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Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 He e’er was in my sight through all the battle ; 
 
 I saw him ever here and ther.e, performing 
 Marvels of valor wheresoe’er he went. 
 
 Mil. The great gods bless him ! 
 
 Adras. And, at last, returning 
 
 Unharmed with our victorious troops to Athens ; 
 
 Though ’twas a miracle how he escaped 
 Prom all the foes that closely pressed him round. 
 
 Mil. O, the sweet powers be praised that kept him safe ! 
 Spared him to me ! One staff is left me still, 
 
 "While I must breathe this upper air! But, sir, 
 
 I pray you tell me more yet of the battle. 
 
 And how it was you took the enemy captive ? 
 
 25 
 
 FREDERICK BARBAROSSA. 
 
 From the excessively cheerless history of the political life 
 of the German people, some 1,900 years whereof are now 
 known to us, one century shines forth with rare glow of 
 gay color, though by no means iinmixed with dark tints — 
 a century of romance, of tremulous gladness, and aspiring 
 enthusiasni of new awaken^ art, culture, and science ; it is 
 the century of the Hohdlistauffens, the century of the Minne- 
 singers and Troubadours, of Coeur de Lion and the Crusaders. 
 Effectively, this century is ushered in by the grand figure of 
 the blue-eyed, golden-haired emperor, Frederick Barba- 
 rossa, or, rather, Frederick von Hohenstauften. A rare 
 romance circles around his dynasty, a romance gilded with 
 all the splendor of power on earth, and promising endurance 
 for ages, yet ending abruptly, after a mere hundred years of 
 existence, in the woeful tragedy of a scaffold. But love for 
 the fair beauty of Italy, which, ever since the days of Char- 
 lemagne, thrilled and drew to destruction the rulers of 
 Germany — which seems to have impassionated these men 
 of the northern climes with tierce desire to revel in the 
 glories of her body — proved also the element of destruction 
 to the Hohenstauffen family, and at last delivered into the 
 
26 
 
 The Western, 
 
 hands of the executioner that “sweet young man,’’ Con- 
 radin, the last of the race, of whom we have preserved to 
 us two Minnesongs that mourn touchingly his lady’s hard- 
 hearted ness in considering him too young to taste the bliss 
 of love. 
 
 A little ballad by a talented modern German poet, Count 
 Moritz von Strachwitz, gives a very effective, Kembrandt 
 sort of picture of this tragical end of the Hohenstauffen 
 rule — Barbarossa riding over the ruins of Milan, and there 
 made to realize in a vision the doom of his house : 
 
 *‘Aye, Longobards, I trow ye, that ride sore grieved ye then, 
 
 Which Frederick Barbarossa rode o’er battered Milan. 
 
 Light shone the Emperor’s courser, a Frisian ’twas by birth. 
 
 With Walish blood ’twas checkered far over the saddle’s girth. 
 
 There sat the Hohenstauffen, from head to foot steel-clad, 
 
 The heavy knob of his saber against his hip he staid ; 
 
 His head thrown grimly backward, his lip pinched, red, and slim. 
 
 His beard rose as a mountain, each separate hair flashed grim. 
 
 How laydst, Milan, so low thou, thou erst so high and free ; 
 
 All shattered in bloody soaked ashes, thou pearl of fair Lombardy. 
 
 The dust in wind-gusts whirled aloft where columns not long since stood. 
 
 And trampling over the marble the heavy-hoofed charger trod. 
 
 Then silence over the ruins — none of the men durst speak — 
 
 For his imperial courser th’ avenger’d reined in quick. 
 
 Then deeper grew the silence, and all men stood at bay — 
 
 Straight ’fore the victor’s pathway a dying rebel lay. 
 
 Who, rearing half his body up forcibly ’fore the troop. 
 
 Looked with an unextinguishable deathlj^-some wrath to him up, 
 
 Nor piteously cried. Have Mercy ! nor whiningly begged for self. 
 
 But gnashed from under his helm forth the stubborn cry : Here, Guelf I 
 
 This shook the grim destroyer, how firm he’d seemed till now ; 
 
 A dreadful thought struck a-sudden its heavy reins over his brow. 
 
 He saw by southernly ocean a scaffold gloomy red. 
 
 Where the last Hohenstauffen his last prayer, kneeling, pray’d.” 
 
 To get anything like an adequate appreciation of what 
 this Barbarossa was, and what sigiiihcance he had for Ger- 
 many, it will be necessary to give a short sketch of events 
 in Germany^ from the time of that Henry IV. whose terrible 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 27 
 
 struggle with Pope Gregory VII. has made him more 
 universally known than any other of the German emperors. 
 After having been so exasperatingly humiliated by that Pope 
 at Canossa, and restored to his crown only througli the 
 intercession of the Countess Matilda, Henry, returning to 
 Germany, found it of immediate necessity to strengthen 
 himself by raising some new, reliable friends to whatever 
 power he had in his hands to bestow. In pursuance of this 
 policy he gave to Count Frederick von Bueren, an intimate 
 friend and a man somewhat of his own stamp — proud and 
 haughty, but gifted with far greater self-control, amiability, 
 and firmness of character — the Dukedom of Suabia, at the 
 same time bestowing upon him the hand of his daughter 
 Agnes. Von Bueren shortly afterwards removed his castle 
 from the foot of a mountain named Hohen Stauffen to its 
 summit, and he, having christened that new castle Hohen- 
 stauffen, was ever after called by that name ; though he 
 and his family were also known by the name of Weiblingen, 
 from their castle Weibling, a name 'which the Italians in 
 latter times chano^ed into Guibelline — a terrible word in the 
 
 O 
 
 history of Italian politics. Frederick von Hoheiistauffen 
 served his emperor faithfully to the end, and showed the 
 same fidelity to the son, Henry V. In consideration of the 
 great services of this family, Henry V., besides confirming 
 the Dukedom of Suabia to Frederick’s oldest son, also called 
 Frederick, endowed his second son, Conrad, with the Duke- 
 dom of Franconia. The widow of the first Frederick von 
 Hohenstauffen, his sister Agnes, he married to the Margrave 
 Leopold of Austria, from the house of Babenberg, thereby 
 laying the foundation of that intimacy between the houses 
 of Babenberg and Hohenstauffen which subsequently proved 
 so great a boon to art and literature. 
 
 Even before Emperor Henry IV. had thus laid the foun- 
 dation of the grandeur of the house of Hohenstauffen, he 
 hid, with the same view of raising himself new and powerful 
 
28 
 
 The Western. 
 
 friends, though probably in this instance also influenced by 
 the Countess Matilda, conferred the Dukedom of Bavaria 
 upon Welf — or, as the Italians call him, Guelf — a son of the 
 Italian Margrave Azzo d’ Este,^ having for that purpose 
 taken the dukedom most injustly from its legal possessor, 
 Otto of Nordheim. Thus, together with the family of the 
 Hohenstauflen, or Guibellines, the famil}^ of the Guelfs rose 
 to great power in Germany, {ind both became in a manner 
 rivals. 
 
 The rivalry soon came to an outbreak. M^ith the death 
 of Henry V., the Salic line of German emperors became 
 extinct — his wife, Matilda, daughter of King Henry I. of 
 England, having been childless — and a new election was 
 ordered. Three candidates were proposed : Lothar, of 
 Saxony ; Leopold, of Austria ; and Frederick Hohenstauflen, 
 of Suabia. The two first-named princes did not want the 
 crown, and begged on their knees to be relieved from its 
 responsibility. Frederick showed by his whole manner that 
 he considered himself the only one fit for the position. His 
 haughty bearing, however, contributed perhaps more than 
 other considerations to his defeat. Lothar, of Saxony, was 
 elected in spite of himself. This vexed the Hohenstauflens, 
 both Frederick and Conrad, and they did their best to make 
 Lothar’s reign a burden to him. To protect himself, 
 Lothar made a close friend of Henry, Duke of Bavaria, a 
 descendant of Welf ; gave him his daughter Gertrude in mar- 
 riage ; and made him, moreover, Duke of Saxony. Henry 
 thus became greater even than the emperor himself, for, 
 with his two powerful Dukedoms of Saxony and Bavaria, 
 
 ^ It may be of interest to mention that the great Leibnitz undertook hit 
 journey to Italy some five centuries later for the sole purpose of tracing out 
 and putting into historical form the connection of this house with the German 
 Brandenburg dynasty. The magnificent work of Leibnitz, which contains the 
 result of his studies, and in which he took special pride, has never been pub- 
 lished, though the whole Welf family of Europe would seem to have an 
 interest in its publication. 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 2D 
 
 and his claim to the estates of the Countess Matilda — a 
 claim based on his relation to the house d’Este — his posses^ 
 sions extended from the Elb to Italy. 
 
 The death of Lothar brought the rivalry of these two 
 great chiefs of the German Empire into an open conflict. 
 When the imperial electors came together, their choice fell, 
 not upon the powerful Duke of Bavaria and Saxony, but 
 upon one of the Hohenstaiiflbns. They chose Conrad, of 
 Franconia, however, instead of Frederick, of Sual)ia, and 
 Conrad tarried not long in making use of his power to cui*« 
 tail that of his great rival, of Bavaria. His first step was 
 to ask Henry to resign his Dukedom of Saxony, alleging 
 that it was improper for any German prince to hold more 
 than one dukedom. When Henry refused, he deposed him 
 of both dukedoms, giving that of Bavaria to Leopold, of 
 Austria; but that of Saxony was, after Henry’s death, 
 restored to his son, the famous Henry the Lion. 
 
 Thus began, under Conrad, King of Germany — he was 
 never crowned Emperor of the Holy Eoman Empire — the 
 rule of the Hohenstauffen fixmily, and with it a great change 
 set in upon the people of Germany. Before that time the 
 few men whose lives were not, in some way or another, 
 drawn into the incessant brawls and battles of politics had 
 devoted their energies either to the study of alchemy or ta 
 the almost equally entrancing study of scholastic philoso- 
 phy. For it was at this period that, for the second time, a 
 vast impulse of study and learning had been diverted from 
 Ireland upon the people of France and Germany ; this time 
 inaugurated by one of the acutest minds known to philo- 
 sophical history — Scotus Erigena. 
 
 In our day it is almost impossible to realize the effect 
 such men produced at that time upon the general public. 
 It is only in reading the life of Abelard that we catch a 
 glimpse of the mental condition of that age — multitudes 
 of those whose life was not devoted to war assembling 
 
30 
 
 The Western. 
 
 around their respective teachers and listening with the 
 enthusiasm of panting souls for some new unuttered word. 
 
 Meanwhile the Orient had opened its mysterious lotus 
 eye, gazing with six thousand years of unfathomable yearn- 
 ing, half doubtful, half hopeful, upon its truant children, 
 this same strange people of Western Europe, wondering 
 whether they would or would not come to solve its world- 
 long riddle of the Sphinx. And, whilst through Haroun 
 A1 Raschid it had made offers as early as the days of 
 Charlemagne, when the Occident was not yet ripe for the 
 solution, it now again arose, and, beckoning with solemn 
 gesture to its treasures of learning, of sciences, of arts, of 
 Homer, of Aristotle, of Phydias, it once more entreated its 
 blue-eyed children to take those treasures and see whether 
 they might not be more successful in interpreting their 
 meaning than their parents had been. And yet it was not 
 until the solemn gesture rested upon the grave of the child 
 of Bethlehem that the W estern people arose as one man to 
 hasten to the ajjpeal. It was under Godfrey, of Bouillon, 
 that the first crusade set foot on the ground of Palestine. 
 
 Then arose strange signs all over Germany. Stragglers 
 came back and spoke and sang adventurous deeds and holy 
 feelings in a new, hitherto utterly unknown, maimer. The 
 chant would start and halt, and come back again to the 
 halt, with a kiss, as it were, of the same or a similar sound- 
 ing word, and men and women drew near to marvel and 
 thrill with ecstasy at this beauteous art of song. Other 
 stragglers came back and spoke of the supreme beauties of 
 human form cut into stone and marble in the far-oft' countries, 
 and of rare and wondrous designs of groups, some incom- 
 prehensible in meaning, but others as clearly telling their 
 story as if it had been told in words ; and of marvelous 
 women of marble, sculptured so impassionately that they 
 would fiiscinate men as if alive. Then, again, came troops of 
 men, walking barefoot or on sandals, clad in the roughest 
 
Frederich Barharossa. 
 
 31 
 
 gowns, and begging their way from one country to another, 
 wdth carefully covered manuscripts or papyrus of pergament 
 under their arms, and spoke in mysterious whispers of 
 a wonderful lore discovered in the far-off East, or of enchant- 
 ing poems of ancient Troy, beleaguered ten years by a 
 l^owerful western force, and all for the sake of a Greek 
 woman. And now there was another army from the far 
 West, beleaguering another eastern city, Jerusalem, not for 
 the sake of the beauty of a woman, however, this time, but 
 for the sake of the grave of a poor woman’s poor son, Jesus, 
 the Christ. 
 
 With all these announcements of a new life, of new arts, 
 of new sciences, it is not to be wondered at that there 
 bloomed and sprouted forth in the hearts of men all over 
 Europe a gladness, poetry, and romance the like of which 
 has never since been known. 
 
 In our English literature we hear the last, though also the 
 most superb, tones of this splendid gladness in the works of 
 Geoffrey Chaucer. 
 
 The beginning broke out, naturally enough, amidst the 
 men who, withdrawn from war and the tumult of war, 
 hitherto had nothing but philosophy for their mental food. 
 In rhythm and rhyme poured forth from their souls long 
 suppressed emotions in a rhythm and rhyme that still shook 
 unevenly from the intensity of their suppression. But soon 
 the strange art of rhyme, brought back by the stragglers of 
 the hrst crusade, took firmer hold amongst the people, and 
 broke out in tones of half fierce, half tender beauty. The 
 •old legends of Attila and his fight with the people of Bur- 
 gundy, coming with those of the horde of the Niebelungen, 
 were sung in the one same strain all over the country. 
 Then, as the younger people — the youths and maidens of 
 the castles and the country — asked the same artist to sing to 
 them, not only old, forgotten legends, but their own living, 
 -every-day feelings, the bard of the people changed into a 
 minstrel and sang songs like these, by the oldest one known 
 
32 
 
 Tlie Western, 
 
 of them, Voii Kuerenberg, in the same strain as he had 
 sang to them of the Niebelungen : 
 
 '‘Late at night I ventured, lady, ’fore thy bed ; 
 
 Then durst I not awake thee, in sweet slumber laid.” 
 
 “ This I give thee no thanks for — now God save thy luck ! 
 
 Surely, I was not a wild boar !” Thus the lady spoke : 
 
 “When late at eve, in night-dress, I stand all alone 
 And think of thee, my noble knight, m}’^ love, my own. 
 
 Then blooms forth all my color, as the rose blooms on its thorn, 
 
 And in my heart there enters many a thought forlorn. 
 
 “Aye, in my heart there centers many a weary sigh, 
 
 For what I have such longing, and yet must deny, 
 
 Nor ever can achieve me — ’tis a wretched lot! 
 
 I mean not gold and silver, but him who rules my thought. 
 
 “ I nursed me a falcon longer than a year; 
 
 When I had him so tamed as I’d wished he were, 
 
 And all around his feathers gay tied many a golden band. 
 
