt to push the bolt 
 when the brothers descended with their empty wine- 
 jugs into the vaults below. 
 
 At the fourth table the old Tutilo began to get 
 jolly, and was telling the inevitable story of his ad- 
 venture with the two robbersJ^ Louder and louder 
 his powerful voice rang through the hall : — 
 
 " One of them turned to fly, — I after him with 
 my oaken stick ; he throws away spear and shield 
 to the ground, — I seize him by the throat, force 
 the spear into his hand : ' Thou knave of a robber, 
 why art thou in the world 1 Thou shalt fight with 
 me ! ' " . . . 
 
 But they had been obliged to hear it too often 
 already : how he had ^ split open the skull of his 
 enforced antagonist ; so they pulled at him and 
 urged him to sing some fine song, and when at last 
 he gave an assenting nod, some of them rushed out, 
 presently to return with their instruments. One of 
 them brought a lute, another a little violin with only 
 one string, a third a sort of dulcimer with metal 
 pegs which were manipulated with a tuning-key, 
 and a fourth a small ten-stringed harp. This last 
 curious-looking instrument was called a psalter,
 
 IN THE MONASTERY yy 
 
 and its three-cornered shape was held to be a 
 symbol of the Trinity."*^ 
 
 Then they gave him his baton of ebony. The 
 hoary artist rose smilingly from his seat, and gave 
 them the signal to play a piece of music, which he 
 himself had composed in his younger days. Gladly 
 the others listened ; ^° only Ceroid the steward 
 became rather melancholy on hearing the melodious 
 sounds ; he counted the dishes as they were carried 
 away empty, and the stone jugs, and like a text to 
 the melody the words vibrated through his mind, 
 " How much this one day has swallowed up in 
 goods and money ? " ^^ Softly he beat time with 
 his sandal-clad foot, until the last note had died 
 away. 
 
 At the foot of the table sat a silent guest, with 
 a pale olive complexion and black curly hair. 
 He came from Italy, and had accompanied the 
 mules, loaded with chestnuts and oil, from the 
 monastery estates across the Alps in Lombardy. 
 In melancholy silence, he let the floods of song 
 pass over him. 
 
 " Well, Master Giovanni," said Folkard the painter, 
 " has the fine Italian ear been satisfied ? The Em- 
 peror Julianus once compared the singing of our 
 forefathers to the screeching of v/ild birds ; but 
 since that time we have made progress. Did it not 
 sound lovelier in your ears than the singing of 
 swans ? " ^2 
 
 " Lovelier — than the singing of swans " — re- 
 peated the stranger in dreamy accents. Then he 
 arose, and quietly stole away. No one in the
 
 78 EKKEHARD 
 
 monastery ever read what he wrote down in his 
 journal that evening. 
 
 " These men on the other side of the Alps," 
 he wrote, "when they let the thunder of their voices 
 rise rumbling up to heaven, never can attain to the 
 sweetness of an artistic modulation. Truly barbar- 
 ous is the roughness of their wine-guzzling throats ; 
 and whenever they attempt, by sinking and then 
 raising their voices, to attain a melodious softness, 
 Nature shudders, for it resembles the creaking of 
 cart-wheels over frozen ground." . . . ^^ 
 
 Herr Spazzo bethought him to end praiseworth- 
 ily what he had begun so praiseworthily : he stole 
 quietly across the courtyard to the building where 
 Praxedis and her companions were, and said, " You 
 are to come to the duchess, and that at once." 
 
 At first the maidens laughed at his cowl ; then 
 they followed him into the hall, as there was no 
 one to keep them out ; and as soon as the maids 
 became visible at the entrance of the refectory-, a 
 buzzing and murmuring and a turning of heads 
 began, as if a dancing and jumping were now to 
 take place such as these walls had never before 
 experienced. 
 
 Herr Cralo the abbot, however, looked at the 
 duchess, and exclaimed : " My Lady Cousin ! " and 
 he said it with such a touching, woe-begone expres- 
 sion that she started up from her rever)-. And 
 suddenly she looked with different eyes than before 
 on her chamberlain and herself, in their monk's 
 habits, and on the rows of carousing men. The 
 faces of the more distant ones were hidden bv their 
 
 I
 
 IN THE MONASTERY /g 
 
 projecting hoods, so that it seemed as if the wine 
 were pouring down into empty cowls ; and the bois- 
 terous music rang in her ears as if it were a part 
 of a mad masquerade, that had already lasted too 
 long. . . . 
 
 So she said : " It is time to go to bed," and 
 went with her suite over to the school-house, where 
 she was to rest that night. 
 
 " Do you know what would have been the reward 
 of dancing ?" asked Sindolt of one of his fellow 
 monks, who seemed extremely sorry at this turn 
 of affairs. The monk stared at him. Then Sin- 
 dolt made a gesture which unmistakably meant, 
 " Scourging."
 
 80 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER V, 
 
 ekkehard's departure. 
 
 Early the next morning the duchess and her 
 attendants mounted their steeds to ride homewards ; 
 and when she forbade all parting ceremonies, the 
 abbot did not urge her. Therefore perfect quiet 
 reigned in the monaster}-, even while the horses were 
 neighing impatiently. Only Herr Cralo came over, 
 knowing well what good manners demanded. 
 
 Two of the brothers accompanied him. One of 
 them carried a handsome crystal cup with a finely 
 wrought silver foot and cover in which was set many a 
 pretty bit of onyx and emerald. The other carried a 
 small jug of wine. The abbot, pouring out some into 
 the cup, wished good speed to his noble cousin, and 
 begged her to drink the parting draught with him, 
 and to keep the cup as i. friendly remembrance.^"* 
 
 In case the gift should not be deemed sufficient, 
 he had in the background still another curious article, 
 which, though made of silver, had a very insignifi- 
 cant appearance, as it bore close resemblance to an 
 ordinary loaf of bread. Inside, this was filled to 
 the brim with gold-pieces.^^ The abbot did not in- 
 tend to mention this prematurely, but kept it care- 
 fully hidden under his cowl.
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 8 1 
 
 Frau Hadwig took the proffered cup, pretended 
 to sip a little, and then handed it back, saying : — 
 
 " Pardon me, dear cousin ; what shall a woman do 
 with that drinking-vessel ! I claim another parting 
 gift. Did you not speak of the wells of wisdom 
 yesterday ? Give me a Vergil out of your library ! " 
 
 "Always jesting," said Herr Cralo, who had ex- 
 pected a more momentous demand. " What good 
 can Vergil do you ? You do not know the language." 
 
 " Of course you must give me the teacher with it," 
 seriously replied the duchess. 
 
 But the abbot shook his head dubiously. " Since 
 when are the disciples of St. G alius given away as 
 parting gifts ? " 
 
 But tli^ duchess said: "Now, really, you under- 
 stand me. The fair-haired doorkeeper shall be my 
 teacher ; and three days hence, at the latest, he and 
 the volume of Vergil shall make their appearance at 
 my castle ! Take notice ! the settlement of the dis- 
 puted land in the Rhine valley, and the confirmation 
 of the monastery's privileges in Suabia, are m my 
 hands; and I am not disinclined to erect a small 
 cloister for > the disciples of St. Gallus on the rocks 
 of the Hohentwiel. . . . Farewell, cousin ! " 
 
 Then Herr Cralo, with a melancholy look, signed 
 to the serving-monk to carry the chalice back to the 
 the treasury. Frau Hadwig gracefully extended her 
 right hand to him, the steeds pawed the ground, 
 Herr Spazzo waved his hat, and the cavalcade, 
 at an easy gallop, rode away from the monastery, 
 homewards. 
 
 From the window of the watch-tower an im- 
 
 VOL. I. — 6
 
 82 EKKEHARD 
 
 mense nosegay was thrown after the parting guests ; 
 in the midst of it there shone at least half a dozen 
 sun-flowers, not to mention innumerable asters ; but 
 nobody picked it up, and the horses' hoofs passed 
 over it. . . . 
 
 In the dry moat outside the gate the day-scholars 
 of the monastery had hidden themselves. " Long 
 life to the duchess of Suabia ! Hail! hail! — and 
 she must not forget to send us the felchen ! " was 
 loudly shouted after her as a parting salutation. 
 
 " He who, as reward for his bad behavior, obtains 
 three holidays and the best fish of the lake, may well 
 shout," said Herr Spazzo. 
 
 Slowly the abbot went back to the monaster}^, and, 
 sending for Ekkehard the doorkeeper, said*o him : 
 
 " A summons has come for you. You are to take 
 a Vergil to the Duchess Hadwig, and become her 
 teacher. 'The old song of Maro may soften the 
 Scythian customs by their lovely melody,' is written 
 in Sidonius. I know that it is not your wish ..." 
 
 Ekkehard cast down his eyes, with a heightened 
 color. 
 
 " But we must not offend the mighty ones of this 
 earth. To-morrow you will start. 'T is with regret 
 that I let you go, for you are one of the best and 
 most dutiful here. St. Gallus will not forget the 
 service which you are rendering his foundation. 
 Don't omit to cut out of the Vergil the title-page, on 
 which is written the curse on him who takes the book 
 away from the monastery." ^^ . . . 
 
 What our hearts desire we gladly suffer to be put 
 on us as a duty.
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 83 
 
 " The vow of obedience," said Ekkehard, " obliges 
 me to do the will of my superior, without fear or 
 delay, without regret or murmur." 
 
 He bent his knee before the abbot, and then went 
 to his cell. It seemed to him as if he had been 
 dreaming. Since the day before, almost too much 
 had happened to him. It is often so with men. Dur- 
 ing a long time hfe flows monotonously; but when 
 che turning-point of Fate comes, one change follows 
 another. He prepared himself for the journey. 
 
 What thou hast begiin^ leave unfinished ; with- 
 draw thy hand from the work it was e7nployed on^ 
 and go away in the path of obedience. He scarcely 
 needed to remind himself of this portion of the 
 rules. 
 
 In his cell lay the parchment-leaves of a psalm- 
 book,^'' which had been written and illustrated by 
 Folkard's masterly hand. Ekkehard had been com- 
 missioned to finish up all the initials with the pre- 
 cious gold-color which the abbot had lately bought 
 from a Venetian merchant ; and by adding delicate 
 golden lines to the crowns, sceptres, and swords, as 
 well as to the borders of the mantles, to give the last 
 touch to the figures. 
 
 He took up parchment and colors, and brought 
 them over to his companion, that he might finish the 
 work himself. Folkard was engaged in composing 
 a new picture, — David playing the lute and dancing 
 before the ark of the Covenant. He did not look 
 up, and FLkkehard silently left the studio again. 
 
 After this he went to the library to get the Vergil; 
 and, as he stood all alone in the high-arched hall,
 
 84 EKKEHARD 
 
 among the silent parchments, a feeling of mel- 
 ancholy came over him. Even lifeless things, when 
 we are about to take leave of them, seem to possess 
 a soul, and to share some of the feelings which are 
 stirring our own hearts. 
 
 The books were his best friends. He knew them 
 all, and knew who had copied them. Some of the 
 manuscripts reminded him of companions whom 
 death had already gathered. 
 
 " What will the new life, which begins to-mor- 
 row, bring to me ? " he asked himself. A tear stood 
 in his eye. At that moment his gaze fell on the 
 small metal-bound glossary, in which St. Gallus, 
 not knowing the language spoken by the people 
 around the Bodensee, had caused the parson at 
 Arbon to write down a translation into German of 
 the most necessary words. ^^ Then Ekkehard re- 
 called with how little help and preparation the 
 founder of the monastery had once set out, a 
 stranger, into heathen lands ; and how his God and 
 his courageous heart had kept him safe in all 
 dangers and sorrows. 
 
 His spirits rose ; he kissed the Httle book, took 
 the Vergil from the bobk-case. and turned to go. 
 
 Whoever carries away this book shall receive 
 a thoiisaiid lashes of the scoiwge ; ?nay palsy aiid 
 leprosy attack him 1 This was written on the title- 
 page. Ekkehard cut it out. 
 
 Once more he looked around, as if the books on 
 the shelves and in the cases were bidding him fare- 
 well. At that moment a rustling was heard on the 
 wall, and there fell from the nail that held it the
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 85 
 
 large plan ^^ which the architect Gerung had once 
 drawn on a piece of leather three feet long for 
 Abbot Hartmuth when he had wanted a new build- 
 ing to be added to the monastery A great cloud 
 of dust arose. 
 
 Ekkehard paid no heed to this. 
 
 As he walked along the passage of the upper 
 story, he passed an open chamber. This was 
 the old men's corner. The blind Thieto, ^*^ who 
 had once been abbot, until his waning eye-sight 
 had forced him to resign, was sitUng there. A 
 window was open so that the old man could enjoy 
 the warm sunny air. With him Ekkehard had 
 spent many an hour in friendly converse. The 
 blitid man recognized his step, and called him in. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " he asked. 
 
 " Downstairs, — and to-morrow I am going far 
 away. Give me your hand ; I am going to the 
 Hohentwiel." 
 
 " Bad, — very bad," muttered the old man. 
 
 " Why, Father Thieto ? " 
 
 " The service of women is an evil thing for him 
 who wishes to remain good. Court service is worse 
 still. What, then, are both together .? " 
 
 " It is my fate," said Ekkehard. 
 
 " St. Gallus keep you and bless you ! I will pray 
 for you. Give me my stick." 
 
 Ekkehard offered his arm, but he refused it. He 
 rose, and went to a niche in the wall, from which he 
 took a small vial and gave it to Ekkehard. 
 
 "It's water from the river Jordan, which I my- 
 self got. When the dust covers your face, and
 
 86 EKKEHARD 
 
 your eyes grow dim, then bathe them with it. It 
 does not help mine any more. Farewell." 
 
 On the evening of that same day Ekkehard was 
 climbing the little hill which rose behind the 
 monastery. This had long been his favorite walk. 
 The dark fir-trees were reflected in the fish-ponds 
 which had been artificially made there to supply 
 fish for the fast-days. A gentle breeze ruffled the 
 surface of the water ; the fish were swimming briskly 
 about. With a smile he stood by them, thinking, 
 " When shall I taste one of you again ? " 
 
 In the fir-wood on the top of the Freudenberg 
 there was solemn silence. There he stopped. An 
 extensive view spread before him. 
 
 At his feet lay the monastery, with all its build- 
 ings and walls. Here in the courtyard was the 
 well-known fountain; there the garden was full of 
 autumnal flowers : and in one long row were the 
 windows of the cloister cells. He knew each one, 
 and saw also his own : — 
 
 " May God protect thee, peaceful abode ! " 
 
 The spot where the days of strenuous youth have 
 been spent acts like a loadstone on the heart, which 
 requires so little to feel attracted. Only he is poor 
 to whom the mighty bustling life of this world has 
 not granted time to find a quiet resting-place — a 
 real home — for body and mind. 
 
 Ekkehard raised his eyes. Far away in the dis- 
 tance, like the fair prospect of the future, gleamed 
 the Bodensee's placid mirror. The line of 
 
 the opposite shore, and the peaks of the heights 
 behind, were hidden in a vague haze; only here
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 8/ 
 
 and there a bright light, and its reflection in the 
 water, indicated the dwelling-places of human 
 beings. 
 
 " But what means th^ darkness behind me ? " 
 He turned round and beheld the Santis rising with 
 its horns and pinnacles behind the fir-clad hills. On 
 the weatherbeaten crags flickered the warm sun- 
 beams, as they contended with the clouds and 
 lighted up the masses of old snow, which, in its 
 caves and crevices, lay awaiting the new winter. . . 
 Over the Kamor hung a heavy cloud; it grew 
 higher and bigger; soon the sun was obscured; a 
 wan gray hue veiled the mountain-peaks; it began 
 to lighten. . . 
 
 " Is that meant as a warning for me ? " said Ekke- 
 hard. " I do not understand it. My way is not 
 toward the Santis." 
 
 Full of thoughts, he descended to the valley 
 again. 
 
 In the night he prayed at the grave of St. Gallus. 
 Early in the morning he took his departure. The 
 Vergil and Thieto's vial were packed up in his knap- 
 sack, which also held the few other things that he 
 possessed. 
 
 He who has not even his own person, his wishes 
 and his desires at his free disposal, can still less 
 have any worldly possessions and goods. 
 
 The abbot gave him two gold-pieces and some 
 silver coins, as a travelling-penny. 
 
 In one of the monastery grain ships he crossed 
 the lake, a favorable wind filling the sail, and cour- 
 age and the joy of travel swelling his bosom.
 
 SS EKKEHAKD 
 
 At dinner-time the castle of Constance and the 
 cathedral and its towers became more and more 
 distinct. With a joyous bound, Ekkehard sprang 
 on shore. 
 
 In Constance he might have stopped and claimed 
 the hospitality of the bishop. He did not do so. 
 The place was disagreeable to him ; he hated it 
 from the bottom of his heart, — not for its position 
 or any lack of beauty (in that respect it is the open 
 rival of any town on the lake), but on account of the 
 memory of a man whom he detested. 
 
 This was Bishop Salomo, who had been lately 
 buried with great pomp in the cathedral. Ekkehard 
 was a simple-minded, straightforward, pious man. 
 To become proud and overbearing in the service 
 of the church seemed to him very wrong; to combine 
 this with worldly tricks and knavery highly blamable ; 
 and to remain famous, in spite of wickedness of 
 heart, most extraordinar}-. Such, however, had been 
 the Bishop Salomo's career. 
 
 Ekkehard well remembered hearing from older 
 companions how the young nobleman had forced his 
 way into the monastery and acted as spy ; how he 
 had managed to represent himself as indispensable 
 to the emperor, until the mitre of an abbot of St. 
 Gall, together with that of a bishop of Constance, was 
 placed on his brow. 
 
 And the children in the streets sang of the fate 
 which had befallen the messengers of the exchequer. 
 The intriguing prelate had provoked and insulted them 
 till they had recourse to feudal law, and made him 
 prisoner; but though Herr Erchanger's wife Berchta
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 89 
 
 tended and nursed him like her lord during his 
 captivity, and begged him for the kiss of peace, and 
 ate out of the same plate with him, his spirit of 
 vengeance was not appeased until the emperor's law 
 court at Adingen laid the heads of his fierce enemies 
 at his feet 
 
 And the daughter whom he had begotten in the 
 gay days of his student-life was even then abbess in 
 the cathedral at Zurich.^^ 
 
 All this was known to Ekkehard : he did not like 
 to pray in the church where that man was buried. 
 
 It may be unjust to transfer the hatred which is 
 felt for men to the place where they have lived and 
 died, but it is comprehensible. 
 
 He shook the dust of Constance from his feet, 
 and strode out of the city-gate, keeping on the left 
 of the stripling Rhine where it had but just issued 
 from the lake. 
 
 He cut for himself a strong walking-stick from 
 a hazel-bush. " As the rod of Aaron which budded 
 in the temple of God distinguished his race from 
 that of the degenerate Jews, so may this staff, blessed 
 by the abundance of God's grace, be my protection 
 against the evil ones on my path," he said, in the 
 words of an old blessing on walking-sticks.^^ 
 
 His heart beat with pleasure as he walked on his 
 solitary way. 
 
 How full of hope and joy is he who in the days 
 of his youth goes out on unknown paths to meet an 
 unknown future, with the wide world before him, 
 a blue sky over-head, and the heart fresh and trust- 
 ing, as if his pilgrim-staff, wherever he plants it in
 
 90 EKKEHARD 
 
 the ground, must produce leaves and blossoms, and 
 bring forth good fortune like golden apples on its 
 boughs. Walk briskly on ! The day will come when 
 thou also wilt drag thyself wearily along on the dusty 
 highway, w^hen thy staff will be but a dry withered 
 stick, when thy face will be pale and worn, and the 
 children will be pointing their fingers at thee, laughing 
 and asking, " Where are the golden apples ? " . . . 
 
 Ekkehard was truly light-hearted and content. To 
 sing merry songs was not becoming for a man of his 
 calling; it was the song of David which he now 
 began : — 
 
 The Lord is my s1iephe7'd ; therefore can I lack 
 nothing. He shall feed me in a green pasture : 
 and lead 7ne forth beside the waters of comfort; 
 and this may have been registered in heaven in the 
 same book in which the guardian-angels of youth 
 put down the merry songs of wandering scholars 
 and 'prentice lads. 
 
 His path took him through meadows and past 
 marshes filled with tall reeds. A long and narrow 
 island called Reichenau — Rich Meadow — stretched 
 out in the lake. The towers and walls of the mon- 
 astery were mirrored'in the placid waters; vineyards, 
 meadows, and orchards testified to the industry of 
 the inhabitants. 
 
 Two hundred years previously the " Meadow " was 
 only a barren waste, a damp morass, the dwelHng- 
 place of hideous crawling things and poisonous 
 snakes. But the Austrian Governor Sintlaz invited 
 over the itinerant Bishop Pirminius, who pronounced 
 a solemn blessins on the island. Then the snakes 
 
 I
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 91 
 
 and scorpions went away in great masses, — myria- 
 pods as skirmishers in the van, together with earwigs 
 and scorpions and all other crawling things in care- 
 fully arranged columns, while toads and salamanders 
 brought up the rear. Nothing could resist the 
 curse which the bishop had pronounced over them. 
 The swarm directed its course down to the shore, to 
 the spot where afterwards the castle Schopfeln was 
 built, and thence they fell into the green waters of 
 the lake ; and the fish had a good meal on that 
 day. . . . 
 
 From that time the monastery founded by St. 
 Pirmin had flourished, — a greenhouse of monastic 
 discipline, of good repute in German lands. 
 
 Reichenau, island of verdure, how far above all art thoit 
 
 favored ! 
 Rich in treasures of knowledge and rich in thy virtuous 
 
 people, 
 Rich in the fruits of thy orchards, the swelling grapes of thy 
 
 vineyards, 
 Ever thy lily abloom, in the mirror-like lake is reflected : 
 Far. thy fame is spread to the misty land of tlie Britons ! 
 
 Thus, as early as in the days of Ludwig the Ger- 
 man, sang the learned monk Ermenrich ^^ when in 
 his abbey of Ellwangen a longing for the glittering 
 waters of the Bodensee came over him. 
 
 Ekkehard resolved to pay a visit to this rival of 
 his monastery. On the white sandy shore of Erma- 
 tingen a fisherman was standing in his boat, baling 
 out water. Ekkehard pointed with his staff toward 
 the island and said, " Row me over there, my good 
 friend."
 
 92 EKKEHARD 
 
 The monastic dress in those days gave weight to 
 all demands. 
 
 But the fisherman peevishly shook his head and 
 said : " I will not take any more of you over, since 
 you fined me a shilling, at the last session-day." 
 
 " Why did they fine you ? " 
 
 " On account of the Kreuzmann ! " 
 
 " And who is the Kreuzmann ? " 
 
 "The Allmann." 
 
 " He likewise is unknown to me,'" said Ekkehard. 
 " What does he look like ? " 
 
 " He is made of metal," grumbled the fisher- 
 man, "two spans high, and holds three water-Hlies 
 in his hand. He was standing in the old willow- 
 tree at Allmannsdorf, and it was a good thing that 
 he stood there ; but at the last session they cut him 
 out of the tree, and carried him into their mon- 
 astery. So now he stands on that ItaHan bishop's 
 grave at Niederzell. What good does he do there ? 
 — Does he help dead saints to catch fish ? " ®-* 
 
 Then Ekkehard perceived that the fisherman's 
 Christian faith was as yet not very strong, and 
 now he knew why the bronze idol had cost him a 
 shilling's fine. He had sacrificed a kid to it at night- 
 time, in order that his draught of fishes might be 
 well blessed with felchen, trout, and perch ; and the 
 authorities had punished such heathenish backslid- 
 ing according to the imperial laws. 
 
 " Be sensible, old friend," said Ekkehard, " and 
 forget the Allmann. I will give you a good part of 
 your shilling, if you will set me across." 
 
 " What I say," replied the old man, " shall not
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 93 
 
 be turned round like a ring on a finger. I will take 
 none of you over. My boy may do it if he likes." 
 
 He whistled through his fingers, and this brought 
 his boy, a tall boatman, who rowed him across. 
 
 When the boat touched shore Ekkehard walked 
 toward the monastery, which stands in the middle of 
 the island hidden among fruit-trees and vineyards. 
 
 The autumn was already advanced, and both 
 old and young were occupied with the vintage. 
 Here and there the hood of a serving-brother stood 
 out dark against the red and yellow vine-leaves. 
 On the watch-tower the fathers of the monastery 
 stood together in a group, enjoying the spectacle 
 of the busy crowd of grape-gatherers below. They 
 had just been receiving the benediction of the new 
 wine,^^ which was brought in a large marble vase, 
 believed to be one of the identical vessels used at 
 the marriage at Cana, Joyous greetings and dis- 
 tant shouts of merriment were heard in all the 
 vineyards. 
 
 Unobserved, Ekkehard reached the monastery; 
 but not until he was within a few steps of it did he 
 perceive the clumsy tower with its porches, the 
 arches of which are ornamented alternately with 
 red and gray sandstone. 
 
 In the court all was hushed and silent. A large 
 dog wagged its tail at the stranger, without giving 
 a single growl ; it never barked at any one wearing 
 a cowl. The beautiful autumn day had enticed all 
 the brotherhood into the open air.^^ 
 
 Ekkehard now entered the vaulted reception room 
 near the entrance. Even the doorkeeper's chamber,
 
 94 EKKEHARD 
 
 next to it, was empty. Open casks were standing 
 about ; some already filled with the newly pressed 
 wine. Behind these, against the wall, was a stone 
 bench ; Ekkehard was tired from his long walk, 
 and the lake breeze had been blowing freshly about 
 his head; he suddenly felt sleepy: so he put his 
 staff against the wall, stretched himself out on the 
 bench, and fell asleep. 
 
 Shortly after, a slow step approached the cool 
 room. This was the worthy brother Rudimann, 
 the cellarer. He carried a small stone jug in his 
 right hand, and had come to fulfil his duty by 
 tasting the new wine. The smile of a man con- 
 tented with himself and with the world was on his 
 lips ; and his belly had thriven well, like the house- 
 hold of an industrious man. Over it he wore a 
 white apron, and at his left side jingled a ponderous 
 bunch of keys. 
 
 As cellarer shall be chosen a wise 7nan, of ripe 
 jiidgjnent, sober and no glutton, no qiiarreller or 
 fault-finder, 7io idler and no spendthrift ; but a pious 
 7nan, who shall be to the whole brotherhood like a 
 father'^"'-, and, so far as the weakness of the flesh 
 allowed, Rudimann strove to unite in himself such 
 qualities as were requisite for the cellarer. At the 
 same time he had to perform the unpleasant duty 
 of inflicting the punishments ; and, whenever one of 
 the brothers became liable to a flogging, it was he 
 who tied him to the pillar, and no one could then 
 complain of the weakness of his arm. That he, 
 moreover, sometimes uttered malicious speeches 
 with a malicious tongue, and tried to entertain the
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 95 
 
 abbot with insinuations against his fellow-monks, — 
 like the squirrel Ratatoskr in the Edda,^^ which ran 
 up and down the ash-tree Yggdrasil, and repeated 
 the eagle's angry speeches at the top of the tree 
 to Nidhoggr the dragon at the bottom, — this was 
 not required of him : he did it of his own free will. 
 
 To-day, however, he wore a very benign and 
 mild expression, for which the excellent vintage was 
 responsible ; and he dipped his drinking-vessel into 
 an open cask, held it toward the window, and then 
 slowly sipped the thick liquid. He did not observe 
 the sleeping guest. 
 
 " This also is sweet," said he, " though it comes 
 from the northern side of the hill. Praised be the 
 Lord, who has taken into due consideration the 
 necessities of his servants on this island, and, after 
 so many meagre years, has given us a fat one, free 
 from acid ! " 
 
 Meanwhile Kerhildis the upper maid-servant, 
 passed the door, carrying a tub full of grapes to 
 the press. 
 
 "Kerhildis," whispered the cellarer, "most trust- 
 worthy of all maids, take my jug, and fill it with 
 new wine from the Wartberg, — which you will find 
 over there by the press, — that I may compare it with 
 this one." 
 
 Kerhildis the upper maid-servant put down her 
 load and went away, and, speedily returning, stood 
 before Rudimann with the jug in her hand. Archly 
 looking up at him, for he was a head taller than she 
 was, she said, " To your health." 
 
 Rudimann took a long, pious, comparative draught,
 
 96 EKKEHARD 
 
 so that the new wine might melt on his lips like 
 snow in the morning sun. 
 
 "It will all be sweet and good," said he, lifting 
 his eyes with emotion ; and that they then fell on the 
 maid-servant's beaming countenance was scarcely 
 the cellarer's fault, as she had had plenty of time in 
 which to retire. 
 
 So he continued with unction : " But when I look 
 at you, Kerhildis, my heart becomes doubly glad; 
 for you also thrive as the cloister-wine does this 
 autumn, and your cheeks are red like pomegranates 
 waiting to be plucked. Rejoice with me over the 
 goodness of this year, most faithful of all maids." 
 
 And the cellarer put his arm round the waist of 
 the dark-eyed maid,^^ who did not resist very strenu- 
 ously, — for what is a kiss at vintage time ? and, 
 besides, she knew Rudimann to be a man of sober 
 character, who did everything in moderation, as 
 befitted a cellarer. 
 
 The sleeper started up from his slumbers on the 
 stone bench. A peculiar noise, such as could be 
 caused by nothing else except by a well-meant and 
 well-applied kiss, struck his ear ; and looking through 
 the opening between the casks, he saw the cellarer's 
 garments, and flowing tresses which did not belong 
 to that habit. 
 
 He started up : ungovernable rage took possession 
 of him ; for Ekkehard was young and zealous, and 
 accustomed to the strict disciphne of St. Gall, and 
 he had never before dreamed that it was possible 
 for a man in the holy garb of the order to kiss a 
 woman. 
 
 I
 
 EKKEHAKD'S DEPARTURE 97 
 
 His stout hazel-staff still lay in his arm : he sprang 
 forward, and with it struck the cellarer a vigorous 
 blow, which extended from the right shoulder to the 
 left hip, and which fitted like a coat made according 
 to measure ; and before Rudimann had recovered 
 from the first shock, there followed a second and 
 third blow of the same description. He dropped his 
 pitcher, which was shattered to pieces on the stone 
 floor ; Kerhildis fled. 
 
 " In the name of the pitcher at the marriage at 
 Cana ! " cried Rudimann, " what is the meaning of 
 this ! " and turned round on his assailant ; then, for 
 the first time, the two looked into each other's 
 faces. 
 
 " 'T is a present which St. Gallus sends to St. 
 Pirmin," ^^o replied Ekkehard, fiercely, again raising 
 his stick. 
 
 " I might have guessed as much," roared the 
 cellarer, — "St. Gall's crab-apples! You may be 
 recognized by your fruits. Rough ground, rough 
 faith, and rougher people ! ^"^^ Wait for the return 
 present ! " 
 
 He looked about for some weapon : a good-sized 
 broom stood in the corner ; he armed himself with it, 
 and was just about to attack the disturber of his 
 peace, when a commanding voice called out from 
 the gate : — 
 
 " Stop ! Peace be with you ! " and a second voice, 
 with a foreign accent, exclaimed, *' What Holofernes 
 has sprung out of the ground here ? " 
 
 It was the Abbot Wazmann, who, with his friend 
 Simon Bardo, the former protospatliar^^' of the 
 VOL. I. — 7
 
 98 EKKEHARD 
 
 Greek emperor, was returning from blessing the 
 new wine. The noise of the quarrel had interrupted 
 a very learned exegesis by the Greek of the siege 
 of the town of Hai by Joshua, and the strategic 
 mistakes of the king of Hai' when he went out at 
 the head of his army toward the desert. The old 
 Greek commander — who had left his home so as not 
 to lose his strength of body and mind in the peace- 
 ful state of Byzantium — employed his leisure hours 
 very zealously in the study of tactics; and he was 
 jestingly called " the Captain of Capernaum," al- 
 though he had adopted the garb of the order. 
 
 " Let them have the fight out," cried Simon Bardo, 
 who had witnessed with regret the interruption of 
 the combat by the abbot. " In my dreams last 
 night I saw a rain of fiery sparks. That means 
 fighting." 
 
 But the abbot — in whose eyes the self-assumed 
 power of younger brothers was most obnoxious — 
 commanded peace, and desired to hear the cause 
 of the quarrel before him, that he might settle it. 
 
 Then Rudimann began to tell the story, and kept 
 back nothing. 
 
 "A slight misbehavior," murmured the abbot. 
 " Chapter forty-six : concerning misbehavior during 
 work-time, while gardening or fishing, in the kitchen 
 or cellar. Allemannic law : concerning that which 
 is done to maids. . . . Let the antagonist speak." 
 
 Then Ekkehard also told what he had witnessed, 
 and how he had acted on the impulse of a righteous 
 indignation. 
 
 " This is complicated," murmured the abbot.
 
 EKKEHARD'S DEPARTURE 99 
 
 " Chapter seventy : no brother shall dare to strike 
 a fellow-brother, without the abbot's sanction. 
 Chapter seventy-two : concerning that which is 
 becoming in a monk ; and v/hich leads to eternal 
 life. . . . How old are you ? " 
 
 " Twenty-three." 
 
 Then the abbot seriously resumed. " The quarrel 
 is ended. You, brother cellarer, may look on the 
 blows you received as just retribution for your for- 
 getf ulness ; and you, stranger from St. Gall, I might 
 well bid to continue your journey, for the laws say : 
 Whenever a stranger monk from distant provinces 
 enters a monasteiy^ he shall be satisfied with every- 
 thing he finds there ^ allowi7ig himself only to reprove 
 mildly^ and not making hiniself officious in atiy way. 
 In consideration of your youth, however, as well as 
 the blameless motive of your action, you shall be 
 allowed to pass an hour in devotion at the chief 
 altar of our church, in expiation of your rashness ; 
 and after that you will be welcome as the guest of 
 the monastery." 
 
 The abbot with his sentence fared as many an 
 impartial judge has fared before. Neither of the 
 adversaries was satisfied. They obeyed, but they 
 were not reconciled. While Ekkehard was per- 
 forming his expiatory prayers in the church, many 
 thoughts concerning good-will, timely zeal, and crit- 
 icising other people thereon, crossed his mind. It 
 was one of the first lessons he learned from contact 
 with other men. He returned to the monastery 
 by a little side-door. 
 
 What Kerhildis the upper-maid servant related
 
 100 EKKEHARD 
 
 that evening to her companions in the sewing-room 
 at Oberzell — where they had to make a dozen new 
 monks' habits by the flickering light of the pine- 
 wood — was couched in such very insulting terms 
 regarding the disciples of the holy Gallus that it 
 had better not be repeated here ! . . .
 
 MOENGAL lOI 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MOENGAL. 
 
 At the very time that Ekkehard was performing 
 his compulsory devotions in the monastery church 
 at Reichenau, Frau Hadwig was on the balcony of 
 the Hohentwiel looking out into the distance ; but 
 not toward the sunset, for the sun was going down 
 to his rest at her back, behind the dark hills of the 
 Black Forest : Frau Hadwig was looking with eager, 
 expectant eyes toward the lake, and the path which 
 led from it up to the Hohentwiel. The view, how- 
 ever, did not appear to satisfy her ; when the twi- 
 light faded into darkness she went in, rather dis- 
 contentedly, 1°^ ordered her chamberlain to come, 
 and conversed a long time with him. . . . 
 
 Early the next morning Ekkehard stood at the 
 threshold of the monastery, ready to continue his 
 journey. The abbot was also up betimes, and was 
 taking a walk in the garden. The serious look 
 of the judge was no longer visible on his face. 
 Ekkehard bade him good-bye. Then the abbot, 
 with a meaning smile, whispered in his ear, 
 " Happy man, who has to teach grammar to such 
 a fair pupil ! " These words cut Ekkehard to the 
 heart. An old story rose in his memory ; for even 
 within cloister walls there are evil tongues, and
 
 I02 EKKEHARD 
 
 traditional stories which go round from mouth to 
 mouth. 
 
 " You are probably thinking of the time, Holy- 
 Sir," replied he, tauntingly, " when you were in- 
 structing the nun Clotildis in the art of dialectics." i°* 
 
 Whereupon he went down to his boat. The 
 abbot would much rather have taken a pot of 
 pepper for his breakfast than have had that fact 
 called up to his mind. " A happy journey ! " he 
 called out after his departing guest. 
 
 From that time Ekkehard had to endure the 
 enmity of the monks at Reichenau. This, however, 
 he little heeded ; and was rowed down the lake by 
 the same boatman of Ermatingen. 
 
 Dreamily he gazed from his boat into the dis- 
 tance. Under the transparent mist of the morning 
 undulated the lake ; on the left arose the slender 
 turrets of Egino's cloister, Niederzell ; on the other 
 side the island stretched out its farthest points. A 
 large stone-built castle could be seen through the 
 willow-bushes, but Ekkehard's eyes were fixed on a 
 more distant point toward which he was sailing. 
 Proud and grand, in steep, bold outlines, a rocky 
 mountain-peak rose above the hills on the shore, 
 like the thought of a mighty spirit, which, ponder- 
 ous and pregnant with action, towers above the 
 dead level around. The morning sun was casting 
 bright gleams of light on the rocky edges and steep 
 walls. Far to the right several lower hills of the 
 same shape stood modestly like advance guards 
 posted there by the Mighty One. 
 
 " The Hohentwiel," said the boat-man to Ekke-
 
 MOENGAL 103 
 
 hard. The young monk had never before beheld 
 the place of his destination, but he did not need 
 the boatman's information. " Such must bfe the 
 mountain which she has chosen for her residence." 
 An earnest mood took possession of Ekkehard. 
 Mountain-peaks, wide ranges of water and sky, 
 splendid landscapes, always produce seriousness. It 
 is only the actions of men that bring a smile to the 
 lips of the spectator. He recalled the apostle John, 
 and how he went to the rocky Isle of Patmos, and 
 what a revelation had come to him there. . . . 
 
 The boatman rowed steadily onwards. They 
 were already approaching the precipitous cape on 
 which Radolfszell and a few scattered houses were 
 situated, when, suddenly, a strange little canoe put 
 into the lake. It was made of the hollow trunk of 
 a tree, but roofed over and quite covered up with 
 green boughs and water-rushes, so that the one who 
 directed it was invisible. The wind was drifting 
 it toward a thick plantation of water-reeds and 
 bulrushes near the shore. 
 
 Ekkehard ordered his boatman to stop this curi- 
 ous little craft, and in obedience he pushed his oar 
 into the green covering. 
 
 " Pestilence and leprosy befall you ! " called out 
 a deep bass voice from the inside ; '■'■ oletim et opcravt 
 perdidil All my labor's lost! Wild geese and 
 teal are gone to the Devil !'' 
 
 A covey of water- fowl, which, hoarsely shrieking, 
 rose up from the rushes and flew inland, corrobo- 
 rated the truth of this exclamation. 
 
 There was a rustling and pushing among the
 
 I04 EKKEHARD 
 
 leafy boughs, and a brown, weather-beaten, and 
 deeply furrowed countenance peered out. Its owner 
 was tlad in a faded stole, which had been cut off at 
 the knees by a knife in an unskilled hand, and 
 hung down in a ragged fringe. At the girdle, in- 
 stead of a rosary, was a quiver full of arrows : while 
 the strung bow lay at the bow of the boat. 
 
 " Pestilence and leprosy " — once more began 
 the occupant of the canoe ; but when he beheld 
 Ekkehard's tonsure and Benedictine garment, he 
 quickly changed his tone : " Hoiho ! salve con- 
 frater ! By the beard of St. Patrick of Armagh! 
 If your inquisitiveness had left me unmolested 
 another quarter of an hour, I might have invited 
 you to a goodly repast of the game of our lake." 
 With emotion he gazed at the covey of wild ducks 
 vanishing in the distance. 
 
 "Ekkehard smilingly lifted his fore-finger: '■'■ A'e 
 clericus venationi incitmbat ! No consecrated ser- 
 vant of God shall be a sportsman ! " ^^^ 
 
 " Your book-wisdom does not do for us at the 
 Untersee," exclaimed the other. "Are you sent 
 hither, perchance, to hold a church inspection for 
 the parish-priest of Ra^olfszell ? " 
 
 " The parish-priest of Radolfszell ? " inquired Ek- 
 kehard in his turn. •' Do I verily see the brother 
 Marcellus ? " 
 
 He cast a side-look on the sportsman's right arm, 
 from which the sleeve was turned back, and there 
 beheld, tatooed in rough outlines, a picture of our 
 Saviour, encircled by a serpent, over which stood 
 the words, " Christus vindex.'" i*^^
 
 MO^NGAL 105 
 
 " Brother Marcellus? " laughed the other, pushing 
 his hair back from his forehead, '•'' fuiimis Troes / 
 welcome in Moengal's realm ! " 
 
 He stepped out from his hollow tree into Ekke- 
 hard's boat; and, kissing him on cheek and fore- 
 head, said : " Health to St. Gallus ! And now let us 
 land together; you are my guest, even if we have no 
 wild ducks." 
 
 " I had conceived a very different idea of you," 
 said Ekkehard, — and this was not strange. 
 
 Nothing gives a more erroneous idea of men 
 than to come to the places where they once lived 
 and worked ; to see fragmentary relics of their 
 activity ; and from the remarks of those left behind 
 to form our impression of those that are gone. 
 That which is deepest and most characteristic of a 
 man is frequently unnoticed by others, even though 
 it be open to the day ; and in tradition it disappears 
 entirely. 
 
 When Ekkehard joined the monastery, the 
 brother Marcellus had already left it to assume the 
 priest's office at Radolfszell. Some neatly written 
 manuscripts, such as Cicero's '' De Officiis'' and a 
 Latin Priscian with Irish characters between the 
 lines, still kept up the remembrance of him. His 
 name, too, was held in great veneration in the inner 
 monastery-school, where he had been one of the 
 most distinguished teachers ; his life had been 
 blameless ; but since then nothing had been heard 
 of him at St. Gall. Therefore Ekkehard had ex- 
 pected to find a serious, kan, pale-faced scholar 
 instead of the lively sportsman of the lake.
 
 I06 EKKE*HARD 
 
 The shores of Radolfszell were soon reached. A 
 thin silver coin, stamped on one side only, satisfied 
 the boatman. ^^' They stepped on shore. A few 
 houses and rude fishermen's huts surrounded the 
 little church which holds the remains of St. Radolf. 
 
 " We have reached Moengal's dwelling," said the 
 old man. " Come in. It is to be hoped that you 
 will not carry tales about my house to the bishop 
 of Constance, like the deacon of Rheinau, who 
 pretended that he found the jugs and drinking- 
 horns of a size that ought to have been objection- 
 able in any century." ^^^ 
 
 They entered into a wainscoted hall. Stag-antlers 
 and bison-horns hung over the entrance ; hunting- 
 spears, lime-twigs, and fishing-tackle of every de- 
 scription ornamented the walls in picturesque con- 
 fusion. Close to an upturned cask in one corner 
 stood a dice-box. Had it not been the abode of 
 the parish-priest, it might have been imagined that 
 the imperial gamekeeper dwelt there. 
 
 In a moment a jug of somewhat sour wine was 
 placed on the oak table ; bread and butter was 
 fetched out of the storeroom ; and when the priest 
 returned from an expedition to the kitchen, he held 
 up his habit like a filled apron, and poured down a 
 shower of smoked fish before his guest. 
 
 " Heji / qitod anseres fugasti antvogelosque et horo- 
 tuijiblum / Alas that you should have frightened 
 away the wild geese, as well as the ducks and the 
 bittern! "10® said he; "but when a person has to 
 choose between smoke^ fish and nothing, he always 
 chooses the former."
 
 MOENGAL 107 
 
 Members of the same confraternity quickly be- 
 come friends. A lively conversation was kept up 
 during the meal. But the old man had more ques- 
 tions to ask than Ekkehard could answer. Of 
 many a one of his former brothers nothing else 
 was to be told than that his coffin had been laid in 
 the vault with the others ; a cross on the wall and 
 an entry in the death-register being the sole traces 
 left that he had ever lived. The stories, jokes, and 
 quarrels which had been told thirty years before 
 had been replaced by new ones, and all that had 
 happened since did not much interest him. Only 
 when Ekkehard told him about the end and aim of 
 his journey he exclaimed : " Hoiho, confrater ! how 
 could you cry out against all sport, when you your- 
 self aim at such a noble deer ! " 
 
 But Ekkehard turned the subject by asking: 
 " Have you never felt any longing for the quiet and 
 study within the monastery walls? " 
 
 At that question the parish-priest's eyes flashed : 
 " Was Catilina ever tortured by any longing for the 
 wooden benches of the Roman senate, after it was 
 said of him, excessit, evasit, erupii ? — Young men 
 cannot understand that. The flesh-pots of Egypt ! 
 ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes . . . said the dog 
 to the kennel in which he had lain seven years." 
 
 " No, I certainly do not understand you,'' replied 
 Ekkehard. " What was it that brought about such 
 a change in your views? " 
 
 He cast a side-glance at the sporting implements. 
 
 "Time," replied the priest, beating his fish on 
 the table to make it tender, ^' time and growinsr
 
 108 EKKEHARD 
 
 experience. But this you need not repeat to your 
 abbot. I also was once such a youth as you are 
 now ; for Ireland produces pious people, as is well 
 known here. Eheu I what a blameless being I was 
 when I returned with Uncle Marcus from our 
 pilgrimage to Rome.^^^ You should have seen the 
 young Moengal then ! The whole world was not 
 worth a gudgeon to him, while psalm-singing, vigils, 
 and spiritual exercises were his heart's delight. 
 Thus we entered the monastery of St. Gallus, — 
 for in honor of a countryman an honest Irishman 
 does not mind going a few miles out of his way, — 
 and finally I stayed there altogether. Clothes, books, 
 money, and knowledge, — the whole man became 
 the monastery's own, and the Irish Moengal was 
 called Marcellus, and threw his uncle's silver and 
 gold coins out of the window, so that the bridge 
 leading back to the world might be broken down. 
 Those were fine times, I tell you; for I fasted and 
 prayed and studied to my heart's content. 
 
 " But too much sitting is injurious to a man, and 
 much knowledge makes superilous work. Many an 
 evening I have dug like a book-worm, and disputed 
 like a magpie ; for there was nothing that could 
 not be proved : Where the head of St. John the 
 baptist was buried, and in what language the 
 serpent had spoken to Adam, — all was clearly 
 demonstrated ; while such ideas as that human 
 beings come into the world with bones and flesh 
 and blood were never taken into consideration at 
 all. Hoiho, confrater I then there came evil hours 
 for me, such as I hope may be spared you. My
 
 MOENGAL 109 
 
 head grew heavy and my hands restless. Neither 
 at the writing-desk nor in the church could I find 
 rest or peace ; ' Hence ! hence ! and away,' was 
 the inward cry of my heart. I once said to the old 
 Thieto that I had made a discovery. ' What dis- 
 covery ?' quoth he. That outside the cloister-walls 
 there was fresh air . . . Then they forbade me to 
 go out; but many a night did I steal up to the 
 belfry 111 and looked out and envied the bats, that 
 could fly over into the pine-woods . . . Coiifrater^ 
 against such a state there is no help in fasting and 
 prayer, for what is in human nature must come out. 
 
 " The late abbot at last took pity on me, and 
 sent me here for a year; but the brother Marcellus 
 never returned. When I cut down a pine-tree in 
 the sweat of my brow, and made myself a boat 
 out of it, and struck down the bird flying in the air, 
 then I began to understand what it meant to be 
 healthy. Hunting and fishing drive away morbid 
 fancies. In this way I have performed the priest's 
 duties at Radolfszell for thirty years, rusticitate 
 quadain imbiitiis^ — somewhat after the manner of 
 a peasant, but what does it matter? ' I am like the 
 pelican in the wilderness, and, like the owl, I have 
 built my nest amidst ruins,' says the Psalmist ; but 
 I am fresh and strong, and old Moengal does not 
 intend to become a dead man yet awhile, and he 
 knows that he is at least secure against one 
 evil . . ." 
 
 " And what evil is that ? " inquired Ekkehard. 
 
 " That St. Peter will not one day give me a crack 
 on the forehead with the heavenly door-key, saying,
 
 I lO EKKEHARD 
 
 ' Off with you, who have meddled with vain and 
 idle philosophy ! ' " 
 
 Ekkehard did not try further to elicit MoengaPs 
 heart-confidences. " I suppose," said he, " that you 
 have pretty hard work with your ecclesiastical duties. 
 Hardened hearts, heathendom, and heresy. ..." 
 
 '"Tis not so bad as they make it out to be," 
 said the old man. *' To be sure, in the mouths of 
 bishops and chamberlains and in the reports of the 
 session and the synod, it seems terrifying enough 
 when they describe the heathenish delusions, and 
 threaten them with punishment. Here we have 
 simply the old faith, — tracing the Godhead in tree and 
 river and on breezy mountain-heights. Every one in 
 this world must have his apocalypse, and the people 
 of the Hegau find theirs in the open air . . . and 
 really one may have his thoughts when, early in 
 the morning, one stands in the water-reeds and sees 
 the glorious sun arise. . . . Nevertheless, they come 
 to me on the Lord's day and chant the mass ; and if 
 the authorities did not so frequently snatch the shil- 
 ling out of their bags as a fine, they would far more 
 readily open their hearts to the gospel. A bumper, 
 confrater. to the fresh air ! " 
 
 " Allow me," said Ekkehard, with dehcate tact. " I 
 will drink to the health of Marcellus. the teacher at 
 the cloister-school, and the author of the Irish trans- 
 lation of Priscian." 
 
 "Very well," laughed Moengal. "But with re- 
 gard to the Irish translation, I am afraid there is a 
 catch in it ! " "^ 
 
 Ekkehard felt a great longing to reach his Ho-
 
 MOENGAL I 1 1 
 
 hentwiel ; for any one who is close to the end of a 
 journey is loath to tarry long. " The mountain 
 stands fast enough," said Moengal ; " it will never 
 run away from you." 
 
 But Moengal's wine, and his discourse about fresh 
 air, had nothing very tempting for one who was 
 about to go to a duchess ! So he started to go. 
 
 " I will accompany you to the borders of my 
 district," said the priest, "for to-day you may still 
 walk by my side, in spite of my faded garments ; 
 but when you are onc^ settled on yonder mountain, 
 you will believe yourself transfigured, and you will 
 become a grand lord ; and on the day when at Frau 
 Hadwig's side you pass Radolfszell on horseback, 
 and old Moengal is standing on the threshold, then, 
 perhaps, you will hardly deign to wave your hand 
 to him, — that is the way of the world. When 
 the ' heuerling ' grows big, then it is called ' fel- 
 chen,' and devours the small ones of its own 
 race." 
 
 " It is not fair to say such things," said Ekkehard, 
 and he kissed his Irish brother. 
 
 Then they set out together, and Moengal took his 
 lime-twigs with him, therewith to ensnare birds on 
 his return. It was a long way through the pine- 
 wood, long and still. 
 
 Where the trees were less crowded together, 
 they could see the dark mass of the Hohentwiel 
 throwing its shadow over them. Moengal with 
 keen eyes looked searchingly along the forest path, 
 and muttered, " There 's something coming through 
 the clearing:."
 
 112 EKKEHARD 
 
 They had gone a few steps farther when Moengal 
 seized his companion's arm, and, pointing forward, 
 said, " These are neither wild ducks nor animals 
 of the forest ! " 
 
 A sound like the neighing of a horse was heard 
 in the distance. . . . Moengal sprang aside, glided 
 a long distance through the young sapling trees, 
 and, lying down on the ground, listened intently. 
 
 " Sportsman's folly," muttered Ekkehard to him- 
 self, and waited for him. Moengal came back : 
 " Brother," he asked, " is St. Callus having a feud 
 with any of the mighty ones in the land ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Have you offended some one .'* " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Strange," said the old man, '• for three armed 
 men are coming toward us." 
 
 " Most likely they are messengers sent by the 
 duchess to receive me," said Ekkehard, with a proud 
 smile. 
 
 " Hoiho ! " muttered Moengal, " you 've missed 
 it. That is not the livery of the duchess's vassals.' 
 The helmet has no distinguishing mark, and no 
 one on the Hohentwiel wears a gray mantle ! " 
 
 He stood still now. 
 
 " Forward ! " said Ekkehard. " He whose con- 
 science is clear is protected by the angels of the 
 Lord." 
 
 " Not always in the Hegau," replied the old 
 man. There was no more time for further dia- 
 logue, for the tramp of horses' hoofs and the clat- 
 tering of arms were heard, and three horsemen,
 
 MOENGAL 113 
 
 with closed visors and drawn swords, came galloping 
 up. . . . 
 
 " Follow me ! " cried the priest, " maturate fu- 
 gamf' He threw his lime-twigs on the ground, and 
 tried to drag Ekkehard to one side ; but when he 
 resisted, Moengal sprang into the bushes alone. 
 The thorns added new rents to the old ones in his 
 well-worn garments ; but, tearing himself free, he 
 escaped into the thicket with the agility of a squir- 
 rel. He knew the tricks ! 
 
 "It is he ! " cried the foremost of the riders ; 
 whereupon the others sprang down from their 
 horses. Ekkehard stood proudly waiting for them. 
 " What do you want ? " — no answer. He seized 
 the crucifix suspended from his girdle, and was just 
 beginning with, " In the name of the Crucified ". . . 
 when he found himself thrown on the ground. 
 Rough, strong hands held him as in a vice ; a 
 cord was twisted round his arms, which were then 
 tied behind his back ; a white handkerchief was 
 bound tightly over his eyes, so that he could see 
 nothing, and then the command, " Forward ! " was 
 given. 
 
 Surprise and consternation took the strength out 
 of his knees so that he tottered. Then they took 
 him up and carried him to the entrance of the 
 forest, where four men were waiting with a litter, 
 into which they threw their victim ; and then they 
 proceeded along the level ground, — Ekkehard noticed 
 by the tramp of the horses' feet that his captors 
 remained at his side. 
 
 Whilst Moengal was fleeing through the wood, 
 
 VOL. I. —8
 
 114 EKKEHARD 
 
 the blackbirds and linnets flew about so confidingly 
 from bough to bough, and the thrushes' clear notes 
 sounded so tempting that he forgot the danger, and 
 his heart upbraided him for having dropped the 
 lime-twigs. 
 
 But when the quail also now sang out its " Quak- 
 kara! quakkara! " ^^^ \<^ sounded like a challenge, 
 and he turned his steps back toward the spot 
 where he had left his companion. Everything was 
 quiet there, as if nothing had happened. In the 
 distance he could see the knights departing. Their 
 helmets glittered. 
 
 " Many that are first shall be last," said he, 
 shaking his head and bending down to pick up 
 his lime-twigs. " He expected to go to a princess's 
 castle, and a prison opens to receive him. Holy 
 Gallus, pray for us ! " 
 
 Moengal did not bother his brains any further 
 about the matter. Such deeds of violence were as 
 plentiful as primroses in spring-time. 
 
 Once a fish was swimming about in the Boden- 
 see a fathom deep, and could not understand what 
 brought the cormorant down on it ; the black diver 
 had it already in its beak, and was flying away with 
 it, and still the fish could not understand it. 
 
 So it was with Ekkehard, lying bound in the 
 litter, — the more he reflected about this sudden 
 change in his fate, the less could he comprehend it. 
 
 Now the idea rose menacingly within him that 
 some friend or blood relation of those messengers 
 of the exchequer might live in the Hegau, and be 
 taking vengance on the innocent disciple of St.
 
 MOENGAL 1 1 5 
 
 Gallus ; for Salomo, who had occasioned their 
 shameful execution, had once been abbot of St. 
 Gall. In that case, Ekkehard had to prepare him- 
 self for the worst; as he well knew that neither 
 tonsure nor monk's habit would be any protection 
 against having his eyes burnt out, or hands cut off, 
 if it was a question of revenge. 
 
 He thought of death. With his conscience he 
 was at peace, and death itself had no terror for him ; 
 but yet in his heart there arose the faint murmur, 
 " Why not a year later, after my foot had been set 
 on the Hohentwiel ? " 
 
 Now his bearers were moving more slowly, as if 
 they were walking uphill. Into which of the rob- 
 ber's nests of that land were they carrying him? 
 They had been climbing for about half an hour 
 when the tramp of the horses' hoofs made a hollow 
 sound, as if they were going over a wooden bridge. 
 Still everything was quiet; no watchman's call. 
 The decisive moment must be close at hand. Then 
 Ekkehard felt new confidence rising : the words of 
 the psalm came into his mind : — 
 
 God is our hope and sU'etigth^ a very present 
 help in trouble. 
 
 Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be 
 7noved, and though the hills be candied into the 7nidst 
 of the sea. 
 
 Though the waters thereof rage and swell, and 
 though the mo2cntains shake at the tempest of the 
 same. . . . The Lord of Hosts is with us, the God of 
 facob is our refuge. Selah. . . . 
 
 Another bridge was crossed, a gate opened, the
 
 Il6 EKKEHARD 
 
 litter was put down; then they took out their 
 prisoner. His foot touched the ground ; he felt 
 grass, and heard a whispering, as if there were 
 many people around him. The cords were loosened 
 from his arms. 
 
 " Take off the bandage from your eyes," said 
 one of his escorts. He obeyed, and — oh, heart, do 
 not exult ! — he was standing in the courtyard on 
 the Hohentwiel. 
 
 There was a gay rustling in the boughs of the 
 old linden-tree ; a tent-like linen cloth was fastened 
 to it; garlands of smallage and vine-leaves were 
 hanging from it. All the inhabitants of the fortress 
 were assembled, and on a stone bench in the midst 
 sat the duchess. From her shoulders the princely 
 mantle of dark purple descended in heavy folds ; 
 a sweet smile softened her haughty features, and 
 now the stately figure rose, and advanced toward 
 Ekkehard : — 
 
 *' Welcome to Hadwig's domains I " 
 
 Ekkehard had as yet scarcely realized what had 
 happened to him. He was about to kneel before 
 her ; but she graciously raised him to his feet and 
 beckoned with her hand to the Chamberlain Spazzo, 
 who, throwing aside his gray mantle, came forward 
 and embraced Ekkehard like an old friend : — 
 
 " In the name of our gracious mistress, receive 
 the kiss of peace." 
 
 The thought that they were playing a trick upon 
 him flashed through Ekkehard's mind ; but the 
 duchess called out laughingly : — 
 
 " You are paid in your own coin. As you did not
 
 MOENGAL 117 
 
 allow the duchess of Suabia to cross the threshold 
 of St. Gallus except by being carried, it was but fair 
 that she should have the man from St. Gall also 
 carried into her castle." 
 
 And Herr Spazzo again shook hands with him, 
 and said : — 
 
 " I hope you are not angry ; we did as we were 
 commanded ! " 
 
 He had first headed the attack, and was now 
 helping to welcome Ekkehard, doing both with the 
 same unalterably pompous air; for a chamberlain 
 must be versatile, and even know how to reconcile 
 contradictions. 
 
 Ekkehard smiled. 
 
 " For a mere jest," said he, " you have acted your 
 part very seriously." He had especially in mind 
 how one of the riders, when they threw him into 
 the litter, had given him a good thrust between the 
 ribs with the brass-bound but-end of his lance. 
 This had certainly not been the duchess's order ; 
 but the lancer had been present, with Luitfried, the 
 nephew of one of the Kainmerboten^ at the time 
 when they overthrew the Bishop Salomo, and had 
 from that time kept the erroneous notion that a 
 good blow or kick was absolutely necessary when 
 any one belonging to the church was to be over- 
 thrown. "4 
 
 Frau Hadwig, now taking her guest by the hand, 
 led him through the castle court and showed him 
 her airy abode, and the splendid view of the Boden- 
 see and the distant Alpine peaks, and all the people 
 belonging to the castle asked for his blessing, —
 
 Il8 EKKEHARD 
 
 amongst them also the lancers and the litter-bearers ; 
 and he blessed them all. 
 
 The duchess accompanied him to the entrance 
 of his chamber. A bath had been prepared for 
 him, 115 and new clothes awaited him ; she told him 
 to rest himself from the fatigues of the journey, 
 and Ekkehard felt happy and light-hearted after 
 his strange adventure. . . . 
 
 The following night it came to pass in the mon- 
 astery of St. Gall that Romeias the watchman, 
 without any reason, started up from his couch and 
 fiercely blew his horn ; so that the dogs in the 
 courtyard barked loudly, and every one awoke and 
 came running out. Yet there was no one asking 
 admittance. The abbot concluded that it was the 
 doing of evil spirits, but at the same time ordered 
 Romeias's evening drink to be reduced to one half 
 for six days, — a regulation which was based, how- 
 ever, on a very erroneous supposition.
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHENTWIEL 1 19 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHENTWIEL. 
 
 After one has accomplished a removal to a new 
 residence, it is very pleasant and fascinating work, 
 to make one's self comfortable. 
 
 It i.s by no means a matter of indifference in 
 what place one lives and what one's surroundings 
 are. He whose windows look out on a highway, 
 where carts are constantly passing, and where they 
 are pounding stone, is certainly oftener visited by 
 gray, dusty thoughts, than by gay, many-colored 
 fancies. 
 
 With regard to situation, Ekkehard might well be 
 contented; for the ducal castle on the Twiel was 
 airy and high, and lonely enough ; but still he was 
 not quite satisfied when, on the day after his arrival, 
 Frau Hadwig showed him his domicile. 
 
 It was a great spacious chamber, with arched 
 windows supported on pillars, and was entered from 
 the same passage which led to the duchess's hall 
 and chambers. The impressions which a man 
 takes with him from his lonely cloister-cell are not 
 to be shaken off in a single night ; and Ekkehard 
 reflected how he might often be disturbed in his 
 meditations if the tread of armor-clad men and
 
 1 20 EKKEHARD 
 
 the jingling of spurs, or the softer footsteps of 
 serving-maids were to pass his door, or even if he 
 heard the mistress of the castle on her way up and 
 down. So without hesitation he addressed himself 
 to Frau Hadwig, saying, " I have a favor to ask of 
 you, my liege Lady." 
 
 " Speak," said she, mildly. 
 
 " Could you not give me, besides this room, a 
 more distant and solitary little chamber, — even 
 if it be under the roof, or in one of the watch- 
 towers.'* Study, as well as the exercise of prayer, 
 requires perfect quiet ; you know the custom of 
 the cloister ! " 
 
 Then a slight frown overshadowed Frau H ad- 
 wig's brow : it was not a cloud, — only a cloudlet. 
 
 " Do you wish to be often alone ? " she asked, 
 with a satirical smile. " Why did you not stay at 
 St. Gall?" 
 
 Ekkehard bowed his head and remained silent. 
 
 "Stay," cried Frau Hadwig; "your wish shall be 
 fulfilled. You may look at the room in which Vin- 
 centius, our chaplain, lived till his blessed end. His 
 taste was also that of a bird of prey, and he pre- 
 ferred being the highest on the Hohentwiel to being 
 the most comfortable. Praxedis, get the large bunch 
 of keys and accompany our guest." 
 
 Praxedis obeyed. The late chaplain's chamber 
 was high in the square tower of the castle. Slowly 
 she ascended the dark winding staircase, followed 
 by Ekkehard. The key grated harshly in the long- 
 unused lock. They entered, — but what a sight was 
 before them !
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHENTWIEL 121 
 
 When a learned man has lived in a place it takes 
 some time to destroy all traces of him. This was a 
 good-sized square room, with white-washed walls, 
 and but little furniture ; dust and cobwebs covered 
 everything. On the oak table in the middle stood 
 a small pot, once filled with ink ; but it had long 
 before dried up. In one corner stood a jug, in which 
 wine had perhaps once sparkled. On a rough book- 
 shelf were some books, and close by, some open 
 parchments ; but — oh, misery ! — a storm had 
 broken the little window, so that Vincentius's room, 
 since his death, had been open to sunshine and rain, 
 to insects and birds. A flock of pigeons, taking 
 undisputed possession, had snugly settled down, 
 among all the book-wisdom. They had built their 
 nests on the Epistles of St. Paul and Julius Caesar's 
 Gallic Wars, and they looked with surprise at the 
 intruders. 
 
 Opposite the door a verse was written with char- 
 coal on the wall: Martha, Mar'tha, thou art care- 
 ful and tJ'oiibled about many tilings. Ekkehard 
 rea^ it, and asked his lovely guide, " Was that the 
 late chaplain's last will .'' " 
 
 Praxedis laughed. 
 
 "The late Herr Vincentius was a sociable man," 
 said she. " ' Comfort is better than a talent of 
 silver, ' ii^ ^vas what he often said. But my lady 
 the duchess worried him a good deal, and pestered 
 him with her questions: one day she wanted to 
 know about the stars ; the next, about herbs and 
 medicine ; the day after, about the Holy Bible and 
 the traditions of the Church. ' What have you
 
 122 EKKEHARD 
 
 studied for, if you cannot tell me anything?' she 
 would say; and Herr Vincentius had a hard time 
 of it." 
 
 Praxedis pointed archly to her forehead. 
 
 " ' In the middle of Asia,' he often replied, 'there 
 is a black marble stone ; he who can lift it, knows 
 everything, and need not ask any more questions.' 
 Herr Vincentius was from Bavaria; he must have 
 written the quotation from Scripture to console 
 himself." 
 
 " Does the duchess ask so many questions ? " 
 said Ekkehard, absently. 
 
 " That you will soon find out for yourself," replied 
 Praxedis." 
 
 Ekkehard examined the books on tha shelves. 
 *' I am sorry for the pigeons; they will have 
 to go." 
 
 « Why ? " 
 
 "They have spoilt the whole of the first book 
 of the Gallic War; and the Epistle to the Corin- 
 thians is hopelessly spotted. . ." 
 
 " Is that a great loss? " asked Praxedis, ^ 
 
 " A very great loss ! " 
 
 " Oh, you poor naughty doves ! '' said Praxedis, 
 jestingly. " Come to me, before yonder pious man 
 drives you out among the hawks and falcons ! " 
 
 And she called the birds, which had unconcern- 
 edly remained in their niche ; and when they did 
 not come, she threw a ball of white worsted on the 
 table ; then the male dove flew over to it, be- 
 lieving that a new dove had come. With stately 
 steps he approached the white ball, greeting it with
 
 VERGIL I us ON THE HOHENTWIEL 1 23 
 
 a gentle cooing. But PraScedis snatched it up, and 
 the bird flew on her head. 
 
 Then she began to sing softly a Greek melody. 
 It was the song of the old yet ever young singer 
 of Teos * : — 
 
 O whence, thoit pretty cushat, 
 Whetice, whence dost thou come flying ; 
 And whence the balmy fragrance 
 Breathes from thy snowy pinions 
 And drips upon the meadow -* 
 Who art thou ? and what wilt thou ? 
 
 Ekkehard started up from the codex in which he 
 was reading, and threw an almost frightened look 
 on the young girl. If his eye had been more 
 accustomed to natural grace and beauty, it would 
 probably have rested somewhat longer on the Greek 
 maid. The dove had hopped upon her hand, and 
 she held it up with a bended arm. Anakreon's old 
 countryman, who created the Venus of Knidos out 
 of a block of Parian marble, would have fixed the 
 picture in his memory, if he had witnessed it. 
 
 "What are you singing?" asked Ekkehard. " It 
 sounds like a foreign language." 
 
 " Why should it not sound so ? " 
 
 "Greek?" 
 
 " And why should I not sing Greek," pertly re- 
 joined Praxedis. 
 
 " By the lyre of Homer," exclaimed Ekkehard, 
 full of surprise, " where in all the world did you 
 learn that ; the highest aim of our scholarship ? " 
 
 * TToQev <^i\r) Tre'Aeta
 
 124 EKKEHARD 
 
 " At home," quietly re^^ied Praxedis ; and she let 
 the dove fly back to his place. 
 
 Then Ekkehard looked at her again with shy 
 respect and admiration. While reading Aristotle 
 and Plato it had hardly occurred to him that any 
 living persons still spoke the Greek tongue. The 
 idea now dawned upon him that something was 
 here embodied before him which, in spite of all his 
 spiritual and worldly wisdom, was beyond his reach 
 and understanding. . . . 
 
 " I thought I had come as a teacher to the 
 Hohentwiel," said he, in a melancholy tone, " and I 
 find my master here. Would you not now and then 
 deign to bestow a grain of your mother-tongue on 
 me .'' " 
 
 " On condition that you will not drive the doves 
 away from the room," replied Praxedis. " You can 
 easily have a grating put up before the niche, so 
 that they will not fly about your head." 
 
 " For the sake of pure Greek," Ekkehard was 
 beginning to say, but the door of the narrow her- 
 mitage was flung open, and Frau Hadwig's sharp 
 voice was heard : — 
 
 "What is the talk here about doves and pure 
 Greek? Does it take so much time to look at 
 these four walls 1 Well, Herr Ekkehard, does the 
 den suit you ? " 
 
 He bowed in the affirmative. 
 
 "Then it shall be cleaned and put in order," 
 continued Frau Hadwig. " Come, Praxedis, bestir 
 yourself, and, to begin with, drive out these 
 doves ! "
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHEN TWIRL 1 25 
 
 Ekkehard ventured to put in a word on their 
 behalf. 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the duchess ; " 3'pu desire to be 
 alone, and yet to keep doves ! Shall we not also 
 hang a lute on the wall, and strew rose-leaves in 
 your wine? Well, we will not drive them out; but 
 this evening, roasted, they shall adorn our table." 
 
 Praxedis appeared as if she heard nothing of 
 all this. 
 
 " What was that about pure Greek ? " inquired 
 the duchess. 
 
 Ekkehard ingenuously told her the favor which 
 he had asked of Praxedis. Then the frown re- 
 turned to Frau Hadwig's forehead. 
 . " If you are so very anxious to learn," said she, 
 "you may ask me ; for I also speak that language." 
 Ekkehard made no objection. There was apt to 
 be in her speech a certain sharpness which cut short 
 all replies. 
 
 The duchess was strict and punctual in every- 
 thing. Almost immediately after Ekkehard's arri- 
 val she laid out a plan in accordance with which 
 she was to proceed in learning the Latin language, 
 and it was settled that they should devote one hour 
 each day to the grammar, and another to the read- 
 ing of Vergil. Ekkehard looked forward to the 
 readings with delighted anticipation. He intended 
 to put his whole mind to it, and to summon up all 
 his erudition and knowledge, in order to make the 
 task easy to the duchess. 
 
 "It is certainly no useless work which the old 
 poets accomplished," said he. " How tiresome it
 
 126 EKKEHARD 
 
 would be to learn a language, if it were bequeathed 
 to us in a dictionary, like corn in a sack, which we 
 should first have to grind into flour, and then to 
 make into bread. . . Now the poet puts everything 
 in its right place ; there is a finely elaborated plan 
 and meaning, and the rhythm reminds one of the 
 lovely melody of strings ; what otherwise would 
 prove hard and tough for our teeth, we can now 
 drink in like virgin honey, and it tastes sweet." 
 
 Ekkehard could find no means to mitigate the 
 bitterness of the grammar. Every day he wrote a 
 task for the duchess on a leaf of parchment; she was 
 eager to learn, and when the sun rose over the 
 Bodensee, and cast its early rays on the Hohentwiel, 
 she would be already standing at her window, learn- 
 ing whatever was assigned to her, — silently or aloud 
 as the case might be. Once her monotonous reciting 
 of a7no^ a?;ias, amat, ainamus^ etc., reached even 
 Ekkehard's ear in his chamber. 
 
 Praxedis, however, was heavily afflicted. Frau 
 Hadwig, to heighten her own zeal, commanded her 
 always to learn the same amount of grammar that 
 she had for a task, and it was a severe trial to her. 
 The duchess, only a beginner herself, delighted in 
 correcting her handmaiden, and was never more 
 pleased than when Praxedis took a noun for an 
 adjective, or conjugated an irregular verb as a 
 regular one. 
 
 In the evening the duchess came over to Ekke- 
 hard's room. There everything had to be ready for 
 the reading of Vergil. Praxedis accompanied her, 
 and as no Latin dictionary was to be found among
 
 VERGIL I us ON THE HOHENTWIEL 12/ 
 
 the books which Vincentius had left behind, she 
 was ordered to begin to make one; for in her young 
 days she had learned the art of writing. Frau H ad- 
 wig was less experienced in that. 
 
 " What would be the use of priests and monks," 
 said she, " if every one knew the art belonging to 
 their profession.^ Let blacksmiths forge, soldiers 
 fight, and the writers write, and then no confusion 
 will arise." 
 
 She had, however, given much practice to writing 
 her name, in capital letters, artistically entwined, 
 so that she could affix it to all documents to which 
 she put her seal as sovereign of the land. 
 
 Praxedis cut up a roll of parchment into small 
 leaves, and drew two lines on each, so as to make 
 three divisions. After each lesson she wrote down 
 the Latin words they had learned in one, the Ger- 
 man in the next, and the Greek equivalent in the 
 third column. This was done by the duchess's 
 desire, in order to prove to Ekkehard that without 
 his aid they had already acquired some laudable 
 knowledge. 
 
 Thus begun the lessons.^^'^ 
 
 Praxedis had left the door from Ekkehard's room 
 into the passage wide open. He rose and was 
 about to shut it; but the duchess prevented him, 
 saying, " Do you not yet know the world t " 
 
 Ekkehard could not understand what she meant. 
 
 He now began to read to them the first book of 
 Vergil's "epic. yEneas the Trojan rose before their 
 eyes ; how Fate had tossed him about for seven 
 years a wanderer on the Tyrian sea, and what un-
 
 128 EKKEHARD 
 
 speakable pains it had cost him to become the 
 founder of the Roman people. Then came Juno's 
 anger, and how she went to entreat Aeolus to do 
 her bidding, and promised the god of the winds the 
 fairest of her nymphs if he would destroy the 
 Trojan ships. — Thunder-storm, tempest, shipwreck, 
 the shattering of the vessels ; — the turbulent waves 
 scatter weapons and armor, beams and timbers, and 
 Trojan splendor over the boundless deep. And the 
 roar of the waves reaches Neptune himself down in 
 the watery depths ; he mounts up and beholds the 
 dire confusion. With insults and threats he drives 
 home the winds of Aeolus ; like a mob at the words 
 of a man of mark, the rebellious waters are calmed, 
 and the remaining ships anchor on the Lybian 
 shores . . . 
 
 So far Ekkehard had read and translated. His 
 voice was full and resonant, and vibrating with 
 an agreeable sense of inward understanding. It 
 was getting late ; the lamp was flickering, when 
 Frau Hadwig broke off the lesson. 
 
 " How does my gracious mistress like the tale 
 of the heathen poet ? " asked Ekkehard. 
 
 " I will tell you to-morrow," was the reply. 
 
 She certainly might have told him then and there, 
 for the impression of what she had heard was 
 already firmly fixed in her mind; but she refrained 
 from doing so, not liking to hurt his feelings. 
 
 " May you have pleasant dreams," she called out 
 as he was departing. 
 
 Ekkehard went up to Vincentius's tower room. 
 It had been put into perfect order ; all traces of the
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHENTWIEL 1 29 
 
 doves had been removed. He wished to collect his 
 thoughts for silent meditation, as had been his wont 
 at the monastery : but his head began to burn, and 
 before his soul stood the lofty figure of the duchess; 
 and when he looked straight at her, then Praxedis's 
 black eyes also gazed at him from over her mis- 
 tress's shoulders. — What was to be the outcome 
 of all this ? 
 
 He went to the window : the cool autumn air blew 
 in upon him.; the dark infinite sky stretched out 
 over the silent earth ; the stars were brightly twink- 
 ling, — near, far off, brilliant, pale. Never before had 
 the starry firmament seemed to him so vast; for, on 
 mountain-peaks, the proportions of things change. 
 Long he stood thus, until an uncanny feeling came 
 over him, as if the stars were attracting him upwards, 
 as if he must rise toward them as on wings . . . 
 
 He closed the window, crossed himself, and went 
 to bed. 
 
 On the next day Frau Hadwig came with Prax- 
 edis to take her grammar lesson. She had learned 
 many words and declensions, and knew her task 
 well; but she seemed absent-minded. 
 
 " Did you have any dreams t " she asked her 
 teacher, when the lesson was over. 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Nor yesterday?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " 'T is a pity ; for it is said that there is an omen in 
 what we dream the first night in a new abode. . . . 
 Now confess," she continued after a short pause, 
 " are you not a very dull man t " 
 VOL. I. — 9
 
 130 EKKEHARD 
 
 " I ?" asked Ekkebard, greatly surprised. 
 
 " You go round with poets ; why did you not 
 invent some graceful dream, and tell it me ? Poetry 
 is so like a dream, — it would have given me 
 pleasure." 
 
 " If such is your command," said Ekkehard, " I 
 will do so the next time you ask me ; even if I have 
 dreamt nothing." 
 
 Such things were entirely new and strange to 
 Ekkehard. 
 
 " You have not yet told me your opinion of 
 Vergil," said he. 
 
 " Very well," returned Frau Hadwig. " Listen ! If 
 I had been a queen in the Roman land, I do not 
 know whether I should not have burnt the poem, 
 and imposed eternal silence on the man . . ." 
 
 Ekkehard stared at her in perfect amazement. 
 
 " I mean what I say," continued she ; " do you 
 know why ? — because he speaks ill of the gods of 
 his country. I paid close attention yesterday while 
 you were reciting the speeches of Juno. The spouse 
 of the chief of all the gods, and yet she feels a 
 rankling in her mind because a Trojan shepherd 
 lad does not declare her to be the most beautiful! 
 And she is powerless to call up a tempest at her 
 own will to destroy a few miserable ships, and must 
 first bribe Aeolus by the offer of a nymph ! . . . And 
 Neptune calls himself the king of the seas, and 
 yet allows strange winds to cause a tempest in his 
 realm, and only notices it when it is well-nigh 
 over! — What kind of beings are those? — As a 
 duchess I tell you I should not like to wield the
 
 VERGIL I us ON THE HOHENTWIEL 131 
 
 sceptre in a country whose gods are thus abased 
 and defamed !" 
 
 Ekkehard was embarrassed to find an answer. 
 Whatever antiquity had handed down in the form 
 of manuscripts was to him as stable and immovable 
 as the mountains ; he was content to become ac- 
 quainted with their sense and significance, — and now 
 such doubts ! 
 
 " Pardon me, gracious lady," he said, " we have 
 not read very far as yet ; it is to be hoped that the 
 human beings of the ^^neid will find greater favor 
 in your eyes. Please to remember that at the time 
 when the Emperor Augustus was making a census 
 of his subjects, the Light of the world began to dawn 
 at Bethlehem. The legend says that a ray of that 
 Light also fell on Vergil, and so the old gods could 
 no longer appear to him so great." . . . 
 
 Frau Hadwig had spoken according to her first 
 impression; she did not want to argue with her 
 teacher. 
 
 " Praxedis," said she in a jesting tone, " what is 
 thy opinion .? " 
 
 " My powers of thought are not so great," said 
 the Greek girl. " Everything seemed to me so 
 very natural ; and that made me like it. And what 
 pleased me most was that Frau Juno gave Aeolus 
 to one of her nymphs for a husband ; even though 
 he was somewhat elderly, still he was the king of 
 the winds, and she must certainly have been well 
 provided for." ... 
 
 " Certainly," said Frau Hadwig, and made a sign 
 to her to be silent. " Now we know how waiting- 
 women read Ver£:il."
 
 132 EKKEHARD 
 
 Ekkehard was provoked into greater zeal by the 
 duchess's contradiction. With enthusiasm he read 
 on the following evening how the pious ^neas goes 
 out to investigate the Lybian land, and how he is 
 met by his mother Venus, dressed in the habit and 
 armor of a Spartan maiden, the light bow hang- 
 ing over her shoulder, and her fair heaving bosom 
 scarcely hidden by the looped-up garment ; and how 
 she directs her son's steps toward the Lybian prin- 
 cess. And further he read how .^neas recognizes 
 his divine mother, but too late, — he calls after her 
 in vain; but she wraps him up in a mist, so that, 
 unseen, he may reach the new town w^iere the 
 Tyrian queen is building the splendid temple in 
 honor of Juno. There he stands and gazes at the 
 pictures of the battles before Troy, painted by the 
 hand of the artist; and his soul gloats over the 
 empty representation of past warfare. 
 
 Now Dido, the mistress of the land, herself ap- 
 proaches, urging on the workmen and performing 
 her sovereign's duties : 
 
 Then at the shrine of the goddess, under the vattlt of the 
 temple^ 
 
 Hedged by armld men, to the lofty throne she ascended ; 
 
 Making laws for her people and dealing to all equal justice. 
 
 Lotting to each his share of the labor with judgment impar- 
 tial. 
 
 " Read that over again," said the duchess. Ekke- 
 hard repeated it. 
 
 "Is it written so in the book? "'asked she. "I 
 should have made no objection if you had put in
 
 VERGILIUS ON THE HOHENTWIEL 1 33 
 
 these lines yourself. I almost fancied I heard a 
 description of my own government. . . With your 
 poet's human beings I am well satisfied." 
 
 "It must have been much easier to describe them 
 than the gods," said Ekkehard. "There are so 
 many men in this world . . ." 
 
 She made him a sign to continue. Then he read 
 how the companions of ^neas came to implore the 
 queen's protection, and how they sung their lead- 
 er's praise, while he, hidden by the cloud, stood 
 close by. 
 
 And Dido opens her town to the helpless ones ; 
 and the wish arises in her, " Would that ^neas your 
 king, overwhelmed by the same tempest, might also 
 be. present ! " so that the hero feels a great longing 
 to break through the cloud . . . 
 
 But just as Ekkehard had begun with, 
 
 Scarce had he spoken these words when the veiling cloitd that 
 
 hung round them 
 Suddenly burst, . . . 
 
 heavy steps were heard coming along the cor- 
 ridor. Herr Spazzo the chamberlain entered ; he 
 was anxious to inspect his mistress's new studies. 
 Most likely he had been sitting over his wine ; for 
 his eyes were staring vacantly, and the salutation- 
 speech died on his lips. It was not his fault; quite 
 early in the morning he had felt his nose burn and 
 itch, and that is an unmistakable prognostication 
 of a tipsy evening. 
 
 "Stop where you are!" cried the duchess, "and 
 you, Ekkehard, continue ! "
 
 134 
 
 EKKEHARD 
 
 He read on earnestly, impressively : — 
 
 There stood j€.ncas himself, in the glory of light brightly 
 
 glowing, 
 Like a god in stature and face, for his parent divine had 
 Breathed on him beauty of flowing locks and the splendor of 
 
 manhood. 
 And, in his eyes, the glamour of radiant joy ever smiling: — 
 Grace stich as ivory may through art receive, or when silver 
 Or the Parian marble with yellow gold is encircled. 
 Suddenly then addressing the queen, while all gazed in wonder, 
 Thus he spake • " Behold before you him you were seeking 
 I am ^neas of Troy, escaped from the Lybian billov/sC 
 
 Herr Spazzo stood there in utter confusion. A 
 repressed smile hovered over Praxedis's lips. 
 
 " W^hen you next honor us with a visit," cried the 
 duchess, " please choose a more suitable passage 
 for your entrance; so that we are not tempted to 
 imagine you to be '^^neas of Troy escaped from 
 the Lybian billows ! ' " 
 
 Herr Spazzo withdrew. "/Eneas the Trojan! " he 
 muttered. " Has another Rhinelandish adventurer 
 forged a mythical pedigree for himself 1 Troy ! 
 veiling cloudburst! — /Eneas the Trojan; we will 
 break a lance together when «\'e two meet ! Death 
 and damnation ! "
 
 AUDIFAX 135 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AUDIFAX. 
 
 At that time there was also living on the Hohen- 
 twiel a boy, whose name was Audifax. He was the 
 son of serfs ; his father and mother were dead, so 
 that he had grown up wild, and the people did not 
 pay much heed to him. He belonged to the castle 
 like the house-leek that grew on the roof, or the ivy 
 which had fastened its tendrils to the walls. But 
 he was put in charge of the goats. He faithfully 
 drove them out and home again, and was shy and 
 silent. He had a pale face, and short-cut fair hair, 
 for only the free-born were allowed to wear long 
 waving locks. ^^^ 
 
 In the spring, when trees and bushes put forth 
 their new shoots, Audifax hked to sit in the open 
 air and make himself bagpipes out of the young 
 sprouts, and blow on them. It was a monotonous, 
 melancholy music, and Frau Hadwig had once, for 
 a whole forenoon, stood on her balcony listening to 
 it, perhaps because the plaintive melody suited her 
 mood ; and when Audifax drove home his goats 
 that evening she said to him, " Ask a favor for 
 thyself." 
 
 Then he begged for a little bell for one of his favor- 
 ite goats, called Blackfoot. Blackfoot got the little
 
 136 EKKEHARD 
 
 bell. From that time nothing particular had hap- 
 pened in Audifax's life. But he was growing no- 
 ticeably shyer, and the last spring he had even given 
 up blowing on his pipe. 
 
 It was now a sunny day late in the autumn; he 
 had been driving his goats down the rocky moun- 
 tain slope, and was sitting on a rock, looking out 
 into the distance. Behind the dark fir-trees gleamed 
 the Bodensee. All around, the trees were already 
 wearing their autumnal colors, the dry red leaves 
 rustled in the wind. But Audifax sat and wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 At that time a little girl whose name was Hadu- 
 moth tended the geese and ducks belonging to the 
 castle poultry -yard. She was the daughter of an 
 old maid-servant, and had never seen her father. 
 Hadumoth was a good little girl, with red cheeks 
 and blue eyes, and she wore her hair in two tresses 
 falling down her back. She kept her geese in 
 excellent order and training, and though they would 
 often stick out their long necks and quack like 
 foolish women, not one of them dared to disobey 
 its mistress ; and when she waved her stick, they 
 all went quietly and 'decently along, and refrained 
 from useless noise. They often fed in company 
 with Audifax's goats ; for Hadumoth rather liked the 
 short-haired goat-herd, and often sat beside him 
 and looked up with him at the blue sky ; and the 
 creatures noticed the friendly feelings between their 
 guardians, and consequently were friendly also. 
 
 Now Hadumoth was likewise driving her geese 
 down the hill, and when she heard the tinkling of 

 
 AUDI FAX 137 
 
 the goat-bell, she looked about for the driver. Then 
 she beheld him as he wept, and she went up to him, 
 sat down by his side, and said : — 
 
 " Audifax, why dost thou weep ? " 
 
 The boy made no answer. Then Hadumoth put 
 her arm round his shoulders, drew his little smooth 
 head toward her, and said sorrowfully : — 
 
 " Audifax, if thou weepest, I too must weep." 
 
 Then Audifax tried to dry his tears. " Thou 
 needest not weep," said he, "but Imust. There is 
 something within me that makes me weep." 
 
 " What is in thee that makes thee weep ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 Then he took one of the many stones which had 
 fallen down from the rocky side of the Hohentwiel 
 and threw it on the other stones. The stone was 
 thin, and produced a ringing sound. 
 
 " Didst thou hear it ? " 
 
 " I heard it," replied Hadumoth; " it sounded just 
 as usual." 
 
 " But didst thou also understand the sound ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Ah, but I understand it ; and therefore I must 
 weep," said Audifax. "It is now many weeks ago, 
 I was sitting over yonder on a rock in the valley. 
 There it first came to me, I can not tell thee how, 
 but it must have come from the depths below ; and 
 since then I feel as if my eyes and ears were quite 
 changed, and in my hands I sometimes see gh'ttering 
 sparks. Whenever I walk over the fields, I hear it 
 murmuring under my feet, as if some hidden spring 
 were there ; and when I stand by the rocks, I see
 
 138 EKKEHARD 
 
 through them, and there are many branching veins 
 running in them ; and down below I hear a ham- 
 mering and pounding, and that must be the dwarfs, 
 of which my grandfather has told me ; and some- 
 times I even see a red glowing light shining through 
 the earth. . . . Hadumoth, I must find some great 
 treasure, and because I cannot find it, therefore I 
 weep." 
 
 Hadumoth made the sign of the cross. "Thou 
 must have been bewitched," said she. "Perhaps 
 thou hast gone to sleep after sunset on the ground 
 in the open air ; and thus one of the goblins below 
 has got power over thee. . . . Wait, I know some- 
 thing better than tears." 
 
 She ran up the mountain side, and was quickly 
 back with a small cup full of water, and a bit of 
 soap which Praxedis had once given her, as well 
 as some straws. Then she made a good foam, 
 took one of the straws, and gave another to Audif ax, 
 and said : — 
 
 " There 1 let us make soap-bubbles, as we used to 
 do. Dost thou remember how we sat together and 
 tried to see which would blow the largest, and how 
 at last we did so well that they flew down the 
 valley big and beautifully colored, glittering like 
 the rainbow ? And how we almost cried when 
 they burst ? " . . . 
 
 Audif ax, without saying a word, took the straw ; 
 fresh as a dewdrop the soap-bubble hung at the 
 end of the straw; he held it up into the air; the 
 sun shone on it. 
 
 " Dost thou recollect, Audifax," continued the
 
 AUDIFAX 139 
 
 girl, " what thou saidst to me once when we had 
 used up all our soap-water, and it became night, 
 and the stars all came out in the sky ? — ' Those 
 also are soap-bubbles,' thou saidst, ' and the good 
 God is sitting on a high mountain blowing them, 
 and he can do it better than we can.' '' . . . 
 
 " No, I do not remember that," said Audifax. 
 
 He hung down his head, and again the tears 
 began to flow. " What must I do to find the 
 treasure ? " sobbed he. 
 
 " Be sensible," said Hadumoth. " What wouldst 
 thou do with the treasure, if thou couldst find it ? " 
 
 " I should buy my liberty," said he, deliberately, 
 " and thine also ; and all the duchy from the duchess, 
 the whole mountain and all that is on it ; and I should 
 have made for thee a golden crown, and for every 
 goat a golden bell, and for myself a flute made of 
 ebony and pure gold." . . . 
 
 " Of pure gold," laughed Hadumoth. " Dost 
 thou know what gold looks like ? " 
 
 Audifax pointed with his fingers to his lips. 
 
 " Canst thou keep a secret ? " 
 
 She nodded in the affirmative. 
 
 " Give me your hand on it." 
 
 She gave him her hand. 
 
 " Well, then, I will show you how gold looks," 
 said the boy ; and diving into his breast-pocket, he 
 pulled out apiece, — round, like a good-sized coin, but 
 hollow like a cup, — and on it were engraven mystic, 
 half-effaced characters. It glistened and shone 
 brightly in the sun, and was really gold. Hadumoth 
 balanced it on her forefinger.
 
 140 EKKEHARD 
 
 " That I found in the field, far over yonder, 
 after the thunder-storm," said Audifax. " Whenever 
 the many-colored rainbow descends to us in an arch, 
 there where the ends approach the ground come 
 two angels, who hold out a golden cup, so that it 
 may not stand on the rough and rain-drenched 
 ground; and when it vanishes again, they leave 
 their cups on the fields, as they cannot use them 
 twice, for fear of offending the rainbow. . . ." ^^^ 
 
 Hadumoth began to believe that her companion 
 was really destined to obtain some great treasure. 
 " Audifax," said she, giving him back his rainbow 
 cup, " all this will not help thee. He who wants to 
 find a treasure, must know the spell. Down in the 
 depth below, they keep a good watch over every- 
 thing, and don't give it up, unless they are forced 
 to do it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, the spell ! " said Audifax, with tearful 
 eyes. " If I only knew that ! " 
 
 " Hast thou seen the holy man yet ? " asked Hadu- 
 moth. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " For some daj's there has been in the castle a 
 holy man, who knows all spells. He has brought a 
 great book with him, out of which he reads to our 
 duchess ; in it is written everything : how one con- 
 quers all the spirits in air, and in the earth, and in 
 the water, and in the fire. The tall Friderun told 
 the men-servants that the duchess had made him 
 come that her power might be strengthened ; and 
 that she might remain young and beautiful, and live 
 forever, ..."
 
 AUDIFAX 141 
 
 " I will go to the holy man then," said Audifax. 
 
 •' They will beat you," said Hadumoth, warningly. 
 
 " They will not beat me," replied he. " I know 
 something which I will offer him, if he tells me the 
 spell. ..." 
 
 It had become evening. The two children arose 
 from their stony seat ; goats and geese were col 
 lected ; and then, in well organized ranks, like an 
 army, were driven up the hill, and into their respec- 
 tive sheds. 
 
 That same evening Ekkehard read to the duchess 
 the end of the first book of the ^neid, which Herr 
 Spazzo had interrupted : How Sidonian Dido, 
 greatly surprised by the hero's unexpected appear- 
 ance, invites him and his companions into her 
 hospitable halls ; — and Frau Had wig gave an ap- 
 proving nod at Dido's words : — 
 
 /, by a si^nilnr fate^ in many hard labors aboiinding, 
 Wearily tossed about, at last found a home in this country. 
 I am no stranger to grief ; I have learnt to help the afflicted. 
 
 Then yEneas sends Achates back to the ships, 
 to carry the good news to Ascanius ; for on him was 
 centred all of his father's affectionate care. But 
 Frau Venus conceives new cunning in her bosom ; 
 she wishes to enflame Dido's heart with love for 
 ^neas. So she removes Ascanius to the distant 
 Idalian groves and changes the god of love into 
 his form ; Cupid divests himself of his wings, and 
 imitating the carriage and gait of Ascanius, follows 
 the Trojans and appears before the queen in her 
 palace at Carthago.
 
 142 EKKEHARD 
 
 . . . She with her soul in her eyes, gazing at^ him, 
 Cannot gaze her fill: to her breast she closely enfolds him^ 
 Never dreaming, poor Queen, what a god is plotting against 
 
 her. 
 At his Acidalian parenfs behest he effaces 
 From her heart little by little her husband Sichcens, 
 Striving to kindle a new and living love in her bosom, 
 Waking long-forgotten feelings and slumbering passion. 
 
 " Stop," said Frau Hadwig. " That again is very 
 weakly conceived." 
 
 " Weakly conceived ? " asked Ekkehard. 
 
 " What need is there of the god Amor," she said. 
 " Could it not happen without using cunning and 
 deceit, and without his interference, that the memory 
 of her first husband could be effaced in a widow's 
 heart?" 
 
 " If the god himself makes the mischief," said 
 Ekkehard, " then Frau Dido's behavior is excused, 
 and, so to speak, justified ; — that must have been 
 the poet's intention." 
 
 Ekkehard probably thought this a clever remark, 
 but Frau Hadwig rose. " Oh," said she, pointedly, 
 " that alters the matter ! So she needed an excuse ! 
 — really that idea did not strike me ! Good night." 
 
 Proudly she stepped through the chamber; re- 
 proachfully rustled her long flowing garments. 
 
 " Strange ! " thought Ekkehard, " but to read the 
 dear Vergil with women has its difficulties." Further 
 his reflections did not go. . . . 
 
 The following day as he was crossing the court- 
 yard Audifax tlie goat-herd came to him, caught 
 up the hem of his garment, kissed it, and then looked 
 into his face with beseeching eyes. 
 
 i
 
 AUDI FAX 143 
 
 "What dosl^thou want?" asked Ekkehard. 
 
 " I should Hke to know the spell," replied Audifax, 
 timidly. 
 
 " What spell ? " 
 
 " To lift the treasure out of the deeps." 
 
 " That spell I also should like to know," said 
 Ekkehard, lau^hinj^. 
 
 " Oh, you have it, holy man," cried the boy. 
 " Have you not the great book, out of which you 
 read to our lady in the evening ? " 
 
 Ekkehard looked at him sharply. He became 
 suspicious, remembering the way in which he had 
 been brought to the Hohentwiel. " Has anybody 
 prompted thee thus to speak to me in this way "i " 
 . "Yes." 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 Then Audifax began to weep. "Hadumoth," said 
 he. 
 
 Ekkehard did not understand him. 
 
 "Who is Hadumoth?" 
 
 " The goose-girl," said the boy, sobbing. 
 
 " Thou talkest nonsense ; go away ! . . ." 
 
 But Audifax did not go. 
 
 " You need not give it me for nothing," said he. " I 
 will show you something pretty. There must be many 
 treasures in the mountain. I know one, but it is 
 not the right one ; I want to find the right one ! " 
 
 Ekkehard's attention was roused. 
 
 " Show me what thou knowest." Audifax pointed 
 down the mountain. Then Ekkehard went with 
 him out of the court-yard down the steps of the 
 castle road. At the back of the mountain, where the
 
 144 EKKEHARD 
 
 gaze sweeps up toward the fir-clad Hohenstoffeln and 
 Hohenhowen, Audifax left the road, and they struck 
 into the underbrush. A bare wall of weather-beaten 
 gray rocks rose before them high into the azure sky. 
 
 Audifax pushed aside a bush, and tearing away 
 the moss, showed him a yellow vein, as broad as a 
 finger, running through the gray volcanic stone 
 which makes the substance of the mountain. The 
 boy broke off a bit : like petrified drops the loosened 
 fragments stuck round, bright gold-colored, in the 
 chinks of the rock. In the reddish white mass were 
 scattered opaline crystals. 
 
 Ekkehard closely examined the detached piece. 
 He did not know what it was. It was no precious 
 stone ; learned men in later times gave it the name 
 of natrolite. 
 
 " Do you see now that I know something ? " said 
 Audifax. 
 
 " What shall I do with it .' " inquired Ekkehard. 
 
 " That you must know better than I. You can 
 have them polished and adorn your great books with 
 them. Will you now give me the spell ? " 
 
 Ekkehard could not help laughing at the boy. 
 " Thou oughtest to become a miner," said he, turnmg 
 to go. 
 
 But Audifax held him by his garment. 
 
 " Now you must teach me something out of your 
 book." 
 
 » What ? " 
 
 " The most powerful charm." 
 
 A gleam of fun came into Ekkehard's serious 
 eyes. " Come with me," said he, " thou shalt have 
 the most powerful charm."
 
 AUDIFAX 145 
 
 Exultingly Audifax went with him. Then Ekke- 
 hard, hiughing, told him the Une from Vergil : — 
 
 quid non mart alia pectora cogis, 
 auri sacra fames ? ^ 
 
 With stubborn patience Audifax repeated the strange 
 words until he had fixed them in his memory. 
 
 " Please to write it down, that I may wear it on 
 me," he entreated. 
 
 Ekkehard, wishing to complete the joke, wrote the 
 words for him on a thin strip of parchment ; the boy 
 hid it in his breast-pocket; his heart beat high; 
 again he kissed Ekkehard's garment ; then he darted 
 off with such leaps as the wildest of his goats could 
 not rival. 
 
 " This child holds Vergil in greater honor than the 
 duchess," said Ekkehard to himself. 
 
 At noon-tide Audifax was again sitting on his 
 boulder ; but now no tears glistened in his timid eyes. 
 For the first time for many days he had taken his 
 old bagpipe with him ; the wind carried its notes 
 into the valley. His little friend Hadumoth was 
 glad and came over. 
 
 " Shall we blow soap-bubbles again ? " asked she. 
 
 " I shall make no more soap-bubbles," said Audi- 
 fax, and resumed playing on his pipe ; but after a 
 while he stood up, looked about carefully, and drew 
 Hadumoth quite close 10 him: his eyes glittered 
 strangely. 
 
 " I have been to see the holy man," he whispered 
 
 i Terrible hunger for gold, to what are the spirits of mortals 
 Not by thy power compelled ? 
 VOL. I. — 10
 
 146 EKKEHARD 
 
 in her ear. " To-night we will get the treasure. 
 Thou must go with me." 
 
 Hadumoth readily promised. 
 
 Supper in the servants' hall was finished ; they all 
 at the same time rose from their benches and 
 arranged themselves in a long file. At the bottom 
 stood Audifax and Hadumoth ; the young shepherdess 
 used to say the prayer before these rough people. 
 This time her voice trembled. . . . 
 