 Pie far up high him lifted and flew to another land. 
 
 “ Since what time again I saw my falcon fly. 
 
 Saw all around his feathers gay many a silken tie. 
 
 And all around his breast saw tied many a band of red, 
 
 God sweetly bring together whom love together led.” 
 
 In the first great crusade, of 1096, the German people did’ 
 not take a very active part ; but when, in 1147, Bernard of 
 Clairveance raised the second great outcry over the dis- 
 grace of Jerusalem, a frenzy seiz'ed upon them. When this 
 gifted monk, who had hitherto employed his powerful rhet- 
 oric against those subtle reasoners of his age, Gilbert de 
 la Torrei, Petrus Lombardus, Abelard, etc., suddenly 
 started on his tour over the lands of France and Germany, 
 the princes, nobles, knights, and vassals of every section 
 of the country were swept along by his impassioned plead- 
 ing, and struggled as to who should be first to catch the 
 badge of the cross under which to enlist. With the same- 
 zeal wherewith he had fought his scholastic adversaries he 
 now cried out for rescue from the subjection of the grave 
 of Christ to the sword of the Saracens — a rac,e of men that 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 33 
 
 had astonished the rough Westerners by their grace of 
 manner, courtesy, and their refined behavior, as well as 
 by their fierce bravery and warlike qualities — in the land of 
 the Jews ; and, wdth hearts rendered easily inflammable by 
 the strange new life swept back from Asia by the first cm- 
 sade, the people followed him. His speech was as a wind- 
 driven fire ; the barefooted monk had to tear his cloak inta 
 shreds to provide crosses enough for the enlisting multi- 
 tude. For a long time did Conrad von Hohenstauffen with- 
 stand the exhortation of the priest. None of the Hohenstauf- 
 fens had ever much faith in the crusades, or, indeed, in any 
 external paraphernalia of the Church ; but when this fiery 
 priest brought at last the fullness of his eloquence in public 
 to bear upon his sovereign, Conrad humbly arose in the 
 church, fastened the cross upon his sleeve, and said he would 
 no longer resist, since the voice of God had spoken within 
 him. He had intended just then to go to Kome and be 
 crowned Emperor of the Holy Koman Empire ; as it was, 
 he sacrificed this ambition, and gathered all the nobles under 
 his rule to sally forth with him to Jerusalem. But, of all 
 the knights that followed him, there was not one whom he 
 learned to love and admire so much as his gay young 
 nephew, his brother Frederick of Suabia’s son, the future 
 emperor, Frederick Barharossa. In every battle, first and 
 foremost show the red locks and beard of the reckless 
 youth ; if at eve the favored knights gathered around King 
 Conrad’s tent, none so gay in making the night air ring 
 with strano-e sonjrs of love and versified dialoofues between 
 knight and lady, Borneo and Juliet, than young Frederick ; 
 nor did many exceed him in the new lore of telling rare 
 legends of the great King Arthur in his fairy realm of 
 Avondale, or of Roland, the bravest of the knights of Char- 
 lemagne. Furthermore, if after battle or march calm 
 counsel was needed, King Conrad marveled at the astute- 
 ness and diplomatic skill which his young nephew exhibited. 
 And thus it chanced that Conrad, wisely preferring his expe* 
 
 Vol. 4, No. 1-3. 
 
34 
 
 The Western, 
 
 rienced nephew to his own infant heir, recommended Bar- 
 barossa to the votes of the German princes, when, shortly 
 after his return from the Crusade, he felt his end approach- 
 ing. Frederick was thirty-one years old when the German 
 princes, in accordance with Conrad’s wish, chose him to be 
 their king and ruler. 
 
 “Wherever he went, it seemed as if he gave to men, 
 earth, and the skies a new, peaceful character,” is the 
 remark made by one of the contemporary chroniclers of his 
 times, in speaking of Frederick. Nothing, indeed, as has 
 already been said, so much strikes the student of the history 
 of that time and century as this new character, this rare 
 gladness, jo3^ousness, cheeriness, exuberance of heavenly 
 delight in living, which contrasts so sadly with the subse- 
 quent gloom ; and in no man is this joyousness more admi- 
 rably exhibited than in the strong, proud, quick figure of 
 Frederick — blithe, and full of life in every muscle of the 
 bod}", in every inch of his fair, rose-tinted skin. Filled with 
 the learning, gathered up by him on the Crusade — the vista 
 into a new life of deliverance from the bondage of savagery — 
 of beauty in art, and clear knowledge in science, which that 
 learning opened to his sight, a life of which his present elec- 
 tion would make him the chief director and ornament, no 
 doubt inspired the dominant policy of his whole reign, as it 
 colored its whole life. Culture poured, indeed, just then 
 into Europe in exhaustless streams ; if, in the East, Saladin 
 opened libraries and museums, and sent copies of Aristotle 
 and Plotinus to new arising libraries in the West, by way 
 of Spain, the Arabs from Africa drowned Christendom in 
 the AYest with no less a flood of solid erudition and romantic 
 lore ; along with mathematics, astronomies, and metaphysical 
 puzzles came from them the Thousand and One Nights and 
 the Myths of the St. Grail. 
 
 Nor should it be ever forgotten in our days that, had it 
 not been for the cloisters which were being established in 
 that age over all Europe, the learning opened to their Euro- 
 
Frederick Barharossa, 
 
 35 
 
 peaii brethren by the baffled students of the East would 
 probably have soon perished. It was that same Ireland, 
 which men nowaday call bigoted, and a stumbling-block to 
 progress, from which early Germany and France received 
 their first germs of civilization, when Columba, Gabliis, 
 Killian, Emeran, etc., traveled over the wilds of those 
 countries to open the savage mind of their inhabitants to 
 hiolier knowledsfe, and which in a later time nourished the 
 freest philosophical thinking, and spread a new impulse of 
 study over all Europe ; and it was in the much-abused 
 cloisters of the middle ages that men of rare self-abnegation, 
 and devotedness to culture of ancient wisdom, literature, 
 and art, preserved and elaborated for us all that has con- 
 tributed to bring about our present stage of advancement. 
 
 Frederick Barbarossa sio'iialized the inaimuration of his 
 reign by an act which was almost too generous for sound 
 policy. He reinvested Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony, 
 with the Dukedom of Bavaria, thus restoring to the Welfish 
 house all its former power. (It may be mentioned, by the 
 by, that the Wellish house was as distinguished by its black 
 beard and hair as the Hohenstauffens were famous for their 
 blondness. ) It is true that Frederick, being himself slightly 
 related by his mother’s side to that house, may have 
 thought that this generous act would change an ancient feud 
 into close friendship ; but the step was undoubtedly a very 
 risky one. With quick resolve he then hastened to readjust 
 on a basis of peace and justice the internal affairs of his 
 kingdom, so sadly put out of order by the disorganizing 
 influences of the last crusade. For, over the whole country, 
 bold, lawless knights, fancying themselves secure in the 
 absence of the nobler princes on crusading expeditions, had 
 put up temporary castles, or taken forcible possession of 
 such as had been left without sufficient defense, and from 
 these strongholds plundered all travelers that passed their 
 neighborhood, or could be plundered within the range of 
 their forces. To suppress this extensive land-privateering 
 
36 
 
 The Western, 
 
 Frederick exercised all his energy and time. To secure still’ 
 more firmly the administration of justice at home, as well 
 as to obtain support in his great project — the fatal project 
 of all German rulers since the days of the ill-starred Charle- 
 magne — of reducing Italy to closer subjection under his 
 rule — he successfully forced the kings of Denmark, Hun- 
 gary, Poland, and Bohemia to swear allegiance to him. 
 Thus fixed in power he followed the irresistible temptation, 
 and moved upon Italy. ^ At that time the northern part of 
 Italy, in Lombardy, under the new upstarting order of 
 things, great mercantile cities had sprung up and clad them- 
 selves with all the power of kingdoms and empires. It is^ 
 the fashion of history to drift into raptures of admiration 
 when speaking of these cities and their republican institu- 
 tions : but as a mere word will not change a fact, so the 
 entitling republican the Lombardian cities of the twelfth 
 and thirteenth centuries will not, or at least should not, con- 
 ceal what is so clearly written in their history — that nowhere 
 was less of individual freedom, less of justice and security,, 
 to be found than under the flao:s of those cities. It is not, 
 of course, to be supposed that Barbarossa invaded Italy and 
 struggled with the enormous power of those cities from 
 any care for the welfare of the people at large ; nor, again,, 
 can historians be blamed very much if they base their dis- 
 quisitions on the stand-point of nationality, and lament that 
 the German should have planted his hated rule upon the 
 free soil of the Italian. These nationality-generalizations, 
 however, are altogether of little account, and the only ques- 
 tion should be whether or not the laws, and administrations 
 of laws, of the King of Lombardy and “Emperor of the 
 Koman Empire” represented greater individual freedom, 
 justice, and security than the laws and rule of the republican 
 cities of Lombardy. 
 
 2 That Barbarossa was conscious of the fatality of this enchantment appears 
 from the exclamation he made in a later time, when listening to a history of 
 Alexander the Great: “How happy was he that he did not know Italy.” 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 37 
 
 Mixed up with this vexed question of so-called republi- 
 can institutions in Lombardy on the one, and imperial rule 
 of Germany on the other, hand, there is to be considered 
 the by no means inferior question of the spiritual rule of 
 the Pope, as opposed against the temporal rule of the 
 empire, which followed, as it had followed, every attempt of 
 l^the German emperors to fix their foot-hold in Italy. And it 
 may be well to record the fact that never was a man more 
 short-sighted and impolitic than the great Charlemagne — 
 whom Germany and France absurdly rival in claiming as 
 their own “emperor” — when he laid the foundation for 
 the insane desire of subsequent German princes to rule Italy, 
 and thus engage in conflict with the spiritual chief of the 
 Christian Church. If Charlemagne had any rule of con- 
 duct at all for his actions, it was certainly this : To estab- 
 lish a temporal Christian Empire — an empire of all the 
 •Christian nations of the earth. Successfully to accomplish 
 this, it was absolutely necessary to refrain from incurring 
 any possibility of a collision with the established chief of 
 the spiritual Christian Empire. And yet it was Charle- 
 magne, Karl der Grosse, who not only incurred the possi- 
 bility of such a collision, but made it unavoidable for all his 
 successors. 
 
 ^ In this his first visit to Italy, Frederick was in the main 
 successful. In his great and magnificent camp on the Ron- 
 calian fields, 1154 , he settled many existing disputes between 
 the larger and smaller cities. Special complaints, for in- 
 stance, had been made against Milan — her oppression of 
 Lodi, Coma, and other Lombardian cities, a disorderly con- 
 duct which grated on Barbarossa’s soul above anything else. 
 He was then crowned, at Savia, King of Lombardy, met with 
 <)ourteous receptions wherever he stayed, and, after some 
 little sparring with Pope Adrian, was crowned Emperor of 
 I ^the Roman Empire, at Rome, June 11, 1155. 
 
 When Barbarossa returned to Germany he was in the 
 
38 
 
 The Western, 
 
 zenith of his glory — young, powerful, loved, and beloved — 
 in the midst of a new-born world of art and science that shed 
 glorious radiance over his whole German people. Peace 
 and security reigned everywhere — none of his princes dared 
 to entertain thoughts of revolt. Even the great Wei fish 
 Duke of Saxony and Bavaria was now his friend and sup- 
 porter, and, in his own city of Vienna, Frederick had the 
 select society of the Dukes of Babenberg and the Dukes of 
 Austria, and the world of artists generally that congregated 
 at their palaces. And it was to be noted that the minstrels 
 now sang no more altogether in the Nieberungen stanza, but 
 in infinitely different forms, and that the knights and 
 princes seemed to arrogate to themselves altogether this 
 new art of singing in new tones, though the old jninstrels 
 of the people still roamed over the country with their bal- 
 lads of the Huns and Goths. Very few of these earliest 
 Minnesongs have been handed down to our day. Those 
 that follow may serve as specimens. The first one, by 
 Markijrave von Reijensbur^, still resembles the Niebeluiuyen 
 stanza ; it is, one might say, a timid variation of it. Those 
 by Veldeck^ move already with a steadier rhythm, and 
 betoken the eoming glory of the full-developed Minnesong. 
 Dietmar von Est’s poems are also noticeable as introducing 
 the Spanish assonance in the third of his songs here given^ 
 and a variation of the Niebelungen stanza in the first. 
 
 MINNESONG BY MARKGRAVE VON REGENSBURG. 
 
 I am, with genuine steadfastness, of noble knight the subject blessed ; 
 
 How sweet it seems unto m}^ heart when he me dearly has caressed ! 
 
 He, whom his many virtues good 
 
 Have made esteemed by all the world ; surely he high exalts my mood ! 
 
 The whole world cannot take from me whom I so long my choice hava 
 proved, 
 
 The true love of my heart and soul, who me so long a time has loved. 
 
 Aye, though the world should perish all, 
 
 I’ll always gracious be to him ; then envious women ’ll meet their fall. 
 
Frederick Barharossa, 
 
 39 
 
 MINNESONGS BY DIETMAR VON EST. 
 
 I. 
 
 Now at last has been accomplished what my heart desired — 
 
 A noble woman me has taken — with her love inspired, 
 
 And now her subject I am fain, 
 
 As is the ship to the pilotman, 
 
 When all the waves and all the water mind his slightest touch; 
 Lo-ho-hohi ! they take from me wild mood overmuch. 
 
 “I hear them tell the many virtues of a goodly knight, 
 
 It touches me in wond’rous measure, and my soul makes bright ; 
 I never now can him forget,” 
 
 A woman spoke, “Alas, sweet mate ! 
 
 Now must I all the world abjure me for his love alone, 
 Lo-ho-hohi ! the blessed man ! how well he’s won his own !” 
 
 How can my heart become, pray tell me, ever glad again. 
 
 Since me a noble woman worketh so much woe and pain ? 
 Whom I have served with endless zeal ; 
 
 Bending each thought to her fair will, 
 
 And now refuses she to think of how I’ve suffered, aye ; 
 Lo-ho-hohi! oh, dear, my lady, do not turn away I 
 
 n. 
 
 Sleep’st thou, sweetheart ? Ah, woe us ! 
 
 The morn, too, soon calls to us ! 
 
 A little birdlet warbling sweet. 
 
 Has perched upon its linden-seat. 
 
 “Sweet sleep had me o’ertaken; 
 
 Now call’st thou ; child awaken ! 
 
 Love never may be without woe ; 
 
 What thou me bidst I’ll do, and go.” 
 
 Softly she wept : “ Oh, grievest 
 Of fates I Thou me here leavest 
 And ridest off! Come soon again ; 
 
 My joy thou bearest with thee, dear man !” 
 
 III. 
 
 Alone there stood a woman 
 
 And looked o’er the heather’s common. 
 
 And looked for her darling. 
 
 Then saw she a falcon soaring ; 
 
 “ Oh, bless thee, falcon, where thou art. 
 
 Thou flyest where it likes thy heart ! 
 
40 
 
 The Western, 
 
 Thou thee in the greenwood forest 
 A tree to please thee choosest. 
 
 Even so have I, too, done ; 
 
 I took for myself and love a man 
 Whom my eyes with care had chosen ; 
 
 Now, envious women would love him — 
 
 Ah, woe, why let they my love not be ? 
 
 Sure, never their sweethearts wished I for me! 
 
 Blessed thou bliss of summer ! 
 
 The birdlet’s song whispers slumber, 
 
 Even as the linden-leaves. 
 
 The whole year long me have grieved, 
 
 Ever and ever mine eyes, love I 
 Take care thou do not spy, love. 
 
 After other women ! 
 
 My darling, keep thou from them ! 
 
 When thou the first time saw’st me. 
 
 So fair, so fair, thou thought’st me. 
 
 So very sweet and lovable ! 
 
 This, darling, I to thee recall.” 
 
 MINNESONGS BY HENRY VON VELDECKE. 
 
 I. 
 
 Many a heart brought grief the cold, cold, winter weather. 
 It has conquered both the greenwood and the heather, 
 Their green dress and bird’s gay feather ; 
 
 Winter, with thee all my sorrows leave together. 
 
 When May comes at last and hoary winter wrinkles. 
 
 And sweet dew the meadow’s fiowers all besprinkles. 
 
 And the greenwood with song tinkles — 
 
 Then the eye of my love with enjoyment twinkles. 
 
 My love likes to take me to the linden’s cover. 
 
 He whom I’d press to my heart and kiss all over; 
 
 He shall pluck there flowers, ni}’^ lover ! 
 
 For a rare wreath we will wrestle in the clover ! 
 
 I know well he ne’er will take from me the pleasure 
 My heart found in him, that joy and rare love treasure 
 Which gives ever}" grief short measure. 
 
 By us both were many flowers crushed in fond pressure. 
 
 With white arms in my embrace I’ll fondly fold him. 
 
 With my red mouth to his mouth glued, sweetly hold him. 
 
 Whom my eyes confessed and told him 
 
 Dearest of all things they saw, and so inthralled him ! 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 41 
 
 II. 
 
 The birdlets sing in glee, 
 
 Beholding now the flowers forth-bud ; 
 
 Their song delight my mood, 
 
 And brings good cheer to me. 
 
 Henceforth from care I’m free ! 
 
 God bless the darling, dear and good — 
 
 Across the Rhine lives she — 
 
 Who has stay’d all my sorrow’s flood, ' 
 
 Though far from her lonely I wander. 
 
 HI. 
 
 What time men genuine love pursued. 
 
 They followed honor’s banner. 
 
 But now both day and night men’s mood 
 Shows but disgraceful manner. 
 
 And who saw that and now this sees, 
 
 Alas, must he not mourn at this. 
 
 That things have grown so far the worse and wanner ? 
 
 IV. 
 
 He who by love is so much blessed. 
 
 That he love’s service may attain. 
 
 And he through love by grief is pressed — 
 
 Hail him, he is a happy man ! 
 
 From love man all that's good receives, 
 
 'Tis love that us a pure soul gives ; 
 
 What without love should I do then ? 
 
 I love my dear, nor thanks e’er claim, 
 
 I well know that her love is pure. 
 
 If my love be not free of blame, 
 
 Then never love was true and sure. 
 
 My love its thanks her fain would prove ; 
 
 My song clings faithful to her love ! 
 
 In this belief rest ye secure. 
 
42 
 
 The Western, 
 
 THE FOETUS FABLE. 
 
 BY MYRON B. BENTON. 
 
 Gay crowds who idly walk the strand 
 Turn mocking from the Giver’s hand. 
 
 What treasure of the deep is here ? 
 
 No wondrous sea-gift’s mute surprise 
 He lifts to their waiting, eager eyes ; 
 
 No strange, wan Pearl from dim sea-dreams, 
 Thrilled by first touch of baffiing beams. 
 “Pond dreamer of the sea!” they sneer; 
 
 “ He wrestles with Death beneath the wave, 
 Only these childish baubles to save !” 
 
 A handful of pebbles with curious veins, 
 
 And traced with soft prismatic stains ; 
 
 Some whispering ^olian shell 
 That repeats the Naiad’s secret well, 
 
 And holds the touch of her trusting lip — 
 Bloom that would the rose enhance — 
 
 On crimson coral’s budding stem; 
 
 Fetter on truant tress to slip 
 Of damsel at a village dance ; 
 
 No Pearl for a queenly diadem ! 
 
 Unheeding, the Diver murmurs and strays 
 Vacant amidst the idle throng ; 
 
 Seaward he turns his wistful gaze : 
 
 “For the breathless plunge I ever long — 
 
 The downward flight through emerald waves ! 
 Far up, the winds may wrestle and strain, 
 
 And sweep the remorseless hurricane ; 
 
 But low, in the hush’d sea’s charmed caves. 
 The battle of tempest never raves. 
 
 The billows sleep from their wild distress ; 
 The tattered sail hangs motionless 
 Where the wreck lies on the level sand ; 
 
 And there I walk the silent strand. 
 
 Where swift through vale and seaweed grove 
 Resplendent creatures of ocean rove. 
 
 “And oftentimes the Merman King 
 Beckons me to his palace halls, 
 
The Western 
 
 New Series.] March, 1878. [Vol. IV, No. 2. 
 
 FREDERICK BARBAROSSA. 
 
 . [continup:d.] 
 
 A main feature of the German character from earliest 
 times has been a tendency to rely upon individual exer- 
 tion and power, rather than be controlled by the will of 
 others. This characteristic may be observed throughout all 
 Teutonic races. The greatness of Charlemagne lies in his 
 perception of the insufficiency of the des])otic principle which 
 strives to annihilate all individind freedom, and of that of the 
 absolute freedom of the single individual, which effects the 
 same end, since it necessarily results in collision with other 
 individuals, and, hence, terminates in war and slavery. He 
 saw clearly that order — and, hence, true freedom, peace, and 
 progress — can be secured only by law ; and, as men of Char- 
 lemagne’s faith and greatness have always believed that law 
 cannot be carried out, or a nation be secured against out- 
 ward attacks, unless it has one supreme, infallible chief, they 
 have always held that disobedience to the law, or opposi- 
 tion to authority, must be followed by immediate and ade- 
 quate punishment. This accounts for many of the cruel- 
 ties in the lives of such men, even when they are naturally 
 mild-tempered. Frederick’s views were entirely of this 
 order ; and it is notable that the three greatest and fiercest 
 of modern rulers and warriors, Charlemagne, Frederick 
 
 Vol. 4. No. 2—9 
 
120 
 
 The Western. 
 
 Rarbarossa (and his successor, Frederick Hohenstaiiffen 
 II.), and Napoleon, have given special attention to the 
 formation of law codes and the maintenance of a strict, but 
 impartial, judiciary. Their defense of the most atrocioiis 
 deeds is always, “ The law must be upheld.” Frederick’s 
 bent of mind, was, therefore, in a great degree opposed to 
 that of the higher classes of his age — the nobles, and princes, 
 and prelates — who wanted no universal law ; and his main 
 support lay in the hearts of the people, who were tired of 
 being subject to caprices, and wanted laws ; though his 
 grand, imperial presence and character could not fail to sub- 
 due also a large number of those nobles and prelates, even 
 though they claimed immunities from laws, or demanded 
 al)Solute government over lands to which they were not 
 entitled, or which were at least subject to his superior rule. 
 Thus, when, upon his return from Italy, Barbarossa was 
 apprised that the Archbishop of Mayence and Pfalzgraf Her- 
 man von Stahllick had come to an open quarrel about the 
 Bishopric of Worms, warring upon each other and destroy- 
 ing the country ; and, when he cited them before ti Eeichs- 
 tng at Worms and they began to argue their cause upon 
 their respective clahns to that bishopric, Frederick at once 
 stopped them, and said that it was not the validity of their 
 claims which was in issue before the court, but that the 
 only question was whether they had violated the law of the 
 realm in making war upon each other, instead of bringing 
 their case before him and his council. All the princes 
 assembled at the Diet concurred in Frederick’s vicAV that 
 they had been guilty in that respect. The punishment 
 assessed upon them was rather a singular one — dog-carry- 
 ing. All who had supported them in their warfare, the 
 pfalzgraf and the archbishop at their head, were sentenced 
 to carry a dog in their arms for a length of five miles. The 
 archbishop, however, was pardoned on account of his age 
 and rank in the church ; but the pfalzgraf felt so deeply 
 ashamed that, when he reached the end of the journey, he 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 121 
 
 swooned away, and entered a cloister, where he soon after 
 •died. ^ 
 
 Frederick, having thus finally restored peace to his Ger- 
 man Kingdom, also increased its territoiy largely by the 
 annexation of the Kingdom of Burgundy, through his mar- 
 riage with Beatrice, the Burgundian princess. His mar- 
 r riage was celebrated with great pomp at Whitsunday, 1156. 
 From his first wife, Adelheid Markgrafin von Vohburg, he 
 had been divorced, partly on account of her reputed loose 
 character, and partly because she was barren. 
 
 On the same Reichstag he also promised Wladislav II., 
 King of Poland, to reinstate him in his kingdom, which his 
 brother, Boleslav, had compelled Wladislav II. to abandon. 
 Frederick crossed the Oder with a large army in August, 
 1157, and in a short time forced Boleslav to conclude a 
 treaty whereby he agreed to reinstate Wladislav II., who, 
 i on. his l^art, promised to assist Barbarossa with 300 soldiers 
 I at^hig next campaign, and to give him a considerable amount 
 money for his expenses. Denmark and Hungary also 
 pleaded at the same Reichstag for the emperor’s protec- 
 tion, which he gave on their pledging him allegiance. So 
 great, indeed, had Barbarossa’s reputation risen that, on 
 the Reichstag of Wuerzburg, in 1157, there were present, 
 besides the German princes and prelates, embassadors from 
 Greece, Italy, France, Burgundy, Denmark, England, and 
 Spain. Henry H. of England sent him valuable presents, 
 accompanied by a letter wherein he acknowledged Barba- 
 rossa as a ruler even over England ; the Holy Roman Em- 
 pire, of which he was chief, including, at least theoretically, 
 
 _ all Christendom. 
 
 But while affairs in Germany were thus being placed in 
 order and systematized, and while Frederick’s power and 
 fame were spreading over all Europe, Italy, his most cher- 
 ished possession, had again fallen back into a state of rebel- 
 lion against the German emperor. Most of the cities of 
 Lombardy refused to pay taxes, and each city demanded the 
 
122 
 
 The Westemi. 
 
 right to make laws of its own, instead of following the laws 
 established by Frederick for all Lombardy and ratified by 
 all the citizens of that country. Milan, the most poAverfiil 
 of these cities, led this rebellion, and at the same time Avaged 
 remorseless war upon all cities that would not implicitly 
 ( obey her decrees. 
 
 It was not, therefore, as stated before, for a republican 
 and local form of republicanism that Lombardy strove. 
 The Avhole movement Avas started, indeed, mainly by the 
 larger cities, Avho had conspired to subject to their absolute 
 taxation and jurisdiction all smaller places in their neighbor- 
 hood. Milan, as has been said, Avas the leader of this 
 rebellion. Many of the other Lombardian cities, that had 
 purposed to remain true to Frederick, sent him deputation- 
 after deputation, urging his immediate return to Lombardy 
 for the restoration of order. Anxious as the emperor AA^as 
 to do this, he Avas unable to march across the Alps until 
 July, 1158, having first dispatched Otto von Wittelsbach, 
 one of his trustiest AA^arriors, and the Chancellor Kainald, 
 one of his most accomplished counselors, to make prepara- 
 tions for his reception in the Lombardian cities, encourage 
 his adherents, and increase their number. This embassy 
 Avas received Avith great honors at Verona and the adjoining 
 cities ; Avent thence to Mantua and Cremona, at Avhich latter 
 place the archbishops of Milan and Ravenna, besides fifteen 
 bishops and many deputations from other cities, had come to 
 render homage, and finally took their AA^ay to Ravenna, and 
 thence, by Avay of Romini, to Ankora. At the latter place 
 they found many Greek emissaries, Avhose real mission aa^is 
 to obtain possession of the main sea-ports of the eastern 
 Italian coast for the Byzantiaii Empire, Avhile they pre- 
 
 tended to be there only to recruit solcliers against William 
 
 of Sicily and Naples, Avho Avas then in Avar Avith the pope.. 
 These men Avere all ordered to retire from the place, and 
 advised to discontinue their practices. 
 
 MeauAvliile, Frederick’s army had advanced into Italy in 
 
Frederick Barbarossa. 
 
 123 
 
 three divisions, each division having been steadily increased 
 on its onward march upon Milan, in front of which now 
 strongly fortified city the army, said to have been composed 
 of 15,000 horsemen and 100,000 footmen, arrived about 
 August 6, 1158. Venice, Brescia, Cremona, Vicenza, 
 Pavia, Nevara, Asti, Vercelli, Como, Reggio, and other 
 Lombardian cities had largely contributed to this reinforce- 
 ment of Frederick’s army. In view of the strong for- 
 tifications of Milan, Barbarossa had determined to compel 
 the city to surrender by cutting off all its supplies. In 
 this he succeeded completely. Want of money and pro- 
 visions, and the ravages of malarious fevers, so weakened 
 the proud mind of the Milanese that, at the suggestion of 
 Guido Blandrate, an embassy was sent to negotiate with 
 Frederick for peace. This was concluded on September 
 3d, under the following conditions : Milan to rebuild 
 the cities of Lodi and Como, which, in its feuds, it had 
 completely destroyed, and those cities to remain independ- 
 ent ; all citizens of Milan to swear allegiance to Frederick, 
 and the city to pay 9,000 marks of silver to the emperor, 
 the empress, and the nobles ; Milan then to be no longer 
 under ban, but to pay taxes like all other cities, and to 
 abolish all claims inherent in the emperor’s sovereignty, 
 such as coining money, levying taxes, etc. ; and, these 
 matters having been arranged, the city to be relieved 
 from the imperial troops. After this treaty had been 
 ratified, Frederick removed his troops outside of the 
 city, and had them drawn up in two lines, through which 
 the Milanese were ordered to pass and swear allegiance 
 to Frederick, whose throne was erected in the center 
 of the lines. The Archbishop Obertus, the clergy, and 
 the monks — carrying crosses, censers, and other churchly 
 vessels — were the first to pass, and each one knelt before the 
 emperor’s throne. Obertus of Pirovana, the chief of the 
 archbishops, ventured to ask pity for Milan. Frederick 
 lifted him up, kissed him, and had him seated. Then came 
 
124 
 
 The Western. 
 
 twelve burgomasters, the council of the city, and the nobles^ 
 all barefooted and wearing their unsheathed swords around 
 their necks, and, finally, all the citizens of Milan, with ropes - 
 around their necks, pale, and in great distress. All knelt 
 at the emperor’s throne. When this ceremony had been 
 ended, the Obertus ab Orto, the burgomaster of Milan, arose 
 and thus addressed the emperor : “We have sinned; we 
 have done wrong ; we entreat your pardon ; we place our 
 swords at your feet, and our lives in your hands.” 
 