 Before the table was cleared, two shadows glided 
 out by the castle gate, which was yet unlocked. It was 
 the two children ; Audifax led the way. " The night 
 will be cold," he had said to his companion, and 
 thrown a long-haired goat's skin over her. 
 
 On the southern side, where the mountain wall is 
 steepest, there was an old rampart. Here Audifax 
 stopped; they were sheltered against the autumn 
 wind. He stretched out his arm. " I think this must 
 be the place," said he. " We have a long time to 
 wait till midnight." 
 
 Hadumoth said nothing. The two children sat 
 down close together. The moon had risen, and sent 
 her trembling light through a half-transparent veil 
 of cloud. In the castle above them a few windows 
 were lighted ; they were again reading out of their 
 Vergil. • . . Everything around on the mountain was 
 quiet and motionless ; at rare intervals the hoarse 
 shriek of an owl was heard. After a long while Had- 
 umoth timidly asked : — 
 
 " How will it be, Audifax ? " 
 
 " I don't know," was the answer. '' Some one will 
 come and bring it ; or the earth will open, and we 
 must descend ; or . . ."
 
 AUDI FAX 147 
 
 " Hush, I am frightened.'' 
 
 There was another long interval, during which 
 Hadumoth had leaned her head on Audifax's bosom 
 and fallen asleep. But the boy rubbed the sleep out 
 of his eyes ; at last he awakened his companion. 
 
 " Hadumoth," said he, "the night is long ; tell me 
 a story." 
 
 " An ugly story has come into my mind," replied 
 she. " Once there was a man who went out before 
 sunrise to plough ; and he ploughed the gold-dwarf 
 out of the furrow. There it stood grinning at him, 
 and said, ' Take me with you. He who does not 
 seek us shall have us ; but if any one seeks us, we 
 strangle him. . . .' Audifax, I am frightened." 
 
 " Give me thy hand," said Audifax, " and have 
 courage." 
 
 The lights at the castle were all out. The hollow 
 notes of the watchman's horn from the tower an- 
 nounced midnight. Then Audifax knelt down, and 
 Hadumoth knelt beside him. He had taken off his 
 wooden shoe from his right foot, so that his bare 
 toes touched the dark earth. He held the parchment 
 strip in his hand, and with a clear firm voice he pro- 
 nounced the words, the meaning of which he did not 
 understand, 
 
 quid non mortalia pectora cogis^ 
 auri sacra fames? 
 
 He remembered them well. And there on their knees 
 the two remained, waiting for whatever was to come. 
 . . . But there came no dwarf and no giant, and the 
 ground did not open either. The stars over their 
 heads glittered cold and distant, chill blew the night
 
 148 EKKEHARD 
 
 air. . . . Yet no one has a right to laugh at a faith 
 so strong and deep as that of the two children, even 
 if it cannot remove mountains or discover treasures. 
 
 Suddenly a strange light gleamed on the vaulted 
 sky. A shooting star fell, marking its way by a 
 phosphorescent trail ; many others followed. 
 
 "It is coming from above," whispered Audifax, 
 and he convulsively pressed the little maiden to his 
 side. '''■ Aiiri san'a fames . . ." he called out once 
 more into the night. The flashing meteors crossed 
 one another; one became extihguished, another 
 became extinguished, again everything in the sky 
 was calm as before. 
 
 Long and anxiously Audifax looked around ; then 
 he rose sorrowfully. '"T is nothing," he said in 
 faltering tones; "they have fallen into the lake. 
 They grant us nothing. We shall remain poor 
 herdsmen." 
 
 "Hast thou said the words, which the holy man 
 gave thee, quite right ? " 
 
 " Exactly as he taught them to me." 
 
 " Then he did not tell thee the right spell. Prob- 
 ably he wants to find the treasure for himself. Per- 
 haps he has put a net in the place where the stars 
 fell down. ..." 
 
 "No, I don't believe that," said Audifax. "His 
 face is mild and good, and his lips are not deceitful." 
 
 Hadumoth was thoughtful. 
 
 " Perhaps he does not know the right words. '^ 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because he has not the right God. He has the 
 new God. The old gods were great and strong also."
 
 AUDIFAX 149 
 
 Audifax pressed his fingers on his companion's lips. 
 " Hold your tongue." 
 
 " I am no longer afraid," said Hadumoth. " I 
 know some one else who knows all about spells and 
 charms." 
 
 " Who ? " 
 
 Hadumoth pointed in the direction where a steep 
 dark mountain rose abruptly from the hemlock forest. 
 " The forest woman," replied she. 
 
 " The forest woman 1 " repeated Audifax, aghast. 
 " She who made the great thunder-storm, when hail- 
 stones as big as pigeon's eggs fell into the fields ; 
 and who ate up the Zentgraf von Hilzingen, so that 
 he never returned home ? " 
 
 "Just for that reason. We will ask her. We are 
 locked out of the castle now, and the night is cold." 
 
 The little goose-girl had become bold and ad- 
 venturous ; her sympathy with Audifax was great, 
 and she wanted so much to help him to the fulfilment 
 of his wishes. 
 
 " Come ! " said she, eagerly. " If thou art fright- 
 ened in the wood,. then blow on thy pipe; the birds 
 will answer thee, it will soon be dawn." 
 
 Audifax raised no further objection. So they 
 walked on northward through the thick underbrush ; it 
 was a dark pine forest. They both knew the path. 
 Not a human creature was stirring; there was only 
 an old fox lying in ambush ; he was as little satisfied 
 with the appearance of tlie two children as they had 
 been with the swiftly shooting stars. 
 
 Foxes also have to bear their disappointments in 
 life ; therefore it drew in its brush and slunk off.
 
 150 EKKEHARD 
 
 The two children had gone on for about an hour, 
 when they reached the Hohenkrahen. Hidden 
 among trees stood a small stone hut ; they stopped. 
 
 " The dog will bark," said Hadumoth. But no 
 dog stirred. They approached nearer ; the door was 
 wide open. 
 
 "The forest woman is gone," they said. But on 
 the xQ.xy top of the rocky Hohenkrahen a small 
 fire was faintly burning ; dark forms were gliding 
 about it. Then the children crept up the path lead- 
 ing to the rock. 
 
 The first gleam of the coming dawn was already 
 showing behind the mountains beyond the Bodensee. 
 Tfle path was very steep ; it was a projecting crag 
 where the fire was burning ; a mighty oak-tree spread 
 out its dark branches. Audifax and Hadumoth cow- 
 ered down behind a boulder and peeped round the 
 corner. Some big animal had been killed. A head, 
 apparently that of a horse, was nailed to the stem of 
 the oak ; spits were standing over the fire : great 
 bones lay scattered about ; there was blood in 
 a vessel. 
 
 Around a roughly hewn piece of rock sat a number 
 of men. On it stood a big kettle of beer,!-*^ out of 
 which they filled and refilled their stone mugs. 
 
 At the foot of the oak crouched a woman. She 
 was not so lovely as the Allemannic virgin Bissula 
 who so stirred the heart of the Roman statesman 
 Ausonius, in spite of his sixty years, that he went 
 about in his prefecture making idyls and sang in her 
 praise : " Her eyes are as blue as the sky, and like 
 gold is her wavy hair. A child of the barbarians.
 
 AUDI FAX 151 
 
 and yet she is superior to all the dolls of Latium ; 
 and he who wants to paint her must blend the rose 
 with the lily." 12^ The woman on the Hohenkrahen 
 was old and haggard. 
 
 The men were looking at her; from moment to 
 moment the dawn was growing brighter in the east. 
 The mists hanging over the Bodensee began to 
 stir; now the sun cast his first ray on the hills, 
 burnishing their tops with gold. Soon the fiery ball 
 itself rose on the horizon ; then the woman leaped to 
 her feet; the men stood up in silence. She swung a 
 bunch of mistletoe and fir-tree branches over her 
 head, and then dipping it into the vessel of blood 
 three times sprinkled it toward the sun ; three times 
 also over the men ; then she poured out the contents 
 of the vessel at the foot of the oak. 
 
 The men had seized their mugs; they rubbed them 
 in a monotonous way three times on the smooth sur- 
 face of the rock, so that a strange humming noise 
 was produced, lifted them together toward the sun, 
 and then drained them at one draught. With simul- 
 taneous movement they put them down again so that 
 it sounded like one single blow. After this every one 
 put on his mantle, then silently they went down hill. 122 
 
 It was the first night of November. 
 
 When all had become quiet again the children 
 stepped out of their hiding-place intending to speak 
 to the old woman. Audifax had taken out the slip 
 of parchment, — but the hag snatched up a brand 
 out of the fire and approached them with a threaten- 
 ing look. 
 
 Then the children fled down the hill.
 
 I 5 2 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD. 
 
 AuDiFAX and Hadumoth had returned to the castle on 
 the Hohentwiel. No one noticed that they had been 
 out all night. They did not speak of their adventures 
 even to each other ; Audifax brooded over them. 
 
 He grew negligent looking after his goats. One 
 of his flock got lost in the hilly ground near where 
 the Rhine flows out of the Bodensee. He went to 
 look for it : after spending a whole day, he returned 
 with the truant. 
 
 Hadumoth was delighted at his success, whereby 
 her comrade was saved a whipping. By and by the 
 winter came; the animals remained in their stalls. 
 One day the two children were sitting before the fire- 
 place in the servants' hall. They were alone. 
 
 " Dost thou still think of the treasure and the 
 spell ? " asked Hadumoth. 
 
 Then Audifax drew closer to her mysteriously. 
 " The holy man has the right God after all," said 
 he. 
 
 " Why so ? ' asked Hadumoth. He ran off to his 
 chamber. In the straw of his mattress he had hidden 
 all kinds of stones. He took out one of these and 
 brought it to her.
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 53 
 
 " Look at this," he said. It was a piece of smooth 
 gray slate, containing a fossil fish ; the delicate out- 
 lines of the head, fins, and skeleton were clearly im- 
 printed in the slate, 
 
 " I found this at the foot of the Schiener moun- 
 tain,i23 when I went to look for the goat. It must 
 come from the great flood which Father Vincentius 
 once preached about ; and the Lord of Heaven and 
 Earth sent this flood over the world, when he told 
 Noah to build the big ship. The woman of the 
 wood knows nothing about it." 
 
 Hadumoth became thoughtful. " Then it must be 
 her fault that the stars did not fall into our lap. 
 We will go and complain of her to the holy man." 
 
 So they went to Ekkehard and told him all that 
 they had beheld that night on the Hohenkrahen. 
 He listened indulgently to them. In the evening he 
 told the duchess about it. Frau Hadwig smiled. 
 
 " My faithful subjects have a peculiar taste," said 
 she. " Everywhere handsome churches have been 
 built for them and the Gospel is preached impres- 
 sively. Fine church music, great festivals, and pro- 
 cessions through the waving corn-fields and meadows 
 with cross and flags, — and yet it does not satisfy them . 
 So they must needs sit on their mountain-tops on cold 
 nights, and they have not the least idea what they are 
 doing, except that they drink beer. We know so 
 much. What do you think of the matter, pious 
 Ekkehard .? " 
 
 " It is superstition," replied he, "which the Evil 
 One is always sowing in apostate hearts. I have 
 read in our books about the doings of the heathen,
 
 154 EKKEHARD 
 
 how they perform their magical rites in dark woods, 
 by lonely cross-ways and wells, and even at the 
 graves of their dead." 
 
 " They are no longer heathen," said Frau Hadwig. 
 " They are all baptized and belong to some parish- 
 church. But some of the old traditions still live 
 among them ; and though these have lost their 
 meaning, they run through their thoughts and 
 actions, as the Rhine does in winter, flowing noise- 
 lessly on under the icy cover of the Bodensee. 
 What would you do with them ? " 
 
 " Exterminate them," exclaimed Ekkehard. " He 
 who forsakes his Christian faith and breaks the vows 
 of his baptism shall be eternally damned." 
 
 " Not so fast, my young zealot ! " said Frau 
 Hadwig. " You have no right to deprive my good 
 Hegau people of their heads, because on the first 
 night of November they prefer sitting on the cold 
 top of the Hohenkrahen to lying on their straw 
 mattresses. For all that they do their duties well 
 enough, and fought under Charlemagne against the 
 heathenish Saxons, as if every one of them had been 
 a chosen champion of the Church." 
 
 "With the Devil there can be no peace," cried 
 Ekkehard, hotly. " Are you going to be lukewarm 
 in your faith, noble mistress?" 
 
 "In reigning over a countrv," returned she in a 
 tone of gentle banter, " one learns a good deal that 
 is not written down in your books. Don't you know 
 that a weak man is often more easily defeated by his 
 own weakness than by the sharpness of the sword? 
 When Saint Gallus one dav visited the ruins of
 
 THE WOiMAN OF THE WOOD 155 
 
 Bregenz, he found the altar of St. Aureha de- 
 stroyed, and in its place three brass idols erected ; and 
 the men sat drinking around the great beer-kettle ; 
 which is never omitted when our Suabians wish to 
 be pious in the old fashion. Saint Gall did not hurt 
 a single man of them ; but he broke up their idols, 
 threw the pieces into the green waves of the lake, 
 and made a large hole in their beer-kettle, and he 
 preached the Gospel to them on the very spot ; no fire 
 fell down from the heavens to destroy him, and so 
 they saw that their religion was no good, and 
 were converted.124 'po be sensible is not to be 
 lukewarm." . . . 
 
 " That was when . . ." began Ekkehard. 
 
 But Frau Hadwig interrupted him, saying: — 
 
 " And now the Church has been established from 
 the source of the Rhine to the North Sea ; stronger 
 than the castles of the Romans, a chain of monas- 
 teries, fortresses of the Christian faith, runs through 
 the land. The Gospel has penetrated even into the 
 recesses of the Black Forest ; so why would you wage 
 such a fierce war against the stragglers of the olden 
 times ? " 1-5 
 
 " Then reward them," said Ekkehard, bitterly. 
 
 " Reward them ? " quoth the duchess. " Between 
 ' Either ' and ' Or ' runs many a road. We must put 
 a stop to this nocturnal mischief. Why? No 
 realm can allow two different creeds to exist, for 
 that leads to internal warfare, which is folly, as long 
 as there are plenty of outward enemies. The laws 
 of the land have forbidden them these absurdities ; 
 they must find out that our ordinances and pro-
 
 156 EKKEHARD 
 
 hibitions are not to be tampered with in that 
 way." 
 
 Ekkehard did not seem to be satisfied with this 
 reasoning ; a shadow of displeasure still darkened 
 his countenance. 
 
 " Tell me," continued the duchess, " what is your 
 opinion of witchcraft in general ? " 
 
 " Witchcraft," said Ekkehard, seriously, taking a 
 deep breath, which seemed preliminary to a longer 
 speech than usual — " witchcraft is a damnable art 
 whereby men make use of the demons that inhabit 
 and control the elements. Even in lifeless things living 
 powers are concealed ; we neither hear nor see them, 
 but often careless and unguarded minds are tempted 
 to wish to know more and to attain greater power 
 than is granted to a faithful servant of God. That 
 is the old sorcery of the Serpent; and the powers 
 of darkness ; whoever holds communion with them, 
 may obtain part of their power, but he reigns over the 
 Devils by Beelzebub himself, and comes into his con- 
 trol, when his time is at an end. Therefore witch- 
 craft is as old as sin, and instead of there being the 
 one true faith in the world and the one wholesome 
 way of service, that is by worship of the triune God, 
 fortune-tellers and interpreters of dreams and ballad- 
 mongers and expounders of riddles still wander about ; 
 and the adherents of such arts are to be found above 
 all among the daughters of Eve." . . . 
 
 " You are getting polite ! " exclaimed Frau Hadwig, 
 interrupting him. 
 
 " For the minds of women," continued Ekkehard, 
 "have in all times been inquisitive and eager to
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD I^y 
 
 attain forbidden knowledge. As we proceed with 
 our reading of Vergil, you will see the quintessence 
 of witchcraft embodied in the woman Circe, who 
 spends her days in singing, on an inaccessible head- 
 land. Chips of sweet-smelling cedar-wood light 
 her dark chambers ; with industrious shuttle she 
 weaves beautiful tapestry ; but outside in the yard 
 is heard the melancholy roaring of lions and wolves 
 and the grunting of swine. All of them were once 
 men whom she has changed into brutes by her magic 
 philters. . . ." 
 
 " You talk like a book," said the duchess, pointedly. 
 " You must extend your study of witchcraft. You 
 shall ride over to the Hohenkrahen and investigate 
 whether the woman of the wood is a Circe also. You 
 shall act in our name ; we are curious to see what 
 your wisdom will decree." 
 
 " I know not how to reign over a people and to 
 settle the affairs of this world," replied he, evasively. 
 
 " That is to be seen," said Frau Hadwig. " Rarely 
 is any one embarrassed by it, least of all a son of the 
 Church." 
 
 Ekkehard yielded. The commission was a proof 
 of confidence. The next morning he rode over to 
 the Hohenkrahen on horseback, taking Audifax with 
 him to show him the way. 
 
 "A happy journey, Herr Chancellor!" called out 
 a laughing voice behind him. It was Praxedis. 
 
 They soon reached the old hag's dwelling. Half- 
 way up the steep mountain side on a crag stood her 
 stone hut. Mighty oaks and beech-trees spread their 
 boughs over it and hid the summit of the Hohen-
 
 158 EKKEHARD 
 
 krahen. Three tiers of stratified phonolite like steps 
 led into the inside, which was a high dark chamber. 
 On the floor lay heaps of dried herbs giving out 
 a strong fragrance. Three horses' skulls bleached 
 white grinned down fantastically from the walls ; ^^e 
 near them hung the huge antlers of a stag. In the 
 wooden door-post was cut a complicated double 
 triangle. A tame wood-pecker was hopping about 
 in the room, and a raven with cropped wings was its 
 companion. 
 
 The inhabitant of this abode was seated beside 
 the flickering fire on the hearth, sewing some gar- 
 ment. By her side stood a high, roughly hewn, 
 weather-beaten stone. From time to time she bent 
 down to the hearth and held her lean hand over the 
 coals. The cold of November was beginning to be 
 felt on the mountains and in the forest. The boughs 
 of an old beech-tree bent down almost into the win- 
 dow. A faint breeze stirred them; the foliage was 
 yellow and sere and shivered and fell off ; some of 
 the withered leaves were chasing one another around 
 in the chamber. 
 
 And the woman of the wood was old and lonely, 
 and half frozen. 
 
 *' There you are lying now, despised and faded and 
 dead," she said to the leaves — " and I am like you." 
 
 A peculiar expression came into her wrinkled 
 face. She was thinking of former times, when she 
 also had been young and blooming as the Spring, 
 and had had a sweetheart of her own. But his fate 
 had driven him far away from his native fir-woods. 
 Plundering Normans, coming up the Rhine, robbing
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 59 
 
 and burning wherever they came, had carried him 
 off as a prisoner, with many others of the arriere- 
 ba7t ; and he had stayed with them more than a year, 
 and had become a seaman, and in the sea air he had 
 grown rougli and hard also ; and when they gave 
 him his Hberty again, he brought back with him to 
 his Suabian woods the longing for the North Sea. 
 The home faces were no longer pleasant to his eyes, 
 those of the monks and priests least of all ; and as 
 misfortune would have it, in an outburst of anger 
 he slew an itinerant monk who had upbraided him; 
 then it was all over with his staying at home. 
 
 The old woman's thoughts were constantly recur- 
 ring that day to the hour when he had parted from 
 her forever. The bailiffs led him to his cottage in 
 the Weiterdingen forest, and fined him six hundred 
 shillings, as a Wehrgeld or price of blood for the 
 man he had slain ; and in heu of the money he made 
 an assignment to them of his cottage and land, and 
 he swore, with twelve witnesses, that he owned noth- 
 ing else, either above the earth or under the earth. 
 
 After that he went into his house, took a handful 
 of soil, stood on the threshold, and with his left 
 hand threw the soil over his shoulder at his father's 
 brother, in token that his debt was thus to pass on 
 to this his only remaining blood relation. Then 
 when this was done, he seized his staff, and dressed 
 in his linen shirt, without shoes or girdle, he jumped 
 over the fence of his acre, for so the law of the 
 Chrene Chriida prescribed,^27 ^nd thus he was free 
 to go out into the wilderness, and became an outlaw 
 and a fugitive. So he went back to Denmark to his
 
 l60 EKKEHARD 
 
 Northmen, and never returned any more. Only an 
 uncertain rumor had it that he had gone over with 
 them to Iceland, where the brave vikings who refused 
 to bow before the new faith and new rulers had 
 founded for themselves an arctic home of refuge. 
 
 This had happened long, long before ; but it 
 seemed to the old woman as if she still saw her 
 Friduhelm darting away into the shades of the 
 forest. Then she had hung up a garland of ver- 
 vain at the little chapel of Weiterdingen, and shed 
 many tears over it, and no one else had effaced his 
 image from her heart. The cold, dreary November 
 weather reminded her of an old Norman song which 
 he had once taught her, and now she was humming 
 to herself : — 
 
 The evening comes and chill is the air. 
 Hoar frost wreathes the firs like a garland. 
 
 O Cross atid Book and monkish prayer — 
 We must all away to a far land! 
 
 Our home grows wan and gloomy and old ; 
 
 The sacred fountains are troubled ; 
 Thou God-frequented, thou beautiful wold — 
 
 The blows of the axe are redoubled ! 
 
 And silent and vanquished we hasten forth, 
 
 Our stars in misfortune leave us. 
 O Iceland, thou frozen isle of the North, 
 
 Arise from the dark and receive us ! 
 
 Arise and receive our race in its flight, 
 
 In the sharp-beaked galleys confiding, 
 The ancient gods and the aticient Right 
 
 And the ancient Norsemen come riding !
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD l6l 
 
 Where old Hecla glows atid hot ashes are hurled, 
 And the storm-waves the wild coast cumber, 
 
 On thee, O thoic desolate end of the world. 
 
 Through the long winter flights will we slumber. 
 
 Ekkebard meanwhile had dismounted, and tied his 
 horse to a fir-tree. He now stepped over tlie thresh- 
 old ; Audifax shyly followed him. 
 
 The woman of the wood threw the garment over 
 the stone, folded her hands on her lap, and looked 
 fixedly at the intruder in his monk's habit. She did 
 not rise. 
 
 " Praised be Jesus Christ," said Ekkehard by way 
 of greeting, and also to avert any possible spell. 
 Instinctively he drew in the thumb of his right hand 
 arid shut his fingers over it. He was afraid of the 
 evil eye^'^'' and its powers. Audifax had told him 
 how people said that with one look she could wither 
 up a whole meadow. 
 
 She did not return his greeting. 
 
 " What good work are you doing there ? " began 
 Ekkehard. 
 
 " Mending an old garment that is getting worn," 
 was the answer. 
 
 " Do you also gather herbs ? " 
 
 "So I do. Are you an herb-gatherer? Here are 
 many of them. Hawk-weed and snail-clover, goats'- 
 beard and mouse-ear, as well as dried wood-ruff, if 
 you want any." 
 
 " I am no herb-gatherer," said Ekkehard. " What 
 do you do with those herbs?" 
 
 " Do you need ask what herbs are good for ? " said 
 the old woman. "Anyone of you knows that well 
 
 VOL. I. — II
 
 1 62 EKKEHARD 
 
 enough. Sick people and sick cattle would fare ill, 
 and there would be no more protection against the 
 uglv powers of darkness, and it would be all over 
 with stilling of lover's longings if there were no 
 herbs to be had ! " 
 
 " And have you been baptized ? " continued Ekke- 
 hard, impatiently. 
 
 "Ay, they have baptized me, likely enough." . . . 
 
 " And if you have been baptized," he said, raising 
 his voice, " and have renounced the devil with all 
 his works and allurements, what is the meaning of 
 that?" 
 
 He pointed with his stick toward the horses' skulls 
 on the wall, and gave a violent push to one, causing 
 it to fall and break in pieces ; the white teeth rolled 
 about on the ground. 
 
 '• A horse's skull which you have shivered to 
 pieces," replied the old woman, indifferently. " It 
 was a young animal, as you may see by the teeth." 
 
 "And you like to eat horse-flesh?" inquired 
 Ekkehard. 
 
 " It is no impure animal, and we are not forbidden 
 to eat it." 
 
 " Woman ! " cried Ekkehard, and he came close 
 to her, " thou practisest witchcraft and sorcery ! " 
 
 Then the old woman arose. A frown contracted 
 her brow and her eyes glittered strangely. " You 
 wear a priest's garment," she said, " so you may say 
 this to me. An old woman has no protection against 
 you. Otherwise it were a gross insult which you 
 have flung in my face, and the laws of the land pun- 
 ish those that use such words." . . .1=^
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 63 
 
 During this conversation Audifax had remained 
 timidly standing at the door; but when the raven 
 came hopping toward him he was afraid and ran up 
 to Ekkehard. Then he saw the stone by the hearth ; 
 the fear even of twenty ravens would not have pre- 
 vented him from examining a curious stone. He 
 lifted up the garment which was spread over it; 
 strange, weather-beaten figures came into sight. 
 
 Ekkehard also looked at it. 
 
 It was a Roman altar. It might have been erected 
 on those heights by cohorts who, at the command of 
 their emperor, had left their luxurious Asiatic camp 
 for the inhospitable shores of the Bodensee. A 
 youth in a flowing mantle and wearing a Phrygian 
 cap was kneeling on a prostrate bull, — the Persian 
 Sun-God Mithras in whom the failing faith of the 
 Romans found new hope and strength. 
 
 No inscription was visible. Long stood Ekkehard 
 examining it; for with the exception of a gold coin 
 of Vespasian, which some dependants of the monas- 
 tery had once found in the moor at Rapperswyl, and 
 some carved stones among the church treasures, his 
 eye had never before beheld any ancient sculpture ; 
 but from the shape and look of the thing he suspected 
 that it was some silent witness of a bygone world. 
 
 " Whence comes the stone ? " asked he. 
 
 " I have been questioned enough," said the old 
 woman, defiantly; "find an answer for yourself." 
 
 The stone might have answered many questions if 
 stones had tongues. A goodly bit of history clings 
 to such weather-beaten monuments. What do they 
 teach ? That the races of men come and go like the
 
 1 64 EKKEHARD 
 
 leaves which spring produces and autumn destroys, 
 and that all their thoughts and actions last but a 
 short. span of time. Then come others who talk in 
 other tongues and create other forms. What was 
 holy is despised ; what was despised becomes holy. 
 New gods mount the throne, — fortunate if their 
 altars are not erected on the bodies of too many 
 victims. . . . 
 
 Ekkehard saw another meaning in presence of the 
 stone in the Forest woman's hut. 
 
 "You worship that man on the bull!" he cried 
 vehemently. 
 
 The old woman seized a staff that stood by the 
 fireplace, took a knife and cut two notches in it. 
 
 " "Tis the second insult you have offered me," she 
 said hoarsely. " What have we to do with the stone 
 image ? " 
 
 " Then speak ! How comes the stone in your 
 hut?" 
 
 " Because we were sorry for it," replied the Forest 
 woman. " You who wear your hair close-shaven can- 
 not understand that. The stone stood outside on 
 the crag ; it was a consecrated spot, and many have 
 knelt there in olden times. But in these days nobody 
 heeded it. The people of the forest dried their crab- 
 apples or split their kindlings on it, just as It suited 
 them; and the cruel rain has been washing away the 
 figures. ' I am sorry for the stone,' said my mother. 
 ' It was once something holy ; but the bones of those 
 who knew and worshipped the stone and the man on 
 it have long been bleached white, — and the man in 
 the flowing mantle looks as if he were freezing with
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 65 
 
 the cold.' So we took it up and placed it beside the 
 hearth ; it has never brought us any harm as yet. 
 We know how those old Gods feel; for ours also no 
 longer avail. Let the old stone enjoy its rest." 
 
 " Your Gods ? " continued Ekkehard in his cate- 
 chism. " Who are your Gods .? " 
 
 " That you must know," said the old woman. 
 " You have driven them away and banished them 
 into the lake. In the depths below, everything lies 
 buried, — the treasures of old and the ancient Gods ! 
 We see them no more, and we only know the places 
 where our fathers worshipped them before the 
 Franks came and the men in cowls. But when the 
 wind shakes the tops of yonder oak-tree, comes 
 something like voices through the air; it is their 
 wailing. And on consecrated nights there is a 
 moaning and roaring in the forest, and a shining of 
 lights; serpents wind round the tree-boles; then over 
 the mountains there flies something like a train of 
 despairing spirits that have come to look at their 
 ancient home. . . ." 
 
 Ekkehard crossed himself. 
 
 " I tell it as I know it," continued the old woman. 
 " I do not wish to offend the Saviour, but he has 
 come as a stranger into the land. You serve him in 
 a foreign tongue which we cannot understand. If 
 he had grown up on our own ground and soil, 
 then we might talk to him, and would be his most 
 faithful servants, and life would be easier here in 
 Alemannia." 
 
 " Woman ! " cried Ekkehard, wrathfully, " we will 
 have you burned. . . ."
 
 1 66 EKKEHARD 
 
 " If it is written in your books," was the answer, 
 " that trees grow for the purpose of burning old 
 women, I have lived long enough. The lightning 
 lately came in to visit the woman of the Forest," 
 she continued, and pointed to a dark streak on the 
 wall, — " the lightning spared the woman of the 
 Forest." 
 
 She cowered down before the hearth, and re- 
 mained sitting there silent and motionless. The 
 glowing coals threw a strong but fitful light on her 
 wrinkled face. 
 
 " 'T is well," said Ekkehard. He left the chamber. 
 Audifax was glad when he could see the blue sky 
 again over his head. " There they sat together," 
 said he, pointing up toward the mountain. 
 
 " I will go and look at it. Go thou back to the 
 Hohentwiel, and send over two men with axes and 
 hatchets; and tell Otfried, the deacon of Singen, 
 to come and bring his stole and mass-book with 
 him." 
 
 Audifax bounded away. Ekkehard went up to 
 the top of the Hohenkrahen. 
 
 In the castle on the Hohentwiel, meanwhile, the 
 duchess had been sitting at her midday meal. She 
 had often looked about as if something were missing. 
 The meal was soon over. When Frau Hadwig was 
 alone with Praxedis she began : — 
 
 " How dost thou like our new teacher, Praxedis ? " 
 
 The Greek maid smiled. 
 
 " Speak ! " said the duchess, in a commanding 
 tone.
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 6/ 
 
 " I have seen many a schoolmaster before this at 
 Constantinopolis," said Praxedis, evasively. 
 
 Frau Hadwig threatened her with her finger: "I 
 shall banish thee from my sight if thou speakest 
 so disrespectfully. What hast thou to say against 
 schoolmasters ? " 
 
 " Pardon me," said Praxedis ; " I meant no offence. 
 But when I see such a bookman, — how solemn he is, 
 and what pains he takes to dig out of his manu- 
 scripts some meaning which we have already nearly 
 guessed, and how he is bound up in his parchments, 
 and how he has eyes for letters and scarcely glances 
 at the men around him, — then I always feel tempted 
 to- laugh. When I am in doubt whether pity is out 
 of place, I laugh. He does not require pity; he 
 knows so much more than I do." 
 
 "A teacher must be solemn," said the duchess. 
 " It belongs to him as the snow does to our Alps." 
 
 " Solemn ? Ah, well ! in this land, where the snow 
 covers the mountain-peaks, everything must be sol- 
 emn," resumed the Greek maid. " If I were only as 
 learned as Herr Ekkehard, so as to tell you what 
 I mean ! I mean, one might learn many things 
 with enjoyment also, sportively, without the sweat- 
 drops of hard labor on one's brow. Whatever is 
 beautiful ought to please and be true at the same 
 time. I mean, knowledge is like honey, which can 
 be got at in different ways. The butterfly hovers 
 over the flowers and finds it ; but such a learned 
 German seems to me like a bear who clumsily puts 
 his paws into a bee-hive and then licks them. I for 
 my part don't admire bears."
 
 1 68 EKKEHARD 
 
 " Thou art a frivolous-minded maiden," said Frau 
 Hadwig, "and not fond of learning. But how does 
 Ekkehard please thee otherwise, — I mean is he 
 handsome ? "' 
 
 Praxedis looked up at her mistress. " I have 
 never yet looked at a monk to see whether he were 
 handsome." 
 
 " Why not .^ " 
 
 " Because I have considered it unnecessar}-." 
 
 " Thou givest queer answers to-day," said Frau 
 Hadw^ig, getting up from her seat. She stepped to 
 the window and looked out northwards. Beyond the 
 dark fir-trees rose the heavy mass of the steep, rocky 
 Hohenkriihen. 
 
 " The goat-boy has just been here, and has told 
 some of the men to go over," said Praxedis. 
 
 '• The afternoon is mild and sunny,"' observed the 
 duchess. " Have the horses saddled, and we will 
 ride over and see what they are doing. Ah ! I for- 
 got that when we returned from St. Gallus thou 
 didst complain of the fatigue of riding. So I will 
 go there alone. . . ." 
 
 Ekkehard had insf)ected the scene of the nightly 
 revel on the Hohenkrahen. Few traces remained. 
 The earth around the oak-tree bore damp, red stains. 
 Coals and ashes showed where the fire had been. 
 
 With astonishment he beheld here and there, 
 hanging hidden in the branches of the oak, small 
 wax effigies of human limbs, — feet and hands, as 
 well as images of horses and cows, — offerings for 
 the recovery of sick men and beasts, which the super-
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 69 
 
 stitious peasantry at that time preferred to hang up 
 on the consecrated tree rather than to place them in 
 the church in the valley. 
 
 Two men with cutting implements now came up. 
 
 " We have been ordered to come here," they said. 
 
 " From the Hohentwiel ? " asked Ekkehard. 
 
 " We work for the duchess ; but we live yonder 
 on the Hohenhowen, where you can see the smoke 
 rise from the charcoal-pile." 
 
 "Good!" said Ekkehard. "You are to cut down 
 this oak for me." 
 
 The men looked at him in embarrassment. 
 
 " Begin at once and make haste ; the tree must be 
 felled before nightfall." 
 
 Then the two men walked up to the oak. With 
 gaping mouths they stood before the magnificent 
 tree. One of them let his axe fall. 
 
 "Don't you know the spot, Chomuli?" quoth he 
 to his companion. 
 
 " How should I know it, Woveli ? " 
 
 The woodcutter pointed toward the east, and lift- 
 ing his right hand to his mouth, imitated the act of 
 drinking. 
 
 "On this account, Chomuli." 
 
 Then the other looked down where Ekkehard was 
 standing, and winked one eye. 
 
 " We know nothing, Woveli." 
 
 " But he will know, Chomuli," said the first 
 speaker. 
 
 " That remains to be seen," was the reply. 
 
 "It is a sin and a shame," continued his com- 
 panion. " This oak has been growing here for two
 
 170 EKKEHARD 
 
 hundred years, and has witnessed many a bright fire 
 each May and Autumn. I can't bring myself to do 
 it, Chomuli." 
 
 " Don't be a fool," said the other, consolingly, and 
 he made the first stroke. " We 've got to do it. The 
 more readily we hew away at the tree, the less he 
 yonder in the cowl will believe that we have sat 
 under its branches in nightly worship. And the shil- 
 ling fine ! . . . A man must be cautious, Woveli ! " 
 
 That remark carried enlightenment. " Yes, a man 
 must be cautious," he repeated ; and he buried his 
 axe in the tree which he had worshipped. Ten days 
 before, he himself had hung up a wax effigy in order 
 to cure his brown cow of fever. 
 
 The chips flew about, and the axes of the two 
 woodcutters resounded in muffled monotonous 
 strokes. Keeping regular time, their blows quickly 
 followed one another. 
 
 The deacon of Singen had also arrived with mass- 
 book and stole. Ekkehard beckoned to him to go 
 with him into the hut of the Forest woman. She 
 was still sitting motionless beside her hearth. A 
 sharp gust of wind sprang lyD just as they were en- 
 tering the opened door and extinguished her fire. 
 
 " Forest woman," called out Ekkehard, imperi- 
 ously, "put your house in order and pack up your 
 things ; you must go ! " 
 
 The old woman seized her staff and cut a third 
 notch. " Who is it that insults me for the third 
 time," growled she, " and who wishes to cast me 
 out of my mother's house like a stray dog?'* 
 
 "In the name of the duchess of Suabia," con-
 
 THE WOMAN- OF THE WOOD 171 
 
 tinued Ekkehard, solemnly, " and on account of your 
 practising heathenish superstitions and nightly idola- 
 tries, I banish you herewith from house and home, 
 and the province and the land. Your chair shall be 
 placed before the door of your hut, and you shall 
 wander restlessly about, as far as the sky is blue, 
 and Christians visit the church ; as far as the falcon 
 flies on a day of Spring when the wind under both 
 his wings carries him along. No hospitable door 
 shall be opened to you, no fire be lighted to give 
 you warmth ; and may the wells deny you water, until 
 you have repented of your wickedness, and made 
 your peace with the triune God, the judge of the 
 living and dead." 
 
 The woman of the wood had listened to him with- 
 out showing great emotion. 
 
 "An anointed man will thrice insult thee under 
 thine own roof," muttered she, " and in witness of 
 this thou shalt cut a notch in thy staff, and with the 
 same staff thou shalt go out toward the setting sun, 
 for they will not leave thee a place whereon to rest 
 thy head. O mother ! my mother ! " 
 
 She then collected her scanty belongings into a 
 bundle, took her staff, and prepared herself to go. 
 The deacon of Singen was touched. "Ask God's 
 pardon through his servants, and perform some 
 Christian penance," he said, "so that you may find 
 forgiveness." 
 
 " For that the woman of the Forest is too old," ^^^ 
 she replied. Then she called her woodpecker, which 
 fluttered over to her shoulder ; the frightened raven 
 went hopping behind her; the door was already
 
 172 EKKEHARD 
 
 open ; one last look on the walls and fireplace, the 
 herbs and horses' skulls ; then she struck her staff 
 violently on the threshold, so that the stone flags 
 resounded. 
 
 " Be cursed, ye dogs ! " the two priests heard her 
 cry; then with her birds she plunged into the woods 
 and disappeared. 
 
 And silent and vanquished we hasteti forth, 
 
 Our stars in misfortitne leave tis, 
 O Iceland, thoic frozen isle of the North, 
 
 Arise froni the dark and receive us ! 
 
 sounded a melancholy song from among the leafless 
 trees. 
 
 But Ekkehard put on the stole ; and the deacon 
 of Singen carrying the mass-book before him, they 
 proceeded through chamber and closet. He sancti- 
 fied the walls by the sign of the cross, so as to 
 banish the evil spirits forever : then with prayers, 
 he pronounced the mighty exorcism over the place. 
 
 The pious work had lasted long; and the cold 
 sweat-drops stood on the deacon's brow when he 
 took off Ekkehard's , stole; he had never before 
 heard such impressive words. Now the tramping 
 of horses' feet was heard. 
 
 It was the duchess, accompanied by one servant 
 only. Ekkehard went to meet her; the deacon of 
 Singen started on his homeward way. 
 
 " You were gone so long that I myself had to 
 come hither to see how you had settled everything," 
 graciously called out the duchess. 
 
 The two wood-cutters had in the mean while
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 73 
 
 finished their work, and were stealing off by the 
 back of the hill. They stood in awe of the duchess. 
 
 Ekkehard told her about the life and doings of 
 the Forest woman, and how he had driven her 
 away. 
 
 "You are severe," said Frau Had wig. 
 
 " I thought I was mild," replied Ekkehard. 
 
 " We sanction what you have done," said the 
 duchess. " What do you intend to do with the 
 deserted hut ? " She cast a hasty look at the stone 
 walls. 
 
 " The power of the evil spirits has been banished 
 and exorcised," said Ekkehard. " I mean to con- 
 secrate it as a chapel to St. Hadwig." 
 
 The duchess looked at him with a well-pleased 
 expression. 
 
 " How did you think of that ? " 
 
 " It just occurred to me, . . . the oak I have had 
 cut down." 
 
 " We will examine that spot," said she. " I think 
 that we shall sanction also the felling of the oak." 
 
 Accompanied by Ekkehard she climbed the steep 
 path, leading up to the top of the Hohenkrahen. 
 
 There lay the oak on the ground ; its mighty 
 branches fairly blocked the place. A stony plateau, 
 but a few paces in circumference, crowned the 
 strangely shaped mountain. They were standing 
 on the top. Beneath their feet the steep wall sank 
 away precipitously. It was a giddy height; there 
 was neither stone nor tree for support, the two 
 figures stood out against the blue sky, the monk in 
 his dark garment and the duchess wrapped up in
 
 174 EKKEHARD 
 
 her bright-colored mantle. Silently they stood to- 
 gether. A splendid view opened before them. In 
 the depths below stretched the plain, through the 
 green meadows of which in serpentine course wound 
 the little river Aach. The roofs and gables of the 
 houses far down in the valley looked like tiny dots 
 on a map. Over opposite darkly rose the well-known 
 peak of the Hohentwiel in proud pre-eminence ; blue 
 flat mountain-ridges extended like walls behind the 
 mighty one, forming a barrier that hides the Rhine 
 in its escape from the Bodensee. 
 
 The Untersee, with the island of Reichenau, lay 
 glittering in the foreground ; and in the far dis- 
 tance stood out in faint outline gigantic mountains, 
 through transparent clouds. They became clearer 
 and clearer ; a golden glow surrounded them like a 
 halo of glory. The sun was declining toward the 
 west . . . with soft vapors and melting lights the 
 landscape swam. . . . 
 
 Frau Hadwig was moved ; nature's grander beauty 
 appealed to her noble heart. But the emotions lie 
 very close to one another ; an impulse of tenderness 
 came into her heart. From the snowy Alpine peaks 
 her eyes turned on Ekkehard. "He is going to 
 consecrate a chapel to St. Hadwig," something 
 whispered within her, over and over again. 
 
 She advanced a step, as if she were afraid of be- 
 coming giddy, put her right arm on Ekkehard's 
 shoulder and leaned heavily on him. Close her 
 eyes flamed into his. 
 
 "What is my friend thinking about? " said she in 
 soft accents.
 
 THE WOMAN OF THE WOOD 1 75 
 
 Ekkehard had been lost in thought. He started. 
 
 " I have never before stood on such a height," 
 said he, " and I was reminded of the passage in 
 Scripture : ' Again, the devil taketh him up into an 
 exceeding high mountain, and showeth him all the 
 kingdoms of the world and the glory of them ; and 
 saith unto him, All these things will I give thee, if 
 thou wilt fall down and worship me. Then saith 
 Jesus unto him. Get thee hence, Satan ! for it is 
 written. Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and 
 him only shalt thou serve.' " 
 
 With a strange look the duchess stepped back. 
 • The fire in her eyes changed, as if she might have 
 pushed the monk down into the abyss. 
 
 " Ekkehard ! " cried she, " you are either a child — 
 or a fool ! " 
 
 Then she turned, and with hasty steps showing 
 her vexation descended the path. She rode back to 
 the Hohentwiel, at a furious gallop. Her servant 
 could scarcely follow her. 
 
 Ekkehard knew not what happened to him. He 
 passed his hand over his eyes, as if there were scales 
 over them. 
 
 While in the silent night he was sitting in his 
 tower on the Hohentwiel, and thinking over the 
 events of the day, a distant gleam of fire flashed in 
 the sky. He looked out. From the fir-trees on the 
 Hohenkrahen arose the fiery blaze. 
 
 The Forest woman had been paying her last 
 visit to the future chapel of St. Hadwig.
 
 176 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHRISTMAS. 
 
 The evening on the Hohenkrahen rang in false 
 tones in the duchess's mind for several days. Dis- 
 cords are not easily forgiven, especially by one who 
 has caused them. 
 
 For this reason Frau Hadwig spent some days in 
 a very bad humor in her own private apartments. 
 Grammar and Vergil rested. With Praxedis she 
 took up the old jest about the schoolmasters at Con- 
 stantinople, and seemed to appreciate it better than 
 before. 
 
 Ekkehard asked whether he were to continue the 
 lessons. 
 
 " I have a toothache," said the duchess. 
 
 " The rough autumnal weather must be the cause 
 of it," he said, expressing his regret. 
 
 He asked several times every day how she was. 
 This conciHated the duchess. 
 
 " How comes it," she asked once of Praxedis, 
 *' that a person can be of more real worth than he 
 himself knows how to show 1 " 
 
 " From a lack of gracefulness," replied the Greek 
 maid. "In other countries I have found the re- 
 verse ; but here, people are too lazy with every step, 
 with every gesture, with every word, to express their
 
 CHRISTMAS 1 77 
 
 real self. They prefer to hide it in their thoughts, 
 and they think every one must be able to read on 
 their foreheads what is going on within." 
 
 " But yet we are generally so industrious," re- 
 marked Frau Hadwig, complacently. 
 
 " The buffaloes likewise work the live-long day," 
 Praxedis had almost retorted ; but for once she con- 
 tented herself with merely thinking it. 
 
 Ekkehard was unembarrassed. It had not oc- 
 curred to him that he had given the duchess an un- 
 suitable answer. He really had been thinking of 
 that Scripture comparison, and failed to see that it 
 was not the right thing to quote Scripture in reply 
 to a timid expression of a friendly liking. He rever- 
 enced the duchess, but rather as the embodied idea 
 of high rank than as a woman. That rank demands 
 reverence had never struck him ; still less that even 
 one of loftiest position is often perfectly satisfied 
 with simple affection. He noticed that Frau Had- 
 wig was out of spirits ; but he contented himself by 
 making the general observation that the intercourse 
 with a duchess was more difficult than that with his 
 brethren according to the rules of St. Benedict. 
 
 Among the books which Vincentius had left 
 behind were the Epistles of the Apostle Paul, 
 which he now studied. Herr Spazzo during those 
 days put on a still haughtier mien than usual when 
 he passed him. Frau Hadwig soon found out that it 
 was better to return to the old order of things. 
 
 "It was really a splendid view which we had that 
 evening from the Hohenkrahen, looking over to the 
 snow-clad mountains," said she one day to Ekkehard. 
 
 VOL. I. — 12
 
 178 EKKEHARD 
 
 " But do you know our weather-signs on the Hohen- 
 twiel ? Whenever the Alps appear very distinct and 
 near, the weather is sure to change. We have had 
 some bad days since We will take up our reading 
 of Vergil again." 
 
 Then Ekkehard, highly pleased, brought his heavy 
 metal-bound Vergilius, and they resumed their 
 studies. He read and translated to the ladies the 
 second book of the ^neid, about the fall of lofty 
 Troy, the wooden horse and Sinon's treachery and 
 the fearful end of Laocoon, the battle in the night, 
 Cassandra's fate, and Priamus' death, and -Eneas' 
 flight with the aged Anchises. 
 
 With evident sympathy Frau Hadwig listened to 
 the interesting tale. Only she was not quite satisfied 
 with the disappearance of ^Eneas' spouse Creiisa. 
 
 " That he need not have told Queen Dido at such 
 length," she said; "the living woman surely was not 
 overpleased to hear that he had run so long after the 
 lost one. Lost is lost." 
 
 Meantime the winter was swiftly drawing near. 
 The sky grew dreary and leaden-gray, and the dis- 
 tance remained shrouded. First the mountain-peaks 
 round about put on their white snow-blankets ; then 
 field and valley followed their example. Young 
 icicles made experiments on the rafters under the 
 roofs to see if they might quietly hang there for 
 some months to come ; the old linden-tree in the 
 courtyard — like a thrifty householder who lets the 
 Hebrew have his worn-out garments — had long 
 since shaken down its faded leaves as the sport of
 
 CHRISTMAS 179 
 
 the winds. It made a great heap, which they sent 
 scurrying in all directions. To the branches flew 
 the cawing rooks, coming from the neighboring 
 woods, and eagerly watching for a crumb from the 
 castle kitchen. Once there came among the sable 
 brotherhood one the flight of which was heavy, as its 
 wings were damaged ; but as Ekkehard went across 
 the' courtyard, the raven flew screeching away. It had 
 seen the monk's habit before, and did not like it. 
 
 Winter nights are long and dark. Now and then 
 gleam the Northern Lights ; but far brighter than 
 any Northern Lights comes to the hearts of men the 
 remembrance of that night when angels descended 
 to the shepherds in the fields and brought them the 
 greeting, — 
 
 Glory to God in the highest^ afid on earth peace, 
 good will towards ?nen. 
 
 On the Hohentwiel they were preparing for the 
 Christmas festival by getting ready all sorts of pres- 
 ents. The year is long, and numbers many days in 
 which people can treat one another in a friendly 
 way ; but the Germans like having one especial day 
 prescribed for that pleasant custom. Therefore 
 they excel other nations in the custom of making 
 Christmas presents. The good heart has its own 
 peculiar rights. 
 
 During this time Frau Hadwig had almost en- 
 tirely laid aside the grammar. In the women's 
 quarters there was great work in sewing and em- 
 broidery. Balls of gold thread and black silk lay 
 scattered about ; and when Ekkehard once came in 
 unperceived, Praxedis rushed up in front of him and
 
 l80 EKKEHARD 
 
 pushed him out of the door, while Frau Hadwig hid 
 some needlework in a basket. 
 
 This attracted Ekkehard's attention, and he 
 reached the not unreasonable conclusion that they 
 were preparing - some present for him. For that 
 reason it seemed to him appropriate to make a re- 
 turn, and to employ the best of his know-ledge and 
 artistic abiUty for that purpose. He sent word to 
 his friend and teacher, Folkard, at St. Gall, to for- 
 ward to him parchment and colors and brushes and 
 precious ink. He did so. Then Ekkehard sat up 
 many an hour at night in his tower, pondering over 
 a Latin poem, which he would dedicate to the 
 duchess, and in which should be contained some 
 delicate homage. 
 