 Frederick replied coldly : “I am glad that the Milanese 
 have at last preferred peace to war, and have not made it 
 necessary that I should do them evil. How much misfor- 
 tune would have been averted, and how much good could 
 have been accomplished, if the citizens of Milan had taken 
 this view at the start ! I would rather rule over obedient 
 subjects than over slaves ; I would reward rather than 
 punish,” etc. 
 
 After the subjugation of Milan, Frederick moved to the 
 Roncalian fields, where he erected his camp with a splendor 
 hitherto unknown. The magnificent pavilion of the emperor 
 towered high, and was surrounded by the little less gorgeous 
 tents of the other princes, ‘according to their respective rank. 
 From this center straight streets ran in all directions ; and, 
 the camp having been so placed as to be divided by the 
 River Po, a bridge was erected across the stream, making 
 the whole encampment appear like a new city built on two 
 sides of a river. Italians occupied the one side, Germans 
 the other. Here the emperor caused the four most re- 
 nowned lawyers of that time, Bulgarins, Josias, Jacobus 
 Hugolinus, and Hugo de Porta Ravennate, to revise, collect, 
 and correct all the laws of the various cities of Lombardy 
 into one common statute-book. “And when these laws,” 
 said Frederick, “ shall once have been given, there shall be 
 no further talk about the law, but only judgment rendered 
 according to the law.” 
 
 The Lombards did not entirely approve these new laws,. 
 
Frederick Barba rossa . 
 
 125 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
 Avliich fixed all legal matters on a fixed basis ; whereas, before, 
 the laws had been so irregular and disordered that each 
 party to a cause took the law in his own hand, and sought to 
 gain by violence what the law kept in a state of perpetual 
 uncertainty. Nevertheless, things passed off pretty quietly ; 
 even the Genoese — strongl}^ on the Ghibelline side — made a 
 special compact with Frederick, stipulating exemption from 
 taxes, but pronouncing themselves ready to take the oath of 
 allegiance. If Frederick had not sent his army home imme- 
 diately after the subjugation of Milan, his terms with Genoa 
 and Venice would unquestionably have been far more severe ; 
 as it was, he made as fair terms as he could with both cities. 
 
 /But this enforced peace did not last long ; and, while Milan 
 prepared for a new struggle, the pope, Adrian IV., became 
 more and more unfriendly to Frederick — mainly because of 
 the constantly growing power of the German emperor, but 
 partly, also, on account of the Countess Matilda’s possessions, 
 which, by a previous agreement, had been assigned to Welf 
 VI., an uncle of Frederick’s, who, however, leaving others 
 — amongst them the pope himself — to take possession of the 
 greater part of Matilda’s vast estates and valuables, had 
 taken for himself only a small portion. Thus there had 
 arisen a series of complicated disputes regarding the title to 
 Matilda’s possessions, and Frederick, in revising the Lom- 
 bardian laws, was called to pass upon that title. He 
 decided that his uncle, Welf VI., the brother of Matilda’s 
 husband, was lawfully entitled to all of her estate. This 
 had caused great ire on the part of the pope, and led to a 
 very angry correspondence ; the pope at the same time stir- 
 ring up the cities of northern Italy to another revolt against 
 the Hohenstauffen rule. 
 
 To illustrate how far this animosity between the emperor 
 and the pope had grown at this time, let me quote the fol- 
 lowing correspondence between Adrian and Frederick. 
 Adrian, in writing to Frederick Barbarossa, says : 
 
 “ The Holy Bible promises to every one who honors his 
 
126 
 
 The Western. 
 
 father and mother long life upon earth, and threatens with 
 destruction every one who shall disobey this command. It 
 says, further : ‘ He who puts himself on high shall be low- 
 ered.’ Hence, dearest son of the Lord, we are astonished 
 that thou dost not show us the proper reverence, and dost 
 not keep thy sworn pledges ; that, in thy waitings addressed 
 to us, thou placest thy name before our own ; that thou re- 
 quirest fealty only from those who, after all, are only chil- 
 dren — that is, from bishops — and takest their sanctified 
 hands in thy own, whilst thou lockest the doors of thy 
 churches in their face, and even refusest them admit- 
 tance into thy cities. Awake, therefore ; awake, lest, in 
 venturing after what belongs to another, thou losest thy 
 own.” 
 
 To which Barbarossa replied : “ Frederick, by the grace 
 of God Emperor and Augustus of the Eomans, desires the 
 pontifex of the Romish Church to attend only to that which 
 Christ has begun to do and teach. The law of justice allows 
 to each one his own, and we are determined not to cede any 
 of the rights which have been transmitted to us by our ven- 
 erable ancestors. What temporal power had the Church at 
 the time of Constantine? Only through Constantine’s mild- 
 ness did the Church obtain peace and freedom, and whatsoever 
 the popes may now possess they hold only as presents from 
 the kings and princes. If, in our letter to you, we place 
 our name before your name, and allow you to do the same 
 in your letters, we do nothing out of the way, as you ought 
 to have known from the study of ancient writings. When 
 your bishops protest that they are only God’s children, and 
 yet take from us our royal rights ; when they refuse to 
 acknowledge lien’s rights and lien’s oath, we are unable to 
 find any reason for this course of action, expressly since 
 your and our Great Teacher (who received nothing from 
 kings, but generously gave away all He had) voluntarily 
 paid taxes to the emperor for Himself and Petrus. Thereby 
 He set you an example which 3^011 should follow, and a doc- 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 127 
 
 trine which you ought to take to heart : ‘ Be ye taught by 
 
 me, for I am gentle-hearted, and humble of heart.’ Hence, 
 let those men either renounce all possessions and incomes, or, 
 if they find it so better, let them give to God all that belongs 
 to God, and unto Caesar all that is Caesar’s. We closed our 
 churches and cities against your cardinals because we found 
 that they were not preachers, but robbers ; not friends of 
 peace, but spoliators of coins ; not men who improve the lands 
 under their hands, but insatiable collectors of gold. When- 
 ever Koine shall send us embassadors of the kind which the 
 Church needs, who will bring peace, enlighten the people, 
 and kindly assist the afflicted, we shall support her in every 
 manner. * * * this we were compelled to write to 
 
 you, since we saw" that arrogance, this abominable beast, 
 had crept up even into the chair of St. Peter. Attend, 
 therefore, in the right manner to the peace of the Church, 
 and all will be w^ell wuth you.” 
 
 Frederick had thus scarcely put order into the affairs of 
 Lombardy when he found himself almost at wuir again, and 
 foresaw the necessity of quenching all such uprisings against 
 the imperial rule for the future by one special and terrible 
 example, and for that purpose chose Milan, as the center of 
 all insubordination against imperial rule ; and Milan soon 
 gave him an opportunity to carry out his plan. 
 
 Learning this, Adrian, to increase the strength of his 
 party, sent circulars to the Lombardians encouraging them 
 in their resistance to Frederick, made a treaty wdth William 
 of Sicily whereby the hitter agreed to support the pope, and 
 sent letters to several archbishops in Germany urging them 
 to stir up revolts against the emperor at home. The Ger- 
 man prelates, however, kept true to Frederick. 
 
 As the opposition of the Lombardians to the new system 
 •of taxation — accepted solemnly by them on the Roncalian 
 fields — increased under papal and Milanese provocations, 
 Frederick found it necessary to order new troops from Gdr- 
 
128 
 
 The Western. 
 
 many to fortify Lodi and Como — ^the cities which had suf- 
 fered more than all the others from Milan — and renew his 
 friendship with all cities that were favorably inclined toward 
 him. Having achieved this purpose, he sent his two faith- 
 ful embassadors, Pfalzgraf Otto and Chancellor Kainald, to 
 Milan to demand of that city why it had elected consuls, or 
 podesta (mayors), without the prior nomination of those 
 officials by the emperor. The Milanese replied that the 
 treaty of August, 1158, between the emperor and Milan, 
 allowed the Milanese the right to elect their own mayors, and 
 that the emperor had merely power to confirm their nomi- 
 nations. The German embassadors replied that the later 
 code, accepted by the Milanese themselves, had changed the 
 former treaty in that respect completely. After several 
 attempts to come to an understanding, it became evident 
 that it was impossible to arrive at an agreement. The Ger- 
 man embassadors thereupon retired to their place of resi- 
 dence, but not before the object and end of the conference 
 had become known to the people of the city, who imme- 
 diately formed themselves into a mob, and, following the 
 embassadors with the cry of “ Death ! ” “ Death ! ” began 
 throwing stones through the windows of their dwelling and 
 trying to force the doors. It was only due to the arrival of 
 the consuls in the nick of time that the mob was finally dis- 
 persed. The consuls appeared sincerely distressed, and 
 implored the embassadors to pardon this violent outbreak 
 of the people, remain with them until some agreement could 
 be made, and, above all, not to bring the matter up before 
 the emperor. But the embassadors concluded not to trust 
 to the Milanese, and, having made their escape in the night, 
 rode off to inform the emperor of their adventure. F rederick 
 was violently excited. “ Milan,” said he, “ has trod into 
 the mud the very sacredness of embassadors, which even 
 barbarians respect. Their repentance has changed into stub- 
 bornness ; their obedience into rebellion. Such outrage can 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 129 
 
 originate only in the wickedness of many, and punishment 
 must, therefore, be levied also upon many, and with sever- 
 ity, according to the law.” 
 
 Without proceeding to extremities at once, however, 
 Frederick awaited new reinforcements from Germany. The 
 citizens of Milan, also, did in no way diminish their labors in 
 constructing new defenses, and even making arrangements 
 for attacking the expected besiegers ; for they knew their lot 
 beforehand. Frederick had announced, after consulting the 
 best Milanese jurists, that the city of Milan should be put un- 
 der ban, owing to the non-appearance of their officials before 
 the emperor, after several summons ; their goods and valu- 
 ables should be open to plunder, their persons subjected to 
 servitude, and the city to destruction. The Milanese, how- 
 ever, did not await the issue of this manifesto, but, on April 
 16, 1159, moved with a considerable force upon Trenzo, one 
 of Frederick’s cities. The news reached the emperor at 
 Bologna, whilst celebrating the festival of Easter. Imme- 
 diately Frederick advanced with his army in support of 
 Trenzo, but came too late, as the city had already surren- 
 dered. Frederick then returned to Bologna, having first 
 destroyed all the crops, vineyards, and trees around Milan, 
 and cutoff, so far as possible, the city’s means of communi- 
 cation, thus placing it again in a state of starvation. While 
 this caused great depression amongst some of the citizens 
 of Milan, in others it awoke new heroism and patriotic reso- 
 lution to defend the city to the last. To such a degree of 
 desperation did these feelings impel the Milanese, that even 
 attempts to assassinate the emperor were made. Mean- 
 while, Frederick’s army continued to increase and, whilst 
 keeping Milan well covered, he advanced with a portion of 
 his troops upon Crema, which had been almost as bitterly 
 opposed to the imperial rule as Milan, and had caused equal 
 devastation amongst other anti-Milan cities. After a seven- 
 months’ siege, Crema was obliged to surrender on January 27, 
 1160. The citizens, 20,000 in number, were permitted to 
 
130 
 
 The Western. 
 
 leave, and bring along as much baggage as they could carry. 
 The troops of succor sent by Milan and Brescia to Crema 
 had to leave without arms or bao;<ya£:e. The remainino^ arms 
 and other means of warfare were sent to the citizens of 
 Lodi and Cremona — cities true to Frederick and bitterly hos- 
 tile to Milan, Crema, and Brescia. The city Crema itself 
 was then abandoned to the soldiers for plunder ; and, as v^ery 
 little of value had been left, the enraged soldiers set lire to 
 the place. The emperor then entered the city of Pavia, and 
 wrote home about the great triumph achieved by the de- 
 struction of Crema, and the great humanity exhibited by 
 him in sparing the lives of all inhabitants. 
 
 It was now Milan’s turn, but a new event compelled 
 Frederick to wait still longer before proceeding to act. 
 During the siege of Crema, Pope Adrian had died, Septem- 
 ber 1, 1159, and the college of cardinals was divided into 
 two parties, the one party fiworing Boland Bandilini, after- 
 wards called Alexander III., and the other party supporting 
 the Cardinal Octavion, who took the name of Victor IV. 
 Each pope claimed to be properly elected. IVhen the 
 <Mnperor heard of this disastrous schism amongst the cardi- 
 nals, and its result, he, as the head of the Holj^ Boman 
 Empire, invited all the prelates of his own and all other 
 Christian empires to meet in convention at Pavia, “ for, as 
 there should be only one emperor in the Christian world, so 
 ought there also to be only one pope.” Alexander III. 
 declined this invitation, claiming the supreme control on the 
 part of the pope over all temporal and spiritual affairs, and 
 A'indicating the validity of his own election. Victor, how- 
 ever, who felt sure of Frederick’s support, acceded to the 
 proposal of the emperor. The convention was opened on 
 February 5, 1160, and opened by the emperor in person, 
 who, after stating that although his predecessors, Karl the 
 Great and Otto the Great, had presided at similar conven- 
 tions of the Church, said he did not feel inclined to interfere 
 in the present convention, and would ratheiTeave the church- 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 131 
 
 men to settle the matter amongst themselves. He there- 
 upon retired, and with him retired all laymen. After a seven- 
 days’ session, the convention — composed of about fifty or 
 sixty bishops, and many abbots — declared Victor the law- 
 fully elected pope. Frederick, the princes, and the peo- 
 ple indorsed the declaration of the convention, and, on 
 February 11th, Victor was taken from his cloister, clothed 
 ill papal robes and mounted, the emperor himself holdiiur 
 the bridle and the stirrups, and led to the church, where 
 
 ( solemn mass was held. Victor, immediately upon his in- 
 stallation, put his opponent, Alexander III., under the bnn, 
 and Alexander III., on his part, not to be behindhand, 
 excommunicated both Frederick and Victor. Milan, therc- 
 * upon, naturally took the part of Alexander. Under these 
 circumstances Frederick sent the larger part of his forces 
 home again — their time of service having already long 
 expired — and ordered them to return next year, with as 
 many new- recruits as possible. With the remaining troo})s 
 he camped during the winter, closing more and more upon 
 Milan, but engaging in only a few skirmishes. In the 
 spring of 1161 new reinforcements arrived from Germany, 
 and, in August, Milan was for the second time regularly 
 besieged by Barbarossa. By the end of that year, 1161, 
 the want of food had already reached such extremities that 
 a great part of the citizens favored immediate surrender of 
 the city on the best possible terms. Only the clergy, 
 under the influence of Pope Alexander, advised prolonged 
 resistance. Finally, the state of afiairs in Milan became so 
 untenable that a deputation was sent to Frederick to negoti- 
 . ate with him for the city on the following terms : 
 
 The citizens of Milan agreed to destroy all their fortifica- 
 tions, and not to rebuild them without the emperor’s con- 
 sent ; to repair the castle and palace at their own expense ; 
 to reverence all alliances ; to quarter the imperial army in 
 the city ; to deliver to him 300 of their prominent citizens 
 as hostages for their good behavior ; to allow the emperor 
 
132 
 
 The Western. 
 
 to nominate their officials, and to pay him a large sum of 
 money. 
 