 But this was not such an easy task! Once he 
 began at the creation of the world, intending to 
 bring the story down in compendious form to the ac- 
 cession of Frau Hadwig as duchess of Suabia ; but 
 after composing some hundred hexameters he had 
 not yet got as far as King David ; and at that rate 
 the work might possibly have been finished by 
 Christmas three years later. Another time he tried 
 to number up all the women who, either by their 
 power or beauty, had influenced the fate of nations, 
 from Queen Semiramis down, not forgetting to men- 
 tion the virgin Amazons, the heroic Judith, and the 
 tuneful Sappho; but to his regret he found that 
 by the time his pen had w^orked its way to the duch- 
 ess it would be quite impossible to say anything new 
 in her praise. So he went about downcast and much 
 distressed.
 
 CHRISTMAS l8l 
 
 " Have you swallowed a spider, pearl of all pro- 
 fessors ? " inquired Praxedis one day, on meeting 
 him in this disturbed condition. 
 
 " You may well be jesting," said Ekkehard, sadly ; 
 and under the seal of secrecy he confided his 
 griefs to her. Praxedis could not help laughing. 
 
 " By the thirty-six thousand volumes in the library 
 at Constantinopolis ! " she exclaimed. " Why, you 
 are going to cut down whole forests, when a few 
 flowers for a bouquet are all that 's wanted. Make 
 it simple, unpedantic, graceful, — such as your be- 
 loved Vergil would have made it ! " 
 
 She ran away. Ekkehard set to work again in 
 his chamber. " Like Vergil .? " he mused. But in 
 the whole of the -^neid there was no example of a 
 similar case. He read several cantos. Then he 
 sat dreamily thinking. Suddenly a good idea struck 
 him. " I have it ! " he cried. " The beloved poet 
 himself shall do homage to her ! " 
 
 He then wrote a poem, as if Vergil had appeared 
 to him in the solitude of his tower expressing his 
 delight that his poetry still lived again in Ger- 
 man lands, and thanking the high-born lady for 
 thus befriending him. In a few minutes it was 
 ready. 
 
 This poem Ekkehard now wished to transfer to 
 parchment, adorned by beautiful illustrations. So 
 he composed the following picture : The duchess, 
 with crown and sceptre, sitting on a high throne; 
 Vergil, in white garments, advances toward her, and 
 inclines his laurel-crowned head. By the right 
 hand he leads Ekkehard, who modestly walks by 
 
 'JW?
 
 1 82 EKKEHARD 
 
 his side, as the pupil with the master, likewise 
 humbly bowing before her. 
 
 In the strict manner of the excellent Folkard, he 
 first drew the sketch. He remembered a picture in 
 a psalm-book, representing the young David before 
 King Abimelech.12^ He arranged the figures thus: 
 he drew the duchess two fingers' breadth taller 
 than Vergil, and the Ekkehard of the sketch was, on 
 the other hand, considerably shorter than the heathen 
 poet. Budding Art, lacking other means, expresses 
 rank and greatness outwardly. 
 
 With the figure of Vergil he succeeded tolerably 
 well ; for at St. Gall they had always used ancient 
 pictures as the traditional models for their drawings, 
 and adopted a conventional method for both drapery 
 and outline. Likewise he succeeded with his own 
 portrait, — at least so far as to draw a figure in a 
 monk's habit and evidently wearing a tonsure. But 
 a terrible problem for him was the correct repre- 
 sentation of a queenly woman's form ; for never, as 
 yet, had the effigy of a woman — not even that of 
 Mary the Mother of God — received admittance 
 amongst the monastery's paintings. David and 
 Abimelech, familiar as they were, were of no help to 
 him here ; for the regal mantle scarcely came down 
 to their knees, and he knew not how to manage the 
 draping of it when it was longer. 
 
 So anxiety once more resumed its seat on his 
 brow. 
 
 " Well ? " asked Praxedis one day- 
 
 " The poem is finished," replied Ekkehard. " Now 
 something else is wanting."
 
 CHRISTMAS 183 
 
 " And what may that be ? " 
 
 " I want to know in what way women's garments 
 cling to their tender bodies," said he, in a melan- 
 choly tone. . . . 
 
 " What you say is really very shocking, O chosen 
 vessel of virtue," chided Praxedis. Ekkehard, how- 
 ever, explained his difficulties in a clearer way. Then 
 the Greek girl made a movement with her hand, as 
 if to lift his eyelids. 
 
 " Open your eyes," she said, " and look at what is 
 alive ! " 
 
 The advice was simple, and yet novel to one who 
 had acquired all his art in his solitary cell. Ekke- 
 hard gave his counsellor along and scrutinizing look. 
 
 " It avails me nothing," said he. " You do not 
 wear a regal mantle." 
 
 Then the Greek girl took pity on the doubt-beset 
 artist. " Wait," said she ; " the duchess is down in 
 the garden : I will put on her ducal mantle, and that 
 will help you." 
 
 She glided out, and after a few minutes reap- 
 peared; the heavy purple mantle, with its golden 
 embellishments, hung negligently from her shoulders. 
 With measured steps she walked through the cham- 
 ber. On a table stood a brass candlestick : she took 
 it for a sceptre ; with head thrown back, she came 
 and stood before the monk. 
 
 He had taken out his pencil and a piece of parch- 
 ment. " Turn round a little more toward the light," 
 said he, and began at once to draw eagerly. 
 
 But every time, when he looked at his graceful 
 model, she darted a sparkling look at him. His
 
 1 84 EKKEHARD 
 
 movements became slower ; Praxedis looked out of 
 the window. " But, as our rival in the realm," 
 began she with an artificially raised voice, "is al- 
 ready leaving the courtyard, and threatens to take 
 us by surprise, we command you, on pain of losing 
 your head, to finish your drawing within the next 
 minute/' 
 
 " I thank you," said Ekkehard, putting down his 
 pencil. 
 
 Praxedis stepped up to him, and bending forwards, 
 looked at what he had done. •' What shameful trea- 
 son ! " she exclaimed. " The picture has no head ! " 
 
 " I merely wanted the drapery," said Ekkehard. 
 
 " You have missed your fortune," continued Prax- 
 edis, in her former jesting tone. " If you had faith- 
 fully portrayed the features, who knows whether, in 
 sign of our princely favor , we should not have made 
 you patriarch of Constantinople ! " 
 
 Steps were heard outside. Praxedis quickly tore 
 off the mantel from her shoulders, so that it dropped 
 on her arm ; the duchess was already standing before 
 them. 
 
 " Are you learning Greek again 1 " she reproach- 
 fully asked of Ekkehard. 
 
 " I have been showing him the precious sardonyx 
 in the clasp of my mistress's mantle ; — it is such a 
 beautifully cut head," said Praxedis. " Herr Ekke- 
 hard has much taste for antiquities, and he was 
 greatly pleased with the intagHo." . . . 
 
 Even Audifax made his preparations for Christmas. 
 His hope of finding treasures had greatly dimin- 
 ished. He now clung more to what was actually
 
 CHRISTMAS 185 
 
 in his reach. Often at night-time, he descended into 
 the valley \o the shores of the river Aach, which with 
 sluggish current flowed on towards the lake. Close 
 to the rotten foot-bridge stood a hollow willow-tree. 
 There Audifax lay in ambush many an hour, his 
 raised stick directed toward the opening in the tree. 
 He was on the look-out for an otter. But no philos- 
 opher trying to fathom the ultimate cause of Being 
 ever found his task so difficult as did the shepherd- 
 lad with his otter-hunting ; for from the steep bank 
 there were many subterranean outlets into the river, 
 which the otter knew and Audifax did not. And 
 often when Audifax, trembhng with cold, said, 
 " Now it must come," he would hear a noise far 
 up the river ; it was his friend the otter putting its 
 snout out of the water to take a good breath ; and 
 when Audifax softly crept up in the direction of the 
 sound, the otter was lying on its back and floating 
 comfortably down stream. . . . 
 
 In the kitchen on the Hohentwiel there was great 
 bustle and activity, — as in the tent of a commander- 
 in-chief on the eve of a battle. Frau Hadwig her- 
 self stood among the serving-maidens. She did not 
 wear her ducal mantle, but a white apron ; she distrib- 
 uted flour and honey, and superintended the baking 
 of the gingerbread. Praxedis was mixing ginger, 
 pepper, and cinnamon, to flavor the paste with. 
 
 "What shape shall we make it?" asked she. 
 " The square with the serpents ? " 
 
 " No, the big heart is prettier," ^3- said Frau Had- 
 wig. So the gingerbread was baked in the shape of 
 hearts, and the finest was stuck with almonds and 
 cardamom by the duchess's own hand.
 
 1 86 EKKEHAKD 
 
 One morning Audifax entered the kitchen, half 
 frozen with cold, and crept up to the fireplace. His 
 lips trembled as in a fever ; but he was happy, and in 
 high spirits. " Get ready, my boy," said Praxedis, 
 " for this afternoon thou must go over into the forest 
 and hew down a fir-tree." 
 
 " That is not my business," proudly said Audifax, 
 "but I will do it, if you will also do me a favor.*' 
 
 " And what does master goat-herd desire ? " asked 
 Praxedis. 
 
 Audifax ran out, and on returning, triumphantly 
 held up a dark-brown otter-skin, glossy and soft to 
 the touch. 
 
 " Where did you get that from ? " asked Praxedis. 
 
 " I caught it myself," replied Audifax, looking with 
 sparkling eyes at his booty. " Will you make a 
 fur cap out of it for Hadumoth ? " 
 
 The Greek maid liked the boy well, and premised 
 to fulfil his request. 
 
 The Christmas-tree was brought home ; they deco- 
 rated it with apples and wax-lights. The duchess 
 arranged everything in the great hall. A man from 
 Stein on the Rhine had arrived and brought a bas- 
 ket tightly sewed up in linen. He said that it was 
 from St. Gall, and destined for Herr Ekkehard. 
 Frau Hadwig had the basket put unopened on the 
 table with the other gifts. 
 
 Christmas Eve had arrived. All the inhabitants 
 of the castle were assembled, dressed in festal array ; 
 for on that day there was to be no separation between 
 masters and ser\'ants. Ekkehard read to them the 
 story of the Saviour's nativity; then they all went,
 
 CHRISTMAS 187 
 
 two and two, into the great hall, where there was a 
 blaze of lights. The dark fir-tree, with its many 
 candles, shone splendidly. The last to enter were 
 Audifax and Hadumoth. A little bit of tinsel, with 
 which the nuts had been gilded, lay on the threshold. 
 Audifax stooped to pick it up ; it crumbled in his 
 fingers. 
 
 " That fell off from the wings of the Christ-child," 
 whispered Hadumoth. 
 
 On large tables lay the presents for the serving- 
 people, — a piece of linen or cloth, and some cakes. 
 They rejoiced at their mistress's geniality, which was 
 not always so manifest. Together with Hadumoth's 
 share lay the fur cap. She wept when Praxedis 
 kindly betrayed the giver to her. 
 
 " I have nothing for thee," said she to Audifax. 
 ' *' It is instead of the golden crown," whispered he. 
 
 Men and maid-servants thanked the duchess, and 
 went down to the servants' hall. Frau Hadwigtook 
 Ekkehard by the hand and led him to a little table. 
 
 " This is for you," said she. 
 
 With the almond-covered gingerbread heart and 
 the basket lay a handsome velvet biretta and a 
 magnificent stole. Fringe and ground were of gold 
 thread ; dark dots were embroidered in it in black 
 silk, some of them studded with pearls. It was wor- 
 thy of a bishop. 
 
 " Let me see how it becomes you," said Praxedis ; 
 and in spite of their ecclesiastical character, she put 
 the cap on his head, and threw the stole over his 
 shoulders. Ekkehard cast down his eyes. " Splen- 
 did," she exclaimed ; " you may offer your thanks ! "
 
 1 88 EKKEHARD 
 
 Shyly Ekkehard took off the consecrated gifts; 
 out of his ample garment he drew the parchment 
 roll, and timidly presented it to the duchess. Frau 
 Hadwig held it unopened in her hand. 
 
 " First we must open the basket," she said. 
 "The best" — smilingly pointing to the parchment 
 — " must come last." 
 
 So they cut open the basket. Buried in hay, and 
 well preserved by the winter's cold, lay a huge black- 
 cock. Ekkehard lifted it up. With outspread 
 wings it measured more than the height of a man. 
 A letter accompanied this magnificent piece of 
 feathered game. 
 
 " Read it aloud ! " said the duchess, whose curi- 
 osity was aroused. Ekkehard broke the clumsy seal 
 and read as follows : — 
 
 To the I'everend Brother Ekkehard on the Hohen- 
 tiviel^ throiigJi Burkard the cloistei'-pupil^ from 
 Romeias the watchman at the gate. 
 
 If there were two of them^ one would be for you ; 
 but as I have not beett lucky enough to get two, this 
 one is fiotfor you, and yours will come later. It is 
 sent to you on account of not knowing her 7iaine; 
 biit she was with the lady duchess in the monastery 
 on that day, and wore a dress of the color of the 
 green woodpecker^ and her tresses luere fastened 
 round her head. 
 
 For her the bird, on account of continical think- 
 ing, on the part of him who shot it, of the walk to 
 the recluses. It must be well macerated and roasted^ 
 because otherwise tough. In case of other guests,
 
 CHRISTMAS 1 89 
 
 she is he7'self to eat the white jneat on the backbone^ 
 becattse that is the best; the brown often having a 
 7'esinoics taste. 
 
 With it all blessings afid happiness / To you, 
 reverend brother, likewise. If on your castle were 
 wanting a watchman, porter, or gamekeeper, you 
 might recommend Romeias to the duchess j for on 
 account of being mocked at by the steward, a7id of 
 the co7nplaints of that dragon Wiborad, he would 
 gladly change his service. Testimony as to his skill 
 as gatekeeper, both in giving admittance and pitch- 
 ing 02ct of strange visitors, can be furnished. The 
 sajne with regard to hunting. He is already now 
 .looking toward the Hohejitwiel, as if a cord were 
 drawing him thither. Long life to you and to the 
 lady duchess ! Farewell / 
 
 A merry peal of laughter followed the reading. 
 Praxedis had grown red in the face. " That is mean 
 thanks from you," angrily exclaimed she to Ekke- 
 hard, " that you write letters in another man's name, 
 to insult me ! " 
 
 " Stop," said he. " Why should the letter not be 
 genuine ? " 
 
 " It would not be the first that was forged by a 
 monk," was Praxedis's bitter reply. " Why need 
 you make sport of that rough huntsman ? He was 
 by no means so bad ! " 
 
 " Praxedis, be reasonable ! " urged the duchess. 
 "Look at that black-cock! that was never shot in 
 the Hegau; and Ekkehard writes a somewhat dif- 
 ferent hand. Shall we give the petitioner a place on 
 the Hohentwiel ? "
 
 igo EKKEHARD 
 
 " I beg of you not,'' cried Praxedis, eagerly. " Xo 
 one is to believe that — " 
 
 "Very well,'' said Frau Hadwig, in a tone be- 
 speaking silence. She unrolled Ekkehard's parch- 
 ment. The painting at the beginning had succeeded 
 tolerably well ; any doubt as to its meaning was ob- 
 viated by the superscription of the names, — Had- 
 wigis, Vergilius, and Ekkehard. A bold initial, with 
 intricate golden arabesques, headed the poem. 
 
 The duchess was highly pleased. Ekkehard had 
 never before given her any proof of his possessing 
 such skill in art. Praxedis looked at the purple 
 mantle which the duchess in the picture wore, and 
 smiled as if she knew something about it. 
 
 Frau Hadwig made a sign to Ekkehard to read 
 and explain the poem. He read it. In EngHsh it 
 runs as follows : — 
 
 At silent midtiight I was sitting lone, 
 
 And poring over ancient tnamiscripts, 
 
 When through my chamber flashed a sudden gleam 
 
 Of superjiatnral light . ""Twasjiot the moon. 
 
 And then before me stood a radiant form : — 
 
 A stnile imtnortal hovered round his lips, 
 
 In raven ttiasses waved his flowing locks, 
 
 And for a crown he wore the laurel wreath. 
 
 And pointing to the parchment book unrolled 
 
 To tne he spake: '■'■ Be not dismayed, my friend. 
 
 No spirit to disturb thy peace am I ; 
 
 Only to wish thee cccry good I come ; 
 
 What in dead letter still is told thee there 
 
 Once with my own warm hearths blood did I write ; — 
 
 The Trojan arms, Aeneas^ wanderings. 
 
 The wrath of gods, the founding of proud Rome.
 
 CHRISTMAS igi 
 
 '* A thousand years will soon have rolled away : 
 
 The bard is dead ; dead are his tiation all. 
 
 My grave is silent. Rarely come to me 
 
 The sounds of jocund vintage festivals 
 
 Or roar of surf on neighboring Cape Misene. 
 
 " But lately hath the north wind broke my rest : — 
 He brought me tidings that in foreign lands 
 Once more Aeneas'' history is read ; 
 And that a proud and august princess there 
 Bids graciously her native tongue to wreathe 
 As a new garment round my epic words. 
 
 " We used to think the Rhitieland ''neath the Alps 
 
 Was marshy fens ^ where dwelt a barbarous folk. 
 
 Oblivion has become our lot at home ; 
 
 But in the distant land we live anew. 
 
 For this to thank you am I here to-day. 
 
 The costliest guerdon minstrel ever ivins 
 
 Is when a noble wojnan gives him praise. 
 
 " Hail to thy lady, who the wondrous dower 
 Of strength and wisdom holds in union rare ; 
 Who like Minerva mid her kindred gods 
 Is clad in warlike brass, in battle proved. 
 And yet protects and shields the arts of peace. 
 May she the sceptre wield for long, long ycars^ 
 A strong and happy people round her flourish ! 
 
 " And if strange music ever meet your ears 
 Like song of heroes and a distant harp, 
 Then think of me : Italia greets you then ; 
 Vcrgilius greets the heights of Hohentwiel! " 
 
 Thus spake he, and with fricttdly gesture vanished; 
 And I that self-saine night zvrote down the words 
 His lips had uttered. To my mistress now 
 ' T is offered as a humble Christmas gift 
 By her own faithful servaiit Ekkehard !
 
 192 EKKEHARD 
 
 A short pause ensued after he had finished the 
 reading of his poem. Then the duchess approached 
 him with outstretched hand. 
 
 " Ekkehard, I thank you," said she. 
 
 They were the same words which she had once 
 said to him in the cloistered courtyard at St. Gall ; but 
 the tones were still milder than at that time ; her 
 eyes sparkled and her lips wore a wondrous smile, 
 like that of sweet-eyed fairies, which is said to be 
 followed by a shower of snow-white roses. 
 
 She then turned to Praxedis : *' And thee I ought 
 to condemn to ask his pardon on thy very knees, for 
 having but lately spoken with so little veneration of 
 learned and ecclesiastical men." 
 
 But the Greek girFs eyes sparkled mischievously, 
 well knowing that without her help and advice the 
 shy monk would scarcely have been able to attain 
 this success. 
 
 "In future I will pay him all the reverence that is 
 due," said she. " I will even weave him a garland 
 if you desire it." 
 
 After Ekkehard had gone up to his little chamber, 
 and the quiet midnight hour was at hand, the two 
 women still were sitting together. And the Greek 
 girl fetched a basin filled with water, some pieces of 
 lead, and a metal spoon. 
 
 " Last year's lead-melting prophesied well," said 
 she. *' We could not then quite understand what 
 the strange shape was which the lead assumed in 
 the water ; but now I am more and more inclined 
 to think that it resembled a monk's cowl; and that 
 our castle has come into possession of."
 
 CHRISTMAS 193 
 
 The duchess had become thoughtful. She listened 
 to hear whether Ekkehard might not be returning. 
 
 " It is nothing but an idle amusement," said she. 
 
 " If it does not please my mistress," said the Greek 
 girl, " then she might order our teacher to entertain 
 us with something better. His Vergilius is no doubt 
 a far more rehable oracle of the future than our lead, 
 when opened, on a consecrated night, with prayers 
 and a blessing. I am quite curious to know what 
 part of his epic would foretell to us the events of 
 the coming year." 
 
 " Be silent ! " said the duchess. " He spoke but 
 lately so sternly against witchcraft ; he would laugh 
 at us. . . ." 
 
 " Then we shall have to content ourselves with 
 the old way," returned Praxedis ; and she held the 
 spoon with the lead in it over the flame of the lamp. 
 The lead melted and trembled ; then she stood up, 
 muttered a few unintelligible words, and poured it into 
 the water ; the liquid metal made a hissing sound. 
 
 Frau Hadwig, with assumed indifference, cast a 
 look at it ; Praxedis held the basin up to the light. 
 Instead of dividing into fantastic shapes, the lead 
 had formed a long pointed drop. It glimmered 
 faintly in Frau Hadwig's hand. 
 
 " That is another riddle for time to solve," laughed 
 Praxedis. " The future this time closely resembles 
 a pine cone." 
 
 " Or a tear," said the duchess, seriously, and she 
 leaned her head on her hand.^^^^ 
 
 A loud noise from the ground floor of the castle 
 interrupted the further investigation of the omen. 
 VOL. I. — 13
 
 194 EKKEHARD 
 
 Giggling and screams of the maid-servants, rough 
 sounds of men's voices, and the shrill tones of a 
 lute were heard in wild confusion coming up the 
 passage. Respectfully but beseechingly the flying 
 troop of maids stopped at the threshold. The tall 
 Friderun could scarcely refrain from scolding at the 
 top of her voice ; little Hadumoth was crying. 
 Groping, heavy steps were heard behind them, and 
 presently there appeared an uncouth figure, wrapped 
 in a bearskin, with a painted wooden mask in the form 
 of a bears snout ; it snarled and growled like a 
 hungry bruin seeking for its pre}', and now and 
 then plucked clumsily at a lute which hung by a red 
 ribbon over its shaggy shoulders ; but as soon as the 
 door of the hall was thrown open, and the duchess's 
 rustling dress was heard approaching, the nocturnal 
 apparition turned round, and slowly stumbled back 
 into the echoing passage. 
 
 The old housekeeper then found her tongue, and 
 told their mistress how they had been sitting merrily 
 together, rejoicing over their Christmas presents, when 
 the monster had broken in upon them, and had first 
 executed a fine danee to its own lute-playing ; how 
 then it had blown out the candles and threatened 
 the frightened maidens with kisses and embraces, and 
 had become so wild and obstreperous that they had 
 all been obliged to take flight. 
 
 By the hoarse laughter of the bear there was 
 strong reason for suspecting that hidden under the 
 shaggy fur was Herr Spazzo the chamberlain, who, 
 after imbibing a considerable quantity of wine, had 
 concluded his Christmas frolics in that way.
 
 CHRISTMAS 195 
 
 Frau Hadwig appeased her indignant servants, and 
 bade them go to bed. From the yard, however, was 
 soon heard another cry of surprise. There they all 
 stood in a group, gazing up at the tower; for the ter- 
 rible bear had climbed up, and was now promenad- 
 ing on the top of it, hfting his shaggy head up to 
 the stars, as if he wanted to send a greeting to his 
 namesake, — the Great Bear high up in the firma- 
 ment. 
 
 The dark figure stood out in clear outlines against 
 the pale starry sky ; his growls weirdly sounded 
 through the silent night; but no mortal ever 
 knew what the luminous constellations revealed 
 to the wine-clouded brains of Herr Spazzo the 
 chamberlain. . . . 
 
 At the same midnight hour Ekkehard knelt before 
 the altar of the castle chapel, softly chanting the 
 Christmas-matins,-34 as the church rules prescribed.
 
 196 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE OLD MAX OF THE HEIDENHOHLE. 
 
 The rest of the winter on the Hobentwiel passed 
 monotonously, and so was quickly over. They 
 prayed and worked, read \^ergil and studied gram- 
 mar, ever}' day. Frau Had wig had quite given up 
 asking embarrassing questions. 
 
 During the Carnival, the neighboring nobility 
 came to pay their respects to the duchess, — those 
 of the Nellenburg and of Veringen; the old count 
 of Argengau with his daughters, the seven Guelphs 
 from over the lake, and many others. ^^ Then there 
 was much feasting, accompanied by more drinking. 
 
 After that it became lonely again on the mountain- 
 top. 
 
 March had come, heavy gales blew over the land. 
 On the first starlight night there was a comet in the 
 sky ; 13^ and the stork which lived comfortably on 
 the castle-gable had flown away again a week after 
 its return. The people shook their heads. Then 
 the shepherd of Engen came along driving his flock 
 past the mountain; he told how he had met the 
 army-worm ; ^^'^ that means war. 
 
 A strange, uncomfortable feeling took possession 
 of all minds. The approach of an earthquake is 
 often felt at a considerable distance, — here by the
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 1 97 
 
 stopping of a spring, there by the anxious flying 
 about of birds ; in the same way the danger of war 
 makes itself felt beforehand. 
 
 Herr Spazzo, who had bravely sat behind the 
 wine-jug in February, now walked about with a 
 downcast expression. 
 
 "Will you do me a favor," said he one evening 
 to Ekkehard. "In my dream I saw a dead fish 
 floating on its back. I wish to make my last will. 
 The world has become old, and is left standing 
 on its last leg; and that also will soon give way. 
 Good-bye, then, Firnewine ! Besides, we are not very 
 far off from the Millennium, and have Hved merrily 
 enough. Perhaps one's last years will count double. 
 Mankind can not accomplish much more. Civiliza- 
 tion has gone so far that in this one castle of Hohen- 
 twiel more than half a dozen books lie heaped up ; 
 and when a fellow gets a good thrashing, he goes 
 up to court and makes his complaint, instead of 
 burning down his enemy's house over his head. So 
 the world is coming to an end." 1^8 
 
 " Who is to be your heir, if all the world is to 
 perish ? " asked Ekkehard . 
 
 A man from Augsburg coming to the Reichenau 
 brought evil tidings. Bishop Ulrich had prom- 
 ised a precious relic to the monastery, — the right 
 arm of the holy Theopontus, richly set in silver and 
 precious stones. He now sent word that, as the 
 country was unsafe at present, he could not risk 
 sending it. 
 
 The abbot ordered the man to go to the Hohen- 
 twiel to inform the duchess of the state of things.
 
 198 EKKEHARD 
 
 " What good news do you bring ? " slie asked of 
 him. 
 
 " Not much. I would rather carry away good 
 news from here. The Suabian arriere-ban is up in 
 arms ; horses and riders, as many as have a sword 
 and shield hanging on their walls, are ready. They 
 are again on the road between the Danube and the 
 Rhine," ... 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Our old friends from over yonder : the small 
 fellows with the deep-set eyes and blunt noses. A 
 good deal of tough meat will again be ridden tender 
 under the saddle this year." 
 
 He drew out of his pocket a small horseshoe, of 
 strange shape, with a high caulk to it. Do you 
 know the proverb : — 
 
 Little hoof a7id little steed. 
 
 Crooked sabre, arrows keen. 
 
 Quick as lightning, 
 
 Ne'er at rest, 
 
 Lord, deliver lis from this pest ! 
 
 " The Huns ? " ^^9 exclaimed the duchess, startled. 
 
 "Whether you prefer to call them Hungarians or 
 Hungry-ones, 't is the same to me," said the mes- 
 senger. " Bishop Pilgrim sent the tidings from Pas- 
 sau to Freising ; from there the story reached us. 
 They have already swum across the Danube, and 
 like locusts they will be falling into the German 
 lands ; quick as winged devils they are. 'You may 
 sooner catch the wind on the plain, or the bird 
 in the air,' is an old saying with us. May their 
 horses get the blind staggers ! As for myself, my
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 1 99 
 
 only fear is for my sister's child, — the pretty little 
 Bertha at Passau." 
 
 " It is impossible ! " said Frau Hadwig. " Can 
 they have forgotten already what answer Echanger 
 and Berchtold, the messengers of the Exche- 
 quer, returned them : ' We have iron and swords, 
 and five fingers to our hands'? In the battle on 
 the Inn, these words were plainly written on their 
 heads. ..." 
 
 " For that very reason," said the man. " He who 
 has been beaten once, likes to come back and beat 
 in his turn. The messengers of the Exchequer, as 
 a reward for their bravery, had their heads cut off ; 
 so who will take their places in the van ? " 
 
 " We likewise know the path on which our ances- 
 tors went out to meet the enemy," proudly returned 
 the duchess. 
 
 She dismissed the man from Augsburg with a 
 present. Then she sent for Ekkehard. 
 
 " Vergil will have to rest a while," said she, and 
 she told him of the danger threatened by the Huns. 
 The state of things was by no means pleasant. The 
 nobles had forgotten, in personal feuds of long 
 standing, how to act in common ; the Emperor, of 
 Saxon origin and not over-fond of the Suabians, was 
 fighting in Italy, far away from the German frontier; 
 the passage to the Bodensee was open to the strange 
 visitors. Their very name inspired terror. For 
 years their hordes had been swarming like will-o'-the- 
 wisps through the disorganized realm which Charle- 
 magne had left in the hands of incompetent succes- 
 sors. From the shores of the North Sea, where
 
 200 EKKEHARD 
 
 the ruins of Bremen bore witness of theii invasion, 
 down to the southern point of Calabria, where the 
 natives had to pay a ransom for each head, fire 
 and plunder marked their way. . . . 
 
 " Unless the pious Bishop Ulrich has seen ghosts," 
 said the duchess, *' they are certain to come to us 
 also; what is to be done? To meet them in open 
 battle ? Even bravery is folly when the enemy is 
 too numerous. To buy peace by paying tribute and 
 ransom, and so drive them over to our neighbors' 
 territory ? Others have done that, but we have 
 other ideas of honor and dishonor. Are we to barri- 
 cade ourselves on the Hohentwiel, and leave the land 
 to their mercy .'' They are our subjects, and we have 
 promised them our ducal protection. Advise us ! " 
 
 " My knowledge does not extend to such matters," 
 sorrowfully replied Ekkehard. 
 
 The duchess was excited, " Oh, schoolmaster," 
 6ried she, reproachfully, " why did not Heaven make 
 you a warrior 1 Many things would be better then ! " 
 
 Ekkehard, deeply hurt, turned to go. The words 
 had entered his heart like an arrow, and remained 
 there. There was some truth in the reproach ; so it 
 hurt him. 
 
 "Ekkehard," called Frau Hadwig, "you must not 
 go. You must serve the country with your knowl- 
 edge, and what you do not know as yet, you may 
 learn. I will send you to some one who, if he is 
 still alive, is well versed in such matters. Will you 
 undertake this mission for me ? " 
 
 Ekkehard had turned round again. " I never have 
 been unwilling to serve my mistress," said he. 

 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 201 
 
 " But you must not be startled if he gives you but 
 a rough and unfriendly reception. He has suffered 
 many a wrong from past generations ; and those of 
 the present day do not know him. Neither must you 
 be startled if he should appear to you very old and 
 fat." 
 
 He had listened attentively. 
 
 " I do not quite understand you ..." 
 
 " It makes no difference," said the duchess. " To- 
 morrow you are to go over to Sipplingen. Over 
 yonder, at the lake of Ueberlingen, where the steep 
 rocky shore sinks down into the water, are all sorts 
 of caverns, cut into the cliff in the olden times for 
 human habitations. If you see the smoke of a fire 
 .rising out of the hill, then go up to it. There you 
 will find the person I want you to see ; speak with 
 him about the Huns." . . . 
 
 " To whom is my mistress sending me "i " inquired 
 Ekkehard, eagerly. 
 
 " To the old man of the Heidenhohle," replied 
 Frau Hadwig. " No one knows any other name for 
 him hereabouts. But stop," continued she ; " I 
 must give you the watchword, in case he refuses 
 you admittance." 
 
 She went to her cupboard, and rummaged about 
 among trinkets and other articles ; then she brought 
 out a tiny slate on which were scrawled a few letters. 
 " This you must say to him, and give him a greeting 
 from me." 
 
 Ekkehard looked at the slate. It contained only 
 the two insignificant Latin words, " iieque aiiin ! " 
 — nothing else. 
 
 " That has no meaning," said he.
 
 202 EKKEHARD 
 
 '' It makes no difference ; the old man knows well 
 what it means for him.*' . . . 
 
 Before cockcrow the next morning Ekkehard had 
 already ridden out of the gate of the Hohentwiel. 
 The fresh morning air blew into his face ; he wrapped 
 himself closely in his cowl. *' Why did not Heaven 
 make you a warrior ? many things would be better 
 then." These words of the duchess went with him, 
 like his own shadow. They were for him a spur to 
 courageous resolutions. " If the danger- comes," 
 thought he, " she shall not find the schoolmaster 
 sitting behind his books." 
 
 His horse went on at a good pace. In a few hours 
 he rode over the woody hills that separate the Unter- 
 see from the lake of Uberlingen. At the ducal farm 
 of Sernatingen the blue expanse of the lake greeted 
 him. He left his horse in the steward's care, and 
 walked on by the path that leads along the shore. 
 
 At a projecting point he stopped a while, capti- 
 vated by the fine view. His gaze, unobstructed, 
 leaped across the waters to the distant Rh^etian Alps, 
 which rise heavenward like a cr^'stalline wall, forming 
 the back-ground of the landscape. 
 
 Where the sandstone rocks arise perpendicularly 
 out of the lake, the path mounted upward. Steps 
 hewn in the rocks made the ascent easier. Apertures 
 serving as windows, with dark shadows in their hol- 
 lows, relieving the light surface of the walls, indicated 
 the places where, in the days of the Roman suprem- 
 acy, unknown men had dug out these caverns as an 
 underground refuge like the catacombs.^^° 
 
 The ascent was fatifruing:. He now reached a
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 203 
 
 level enclosure, only a few steps in circumference, on 
 which young grass was growing. Before him opened 
 an entrance into the rock, about the height of a man ; 
 but a huge black dog rushed out, violently barking. 
 Two paces from Ekkehard he stopped short, ready to 
 fly at him ; his eyes were steadily fixed on the monk, 
 who could not move without risk of the dog setting 
 his teeth in his throat. His position was certainly 
 not enviable ; retreat was impossible, and Ekkehard 
 did not carry arms. So he remained immovable, 
 facing his enemy ; then at an opening at one side 
 appeared a man's face. He had gray hair, piercing 
 eyes, and a reddish beard. 
 
 " Call back the dog ! " cried Ekkehard. 
 
 In a few moments the gray-haired man appeared 
 at the entrance. He was armed with a spear. 
 
 " Back, Mummolin ! " he cried. 
 
 The huge animal reluctantly obeyed ; not until the 
 old man had threatened it with his spear, did it 
 retreat growling. 
 
 " Your dog ought to be killed, and hung up nine 
 feet over your door, until he rotted and fell to pieces 
 on yourhead,"!^! said Ekkehard, angrily. " He nearly 
 made me fall over into the lake." He looked round ; 
 perpendicularly below him billowed the lake. 
 
 "In the Heidenhohlen the common laws have no 
 force," defiantly replied the old man. " With us, 
 'tis, — ' Keep off two paces, or we split your skull.' " 
 
 Ekkehard started to go forward. 
 
 " Stop there," continued the stranger, ban-ing the 
 passage with his spear. " Not so fast. Where are 
 you going ? "
 
 204 EKKEHARD 
 
 "To the old man of the Heidenhohle." 
 
 "To the old man of the Heidenhohle?" angrily 
 repeated the other. " Have you no more respectful 
 term for that personage, you yellow-beaked cowl- 
 bearer? " 
 
 " I know no other name," replied Ekkehard some- 
 what abashed. " My greeting is neqiie eniiii.'"' 
 
 "That sounds better," said the old man in a softer 
 tone, and offered him his hand. " Whence do you 
 come ? " 
 
 "From the Hohentwiel. I am to tell you — " 
 
 " Stop, I am not he whom you seek. I am merely 
 his servant Rauching. I will announce you." 
 
 Considering the appearance of those barren, rocky 
 walls and the black dog, this formality was surpris- 
 ing. Ekkehard was kept waiting a good while. It 
 seemed as if preparations for his reception were being 
 made. At last Rauching appeared once more. 
 
 " Be pleased to enter." 
 
 They walked along the dark passage. It widened 
 into a chamber hewn in the rocks by human hands, 
 high and spacious, with an arched vault. A rough 
 panelling partly covered the walls. The openings 
 for the windows were wide and airy. Like a picture 
 enclosed in a frame gleamed an expanse of blue lake 
 and distant wooded hills. A beam of bright, vivid 
 sunlight streamed into the dark chamber. Here and 
 there evidences of stone benches were visible ; near 
 the window stood a high-backed stone chair, resem- 
 bling a bishop's seat in old churches. In it a figure 
 was seated. 
 
 It was a strange, human form, of mightv dimen-
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENH'OHLE 205 
 
 sions. The huge head rested heavily between the 
 shoulders ; wrinkles deeply furrowed forehead and 
 cheeks: a few scanty white locks clustered round 
 the crown of his head; his mouth was almost en- 
 tirely toothless. The nyan seemed to be as old 
 as the hills. Over his shoulders hung a cloak of 
 unrecognizable color ; the back of it hidden by 
 the chair was no doubt threadbare enough ; the 
 seams and folds betrayed traces of past patching. 
 He wore a pair of coarse boots ; by his side lay an 
 old hat with a dusty trimming of fox's fur. A niche 
 in the wall held a chess-board with carved ivory 
 pieces. A game seemed to have been just finished; 
 there stood the king checkmated by a knight, and 
 two bishops ... 
 
 " Who comes to the forgotten one ? " asked the 
 old man, in a trembling voice. 
 
 Then Ekkehard, bowing his head before him, told 
 his name, and who had sent him there. 
 
 " You have brought an evil watchword with you. 
 Do people still speak of Luitward of Vercelli .^ " 
 
 "Whose soul be damned," added Raucliing. 
 
 " I have never heard anything about him," said 
 Ekkehard. 
 
 " Tell him, Rauching, who Luitward of Vercelli 
 was. It would be a pity if his memory were to die 
 out among men." 
 
 " He was the greatest rascal that ever the sun 
 shone upon," was Rauching's reply. 
 
 " Tell him also what the meaning of nequee7iii)i is." 
 
 " There is no gratitude in this world ; and of an 
 Emperor's friends the best is a traitor."
 
 206 EKKEHARD 
 
 " Even tlie best is a traitor," murmured the old 
 man, lost in thought. His eye now fell on the chess- 
 board. "Ah yes," he muttered faintly, "check- 
 mated, — checkmated by bishops and knights," — 
 he clenched his fist, and made a movement as if to 
 rise : then he sighed deeply, and raised his shrivelled 
 hand to his forehead and rested his heavy head on it. 
 
 " The headache ! " said he, — " ttie cursed head- 
 ache ! " 
 
 " Mummolin ! " cried Ranching. 
 
 With great bounds the black dog came rushing 
 in ; when he saw the old man with down-bent head, 
 he whiningly crept up to him, and licked his fore- 
 head. " 'Tis well," said the old man, after a while, 
 lifting himself up again. 
 
 "Are you ill?" asked Ekkehard, sympathetically. 
 
 " 111 ? " repeated the old man, — " it may be a sort 
 of illness! It has been visiting me so long that it 
 seems quite like an old acquaintance. Have you 
 ever had the headache .'* I advise you never to go 
 out to battle, when the headache plagues you; and 
 make no peace. It may cost you a realm, that 
 headache — " 
 
 " Could not some physician " — began Ekkehard. 
 
 " The wisdom of physicians has nothing left to try. 
 They have done their best for me." 
 
 He pointed to his forehead, where two old scars 
 crossed each other. 
 
 "Look here! — If they want you to try that 
 remedy, you must not do so. In my younger days 
 they hung me up by the feet ; — then they made the 
 cuts in my head ; they took away some blood, and
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 20/ 
 
 some of my brains ; no help ! At Cremona (Zede- 
 kias was the name of the Hebrew sage), they con- 
 sulted the stars, and placed me under a mulberry-tree 
 at midnight. It was a long exorcism with which 
 they drove the headache into the tree ; no help ! In 
 the German lands they ordered me to take powdered 
 crabs' eyes, mixed with some dust from St. Mark's 
 grave, and a draught of lake-wine after it : ^^^ all in 
 vain ! Now I am used to it. The worst is licked 
 away by Mummolin's rough tongue. Come here my 
 brave Mummolin, who has never betrayed me yet — " 
 He stopped, almost breathless, and caressed the 
 dog. 
 
 " My message — " Ekkehard was beginning, 
 But the old man waved his hand to him, 
 "Have patience; 'tis not well to speak on an 
 empty stomach. You must be hungry. Nothing is 
 more disgraceful and more holy than hunger, ^^^ g^id 
 that dean of yore, when his guest-friend ate up five 
 of the six trout before him and left him only the 
 smallest. He who has had to do with the world, 
 does not forget that saying. Ranching, prepare our 
 meal." 
 
 Ranching went into a neighboring closet, which 
 had been fitted up as a kitchen. The provisions 
 were kept in various niches. Soon a white wreath of 
 smoke was curling up from the rocky chimney into 
 the blue sky and the work of the cooking was done. 
 A stone slab served as table. The crowning piece 
 of the repast was a pike ; but the pike was old, and had 
 moss growing on its head, and its meat tasted tough 
 as leather. Ranching also brought a jug of reddish
 
 20S EKKEHARD 
 
 looking wine: but that had grown on the hills of 
 Sipplingen, which still enjoy the reputation of produ- 
 cing the sourest of all the sour wines produced on 
 the lake.^^^ Rauching waited upon them during the 
 meal, nor did he sit down wdth them. 
 
 "What do you bring me?" asked the old man, 
 when the meagre repast was ended. 
 
 " Evil tidings ; the Huns are invading the country. 
 Their hoofs will soon be treading the Suabian soil." 
 
 " Good ! " cried the old man. " That serves you 
 right. Are the Normans also coming again .-*" 
 
 " You speak strangely," said Ekkehard. 
 
 The old man's eyes lighted up. " And if enemies 
 were to spring up around you, like mushrooms from the 
 ground, you have deserv^ed it, you and your masters. 
 Rauching, fill the glass ; the Huns are coming, . . . 
 neqiie eiibnl Now you will have to swallow the 
 soup, which your masters have salted for 3'ou. A 
 great and proud empire had been founded, extending 
 from the Ebro to the Raab and even up into the 
 Danish land ; not a rat could have crept in without 
 faithful watchmen catching it. And this, the great 
 Kaiser Karl ..." 
 
 "God bless him," interrupted Rauching. 
 
 "... established and left strong and powerful. 
 The tribes which together had once ended the Roman 
 supremacy were all united as they ought to be ; in 
 those days, the Hun warily hid behind his hedge on 
 the Danube ; it was no weather for him ; and as 
 soon as they tried to move, their wooden camp-town 
 in Pannonia was destroyed to the last chip ; such a 
 storm came on it with the Frank yeomanry. . . . ^"^^
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENH'OHLE 20g 
 
 But the great ones in the home land began to feel 
 that not everyone of them could be the master of the 
 world ; so they must needs try the experiment each 
 in his own territory. Sedition, rebellion and hio-h- 
 treason well suited their tastes ; they dethroned the 
 last of the descendants of Karl who held the reins 
 of the world. — The representative of the unity 
 of the realm has become a beggar, and must eat un- 
 buttered water gruel ; — and now your lords who pre- 
 ferred Arnulf, the bastard, and their own arrogance, 
 have the Huns on their neck, and the old times are 
 coming back, as King Etzel had them painted. Do 
 you know the picture in the palace at Milan ? . . . 
 
 " There the Roman emperor was painted sitting on 
 the throne with Scythian princes lying at his feet ; 
 till one day King Etzel came riding that way, and 
 gave a long and steadfast look at the picture, and 
 laughed and said : ' Quite right ; only a small altera- 
 tion.' And he had his own features given to the 
 man on the throne, and those who were kneeling 
 before him and pouring out bags of tributary gold at 
 the foot of his throne were now the Roman Caesars. 
 . . . The picture is still to be seen." . . M^ 
 
 " You are thinking of bygone tales," said Ekkehard. 
 
 " Of bygone tales ? " exclaimed the old man. 
 " For me there has been nothing new these last forty 
 years but want and misery. Bygone tales ! 'T is 
 well for him who still remembers them, that he may 
 see how the sins of the fathers are visited on the 
 children and children's children. Do you know why 
 Charlemagne once in his life shed tears? ' As long as I 
 live,' said he, — when they announced to him the 
 VOL. I. — 14
 
 210 EKKEHARD 
 
 arrival of the Norman sea-robbers, — ' 't is mere child's 
 play, but I grieve for my grandsons.' " i'*^ 
 
 " We still have an emperor and a realm," said 
 Ekkehard. 
 
 " Have you one still? " said the old man, draining 
 his glass of sour Sipplinger, and shaking himself, 
 " I wish him joy. The corner-stones are dashed to 
 pieces ; the building is crumbling away. With 
 presumptuous nobles no realm can exist. Those who 
 ought to obey rule ; and he who ought to reign, has 
 to wheedle and flatter, instead of commanding. I 
 have heard of one, to whom his faithful subjects sent 
 the tribute in pebbles instead of silver, and the head 
 of the count who was sent to collect it lay in the bag. 
 Who has avenged it ? " 
 
 " The emperor is fighting and winning great glory 
 in Italy," rejoined Ekkehard. 
 
 " Oh Italy ! Italy ! '' continued the old man. " That 
 will yet be a thorn in the German flesh. That was 
 the only time the great Karl . . ." 
 
 " May God bless him," interrupted Ranching. 
 
 "... allowed himself to be entrapped. It was a 
 sad day when they cpowned him at Rome ; and no 
 one laughed so gleefully as he on St. Peter's chair. 
 He stood in need of us, — but what have we to do 
 with Italy.? Look there! Was that mountain-wall 
 built heaven-high for nothing ? — All that lies on the 
 other side belongs to those in Byzantium ; and it is 
 all right so, for Greek cunning is better there than 
 German strength ; but the successors of Charle- 
 magne have found nothing better to do than to 
 perpetuate his mistake. The good example he left
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 211 
 
 them they have trampled on. There was plenty to 
 do in the East and North, but they must needs run 
 off to Italy, as if the great lodestone lay in the 
 mountain back of Rome. I have often pondered 
 over it; what could have driven us in that false 
 direction ; if it was not the Devil himself, it can only 
 have been the good wine." i'^^ 
 
 Ekkehard had become saddened by the old man's 
 speeches. He seemed to perceive it. 
 
 " Do not regard what a buried man tells you," said 
 he. " We here in the Heidenhohle cannot help it ; 
 but the Truth has many a time taken up her abode 
 in caverns ; whilst Folly was striding at a great pace 
 through the land." 
 
 " A buried man ? " said Ekkehard inquiringly. 
 
 " You may for all that drink a bumper with him," 
 jestingly replied the old man. "It was necessary 
 that I should be dead to the world; for the head- 
 ache and the rascals had brought me into dishonor. 
 That is no reason why you should stare at me so, 
 little monk. Sit down here on the stone bench and 
 I will tell you a pretty story and you can make a 
 song of it to play on the lute. . . . 
 
 " Once upon a time there was an emperor who 
 had few happy days; for his realm was large and 
 he himself was big and stout, and the headache tor- 
 mented him from the day that he mounted the 
 throne. Therefore he took unto himself a chan- 
 cellor who had a fine head and could think better 
 than his master, for he was thin and lean like a pole, 
 and had no headache. The emperor had raised him 
 from the obscurity of his origin, for he was the
 
 212 EKKEHARD 
 
 son of a blacksmith ; and he bestowed favors on 
 him and followed his advice in everything and even 
 concluded a miserable peace with the Normans; 
 for his chancellor told him that this was an insig- 
 nificant affair and that he had more important 
 things to do than to worry himself about a handful 
 of pirates. At the same time, the chancellor went to 
 the emperor's consort and beguiled her w^eak heart 
 and occupied her time with lute playing. Moreover 
 he had the daughters of some noble Allemannians 
 misled ; and he joined in a league with the em- 
 peror's enemies. And when at last the emperor 
 called together a great diet to remedy the state of 
 affairs, his gaunt chancellor was among the fore- 
 most who spoke against him. With the words, 
 ' neque eniin^^ he began his speech, and he argued 
 that they must dethrone their emperor; and he 
 spoke so venomously and treacherously against the 
 Norman peace which he had himself concluded, — 
 that they all fell off from their master, like withered 
 leaves when the autumn winds shake the tree. And 
 they cried that the time for the stout one was at an 
 end ; and then and there they deposed him ; he had 
 entered Tribur as emperor, with a threefold crown 
 on his head; when he went away he had nothing 
 that he could call his own but what he wore on his 
 back; and at Mainz he sat before the Bishop's 
 castle, and was glad when they presented him with 
 a dish of soup out of the slide. The excellent chan- 
 cellor's name was Luitward of \''ercelli. May God 
 reward him according to his deserts, and the Em- 
 press Richardis also and the rest of them, like- 
 wise. ^^^
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENH'OHLE 213 
 
 " But when later the people in Suabia took pity 
 on the poor outlaw, and gave him a little bit of 
 land whereby his life might be preserved; and when 
 they thought of sending an army to fight for his 
 rights, then Luitward dispatched assassins against 
 him. It was a fine night at the Neidinger Hof, the 
 storm was breaking the branches of the trees, and 
 the shutters were rattling violently. The dethroned 
 emperor could not sleep for his headache and had 
 mounted on the roof to let the storm cool his burn- 
 ing forehead, when they broke in to murder him. 
 It is a pleasant feeling I tell you, to sit in the cold 
 night-air on the roof, with a heavy aching head," and 
 hear how people downstairs are regretting that they 
 can not strangle you, or hang you over the draw- 
 well. . . . 
 
 " He who has experienced that, had best die at 
 once. 
 
 " And the stout Meginhart at Neidingen had fallen 
 down from a tree and was killed just at the right 
 time, so that they could lay him -on the bier, and 
 spread the news in the land that the dethroned 
 emperor had paid his tribute to grim King Death. 
 They say that it was a fine procession, when they 
 carried him to the Reichenau. The Heavens 
 opened, a ray of light fell on the bier ; and they had 
 a touching oration when they lowered him into the 
 vault on the right side of the altar. ' That he 
 had been stript of his honor, and bereft of his king- 
 dom, was a trial imposed by Heaven to cleanse and 
 purify his soul, and as he bore it patiently, it is to 
 be hoped that the Lord rewarded him with the crown
 
 214 EKKEHARD 
 
 of eternal life, to comfort him for the earthly crown 
 which he had lost ' . . . Thus they preached in the 
 monastery church, ^°*^ not knowing that at that same 
 hour he whom they thought they were burying was 
 entering the solitude of the Heidenhohle with pack 
 and sack and a curse for the world. . . ." 
 
 The old man laughed. 
 
 " Here it is safe and quiet enough to think of old 
 times. Let 's drink a bumper ! Long hfe to the 
 dead ! And Luitward has been cheated after all ; 
 for though his emperor wears an old hat instead of 
 a golden crown, and drinks Sipplinger instead of 
 the sparkling Rhinewine, he is still alive ; while the 
 lean ones and all their race are dead. And the 
 stars will prove right after all ; at his birth it was 
 read in them that he would leave this false world 
 in the roar of battle. The Huns are coming ! . . . 
 Oh, come thou also soon, thou joyful end ! " 
 
 Ekkehard had listened with the utmost excite- 
 ment. " Oh Lord, how wonderful are Thy ways," 
 he exclaimed, attempting to kneel down and kiss the 
 old man's hands; but he prevented him, saying: 
 " All that sort of thfng has been done away with. 
 Take an example ..." 
 
 " Germany has greatly wronged you, and your 
 race," Ekkehard was beginning to say. 
 
 " Germany ! " interrupted the old man, " I bear her 
 no grudge. May she prosper and flourish, undis- 
 turbed by enemies ; and find some ruler who will 
 make her powerful again ; and who is not plagued with 
 the headache when the Normans come back : and not 
 have a chancellor whose name is Luitward of Ver-
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 21 5 
 
 celli. But those who have divided her garments 
 amongst them ; and cast lots for her vesture. ..." 
 
 " May Heaven punish them with fire and brim- 
 stone," ^^^ said Rauching in the background. 
 
 " What answer shall I give to my mistress from 
 you?" asked Ekkehard, after having finished his 
 beaker. 
 
 "With regard to the Huns?" said the old man. 
 " I believe that is simple enough. Tell your duchess 
 to go into the woods and see what the hedgehog 
 does, when an enemy is coming too near. It rolls 
 itself up into a ball and presents its quills ; and 
 he who lays hands on it, is wounded. Suabia has 
 plenty of lances. Do the same ! — It will not hurt 
 you monks either to carry the spear. 
 
 " And if your mistress wishes to know still more ; 
 then you may tell her the old saw which rules in the 
 Heidenhohle. Rauching, what is it ? " 
 
 " Keep off two paces, or we split your skull," he 
 replied. 
 
 " And if there should be a question of peace, then 
 tell her that the old man of the Heidenhohle once 
 concluded a bad one, and that he would never do so 
 again even though his headache is as bad as it used 
 to be ; and that he would much rather saddle his own 
 horse if the war-trumpets sound. — You may say a 
 mass for him, if you outlive his last ride." 
 
 The old man had spoken with a strange excitement. 
 Suddenly his voice broke off; his breath became 
 short, almost groaning, he bent his head. 
 
 " It is coming on again," he said. 
 
 Rauching, the serving-man, sprang to his aid and
 
 2l6 EKKEHARD 
 
 presented him with a draught of water; but the 
 oppression did not subside. 
 
 " We must try the remedy," said Rauching. He 
 rolled out from a corner of the chamber a heavy 
 block of stone, about a man's height, bearing some 
 traces of sculpture. They had found it in the cavern ; 
 a mystic memorial of former inhabitants. He placed 
 it upright against the wall. A human head and a 
 bishop's mitre seemed to be represented on it. 
 Rauching now seized a thick, knotty stick, and pla- 
 cing another in the hands of the old man, began 
 thrashing away at the stone image and pronouncing 
 slowly and solemnly the following words like a litany. 
 
 " Luitward of Vercelli ! Traitor, adulterer, 7ieque 
 enijn ! Ravisher of nuns and foul rebel, neqite enwi ! " 
 
 Heavily fell the blows, then a faint smile lighted 
 up the old man's withered features. He arose and 
 also with feeble arms began striking away at it. 
 
 " It has been written, that a bishop must lead a 
 blameless life," said he in the same tone as Rauching, 
 — " take this for the peace with the Normans ! This 
 for the seduction of the Empress Richardis, tieque 
 etiitn I This for the, diet at Tribur, and this for the 
 election of Arnulf ! neqiie enim ! " 
 
 The cavern rang with the resounding blows ; im- 
 movable stood the stone image under the fierce 
 attacks. The old man became more and more re- 
 lieved ; he warmed himself by the old hatred which for 
 years had nourished his miserable life. 
 
 Ekkehard did not quite understand the meaning 
 of what he saw. There was something uncanny 
 about it. He took his leave.
 
 OLD MAN OF THE HEIDENHOHLE 21/ 
 
 " Have you been enjoying yourself with the old 
 fool up there ? " inquired the steward of Sernatingen 
 to him, when he brought out his saddled horse. 
 "Does he still believe, that he has lost a crown and 
 a kingdom ? Ha, ha ! " i^- 
 
 Ekkehard rode away. In the beech-wood the 
 young green of the coming Spring was burgeon- 
 ning. A young monk from the Reichenau was going 
 the same road. Defiant as the clash of arms floated 
 his song through the solitary wood : 
 
 Gallant yoicth, warlike braves^ hark ! your country calls. 
 Loud let your sofigsbe heard through the city walls I 
 Watch night and day in arms ! Swift the onset falls : 
 Snakclike around your homes hostile cunning crawls. 
 Bid the echoes then resound: eia vigila ! 
 From tower to tower rebound the shout : eia vigila ! 1^3 
 
 It was the song which the night-guards sang at 
 Mutina in Italy, while the Huns lay before the 
 Bishop's town. The monk himself had stood three 
 years before on guard at the gate of St. Geminianus, 
 and well knew the hissing of the Hunnic arrows ; 
 when a presentiment of new battles is in the air, the 
 old songs rise again in the minds of men.
 
 21 8 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS. 
 
 Ekkehard reported to her the result of his mission. 
 "If the enemy threatens, get ready. If he attacks, 
 beat him ; that is so simple that one really need not 
 ask anyone's advice. I believe that the habit of long 
 thinking and weighing chances has been sown by 
 the evil one like a weed in the German lands. He 
 who doubts is near falling ; and he who misses the 
 right moment, often digs his own grave. We will 
 get ready." 
 
 The exciting and dangerous position put the 
 duchess into high spirits ; just as trout delight in the 
 turbulent brook that rushes foaming over rocks and 
 ledges, while they sicken in a still lake. And example 
 of courage and energy given by one in power is 
 never lost. So they were all busy, making prepara- 
 tions for the reception of the enemy. 
 
 From the tower on the Hohentwiel waved the war- 
 flag, visible at a great distance ; ^^^ through forests 
 and fields unto the remotest farm-steads hidden in 
 lonely mountain-glens, was heard the war-trumpet, 
 calling together all those capable of bearing arms; 
 poverty alone freed any one from military service. 
 Every man possessing more than two acres of land
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 219 
 
 was obliged to place himself under arms and to pre- 
 sent himself at the first call. The Hohentwiel was 
 to be head-quarters ; nature herself had made it a 
 fortress. Messengers were flying through the Hegau ; 
 The land began to stir. Back among the dark fir- 
 woods the charcoal-burners had formed a corps. 
 
 One of them swung a heavy poker over his head, 
 as if about to strike down an enemy. " This will do," 
 said he, " I also will go with the rest." 
 
 At the doors of the priests and at those of the old 
 and sick the messengers also knocked. Those who 
 can not fight are to pray. The tidings penetrated 
 to all the shores of the lake ; even to St. Gall. 
 
 Ekkehard went to the peaceful island of Reichenau ; 
 the duchess required it of him. This mission would 
 have been distasteful to him if the reason for it 
 had been different. He carried an invitation to the 
 brotherhood to come to the Hohentwiel in case 
 of danger. 
 
 There, he found everything already in a state of 
 excitement. The brothers were promenading beside 
 the fountain in the monastery garden : it was a mild 
 spring day; but not one of them was seriously thinking 
 of enjoying the blue sky. They were talking of the 
 evil times and holding counsel. The idea of leav- 
 ing their quiet cells did not appear to please them 
 at all. 
 
 "St. Mark," one of them had said, "will protect 
 his disciples and strike the enemy with blindness 
 so that they will ride past ; or he will raise the 
 waves of the Bodensee to devour them, as the Red 
 Sea swallowed up the Egyptians."
 
 220 EKKEHARD 
 
 But old Simon Bardo replied : " This calculation 
 is not quite safe ; and when a place is not fortified 
 by towers and walls, a retreat remains the better 
 plan. Wherever a shilling's worth is still to be got, 
 no Hun will ride by ; if you put a gold-piece on the 
 grave of a dead one, his hand will grow out of the 
 earth to seize it." 
 
 " Holy Pirminius ! " lamented the gardener. " Who 
 will tend the fruit and vegetable garden, if we must 
 go?" 
 
 " And the chickens," said another, whose chief 
 delight was in the poultry-yard .? " Did we buy the 
 three dozen turkeys merely for the enemy ? " 
 
 " Supposing one were to write an urgent letter to 
 them," suggested a third. " They surely cannot be 
 such barbarians as to offend God and His saints." 
 
 Simon Bardo smiled. " Go and be a shepherd," said 
 he, compassionately, " and drink a decoction of camo- 
 mile, thou who wouldst write urgent letters to the 
 Huns ! Oh that I had brought my old chief-firework- 
 maker Kedrenos over the Alps with me ! Then we 
 should send out a light against the enemy, brighter 
 than the mild moonshine in the flower-garden which 
 called up such tender recollections of his sweet friend 
 in the soul of the late Abbot Walafrid.^^s There on 
 the point a couple of ships sunk, here at the har- 
 bor the same ; the whole shore commanded by our 
 long fire-tubes. Hei ! How they would be scattered 
 asunder when our missiles should fly through the 
 air like fiery dragons, pouring down a rain of burn- 
 ing naphtha ! But what does any one of you know 
 about the Greek fire ! ^^^ O Kedrenos, firework- 
 maker Kedrenos ! "
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 221 
 
 Ekkehard had entered the monastery. He asked 
 for the abbot. A serving-brother showed him up to 
 his apartments, but he was not there ; nor was he 
 to be found elsewhere. 
 
 " He is most Hkely to be in the armory," said a 
 monk passing by. So the serving brother led Ekke- 
 hard to the armory. It was situated high up in the 
 granary. Quantities of arms and harness were 
 heaped up ; with these the monastery was furnishing 
 its warriors for the arriere-ban. 
 
 Abbot Wazmann was standing there, but a cloud 
 of dust veiled him from the visitor's sight. He had 
 been having the armor taken down from the walls 
 and examined. Dust and rust bore witness to its hav- 
 ing rested for a long while. During the examination 
 the abbot had not forgotten to provide for himself. 
 His upper garment lay on the ground before him ; 
 and in its place a fair-haired monastery-pupil had 
 helped him don a coat of mail. He was now 
 stretching out his arms to see whether it fitted him 
 tightly and comfortably. 
 
 " Come nearer ! " he cried, on seeing Ekkehard. 
 " The reception is fitted to the times ! " 
 
 Ekkehard gave him the duchess's invitation. 
 
 " I myself should have sought for refuge on the 
 Hohentwiel," replied the abbot, "if you had not 
 come." He had seized a long sword, and made a 
 cut in the air with it, so that Ekkehard started back 
 a pace or two. From the sharp whizzing sound 
 which it produced, one could tell that it was not the 
 first sword that he had ever wielded. 
 
 " 'T is getting serious," said he. " At Altdorf, in
 
 222 EKKEHARD 
 
 the Schussenthal, the Huns have ah-eady effected 
 their entrance , we shall soon see the flames of 
 Lindau reflected n the lake. Won't you choose an 
 armor for yourself also ? That one yonder with the 
 shoulder-strap will take every blow or thrust as well 
 as the finest linen shirt ever spun by a virgin. 
 
 Ekkehard declined it. He went down, accom- 
 panied by the abbot, who was pleased with his coat 
 of mail. He threw his brown habit over it, and so, 
 like a true champion of the Lord,^^' he made his 
 appearance amongst the anxious brotherhood still 
 delaying in the garden. 
 
 " St. Mark appeared to me last night," cried the 
 abbot. " He pointed to the Hohentwiel. ' Thither 
 shall you bring my remains, that no heathen hands 
 may desecrate them,' he said. Be up and ready ! 
 By prayers and fasting your souls have fought to the 
 present moment with the Evil One : but now your 
 fists are to prove that ye are warriors indeed ; for 
 those who come are the sons of the Devil. Witches 
 and demons begot them in the Asiatic deserts. All 
 their doings are vile wickedness, and when their time 
 comes they will all go. back to hell ! " ^^^ 
 
 Now even the most careless of the brothers became 
 convinced that danger was near. A murmur of 
 approbation ran through the ranks : the cultivation 
 of science had not yet made them so effeminate but 
 that they looked on a warlike expedition as a very 
 desirable pastime. 
 
 Leaning against an apple-tree stood Rudimann 
 the cellarer, an ominous frown on his brow. Ekke- 
 hard caught sight of him, went up to him, and at-
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 223 
 
 tempted to embrace him, as a sign that common 
 calamity was wiping out the old quarrel ; but Rudi- 
 mann waved him off, saying : — 
 
 " I "know what you mean." 
 
 Out of the seam of his cowl he drew a coarse 
 thread and threw it to the ground, and placed his 
 foot on it. 
 
 " So long as a Hunnic horse is treading German 
 ground," said he, " all enmity shall be torn out of my 
 heart, as this thread is out of my garment ; ^^^ but 
 if we outlive the coming battles, we will take it up 
 again, as it were meet." 
 
 He turned round and descended into his cellar, 
 there to attend to important business. The large 
 tuns lay there under the arched vaults in due order, 
 as it were in battle array ; and not one of them 
 sounded hollow when struck. Rudimann had sum- 
 moned some masons, and now he was busy super- 
 intending the arrangement of a small antechamber, 
 which generally served for the keeping of fruit and 
 vegetables, so that it might seem to be the cloister- 
 cellar. Two small casks, and one larger one, were 
 put there. "If the enemy finds nothing, he be- 
 comes suspicious," said the cellarer to himself: 
 " and if the choice Sipplinger which I sacrifice only 
 does its duty, many a Hun will find some difficulty 
 in continuing his journey." 
 
 The masons had already got the square stones 
 ready to wall up the inner cellar door, when Rudi- 
 mann once more stepped in. From an old weather- 
 beaten tun he drew a small jug full, and emptied it 
 with a most melancholy expression.
 
 224 EKKEHARD 
 
 Then he folded his hands as in prayer. 
 
 " May God protect thee, red wine of INIeers- 
 burg ! " said he. 
 
 Tears stood in his eyes. . . . 
 
 In all parts of the monastery busy hands were at 
 work. In the armory they were distributing the 
 harness and arms. There were many heads and 
 few helmets. Then much of the leather-work was 
 in a dilapidated condition, and had to be repaired. 
 
 In the treasury the abbot was superintending 
 the packing up of precious articles and holy relics. 
 Many heavy boxes were thus filled. The golden 
 cross with the holy blood ; the white marble vase 
 which had once held the wine at the marriage of 
 Cana ; cofiins with the remains of martyrs; the 
 abbot's staff, the pyx, — all were carefully packed 
 up, and brought over to the ships. Some were also 
 carrying off the heavy translucent emerald ; twenty- 
 eight pounds it weighed ! 
 
 " You may leave the emerald behind,"' said the 
 abbot. 
 
 " The parting gift of the great Emperor Karl ? 
 The rarest jewel of the cathedral? Another such is 
 not to be found in the depths of the mountains ! " 
 exclaimed the serving brother. 
 
 " I know a glass-maker in A'enetia who can easily 
 make another, if the Huns should carry this one 
 away," ^^ carelessly repHed the abbot. So they put 
 the jewel back into the cupboard. 
 
 Before evening had set in, everything was ready 
 for the departure. The abbot commanded the 
 brothers to assemble in the courtyard. All ap- 
 peared, with the exception of one.
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 225 
 
 "Where is Heribald?" he asked. 
 
 Heribald was a pious brother whose ways had 
 many a time turned despondency ^^^ into hilarity. 
 In his infancy his nurse had let him fall on the 
 stone floor, and in consequence he had a weakness 
 of mind, a Kopfsiiuiieriuig^ — or softening of the 
 brain, — but he possessed a good heart, and took 
 as much delight in God's beautiful world as any 
 stronger-minded being. 
 
 So they went to look for Heribald. He was in 
 his cell. The yellow-brown monastery cat seemed 
 to have offended him in some way; he had fastened 
 round her body the cord which generally served him 
 as a girdle, and hung her up on a nail in the ceil- 
 ing. The poor old animal, thus suspended, hung in 
 the air, yelling and mewing pitifully; but he was 
 rocking her gently to and fro, and talking Latin to 
 her. 
 
 "Come, on Heribald! " called out his companions. 
 " We must leave the island." 
 
 " Let him fly who will," replied the imbecile. 
 " Heribald won't go away." 
 
 "Be good, Heribald, and follow us; the abbot 
 commands you." 
 
 Then Heribald pulled off his shoe, and held it out 
 to the brothers. 
 
 " Last year this shoe was torn," said he. " Then 
 Heribald went to the canierariiis : ' Give me my 
 yearly portion of leather,' said Heribald, 'that I may 
 make myself a new pair of shoes.' But the came- 
 rarius replied.: ' If thou didst not tread thy shoes 
 all awry, then they would not split,' and he refused 
 VOL. I. — 15
 
 226 EKKEHARD 
 
 the leather; and when Heribald complained of the 
 camcj-arius to the abbot, he said, ' A fool like thee 
 can well go barefoot.' Now Heribald has no decent 
 shoes to put on ; and he will not go among strangers 
 with torn ones." ^^^ . . . 
 
 Such sound reasons could not well be argued 
 away; so the brothers seized him to carry him off 
 by force ; but in the corridor Heribald broke away 
 from them and rushed, swift as the wind, down into 
 the church, and up the stairs that led to the belfry. 
 When he had reached the very top, he drew up the 
 small wooden ladder after him; there was no way 
 of getting at him. 
 
 They reported the matter to the abbot. " Leave 
 him behind," said he. " Children and fools are pro- 
 tected by a guardian angel of their own." 
 
 Two large barges lay waiting at the shore, to 
 receive the fugitives. They were strong, well-built 
 ships, furnished with oars and masts. In small 
 boats sailed the serving people, and whoever else 
 lived on the Reichenau, with all their goods and 
 chattels. It was a confused medley. 
 
 One bark, filled with maid-servants and com- 
 manded by Kerhildis the upper maid, had already 
 started off, — they did not themselves know where 
 they were bound for ; but this time fear was stronger 
 than their curiosity to see the mustaches of strange 
 warriors. 
 
 And now the brotherhood came down to the shore; 
 it was a strange sight. The majority, armed, were 
 chanting the litany, others carrying the coffin of St. 
 Mark ; the abbot, with Ekkehard, walking at the head
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 22/ 
 
 of the monastery pupils. Sorrowfully they looked 
 back for the last time toward the home where 
 they had spent so many years; then they went on 
 board. 
 
 •But as soon as they were fairly out on the lake, all 
 the bells began to peal. The weak-minded Heribald 
 was ringing a farewell greeting to them. Then he 
 appeared on the top of the cathedral tower. He 
 shouted, " Dominus vobisctim,'''' with a powerful 
 voice, and here and there some of the monks re- 
 sponded in the accustomed way: — 
 
 " Et cum spiritii iuo.''' 
 
 A keen breeze was curling the waves of the lake, 
 which had only lately thawed. Many large ice- 
 'blocks were still floating about, so that the ships 
 often had great difificulty in making their way through 
 them. 
 
 The monks who had charge of St. Mark's coffin 
 cowered down, — sometimes the waves dashed into 
 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 moonlight night the monks of the 
 Reichenau ascended the Hohentwiel. There every- 
 thing was in readiness for their reception. In the 
 castle chapel they deposited the coffin of their saint; 
 six of the brothers were ordered to stay beside it, 
 watching and praying.
 
 228 EKKEHARD 
 
 During the next days the courtyard was trans- 
 formed into a bustUng bivouac. Several hundred 
 armed vassals were already assembled, and rein- 
 forcements from the Reichenau brought ninety more 
 combatants. They were all zealously preparing for 
 the coming contest. Long before sunrise the ham- 
 mering of the blacksmiths awakened the sleepers. 
 They were making arrows and spearheads. Near 
 the fountain in the court stood the big grind-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 linden- 
 tree, covering the long boards destined for shields 
 with a strong wickerwork of willow branches. Over 
 this a tanned skin was nailed, and the shield was 
 complete. 
 
 Round a merry fire sat others, melting lead to 
 make sharp-pointed missiles for the slings. Ashen 
 bludgeons and clubs were 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 ever served in the arriere-ban rallied 
 round Simon Bardo, the Greek field-marshal. "A 
 man who wants to pass his old days in peace must 
 come to Germany," he had jestingly said to the 
 duchess; but the clatter of arms strengthened his 
 courage, like old Rhinewine, and put new vigor into 
 him. With untiring zeal he drilled those who were 
 inexperienced in the use of arms; the stone flags of 
 the courtyard resounded with the heavy tramp of the 
 monks who in closed ranks were learning the art 
 of a spear-attack.
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 229 
 
 " With you when once your blood is up one could 
 verily knock down walls," 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. Once 
 the spearmen heard a loud huzza at the other end of 
 the courtyard : the wild fellows had manufactured a 
 straw figure ; it wore a crown of owl's feathers, and 
 held 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. 
 
 " Etzel, the king of the Huns ! " cried the archers. 
 " Who can hit him right in the heart? " 
 
 " Make what sport you will," said Frau Hadwig, 
 who was looking down from her balcony, "but 
 though on an evil bridal night Death laid him low, 
 his spirit still lives on in the world ; even those who 
 come after us will have trouble enough to banish the 
 memory of him." 
 
 " If only they could shoot at him as well as they 
 are doing down there now ! " said Praxedis, as a tri- 
 umphant shout was heard from the courtyard. The 
 straw man tottered and fell ; an arrow had pierced 
 the heart. 
 
 Ekkehard came up to the hall. He had been 
 drilling with the others; his face was aglow; 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. 
 
 Frau Hadwig gazed at him with evident satis- 
 faction. He was no longer the timid teacher of 
 grammar. . . . HejDOwed low before the duchess.
 
 230 EKKEHARD 
 
 " Our brothers in the Lord from the Reichenau," 
 said he, "bid me tell you that a great thirst is be- 
 setting their ranks." 
 
 Frau Hadwig laughed. 
 
 " Have a tun of cool beer placed 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." 
 
 She pointed at the bustling life in the courtyard. 
 "Life, after all," she went on to say, "brings us 
 richer and more manifold pictures than all poets can 
 paint. You were hardly prepared for such a change 
 of things, were you ? " 
 
 But Ekkehard would allow nothing approaching 
 a slight to come near his beloved Vergilius. 
 
 " Allow me," said he, as he stood leaning on his 
 spear, " all that we now see you will find word for 
 word in the ^neid ; as if there was to be nothing 
 new under the sun. Would you not fancy that Ver- 
 gil stood here on this balcony, looking down on 
 yonder busy crowd, when he sang, at the beginning 
 of the war in Latium, — 
 
 Some are hollowing helmets, or weaviftg the u illowy rvattles 
 Round the boss of the shield ; while others with pliable silver 
 Decorate breastplates of bronze and inlay the flexible tassets. 
 Ploughshare and rcafing-hook here lie neglected ; here in the 
 
 furrow 
 Stands the plough unloved. The fathers' swords are retempered. 
 Now the trumpets resound for war ; through the land flies the 
 
 signal A^-^ 
 
 " That fits the situation fairly well," said Frau 
 Hadwig. " But can you also predict the issue of the
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 23 1 
 
 coming battles from 5^our epic," she was going to 
 ask ; but in times of such confusion 't is difficult to 
 talk about poetry. The steward had just come in to 
 report that all the meat was eaten up; should he kill 
 two more oxen. . . . 
 
 After a few days Simon Bardo's men were so 
 well drilled that he could let the duchess reviesv 
 them ; and it was time for them to make the most 
 of their time, for the night before they had been 
 alarmed. A bright red light illuminated the sky, 
 far across the lake. Like a fiery cloud the dread 
 sign hung there for several hours ; the conflagra- 
 tion was probably over in Helvetia. 
 
 The monks disputed about it. Some said that it 
 was a heavenly apparition, — a fiery star, sent as a 
 warning unto all Christendom. " There must be a 
 great fire in the Rhine valley," said others. One 
 brother, gifted with a keener nose, even claimed to 
 perceive the smell of smoke. It was long past mid- 
 night when the red light died out. 
 
 On the southern declivity of the mountain there 
 was a moderate-sized field ; the first spring flowers 
 were already blooming there, while deep snow still 
 lay in the bottom-lands of the valleys. This was to 
 be the place for the review. 
 
 High on her charger sat Frau Hadwig ; around her 
 clustered a number of well-armed knights who had 
 answered the summons, — the Barons of Randegg, of 
 Hoewen, and the gaunt Fridinger. The abbot of 
 Reichenau was likewise proudly sitting on his pal- 
 frey, — a well-mounted champion of the Lord.'^'^ 
 Herr Spazzo the chamberlain took great pains to
 
 2 32 EKKEHARD 
 
 equal him in carriage and movements, for his de- 
 meanor was highly aristocratic and knightly. Ekke- 
 hard was likewise expected to accompany the duchess, 
 and a steed had been led out for him ; but he de- 
 clined the lionor, so that he might not arouse envy in 
 the hearts of the other monks. 
 
 And now the outer castle gate slowly opened on its 
 heavy hinges, and out strode the troops, the archers 
 and the cross-bow men at the head. They marched 
 in closed ranks, to the sounds of enlivening music. 
 Audif ax, with solemn face, went with the horn-blowers 
 as bag-piper. Then Simon Bardo ordered a signal 
 to be given ; suddenly the ranks broke into motion, 
 and swarmed out like wild bees, and occupied every 
 bush and hedge. 
 
 Then came the cohort of monks, with firm step, in 
 helmets, and with armor under their cowls, shields 
 on their backs, with couched lances, — a redoubtable 
 force. High in the air waved tlieir flag, — a red cross 
 in a white field. They marched on as regularly as if 
 it had been for years their trade ; with strong men 
 mental discipline is an excellent preparation for the 
 warrior's life. Only^one in the left wing could not 
 keep step ; his lance protruded beyond the straight 
 line preserved by the others. 
 
 " It is not his fault," said Abbot Wazmann to the 
 duchess. "He copied a whole mass-book in six 
 weeks, so that the writer's cramp affected his fingers." 
 
 Ekkehard was marching in the right wing, and 
 when they passed the duchess, he caught a look from 
 the radiant eyes which could scarcely have been 
 intended for the whole corps.
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 233 
 
 Divided into three bodies followed the vassals and 
 the arriere-ban. They marched to the blast of huge 
 bull's-horns ; strange-looking armor made its appear- 
 ance, — many a weapon had already seen service under 
 the great Emperor Karl. Some of them were armed 
 with a heavy cudgel, and nothing more. 
 
 Meanwhile Herr Spazzo with his sharp eyes was 
 looking down into the valley. " 'T is well that we 
 are all together ; I believe there 's work to do yonder," 
 said he ; and he pointed down into the valley, where 
 the roofs of Hilzingen hamlet peeped out from behind 
 a hilly region. 
 
 A dark Hne was seen approaching. . . . Then 
 ■Simon Bardo ordered his troops to halt, and after 
 a searching look in that direction he said : " Those 
 are no Huns; they are not mounted." Nevertheless, 
 as a matter of greater precaution, he commanded his 
 archers to occupy the brow of the mountain. 
 
 But as the ranks of the strangers approached, the 
 garb of St. Benedict also became visible. A golden 
 cross, in lieu of a standard, towered above the lances. 
 Ky7'ie eleisoii^ rang their litany, as they drew up the 
 steep path. 
 
 " My brothers ! " exclaimed Ekkehard. Then the 
 Reichenau cohort broke ranks and ran down the 
 mountain with jubilant shouts ; and when they soon 
 met, there were joyful greetings and embraces. 
 
 To meet again in the hour of danger fills the heart 
 with delight. 
 
 Arm in arm with the Reichenauers, the stranger 
 guests, headed by their abbot, Cralo, now came up. 
 On a heavy cart in the rear-guard they brought the 
 blind Thieto.
 
 234 EKKEHARD 
 
 " May God bless you, most noble cousin," said the 
 Abbot Cralo, bowing his head before the duchess. 
 "Who would have thought, half a year ago, that I 
 should return your visit with the whole of the brother- 
 hood ! But the God of Israel says, ' Let my people 
 leave their home, so that they may remain faithful 
 unto me.' " 
 
 Frau Hadwig, touched, held out her hand to him. 
 
 " These are times of trial," said she. " Welcome ! " 
 
 Reinforced by the new-comers, the Hohentwiel 
 army betook itself back again behind the protecting 
 walls of the, castle. 
 
 Praxedis had descended into the courtyard. There 
 she stood under the linden-tree, gazing at the men 
 as they came in. Already those of St. Gall had all 
 assembled in the courtyard, but still she gazed 
 steadily at the gate as if some one else were to come. 
 But he whom her eyes sought was not among the 
 last who entered. 
 
 In the castle they were busy arranging quarters 
 for the new guests. The space was comparatively 
 scanty. In the great round tower there was an airy 
 hall ; in this they heaped up straw for a temporary 
 sleeping-room. 
 
 " If things go on in this way," grumbled the stew- 
 ard, who scarcely knew where his head was, " we 
 shall soon have the whole priesthood of Europe up 
 here on our crag." 
 
 Kitchen and cellar gave what they had. 
 
 In the hall downstairs sat monks and warriors 
 noisily taking their meal. Frau Hadwig had invited 
 into her own reception-room the two abbots, and
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 235 
 
 whoever, among her guests, was of noble birth. There 
 was much to be talked over and discussed, humming 
 and buzzing of questions and answers. 
 
 Then Abbot Cralo told them about the fate of his 
 monastery.^*'*' 
 
 " This time," he began, " the danger came on us 
 almost unawares. Scarcely had we spoken of the 
 Huns when the ground resounded under their 
 horses' hoofs. It was sharp work. The monastery 
 pupils I hastily sent over to the fortress of Wasser- 
 burg, Aristotle and Cicero will gather some dust ; 
 the boys might catch fish in the Bodensee, if they do 
 not find more serious work to do. The old teachers 
 fled with them across the water in good time. But 
 the rest of us had made ourselves a sort of strong- 
 hold, as a refuge. Where the Sitterbach rushes 
 through a narrow, fir-grown valley, we found an 
 excellent hiding-place, so sheltered that we thought 
 no sneaking heathen would ever find the road to it. 
 There we built ourselves a strong house, with towers 
 and walls, and consecrated it to the Holy Trinity, — 
 who I trust will protect it. 
 
 "It was not fairly finished ere the messengers 
 from the lake came, crying, ' Fly ! the Huns are here ! ' 
 Others came from the Rhine valley, and ' Fly ' was 
 again the word. The sky was red" from confla- 
 grations and bale-fires ; the air was filled with the 
 shrieks of people flying and the creaking of hurry- 
 ing cart-wheels. So we also set out. Gold and 
 jewels, St. Gallus' and St. Othmar's cofiins, all our 
 treasures, were first safely hidden ; the books the 
 boys carried off with them to the Wasserburg; not
 
 236 EKKEHARD 
 
 much thought was given to food and drink for us; 
 only some scanty provisions had been brought be- 
 forehand to our retreat in the forest. There we now 
 went in the utmost haste. It was only after we had 
 started that the brothers perceived that we had for- 
 gotten the bhnd Thieto and left him behind in his 
 cell ; but no one went back for him, as the ground 
 was burning under our feet. Thus we remained for 
 several days quietly hidden in our firwood castle. 
 Often at night we sprang to arms, fancying the enemy 
 were at the gate ; but it was onlv the rushing of the 
 Sitter, or the rustling of the wind in the tree-tops. 
 
 " One evening, however, a clear voice demanded 
 admittance, and in came Burkhard, the cloister 
 pupil, panic-stricken and dead tired. Out of friend- 
 ship for Romeias, the watchman at the gate, he 
 had remained behind ; we had not noticed it. He 
 brought evil tidings. The horror of what he had 
 gone through had turned some of the hairs on his 
 young head quite gray in a single night." 
 
 Abbot Cralo's voice began to tremble. He stopped 
 a moment and took a draught of wine. 
 
 " The Lord be merciful to all who have perished 
 in the Christian faith ! " said he with emotion. " His 
 light shine upon them ; may he let them rest in 
 peace ! " 
 
 " Amen," said the others. 
 
 "Whom do you mean.-*" asked the duchess. 
 Praxedis left her place and went behind her mistress's 
 chair; she stood breathlessly watching the narrator's 
 lips. 
 
 " Only when a man is dead and gone," continued
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 237 
 
 Cralo, taking up again the thread of his discourse, 
 "do those who remain 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 barred all the gates; hid all that was valuable, 
 and went his round on the walls ; Burkhard the 
 cloister pupil with him. Then he kept watch in his 
 tower-room, his arms by his side. Soon appeared a 
 horde of Huns on horseback, carefully approaching 
 the walls. Romeias blew his horn as usual, then 
 quickly ran to the other end of the courtyard and 
 blew the horn again there ; as if the monastery were 
 still occupied and well prepared. ' Now is the time to 
 depart,' said he to the pupil. He had fastened an old 
 withered nosegay to his helmet, Burkhard told us. 
 And then the two went over to the blind Thieto, who 
 was loath to leave his accustomed corner ; but they 
 placed him on two spears, and thus carried him away, 
 letting themselves out by the little back gate and 
 escaping up the Schwarzathal. 
 
 " Already the Huns had sprung from their horses, 
 and were climbing over the walls ; when they saw that 
 nothing stirred, they swarmed in like flies on a drop 
 of honey. But Romeias quietly walked on up the 
 hill with his hoary burden. 
 
 " ' No one shall say of the monastery 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 
 soon the Huns were on their track. Wild cries came 
 up the valley; — a bit farther, and the first arrows 
 were hissing through the air. So they reached the
 
 238 EKKEHARD 
 
 rock of the recluses; but here even Romeias was 
 surprised ; — as if nothing had happened, Wiborad's 
 hollow chanting fell upon their ears. In a heavenly- 
 vision her trial and death had been revealed to her, 
 and even her pious confessor Waldram 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 champion of the Lord, I will defend it with my 
 body,' ^^' said she ; and so she remained quite alone 
 in the wilderness, when all the others left it. 
 
 " Our forest castle was too far to be reached. 
 Romeias selected the most isolated hut ; climbing 
 up on the crag, he let the blind Thieto in by the 
 roof. He kissed the old man before leaving him ; 
 then he bade the cloister pupil fly, and save himself. 
 
 " ' Something may happen to me,' said he ; ' tell 
 those in the Waldburg to look after the blind one.' 
 
 " In vain Burkhard besought him, and quoted 
 Nisus and Euryalus, who had also fled into the dark- 
 ness of the woods before the greater numbers of the 
 Volscian horsemen. 
 
 " ' I should have to ^run too fast,' replied Romeias ; 
 * it would make me too warm, and give me pains in 
 the chest. I must speak a word or two with those 
 children of the Devil.' 
 
 " He went up to Wiborad's cell, and knocked at 
 the shutter. 
 
 "'Give me thy hand, old dragon,' he cried; * we 
 will make peace now,' and Wiborad stretched out her 
 withered right hand. 
 
 " Then Romeias rolled some huge stones into the
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 239 
 
 narrow path so as to block up the passage to the 
 Schwarzathal ; took his shield from his back, and 
 held his spears ready. With flying hair he stood 
 behind his wall, and blew once more on his big 
 bugle-horn, at first fierce and warlike, then softer 
 and sweeter, until an arrow flew right into the bend 
 of the horn, A shower of arrows covered him and 
 pitted his shield ; he shook them off. Now and then 
 one of the Huns climbed up the rocks to get at him, 
 but Romeias's spears fetched them down quickly. 
 The attack became fiercer, wild raged the battle ; 
 but, undaunted, Wiborad was still chanting her 
 psalm : — 
 
 • Destroy them in thine anger, O Lord. Destroy 
 thejn that they do no more exists so that the world 
 may know that God is reigning in Israel, even unto 
 the ends of the earth. Selah. . . . 
 
 "So far Burkhard had witnessed the fight; then 
 he turned and fled. We in the refuge were all very 
 much grieved, and that very night sent out a troop 
 to look after the blind Thieto. It was all still on 
 the hill of the recluses when they reached it. The 
 moon was shining on the bodies of the slain Huns, 
 and there the brothers found also . . ." 
 
 Here the recital was interrupted by loud sobs. 
 Praxedis leaned painfully on the back of the duch- 
 ess's chair, and was weeping bitterly. 
 
 ". . . There they found Romeias's dismembered 
 body," continued the abbot. "The enemy li*ad 
 hewn off and carried away his head. He lay on his 
 shield ; the faded flowers which had adorned his
 
 240 EKKEHARD 
 
 helmet tightly clutched in his hand. May God 
 reward him : he whose life is given for duty is surely 
 worthy to enter heaven. Vainly they knocked at 
 Wiborad's shutter; the tiles of her roof were broken. 
 So one of the brothers climbed up, and looked in: 
 before the little altar of her cell lay the recluse wel- 
 tering in her blood. Three sword wounds were 
 visible on her head; the Lord had deemed her 
 worthy to win a martyr's crown at the hands of the 
 heathen." 
 
 Those present were too much moved to speak. 
 Frau Had wig also was deeply touched. 
 
 " I have brought you the martyr's veil," said 
 Cralo, "consecrated by the blood of her wounds. 
 You might hang it up in the castle church. Only 
 Thieto the blind had remained unharmed. Undis- 
 covered by the enemy, he was soundly sleeping in 
 the little hut by the rock. 
 
 " ' I have been dreaming that an eternal peace had 
 come over the world,' said he to the brothers, when 
 they awoke him. 
 
 " But even in our remote Sitter valley we were not 
 to have peace much longer ; the Huns found their 
 way to us. There was a swarming and piping and 
 snorting such as the quiet forest had never heard 
 before. Our walls were firm, and our courage 
 strong ; but hungry people soon get tired of being 
 besieged. Day before yesterday our provisions 
 were eaten up ; when it grew dark we saw the pillars 
 of 'smoke rise from the burning of our monastery. 
 So we broke through the enemy, in the middle of 
 the niffht: the Lord was with us and our swords
 
 THE APPROACH OF THE HUNS 24 1 
 
 helped likewise. And so we have come to you 
 [the abbot bowed toward Frau Hadwig] . . . home- 
 less and orphaned, like birds whose nest has been 
 struck by lightning, and bringing nothing with us but 
 the tidings that the Huns, whom the Lord destroy, 
 are following on our heels." . . . 
 
 "The sooner they come, the better," defiantly 
 exclaimed the abbot of Reichenau, raising his 
 beaker. 
 
 *' Here 's to the arms of God's own champions," 
 said the duchess, ringing her glass against his. 
 
 " And revenge for the brave Romeias," said 
 Praxedis in a low voice and with tears in her eyes, 
 as her glass vibrated against the gaunt Fridinger's. 
 
 It was getting late. Wild songs and warlike 
 cries were still resounding in the hall on the first 
 floor. The young monk who had come to the Rei- 
 chenau from Mutina in Italy, had again struck up 
 his sentinel's song. 
 
 The opportunity for valiant deeds was not to be 
 long delayed. 
 
 VOL. I. — 16
 
 242 EKKEHARD 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HERIBALD AXD HIS GUESTS. 
 
 Ox the island of Reichenau it was silent and 
 lonely after the inhabitants of the monastery had 
 taken their departure. The weak-minded Heribald 
 was lord and master of the whole place ; he was much 
 pleased with his solitude. For hours he sat on the 
 shore, skipping fiat pebbles over the waves. When 
 they sank at once he scolded them. 
 
 With the poultry- in the yard he held many a dia- 
 logue ; he fed them regularly. 
 
 " If you are very good, and the brothers do not 
 return," he once said, " Heribald will preach you a 
 sermon." 
 
 In the monastery he found plenty of amusement: 
 — in one day of solitude a man can hatch a good 
 many useful ideas. 
 
 The camerarius had angered him by refusing to 
 give him the necessary shoe-leather: so Heribald 
 went up to the cell of the camerarius, smashed his 
 large stone water-jug, as well as his three flower-pots, 
 cut open the straw mattress on his bed, and filled it 
 up with the broken crockery ; then he lay down on it 
 to see how it would feel, and the fragments were hard 
 and sharp, so he smiled contentedly and betook 
 himself to Abbot Watzmann's apartments.
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 243 
 
 Against the abbot he also bore a grudge, as he 
 was indebted to him for many a sound whipping; 
 but he found everj-thing locked up and in excellent 
 order, so nothing was left to him but to break off 
 one of the legs of the cushioned easy-chair. He 
 cunningly put it back in its old place, as if nothing 
 had happened. 
 
 " That will break down nicely with him, when he 
 comes home and sits comfortably on it. ' Thou shalt 
 castigate the flesh,' sa3^s St. Benedict. But Heribald 
 has not broken off the leg of the chair. The Huns 
 have done it." 
 
 Prayer, devotion, and psalm-singing he performed, 
 as the rules of the order prescribed. The seven 
 daily times for prayer the solitary strictly adhered 
 to, as if he might be punished for missing them ; 
 even the midnight vigil he descended into the clois- 
 ter church to hold. 
 
 At the very hour when his brothers were carousing 
 in the hall of the ducal castle with the monks of St. 
 Gall, Heribald was standing in the choir. The un- 
 canny shadows of the night enveloped the aisle, dimly 
 flickered the everlasting lamp ; but fearlessly, and with 
 a clear voice, Heribald intoned the introductory verse : 
 
 Lord^ I cry tinto thee : inake haste unto Die ; give 
 ear unto my voice when I cry mito thee. And he 
 sang the third psalm, the one which David sang 
 when he fled before Absalom his son. 
 
 When he reached the place where the antiphonal 
 response usually came, according to custom, he 
 stopped and waited for the other choir to take it up, 
 but everything remained silent and still ; then Heri-
 
 244 EKKEHARD 
 
 bald passed his hand over his forehead. " Ah," said 
 he, '• I forgot ! They are all gone, and Heribald is 
 alone." . . . 
 
 Then as he was about to sing the ninety-fourth 
 psalm, as the nightly service required, the everlast- 
 ing lamp went out, — a bat flew into it. Outside, 
 storm and rain. Heavy drops fell on the roof of the 
 church, and beat against the windows. A strange 
 feeling came over Heribald. 
 
 " Holy Benedict," exclaimed he, " be pleased to 
 see that it is not Heribald's fault that the antiphon 
 was not sung." 
 
 He walked through the darkness out of the choir. 
 A shrill wind whistled through a little window of the 
 crypt under the high altar, producing a howling sound; 
 as Heribald advanced, a draught caught his garment. 
 
 " Art thou come back, thou hellish tempter.^ " said 
 he. " Must I fight thee once more ? " ^^^ 
 
 Unhesitatingly he stepped back to the altar, and 
 seized a wooden crucifix which the abbot had not 
 had taken away, 
 
 " In the name of the Holy Trinity, come on, spec- 
 tre of Satan ! Heribald awaits thee ! " 
 
 With undaunted courage he thus stood on the 
 altar-steps ; the wind continued to howl ; the Devil 
 did not appear, . , . 
 
 " He had enough of it the last time," smilingly 
 said the idiot. About a year before, the Evil One had 
 appeared to him in the shape of a big dog, barking 
 furiously at him ; but Heribald had resisted him with 
 a pole, and had plied him with such doughty blows 
 that the pole broke, . , .
 
 HE RIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 245 
 
 Then Heribald screamed out a number of choice 
 invectives in the direction where the wind was moan- 
 ing ; and when even after this nothing came to tempt 
 him, he replaced the crucifix on the altar, bent his 
 knees before it, and went back to his cell murmuring 
 the Kyrie eleison. There he slept the sleep of the 
 just until late in the morning. 
 
 The sun was high in the heavens, as Heribald 
 complacently walked up and down before the mon- 
 astery. Since the time when he had enjoyed an 
 occasional holiday at school, he had seldom had an 
 opportunity of idling. " Idleness is the soul's worst 
 enemy," St. Benedict had said, and in consequence 
 strictly ordered his disciples to fill up with the work 
 of their hands the time which was not claimed by 
 devotional tasks. 
 
 Heribald knew not art or handicraft, and so they 
 employed him in splitting wood and in rendering 
 similar useful services ; but now he paced up and 
 down with folded arms before the heaped-up logs of 
 wood and looked up smilingly at one of the cloister 
 windows. 
 
 " Why don't you come down, Father Rudimann," 
 he cried, " and make Heribald cut the wood ? You 
 used to keep such excellent watch over the brothers ; 
 and so often called Heribald a useless servant of the 
 Lord, when he was cloud-gazing instead of handling 
 the axe. Why don't you attend to your duty ? " 
 
 Not even an echo gave answer to the half-witted 
 creature's query ; then he drew out some of the under 
 logs, noisily the whole pile rolled down. " Tum- 
 ble if you like," continued he in his soliloquy, " Her-
 
 246 EKKEHARD 
 
 ibald is having a holiday, and is not going to pile 
 you up again. The abbot has run away, and the 
 brothers have run away also ; so it serves them right, 
 if everything tumbles down." 
 
 After this laudable enterprise, Heribald directed 
 his steps to the monastery garden. Another project 
 now occupied his mind. He intended to cut a few 
 delicate heads of lettuce for his dinner, and to dress 
 them a good deal better than they would ever have 
 been done if the father head cook had been pres- 
 ent. Temptingly the vision was just rising before 
 him, how he would not spare the oil-jug, and would 
 pitilessly cut to pieces some of the biggest onions, 
 when a cloud of dust whirled up on the white sandy 
 shore opposite ; the forms of horses and riders be- 
 came visible. . . . 
 
 " Are you there, already ? " said the monk, and he 
 made the sign of the cross ; his lips mumbled a 
 hasty prayer, but his face quickly resumed its cus- 
 tomary smile of contentment. 
 
 " Strange wanderers and pilgrims are to meet 
 with a Christian reception at the gate of any house 
 of the Lord," ^^^ he ^ murmured. '• I will receive 
 them." 
 
 A new idea now crossed his brain ; he passed his 
 hand over his forehead. 
 
 " Hav^e I not studied the history of the ancients 
 in the cloister school, and learned how the Roman 
 senators received the invading Gauls ? — Wrapped 
 in their mantles, the ivory sceptre in their hands, the 
 old graybeards sat in their chairs, without winking, 
 like bronze idols. Not for nothinsf is the Latin
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 247 
 
 teacher going to tell us that was a most worthy 
 reception. Heribald can do the same ! " . . . 
 
 A mild imbecility may now and then be an envi- 
 able dower in life. What appears black to others, 
 seems to the half-witted as blue or green; his path 
 may be zig-zag but he does not notice the serpents 
 hidden in the grass ; and the abysses into which the 
 wise man inevitably falls, he stumbles over, without 
 a suspicion of danger. . . . 
 
 A curule chair not being just then in the monas- 
 tery, Heribald pushed a huge oak log toward the 
 gate which led into the courtyard. " For what end 
 have we studied secular history if we cannot take 
 counsel by it .'' " said he, and seated himself quietly 
 on his block, in expectation of what was to come. 
 
 Opposite, on the near shore, a troop of horsemen 
 liad stopped. With their reins slung round their 
 arms, and their arrows ready on their bowstrings, 
 they had gone on ahead, — the scouts of the Hunnish 
 horde. When no ambuscade was discovered be- 
 hind the willows bordering the lake, they stopped 
 a while to rest their horses. Then the arrows were 
 put back into their quivers, the crooked sabres 
 taken between the teeth, and pressing the spurs into 
 the horses' sides, they went into the lake. Quickly 
 the horses crossed the blue waves. Now the fore- 
 most had touched the land, and sprang from his 
 saddle, and shook himself three times, like a poodle 
 coming out of a cold bath ! With piercing, triumph- 
 ant shouts they approached the silent Reichenau. 
 
 Like an image of stone sat Heribald, gazing un- 
 dauntedly at the strange figures. Never as yet had
 
 248 EKKEHARD 
 
 he passed a sleepless night musing over the perfec- 
 tion of human beauty ; but the faces which now met 
 his view struck him as being so very ugly that he 
 could not suppress a long-drawn. " Have mercy upon 
 us, O Lord ! '' 
 
 With crooked backs the strange guests sat in 
 their saddles. Their dress was the skin of wild 
 beasts; their bodies lean and small; their skulls 
 square-shaped ; black shaggy hair hung down in 
 wild disorder ; and their unshapely yellow faces 
 glistened as if they had been anointed with tallow. 
 One of the foremost had of his own accord enlarged 
 his coarse-lipped mouth considerably, slitting it out 
 toward the ears ; from their small, deep-set eyes they 
 looked out suspiciously at the world. 
 
 " To make a Hun, one need only give a square 
 shape to a lump of clay, stick on a smaller lump for 
 a nose, and drive in the chin," Heribald was just 
 thinking, when they stood before him. He did not 
 understand their hissing language, and smiled com- 
 placently, as if the whole gang had no concern for 
 him. 
 