 That these enormous concessions would be received with- 
 out further parley by the emperor Avas never doubted ; 
 and yet, when they were laid before the imperial council, a 
 division of opinion became at once apparent. Some coun- 
 seled their acceptance, so as not to increase dissatisfaction 
 by measures too severe ; Avhile others, and especiall}" the 
 <leputies of those Lombardian cities who had most cruelly 
 suffered from the despotism of Milan, declared that the unlim- 
 ited insults Avhich the majesty of the Holy Koman Empire 
 had suffered so long from this one city could be expiated 
 only by unlimited submission. Frederick also favored this 
 view, and the Milanese Avere compelled to submit uncondi- 
 tionally. 
 
 On March 1, 1162, the highest city official of Milan, and 
 scverivT nobles, appeared at the imperial camp, and, kneeling 
 l)efore the emperor and the assembled princes, agreed to 
 submit themselves unconditionally to the emperor’s author- 
 ity, and promised that all the citizens of Milan should do the 
 same. On the 4th, therefore, 300 select men of the city 
 appeared before the emperor, and resigned submissh^ely the 
 keys of all their toAvers and castles, and thirty-six of the 
 main flags of the city ; Avhereupon they also took the 
 oath of allegiance. On March 6th, hnally, the Avhole 
 body of citizens — cords around their necks, ashes on their 
 heads, and crucifixes in their hands — passed through the 
 gates of Milan. The procession Avas closed b}^ an immense 
 Avagon, strongly fortihed b}^ iron, from Avhose center arose 
 a high mast-tree, fastened strongl}^ Avith iron rings, ribbons, 
 strings, etc. On the top of the mast appeared a crucifix, 
 and St. Ambrosius in the attitude of benediction. Fred- 
 erick Avas at dinner Avhen the procession arrived, but did 
 not rise from the table until the dinner Avas finished, leaAung 
 the Milanese to Avait for him in the midst of a heaA^y rain. 
 
 Finally he ascended a throne, surrounded b}^ the chief of 
 his princes and nobles. Once more the Milanese flag- 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 133 
 
 l)earers waved their flags and sounded their trumpets, and 
 then the procession passed on, each division laying down its 
 flags and trumpets at the emperor’s feet. At last came the 
 grand wagon with its towering mast — the Oarrocio^ the chief 
 war emblem of Milan. Slowly the mast was loAvered, the 
 wagon split into pieces, and proud Milan’s glory seemed 
 gone forever. Amidst the tears and lamentations of the 
 Milanese the Count of Blandrate advanced to implore the 
 mercy of the emperor for the city and its inhabitants. The 
 eyes of most of the princes were tearful at beholding this 
 humiliation of proud Milan ; only the emperor and his chan- 
 cellor, Kainald, remained unmoved. At last Frederick 
 arose, and, addressing the Milanese, said : 
 
 “That mildness which is consonant with justice you 
 shall have. According to law, each one of you has forfeited 
 his life. I will grant life to you all, and take only such 
 measures as shall make it impossible for you hereafter to 
 commit similar crimes.” 
 
 Unable to imagine what those other measures might be, 
 the citizens of Milan returned in great tribulation to their 
 homes, Avhile Frederick himself went onward t o Fa^ja . there 
 to determine in open convention the fliial fate of Milan, 
 'fhe most prominent men of Lombardy, most of the bishops, 
 and the chief officials of many Lombardian cities were 
 assembled. The latter were in favor of the most severe 
 measures. “ The cup of misery,” said they, “ which Milan 
 has prepared for so many other cities should now be pre- 
 pared for herself. Milan has destroyed Como and Lodi, 
 and other imperial cities ; let Milan, therefore, also be 
 destroyed.” 
 
 The sentence which Avas finally adopted, and read in 
 presence of the chief officials of Milan, was as follows : 
 
 “Milan to be laid Avaste ; all the inhabitants to leave it 
 Avithin eight days, and to take up their homes in four differ- 
 eut places, each of AAffiich is to be ten miles from the other.” 
 
134 
 
 The Western u 
 
 This blow crushed the hopes of even the most stub- 
 l)orii uud hopeful ; those Avho had friends or relatives in 
 other places emigrated, and the utterly helpless hid them- 
 selves in cloisters, churches, and low huts. 
 
 It was on the 26th of March that the emperor for the 
 second time entered Milan with his whole army ; this time, 
 however, not through the magnificent- gates of the city, but 
 through a breach made in its walls, and witnessing that woe- 
 ful scene so graphically sketched in the little ballad quoted 
 before. His mission in northern Italy, on which he had 
 wasted now over seven years, seemed fulfilled ; all the other 
 rebellious cities, such as Brescia, Piacenza, Imola, Faenza, 
 Bologna, and others, having submitted to his terms immedi- 
 ately after the destruction of Milan. 
 
 I In the fall of 1162 Frederick, after so many years’ absence 
 from his German Empire, was recalled to put an end to new 
 disturbances that had broken out with his quarrelsome sub- 
 jects. The main trouble had occurred at Mayence, where the 
 citizens in a mob-riot had murdered the archbishop, Arnold 
 ( 1160), whose many friends now called loudly for vengeance, 
 and punishment of the leaders of the revolt. Frederick 
 called a Meichstag, or Council, together at Mayence, in the 
 spring of 1163, had the matter thoroughly investigated, 
 and the instigators severely punished. The city itself was 
 made to suffer by having it^ walls pulled down. Shortly 
 afterwards, in the fall of 1163, Frederick Avas again sum- 
 moned to Italy, leaving his German princes and prelates 
 again to indulge in their interminable bickerings and 
 quarrels. 
 
 This, his third journey to Italy, the emperor made Avith- 
 out an army, hoping to achieve a peaceable reconciliation 
 between the Lombards themselves, as Avell as betAveen him- 
 self and the hostile cities of Lombardy. For, immediately 
 after the destruction of iMilan and the departure of Frederick 
 for Germany, these hostile cities had once more risen in 
 
Frederich Barharossa. 
 
 135 
 
 revolt against their German rulers. Nor did they do so 
 without cause, for the German tax-assessors and collectors 
 were as rapacious a set of office-holders as ever collected 
 revenue — and revenue-collectors are not popular people at 
 the best. Besides, German arrogance was as distasteful to 
 the Italians of that day as Austrian superciliousness was to 
 the people of Venice and Lombardy before the days of Sol- 
 ferino. It rankled in their minds, moreover, that the Ger- 
 mans should rob them of their art-treasures and saint-relics, 
 as they certainly did, setting thereby a bad example to future 
 leaders of conquering armies, which Napoleon I., amongst 
 others, did not fail to folloAV. There was a great outcry, 
 for instance, Avhen Frederick’s chancellor, Kainald, the 
 emperor’s Avisest counselor, but a man also of consideral)le 
 unscrupulousness, AAdio had l)een left in charge of the, 
 administration of affairs in northern Italy, took ruthless 
 hold of the bodies of the three Avise •men from the East, 
 that Avere the boast of the Milan cathedral, and had them 
 j, transported to Cologne, to join the l)odies of the 11,000 
 or more mythical virgins also interred in that famous city 
 on the Bhine. 
 
 The first step Avhich Frederick took on his arrival in Italy 
 Avas to issue a proclamation calling together a convention of 
 delegates from all parts of Lombardy, at Avhich their 
 (quarrels and complaints Avere to be examined and adjudi- 
 cated. But this convention proved a lamentable failure. 
 Each city had a special grievance, and nourished unappeas- 
 able envy against its rival. Frederick could not, therefore, 
 please any of them ; he did either too much or too little. 
 
 While the emperor Avas placed in this disagreeable 
 position, the hostile cities of Lombardy felt themselves 
 encouraged by the additional strength that gathered around 
 Pope Alexander in his French exile. This indomital)le 
 priest had called a general church assembly to meet at 
 Tours, in May, 1163, Avhere all the clergy of Great Britain, 
 
 Vol. 4, No. 2—10. 
 
The Western. 
 
 
 Krancfi.,_iuid Spain rallied, pledgeiniiiii.-tli^.i;i^^ and 
 indorsed the excoinmnnication of Emperor Frederick and 
 Pope Victor. Even the kings of France and England met 
 him at Toney and held his stirrups — the news of which gave 
 Frederick great annoyance. Nor did the death of Pope 
 Victor, April 20, 1164, improve Frederick's position. It 
 s(Hmis quite probable that he was personally inclined to 
 take advantage of this opportunity to effect a reconciliation 
 with Alexander, but Rainald had hastily — two days after 
 Victor’s death — in conjunction with sonic cardinals, elected 
 (jiiido of Cremo as the legitimate successor of Victor, 
 under the name of Paschal III., and Frederick did not think 
 it proper to disown Rainald ’ s act. This still further enraged 
 the Lombardian cities. Even Venice, which had taken the 
 part of the emperor against Milan, now arose against him — 
 partly instigated thereto by the Emperor Emanuel of 
 (ireece, who had some hopes of securing a foothold in 
 northern Italy, and of ultimately uniting Italy and Greece 
 under one rule — and concluded an alliance with Verona, 
 Padua, Vincenza, and Treviso.^ Frederick hurried to 
 Verona in order to break up this new combination, but, find- 
 ing that he had not troops enough, made overtures of friend- 
 ship to Venice’s rival, Genoa, and in the fall of 1164 hur- 
 riedly returned to Germany to raise an army and subdue 
 this new and unexpected outbreak. 
 
 But in Germany he was detained longer than he had 
 expected. Feuds had to be checked, disputes settled, and 
 o[)en revolts quenched and punished. The emperor called 
 a Reichstag, to meet at Wuerzburg, in the summer of 1165. 
 
 ' Note. — It may be worth while to call the attention of the modern reader 
 to the geographical features which unite Greece to Turkey, and make Austria 
 and Italy an ally of that Union. Nay, it may be even excusable, in a desultory 
 historical sketch like this, to point out that the mission of Great Britain lies 
 not as it did in the time of Napoleon L, who did ?iot believe in railroads in 
 the way of Malta, the Dardanelles, and East India, but in the way of Egypt 
 and Africa. 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 137 
 
 At this solemnity there appeared, to Frederick’s great 
 'delight, embassadors from King Henry II. of England, who 
 had become disgusted with Pope Alexander’s conduct in his 
 quarrel with Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbuiy, 
 and who now heartily regretted having held the proud 
 pope’s stirrups at Toney. Frederick succeeded in tempo- 
 rarily gaining Henry over to the cause of Pope Paschal ; 
 and, to secure his alliance still more firmly, arranged a mar- 
 riage between two of Henry’s daughters and the Welfish 
 Henry the Lion and one of his own sons. Having a little 
 spare time on hand at the end of the year, while his princes 
 were collecting their forces for the next year’s march on 
 Jtaly y^ Frederick devoted it to having his great prototype, 
 Charlemagne, admitted amongst the saints. This was done 
 at Aachen, December 29th, by Pope Paschal, with great and 
 impressive ceremonies, and, although Alexander did not 
 think Karl the Great a specially fit companion for the com- 
 pany of saints, he, as well as the subsequent popes, felt it 
 incumbent upon them to recognize Paschal’s act. 
 
 While Frederick was preparing for his fourth expedition 
 to Italy, Alexander had quietly forestalled his imperial 
 enemy by leaving his French letreat, in August, 1165, for 
 Koine. Being pursued by some Pisa ships, who had heard 
 of his departure from Montpellier, the pope was compelled 
 to change his course and steer for Sicil}^ Here he arrived 
 safely at Messina, and met with a cordial reception from 
 King William, who placed a war vessel at his disposal, and 
 had him conveyed to the mouth of the Tiber. When this 
 became known at Kome, the whole city turned out to meet 
 him, and on November 23d he was safely housed in the 
 Lateral! palace. 
 
 It was not till one year later, in November, 1166, that 
 the emperor, for the fourth time, arrived in Italy. He 
 stopped at Lodi, where a general rendezvous of all his 
 forces was to take place, with a view to advance upon 
 
138 
 
 The Western, 
 
 ^ Rome, expel Alexander, and reinstate Paschal. This ad» 
 vance took place in the spring of the next year, 1167, but 
 was checked for a time by the desperate measures of the 
 hostile cities of Lombardy. Cremona, Bergamo, Brescia, 
 \ Mantua, Ferrara, and other places, swore resistance to the 
 / bitter end to Frederick’s Italian administration of affairs. 
 Even the scattered, humbled Milanese gathered new cour- 
 age and returned to the ruins of their deserted city (April, 
 1167), which was rebuilt and refortified in an incredibly short 
 time. Nay, even Lodi, the emperor’s most faithful strong- 
 / hold, was compelled to join the insurrection. Frederick, 
 meanwhile, seemed to regard all this stir with indifference, 
 and contented himself with besieging Ankona, in order to 
 secure a place of retreat if it should become necessary. 
 ^ While he was engaged in this undertaking the Romans 
 themselves turned out in defense of Alexander. An army 
 of 30,000 pien was sent out to attack Rainald. Hearing 
 of this, Frederick ordered Archbishop Christian, of May- 
 ence, to Rainald’ s assistance, and that redoubtable war- 
 rior, in spite of the numerically vast inferiority of his 
 forces, threw himself upon the Romans with such impetu- 
 osity that 2,000 of them were killed, 3,000 taken prison- 
 ers: and the rest driven back to Rome, before the o’ates of 
 r . . ^ 
 
 \ which city Christian’s German troops now took up their 
 
 \ quarters. This disgusted Alexander, who sent for assist- 
 l ance to the new king of Sicily, William II. In this 
 j negotiation the pope was successful. The Sicilian king 
 \ sent him an army by land, and had two vessels placed at 
 the mouth of the Tiber, to secure Alexander’s flight should 
 it become necessary. Frederick, meanwhile, grown tired of 
 the Ankona siege, had. effected a treaty of peace with the 
 citizens, and joined his army to that of Christian in front of 
 Rome. Alexander was compelled to leave the city, and 
 Paschal was duly placed on the papal chair. Everything 
 now seemed favorable to the emperor, and he was dreaming 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 131) 
 
 already the fatal dream of a further southward advance, and 
 annexation of all southern Italy and Sicily to his empire, 
 when a terribl^ mal arial disease broke out in his army and 
 compelled him to leave Rome. He arrived at Pavia with 
 his army fearfully reduced. The cities of Lombardy saw 
 in this the hand of God, and took new courage. Frederick 
 realized that he had not forces enough to maintain himself. 
 In March, 1168, he retreated to Susa with but a small force. 
 Here the discovery of a plot to assassinate him led the 
 emperor to take to flight at night, accompanied by only five 
 men, together with whom he finally reached the German 
 frontier. 
 
 He did not appear humbled or downcast on his return, 
 but was wise enough for the seven years following to devote 
 himself chiefly to the interests of his more immediate king- 
 dom, and its advancement in science, literature, architect- 
 ure, legislation, and poetry. The Minnesong had now 
 already made considerable progress, and songs like the fob 
 lowing may already have been heard : 
 
 A LOVE SONG, BY SIR MILO VON SEVELINGEN. 
 
 The Knight : 
 
 “ I live in noble manner — in the world none better live ; 
 
 My thoughts, though, still stay mourning, nor can aught comfort give, 
 
 Except a noble woman, whom as my life I rate. 
 
 My eyes have never litten on fairer woman yet ; 
 
 Hence, meetly sound her praises : 
 
 In her there is no change, how slight. 
 