 For a while they stared in astonishment at the 
 half-witted fellow, as professional critics do at a 
 new poet, when they are as yet undecided in what 
 pigeon-hole of ready-made judgments they are to 
 put him. At last one of them caught sight of the 
 bald spot on Heribald's pate, and pointed ait it with 
 his crooked sabre. They raised a sneering laugh ; 
 one seized his bow and arrow to aim at the monk. 
 But now Heribald's patience had come to an end ; 
 a feeling of Allemannic pride came over him as he 
 confronted this rabble.
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 249 
 
 " By St. Benedict's tonsure," he cried, leaping to 
 his feet, " no heathenish dog shall mock at the 
 crown of my head ! " 
 
 He snatched the reins of one of the foremost 
 riders, tore away his crooked sabre, and was just 
 going to assume an aggressive attitude, when, 
 quicker than lightning, one of the Huns threw a 
 noose over his head and pulled him down. Then 
 they leaped on him, tied his hands to his back, and 
 were already raising their death-bringing arms, when 
 a distant rumble and tumult was heard, like the 
 approach of a mighty army. This drew their atten- 
 tion from the idiot. They threw him like a sack 
 against his oak-trunk, and galloped off down to the 
 water's edge. 
 
 A great cavalcade of the Hunnic forces had now 
 arrived on the opposite shore. The vanguard, by 
 a shrill v/histle, gave the signal that all was safe. 
 At one of the extremities of the island, overgrown 
 with reeds, they had discovered a ford, which could 
 be crossed on horseback with dry feet. This they 
 showed to their comrades ; many hundred horsemen 
 of them now swarmed over like hornets. 
 
 Their united forces had availed nothing against 
 the walls of Augsburg and the bishop's prayers ; '^'^^ 
 so, in hordes, they were now ravaging the land. 
 
 In face, figure, and manner of sitting on horse- 
 back they were all alike, for with uncultivated races 
 the features are as if cast in one mould, indicating 
 that the vocation of the individual lies in conforming 
 itself to the mass, instead of contrasting with it. 
 
 In the orchards and gardens where the monks
 
 2 50 EKKEHARD 
 
 used to walk back and forth reciting their breviaries, 
 the strange Hunnic arms now glistened for the first 
 time. Winding in a serpentine line came the mounted 
 train along the narrow path from the mainland ; a 
 wild din of music, like the clanging of cymbals and 
 the cry of violins, accompanied them ; but the sounds 
 were shrill and sharp as vinegar, for the ears of the 
 Huns were large, but not sensitive, and only those 
 who were unfit for cavalrj- service were allowed to 
 cultivate music. 
 
 High over their heads floated the standard, with 
 the green cat in a red field ; around it rode some of 
 the chieftains, Ellak and Hornebog towering above 
 the rest. 
 
 Ellak had a straight, unhunnic nose ; a Circassian 
 was his mother, and to her he was indebted for his 
 pale, intelligent face and penetrating eyes. He rep- 
 resented the ruling intellect of the mass. It was 
 his deep-rooted conviction that the old world must 
 be ploughed afresh with fire and sword, and that it 
 was better to be ploughman than manure. 
 
 Hornebog, lean and lank, wore his long black hair 
 twisted into two solitary curls, one at each side of 
 his face. Above towered the glittering helmet, 
 adorned with two widespread eagles' wings ; he was 
 the very prototype of Hunnic horsemanship. To 
 him the saddle served as home, tent, and palace. He 
 shot the bird on the wing, and with his crooked sabre 
 could sever the head of an enemy from its trunk 
 while galloping past. From his holster hung the 
 six-corded whip, a significant symbol of executive 
 'er.
 
 HE RIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 25 I 
 
 chieftains hung beautifully embroidered altar-cloths, 
 as well as chasubles, a living witness that they had 
 already paid visits to other monasteries. Their 
 booty was transported in many wagons ; a great 
 rabble of followers closed the train. 
 
 In a cart drawn by mules, amongst copper camp- 
 kettles and other kitchen-utensils, sat an old wrinkled 
 woman. She was shading her eyes with her hand, 
 and looking toward the sun; in that direction rose 
 the mountain-peaks of the Hegau. She knew them 
 well ; the old hag was the Forest woman. Banished 
 by Ekkehard, she had departed for foreign lands ; 
 revenge was her first thought when she awoke in the 
 morning, and her last as she fell asleep in the even- 
 ing. Thus she came as far as Augsburg. At the 
 foot of the mountain on which the wooden temple 
 of the Suabian goddess Zisa^"^! had once stood, the 
 camp-fires of the Huns were burning ; with them she 
 remained. 
 
 On a magnificent steed, by the side of the old 
 Forest woman, rode a young maiden full of the 
 unbounded spirits caused by a healthy out-of-doors 
 life. Under her little short nose there was a seduc- 
 tive pair of red lips; her eyes were sparkling; her 
 hair hung down in a long tossing braid, inter- 
 woven with a red ribbon which floated in the air like 
 the pennant of a ship. Her skirts were looped up. 
 Over her loose bodice hung bow and quiver, and thus 
 she managed her horse, — a Hunnic Artemis. 
 
 This was Erica, the Flower-of-the-heath. She was 
 not of Hunnic origin. She had been picked up as
 
 252 EKKEHARD 
 
 an abandoned child by some horsemen on the steppes 
 of Pannonia, and had accompanied the Huns, and 
 grown up, hardly knowing how. Those whom she 
 liked, she caressed ; those who displeased her, she 
 bit in the arm. 
 
 Botund, the old Hunnic chieftain, had loved her. 
 Irkund the young one killed Botund because of the 
 Flower-of-the-heath. But when Irkund wanted to 
 enjoy her love, Zobolsu came along, and with his 
 sharp lance did him the same service without his 
 asking for it. Thus Erica's fate had been varied, 
 — new ways ! new countries ! new loves ! — and she 
 had become part and parcel of the horde, as if she 
 were its good spirit, and she was held in superstitious 
 veneration. 
 
 " So long as the Flower. of-the-heath blooms in our 
 ranks, we shall conquer the world," said the Huns ; 
 " Forward ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, poor Heribald was still lying bound at 
 the monastery gate. His meditations were mel- 
 ancholy. A big gad-fly was buzzing round his head. 
 He could not drive it away with his hands fastened 
 behind his back. 
 
 " Heribald has behaved with dignity," thought he. 
 " Like one of the old Romans he sat at the gate to 
 receive the enemy; and now he is lying bound on the 
 stones, and the gad-fly sits with impunity on his nose. 
 That is the reward of dignified behavior. Heribald 
 will never again be dignified! Amongst hedgedogs, 
 dignity is a very superfluous thing." 
 
 Like a mountain-torrent when the flood-sfate has
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 253 
 
 been raised, the Hunnic tide was now streaming into 
 the cloister-yard. 
 
 The good Heribald began to feel really uncom- 
 fortable. 
 
 " Oh, Camerarius," he continued in his meditation, 
 " even if thou shouldst refuse me, the next time, shirt 
 and habit, as well as shoe-leather, I would fly, never- 
 theless, a naked man ! " 
 
 Some of the van reported to Ellak how they had 
 found the solitary monk. He made a sign for them 
 to bring the prisoner up before him ; they loosened his 
 cords, set him on his feet in the courtyard, and with 
 heavy blows drove him toward their leader. Slowly 
 marched the poor wretch, emitting grunts of indig- 
 nation. 
 
 An unspeakably satirical smile played round the 
 Hunnic chieftain's lips when the idiot at last stood 
 before him. Negligently dropping the reins on the 
 horse's neck, he turned round. 
 
 " See what a representative of German art and 
 science looks like," he said, addressing Erica. 
 
 On his numerous piratical expeditions, Ellak 
 had acquired a slight knowledge of the German 
 language. 
 
 "Where are the inhabitants of the island.?" asked 
 he in a commanding voice. 
 
 Heribald pointed to the distant Hegau. 
 
 "Armed?" 
 
 " The servants of God are always armed ; the Lord 
 is their shield and sword." 
 
 " Well said," laughed the Hun. " Why didst thou 
 remain behind ? "
 
 254 EKKEHARD 
 
 Heribald became embarrassed. He had too much 
 pride to betray the true reason : that is to say, his 
 torn shoes. " Heribald," he replied, "is curious, and 
 wanted to see what the sons of the Devil are like." 
 
 Ellak translated the monk's polite speech to his 
 companions, who struck up a loud guffaw. 
 
 "You need not laugh," cried Heribald, angrily. 
 " We know very well what you are ! Abbot Waz- 
 mann has told us." 
 
 " I shall have thee killed," said Ellak, carelessly. 
 
 " That will only serve me right," returned Heri- 
 bald. " Why did I not escape with the others ? " 
 
 Ellak cast a searching look at the queer fellow, 
 and another idea struck him. He beckoned to the 
 standard-bearer, who approached, swinging in the air 
 his flag with the green cat. 
 
 This was the cat which had once appeared to King 
 Etzel in his youth. In a dreamy mood, he was sit- 
 ting in his uncle Rugila's tent; he was melancholy, 
 and was deliberating whether he had not better be- 
 come a Christian, and serve God and science ; just 
 then the cat came in. Among Rugila's treasures 
 she had found the golden imperial globe which had 
 made part of the booty at Byzantium ; this she held 
 in her paws and played with it and rolled it back 
 and forth. And an inward voice said to Etzel : — 
 
 " Thou shalt not become a monk, but thou shalt 
 play with the round earth, as the cat plays with that 
 golden bawble." 
 
 Then he became aware that Kutka, the God of 
 the Huns, had appeared to him, and so he bran- 
 dished his sword toward the four quarters of the
 
 HER IB A LD AND HIS GUESTS 255 
 
 world, let his finger-nails grow, and became what he 
 was destined to become, Attila, king of the Huns, 
 the scourge of God ! . . . 
 
 " Kneel down, miserable monk," cried Ellak from 
 his horse, " and worship him whom thou seest 
 painted on this flag ! " 
 
 But Heribald stood immovable. 
 
 " I don't know him," said he, with a hollow laugh. 
 
 " 'T is the God of the Huns ! " angrily cried the 
 chieftain. " Down on thy knees, cowlbearer, or " . . . 
 He pointed to his crooked sword. 
 
 Heribald laughed once more, and, putting his fore- 
 finger to his forehead, said : — 
 
 " If you think that Heribald is so easily imposed 
 upon, you are vastly mistaken. It is written : when 
 God created heaven and earth, and darkness was 
 upon the face of the deep, he said : ' Let there be 
 light ! ' If God were a cat, he would not have 
 said : ' Let there be light ! ' Heribald will not kneel 
 down . . ." 
 
 A Hunnic rider stealthily approached, pulled the 
 monk's garment, and whispered in excellent Suabian 
 in his ear : — 
 
 " Friend, I would kneel down, if I were in your 
 place. They are dangerous people." 
 
 The Warner's real name was Sneweliri, and his 
 birthplace was Ellwangen in the Riesgau ; by birth 
 he was a genuine Suabian, but in the course of time 
 he had become a Hun, and done well by it. And he 
 spoke with a peculiar windy tone in his voice, for 
 he had lost four of his front teeth, besides several 
 molars ; and this was the real reason why he was to 
 be found among the Huns.
 
 256 EKKEHARD 
 
 In his younger days, as it happened, when he was 
 still earning a peaceful livelihood at home as cart- 
 driver of the little Salvator monastery, he had been 
 sent with a strong convoy, under imperial protec- 
 tion, with a cart-load of bright-colored Neckar-wine, 
 north to the great market at Magdeburg.^"'^ To 
 that town resorted the priests of the heathenish 
 Pomeranians and Wends, to buy their libation wine ; 
 and Snewelin made an excellent bargain when he 
 sold his wine to the white-bearded chief priest of 
 the three-headed God Triglaf,^"^ for the great temple 
 at Stettin. 
 
 But afterwards he remained sitting over the wine 
 with the white-bearded heathen, who enjoyed the 
 Suabian nectar and became enthusiastic and began 
 to praise his native land and said that the world 
 was infinitely more advanced in their parts, between 
 the Oder and the Spree. And he tried to convert 
 Snewelin to the w^orship of Triglaf the three-headed, 
 and of the black and white Sun-god Radegast, and 
 of Radomysl, the Goddess of joyous thoughts ; 
 but this was rather too much for the man of 
 Ellwangen. 
 
 " You are an abominable Wendish swindler,'' 
 he exclaimed, and upset the wine-table, and flew 
 at him, like the young hero Siegfried when he 
 attacked the wild, long-bearded dwarf Alberich ; 
 he had a hand-to-hand contest with him, and at 
 one strong tug pulled out the half of his gray 
 beard ! But his antagonist called on Triglaf the 
 three-headed to help him, dealt him a blow on 
 the jaw with his iron-mounted staff, which forever
 
 HE RIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 257 
 
 destroyed the beauty of his teeth ; and before the 
 toothless Suabian cart-driver had recovered from 
 the blow, his white-bearded antagonist had taken his 
 departure, so that he could not wreak his revenge on 
 him. 
 
 But when Snewelin walked out of the gates of 
 Magdeburg, he shook his fist northwards, and 
 said : — 
 
 " We two shall meet again, some day ! " 
 At his home he was greatly ridiculed on account of 
 his lost teeth ; so, in sheer spite, he went amongst the 
 Huns, hoping that when these should ride north- 
 wards, he would be able to settle a heavy ac- 
 count with the three-headed Triglaf and all his 
 worshippers. . . . 
 
 Heribald heeded not the curious horseman. The 
 Forest woman had got down from her cart, and ap- 
 proached Ellak. With a grimace she looked at the 
 monk. 
 
 " I have read in the stars," she cried, " that evil 
 threatens us at the hands of bald-shaven men. To 
 prevent the coming danger, you ought to hang up 
 this miserable creature before the monastery gate, 
 with his face turned toward yon mountains ! " 
 
 " Hang him up," shouted many in the crowd, the 
 old woman's pantomime having been understood. 
 
 Ellak had once more turned toward Erica. 
 
 "And so this monster has principles," said he, 
 scornfully. " It would save his life, and yet he 
 refuses to bend his knees. Shall we have him 
 hanged, Flower-of-the-heath ? " 
 VOL. I. — 17
 
 258 EKKEHARD 
 
 Heribald's life hung on a slender thread. Round 
 about he saw sinister faces : his courage began to 
 fail him, he was ready to weep ; but in the hour of 
 danger, even the most foolish are often guided by a 
 happy instinct. Like a star shone Erica's rosy face 
 before him, and with timid steps he sprang to her 
 through the throng. To kneel before her was not 
 such a difficult task for him ; her sweet looks inspired 
 him with confidence. With out-stretched arms he 
 implored her protection. 
 
 " There ! " cried the Flower-of-the-heath, " the man 
 of the island is not so foolish as he looks. He pre- 
 fers kneeling to Erica, instead of the green and red 
 flag." 
 
 She smiled graciously on the pitiful suppliant, 
 leaped from her saddle, and patted him as if he were 
 some half-wild animal. 
 
 " Don't be afraid,*' said she ; " thou shalt live, poor 
 old black-coat! " and Heribald read in her eyes that 
 she meant what she said. He pointed to the Forest 
 woman, who had frightened him most. Erica shook 
 her head : " she shall not harm thee." 
 
 Then Heribald ran joyously to the wall : lilacs and 
 wild roses were already blooming there ; hastily he 
 tore off some of their branches, and presented them 
 to the Hunnic maiden. 
 
 Loud shouts of delight rang through the monastery 
 yard.i"* 
 
 '- Hail to the Flcnver-of-the-heath," cried they all, 
 clashing their arms together. 
 
 " Shout with them," whispered the man from Ell- 
 wansren into Heribald's ear. So he also raised his
 
 HE RIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 259 
 
 voice and cried a hoarse " hurrah ! " Tears stood in 
 his eyes. 
 
 The Huns unsaddled their horses. As a pack of 
 hounds, at evening, after the chase is over, wait for 
 the moment when the entrails of the deer are thrown 
 to them as their portion, — here one pulls at the cord 
 that restrains him, there another is barking fiercely 
 with impatience, — so stood the Huns before the 
 monastery. At last Ellak gave the signal that the 
 pillage might begin. In wild disorder they dashed 
 along the corridors, up the staircase, into the church. 
 Confused cries resounded — of expected booty and 
 disappointed hopes. The cells of the brotherhood 
 were searched, but nothing was found except the 
 scanty furniture. 
 
 " Show us the treasury," said they to Heribald, 
 who did so willingly ; he knew that whatever was the 
 most precious had been taken away. Only plated 
 candlesticks and the big emerald of colored glass 
 were still there. 
 
 " Miserable monastery ! The beggars ! " cried 
 one, and with his mailed boot he stamped on the 
 false jewel, so that a great crack shot through it. 
 They rewarded Heribald with heavy blows, so he 
 stole sorrowfully away. 
 
 In the cross-passage Snewelin met him. 
 
 "Friend," he cried, "I am an old wine-carrier; 
 tell me where is your cellar ? " 
 
 Heribald led him down, and chuckled contentedly 
 when he saw that the chief entrance had been walled 
 up. With a knowing look he winked at the fresh 
 lime, as if to say that he well knew its secret.
 
 260 EKKEHARD 
 
 The man of Ellwangen without much ado cut off 
 the seals on one of the tuns, tapped it, and filled his 
 helmet. It was a long, long draught that he took. 
 
 "O Hahnenkamm and Heidenheim ! " * exclaimed 
 he, shivering as with the ague, " for this beverage I 
 verily need not have joined the Huns ! " 
 
 He ordered his companions to carry up the butts, 
 but Heribald stepped anxiously forwards and pulled 
 one of the desecrators by his gown : " Allow me, good 
 man," said he, in pathetic accents, " but what am I 
 to drink when you are gone away ? " ^'^^ 
 
 Snewelin laughingly reported the monk's anxiety 
 to the others. 
 
 " The fool must have something," they said, put- 
 ting back the smallest tun unopened. Such kindness 
 touched Heribald, and he shook hands with them. 
 
 Out in the courtyard arose a wild din. Some 
 had been searching the church, and had also lifted 
 a grave-stone, from under which a bleached skull 
 grinned at them out of its dark cowl. This fright- 
 ened even the Huns back. Two of the gang 
 mounted the church-tower, the spire of which was 
 adorned with a gilt weathercock, according to cus- 
 tom. Whether they took it to be the protecting God 
 of the monastery, or imagined it to be real gold, they 
 climbed up the roof of the tower, and audaciously 
 sitting there, tried to bring the cock down with their 
 lances. 
 
 Then a sudden giddiness came over them. One 
 let his raised arm sink, — a false step — aery; and 
 down he fell, the other after him. With broken 
 necks they lay in the cloister-yard. ^'^^ 
 
 * Notoriously sour, bad wines.
 
 HE RIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 26 1 
 
 " A bad omen," said Ellak to himself. 
 
 The Huns uttered a howl, but a few moments later 
 the accident was entirely forgotten. The sword had 
 already snatched away so many of their companions 
 — what mattered two more or less ? 
 
 The bodies were carried into the cloister garden. 
 With the logs which Heribald had upset in the early 
 morning, a funeral-pile was erected ; the books left 
 in the libraries had been thrown down into the court ; 
 these were brought as kindling, and were used in 
 filling up the gaps between the logs. 
 
 Ellak and Hornebog were walking together through 
 the ranks. Squeezed in between the logs sadly looked 
 a neatly-written manuscript ; the shining golden ini- 
 tials glittered on the JDroken pages. Hornebog, draw- 
 ing his crooked sword, pierced the parchment with 
 it, and held it out to his companion, stuck on the 
 point of the blade. 
 
 " What do these hooks and chickens' feet mean, 
 brother ? " asked he. 
 
 Ellak took the punctured book, and glanced over 
 some of its pages. He also knew Latin, 
 
 " Western wisdom," replied he. " A man named 
 Boethius wrote it, and there are many fine things in 
 it about the comfort of Philosophy." 
 
 " Phi — lo — so — phy," slowly repeated Hornebog, 
 " what kind of comfort is that, brother? " 
 
 "It does not mean a pretty woman, nor yet fire- 
 water, either," was Ellak's reply. " It is difficult 
 to describe it in Hunnish ... If a man does not 
 know why he is in the world, and stands on his 
 head to find out the reason, that is about what they
 
 262 EKKEHARD 
 
 call Philosophy in these western lands. He who 
 comforted himself with it in his water-tower at 
 Pavia was after all beaten to death on that very 
 account." . . . 
 
 " It served him right ! " exclaimed Hornebog. 
 *' He who holds a sword in his hand, and has a horse 
 between his thighs, knows why he is in the world ; 
 and if we did not know the reason better than those 
 who scratch such hooks on asses' skins, then they 
 would be on our heels at the Danube, and we should 
 not be watering our horses in the Suabian sea." 
 
 " Don't you know that it is lucky that such 
 trash is made ? " continued Ellak, throwing back the 
 Boethius on the funeral-pile. 
 " Why so?" asked Hornebogj 
 " Because the hand which guides the pen is never 
 fit to wield the sword so as to make a good gash in 
 the flesh; and when the nonsense which one single 
 head hatched is once written down, then at least a 
 hundred others will muddle their brains with it. A 
 hundred blockheads more make a hundred soldiers 
 less, which is clearly enough our advantage, when- 
 ever we choose to make an invasion. So long as 
 they in the West write books and hold synods my 
 children may safely carry their camp forward! 
 that 's what the great Etzel himself said." 
 
 " Praised be the great Etzel ! " said Hornebog, 
 reverently. 
 
 Then a voice cried, '.' Let the dead rest!" 
 With dancing steps Erica came toward the two 
 chieftains. She had examined the monastery booty; 
 an altar-cloth of red silk found grace in her eyes, and
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 263 
 
 she put it on like a mantle, — the corners lightly 
 thrown back over her shoulders. 
 
 "How do you like me so?" she asked, turning 
 her little head complacently about. 
 
 " The Flower-of-the-heath requires no finery of 
 Suabian idolaters to please us," sternly replied 
 Ellak. 
 
 Then she jumped up at him, stroked his lank 
 black hair, and called out : — 
 
 " Come, the meal is ready." 
 
 They went to the courtyard. The Huns had 
 strewn about all the hay supply of the monastery, 
 and were lying down on it waiting for the repast. 
 
 With folded arms, Heribald stood in the back- 
 ground, looking down at them. 
 
 " The Devil's curs cannot even sit down like 
 Christians, when they are about to eat their daily 
 bread." These were his thoughts, but he took good 
 care not to utter them aloud. Experience of frequent 
 blows teaches silence. 
 
 " Lie down, black-coat; thou mayst eat also," cried 
 Erica, and signed to him to follow the example of 
 the others. He looked at the man of Ellwangen, 
 who was lying there with crossed legs, as if he had 
 never known what it was to sit otherwise. So Heri- 
 bald tried to follow his example ; but he soon got up 
 again: this position seemed to him too undignified. 
 So he fetched a chair out of the monastery, and sat 
 down with the rest. 
 
 An ox had been roasted on a spit ; whatever else 
 the cloister kitchen provided was utilized ; and they 
 fell to with ravenous hunger. The meat was cut off
 
 264 EKKEHARD 
 
 with their short sabres, the fingers ser\'ing as knife 
 and fork. On end in the courtyard stood the big 
 wine-tun ; every one dipped out as much as he liked. 
 Here and there a finely wrought chalice was used as 
 a drinking-cup. 
 
 They gave Heribald also as much wine as he 
 wished for, but when with silent contentment he was 
 sipping it, a half-gnawed bone flew at his head. He 
 looked up sorrowfully, but saw that many another of 
 the feasters met with the same fate. To throw bones 
 at one another was a Hunnic custom instead of 
 dessert. 
 
 Wine-warm, they began a rough and unmelodious 
 singing.i'"^ Two of the younger horsemen sang an 
 old song in honor of King Etzel, in which it was said 
 that he had been a conqueror not only with the 
 sword, but also with his charms of person. Then 
 followed a satirical stanza on a Roman emperor's 
 sister, who fell in love with him from a distance and 
 offered him her heart and hand, which, however, he 
 refused. 
 
 Like the screeching of owls and the croaking of 
 toads rang the chorus. Then some of them came 
 to Heribald, and made him understand that he 
 also was expected to give them a song. He tried to 
 avoid it ; but to no avail. So he sang in an almost 
 sobbing voice the antiphon in honor of the holy 
 cross, beginning with the " Sanctijica tiosT 
 
 With astonishment the drunken men listened to the 
 long whole notes of the old church chant : the strange 
 melody sounded like a voice in the wilderness. 
 
 With rising anger the Forest woman, sitting beside
 
 HER /BALD AND HIS GUESTS 265 
 
 the copper kettle, also, heard it. With her knife she 
 stole over, seized Heribald by his hair, and was going 
 to cut off his locks, — the greatest insult that could he 
 offered to a tonsured priest's consecrated head. 
 
 But Heribald pushed her back, and chanted on 
 undaunted. This pleased the assembly ; they shouted 
 with delight. Cymbals and violins again resounded, 
 and now the Flower-of-the-heath approached the 
 monk ; the monotonous chant had become tiresome 
 to her ; with mocking pity she seized him. 
 
 " After song comes dancing ! " she cried, and drew 
 him into the whirl of the wild dance.^'^^ 
 
 Heribald knew not what happened to him. Erica's 
 swelling bosom pressed up to him. 
 
 " Whether Heribald dances or not, it will be only 
 another small link in the great chain of abomina- 
 tions," he reasoned ; so he bravely stamped the 
 ground with his sandal-clad feet; his cowl flew 
 about him. Tighter and tighter he pressed the 
 Hunnic maiden, and who knows what might 
 still have happened . . . With heightened color she 
 finally stopped, gave her partner a little parting 
 slap in the face, and ran off to the chieftains, who, 
 with serious faces, were looking on at the frenzied 
 throng. 
 
 The festivities were coming to an end ; the effects 
 of the wine were passing away. Then Ellak gave 
 the order to burn the dead. In a moment's time, the 
 whole troop were on horseback, and riding in closed 
 ranks to the funeral-pile. The two dead men's 
 horses were stabbed by the oldest of the Huns, and
 
 266 EKKEHARD 
 
 laid beside their late master's bodies. The gray- 
 haired Hun repeated an impressive conjuration over 
 the assembly, then he lifted the fire-brand and lighted 
 the pile. Boethius' •' Comfort of Philosophy," pine 
 logs, manuscripts, and corpses vied with one another 
 in burning the brightest, and a mighty pillar of smoke 
 rose up to the sky. 
 
 With wrestling, warlike exercises and races, the 
 memory of the dead was celebrated. The sun was 
 sinking in the west. The whole body of Huns passed 
 the night in the monastery. 
 
 It was on the Thursday before Easter, when all 
 this happened on the island of Reichenau. The 
 tidings of this invasion soon reached the fishermen's 
 huts around Radolfszell. When Moengal, the par- 
 ish priest, held the early morning service, he still 
 counted six of his pious flock ; in the afternoon there 
 were only three, including himself. 
 
 Angrily he was sitting in the little room in which 
 he had once hospitably entertained Ekkehard ; then 
 the pillar of smoke from the Hunnic funeral-pile 
 rose into the air. tje stepped to the window. It 
 was dense and black as if the whole monastery were 
 in flames; the scent of burning came over the lake. 
 
 " Hihahoi ! " cried Moengal; '■'■Jam proximiis 
 ardet Ucalcgon, — already it is burning at neighbor 
 Ucalegon's ! Then I must also get my house ready. 
 Out with ye now, my old Cambutta ! " ^"^ 
 
 Cambutta was no servnng-maid, but a huge blud- 
 geon, a genuine Irish shillelah, Aloengal's favorite 
 weapon.
 
 HERIBALD AND HIS GUESTS 267 
 
 He packed the chalice and the ciborium into his 
 doeskin game-bag. Nothing else of gold or silver 
 did he possess. Then he called together his hounds, 
 his hawk, and two falcons ; he flung to them all the 
 meat and fish his pantry boasted. 
 
 " Eat as much as ever you can, children," said he, 
 "so that nothing be left for those cursed plagues! " 
 
 The butt in the cellar he knocked to pieces, so 
 that the sparkling wine streamed forth. 
 
 " Not a drop of wine shall the devils drink in 
 MoengaFs parsonage. 
 
 Only the jug containing the vinegar was left in- 
 tact. On the crystal-clear butter in the wooden 
 cask he emptied a basketful of ashes. His fishing- 
 tackle and sporting-utensils he buried ; then he 
 smashed the windows, and carefully strewed the 
 fragments about in the rooms. Some he even put 
 into the chinks of the floor, with the points turned 
 up, — all in honor of the Huns' He let the hawk 
 and falcons fly away. 
 
 "Farewell!" he cried, "and keep near; for soon 
 there will be dead heathen to pick ! " 
 
 So his house was put in order. Hanging the game- 
 bag, as well as a Hibernian leather canteen, over 
 his shoulders, with two spears in his hands, and 
 Cambutta the shillelah fastened on his back, — thus, 
 a valiant champion of the Lord, old Moengal walked 
 out of his parsonage, which had been his home for so 
 many years. 
 
 He had already gone quite a distance; the sky was 
 darkened with smoke and ashes. "Wait a bit! " he 
 cried. " I have forgotten somethins:."
 
 268 EKKEHARD 
 
 He retraced his steps : — 
 
 " The yellow-faced rascals deserve at least a word 
 of welcome." 
 
 He drew a piece of red chalk from his pocket, 
 and therewith wrote in large Irish characters a few 
 words on the gray sandstone slab over the door. 
 Later rains have washed them away, and no one 
 ever deciphered them ; but no doubt it was a signi- 
 ficant greeting which old Moengal left behind him 
 in Irish runes. 
 
 He struck off at a swift pace, and turned toward 
 the Hohentwiel.
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 269 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS. 
 
 Good Friday had come; but the anniversary of 
 our Saviour's death was not kept on the Hohentwiel 
 this time in the silent way which the prescriptions 
 of the church require. Old Moengal's arrival had 
 dissipated all doubts as to the enemy's approach. 
 Late in the night they held a war-council and de- 
 termined unanimously to go out to meet the Huns in 
 open battle. 
 
 The sun rose drearily ; soon it was hidden again 
 in mist. A fierce gale blew over the land, chasing 
 the clouds along, so that they sank down on the 
 distant Bodensee, as if water and air were striving 
 to mingle. Now and then a sun-beam struggled 
 through. It was the as yet undecided battle which 
 Spring was waging against the powers of Winter. 
 
 The men had already risen, and were preparing 
 for a serious day's work. 
 
 In his watch-tower room Ekkehard was silently 
 pacing up and down, his hands folded in prayer. 
 An honorable commission had devolved on him. 
 He was to preach a sermon to the united forces 
 before they went out to battle, and so he was now 
 praying for strength and inspiration, that his words 
 might be like glowing sparks to kindle the warlike 
 flame in each heart.
 
 270 EKKEHARD 
 
 Suddenly the door opened, and in came the 
 duchess, unaccompanied by Praxedis. Over her 
 morning-dress she had thrown an ample cloak, to 
 protect herself against the cool air ; perhaps, also, 
 that she might not be recognized by the stranger 
 guests, while going over to the watch-tower. A 
 faint blush mantled on her cheeks when she thus 
 stood alone, opposite her youthful teacher. 
 
 " Are you also going out to battle to-day ? " asked 
 she. 
 
 " Yes, I go with the others," replied Ekkehard. 
 
 " I should despise you, if you had given me any 
 other reply," said the noble lady; "and you have 
 justly taken for granted that it would not be neces- 
 sary to ask my leave for such an expedition. But 
 have you not thought of saying Good-bye?" added 
 she, in low, reproachful accents, 
 
 Ekkehard was embarrassed. 
 
 " Far more important, nobler, and better men are 
 leaving your castle to-day," said he. " The abbots 
 and knights will surround you ; — how then could I 
 think of taking a special leave of you, even if . . ." 
 
 His voice came to a stand-still. 
 
 The duchess looked into his eyes. Neither said a 
 word. 
 
 " I have brought you something which will be use- 
 ful to you in battle," said she, after a while. She 
 carried under her mantle a costly sword with a rich 
 shoulder-belt. A milk-white agate adorned the hilt. 
 " It is the sword of Herr Burkhard, my late husband. 
 Of all the weapons he possessed, he valued this the 
 most. 'With that blade one could split rocks, with-
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 27 1 
 
 out breaking it,' he said many a time. You will win 
 glory with it to-day." 
 
 She held out the sword to him; Ekkehard re- 
 ceived it in silence. He already wore his coat-of- 
 mail under his habit. Now he buckled cm the 
 shoulder-belt and seized the hilt with his right hand, 
 as if the enemy were already facing him. 
 
 " I have something else for you," continued Frau 
 Hadwig. 
 
 On a silk ribbon round her neck she wore a jewel 
 in a golden setting. This she now drew forth from 
 her bosom. It was a crystal covering an insignifi- 
 cant-looking splinter of wood. 
 
 " If my prayers should not suffice, then may this 
 relic protect you ! It is a spHnter of the holy cross, 
 which the Empress Helena discovered. ' Wherever 
 this relic is there will be peace, happiness, and pure 
 air,' 180 wrote the Greek patriarch who attested its 
 genuineness. May it now bring a blessing in the 
 coming battle !" 
 
 She leaned toward the monk to hang the jewel 
 round his neck. He bent his knees to receive it; 
 long it had been hanging round his neck, and still 
 he knelt before her. She passed her hand lightly 
 over his curly hair, and there was a peculiarly soft 
 and melancholy expression on the usually haughty 
 countenance. 
 
 Ekkehard had bent his knee at the name of the 
 holy cross, but now he felt as if he must prostrate 
 himself a second time — prostrate himself before 
 her who had so graciously remembered him. 
 
 A budding affection requires time clearly to un-
 
 272 EKKEHARD 
 
 derstand itself; and in matters of love he had not 
 learned to reckon and count, as in the verses of Ver- 
 gil, or he might have guessed that she who had 
 taken him away from his quiet monastery-cell — that 
 she wtio that evening on the Hohenkrahen, and now 
 again on the morning of battle, had stood before him 
 as Frau Hadwig did, might well have expected a 
 word from the depths of his heart, — perhaps even 
 more than a word. 
 
 His thoughts quickly followed one another; all 
 his pulses were throbbing. 
 
 If on former occasions anything like love had 
 stirred in him, then the reverence for his mistress 
 had driven it back, as the storm slams the shutters 
 in the face of the child looking timidly out of the 
 dormer window. At this moment, however, he was 
 not thinking of that reverence, but rather of how he 
 had once carried the duchess boldly across the mon- 
 astery-yard. Neither did he think of his monastic 
 vow ; but something stirred in him, and he felt as if 
 he must rush into her arms, and exultingly press her 
 to his heart. Herr Burkhard's sword seemed to 
 burn at his side. 
 
 " Throw aside all timidity. The world belongs to 
 the bold." 
 
 Were not these words to be read in Frau Hadwig's 
 eyes ? 
 
 He stood up; strong, great, and free, — she had 
 never seen him look so before, . . . but it lasted 
 only a second. As yet not one sound betraying his 
 inward struggle had escaped his lips ; then his eye 
 fell on the dark ebony cross which Mncentius had 
 once hung up in his tower-room.
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 273 
 
 " It is the day of the Lord, and thou shalt speak 
 to-day before his people ! " 
 
 The remembrance of his duty drove away all other 
 thoughts. . . . 
 
 Once there came a frost, on a summer morning, 
 and grass and leaves and blossoms grew black and 
 seared, before the sun rose over them. . . . 
 
 Shyly as ever before, he took Frau Hadwig's hand. 
 
 " How shall I thank my mistress ? " said he, in 
 broken accents. 
 
 She cast a searching look at him. The soft ex- 
 pression had vanished from her face ; the old stern- 
 ness had returned to her brow, as if she meant to 
 say, ." If you don't know how, I am not going to tell 
 you ; " but she said nothing. Still Ekkehard held 
 her hand in his. She drew it back. 
 
 " Be pious and brave," said she, as she left the 
 chamber. It sounded Hke mockery. . . . 
 
 Scarcely longer than a person needs to say the 
 Lord's Prayer, had the duchess been with Ekkehard ; 
 but more had happened than he suspected. 
 
 He resumed his walk up and down the tower-room. 
 
 Thou shalt deny thyself aiid follow the Lord. 
 
 Thus it is laid down in St. Benedict's rules re- 
 garding good works, and Ekkehard felt almost 
 proud of the victory he had won over himself; but 
 Frau Hadwig had gone down the winding staircase 
 with wounded feelings, and when a haughty mind 
 believes itself to be disdained, evil days must follow. 
 
 It was seven o'clock in the morning, and in the 
 courtyard of the Hohentwiel they were having the 
 VOL. I.— 18
 
 274 EKKEHARD 
 
 divine service before the troops set forth. The altar 
 had been erected under the old linden-tree : on it 
 were placed the sacred relics for the comfort of be- 
 lievers. The courtyard was filled with armed men 
 standing in close, orderly ranks, as Simon Bardo 
 had arranged them. Like the roll of distant thun- 
 der arose the processional chant of the monks. 
 
 The abbot of Reichenau, wearing the black 
 palhum with the white cross, celebrated high 
 mass. 
 
 After him, Ekkehard mounted the altar steps. 
 With deep emotion his eye glided over the crowded 
 assembly ; once more it flashed through his mind 
 how, but a short while before, he had stood face 
 to face with the duchess in the solitary chamber; 
 then he read the gospel of the suffering and death of 
 the Saviour. As he read on, his voice became 
 always clearer and more distinct ; he kissed the book 
 and then handed it to the deacon, for him to put it 
 back on its silk cushion. For a moment he looked 
 up heavenwards ; then he began his sermon. 
 
 The throng listened with breathless attention. 
 
 " Almost a thousand years have passed," he cried, 
 " since the Son of God bent his head on the cross, 
 saying, ' It is finished ! ' but w^e have not prepared 
 our souls to receive the redemption ; we have lived 
 in sin, and the offences which we have committed 
 in the hardness of our hearts cry out to Heaven 
 against us. 
 
 " Therefore a time of affliction has come upon us ; 
 glittering swords flash against us ; heathenish mon- 
 sters have invaded Christian lands.
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS. 275 
 
 " But instead of angrily inquiring, ' How long will 
 the Lord forbear, while he lets our beloved homes 
 become the prey of such heathenish idolaters,' let 
 every one strike his own bosom and say : ' On ac- 
 count of our depravity have they been sent upon us.' 
 And if ye would be delivered from them, think of 
 our Saviour's valiant death ; and as he took up his 
 cross and bore it himself to the place of skulls, seize 
 the sword, and seek each your own Golgotha ! " . . . 
 
 He pointed over to the shores of the lake; then 
 he poured out words of comfort and promise strong 
 as the lion's call in the mountain. 
 
 " The times are coming of which it has been 
 written : — 
 
 " A nd when the thousand years are expired^ 
 Satan shall be loosed out of his prison., and shall go 
 out to deceive the nations which are in the fottr 
 quarters of the earth, Gog and Magog., to gather 
 them together to battle : the number of whom is as 
 the sand of the sea. And they went up, on the 
 breadth of the earth., and compassed the caynp of the 
 saints about, and the beloved city : and fire came 
 down from God, out of heaven, and devoured them. 
 And the devil that deceived them was cast into the 
 lake of fire and brimstone, where the beast and the 
 false prophet are, a?id shall be tormented day a?id 
 night, for ever and ever.^^'^ 
 
 "And what the seer at Patmos beheld and re- 
 vealed is for us a promise and pledge of victory, if 
 we go out with purified hearts to meet the enemy. 
 Let them come on their swift horses ; what will it 
 avail ? The Lord has marked them as the children
 
 2/6 EKKEHARD 
 
 of hell ; therefore their face is but a mockery of the 
 human countenance. They can trample down the 
 harvest on our fields, and desecrate the altars of our 
 churches, but they can not resist the arm of men in 
 whom God himself has inspired courage. 
 
 " Therefore bear in mind that we Suabians must 
 always be in the forefront ^^- when the fatherland 
 has to be defended ; and if in other times it would 
 be a dire sin in the eyes of the Lord to buckle on 
 the sword on his holy day, to-day he will bless our 
 weapons, and send his saints to assist us, and he 
 himself will fight in our ranks, — he the Lord of hosts, 
 who commands his destroying lightnings to flash 
 down from heaven, and opens the yawning chasms 
 of the depths when the hour of fulfilment has come." 
 
 With choice examples of glorious warlike deeds 
 Ekkehard then fired his auditors ; and many a hand 
 fiercely grasped the spear, and many a foot was 
 lifted impatiently from the ground, when he spoke 
 of Joshua, who with the Lord's help conquered 
 thirty-one kings in the region beyond the Jordan ; — 
 and of Gideon, who with loud-sounding trumpets 
 broke into the camp of the Midianites, and drove 
 them before him unto Bethesda and Tebbath ; — 
 and of the sally of the men of Bethulia, who, after 
 Judith's glorious deed, smote the Assyrians with the 
 edge of the sword. 
 
 But at the end he quoted the words which Judas 
 Maccabaeus spoke to his people when they encamped 
 at Emaus in face of the army of King Antiochus. 
 
 " ' Arm yourselves, and be valiant men, and be in 
 readiness against the morning, that ye may fight
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 2'JJ 
 
 with these nations that are assembled together 
 against us to destroy us and our sanctuary ; for it is 
 better to perish in battle than to see misfortune be- 
 fall our sanctuary.' Amen." 
 
 For a moment after he had ended there was per- 
 fect silence ; then arose a crashing and clashing of 
 arms. They clanged swords and shields together, 
 raised their spears, and waved their "banners in the 
 air, — ancient tokens of heartfelt approval. " Amen " 
 was repeated from all the ranks. Then they fell on 
 their knees; — the high mass was reaching its close. 
 The wooden rattles, instead of the usual bell-tones, 
 thrilled them with strange awe. Every one who had 
 not yet taken the holy sacrament went up to the 
 altar to receive it. 
 
 But now from the tower was suddenly heard the 
 cry : — 
 
 " To arms ! to arms ! the enemy ! ^^^ a dark mass 
 is coming ! coming toward us from the lake. Riders 
 and horses ! the enemy ! " 
 
 Now there was no more restraint and no quiet. 
 The men stormed toward the gate as if driven by 
 the Spirit. Abbot Wazmann had scarcely time to 
 pronounce the blessing. 
 
 So in our days the Wendic fisherman rushes 
 from Sunday church, which his priest holds on the 
 Rugianic sea-sands at the time when the shoals of 
 herring are approaching. " The fish are coming ! " 
 cries the watchman on the white sandy shore, and 
 the next moment there is a dash for the boats. 
 Forsaken stands the clergyman, gazing at the tumult; 
 then he also cuts short the threads of his devotions,
 
 2/8 EKKEHARD 
 
 and he seizes his nets, and hastens to his dory to 
 wage war upon the scaly tribe. . . . 
 
 Thirsting for battle, they marched out of the 
 courtyard, each heart swelling with the soul-stirring 
 conviction that a great moment was at hand. The 
 monks of St. Gall mustered sixty-four, those of the 
 Reichenau ninety, and of the arriere-ban men there 
 were above five hundred. 
 
 Close by the standard of the brotherhood of St. 
 Gall strode Ekkehard. It was a crucifix, veiled in 
 crape, with long black streamers, as the monastery 
 banner had been left behind. 
 
 On the balcony stood the duchess, waving her 
 white handkerchief. Ekkehard turned around and 
 looked up at her ; but her eyes evaded his, and her 
 parting salutation was not meant for him. 
 
 Some of the serving-brothers had carried St. 
 Mark's coffin down to the lower castle gate. All 
 who passed by touched it with sword and lance- 
 point, then with heavy tread moved down the castle- 
 road. 
 
 In the wide plain stretching out toward the lake 
 Simon Bardo drew Up his troops. Hei ! how pleased 
 the old field-marshal was that his scar-covered breast 
 again wore the accustomed mail, instead of the 
 monk's habit ! He rode along in a strangely shaped, 
 pointed steel morion ; his broad, jewel-set girdle and 
 the golden hilt of his sword indicated the former 
 general. 
 
 " You read the classics on account of the grain- 
 mar,^'' he had said to the abbots, who, mounted on 
 fine horses, rode at his side ; " but / have learnt my
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 2/9 
 
 handicraft from them. With the good advice of 
 Frontinus and Vegetius something may still be 
 achieved even now-a-days. First we will try the 
 battle-array of the Roman legions ; for in that posi- 
 tion one can best await the enemy and see what he 
 means to do. Afterwards we are still at liberty to 
 change our tactics ; the affair will not be settled be- 
 tween us in half an hour." 
 
 He -ordered the light corps of the archers and 
 sling-bearers to take the lead ; they were to occupy 
 the border of the wood, where they would be shel- 
 tered by the fir-trees against attack on horseback. 
 
 " Aim low," said he ; " even if you hit the horse 
 insteajd of the rider, it is always something." 
 
 At the sound of the horns the troop hastened for- 
 wards. As yet, nothing was to be seen of the 
 enemy. 
 
 The men of the arriere-ban he arrayed in two 
 columns. In close ranks, with levelled lances, they 
 slowly advanced, — a space of a few steps remaining 
 between the two files. The Baron of Randegg and 
 the gaunt Fridinger commanded them. 
 
 The monks Simon Bardo collected into one com- 
 pact body, and placed them in the rear. 
 
 " Why this ? " asked Abbot Wazmann ; he was of- 
 fended because the honor of heading the attack was 
 not granted them. But Bardo, experienced in war, 
 smilingly replied : — 
 
 "Those are my Triarians; not because they are 
 veteran soldiers, but because they are fighting for 
 their own warm nests. To be driven out of house 
 and home and bed makes swords cut keenest and
 
 280 EKKEHARD 
 
 spears thrust deepest. Have no anxiety; the tug of 
 war will come soon enough to the disciples of St. 
 Benedict." 
 
 The Huns had left the monastery of Reichenau at 
 early dawn. The provisions were all consumed, the 
 wine drunk, the church pillaged ; their day's work 
 was done. 
 
 Many a wrinkle on Heribald's forehead grew 
 smooth when the last of the horsemen rode out of 
 the gate. He threw after them a gold coin which 
 the man from Elhvangen had confidentially thrust 
 into his hand. 
 
 " Friend, if thou shouldst hear that a mishap had 
 befallen me," said Snewelin, " then let a dozen 
 masses be read for my poor soul. I have always 
 had a friendly feeling for you and your fellow-monks, 
 and how it was that I fell amongst the heathens, I 
 myself can scarcely understand. The soil of Ell- 
 wangen is unfortunately too rough and stony for 
 producing saints." 
 
 Heribald, however, would have nothing to do with 
 him. In the garden, he shovelled up the bones and 
 ashes of the burnt Huns and their horses, and scat- 
 tered them into the lake, even while the Huns were 
 in the act of crossing to the other side. 
 
 " No heathen dust shall remain on the island," 
 said he. 
 
 " Then he went to the monastery yard, and thought- 
 fully stared at the place where he had been forced to 
 dance on the day before. 
 
 The course taken by the Huns led them through
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 28 1 
 
 the dark fir-wood toward the Hohentwiel. But, as 
 they went carelessly cantering along, here and there 
 a horse began to stagger ; arrows and missiles from 
 slings flew into their ranks, sent by invisible hands. 
 The vanguard showed signs of hesitation. " Why 
 do you care for the stinging of gnats ? " cried Ellak, 
 and he spurred his horse. " Forward ! the plain is 
 the field for cavalry-battle ! " 
 
 A dozen of his men were ordered to stay behind 
 with the baggage in order to skirmish with those in 
 the forest. The ground echoed with the tramp of 
 the swiftly advancing horde. On the plain they 
 opened their ranks, and with wild howls galloped out 
 against the approaching column of the arriere-ban. 
 
 Far ahead rode Ellak, with the Hunnic standard- 
 bearer, who waved the green and red flag over his 
 head. Then the chieftain lifted himself high in the 
 saddle, and uttered a piercing cry, and shot off the 
 first arrow, that the battle might be opened according 
 to old custom. ^^^ 
 
 Now the bloody fight began in good earnest. 
 Little avail was it to the Suabian warriors that they 
 stood firm and immovable like a forest of lances; 
 for though the horses recoiled, a shower of arrows 
 came flying at them from the distance. Half stand- 
 ing in the stirrups, with the reins hanging over their 
 horses' necks, even while they were dashing at full 
 speed the Huns took aim; their arrows hit. 
 
 Others came swarming in from the sides ; woe to 
 the wounded, if his brethren did not take him into 
 the centre. 
 
 Then the light-armed troops planned to dash out
 
 282 EKKEHARD 
 
 from the fir-wood and outflank the Huns. The 
 sound of the horn collected them together ; they 
 started out; but, quick as thought, the enemies' 
 horses were turned round, a shower of arrows greeted 
 them. They hesitated ; a few advanced ; these also 
 were thrown back ; only Audifax was left bravely 
 marching along. The arrows whizzed about him ; 
 but, without looking up or looking back, he blew his 
 bag-pipe, as was his duty. Thus he came right into 
 the midst of the Hunnic riders. 
 
 Suddenly his piping stopped; for, in passing, one 
 of the Huns had thrown the lasso over his head and 
 dragged him away with him. Resisting with all his 
 might, Audifax looked around ; not a single man of 
 his troop was to be seen. 
 
 " O Hadumoth ! " cried he, mournfully. 
 
 The rider took pity on the brave fair-haired boy ; 
 instead of splitting his head, he lifted him up on the 
 horse and galloped back. The Hunnic baggage- 
 train had stopped under the shelter of a hill. With 
 erect figure the Forest woman was standing on her 
 cart, intently gazing at the raging battle. She had 
 cared for the first who were wounded, and chanted 
 powerful charms over the flowing blood. 
 
 " Here I bring you some one to clean the camp- 
 kettles ! " cried the Hunnic rider, and he threw the 
 shepherd boy from the horse so that he fell right 
 into the straw-woven body of the cart, at the old 
 woman's feet. 
 
 " Welcome, thou venomous little toad," cried she, 
 fiercely; "thou shalt get thy reward for showing that 
 cowl-bearer the way up to my house ! "
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 283 
 
 She recognized him at once, and, dragging him 
 toward her by the lasso, tied him fast to the cart. 
 