 That day I’ll ever honor, as I her favor value. 
 
 When her sweet eye shall beam me bright. 
 
 I bear love of a ladj^ I know full well wherefore ; 
 
 Since I began to serve her, pleased she me more and more. 
 
 Aye, dearer, and still dearer, thus is she at all times to me. 
 
 Aye, fairer, and still fairer, thus she at all times pleases me. 
 
 She’s blessed with all virtues, 
 
 The noblest gifts her life consort. 
 
 And died I for her dear love, and hied I to a new life then. 
 
 E’en as my bride and love I’d there her court.” 
 
140 
 
 The Western, 
 
 The Lady: 
 
 “Woe the accurs’d watchman, ^ that me great evil wrought I 
 Without my fault they have me into sore scandal brought. 
 
 They think they’ll make me loathe him, if wicked speech they thus* 
 forth send ; 
 
 But let the whole world know it, I am his dear beloved friend ! 
 
 All but close up to him lying — 
 
 This, God knows, I have never done ! — 
 
 Though they pluck out my eyes me, 
 
 My soul will ne’er by other love or other man be won. 
 
 “ My eyes have chosen for me a young and worthy man. 
 
 This envy other women ; I never other harm did plan. 
 
 Then that I did so love him, and that he loves me over all, 
 
 To this love will I turn, now, my heart and all my soul. 
 
 Whoever may his favor have heretofore enjoyed, 
 
 ’Tis her fault if she loses him. 
 
 Yet will I never chide her, if she shows sorrow at my side. 
 
 I saw the summer’s messengers, the flowers so rosy-red ” — 
 
 The Knight's Messenger: 
 
 “ Know’st thou, gentle lady, what a knight would thee have said ? 
 
 Secretly he greets thee, ne’er loved so dear his heart ; 
 
 But his heart is sorrow-saddened ever since you did part. 
 
 Now cheer his mood thou, sweetly, 
 
 This summer-time, so bless’d ! 
 
 Joyous he will be never 
 
 Till in thine arms he cosy lies, by love caress’d.” 
 
 The Lady : 
 
 “ I have been told a story my mood might, in high flight, delight ; 
 
 For he has now turned homeward, before whom grief must take to flight- 
 Now is to my heart’s sorrow leave of absence given gay ; 
 
 His virtues call upon me to follow steadily love for aye. 
 
 I’ll lie up close unto him. 
 
 To this same sweet young man. 
 
 Hail me, he has returned. 
 
 How well he woman’s heart does ken ! ” 
 
 ’ Watchmen, or spyers, were men employed by the noble knights to watch 
 the virtue of their noble wives, and spy upon their noble wives’ noble lovers. 
 To retroact this arrangement between knight-husband and his watcher on the 
 one side, and the knight-lover and the lady on the other side, the watchman 
 received a few pieces of silver more from the latter party, on the understand- 
 ing that he should watch over their safety at the lady’s innumerable meetings- 
 with her knight-lover. Under this eas}^ custom of the country the watchers 
 had grand old times, which are sung in many songs of that period, with appro- 
 priate thankfulness. 
 
Frederick Ba rharossa . 
 
 141 
 
 On the whole, it was of great benehtto Frederick that eir- 
 eumstaiices should have compelled him to turn his thouglits 
 from the conquest of southern Itiily and Sicily to his home 
 duties. That clumsy political construction, the German 
 Empire, was so constantly getting out of order that it 
 required the permanent presence of a master machinist. 
 The prince most dangerous to the emi)eror’s supremacy 
 was Henry the Lion, whose rapacity in the way of annexing 
 lands to his possessions, whether by fair means or foul, Avas 
 ^ illimitable, and continually involved him in broils and wars. ' 
 
 I Barbarossa, lioAvcA^er, had a great personal liking for this 
 foremost of the tVelfs — who was, moreover, a relative — and 
 disregarded the constant AA^arnino's of Rainald, who saAV in 
 Henry the Lion only an unscrupulous rival of Frederick's 
 poAver, and traced his hostility cA^en to the revolt of tho 
 cities of Lombardy and the papal hatred of the Hohenstauf- 
 
 ( fens. To settle Henry the Lion’s quarrels in a friendly Avay 
 was, therefore, the emperor’s first measure after his return 
 to Germany. Another disturbance in the northern part of 
 the empire Avas caused by King Waldemar of. Denmark's 
 descent upon the island of Ruegen, to Avhich Henry the Lion 
 also lent his support. This beautiful island on the Baltic 
 had long been an object of Danish lust of conquest, and, after 
 some cogitation as to Avhat pretext should be advanced for 
 the descent, it Avas suggested that the pretext most unobjec- 
 tionable Avould be the conversion of that northern })aradise 
 of the sea to the cause of Christendom. For the people of 
 Ruegen, like all Prussians, AA^ere heathens of the most primi- 
 tive kind, and Avorshipped a wooden idol, Avhom they called 
 Svantevits, Avith the same implicit faith in his poAver Avhere- 
 Avith the African looks up to his Obi, and Avhich Ave of the 
 I present day point to as an incontestable proof that the 
 / negro Avill never attain the fullness of the Avhite man’s civili- 
 zation. Before the men of Ruegen had any suspicion of . 
 the fate in store for them, a Danish army stood before 
 Arkona, their beautiful capital, overlooking proudly from 
 
142 
 
 The Western. 
 
 its eminence of inaccessible chalk rocks the vast expanse of 
 the Baltic. Its only conne(‘4ion with the mainland was in 
 th(‘ west, and that side was protected by a fifty-feet-high 
 wall. But luck favored the Danes, and in a very short time 
 Arkona was forced to surrender. It is much to be doubted, 
 however, whether any very lasting benefit resulted to the 
 liuegen Pagans from the compulsory christianizing which 
 followed their subjugation, considering that their Prussian 
 descendants are, up to this day, with rare exceptions, still as 
 deeply rooted as ever they were in Pnganism. The only 
 difference is that the Pagans of old worshiped a specified 
 j)iece of matter, shaped into an uncouth form, which they 
 called Svantevits, whereas the Pagans of to-day bow their 
 heads before the collective mass of matter, and call it the 
 Universe ; and that the former gave up all their gold and 
 wealth in general to their god, whereas their descendants rip 
 up the very bowels of their god to extract gold and sil- 
 ver therefrom with which to till their own pockets ; and that, 
 while the former poured out their incense on the altar of 
 their idol, without a thought of their own enjoyment thereof, 
 the latter pour out their incense in the pages of long- 
 perioded books, with not a single thought that their idol may 
 be glorified thereby, but Avith a Anew solely to their own 
 glorification and pocket-money. 
 
 And yet Buegen, beautiful Ruegen, did pass also through 
 a period of charming gladness under her iieAv Christian dis- 
 pensation, as the Minnesinger, some fiftA^ years later, 
 began to travel northward to seek quieter homes for the 
 appreciation of their minstrelsy. Let us cast a glance at 
 this neAV life in liuegen, as it appeared about a century 
 after Barbarossa’s time : Prince Wizlav has been giving a 
 grand entertainment in his beautiful castle hy the sea, and 
 the most famous Minnesingers of that time have appeared 
 to grace it. EA^en Frauenlob has come, courteous and 
 gracious as ever, and shoAving in no AA^ay that he is per- 
 fectly conscious of being the greatest artist of his age. For 
 
Frederick Barharossa 
 
 143 
 
 they are all artists ; all their poetry is elaborately embel- 
 lished, and their measures rhythmically intricate, and the 
 fresh beauty of the old Minnesong has not been heard in the 
 land for many decades. Prince Wizlav himself is a Minne- 
 singer, and has learned all the rules and tricks of his art ; but 
 he also knows nothing of the minstrelsy of former days. 
 But, as the clever singers of his festival finish their strains, 
 an old man, who has listened attentively to the songs with- 
 out attracting notice himself, advances quietly into the 
 center of the hall, and, taking up his little harp-like instru- 
 ment, strikes a few preliminary chords, and sings with a 
 slightly trembling, but still full, voice, which betokens 
 great culture, the following impromptu verses : 
 
 THE LOVERS, BY HENRY VON MORUNGEN. 
 
 “Ah me ! and shall me now nevermore 
 Light through the darksome night 
 The body of my love, and pour 
 Radiance than snow more white ? 
 
 It cheated e’en my gaze. 
 
 Methought ’t must be the blaze 
 Of the moon’s full-orbed face ; 
 
 Then rose the day.” 
 
 “ Ah me, and shall he now nevermore 
 A morning here awake ? 
 
 The night too swiftly passes o’er ; 
 
 No time complaint to make. 
 
 Alas, da}" comes our way ! 
 
 As he sighed when he lay 
 With me at his last stay; 
 
 Then rose the day.” 
 
 “Ah me, she kissed times numberless 
 My lips e’n as I slept ; 
 
 Then trickled down upon my face 
 The precious tears she wept ; 
 
 But I her comforted. 
 
 Till she her weeping stay’d, 
 
 And sweet embrace we play’d , 
 
 Then rose the day.” 
 
144 
 
 The Western. 
 
 “ Ah me, how takes he such delight 
 My body’s form to see ! 
 
 When he my dress drew off, dear knight, 
 
 ’Twas to behold said he. 
 
 My arms uncovered bare. 
 
 I thought it a wonder rare 
 That it should tire him ne’er; 
 
 Then rose the day.” 
 
 Then, pausing a while, and changing the meter, whilst a. 
 smile played around his lips, he began : 
 
 TO MY LADY. 
 
 Lady, wouldst thou cure my pain ? 
 
 Look a little upon me ; 
 
 Struggling longer is in vain. 
 
 And my life must ruined be ; 
 
 I am sick, my heart is wounded ; 
 
 Lady, this have done to me, my eyes and thy sweet red mouth rounded.. 
 
 Lady, look upon my woe ! 
 
 Now, before my life leaves me. 
 
 Speak one word unto me ; lo, 
 
 ’Tis the simplest thing to thee. 
 
 Thou say’st always: No, no, no! 
 
 No, no, no, no, no! — this breaks sheer my heart in two. 
 
 Say, instead, I prithee, lady : Yes, yes, yes, yes ! 
 
 Yes, yes, yes, yes! — this brings my heart blessedness. 
 
 l^eiisively the prince retired to his study, and, taking up 
 his own harp, he sang the following, inventing the melody 
 as the words came to him. In the first verse^, it will 
 he noticed, he followed the elaborate verse construction of 
 his teachers and contemporaries, and then endeavored, 
 though in a rather imperfect way, to chant in the style of 
 the old Minnesinger whom he had just heard : 
 
 THE SONG OF YEARNING, BY PRINCE W’'IZLAV OF RUEGEN. 
 
 The untaught gleeman 
 Improvised a tone of sweetest yearning. 
 
 Thereof suffer I great grief ; for so courtly a tone in vain I try to render. 
 
 This hurts me, leaman 
 
 Of song’s art, who now such tones would fain be learning; 
 
 ’Tis because I never heard it, in my time, that I de'em it so sweet and tender-. 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 145 
 
 Thus has he, by his new song, brought me into great trouble : 
 
 For the women and the men their cry for song redouble ; 
 
 And demand a song of yearning. 
 
 Beautiful and with love burning. 
 
 T*© them all I now reply : my art’s rod has left me, and my tone, back-bounding, 
 Children, now shall wake anew that same old and 3’earning song, so sweetly 
 sounding. 
 
 I must sing in the old yearning manner: 
 
 Could I under pleasure’s banner 
 Kange me even at my will. 
 
 Scattering from me every trace of sorrow, 
 
 I should taste rapture most thorough, 
 
 And my soul with high mood fill. 
 
 Nevermore should I sing songs of yearning; 
 
 But, on life’s way turning, 
 
 Into age keep joy forever burning, 
 
 ^ Without painful thrill. 
 
 In high worth a rare adventure sweetly 
 Love to-day on me wrought neatly ; 
 
 As I pondered on her grace. 
 
 Rose to meet each wish, before my vision. 
 
 Fairest image of petition. 
 
 And into my heart found ways 
 With rare power, spreading a sunlight tender. 
 
 There’s no rapture grander 
 Than if she would gladden with her splendor 
 Whom her love should bless. 
 
 Through my eyes into my heart she entered, 
 
 As a sun therein she centered ; 
 
 When she had flown in so straight, 
 
 She deprives me sheer of all my senses. , 
 
 Loveable love, leave otf thy trances ! 
 
 Look how she has fixed my fate I 
 When the lovely one love’s trap puts open 
 And with love does copen. 
 
 And sweet heart-love seems to grope in. 
 
 Love draws love to mate. 
 
 A. E. Kroeger. 
 
14 () 
 
 The Western. 
 
 MAKARIA. 
 
 A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. 
 
 S. STERNE. 
 
 Dramatis Per'sonce. 
 
 Demophoon — King of Athens, son of Theseus. 
 
 JoLAUS — Nephew of Hercules, and leader of the Heraclides. 
 Adrastus — Soyi of Jolaus' friend, and under his proteetioyi. 
 Alkmene — Mother of Hercules. 
 
 Makaria — Daughter of Hercules. 
 
 The Heraclides — His Sons. 
 
 Kropeus — Herald to King Eurystheus. 
 
 Milos — An Old Athenian. 
 
 The Priestess, at Delphi. 
 
 Messengers, Women, Citizens of Athens, etc. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Adras. I thought to tell the marvelous tale, old man. 
 To other listener ; pour it into ears 
 Other and sweeter far than yours ! Yet, since 
 You, too, have suffered sharpest grief — have given 
 Your dearest for the saving of the city — 
 
 I will content you here ! ’Twas yester noon 
 That, after news of a new bloody fray. 
 
 The king, with all the remnant of stout men 
 The town could barely spare from its defense. 
 
 Moved out to meet the foe. We found him camped 
 A half a league scarce from the city gates. 
 
 And close to him, distant by scarce a stone’s throw. 
 The troops of Hillus, that we joined. And now. 
 
 When our united forces stood drawn up 
 
 In the array of battle, and the field 
 
 Flamed far and wide with thousand glittering arms, 
 
 Hillus sprang from his chariot, and called out 
 
 He’d meet Eurystheus in single combat. 
 
Shalcesj)eariana . 
 
 301 
 
 Harvey’s Third Letter, etc.; Palladis Tamia; "Wit’s Treasury, by Francis 
 Meres ; Stanza from Spenser’s Colin Clouts Come Home Againe; Hexame- 
 ton and Canti of Willobie His Avisa; William Harbert’s Epicedium ; Sixth 
 Yerse of Drayton’s Legend of Matilda ; Extract from William Clarke’s 
 Polimanteia; John Weever’s Twenty-second Epigram, Ad Gulielnum, 
 Shaksperey from his Epigrammes, in the Oldest Cut and Newest Fashion ; 
 Extract from Richard Carew’s Excellencie of the English Tongue ; Stanzas 
 from Robert Toste’s Month’s Mind of a Melancholy Lover ; A Remembrance 
 of Some English Poets, etc. ; Extract from Satyres VII and X of John 
 Marston’s Scourge of Villanie ; also a General Introduction, by C. M. 
 Ingleby, LL.D., explaining various Allusions contained in the Volume. 
 Series IV, No. 1. 8vo. London, 1874. 67d. 
 
 Shakspere’s Authorship of the Two Noble Kinsmen, by the late William 
 Spalding, M.A. ; with a Life of the Author, by John Hill Burton, LL.D. 
 Series VHI, No. 1. 8vo. London, 1876. 67d. 
 
 Shakspere’s England. — Comprising Harrison’s Description of England in 
 Shakspere’s Youth, edited from the first two Editions of Holinshed’s Chroni- 
 cle, A. D. 1577-1587, by Frederick J. Furnivall. Tell-Trothes New Year’s 
 Gift and The Passionate Morrice. 1593. John Lane’s Tom Tell-Troths 
 Message and his Pen’s Complaint. 1600. Thomas Powell’s Tom of All 
 
 ' Trades, or The Plaine Path-Way to Preferment. 1631. The Glasse of 
 Godly Love. 1569. Edited by F. J. Furnivall. Wm. Stafford’s Com- 
 pendious or Briefe Examination of Certayne Ordinary Complaints of divers 
 of our Countrymen in these our Dayes, A. D. 1581 (otherwise called “ A 
 Briefe Conceipt of English Pollic}^ ”), with an Introduction by Frederic D. 
 Matthew. Edited by Furnivall. Philip Stubbes’ Anatomy of the Abuses 
 in England in Shakspere’s Youth, A. D. 1583, with Extracts from Stubbes’ 
 Life of His Wife, the Godly Life and Christian Death of Mistress Katherine 
 Stubbes, etc. Constituting Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, of Series VI. 2 volumes, 8vo. 
 London, 1876, 1877. 67d. 
 
 Transactions of New Shakspere Society. — Contents, Nos. 1 and 2 : On 
 Metrical Tests as applied to Dramatic Poetry ; Paper by Rev. F. G. Flea}’. 
 On the Authorship of The Taming of the Shrew, on the Authorship of Timon 
 of Athens, and on the Play of Pericles ; by Rev. F. G. Fleay. The several 
 Shares of Shakspere and Fletcher in Henry VIII. ; by James Spedding. 
 The Shares of Shakspere and Fletcher in The Two Noble Kinsmen ; by 
 S. Hickson. On the Porter in Macbeth ; by J. W. Hales. On certain Plays 
 of Shakspere of which Portions were written at different Periods of 
 his Life; by Rev. F. G. Fleay. On two Plays of Shakspere’s, the Ver- 
 sion of which, as we have them, are the Results of Alterations by other 
 Hands ; by Rev. F. G. FleajL Mr. Halliwell’s Hint on the Date of Corio- 
 lanus, etc. The Political Use of the Stage in Shakspere’s Time, and the 
 Politics of Shakspere’s Historical Plays; by Richard Simpson. On the 
 “Weak Endings” of Shakspere, etc.; by Jno. K. Ingram. Which are 
 Hamlet’s “Dozen or Sixteen Lines ?” On the Meter of Henry VHI. ; by 
 Mr. Roderick, 
 
302 
 
 The Western. 
 
 Nos. 3 and 4. — On the Corrected Edition of Richard III. ; by Jas. Spedding. 
 On the Quarto and the Folio of Richard III. ; by E. H. Pickersgill. On the 
 Quarto and Folio of King Lear ; by Professor Delius. On “ Evening Mass ” 
 in Romeo and Juliet ; by R. Simpson. On the Bond Story in the Merchant of 
 Venice, and a Version of It in the Cursor Mundi ; by Miss Toulmin Smith. 
 Note upon the “Elf-Locks” in Romeo and Juliet; by J. W. Legg. Lady 
 Macbeth ; by the Countess of Charlemont. On the Character of Banquo ; 
 by Algernon Faggo. On Shakspere’s Use of Narration in his Dramas ; by 
 Professor Delius. On the Authorship of the Second and Third Parts of 
 Henry VL, and their Originals ; by Miss Jane Lee. The Political Element 
 in Massinger ; by Professor S. R. Oardiner. Shakspere’s Dramatic Art; Dr. 
 S. Forman’s Book of Plays, or Notes in 1611 on Shakspere’s Richard IL, 
 Winter’s Tale, Cymbeline, and Macbeth. On the Confusion of Time in The 
 Merry Wives ; by R. G-rant White. The Speeches of Brutus on Caesar, and 
 of Antony over Caesar’s dead Body, from the Englisht Appian’s Chronicle of 
 1578. Account of the German Shakspere Society’s Jahrbuch, 1876; by F. 
 D. Matthew. Collation of the First Edition of Marlowe’s Edward IL, 1594, 
 with Dyce’s Text of 1850 ; by Dr. R. Gen4e. List of Shakspereana since 
 January 1, 1874; by Franz Thimm. Scraps. Indexes to both Volumes. 
 Lengthy and interesting Discussions of the various Papers, by Furnivall, 
 Nicholson, and other Members of the Spciety. Series I, Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4. 2 
 volumes. 8vo. London, 1874-1877. 67d. 
 
 Fred. M. Crunden. 
 
 FREDERICK BARBAROSSA. 
 
 [concluded.] 
 
 After having settled the quarrels of his princes, Frederick 
 hetook himself to settle his estates upon his sons. He 
 caused the eldest, subsequently Henry VI., to be elected 
 King of Germany at the Bamberg Reichstag, August 16, 
 1169. His second son, Frederick, got Suabia and the lauds 
 of the elder Welf, who, being an uncle to Henry the Lion by 
 his brother, and also uncle to Frederick b}^ his sister, had 
 left his estate to Barbarossa, because the latter had given 
 him generous pecuniary assistance at times when his extrav- 
 ammt mode of livino; necessitated such assistance, whilst 
 Henry the Lion had steadily refused to send him moiiej". 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 303 
 
 To his third son, Conrad, Frederick gave the estates of the 
 Duke von Kotlienhurg, who also had made the emperor his 
 heir. His fourth son, Otto, was proclaimed Governor of 
 Burgundy and Arles, Rainald’s death having left that posi- 
 tion vacant. The youngest of his sons, Philip, was also 
 properly endowed ; though it is said that Frederick’s ambi- 
 tion had destined him for clerical honors, in order to have a 
 Hohenstauffen ready for the occupation of the papal throne. 
 
 In this manner seven happy years passed away, at the 
 end of which Italy again demanded the emperor’s presence. 
 
 Pope Paschal had died September 20, 1168, and his adher- 
 ents had elected John of Struma his successor, under the 
 name of Kalixtus III. Frederick hesitated to recognize 
 Kalixtus, being rather inclined to put an end to the ever- 
 lasting quarrels between emperor and pope ; and Alexander 
 felt so sure of Frederick’s ultimate support that he again 
 refused propositions from Emanuel of Greece looking 
 towards joint action. Alexander was also at that time addi- 
 tionally encouraged by the l)ehavior of Henry H. of England, 
 whom the murder of a Becket caused to return to Alexan- 
 der’s support. The cities of Lombardy thus grew so 
 emboldened that they established a confederation directed 
 specially against Emperor Frederick’s rule ; but internal 
 dissension and jealousy rendered them powerless to effect- 
 any definite object. The emperoy, meanwhile, sent the Arch- 
 bishop Christian, of Mayence, to try whether he could not 
 settle the Lombardian difficulties peaceably. Genoa re- 
 ceived him with friendly greeting, but the archbishop 
 became soon convinced that the other cities were hopelessly 
 arrayed against each other, and against the enforcement of 
 any supreme law and government over them all. He also 
 noticed with grave apprehension the intrigues of the Greek 
 emperor to gain a foot-hold in northern Italy, and, as soon 
 as Emanuel had virtually got the city of Ankona to declare 
 for him, Christian resolved to put an end to this encroach- 
 ment upon his sovereign’s rights by the force of arms. 
 
304 
 
 The Western. 
 
 Nor was he much averse to change his priestly robes of a 
 peace-maker for the armored suit of a soldier, he being in- 
 deed equally renowned for scholarship and knightly achieve- 
 ments. He was a1)le to preach in six different languages — 
 German, French, Flemish, Lombardian, Latin, and Greek — 
 and, as for his soldier-like qualities, he is said to have 
 killed with his own hand nine men in battle, and with the 
 priests and women of his army to have taken two castles by 
 storm. Indeed, the girls and horses of his body-guard cost 
 him more than the emperor paid for his whole retinue. It 
 happily chanced that Venice had also a grudge against the 
 Greek emperor, Emanuel, and was glad to seize an oppor- 
 tunity to gratify it; and thus, while Christian besieged 
 Ankona from the land side, the Venetian fleet blockaded the 
 sea-port, April, 1174. Under these circumstances Ankona 
 was soon reduced to the utmost destitution. Its offer to 
 surrender, however, was refused by Christian, who insisted 
 on harsher conditions than the citizens could make up their 
 minds to concede. Luckily, success came to them at the 
 time of their greatest distress, and much against his will 
 the archbishop was forced to raise the siege and retire. It 
 was about this time, in the fall of 1174, that Frederick for 
 the fifth time crossed the Alps to restore order in his Italian 
 I possessions, but this time with the gravest forebodings. 
 For the prince who owed him most, whom he had raised tn 
 the highest position in his empire, and admitted to personal 
 friendship — the Weltish Henry, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria 
 — had refused him assistance of troops, pleading necessities 
 \ of his own on the northern boundaries of his possessions, 
 
 I but probably acting, also, under the influence and advice of 
 V his Italian connections and of the pope. 
 
 Barbarossa called Henry to a private interview, and hum- 
 bled himself so far as to implore on his knees for the needed 
 assistance, entreating Henry to recall to mind his great 
 friendship and generosity. But Henry remained obstinate. 
 Enraged at Henry’s behavior, Barbarossa’ s wife, who was- 
 
Frederick Barbarossa . 
 
 305 
 
 ' present at the interview, drew her husband away. “ Dear 
 lord,” cried she, “ arise ! God will yet grant you His aid, 
 when you shall be in a position to remember this day 
 ' and this day’s humiliation.” Her prophecy was fulfilled. 
 Disheartened, Frederick entered Lombardy; yet he had 
 nearly won the decisive, final' battle of that campaign — the 
 famous battle of Legnano, 1176 — when the heroism of the 
 I “ Troop of Death” turned the victory in favor of the Lom- 
 bardian army. Frederick’s army was totally defeated ; he 
 himself fled for life, and Avas for some days considered lost 
 and dead. On no occasion of his life did the grand charac- 
 ter of Frederick shine forth more nobly than after this ter- 
 rible defeat. Frankly acknowledging himself beaten, he 
 sent a message to Pope Alexander, Avho had so materially 
 assisted the Lombardians, asking for peace. Alexander 
 desired peace quite as much as Frederick, and, pleased Avith 
 the full submission, appointed an intervieAV at Venice. 
 Here, July, 1177, the tAvo great men met at the door of 
 the St. Mark Cathedral, Avhere Frederick thrcAv himself at 
 the feet of the pope, Avho, Avith tears in his eyes, lifted him 
 up, while the German troops struck up one of the grand 
 chorals of the church. 
 
 Peace Avas made between all parties ; Alexander HI. Avas 
 recognized as the legitimate pope ; his opponent, Kalixtus, 
 was induced to resign ; the cities of Lombardy had most of 
 their complaints removed, and the emperor saAV nearly all 
 his clerical appointments confirmed by the pope, Avhom he 
 had now made his friend. 
 
 ' Thus secured again in his Italian possessions, Frederick, 
 January, 1178, hastened home to punish Henry for his 
 I ungenerous behavior and disloyal desertion in the hour of 
 jneed. Having cited him before a council, at Avhich Henry 
 refused to appear, Frederick, in 1180, excommunicated him 
 from his possessions, and divided them in smaller parcels 
 among his more reliable friends. Henry resisted Avith all 
 
306 
 
 The Western. 
 
 his might, hut in vain ; and, reduced to desperation, threw 
 himself at last before the outraged friend’s feet, at the 
 council of Aachen, and sued for mercy. Frederick wept 
 at the spectacle of his humbled friend and forgave him, but 
 advised him, November, 1181, to retire a while to England 
 and stay with his father-in-law, Henry II. Of his posses- 
 sions he restored to him Brunswick and Lueneburg. It 
 was during that stay of his in England that Matilda bore 
 Henry, in 1183, the son who became the founder of the 
 line of English kings of the House of Brunswick. 
 
 B}" thus dividing the possessions of Henry, Frederick 
 put a final end to tiie rule of the powerful dukedoms in 
 Germany, and inaugurated the safer basis of numerous 
 smaller principalities. About the same time the other 
 chief antagonist of the emperor, Alexander HI., died, 
 August 30, 1181. 
 
 Humbold of Ostia, a man of ordinary ability ,but far inferior 
 to Alexander, who must rank among the great popes, at the 
 side of Gregory and Innocence H., was elected pope, under 
 the name of Lucius HI. The Homans, however, soon got 
 into trouble with him and drove him out of the city. The 
 Archbishop Christian, of Mayence, who had remained in 
 Italy to protect the emperor’s rights, endeavored to come to 
 Lucius’ assistance ; but on his way to Home he was taken 
 prisoner, and when, after being released, he had gathered a 
 new army, a malarial fever seized him near Home, from the 
 effect of which he died, August, 1183. 
 
 The six years’ truce, to which the cities of Lombardy 
 had pledged themselves at the peace-making between Alex- 
 ander and Frederick, at Venice, having now expired, much 
 discussion arose, both in Lombardy and Germany, as to the 
 advisability of continuing peace or entering again upon a 
 state of constant dissension and warfare. Happily the 
 })eace party predominated on both sides of the Alps, and 
 on June 23, 1183, the peace of Constance was con- 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 307 
 
 eluded, by which a permanent satisfactory arrangement 
 of the relations between Germany and Italy seemed to be 
 effected. 
 
 This gratifying state of universal peace within his empire 
 Frederick determined to celebrate by the grandest festival 
 Germany had ever witnessed. It was set for May 20, 1184, 
 at the city of Mayence. Princes and nobles, prelates and 
 priests, and an immense concourse of people assembled from 
 all parts of Germany, from France, Italy, England, Spain, 
 and Hungary. Of knights alone, over 40,000 were present ; 
 the numbers of the people were simply countless. A new, 
 temporary city arose outside of Mayence, for the accom- 
 modation of this immense populace. The Rhine Avas cov- 
 ered with boats bearing provisions, and all the profusion 
 apparent at the festival did not detract from its elegance. 
 The emperor’s two sons. King Henry VI. and Duke Fred- 
 erick of Suabia, Avere made knights, after having duly per- 
 formed all the ceremonies prescribed for such occasions ; 
 and many another ambitious youth of less high rank dated 
 his knighthood from the festival of Mayence, the memory 
 whereof, indeed, AA^as handed doAvn from generation to 
 generation. Minnesingers were, of course, not lacking. 
 Amongst them may be recognized Henry von Yeldegge, 
 Avho takes note of all he sees, in order to commem- 
 orate the splendors of his times in his Aeneis; and here, 
 before this tent Avhere Barharossa himself and his son 
 Henry — both as skillful judges of minstrelsy as of tourna- 
 ment-battles — are idly standing, chatting Avith friends, a 
 younger minstrel is just about to strike his note. And this 
 is Avhat he sings : 
 
 THE bachelor’s SONG, BY SIR VON KUENZINGER. 
 