 Audifax remained silent, but bitter tears stood in 
 his eyes. He did not weep because he was taken 
 prisoner, but he wept because his hopes were again 
 disappointed. " O Hadumoth ! " sighed he again. 
 
 The midnight before he had sat with the young 
 goose-driver, hidden in a corner of the fireplace. 
 
 "Thou shalt be safe," Hadumoth had said; "here 
 is a charm against all wounds ! " 
 
 She had boiled a brown snake, and anointed his 
 forehead, shoulders, and breast with its fat. 
 
 " To-morrow evening I shall wait for thee in this 
 same, corner; thou wilt come back to me safe and 
 sound. No metal can do anything against the fat 
 of a snake." 
 
 Audifax had given her his hand, and had gone 
 out with his bagpipe so joyously into battle, — and 
 now ! . . . 
 
 The battle was still raging on in the valley plain. 
 The Suabian ranks were on the point of giving way, 
 already weary from the unaccustomed fighting. 
 Anxiously Simon Bardo looked on and shook his 
 head. 
 
 " The finest strategy," he grumbled, " is lost on 
 these Centaurs, who dash back and forth, and shoot 
 from a distance, as if my threefold array were there 
 for nothing. It would really be well if one were 
 to add to Emperor Leo's book on tactics a special 
 chapter treating of the attack of tlie Huns." 
 
 He rode up to the monks, and divided them again 
 into two bodies ; he ordered the men of St. Gall to
 
 284 EKKEHARD 
 
 advance on the right of the arri6re-ban and those of 
 Reichenau on the left ; then to wheel about so that 
 the enemy, having the wood at his back, might be 
 shut in by a wide semicircle. " If we do not sur- 
 round them, they will not make a stand," he cried, 
 and flourished his broad sword. " Up and at them, 
 then ! " 
 
 A wild fire flashed in all eyes. In marching order 
 stood the ranks. Now they all dropt down on their 
 knees; each took up a clod of earth, and threw it 
 over his head, that he might be consecrated and 
 blessed by his native earth ; i*^ then they rushed on 
 to battle. 
 
 Those of St. Gall struck up the pious war-song of 
 '"'• 7nedia vita.'''' 
 
 Notker the stutterer once passed through the ra- 
 vines of the jVIartistobel, in his native land ; they 
 were building a bridge across. The workmen were 
 hanging over the giddy height. Then it came into 
 his mind like a picture, how, at every moment in our 
 life, the abyss of Death is yawning, and so he com- 
 posed the song. 
 
 Now it served as "a sort of magic song, a protec- 
 tion to their own lives, and death to their enemies. 
 
 Solemn sounded its strains from the lips of the 
 men as they went into battle : — 
 
 hi the midst of life ive are in death : of whom may we seek for 
 succor^ but of thee, O Lord, who for our sins art justly dis^ 
 pleased. 
 
 In thee did our fathers fid their trust, they put their trust in 
 thee, and thou didst set them free. 
 
 O Lord God most holy !
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 285 
 
 And from the other wing the monks of the Reiche- 
 nau were singing : — 
 
 On thee our fathers called^ they called and were not con- 
 
 foicnded. 
 O Lord most mighty .' 
 
 And from both sides was then heard together : 
 
 Despise us not in the days of decrepitude ; -when our strength 
 
 faileth, spare tts. 
 Holy and most merciful Saviour, deliver us not into the bitter 
 
 pangs of eternal death M^ 
 
 Thus they stood in close combat. With amaze- 
 ment the Huns had beheld the dark columns ap- 
 proaching. Howls, and the hissing, devilish cry of 
 " hui ! hui ! " ^^"^ was their response to the " jnedza 
 vitay Ellak likewise now divided his horsemen for 
 the attack, and the fighting raged fiercer than ever. 
 
 The Huns, spurring their horses, broke through the 
 feeble force of the monks of St. Gall ; a dire single 
 combat then began. Strength wrestled with swift- 
 ness, German awkwardness with Hunnic cunning. 
 
 The soil of the Hegau then drank the blood of 
 many a pious man. Tutilo the strong was slain. 
 He had tripped up a Hun's horse and pulled the 
 rider down by the feet, and, swinging the wry-faced 
 wretch through the air, split his skull against a 
 stone; but an arrow pierced the hoary warrior's 
 temple. A sound like the victorious hymns of the 
 heavenly host rang through his wounded brain, then 
 he fell down on his slain foe. 
 
 Sindolt the wicked atoned by the death-wound in 
 his breast for many a bad trick which he had played
 
 286 EKKEHARD 
 
 on his brothers in former times, and nothing did it 
 avail Dubslan the Scot that he had made a vow to St. 
 Minwaloius to go bare-foot to Rome, if he would pro- 
 tect him in this battle, — for he also was carried out 
 of the tumult with an arrow shot through his body. 
 
 When the blows were raining down on the helmets 
 like hail-stones on loose slate-roofs, old Moengal 
 drew his hood over his head, so that he could look 
 neither to the right nor to the left ; he had thrown 
 away his spear. " Out with thee now, my old Cam- 
 butta," he cried spitefully, and unbuckled his shille- 
 lah, which had accompanied him fastened to his 
 back. He now stood in the whirl Hke a thrasher 
 on the barn floor. 
 
 For some time a horseman had been capering 
 around him. " Kyrie eleison,'' sang out the old man, 
 and smashed the horse's skull at one blow. On 
 both feet the rider leaped to the ground: a light 
 stroke from the crooked sabre grazed Moengal's 
 arm. 
 
 " Hoiho ! " exclaimed he. " In spring 'tis a good 
 thing to be bled ; but take care, little surgeon ! " and 
 he aimed a blow as if he would strike his opponent 
 ten fathoms deep into the ground. 
 
 The Hun evaded the blow, but the helmet fell off, 
 and the club-wielder saw a rosy face, framed in by 
 long wavy tresses interwoven with a red ribbon. 
 
 Before Moengal could aim another blow, his an- 
 tagonist jumped up at him like a tiger-cat. The 
 young fresh face approached his as if to afford him, 
 in his old days, the opportunity of getting a kiss ; but 
 the next moment he received a sharp bite on his
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 287 
 
 cheek. He clasped his assailant: — it was like a 
 woman's form ! 
 
 " Avaunt from me, demon ! " cried he. " Has hell 
 spewed out her she-devils also ? " 
 
 Then came another bite on the left cheek to re- 
 store symmetry. He started back; she laughed at 
 him ; a riderless horse came dashing by ; before old 
 Moengal had raised his bludgeon again, Erica was 
 in the saddle, and rode away like a dream of the 
 night that vanishes at cockcrow. . . . 
 
 In the main body of the arriere-ban fought Herr 
 Spazzo the chamberlain, heading a troop. The slow 
 advance had pleased him ; but when the fight seemed 
 to come to no conclusion, and men were flying at 
 one another like the hounds and the deer in a chase, 
 then it became rather too much for him. An 
 idyllic mood came over him in the midst of battle 
 and death, and only when a passing rider pulled off 
 his helmet, as an acceptable booty, was he roused 
 from his meditations ; and when the same, renewing 
 the experiment, tried to drag off his mantle also, he 
 cried out angrily, " Is it not yet enough, thou marks- 
 man of the Devil ? " at the same time he dealt at him 
 a thrust with his long sword, which pinned the Hun's 
 thigh to his horse. 
 
 Herr Spazzo then thought of giving him the death- 
 blow ; but on looking into his face, he found it so 
 very ugly that he resolved to bring him home to his 
 mistress, as a living memento of the day. So he 
 made the wounded man prisoner. His name was 
 Cappan, and putting his head under Herr Spazzo's
 
 288 EKKEHARD 
 
 arm, in token of submission, he grinned with his 
 white teeth, because his life had been spared. 
 
 Hornebog had led his troops against the brothers 
 of the Reichenau. Here Death reaped a rich har- 
 vest. The cloister-walls glistened in the distance 
 across the lake, like an appeal to the combatants to 
 exert their utmost strength ; and many a Hun who 
 came within reach of their swords found that he 
 was treading on Suabian ground, where the most 
 telling blows grow wild like strawberries in the 
 wood. But the ranks of the brothers also were con- 
 siderably thinned. Ouirinius the scrivener was rest- 
 ing forever from the writer's-cramp, which had 
 caused the spear in his right hand to tremble. 
 There fell Wiprecht the astronomer, and Kerimold 
 the master of trout-fishing, and Witigowo the archi- 
 tect ; — who knows them all ? the nameless heroes, 
 who died a joyful death ! 
 
 To one only did a Hunnic arrow bring relief ; that 
 was brother Pilgeram. He was born at Cologne, on 
 the Rhine, and had carried his thirst of knowledge, 
 as well as a mighty goitre, to St. Pirmin's isle, where 
 he was one of the most learned and most pious of 
 the monks ; but his goitre increased, and he became 
 hypochondriac over the ethics of Aristotle, so that 
 Heribald had often said to him: "Pilgeram, I pity 
 thee." 
 
 Now an arrow pierced the excrescence on his 
 throat. 
 
 " Farewell, friend of my youth ! " he cried, and 
 sank down ; but the wound was not dangerous, and 
 when his consciousness returned, his throat felt
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 289 
 
 light and his head felt light, and as long as he lived 
 he never opened his Aristotle again. 
 
 Round the standard of St. Gall a select body of 
 men had rallied. The black streamers still floated 
 in the air from the image on the crucifix ; but the 
 contest was doubtful. With word and action Ekke- 
 hard encouraged his companions to hold their own ; 
 but it was Ellak himself who fought against them. 
 
 The bodies of slain men and horses cumbered 
 the ground in wild disorder. He who survived had 
 done his duty ; and when all are brave, no single 
 heroic deed can claim its special share of glory. 
 
 Herr Burkhard's sword had received a new bap- 
 tism of blood in Ekkehard's hands, but in vain had 
 he fiercely attacked Ellak the chieftain; after they 
 had exchanged a few blows and thrusts, they were 
 separated again by the billows of battle. 
 
 Already the cross, towering on high, was beginning 
 to waver under the rain of unceasing arrows, when a 
 loud cry of surprise rang through the ranks. From 
 the hill on which stood the tower of Hohenfridingen 
 two unknown horsemen in strange-looking armor 
 came galloping down. Heavy and of mighty bulk 
 sat one of them on his steed; of antiquated shape 
 were shield and harness, but the faded golden orna- 
 ments indicated the high birth of the warrior. A 
 golden band encircled his helmet, from which waved 
 a tuft of red feathers. With mantle fluttering in the 
 wind and lance levelled, he looked like a picture of 
 the olden times ; like King Saul in Folkard's psalm- 
 book, when he rode out to meet David.^^^ Close 
 VOL. I. — 19
 
 290 EKKEHARD 
 
 by his side rode his companion, a faithful vassal, 
 ready to succor and protect him. 
 
 " 'T is the archangel Michael ! " rang the cry 
 through the Christian ranks, and with this their 
 strength rallied. 
 
 The sun shone brightly on the strange knight's 
 arms, like an omen of victory, — and now the \.^o 
 were in the midst of the battle. He in the gilt 
 armor seemed to be looking about for a worthy an- 
 tagonist ; one was not lacking, for, as soon as the 
 Hunnic chieftain's keen eyes spied him out, his 
 horse's head was turned toward him. The stranger 
 knight's spear flew by him ; Ellak was already 
 raising his sword to deal the death-blow, when the 
 vassal threw himself between the two. His broad 
 sword merely struck the enemy's horse ; so he bent 
 his head forwards, and caught the blow meant for his 
 master; cut through the neck, the faithful shield- 
 bearer found his death. 
 
 With a noisy clattering Ellak's horse fell to the 
 ground ; but before the din had quite died out the 
 Hun was on his feet again. The unknown knight 
 raised his mace to br^ak his enemy's head ; but Ellak, 
 with his left foot braced against the body of his 
 dead courser, pressed back the raised arm with his 
 sinewy hand, and strove at the same time to pull 
 him from his steed. Then, face to face, the two 
 mighty ones engaged in such a wrestling that those 
 around them ceased fighting to look on. 
 
 Now, by a crafty movement, Ellak seized his short 
 sword, which, like all Huns, he wore at his right side ; 
 but just as he was lifting his arm to use it, his antago-
 
 THE BATTLE WITH THE HUNS 29 1 
 
 nist's mace came down slowly but heavily on his head. 
 Yet his hand still dealt the thrust ! Then he raised 
 it to his forehead ; the blood streamed over it ; 
 the Hunnic chieftain fell back over his war-horse, 
 and reluctantly breathed out his life. 
 
 " Here ! sword of the Lord and St. Michael ! " 
 now rose triumphantly the cry of monk and arriere- 
 ban ! They rushed on to one last desperate attack. 
 The knight in the gilt armor was still the foremost in 
 the fight. The death of their leader caused a panic 
 to the Huns ; they turned, and sped away in mad 
 flight. 
 
 The Forest woman had already perceived the 
 issue .of the battle. Her horses were ready har- 
 nessed ; she cast one last angry glance at the 
 approaching monks and her rocky home, then she 
 drove the horses at a swift pace toward the Rhine, 
 followed by the rest of the train. 
 
 " To the Rhine ! " was the watch-word of the flying 
 Huns. 
 
 Last of all, and unwillingly, Hornebog turned his 
 back on the battlefield and the Hohentwiel. 
 
 " Farewell, till next year! " cried he, tauntingly. 
 
 The victory was gained; but he whom they be- 
 lieved to be the archangel Michael, sent from 
 Heaven to the field of Hegau, bowed his heavy head 
 down to his horse's neck. Reins and mace fell 
 from his hands; whether it was the Hunnic chief- 
 tain's last thrust, or suffocation in the heat of the 
 battle, he was lifted down from his horse a dead 
 man. On opening his visor, a happy smile was still
 
 292 EKKEHARD 
 
 visible on his wrinkled old face. . . . From that hour 
 the headache of the old man of the Heidenhohlen 
 had ceased forever. Dying as an honorable cham- 
 pion should, he had atoned for the sins of bygone 
 days ; this gave him joy in the hour of death. 
 
 A black dog ran about searchmg on the battle- 
 field till he found the old man's body. Dismally 
 howling, he licked his forehead ; and Ekkehard 
 stood near, with tears in his eyes, and repeated a 
 prayer for the welfare of his soul. . . 
 
 With helmets adorned with green fir-twigs the con- 
 querors returned to the Hohentwiel. Twelve of the 
 brothers they left in the valley to watch the dead on 
 the battlefield. 
 
 Of the Huns, one hundred and eighty-four had 
 fallen in battle ; of the Suabian arriere-ban, ninety- 
 six; those of the Reichenau had lost eighteen, and 
 those of St. Gall twenty, besides the old man and 
 Rauching his bondsman. 
 
 With a handkerchief tied round his face, Moengal 
 stalked over the field, leaning on his shillelah instead 
 of a staff. One by one he examined the dead. 
 
 " Hast thou not seen amongst them a Huri. who in 
 reality is a Hunnic woman ? " he asked of one of the 
 watch-keeping brothers. 
 
 " No," was the reply. 
 
 " Then I may as well go home," said Moengal.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 1. Page 3. Purchardiis atcfem, dux Suevorum, Sueviant 
 quasi ty^-annice regejts. Ekkehardi IV. " Casus S. Galli," 
 c. 3, in Pertz's " Monumenta Germaniae Historica," II. 
 104. hie cwn esset bellator intolerabilis. Witukind, Lib. I. 
 c. 27. 
 
 2. Page 3. . . . curniam esset decrepitus. Ekkeh. "Ca- 
 sus S. Galli," c. 10. 
 
 3. Page 4. Hadazviga, Henrici ducts /ilia, Suevorttm, 
 post Pui'chardum virum dux vidua, cum Duellio habitaret, 
 feviina admodtim qjiidem pidchra, nimice severitatis cum 
 
 esset suis, longe lateque terris erat terribilis. Ekkeh. 
 "Casus S. Galli," c. 10, in Pertz, II. 122. 
 
 4. Page 5. Camisias clizana. pallium canunivel saphi- 
 rimcm. The costume of the nobility was subject to 
 great changes, according to the prevailing fashion. At 
 the time of Karl the Great (Charlemagne) men wore 
 shoes on their feet, gaiter-like bandages fastened with 
 strings and coming high up on the legs, a shirt-like linen 
 undergarment, and a woollen coat or a long mantle 
 thrown over the shoulders and coming to the heels, 
 leaving at the sides apertures for free use of the arms. 
 The long mantle soon gave place to a shorter cloak, 
 which also was speedily discarded as inconvenient. Com- 
 pare the Monachus San Gallensis : " Gesta Karoli Magni,"
 
 294 ^'^^^ ^^-^ 
 
 Lib. I. c. 34, in Pertz, " Monum." 11. 747. The miniature- 
 pictures in the St. Gall MSS. throw much light on the 
 contemporary costumes. 
 
 5. Page 6. The ^'/^ro-^A/, according to the mediaeval 
 system of punishments, was the money price which was 
 exacted for almost every crime and misdemeanor. In 
 principle it was a personal satisfaction to the injured 
 party, a penance ( IVeite, wager, fredun), a fine pay- 
 able to the community for breach of the peace, and 
 later claimed by the lord of the land. The popular 
 laws in ancient times carefully prescribe the Wehrgeld 
 which the proprietor of all kinds of animals might exact 
 in case a violent death or injury befell them. If, how- 
 ever, the harm resulted through accident, it was not 
 regarded as a breach of the peace, and it would have 
 been very difficult for Herr Spazzo to obtain judgment 
 against the Baron of Fridingen for the damage done by 
 his wolf-hound. 
 
 6, Page 6. Proposals of marriage were at that time 
 now and again exchanged between the Byzantine court 
 and the German princes. German bishops were fre- 
 quently sent on such missions to Constantinople; e.g., 
 Bishop Bernward of Wiirzburg for the Emperor Otto 
 III., Werner of Strassburg for the son of the Emperor 
 Konrad II. In a note'of the S. Gall " Liber Benedictio- 
 num " there is a severe animadversion on the custom of 
 the nobles of neglecting German young women and pro- 
 curing their wives from Italy and Greece. The prefer- 
 ence manifested by German gentlemen for Byzantine 
 ladies may be understood from the descriptions of those 
 who were eye-witnesses of the new fashions and the 
 delightful social life introduced at the imperial German 
 court by Theophano, the Greek wife of Otto II. Even 
 the stern scholastic Gerbert, afterwards Pope Sylvester 
 II., found himself compelled to acknowledge the fas-
 
 NOTES 295 
 
 cination of Byzantine femininity. " As soon," says he, 
 " as I came under the influence of these intelligent faces, 
 these Socratic discussions, I forgot all annoyances and 
 no longer grieved at the thought of my absence from 
 home." 
 
 7. Page 7. Native birds, artistically arranged, took 
 the same place in the parlors of those days as parrots do 
 now. In Fragment VIII. of the Latin poem " Ruodlieb," 
 there is a very idyllic account of such wonderfully tame 
 starlings, which knew how to ask for their daily bread, 
 and were taught to repeat the Lord's prayer in Latin : 
 
 nostratim fart " Pater at noster " recitare 
 usque "qui as in coelis," lis^ lis^ lis, triplicatis. 
 
 See Grimm and Schmeller : " Latein. Gedichte des X. 
 u. XL Jahrhunderts," pp. 174 and 212. 
 
 8. Page 12. . . . hcec quondam parvula, Consta?ztino 
 Grceco regi cum esset desponsata, par euniuhos eius ad hoc 
 misses Uteris grcccis adpri?ne est erudita, sed cum imaginem 
 virginis pictor eunuchus do?nino mittendam uti simillime 
 depingeret, solicite eam inspiceret ipsa nuptias exosa os 
 divaricabat et oculos, sicque Grceco pervivaciter reptidiato. 
 Uteris post latiftis studentem Purchart illam dux multi- 
 pliciter dotatam duxit, etc. Ekkeh. " Casus S. Galli," c. 10, 
 in Pertz, " Monum." II. 123. 
 
 9. Page 13. ... seu serpentes capita to;, ascula qucE sibi 
 dant. "Ruodlieb," Fragm. III. 335. 
 
 10. Page 15. Rorschach was frequently chosen as 
 the place of passage for those travelling to Italy. The 
 monastery of St. Gall enjoyed, " by imperial rescript," 
 the jurisdiction over it. See " the Outlet at Rorschach," 
 in Grimm, " Weistiimer," I, 233. Patents from the Saxon 
 emperors confirmed the abbots of S. Gall in rights 
 of market, coinage, and taxes. See Ildefons von Arx, 
 " Geschichte des Kantons Sankt Gallen," I. 221.
 
 296 NOTES 
 
 11. Page 15. ... ^/ clin7iativo ilium cantu salutant : 
 Heil Jierro ! Heil licbo ! et catera. Ekkeh. '* Casus S. 
 Galli," in Pertz, " Monum." II. 87. 
 
 12. Page 16. silvarum avidus. " Vita S. Galli." 
 
 13. Page 17. de natione Scotorum, quibus consiietudo 
 peregrinandi iatn pane in natiirarn conversa. Walafrid 
 Strabo in his " Vita S. Galli," Lib. II. c. 47, in Pertz, 
 " Monum." II. 30. 
 
 14. Page 17. "■ Ascopam i. e. flasconem similis utri de 
 coriis facta, siciit solent Scottones habere." Glossary of a 
 S. Gall MS. of the IXth Cent, in Hattemer, " Denkmale 
 des Mittelalters " : Sankt Gallens altteutsche Sprach- 
 schatze, Bd. I. 237. 
 
 15. Page 17. And now, to be sure, considering the 
 small advantage which posterity owes the endeavors of 
 well-meaning ancestors, we may agree with the praise 
 which Herder in his day gives in his unfortunately 
 rather wooden poem, " Die Fremdlinge " (The Strangers) 
 to those pious wanderers : — 
 
 " Die Scotice mit altem Bardenfleiss 
 Die Biicher schriebett tind bewa/iretenJ'* 
 The Scots with all the zeal of bards 
 Wrote books and kept them well. 
 
 16. Page iS. "Regula S. Benedicti," c. 48. accepit 
 solitus fratres post prandia sommis. " Annales S. Gallenses 
 Majores," in Pertz, '* Monum." I. 81. 
 
 17. Page 19. ... in conclavi vase qiwdam argenteo 
 mire figurato ad aqtiam interendam utcbatur. Ekkeh. IV. 
 "Casus S. Galli," c. i, in Pertz, "Monum." II. 8S. 
 
 18. Page 20. recalvaster est, qui in anterior e parte 
 capitis duo calvitia habet rnedietate inter ilia habente pilos, 
 ut est Craloh abbas et IVikram. Gloss of a S. Gall MS. 
 on the Book of Leviticus, in Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., 
 I. 240.
 
 NOTES 
 
 297 
 
 19. Page 22. ... viore hiritndinis. 
 
 20. Page 23. erat scjiaius reipubliccB 7iostrcB tunc qiii- 
 detn Sanctis siniics. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. Galli." c. i, in 
 Pertz, "Monum." II. 80. 
 
 21. Page 24. eni7nvero hi tres, qicanivis votis essent 
 unicordes, natiira ta?nen, tit Jit, erant dissimiles. See the 
 touching description of the three closely allied mon- 
 astery friends in Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. Galli," c. 3, Pertz, 
 " Monum." II. 94 et seq., in which the wicked Sindolt, 
 their opponent, is closely described. Ratpert is also the 
 author of the Song of Praise of S. Gallus in German, 
 the importance of which is proved by the Latin transla- 
 tion which we possess. Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., I. 
 337. The diptychon carved by Tutilo as a cover for a 
 MS. of the Gospels is still preserved in the monastery 
 library at S. Gall. Ivory was particularly chosen for 
 ecclesiastical ornamentation, for the reason that the 
 elephant, to use an expression of Notker Labeo's in his 
 translation of the Psalms, was regarded as a "chaste 
 beast " — {chiHsche fiio, — keiisches Vieh). Hattemer, 
 "Denkmale," etc., II. 159. 
 
 22. Page 24. "The whole range of knowledge at 
 the close of the IXth Century is brought vividly before 
 us by the ' Glossae Salomonis,' or encyclopaedic dic- 
 tionary, which originated at S. Gall, in the School of 
 Iso, but which is generally named after Archbishop 
 vSalomo III. of Constance. It gives, indeed, many 
 things, word for word, from the treasures of the ancient 
 lexicographers, especially Isidorus, but nevertheless con- 
 tains also a quantity of original material which throws 
 light on contemporary notions and facts. At the same 
 time it illustrates how exceedingly inadequate was the 
 state of learning, and how narrow were the conceptions 
 of life at that time." Stalin, " Wirtemberg. Geschichte," 
 Bd. I. p. 405. The gloss by Sindolt, mentioned on p. 24,
 
 298 NOTES 
 
 reads : Rabidam — thincman, qui semper Z'ult ad uiiam 
 quamque rem disputare. It was not unusual for monks 
 who by the rules of their Order were so constantly 
 obliged to keep silence, to ventilate their spleen by 
 inserting memoranda in MSS. or books. Thus on the 
 last page of Codex 176 there is a picture of a great jug, 
 and under it a number of insulting hexameters against 
 the monastery priest Grimoald, for example : — 
 
 Grimoald, fdllt es dir bei^ aus diesem Kruge zii schbpfen, 
 Moge sein Inhalt sofort sich in S'dure des Essigs vcrwandeln, 
 Und ein unendlidier Husten samt brennendem Durst dir be- 
 schert sein ! 
 
 Grimoald ! if thou shotdd chance to take a drink from this 
 
 vessel, 
 Instantly may its contents to the soiirjiess of vinegar alter^ 
 And diabolical thirst ajid endless coughing give with it. 
 
 Cf. Hattemer, " Denkmale," I. 412. The metrical dia- 
 tribes of the Scot Dubduin are to be found in Ildefons 
 V. Arx : " Berichtigungen und Zusatze zur Geschichte 
 des Kantons Sankt Gallen," p. 20. not. d. 
 
 23. Page 24. Concerning Sintram, the indefatigable 
 calligraphist, cf. Ekkehard IV. " Casus S. Galli," c. i, in 
 Pertz, " Monum." II. 89. 
 
 24. Page 25. A very similar remedy, in application 
 of a freshly skinned wolf's hide, and rubbing with the 
 brain of an Indian fish, is suggested by the Fox to the 
 sick king Lion, in the curious Latin poem " Ecbasis 
 Captivi," V. 495 et seq., as a cure for fever. See Grimm 
 und Schmeller, " Latein. Gedichte des X. Jahrh." p. 259. 
 
 25. Page 25. ... viulieres tile et mala arbor icm nattt- 
 rali sibi quodafn odio adeo exccratus est, ut, ubi in itincre 
 utrumvis inveniret, mansionem facere nollet. Ekkeh. IV. 
 " Casus S. Galli," c. 4, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 104. 
 
 26. Page 35. See I. v. Arx, "Berichtigungen und 
 Zusatze," etc., p. 26.
 
 NOTES 299 
 
 27. Page 26. See " Vita Wiboradae, auctore Hart- 
 manno," in the " Acta Sanctorum," Mai, torn. I. p. 2S8. 
 
 28. Page 26. et qiioniam hie locnm apttim piUo de Ekke- 
 hardo . . . rem arduain aggredior, quojiiam, cutn tales viri 
 aiit nulli aiit rarissimi sint, discredi niihi vereor. erat hie 
 
 faeie adeo decorus, tct inspieientes, sicitt Josephiis de Moyse 
 scribit, gratia sui detineret. statJira procerus, forti assi7nilis, 
 eg teal iter grossiis, oculis fulgiirostis ; tit qui dam ad Augtis- 
 tiim ait: quia ftdmen ocidoruni tuorum ferre non possum, 
 sapientia et eloquentia, maxiine autem consiliis, iiemini id 
 temporis postponendus. in estate floi'ida glorice, ut talis 
 facturcB vir, qiiam humilitati proximior, sed postea non ita ; 
 quia disciplina, cum qua nihil unquam participii superbia 
 habuit, in ipso erat spectaculo digna. doctor prosper et asper. 
 7iam citm apud S. Galium ambas scolas suas teneret, nemo 
 prcBter exiles pusiones quicquam alteri nisi latine ausus est 
 proloqui, etc. Ekkeh. IV. "Casus S. Galli," c. 10, in 
 Pertz, " Monum." II. 122. 
 
 29. Page 27. ... scEpe juniori Dominus revelat, quod 
 mclizis est ! " Regula S. Benedicti," c. 3. 
 
 30. Page 28. ... melius claudicare reges quam regiia. 
 
 31. Page 30. nemiiii nunquam, ait, Benedicti cncidla 
 dccentius insederat ! Ekkeh. "Casus S. Galli," c. 10. 
 
 32. Page 31. S. Gall was specially reputed for its 
 close observance of monastic discipline and the virtuous 
 behavior of its inmates. It was therefore regarded as a 
 great honor to be received into the brotherhood, — fratres 
 conscripti, — all the more because one thus gained the 
 credit for pious observances without actually having to 
 practice them ! Many underwent considerable expense to 
 obtain it. The register of the fratres conscripti is still 
 extant. In it are the names of emperors, kings of Ger- 
 many, England, and France, princesses, bishops, and 
 counts. Ildef. v. Arx, " Geschichte des Kantons Sankt 
 Gallen," I. iSi.
 
 300 NOTES 
 
 33. Page 32. vidi egojnet coviites aliosqjie potctites, loci 
 qnoqiie viilitcs,festi5 did bus cnccetn nobis cutii seqtiendi, j'ttve- 
 lies et senes qtiosdam ad cingtiluin barbatos monachicis roccis 
 nobiscuni, quaqiia ivimtis, itigredi. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus 
 S. Galli," c. 16. 
 
 34. Page 33- . • . wil er zii iiacht aber da biiliben, so 
 soil ieklich schicpposse, die in den ho/ hoeret, geben ein hun, 
 etc., Grimm, " Weistumer," I. i. 
 
 35. Page 34. . . . caneni sencem, qtievi " leithihnnt " 
 vacant . . . seiicem, qui in ligaynine vestigium tenet, qiceni 
 ^^ spurehunt^^ dicunt. . . . cane/n, qjiein ^^ bibarhunt" vocajit, 
 qui sub terra venatur. "Lex Baiuvarior," tit. 19, " De 
 Canibus." See also " Lex Alamannor," tit. 82, " De 
 Canibus." 
 
 36. Page 35. Der heber gat in'' litun 
 
 tregit sper in^ sUun 
 
 sin bald el I in 
 
 ne lazet in tiellin. 
 
 Into sifitftioze 
 fiiodernidze, 
 
 imo sint btirste 
 
 Sbenho forste. 
 
 linde zene sine 
 
 z-welifelnige. 
 This venerable old Volkslied, which apparently had its 
 origin either from Romeias's Hunting Experiences ("Jagd- 
 geschichte"), or was taken by him as the foundation of 
 his Hunting stories, was preserved to posterity through 
 the S. Gall Treatise on Rhetoric (perhaps Xotker's), in 
 which it is adduced as a characteristic example of hyper- 
 bolic style {nam plus dicitiir sed minus intelligitur). Cf. 
 Hattemer, "Denkmale," etc., Bd. III. p. 577. 
 
 37. Page 36. See " Vita S. Galli," in Pertz, " Monum." 
 n.9. 
 
 38. Page 36. " Regula S. Benedicti," c. i.
 
 NOTES 301 
 
 39. Page 36. In unenlightened ages man attempts to 
 serve his god also in unenlightened ways. A hermit life 
 at that time appealed to world-weary spirits, and ex- 
 amples of human beings who endured for upwards of 
 twenty, and even thirty, years that kind of a voluntary, 
 self-enjoined solitude, go to prove that physical life can 
 be sustained for a long period by a strong will inspired 
 by the belief that one is doing a serviceable deed. In 
 the MS. of the S. Gall *' Annales Maiores " there is 
 preserved a picture of the priest Hartker, a humble, 
 crouching, chastened form, in the flowing robes of a 
 monk, with a great tonsure and the superscription : Hat- 
 keriis rechisiis. See Pertz, " Monum," I. 72. 
 
 The following elegy is dedicated to him in the " Liber 
 Benedictionum " : — 
 
 Who ever had a harder lot than Hartker the hermit, 
 Who for thirty long years in a tiarrow chamber was chastened? 
 Ever bent was his head — so low was the roof of his prison I 
 Here a stone was his only pillow. Upon it he slumbered, 
 On it he died — his wasted arms on the crticifix spreadiiig, 
 Turning to heaven his gaze a7id commending his soul to his 
 Saviour. 
 
 See I. V. Arx, " Geschichte," etc., I. 232. 
 
 A famous hermit of earlier date was Saint Fintan 
 (t 827), who founded the monastery of Rheinau not far 
 from Schaffhausen. Whole nights at a time he was 
 heard in his cell praying at the top of his voice, and 
 uttering his exorcisms in the strange sounds of his native 
 Keltic against the temptations of the evil one. See 
 "Vita S. Findani Confessoris," in Mone, *' Quellensamm- 
 lung der badischen Landesgeschichte," p. 57. Concern- 
 ing the ceremonies at the act of walling up the recluses, 
 Cf. Martene, " De Antiqu. Ecclesiae Ritib." II. 177. 
 
 40. Page 37. Wiborad is an ancient German name, 
 and signifies Rat der Weiber (" women's counsel "). Two
 
 302 NOTES 
 
 monks of the monastery of S. Gall, Hartmann and Hepi- 
 dan, wrote the biography of this hermitess, whose life 
 acquired a significance through its tragic conclusion. It 
 is to be found in the " Acta Sanctorum" of der Bollandist 
 (May, Vol. I. 2S4, etc.). See also Pertz, " Monum." 
 
 VI. 452. 
 
 41. Page 3S. . . . viagistra prcedurata. 
 
 42. Page 41. Luke ix. 62. 
 
 43. Page 42. . . . castitatis, inguit,fili mi, tibi cinguhwi 
 per hoc lineufn meutn a Deo accipe. contine)iti(zque cingii- 
 lum per hoc lineum ineum a Deo accipe, continenticcqiie 
 strophio ab hac deinceps die per Wiboradam tuajn te prcz- 
 cinctiini memento, cave auteni, ne ullis abhitic coUoquiis 
 vanis mulierculis miscearis. et si, ut facillifne Jit, aliqiio 
 carnis igne incensusfueris, loco in quo fiieris, mutato, " Dens 
 in adiiitoriicm meum intende. Domine ad adiiivatidiim vie 
 festina " mox cantavcris. siti autem sic pacem aliquo alio 
 lapsii tuo vetante non habueris, titiofiem sive candclam arden- 
 tem quasi aliud aliquid agas querens, digitum vel leviter 
 ad lire, eodemqiie versii die to securus eris. Ekkeh. IV. 
 " Casus S. Galli," c. 3, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 107. 
 
 44. Page 43- • • . et accepit angelus folia lauri ct scripsit 
 in eis verba orationis et dedit ea Pachumio dicens : mandiica 
 ea, et erunt aniara in ore tuo sicut fel, ventremque tuiiTU 
 implebu)it obsecrationibus sapientice, dabitiir tibi forma ora- 
 tionis sance doctrines, et accipiens Pachumitis niandiicavit 
 et factum est os eitis amarum, porro venter eius didcedine 
 impletus est, et magttificavit Domimim valde. " Vita Pachu- 
 mii St. Abbatis," in the MS. of the Karlsruhe Court 
 Library. 
 
 45. Page 43. de cilicio etiam, quo ipsa utebatur, cuius 
 hodie aspcrifatem pro rcliquiis id habenfes horrescimus. . . . 
 Ekkeh. IV. "Casus S. Galli," c. 3, Pertz, "Monum." 
 II. 107. 
 
 46. Page 44. proferensque mala de silva acidissima
 
 NOTES 303 
 
 inhianti et de majiibus ejics rapieiiti rdiqiierat. at ilia vix 
 iimim dijuidhim ore et ocidis contractis vorajis, catera pro- 
 jiciens : " aiistera es, inquit, austera sunt et mala tua." et 
 aim esset literata : " si omnia, inquit, mala factor talia cre- 
 asset, nunqiiam Eva malum gustasset ! ^^ '■'■bene, ait illa^ 
 Evam mcmorasti; enimvero qtcotnodo et tu sic deliciarum 
 avida erat, ideo in escula unius mali peccaveratP Ekke- 
 hardi IV. "Casus S. Galli," c. 10, in Pertz, " Monum." 
 II. 119. 
 
 47. Page 45. The Archangel Michael was to the Mid- 
 dle Ages an object of multifarious superstition. It was 
 believed that to him was assigned the duty of keeping 
 guard over the throne of God the Father; and more- 
 over that on Mondays, he celebrated mass before Him. 
 Bishop. Rather of Verona, in his sermon " De Quadriges- 
 ima," inveighs strenuously against these coarse material 
 conceptions. Cf. Vogel, " Ratherius von Verona und 
 das X. Jahrhundert," Bd. I. 293. 
 
 48. Page 47. Hroswitha of Gandersheim treated of 
 the story of Thais and the Anchorite of the Desert in 
 her naive Latin Comedy " Paphnucius." See Magnin, 
 " Theatre de Hrotswitha," Paris, 1845, P- 280 et seq. 
 
 49. Page 47. quid mihi et itianibus huius seculi vani- 
 tatibus ? audio in ccelis signa sonitusque campanarum ac 
 dulcisonam angeliccE modulationis harmoniam : illnc ire 
 desidero, his intercsse delector. " Vita Wiboradae, Auctore 
 Ilartmanno," c. 2. 
 
 50. Page 51. Frau Wendelgard's yearning for her 
 captured spouse was most delightfully stilled. Once each 
 year she left her cell in order to spend a solemn season 
 at Buchhorn in honor of Count Ulrich's memory. One 
 time, just as she was about to return, as she was with her 
 own hand distributing alms among the poor, there stood 
 among the beggars a man ragged and disfigured, to whom 
 she gave a garment. But he did not let go her hand, but
 
 304 NOTES 
 
 drew her to his heart and kissed her before all the people ; 
 then pushed back his hair and cried, " Recognize thy 
 husband ! " 
 
 When Frau Wendelgard, angry at such impertinence 
 on the part of a stranger, tried to tear herself away, and 
 would have turned him over to her servants to chastise, 
 he pointed to an old scar, and then she awoke as it were 
 from a long sleep and cried : " O my lord and master, 
 thou of all men to me the dearest, welcome ! welcome, 
 thrice welcome ! thou sweetest of mortals ! " and threw 
 herself weeping into his arms. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. 
 Galli," c. 10, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 120. 
 
 51. Page 52. . . . pelle eius stjnulatce sanctitatis detracta. 
 . . . Hepidan, " Vita Wiboradae," c. II. 
 
 52. Page 52. . . . ^t^m Jtondum in se viortificaverit phy- 
 largyriam, qucE est omniiwi radix malorwn, etc. The 
 complaints which Wiborad once had to answer before 
 the Archbishop of Constance are to be read in full in 
 Hepidan, "Vita Wibor." II. 11. 
 
 53. Page 54. • . .grave pondiis aiiri vej-onensis, gift of 
 Bishop Petrus. The monastery history is rich in spe- 
 cifications of treasures acquired through the solicitude 
 of the abbots or the favor of foreign patrons. See 
 Ekkehardi IV. " Casus S. Galli," c. i, Pertz, " Monum." 
 II. 81. 
 
 54. Page 54. . . . viagmuii calicem ex electri niii'o opere, 
 " Casuum S. Galli, contin." II. c. 7, in Pertz, II. 157. 
 There was no doubt felt of the healing powers of amber. 
 quod vero medeatur f/iultis vitalium incommodis, medetititim 
 doctiit disciplina. S. Gall MS. of the Xth Century in 
 Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., I. 414. 
 
 55. Page 56. spichariiim novtan solis fcris et hehiis, 
 avibtisqiie domesticis et domesticatis juxta fratrum condi fecit 
 et ipsnm iam fieri juss it magnificum. Ekkeh. IV. "Casus 
 S. Galli," c. 16.
 
 NOTES 305 
 
 66. Page 56. 
 
 simia iiare brevi, 7iate nuda murcaque catida, 
 voceque niilvina, cute crisa catta marina, 
 ill qtiibus a?nbabns nil cernitur iitilitatis. 
 
 " Ruodlieb," Fragm. III. 131 et seq. 
 
 57. Page 57. This fable of the wonderful carrying- 
 trick of the marmot afforded great delight to the Middle 
 Ages, and was for example copied by Sebastian Munster 
 in his " Cosmographey," p. 498. It had its origin in 
 Pliny's " Historia Naturalis." 
 
 58. Page 58. . . . Ein vogil heizit Caradriits. in dem 
 biioche deuteronomio, da ist gescriben, daz man in ezzen nes- 
 cnle. Dannan zellet phisiologus tint ch{it das er aller wiz si. 
 Ein mist, der von ime vert der ist ze den tiinchelen oiigeti 
 vile gitet. Mit disme vogile mack man bechennen, ob der 
 sieche tnann irsterben oder gnesen scoL Ob er sterben scol, 
 so cheret sich der caradriiis von ime. Ob er ave gnesen 
 scol, so cheret sich der vogel ziio deme matine und tuot sinen 
 S7iabel uber des niannes munt und nimit des 7natines nn- 
 chraft an sich ; sa fert er {if zno der sntuien imte lint er it 
 sich da: so ist der matin genesen. "Phisiologus," "A 
 Record of Beasts and Birds," contributed by Wacker- 
 nagel, " Altdeutsches Lesebuch," I. p. 166. It is not 
 known what fact in natural history gave rise to this pro- 
 foundly beautiful legend of the caradrius. In S. Gall 
 it was understood by various people in various ways ; for 
 while you find among the names of animals which are 
 contained in the Dictionary of S. Gallus the significant 
 gloss, Cha-ra-drion : et ipsam fion habemiis, sed tamen 
 dicitiir et ipsai7i volare per 77iedias ttoctes i7i stiblitnitate cccli 
 (see Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., I. 9, 10), later MSS. 
 are satisfied to translate the word caradriits simply Ijy 
 the word lericha, lark : this seems to point to a disap- 
 pearance of the earlier well-known legend. See Hatte- 
 mer, " Denkmale," etc., I. 287, 318 et al. 
 
 VOL. I. — 20
 
 306 NOTES 
 
 59. Page 59. • • • longian est diccre,qnibiisJocuTtditatibus 
 dies exegerit ct nodes, maxime in processione infantwyi, qiii- 
 biis poma in medio ecclesice pavimenio a7itester?ii iubens. 
 cnm nee utium parvissimoriivi niovcre nee ad ea adtendej-e 
 vidissef, miratus est disciplifiam. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. 
 Galli," c. I, Pertz, " Monum." II. 84. 
 
 60. Page 59. homo anijual capas disciplince: Hros- 
 witha of Gandersheim. 
 
 61. Page 60. Notker Labeo lived to fulfil the expec- 
 tations which the abbot entertained concerning him. Pie 
 gained the reputation of being the most learned man of 
 his time. As his writings prove, he was a theologian, 
 a musician a poet, an astronomer, a mathematician. 
 He was widely read in the Bible, in the Church Fathers, 
 and in the classics ; he was master of the German, 
 the Latin, and the Greek languages. I. von Arx, " Ge- 
 schichte von St. Gallen," I. 277. His extant German 
 writings compose the second and third volumes of Hatte- 
 mer's " Monuments of the Middle Ages." They comprise 
 in special, expositions on the Psalms, Aristotle, Boethius, 
 and Marcianus Capella, as well as a treatise on music. 
 Notker the Thick-lipped died of the plague at a very 
 advanced old age. Before his death he underwent public 
 penance, in which he expressed his regrets for having, 
 among other things, once killed a wolf while wearing his 
 monastic garb. 
 
 62. Page 60. The passage is from Aristotle's " Cate- 
 gories," c. 36. See Notker's translation in Hattemer, 
 III. 401. 
 
 63. Page 62. erat ntiqne ins illonnn, si cut adhiic hodie 
 quidem est, qno7iiavi exleges qiiidem sunt, nt hospites in- 
 trantes capiant, captos, usque dum se redimant, tefieant. Ek- 
 keh. IV. " Casus S. Galli," c. i, Pertz, " Monum." II. 91. 
 
 64. Page 62. . . . "enimvero si vixero,^^ ait, '^ tne redi- 
 mam et talem indolent remiuiej'abo'' collectisque qiiantotius
 
 NOTES 307 
 
 ante iamtam scolarurti fratrtim priviis statuit ptieris illis et 
 eorum perpetiio posteris pro testamento singnlis annis hidi 
 siii tribtis ab i7nperio statutis diebtis in eisdem scolarw7i ccdi- 
 btis carnibus vesci et de abbatis airte singiilos tribus dojiari 
 cescis cottidie et potibus. quod cum ipse quidem aimuatim 
 prcesens solvi iuberet, postea ita solutiim est usque ad Ungro- 
 rum, de qjtibus loco suo dicturi sunius, itivasioues. Ekkeh. 
 IV. "Casus S. Galli,"c. i. 
 
 65. Page 64. Misdemeanors against the rules of the 
 order were visited with the lash, and the inmates of the 
 monastery voluntarily submitted to it, although it was a 
 slave's punishment, and a freeman who suffered it, there- 
 by, according to the old popular laws, lost his freedom. 
 The culprit was bound to a pillar and scourged on the 
 bare back. A scourging-room like the one here described 
 is still preserved in the Wirtemberg Monastery of Maul- 
 bronn. In the monastery schools the rod was employed. 
 That the instruments of flagellation were provided with 
 wittily appropriate names by those who had to suffer 
 from them is proved by Bishop Salomo's Dictionary, in 
 which the ajiguilla (serpent or eel) is distinguished from 
 the seutica (strap). 
 
 66. Page 66. Tacitus, "German." c. 8. 
 
 67. Page 66. pectenes eburnei ... In the Middle Ages 
 great expense was lavished on combs. The silver-mounted 
 jewelled comb of the Loml)ard Queen Theodolinde in the 
 cathedral treasury at Monza is well known, and the ivory 
 comb at Bamberg, originating from the time of Heinrich 
 II. The custom of accompanying the most ordinary and 
 trivial proceedings of daily life with a prayer gave rise to 
 the composition of formulas for use in cutting and comb- 
 ing the hair, dressing the beard, etc. MS. 395 in the 
 S. Gall Library contains a scries of them, and since it 
 closes with a benedict io ad omiiia qiue valuer is, one need 
 no longer be surprised to find also the benedictio ad bar- 
 bam comeiidam, ad capillos tondeudos, etc.
 
 308 A'OTES 
 
 68. Page 67. " Regula S. Benedict!," c. 38, " De 
 Hebdomadario Lectore." 
 
 69. Page 68. For those readers, especially among the 
 ladies, who are less conversant with Althochdentsch than 
 the author of these notes, and who might therefore 
 have some curiosity to know how this Psalm would 
 actually have sounded in Ekkehard's mouth and in his 
 native speech, let this translation of Notker Labeo's, 
 which was made a few decades later, serve as an exam- 
 ple : Psalrmis XL V. Kti6t wort iropfezta min herza. 
 miniu werch sago ih demo chiininge. nmi wort ist also 
 stdie also dm serif t des sptcdtigo seribeiiten. Sedtie pist du 
 fore alien mhiniscon. knada ist kebreitet in dinen lefsen. 
 fone dm segetidta dih Got iw^hva. Curte dm swert umbe 
 din dieh : filo gewdltigo, mit dinemo menniscinen bilde unde 
 mit dinero gotelichun scdni. Sih an linsih. unde frdm- 
 spicotigo cJnim hhra fone hiinele unde richeso hie/" in dinero 
 ecclesia. tcrnbe warheit nnde ndmenti unde reht. Unde 
 leitet dih wtinderlicho din zescwa. dine strdla sind wasse, 
 hdrto mahtige. Under dih sturzent die liuie, in demo 
 herzen des chuninges fiendo. din studl Got, unde din riche 
 weret iemer. Kerta gerihtennis ist dines riches kerta, etc. 
 See Hattemer, "Denkmale," etc., II. \^6 et seq. 
 
 70. Page 69. Mush, as an article of food, was so 
 customary at S. Gall that it did not enter into Gero's 
 mind to translate the word cibi (food) by anything else 
 than mush {mus), and the word ccenare (to eat) by any- 
 thing else than evening-mush {Abendmusen). I. v. Arx, 
 "Gesch."I. 178. 
 
 71. Page 69. " Regula S. Benedicti," c. 39, *' De 
 Mensura Cibi." 
 
 72. Page 70. Ilanch prcrcellat allcmannicus et mala 
 pellat. See Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., III. 599. (In 
 MS. 393, especially designated as the " Liber Benedic- 
 tionum," there is enumerated such an abundant menu of
 
 NOTES 309 
 
 fish — graylings, lampreys, and others — that one lays it 
 down with a sense of perfect security so far as regards 
 the condition of the monastery kitchen on fast-days. 
 Would that it might, by means of an unexpurgated edi- 
 tion, be brought before a still wider circle of gastronomi- 
 co-philological readers !) 
 
 73. Page 70. Suetonius, in his "Life of Augustus," 
 c. ']']. However, the Emperor, even on that sad day, 
 did not drink more than a sextarhis — about six glasses. 
 
 74. Page 71. "Regula S. Benedicti," c. 40, " De 
 Mensura Potus." 
 
 75. Page 72. Whether the abbot was right in thus 
 assailing the German language as it was spoken at that 
 time may remain in question. It has undergone radical 
 change since his day ; the larger part of the strong, pithy 
 words arising from a constant contact with nature, as 
 well as the full, harmonious forms, have disappeared and 
 given place to a fresher varnished and more polished 
 mode of speech. But to us, when we read the stiff but 
 noble German writings of the old Notker, it is as if we 
 felt a breath of spicy mountain air, and of genuine vener- 
 able poesy, interrupted by no harsh, discordant, sparrow- 
 chirping or raven-croaking in it. 
 
 76. Page 74. " Vita S. Benedicti Abbatis a Gregorio 
 Magno Romano Pontifice Conscripta," c. 2, "De Tenta- 
 tione Carnis Superata." 
 
 77. Page 75. ... de voluntate ipsitcs cum eo pridie 
 secreta condixerat. Ekkeh. " Casus S. Galli," c. 10. 
 
 78. Page 76. Tutilo's Robber Story : see Ekkeh. IV. 
 "Casus S. Galli," c. 10. 
 
 79. Page 77. Notker Labeo's essay — see Hattemer, 
 " Denkmale," etc., III. 586 et seq. — throws much light on 
 the musical instruments of that time, and the state of 
 music at S. Gall. The description of the instrument in 
 this place is based on the pictorial representation in
 
 3IO NOTES 
 
 Notker's Psalmbook (MS. XXI. in the S. Gall Library). 
 One of the pages, containing the two pen and ink 
 sketches which form the frontispiece of the book, rep- 
 resents King David sitting on his throne, and playing 
 a seven-stringed lyre with a plectron. In the four cor- 
 ners stand four men \\ith violin, zither, dulcimer, and 
 harp. By the care with which these otherwise deli- 
 cately conceived figures are executed, it is evident that 
 the artist did not trust to his imagination, but copied 
 what was before his eyes. 
 
 80. Page 77. . . . qucc aiitem Tiitilo dictaverat, sin- 
 gularis et agiioscibilis nidodice sunt, quia per psalterium 
 seu per rohtam, qua potentior ipse erat, neurnata (i. e. vo- 
 cum viodulatjones) inventa dulciora sunt. Ekkeh. IV. 
 "S. Gain," c. 3. 
 
 81. Page "]"]. quid vero dies ilia consiinipserit, Dotninus 
 solus novit. 
 
 82. Page 77. cigneo cnuore dulcior sonus. 
 
 83. Page 78. alpina siqtiidern corpora vocum suanim 
 tonitruis a It is one perstrepentia susceptiz modulationis dulce- 
 dijiem proprie non restdtant. qicia bibidi gutiuris barbara 
 feritas, dum injiexionibus et repercussionibus 7nitem nititur 
 edere cafztilena7/i, tiaturali qtiodam fragore quasi plaustra 
 per gradus confuse sonantia rigidas voces iactat. A musical 
 amateur of S. Gall, who chanced afterwards to read this 
 Italian criticism, wrote on the margin : vide iactantiain 
 rotnaniscafn in teutojies et gallos, that is to say : " Behold 
 here a piece of Roman impertinence directed against 
 the Germans and French." See Hattemer, " Denkmale," 
 etc., I. 420. 
 
 84. Page 80. Guest friends, according to mediaeval 
 usage, took leave of each other with exchange of gifts, 
 kisses, and a parting cup. These formalities were 
 strictly observed. Bishop Salomo of Constance, when 
 he invited the Kamtnerbotcn, or messengers of the Ex-
 
 NOTES 311 
 
 chequer, to a banquet, presented them with costly glass 
 goblets ; and although they bore rancor in their hearts, 
 and flung the goblets on the floor, smashing them into 
 flinders, nevertheless the parting kiss and stirrup-cup 
 were interchanged: ar?ioreque, tit inoris est, osculato et 
 epoto Icztabiindi discedunt. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. Galli," 
 c. I, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 84. See, also, " Ruodlieb," 
 Fragm. III. v. 221. A delightful description of such 
 courtesies is given in the twenty-seventh adventure of 
 the Niebelungenlied, where King Gunther and his men 
 take leave of the Margrave of Bechelaren. Women, 
 also, did not think it derogatory to their dignity to give 
 their guests a farewell kiss on their departure. 
 
 85. Page 80. Such a show-piece is minutely described 
 in the Ruodlieb, P'ragm. III. v. 309 et seq. 
 
 86. Page 82. Titlepage inscriptions of this kind, 
 similar to those traditionally scribbled by children in 
 their school-books, are frequently found in the MSS. of 
 those days. 
 
 87. Page 83. This Psalmbook, the S. Gall ''Liber 
 Sancti Galli Aureus," is still one of the jewels of the 
 monastery library. The miniatures, glittering in bright 
 colors, show a dexterous hand, and are full of motives 
 borrowed from the antique ; there is good understanding 
 of drapery and figure, and a certain free and artistic 
 boldness of touch and delicacy of color-sense. The 
 initials, decorated with rich arabesques, and the archi- 
 tectural details framing the pictures, give us insight 
 into the forms of contemporary buildings, the monu- 
 mental vestiges of which have become so rare. There 
 are also to be seen the first steps in the decoration 
 of the walls in ecclesiastical buildings with frescos. 
 A certain abbot Immo caused a number of episodes 
 from the life of S. Gallus to be painted on the walls of 
 the cathedral ; it is stated that subsequently an abbot
 
 312 NOTES 
 
 Manegold had a picture de materia genealogicce Christi, 
 and also a "Last Judgment" in mtcro bonis coloribiis. 
 See "Casuum S. Galli II. Continuatio," c. 8. Pertz, 
 " Monum." II. i6i. lid. v. Arx, " Geschichte des Kantons 
 St. Gallen," I. 237. The wall paintings of the Reiche- 
 nau monastery are belauded by Burkhard, in Pertz, 
 " Monum." IV. 629. 
 
 88. Page 84. " Vocabularius Sancti Galli," invalu- 
 able to the philologist on account of its store of old 
 High German words, is still extant, and has been many 
 times reprinted ; e. g in Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., 
 I. 11-14. 
 
 89. Page 85. This precious memorial from the time 
 of Louis the Pious is also in the possession of the S. 
 Gall Library. Cf. Keller, " Der Bauriss des Klosters 
 Sankt Gallen." 
 
 90. Page 85. ... Thieto ca7ninatani qiia7ida7n "vete- 
 rum seniorum angtihtni " vocatam introiit. Ekkeh. IV. 
 "Casus S. Galli," c. 6. Pertz, "Monum." II. 112. Cf. 
 also, II. 135. 
 
 91. Page 89. The history of Bishop Salomo and his 
 controversy with the Kamviei-boten has been told so 
 often that it is now rather hackneyed. The circum- 
 stances, which have grown evidently somewhat legendary, 
 are described by Ekkehard IV. in his " Casus S. Galli," 
 c. I. A singer of the Suabian school worked it over 
 into a series of ballads, etc. 
 
 92. Page 89. digneris, domine, et hos benedicere fustes 
 . . . Benedictio ad capsellas et baailos ad iter agentes in 
 MS. 395- 
 
 93. Page 91. Ermenrici ccenobitce angiensis tejitajnen, 
 etc., in Pertz, "Monum." II. 32. The author of the 
 greater annals of S. Gall also calls the Reichenau a 
 hortiis deliciariim. See Pertz, " Monum." I. 79. 
 
 94. Page 92. The object of religious worship which
 
 NOTES 313 
 
 brought punishment on the fishermen of Erwatingen 
 seems to have been the bronze idol, which was consid- 
 ered a Hercules alemaiinicus, and which, according to the 
 account of Gallus Oheim, was still standing on the 
 mound of the Egino. It had such a powerful attraction 
 over that renowned antiquarian, the Emperor Max L, 
 that he had no hesitation in carrying it off and setting it 
 up at Innsbruck, just as he had carried off the Nep- 
 tunus from the City Gate at Ettlingen. (Bader, " Das 
 bad. Land und Volk," I. 329.) According to a note in 
 G. Schwab's " Bodensee," 11. 239, it was in the Museum 
 of Antiquities of the Kurpfaltz, or Palatinate. 
 
 95. Page 93. benedictio vini 7iovi. MS. 395. 
 
 96. Page 93. . . . eraiit autem dies vindemicB, qtiibtis 
 fratres'ad obedient ias (i. e. labores in agro) dimissi sunt per 
 vineas. Ekkeh. "Casus S. Galli," c. 3. Pertz, "Monum." 
 II. 97. 
 
 97. Page 94. " Regula S. Benedicti," c. 31, "De Cel- 
 lerario Monasterii qualis sit." 
 
 98. Page 95. See " Die Edda," translated by Simrock, 
 p. 14. 
 
 99. Page 96. . . . at ilia de camera egressa sahttans 
 conpatrem, hospitem ilhiin dormire putans, optiilit viro mtcs- 
 lum, quo ille impigre hausto vaseque reddito matnmam fx- 
 tnitice titillat assentientis. Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. Galli," 
 c. 3. 
 
 100. Page 97. . . , hospesverovisofacinoreexilit, ilium 
 scelestum inclamitans, coinis apprehensum in terram dejicity 
 flagelloque^ quo ad equum usus est, adhuc mamt habito 
 acritcr hominem cecidit adjiciens: " hoc, inquit, tibi Sa7tctus 
 Gallus, S. Albani Frater, dedit ! " Ekkeh IV. "Casus S. 
 Galli," c. 3. Pertz, " Monum." II. 97. . 
 
 101. Page 97. dura viris et dura fide, durissima glcba ! 
 Notker. 
 
 102. Page 97. Protospathar : Commander of the body-
 
 314 NOTES 
 
 guard. See Gibbon, " History of the Roman Empire," 
 
 c. 53- 
 
 103. Page lOi. . . . cegre exspectatus. 
 
 104. Page I02. . . . fo7'tunate, ait, qui tarn pulchram 
 discipulam doce^e habes gratnmaticatfi ! ad quod ille, quasi 
 caro assensu subridens, talia in aiirem adversaria reddit 
 amico: sicut et tu, sancte Domini, Kotelindam monialem 
 pulchram discipulam caram docuisti quidejn dialecticavi. 
 dictoque citius, cum ille nescio quid resibilare vellet, ab eo 
 divertefts, equo ascenso indignanter abivit. Ekkeh. IV. 
 " Casus S. Galli," c. lo, Pertz, II. 124. 
 
 105. Page 104. The practice of hunting was dis- 
 tinctly contrary to ecclesiastical discipline. An Augs- 
 burg Synod in 952 (Pertz, " Monum." IV. 27) expressly 
 forbids bishops and the clergy from indulging in dicing 
 and the pleasures of the chase, particularly with dogs and 
 falcons, on pain of deposition. 
 
 106. Page 104. sticmata : pictura. in corpore, quales 
 Scotti pinginit. Gloss of a S. Gall MS. in Hattemer, 
 " Denkmale," etc., I. 227 and 233. The custom of painting 
 the eyelids and tattooing the arms seems at that time to 
 have been a favorite one among the Scotch and Irish. The 
 pictures thus etched in may have been of coarse, almost 
 incomprehensible ugliness, as may be safely concluded 
 from the miniatures of Irish origin preserved among the 
 MSS. They bear a strange, and — if the term is permis- 
 sible — a repulsive Keltic expression, comparing also in 
 their wholly barbarous style of delineation most unfavor- 
 ably with the contemporary work of German origin. The 
 Christ on the crucifix with his horseshoe-shaped ara- 
 besque-like beard and oddly distorted mouth, and the 
 Evangelists portrayed in the guise of animals give a dis- 
 tinct impression of fetichism. 
 
 107. Page 106. Silver money long consisted of a 
 sheet, thin as a leaf, and bearing on one side only a
 
 NOTES 315 
 
 coarse deep stamp — minimi bradeali, I. von Arx, " Ge- 
 schichten," etc., I. 451. 
 
 108. Page 106. They prefer being hunters rather 
 than teachers, bemg bold rather than mild, crafty rather 
 than single-hearted. . . . They play with vain whirling toys, 
 and do not even shun the dice-box. They go about in- 
 dustriously with the chessboard instead of the Scrip- 
 tures, with quoits instead of books. They know better 
 what a miss costs you than what salvation demands, for- 
 bids, or promises, better what a successful throw brings 
 than what thanks they owe to God. . . . They have them- 
 selves made silver bowls, cups of great costliness, tank- 
 ards {crater es), yea, verily even drinking-horns {conchos) 
 of great weight, and of a size repugnant to every age. 
 They decorate their wine-jars and drinking-vessels while 
 the neighboring basilica is full of soot." Vogel, " Rathe- 
 rius of Verona, and the Xth Century," I. p. 44. 
 
 109. Page 106. Moengal's Latin is rather wild. But 
 when even bishops, even in the Court tongue, make use 
 of such classic expressions as : sic omnes perriparrii pos- 
 siint bnbjis agricolaiitibiis vetrenere (thus all peasants while 
 ploughing may roar at their oxen), and when historians 
 put them into their text (Monachus San Gall., " Gesta 
 Karoli," 1. 19, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 739), a parish priest 
 may be allowed to exercise some discretion in his Latin ! 
 
 110. Page 108. .. . Moejtgaly postea a nostris Marcellus 
 diminutive a Marco avuncido sic nominaius, hie erat in 
 divinis et humanis eriiditissimtcs, etc. . . . See the whole 
 story of his visit at the monastery in Ekkeh. " Casus 
 S. Galli," c. I, Pertz, II. 78. 
 
 111. Page 109. . . . in campanariwn S. Galli per gradus 
 ad hoc qtiidem nobis paratos ascendere incipit, nti oculis, quia 
 gressu 7ion lictiit, mofttes cainposque circufnspiciens, vel sic 
 animo suo vago satisfaceret. Ekkeh. " Casus S. Galli," c. 3, 
 Pertz, " Monum." II. 99.
 
 3l6 AZOTES 
 
 112. Page no. Moengal was right. Not long ago a 
 learned son of Erin's green isle made a pilgrimage to the 
 library of S. Gall to examine and transcribe the work of 
 his pious compatriot. Then they brought to him the 
 copy of Priscianus in its binding of black velvet, and he 
 began the work ; but soon a muffled burst of laughter 
 surprised the librarians in the great hall, and when they 
 came over to him, the rector of Dublin translated the 
 Irish glosses to the Latin as follows : — 
 
 Thank God^ it will soon be dark! 
 
 St. Patrick of Armagh, deliver me from writing! 
 
 O that a glass of old wine were by my side ! 
 
 Such was Moengal's work of translation ! 
 
 113. Page 114. The cry of the quail seems to have 
 had to the ears of mediaeval huntsmen a somewhat differ- 
 ent sound from what it has to us of the present day; 
 for the word quakkara wherewith the monk of S. Gall 
 (" . . . quakaras etiam et alia volatilia,^' " Gesta Karoli," I, 
 19, in Pertz, II. 739) designates the quail, instead of using 
 the classical cotiirnix, is evidently intended to be onomato- 
 poetic, giving the sound of the quail's voice. This ex- 
 cellent writer, in whom posterity has to honor one of the 
 founders of hunting-Lafin, may have gone out on hunt- 
 ing expeditions after quail and " other birds,"as often as 
 any author of later times. In glosses to the S. Gall 
 MSS. the quail is also called quasqicila and qiiatala. See 
 Hattemer, " Denkmale," etc., 246, etc. 
 
 114. Page 117. Not without reason. Herr Luitfried 
 attacked the Bishop with drawn sword and overwhelm- 
 ing him with insulting words : after his uncles had re- 
 strained him and taken council what to do with their 
 prisoner, he stipulated that either his eyes should be put 
 out, or his right hand cut off. On the way to the Thiet-
 
 NOTES 317 
 
 poldsburg the ecclesiastical princes were compelled to 
 kiss the feet of some passing swineherds ; and so on. 
 
 115. Page 118. . . , paratur citissime lavacrtim, tit pul- 
 verc et lassiticdinis tergeretur sitdore. Ekkeh. IV. "Casus 
 S. Galli," c. I, Pertz, " Monum." II. 86. 
 
 116. Page 121. commoditas talentiini valet I (ancient 
 monastic proverb). 
 
 117. Page 127. . . . duelliuni die condicto ctim cegre ex- 
 spectatus veniret, tiUra quani ipse vellet siiscepticm in con- 
 clave siio proximictn, stczttn, tit ipsa ait, Tnanu dux it magis- 
 triitn. ibi node et die cum familiari aliqtia inirare solebat 
 ad legenduvi pedissequa,foribtis tamen semper apertis, tit, si 
 quis etiam ausus quid esset, nihil quod diceret, sinistrum 
 haberet. . illic quoqtie crebro ambos ministri et milites, prin- 
 cipes etiam. terrce, lectiojti aut consiliis invenerunt agentes. 
 Ekkeh. "Casus S. GalH," c. 10, in Pertz, "Monum." II. 
 123. 
 
 118. Page 135. See Grimm, "Deutsche Rechtsalter- 
 tumer," i. Aufl. p. 339. 
 
 119. Page 140. See Grimm, " Deutsche Mythologie," 
 3. Ausg. p. 695. 
 
 120. Page 150. .. . vasque magnum, quod vulgo cupam 
 vocant, quod viginti et sex modios amplius minusve capicbat, 
 cerevisia plenum in medio habebant positum" " Vita S. 
 Columbani." 
 
 121. Page 151. Ausonius, " Idyll," 7. 
 
 122. Page 151. The Alemanni-Swabian heathendom 
 was based on a naive worship of Nature. " They honor 
 trees, running streams, hills and mountain-chasms. They 
 cut off the heads of horses, cattle, and many other ani- 
 mals, and bring them to these as battle offerings," writes 
 the Greek Agathias in the sixth century, comparing 
 the Alemannians with the Christian Franks. " Pray 
 to no idols, neither to rocks nor to trees, neither to 
 solitary places nor to springs, and perform not your
 
 3l8 NOTES 
 
 devotions or your vows on the' cross-ways," preaches 
 S. Perminius, founder of the Reichenau, two hundred 
 years later. Any one who knows how obstinately the 
 peasant clings to the traditions of hoary antiquity, and 
 how even now many of his ordinary customs closely 
 resemble heathen sacrifices, will not be surprised to come 
 across a nocturnal beer-drinking conventicle in the tenth 
 century, differing little if at all from those which were 
 frequent in the time of S. Columban. It may remain an 
 open question whether a prevailing custom of common 
 drinking at German high schools, and kno\^ai under the 
 name of eine7i Salamaiiderreiben, with ceremonies some- 
 what similar to those here described, but as yet never 
 satisfactorily explained, may not go back in its origin to 
 ancient heathen drink-offerings ; but science is a unit in 
 regard to the fact that " through the religious significance 
 of drinking a surprising connection is brought about 
 between many other customs." 
 
 123. Page 153. The stone quarries on the so-called 
 Schienmer Berg, as well as those in the Oningen, later 
 became famous for their petrifactions, especially for 
 curious remains of birds. It will be remembered that 
 the skeleton of a giant Salamander was exhumed there, 
 and that the learned investigator Scheuchzer in 1726 
 regarded it as a fossil man : it was Cuvier who pointed 
 out the true organization of this "proof of the Flood." 
 Cf. Burmeister, " Geschichte der Schopfung, " 5. Auflage, 
 p. 518. 
 
 124. Page 155. "Vita Sancti Galli," Lib. I. in 
 Pertz, "Monum." II. 7. 
 
 125. Page 155. The duchess here shares the same 
 practical theories of proselyting as Pope Gregory the 
 Great in his time formulated in a missive to Abbot 
 Mellitus, and the Archbishop Augustinus of England : 
 " Tell Augustinus," he says, " that after long pondering
 
 NOTES 319 
 
 over the conversion of the English, I have come to the 
 conclusion that the heathen temples among these people 
 should not be destroyed, but that only the idols therein 
 should be annihilated ; that the buildings should then be 
 sprinkled with holy water, altars built and relics placed 
 in them. For if those temples are well built, they must 
 be con'\ferted from idolatrous practices to the service of 
 true divine worship, in order that the people, seeing that 
 their temples are not destroyed, may put their errors out 
 of their hearts, recognize the true God, and, with all the 
 greater alacrity, assemble in the places so familiar to 
 them. And since the people are in the habit of sacrific- 
 ing many oxen to their idols, this custom also must be 
 converted into a Christian festival. Accordingly, on the 
 day of the Church consecration or on the festival of the 
 holy martyrs whose relics are deposited in their churches, 
 they must make sheds of branches around the former 
 heathen temples, and celebrate with religious banquets, 
 no longer offering animals to the Devil, but slaughtering 
 them for food to the honor of God, in order to thank the 
 Giver of all things for their blessings, so that while a few 
 outward joys are left to them, they may be the more 
 disposed to inward joys. For it is doubtless impracti- 
 cable all at once to cut off everything from unrefined 
 minds, and because even he who will mount to the highest 
 degrees attains his end l)y slow steps, not by springing 
 into the air." See Mone, " Geschichte des Heiden- 
 tums," etc., II. 105. 
 
 126, Page 158. The nailing up of horses' skulls was 
 a very ancient custom among the Germans. The Roman 
 legions led by Caecina into the depths of the Teutoburg- 
 erwald — the Salhis Teiitobiirgiensis — for the purpose of 
 paying the last rites to those who fell in the slaughter of 
 Varus [b. c. 9] were shocked at the sight of the skulls 
 of the sacrificed Romans nailed to the oak-tree boles and
 
 320 
 
 NOTES 
 
 grinning do>vn at the bleaching skeletons of the fallen 
 warriors and the battle altars. Tacitus, " Annal." I. 
 6i. 
 
 127. Page 159. The " Lex Salica " (ed. Merkel), c. 58, 
 describes the noteworthy custom that when the Ckrene 
 Chruda was thrown on the nearest solvent kinsman, 
 this person was obliged to assume the payment of the 
 Wehrgeld for the murder committed by the insolvent 
 culprit. No very satisfactory explanation has as yet 
 been given of the term Chretie Chriida. An attempt has 
 been made to translate it hy gri'aics Kraut {grecii grass) 
 or according to Grimm's " Rechtsaltertiimer," p. 116, by 
 reines ICraut (clean grass), because the evacuation of a 
 piece of land, or the transfer of a field to another, either 
 by purchase or as a security, was symbolically represented 
 by the conveyance of a grass-grown clod or a piece of 
 sod. But according to the Salic law what was thrown 
 was earth collected from the four corners of the room 
 where no herb grew. See Walter, "Deutsche Rechts- 
 geschichte," § 443. Since, moreover, this custom is de- 
 monstrably on record among the Salfranks and even 
 there was very early done away with (" Lex Salica nov." 
 262, 263, 264), it remains rather obscure how the same 
 could have been made valid in Alemannia in the tenth 
 century, 
 
 128. Page 161. Many bad results were attributed to 
 the "evil eye" of witches; it could make infants con- 
 sumptive, tear clothing to tatters, kill snakes, frighten 
 wolves, hatch ostrich eggs, bring on leprosy, etc., etc. 
 As protection against such "fascinating" glances, people 
 were accustomed to carry \vith them the paw of the 
 common blind mole. See Grimm, " Deutsche Mytholo- 
 gie," p. 1053. 
 
 129. Page 162. . . . si qiiis mulierem ^^ stria" clama- 
 verit et noit potuerit adprobare, etc., " Lex Salica," c. 64.
 
 NOTES 321 
 
 130. Page 171. 
 
 Din got, der ist ein jimger tbr^ 
 ich -will glotiben an den alien, 
 
 St. Oswald. 
 
 131. Page 1S2. Folchardi codex aureus (MS. of the 
 S. Gall Library), p. 75. 
 
 132. Page 185. "A history of German cakes and rolls 
 {Kiichen nnd Semmeln) could not be concocted without 
 unexpected results." Grimm, " Deutsche Mythologie," 
 3d ed., p. 56. 
 
 133. Page 193. Fair Reader, hast thou never in the 
 silent loneliness of midnight occupied thyself in shufHing 
 cards, or melting lead, or casting lots, in the hope of get- 
 ting an inkling of thy future lover } All these means of 
 prognosticating coming events are vestiges of hoary 
 heathendom. — So also the Chamberlain Spazzo's ascent 
 of the tower seems to have had a similar object. It was 
 not an unusual thing for persons on New Year's Eve to 
 put on their swords and mount to the roof of the house 
 in order to read the future. See Grimm, " Mythol." 
 p. 1070. 
 
 134. Page 195. . . . sacratos noctis venerabilis hymnos. 
 
 135. Page 196. Concerning the prominent counts 
 and noble families at that time, see Stalin, *' Geschichte 
 von Wirtemberg," I. 544 et seq. 
 
 136. Page 196. nova stella appariiit insolitce magtii- 
 tndinis, aspectii fiilgicrans et ocnios verberans non sine 
 terrore. " Annales S. Gallenses Maiores," in Pertz, 
 •' Monum." I. 8. 
 
 137. Page 196. See Berthold,"Der Heerwurm,gebildet 
 aus Larven der Thomas-Trauermiicke," Gottingen, 1854. 
 
 138. Page 197. The pious superstition respecting the 
 immediate approach of the Day of Judgment, and the 
 consequent end of the world, was very widespread in 
 Karolingian and later times. Many men of high and 
 
 VOL. I. — 21
 
 322 NOTES 
 
 low degree felt called upon to make gifts to the Church 
 as a means for their souls' salvation, niimdi tcr?ni;iiim 
 appropiiiquaiitem ruinis crebrescentibus Jafn certa sigfia 
 manifestant. Thus begins a deed of donation quoted on 
 p. 43S of " Mone's Anzeiger," 1S3S. 
 
 139. Page 198. From the beginning of the ninth 
 century to the second half of the tenth, the incursions 
 of the Huns were justly regarded as one of the regular 
 calamities to which the German provinces were exposed. 
 North and South suffered from their visits. Contempo- 
 rary historians call them sometimes Avars or Agarenes, 
 sometimes Hungarians (the latter name being in popular 
 etymology derived from the hunger which drove them 
 oiit of the Steppes of Pannonia . . . intmmerabilis eorion 
 crevit exercitus et a fatne, quam patiebantur, Hungri 
 "vocati sunt. " Epistola Remigii " in Martene, collect. I. 
 234). Still more often they were called Huns, although 
 their derivation from the Hun King Etzel, or Attila, by 
 no means belongs to the established facts of history. 
 We have called them Huns in our narrative. 
 
 A circumstantial description of this strange nation of 
 horsemen is given by Regino in his " Chronicon. ad ann. 
 8S9 " (Pertz, " Monum." I. 600). The picture which he 
 gives of these fierce, all-devastating monsters, who lived 
 in their saddles, and kept up their strength and courage 
 by devouring the hearts of their enemies, leaves a frightful 
 impression on the mind ; and would arouse a still deeper 
 sentiment of pity for those who suffered from their in- 
 cursions if it were not for the fact that it is for the most 
 part a literal transcription from the second and third 
 chapters of the forty-first book of the History of Jus- 
 tinus, who characterizes the Scythians in that way. The 
 repeated raids into the Alemannian land are mentioned 
 in the " Alaman. Annalen," in Pertz, " Monum." I. 54; the 
 victory on the Inn won over them by the Kammerboten
 
 NOTES 323 
 
 and the Argengaugraf Ulrich in the " Annales S. Gal- 
 lenses Maior." in Pertz, " Monum." I. 77. 
 
 140. Page 202. See G. Schwab, " Der Bodensee nebst 
 dem Rheinthale," Teil II. 
 
 141. Page 203. These words of Ekkehard are in 
 harmony with the common Alemannian law, which was 
 well known to the monks of S. Gall, and yet they 
 seem to rest on a certain misunderstanding. In tit. 99, 
 No. 22 (ed. Lindenbrog), the following definition is to be 
 found: — 
 
 " When a strange dog has killed a man, its owTier shall 
 pay half Wehrgeld to the relatives of the defunct. If 
 the family of the victim demand the whole Wehrgeld, 
 then it must be allowed, but only on this condition, that 
 all approaches to the house save one are to be closed, 
 that they shall for all time use this one door for entrance 
 and egress, and that over this door the vicious dog shall 
 be hanged, and remain hanged at a height of nine feet 
 until it shall have rotted and its bones have fallen apart. 
 If the inhabitants of the house attempt to get rid of the 
 dead dog or to enter l)y some other way, they shall forfeit 
 the half Wehrgeld already paid, and be debarred from all 
 further claim." 
 
 This statute, which goes back to a very remote antiquity, 
 has for its foundation-motive to attach a certain stigma 
 upon the relatives, who might be altogether too grasping 
 in their claims against the innocent owner of the dog, and 
 to restrain them from claiming the utmost damages which 
 the law formally allowed in the case of a violent death. 
 The ancient Norse law had a similar provision. See 
 Grimm, " Rechtsaltertiimer," p. 665. 
 
 142. Page 207. Medical science in our day no longer 
 makes use of these and similar remedies. They are 
 based partially on the theory that diseases are attribu- 
 table to the influence of demons. Many, however, of
 
 324 NOTES 
 
 the official prescriptions of that day, are still found in 
 the so-called "sympathetic remedies," which by an un- 
 broken tradition going back through long generations of 
 peasants, shepherds, and smiths, who even at the present 
 obstinately pin their faith to them, have their origin in 
 the remotest darkness of heathendom. How a remedy 
 similar to that above mentioned was accompanied by 
 excellent results is told- us by the French historian, 
 Gregory of Tours, in his book on the Miracles of S. 
 Martinus, from his own experiences : " In the second 
 month after his ordination as bishop, he was so severely 
 attacked by dysentery that his life was despaired of. 
 When every remedy remained ineffectual, he caused 
 some dust from the grave of the saint to be brought, 
 took it in a decoction about the third hour of the day, 
 and was so immediately relieved that about three hours 
 later he went to his dinner." Lobell, " Gregor von Tours 
 und seine Zeit," p. 277. 
 
 An expert physician would certainly find many inter- 
 esting facts regarding the science of medicine in the 
 past, in the " Tractatus Insignis Medicinalis " of the S. 
 Gall MS. 105. 
 
 143. Page 207. . . . nihil fame iviprobrius et sacy-itis ! 
 
 144. Page 208. At least G. Schwab, in his work on 
 the Rodensee, reckons among the " notable things of 
 Sipplingen," under No. 3, " The Sipplinger wine as the 
 worst on the Lake." Of late, however, the juice of the 
 grape there has become considerably better than its 
 reputation ! 
 
 145. Page 208. See Einhardi, " Vita Karoli Magni," 
 c. 13, in Pertz, " Monum." II. p. 449. 
 
 146. Page 209. See Gibbon, " History of the Roman 
 Empire," c. 35. 
 
 147. Page 210. ^^scitis" inquit, '^ o fideles mei, quid 
 tantopere ploraverim ? " " non hoc,'" ait, " timeo, quod isti
 
 NOTES 325 
 
 migceet nihili mihi aliquid nocere prcBvaleant: sed nimirum 
 contristor, quod me vivente ausi sunt litus istiid attingere, et 
 maximo dolore torqiteor, quia prcevideo, quanta mala pos- 
 teris meis et eortim sunt facturi subjectis." " Monachi S. 
 Gallens. Gesta Karoli," II. 22, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 
 
 757- 
 
 148. Page 211. This conception of the much-dis- 
 cussed and significant coronation at Rome, on Christmas 
 Eve, 800, of Charlemagne as emperor, and protector of 
 the Romish Church, corresponds to the idea which con- 
 temporaries had of • the affair. The pope, who was 
 anxious to be rid of the burdensome protectorate and 
 oversight of his Byzantine suzerains, had his settled 
 plan, even if he did not comprehend the whole wide- 
 sweeping consequences of the event. On the part of the 
 French monarch, the assumption of this imperial dignity 
 was an act of usurpation against the more legitimate 
 Byzantines, and it is easy to explain why the narrators 
 assert that he would never on that day have set foot 
 across the doorsill of St. Peter's, if he could have pene- 
 trated the pope's designs. See " Monachus San Gallen- 
 sis," and "Einhardi Vita Karoli Magni," cap. 16 and 28. 
 
 149. Page 212. See Hincmar von Rheims, Annals, 
 ad ann. 862, in Pertz, "Monum." I. 458. 
 
 150. Page 214. See the chronicle of the Lame Her- 
 mann of Reichenau, ad a7in. 888, in Pertz, " Monum." 
 V. 109. 
 
 151. Page 215. ... vel, ut perturbatores reipublicce dig- 
 num est pati, usque ad cinerem concreviati et in omnem 
 ventum dispersi cum nominibus vel potius ignominia et 
 memoria sua condemnentur in secula ! " Erchanberti Bre- 
 viarium, ad ann. 880," in Pertz, " Monum." II. 330. 
 
 152. Page 217. The figure of the old man of the 
 Heidenhohle might give rise to some historic doubts. 
 All the indications point to Karl the Fat, but he had
 
 326 NOTES 
 
 been certainly dead for some time, before the first hour 
 of the tenth century struck. But what history cuts apart 
 legend puts together again ; and as it once provided a 
 place for the Ostgothic Dietrich of Bern in the Niebe- 
 lungenlied, to which he has no provable claims, judging 
 by his historical precedents, so in the same way it has 
 been pleased to remove the last representative of the 
 Carolingian dynasty to a quiet place, and to confer upon 
 him a character for righteousness which his contempo- 
 aries denied to him. 
 
 A rumor that the old emperor did not die a natural 
 death, but was strangled by his enemies, is mentioned by 
 the monk of Vaast in his chronicles, in Pertz, " Monum." 
 II. 203. But the people who kept in their hearts a very 
 different picture of him from that which partisan hatred 
 delineated with distorted features for the benefit of pos- 
 terity, and who found no reason in the misery which set 
 in during the next decade for hailing his deposition as the 
 dawn of better things, clung to the firm belief, especially 
 in Alemannia, that he was not dead but that he, like 
 many another hero both in earlier and later times, was 
 living concealed in some cavern, waiting for the right 
 moment to emerge again and grasp the reins of power. 
 Many revolts in Alemannia against the emperor who 
 mounted the throne after the fall of Karl der Dicke 
 bore witness to the love which was felt for his deposed 
 ancestor. 
 
 Modern history, also, is beginning to recognize the 
 true grounds of the deposition, and the wrongs after- 
 wards perpetrated upon the fat emperor, and it is granted 
 that the machinations of the higher clergy, who at that 
 time were deeply engaged in the introduction into Ger- 
 many of the pseudo-isodorian ecclesiastical law, and who 
 needed an emperor complaisant to their arbitrary en- 
 deavors, were in large measure responsible for that
 
 NOTES 
 
 327 
 
 deposition. See Gfrorer, " Geschichte der ost- und west- 
 frankischen Karolinger," II. 293. 
 
 153. Page 217. 
 
 " fortis jtivcntus^ virtus audax bcllica, 
 vestra per muros audiantur carmina^ 
 et sit in armis alterna vigilia, 
 ne fraus hostilis hcBC invadat moenia. 
 restcltat echo comes : eja, vigila ! 
 per muros eja dicat echo vigila ! " 
 
 Danger teaches the making of verses ! The song of the 
 night guards of Modena, the complete text of which is 
 given by Muratori in his " Antiq. Ital." III. 709, equals 
 in its warmth and rhythmical swing the war-songs of any 
 time. A gong of petition, in the same metre, asking 
 S. Germinianus for protection and aid against the Huns, 
 is to be found in Muratori, '' Antiq. Ital." I, 22. 
 
 154. Page 218. The people were summoned and 
 gathered together by the erection of the banner. It was 
 customary in the North in the case of hostile invasion to 
 send a messenger in all haste to collect the people by 
 means of an arrow, heror, the Heerpfeil. See Grimm, 
 " Rechtsaltertiimer," 161, 162. [English readers will re- 
 call the celebrated summons in Scott's " Lady of the 
 Lake," Canto III.] 
 
 155. Page 220. Walafrid Strabo, abbot of the Reich- 
 enau, a much-lauded poet of the Carolingian epoch. 
 Many of his Latin poems are permeated by a tender spirit, 
 which recalls the elegiac writers of antiquity. Among 
 them there is to be found a description of his monastery 
 garden, and also an elegy to his mistress {ad amicani), 
 and it is to this that Simon Bardo's utterance seems to 
 refer. The beginning of the last-mentioned poem is 
 certainly very delicate : — 
 
 When with her mild sweet beams the moon through the azure is 
 shining,
 
 328 NOTES 
 
 Then, O friend of my heart, look up through the night unto 
 
 heaven ; 
 Do not forget how her light so pure from those regions is pouring 
 Down o^er the earth, and embracing tis doth in her sweet bene- 
 faction ; 
 Both, — though far apart we may be, yet in love are ez'er together. 
 Attd tho7igh my eyes may never again see the eyes of iny mistress. 
 Still will the moon remaitt as a pledge of our tnarriage undying. 
 
 156. Page 220. Greek fire, a mixture of naphtha, 
 sulphur, and pitch, inextinguishable in water, as early as 
 the year 716 performed good services against the Sara- 
 cens when they were besieging Constantinople, and in 941 
 saved the capital from a Russian fleet, which under Igor, 
 the son of Rurik, threatened to accomplish the then cur- 
 rent prophecy that " the Russians in the last days would 
 become masters of Constantinople." The use of it grew 
 into a regular art of artillery, and was preserved by the 
 Greek emperors as a weighty State secret. The French 
 crusaders, led by St. Louis to the East, describe with 
 genuine horror the appearance of the destructive mis- 
 siles. See Joinville, " Histoirede St. Louis," Paris, 1668, 
 
 P- 39- 
 
 157. Page 222. . . . ipse vclut Domini gigatis lorica 
 induttis, cucullafu superinduens et stolam, ipsos eadeinfacere 
 jubet : '^'^ contra diaholum, ait, fratres mei, quam hactenus 
 animis in Deo confisi piignaverinius, ut nunc manibiis os- 
 tendere valeamus, ab ipso petamus.'" Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. 
 Galli," c. 3, Pertz, II. 104. 
 
 158. Page 222. Jornandes, " De Rebus Geticis," c. 24. 
 
 159. Page 223. . . . tollcnsque mami sua de pallia suo 
 Jilum projecit in terrain et dixit : " ecce in testimonium per- 
 fectcB remissionis filum de pallia meo prajicio in terram, ut 
 cunctis patent, quod pristina deinceps adnulletur inimicitiaV 
 "Vita S. Sturmi," c. iS, in Pertz, "Monum." IL 374. 
 
 160. Page 224. The emerald here mentioned is still
 
 NOTES 329 
 
 to be seen among the ecclesiastical treasures of the Parish 
 Church of Mittelzell on Reichenau. It shared the fate 
 of the famous emerald platter of Genoa which was re- 
 garded as sacro catiiio for the priceless palladium of the city, 
 and in the Napoleonic wars v/as brought as such to Paris, 
 where the committee of investigation appointed from the 
 French Institute (1809) pronounced it to be only colored 
 glass, — a lack in romantic sentiment which " essentially 
 mitigated " the mortification of returning the prize to the 
 Genoese. It was very essential for churches to have 
 such show-pieces in their treasuries in order to be able, in 
 case of necessity, to negotiate a material loan on their 
 security. 
 
 161. p. 225. erat tunc internostrates frater quidam sim- 
 plicissimus et fatuus, ciijus dicta et facta scepe ridebantur, 
 nomine Heribaldus . . . Ekkeh. ** Casus S. Galli," c. 3. 
 
 162. Page 226. . . . ^* enimvero, ait ille, fiigiat, qui 
 velit ; ego quidem, quia cor item meum ad calceos camera- 
 rites hoc anno non dedit, nusquam fugiam ! " Ekkeh. 1. c. 
 
 163. Page 228. fabricantur spicula, piltris loricce fiujity 
 fundibula plectuntur, tabulis compactis et wannis scuta 
 simulantur, sparrones et fustes acute focis prcedurantur, 
 Ekkeh. 1. c. 
 
 164. Page 230. " ^neis," VII. 631, ^/ seq. 
 
 165. Page 231. . . . ^(^w/Az//^ z/zVaV/. " Vita Liutger." 
 in Pertz, " Monum." I. 412. 
 
 166. Page 235. Described in detail and with mutually 
 complementary details in Ekkeh. IV. " Casus S. Galli," 
 c. 3, and the Lives of S. Wiborad (see note 40) especially 
 in Hepidan. " Vita Wiboradce," c. VI. 24. ('* Acta Sane- 
 tor." Mai. I. 305). 
 
 167. Page 238. . . . ^^ locum enim, quern contra ver- 
 sutias antiqui hostis pugnatura elegi, Deo juvante, spiritu 
 redeunte ad eum qui dedit ilium, etiam cor pore tegam ! " 
 Hepidan 1. c. p. 304.
 
 330 NOTES 
 
 168. Page 244. . . • quasi catieni audierat muss itautcyn 
 . . . et intellexit temptatoreni : " esue tu, iiiquit iteruni ibi ? 
 quam bene tibi miser contigit nunc mzissitanti et gruntiienti 
 post gloriosas voces illas, quas in ccelis habueras ? " Ekkeh. 
 " Casus S. Gain," c. 3, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 98. 
 
 169. Page 246. " Regula S. Benedicti," c. 53, "De 
 Hospitibus Suscipiendis." 
 
 170. Page 249. . . Augustaque din obsessa, precibus 
 Uodabrici episcopi, sajictissimi quidem inter omnes tutic 
 teniporis viri, repulsi. . . . Ekkeh. " Casus S. Galli," c. 3. 
 
 171. Page 251. See Grimm, " Deutsche Mythologie," 
 p. 269. 
 
 172. Page 256. As early as the time of Charlemagne 
 there existed a lively trade with the Slavs and Avars. 
 (" Capitulare " of 808, in Pertz, "Monum." III. 133) and the 
 northern part of the empire obtained the products of the 
 South. Ermoldus Nigellus (t 836) in his pathetic poems 
 names Friesia^ merchants as buyers of the Alsatian wine, 
 which they carried back with them to the Rhine. On 
 the middle Neckar, also, they were well known. See 
 Stalin, " Wirtemberg. Geschichte," I. 402. 
 
 173. Page 256. In a temple was an idol called 
 Triglaff, and near it hung many weapons and pieces of 
 armor which had been captured in battle and presented 
 to the god, and gold and silver beakers with which obla- 
 tions were made and prognostications of the future ob- 
 tained, and out of which the nobles were accustomed 
 to drink on high festival days ; also great urochshorns 
 mounted in silver, and war trumpets, swords, and dag- 
 gers, and other costly weapons and utensils, all beauti- 
 fully and richly adorned, and presented to the idol. . . . 
 And the idol Triglaff was of gold, and had three heads, for 
 which reason he is so called, for Triglafi [Slav, Tri, three, 
 and Glavd, a head] in Wendish means three heads, by 
 which they wish to signify that he is one God over heaven,
 
 NOTES 331 
 
 earth, and hell. S. Otto took it away with him and sent it 
 to the Pope Honorius as a prize, and as a proof of the con- 
 version of the Pomeranians. — Thomas Kanzow, " Pome- 
 rania, oder Ursprunck, Altheit und Geschicht der Volcker 
 und Lande Pommern, Cassuben, Wenden, Stettin, Rhiigen " 
 (ed. Kosegarten), p. 107. 
 
 174. Page 258. . . . fatidtatis monstrtim tibi sentiunty 
 omnes illi risibiles parcuiit. Ekkeh. " Casus S. Galli," c. 3. 
 
 175. Page 260. . . . nat7i cum quidam illoriwi ascia 
 vibrata timtm retmaculorum succideret., Heribaldiis inter eos 
 Jam domestice versatus : " sine, iitquit, vir bone, quid vis vero, 
 ut nos, postqiiam abieritis, bibamus ? " Ekkeh. 1. c. 
 
 176. Page 260. See Ekkehard's story, in Pertz, 
 " Monum." II. 104. 
 
 177. Page 264. postqicam vero mero incaluerant, horri- 
 dissinie diis suis omties vociferabant . . . 1. c. The song 
 may refer to Attila's adventure with the sister of the 
 Emperor Valentinian, the Princess Honoria, who in re- 
 venge for being put into a convent on account of her 
 predilection for a man of much lower rank, Eugenius 
 her chamberlain, sent the barbarian monarch a ring and 
 besought him to take her as his betrothed wife. See 
 Gibbon, " History of the Roman Empire," c. 35. 
 
 178. Page 265. . . . et effusa Icetitia saltant coram 
 principibus. Ekkeh. IV. I. cit. 
 
 179. Page 266. cambutta, scottica vox, bacuhim sio;nifi- 
 cans. After S. Columban's death his shillelah was pre- 
 sented to S. Gallus as a memorial. See "Vita Sancti 
 Gain," in Pertz, " Monum." II. 14, and I. von Arx's note. 
 It would be a very great mistake to imagine such a cam- 
 butta as less elegant because it was club-shaped, since we 
 have a truly frightful description of an ordinary walking- 
 stick of a contemporary of Charlemagne's . . . bacuhis de 
 arbore malo, nodis paribus admirabilis, rigidus et terribilis ! 
 " Monachus San Gallensis," I. 34, in Pertz, " Monum." II. 
 747.
 
 332 NOTES 
 
 180. Page 271. . . . ubictinqiie autem ha reliquice 
 fuejint, illic pax et augmentiini et lenitas aeris semper erit. 
 
 " Annales San Gallens. Maior." in Pertz, "Monum." I. 71. 
 
 181. Page 275. "The Revelation," S. John xx. 7. It 
 was commonly held that the Gog and Magog of the 
 Scriptures were embodied in the Hungarians, and they 
 were regarded as the precursors of the end of the world. 
 The question was subjected to serious theological inves- 
 tigation. See Gibbon, " History of the Roman Empire," 
 c. 55^ II. 
 
 182. Page 276. The honor of being the first of the 
 German army to engage in battle was regarded by the 
 Suabians as their immemorial right. According to 
 the Schwabenspiegel or ancient code of Suabia Charle- 
 magne grants : zwa man umbe des riches not striteii solte, 
 da stilen die swabe vor alien sprachen striien. [When there 
 is to be a battle in defence of the realm, then the Suabians 
 are to take precedence of all the other nationalities in 
 beginning the engagement.] " Landrecht " § 32. A series 
 of other passages from historians and poets to the same 
 effect are found in Stalin, " Wirtemberg. Geschichte," 
 
 I- 393- 
 
 183. Page 277. Waffen, feiiidio ! the ancient clamor 
 ad arma, war-cry, or alarum. See Grimm, " Rechtsalter- 
 tiimer," p. 876. A similar form — a strengthening of the 
 substantive by means of an appended exclamation — is 
 found in the cries for help, Mordio [murder], Feurio 
 [fire], etc. 
 
 184. Page 281. "I myself," said Attila to his war- 
 riors before the battle in the Catalaunian fields, "I my- 
 self will hurl the first spear, and the wretch who hesitates 
 to follow his leader's example is doomed to inevitable 
 death." See Gibbon, c. 35 (7). 
 
 185. Page 284. As late as the XVIth Century the 
 German militia retained the custom of flinging a handful
 
 NOTES 333 
 
 of soil back over the head before they entered into the 
 tumult of the conflict. Thus did the gallant Georg von 
 Freundsberg before the battle of Pavia. 
 
 186. Page 285. We cannot refrain from quoting the 
 simple, splendid text of Notker's song, " Media Vita," as 
 we find it incorporated in I. von Arx's ''History of the 
 Canton of S. Gall," I. p. 95 : — 
 
 " media vita in morte suimis, quern qiicerimus adjiitorem^ 
 nisi te domine, qui pro peccatis nostris iuste irasceris. 
 
 V. in te speraverunt patres nostri, speraverunt et liberasti 
 eos. 
 
 R. sancte deus. 
 V. ad te damaverunt patres nostri, clamaverunt et non 
 sunt confusi. 
 
 R. sancte fortis. 
 V. ne despicias nos in tempore senectutis, cum defecerit 
 virtus nostra, ne derelinquas nos. 
 
 R. sancte et misericors salvator, amarce morti ne tt-adas 
 nos." 
 
 [Von Scheffel's own rhymed translation reads : — 
 
 Ach, unser Leben ist nur halbes Leben, 
 Des Todes Boten stdndig tins umschweben ! 
 Wen mo gen wir als Helfe uns erfiehen, 
 Ah dichy Herr I den Richter der Vergehen ? 
 Hdliger Gott! 
 
 Dein harrten unsre Vdter schon mit Sehnen^ 
 Und du er Ids est sie von ihren Thrdnen, 
 Zu dir hinauf erging ihr Schrein und Rufen^ 
 Du ivarfst sie nicht von deines Thrones Stufen, 
 Starker Gott ! 
 
 Verlass uns nicht, wenn Unkraft uns befallen^ 
 
 Wenn unser Mtit, sei Stab uns alien ; 
 
 O gieb uns nicht dem bittern Tod zum Raube, 
 
 Barmherz' ger Gott, du tinser Hort utid Glaube! 
 
 Heiliger Gott, heiliger starker Gott ! 
 
 Heiliger barmherziger Gott, erbarme dich unser !
 
 334 NOTES 
 
 It may be roughly rendered into English : — 
 
 Alas ! our Fate in midst oj life hath found us! 
 Deaths messengers forever hover round us ! 
 
 IVhom may we call oti when we be faint-hearted^ 
 Save Thee, O Lord, the Judge of the Departed? 
 
 Most holy God ! 
 On Thee our sires did wait wheti low and needy. 
 
 Thou earnest to their help with succor speedy. 
 
 To Thee arose their prayer with cry and groan : 
 
 Thou didst not hurl t hern from before Thy throne. 
 Mighty God! 
 
 Oh leave us Jiot when foes make us afraid.' 
 And when our courage fails, be Thou our aid. 
 To bitter Death do not our souls deliver, 
 Compassionate God, of all gifts the giver ! 
 Most holy God / most holy mighty God ! 
 Most holy compassionate God ! have pity o?i us! 
 
 It found such a ready response in the hearts of pious 
 combatants that a synod at Cologne found itself com- 
 pelled to ordain that the " Media Vita " should never be 
 sung cgainst any one without the Bishop's permission. It 
 came into the Evangelical Church-song through Luther's 
 translation : — 
 
 Mitten wir in Leben sind 
 
 Von dem Tod umfangen, etc. 
 
 187. Page 285. . . . hand mora, belhim incipitur atque 
 ex Christianorum parte sancta mirabilisqtie vox " kyrie," ex 
 eorum turpis et diabolica ^' hui, hui ! " frequetiter auditur. 
 Luitprand von Cremona, " De Reb. Imp. et Regum " Lib. 
 II. c. 9. 
 
 188. Page 289. Folchardi codex aureus (Library at 
 St. Gall) p. 39. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 
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