 Alas me ! why mourn they so 
 
 Who have tasted love’s caressing? 
 
 I stay glad, and yet I know 
 
 I ne’er won that joy and blessing 
 
308 
 
 The Western. 
 
 "Which after bliss love leaves a yearning sorrow, 
 
 When time comes to depart. 
 
 Now, I sleep quiet till the morrow, 
 
 And no one says: “God bless thee, dear sweetheart.” 
 
 Women serve I unremittent; 
 
 Woe me, should I long for meed! 
 
 She would but refuse me flippant; 
 
 Then her grace I’d lose indeed. 
 
 Her friendship rather will I keep and guard me. 
 
 Than by love win her hate. 
 
 ’T would miserably age and ne’er reward me ; 
 
 To serve her true for nothing be my fate! 
 
 Helps it me to engage love’s war. 
 
 Torturing all my life out merely ? 
 
 Little notice from afar 
 Pays she whom I love so dearly. 
 
 Would she but love me with the love I show her. 
 
 Happy were I, and freed. 
 
 My service seems but little to her ; 
 
 Well, I must put good will in for the deed. 
 
 Scarcely had he finished when another Minnesinger 
 stepped forward, and with still more audacious rhythm as 
 well as subject-matter chanted the following : 
 
 THE lover’s song, BY CHRISTIAN VON HAMLE. 
 
 With body enjoying 
 By white arms clasped cosy, 
 
 And pressed to the heart close, how glorious and good! 
 
 With woman love toying. 
 
 Her cheeks glowing rosy. 
 
 Her lips with love laughing, how cheers this the mood ! 
 
 Then is one body where hearts still are twain — 
 
 Speech alone showing them woman and man. 
 
 Then breaks to pieces dull care, grown still crisper ; 
 
 Neither gives love then for long time permission — one single word with 
 mouth to whisper. 
 
 Ah, but one kisses the sweetest mouth, then. 
 
 Ever by woman in love given to man ! 
 
 To love thus with passion 
 A woman makes many 
 
 A heart sometimes sad, and at other times glad. 
 
Frederick Barharossa . 
 
 309 
 
 But who holds possession 
 Unwatched, without pain, he 
 The sweetest of joys will discover outspread. 
 
 Where four fond arms are close flown into one. 
 
 Sweeter joy never the sun shone upon. 
 
 Who finds such cheer with a sweet loving woman, 
 
 Never the world can in him arouse rapture apter to kill care’s bane- 
 ful summon ; 
 
 There two hearts press to each other so close, 
 
 To slip between them no leaf so thin grows. 
 
 Where four fond eyes, meeting. 
 
 Love seeing each other, 
 
 Two hearts in like manner must love to unite. 
 
 Though stealthy their greeting, 
 
 And trying it to smother. 
 
 All things, sad and glad, they must share in love’s light. 
 
 Then burns their love e’en with love like a glow. 
 
 And greater wonder still love hastes to show! 
 
 Causisg their mouths to forget self in other. 
 
 Love thus, in many a way and sweet manner, sorrow and sadness 
 swiftly does smother. 
 
 Aye, love has loving itself so o’ercome, 
 
 Blessed the lovers who dwell in its home ! 
 
 / Having now again established himself supreme ruler, and 
 /secured the foundation of lasting peace at home, Barba- 
 rossa once more, for the sixth and last time, in the fall of 
 1184, bent his way toward Italy. He was everywhere 
 received in triumph. His son Henry was crowned King of 
 Lombardy, with the famous iron crown ; and at the mar- 
 riage of Henry, in 1186, with Constance, the last heiress of 
 Norman descent of the Kingdom of Naples and the Sicilies, 
 so strangely won by the great Norman seafarers in the 
 eleventh century — a conquest which music has forever com- 
 ^ memorated with the names of Tancred and Robert — the 
 \ formerly rebellious city of Milan sued for the honor of hav- 
 ling the marriage festivities celebrated within its walls. 
 Strange working of history ! From this very marriage in 
 jMilan, which seemed to open new glory to the Hohenstauf- 
 4en family, arose their speedy ruin ; it was in trying to gain 
 
310 
 
 The Western. 
 
 the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, which by this marriage 
 descended to the Hohenstaiilfen, that young Conradin, the 
 last of the race, met his tragic death. But even Frederick 
 was already made to feel the curse that followed this mar- 
 adage. It might suit him well enough to have the papal 
 states hedged in from both North and South — Lombardy 
 and Naples — by Hohenstauflen rule, hut the popes were 
 furious at it. Lucius did his best to prevent the marriage, 
 and when he died, in November, 1185, his successor. Urban, 
 would undoubtedly have succeeded in picking a quarrel 
 with the emperor had not suddenly come the news of Sala- 
 din’s conquest of Jerusalem. 
 
 Then Frederick, having returned to Germany in the fall of 
 1186, began at once to prepare for that second and last cru- 
 sade of his life, which has thrown a most fitting final glory 
 over his name. In splendor it certainlj" outshone all the 
 other crusades. There were the Hospital Knights, with 
 their black cloaks, wearing a white cross ; there were the 
 Knights Templar, with a red cross on their white cloaks ; 
 and knights of numerous other orders, in incredible num- 
 bers, and assembled for one of the strangest enterprises 
 that ever moved man’s breast. Nearly _2007000 men 
 gathered under the greatest princes of Eiu*o]^>Oy tlae noble 
 Emperor of Germany at their head. Him were to join, b}^ 
 the sea-route, the astute Philip of France and Richard Cceur 
 de Lion — most romantic of all heroes of romance, his strong- 
 knit frame, light hair, and blue eyes almost a cop}^ of Fred- 
 erick’s person, as Barbdrossa had been in his youth and 
 manhood, and before age had whitened his hair and beard — 
 with his gay troubadour friends from France, Gauceloii 
 Faidit, Pierre Vidal ; aye, and, following in secret, his lady- 
 love, La Dame de Fay el, the unhappy Chatalain de Coucy, 
 all unconscious of the watchful jealousy of the lady’s lord, 
 little dreaming that the heart which beats for the lady so 
 tenderly will become her’ veritable food and cause of death 
 
Frederick Barharossa, 
 
 311 
 
 — for my Lord de Tayel has heard how the Compte de 
 Rosillon punished his wife for loving the fair singer Guil- 
 laume de Cabestaino:, Richard’s most favorite siiii^er. But 
 the world-renowned Blondel was not with him, having 
 stayed at home Avith Richard’s brother, Geoffrey Plantage- 
 net, the father of unhappy little Arthur of Brittany. 
 
 Fit companions of these troubadours from France Avere the 
 Minnesingers of Frederick’s court — nobles and princes all of 
 them, but all artist-like in the labor of constructing their 
 verses and their music. One of the most gifted of them 
 Avas the young Count Otto von Botenlauben, Avho had come 
 to AAun the renoAAUied Princess Beatrix, the pearl of the- 
 Orient, the reports of aaFosc beauty had inflamed this young 
 German, even as the reports of the beauty of the Countess 
 of Tripoli drcAv the gay young troubadour, GeoflVey Rudel , 
 the bosom friend of Geoffrey Plantagenet — as Blondel Avas 
 of Richard — oA^er the sea to Tripoli, in the shadoAV of aaRosc 
 Avails the young man, having been seized by a serious illness 
 on shipboard, died a SAveet death in the arms of the countess, 
 Avho had hastened from her palace to see this strange, 
 unknoAvn lover, brought to her from far over the seas on 
 the Avings of death. 
 
 Botenlauben met a better foidune. He married his 
 princess, his pearl of the Orient, a daughter of the great 
 French house of the Courtenay, and the castle Avhere he 
 and his Avife lived on their return from the East can still be 
 seen. Of his excellent songs the following may serve as 
 fair specimens : 
 
 crusader’s songs, by otto von botenlauben. 
 
 I. 
 
 ^‘Christ’s reward, were’t not the very greatest. 
 
 Never would I leave her here to pine. 
 
 Whom my heart greets earliest and latest. 
 
 Whom I call the kingdom of heav’n of mine, 
 
 Darling, who lives near the River Rhine, 
 
 Lord, let thy grace upon us shine, 
 
 Let me for myself and her yet win that love of thine.” 
 
 Vol. 4, No. 3—21 
 
312 
 
 The Western, 
 
 “ Since his kingdom of heaven named his heart me, 
 
 I have chosen him my God to be ! 
 
 Now can nothing ever from him part me ; 
 
 Oh Lord, be not angry, then, with me ! 
 
 Sure, my thornless eye-delight is he. 
 
 Born to be my joy on earth. Oh, see, 
 
 Should he not return, my joy were dead hopelessly.” 
 
 II. 
 
 I have chosen sweetest woe to win me, 
 
 And I’ll cherish’t o’er all flowers’ shine. 
 
 He’s not wise who deems this folly in me ; 
 
 Envy all times had its hateful shrine. 
 
 Aye, through love I bear this pain and pine. 
 
 It I’ve chosen mine, now be thou mine ! 
 
 Do me as thou choosest, l^dy, for the power is thine. 
 
 I recall to her the pledge at leaving 
 
 She gave me ; and oh ! the pledge was strong. 
 
 When returned I will abjure all grieving, 
 
 Life would sicken stayed I absent long. 
 
 She, for whom my heart so sore doth long. 
 
 Holds me even with her love so strong. 
 
 Like the nightingale that sitteth dead from her sweet song. 
 
 Should I die from the great grief and anguish 
 She works on me, ’twere an awful dread ! 
 
 Let me tell whose fault it is I languish : 
 
 ’Tis the fault of her love-mouth so red. 
 
 If I lose her long, then am I dead ; 
 
 E’en her dear and lustrous eyes grew red 
 
 When I went to say farewell, and for her blessing prayed. 
 
 IH. 
 
 Art most welcome to me, my life’s comfort thou! 
 
 My heart’s delight! Thou dearest man and my own Lord ! 
 
 God I’ll ever praise for this, that He me now 
 From grief has freed ; but also thy great faith record. 
 
 For over me a state of grievous doubt did pass ; 
 
 Thou hadst forgotten me so long, alas ! 
 
 What holp me my beauty ? my high name ? 
 
 Thou hadst forgot me all the same. 
 
 Now my heart with many a joy beats glorious. 
 
 Since with my arms thy body dear I held embraced. 
 
 Dearest one, now tell me, art thou happy thus ? 
 
 Thou told’st me ’bove all women thou deemed’st me most graced. 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 313 
 
 I gave thee on thy faith and on thy virtue, dear, 
 
 My crown of jo}^ my flower, my youth’s bloom-year ! 
 
 Alas, many an evening-yearning’s sigh, 
 
 ' Which kept me wake till day-lit sky ! 
 
 One of the many incidents of this crusade, in its passage 
 through Minor Asia, may here hnd record. 
 
 . In a fight with the Turks, near Philomelinm, amidst the 
 \ countless German knights of one of the troops towered the 
 \ figure of a somewhat slender but powerfully built young 
 knight, seated on a horse of rare vigor and beauty. The 
 beard on his rosy face could not have been many years old, 
 -tis it appeared when the stroke of a Saracen saber, cleaving 
 open the knight’s vizor, exposed his young face ; and the 
 full, blue eyes, now aglow with the passion of life and 
 death, seemed almost too young ever to have looked or 
 drank more than the faint flush of love’s first yearning. 
 •On his shield of azure blue, its edges of gold and red, were 
 painted three narrow black stripes, united by a line of blue 
 set in silver, and running through them. He fought that 
 day so bravely, so recklessly, that the attention of his fel- 
 . low-knights Avas insensibly riveted on his feats, so that when, 
 •j in inconsiderate pursuit of an enemy, he reined in his ex- 
 hausted charger for a leap over a rather Avide ditch, and the 
 panting horse, gathering in, tried to make it, but broke 
 doAvn and fell into the ditch Avith its unhappy horseman, 
 there AA^as a temporary stop of the* battle whilst, amidst 
 great Availing, the troop hastened to rescue the body of 
 their young companion. They found him crushed — dead. 
 
 • A Avriter of Cologne, Godfrey (1162), has chronicled the 
 . event in these Avords : “ Occiditur et ihi Fridericus de Ilusen 
 vir prohus et nohilis, qui egregujc laudis et honestatis prce 
 omnibus illo in tempore nomen acceperut. Qui quum in 
 furcos viriliter desoeviret, unumque ex eis acrius insequeretur ^ 
 equus ejus fossatum transiliens cecidit, ipseque suhsequens 
 ruina expiravit. Super cujus morte tana in castris orta est 
 moestitice^ quod omissa pugna omnes clamorem hellicum 
 mutuaverunt in vocem flentiumF 
 
314 
 
 The Western. 
 
 Frederick voii Hiisen had, indeed, been one of the most 
 popnlar of the knights in the German body ; and his skill 
 in knight-minstrels}^ had attracted even the attention of 
 the great emperor. He was a Siiabian nobleman, living 
 not far from the Rhine, and had been much admired at 
 home for his gifts of song. Parting for the crusade, he 
 had bid painful farcAvell to a lady, from whom something 
 else than want of reciprocated affection seems to have parted 
 him ; very probably higher rank on her part. But, faithful 
 to her, he continued, along the weary march of the crusade, 
 to send her, by every opportunity, new songs of his pas- 
 sion ; and these he sent, not by a regular love-messenger, 
 or singerlein, but by letter in Avriting. A number of these, 
 with other of his songs, have been handed down to us in 
 the Manessean collection. On his dead body one of these 
 songs was found ; and it was probably the ill-humor Avith 
 the dear beloved for her constant refusal to accept his love 
 — for, says he in one of his songs, though she has called 
 me her ^Fneas, she does not Avant to be my Dido — Avhich 
 finds expression in this song, by Avhich he AA^as led to that 
 reckless exposure of his life on the Monday after Ascension 
 Day, in the year 1190. This is a translation of it : 
 
 THE crusader’s DP^PARTURE, BY FREDERICK VON HUSEN. 
 
 My heart and body now ask separation, 
 
 That have together stayed so long as one. 
 
 To fight the heathen is the body’s passion, 
 
 But to the heart a woman dear has grown 
 
 ’Bove all the world. And now I grieve and moan 
 That they no more will walk in joined procession ! 
 
 My eyes, alas, have caused this tribulation. 
 
 And this sad quarrel God can end alone. 
 
 Since I the heart cannot well turn aside now, 
 
 Without still leaving me more sorely grieved, 
 
 I pray to God that He bid thee abide now 
 
 Where thou most surely wilt be well received. 
 
 Alas, but how may’st thou there be relieved ? 
 
 How durst thou venture with such woe to side now ? 
 
 Who is to help thee turn my grief’s great tide now. 
 
 So sure as at thy side thy love achieved ? 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 815 
 
 I thought I should be free from all this trouble 
 When I the cross of God took upon me. 
 
 Indeed, ’twere right, and I’d with peace quick couple. 
 But that my steadfastness forbids it be. 
 
 By rights I should be full of life and free. 
 
 Howe’er my foolish will might blow and bubble. 
 
 Now, see I well, my will cares not a stubble 
 
 How things may chance to me ; ’tis fate’s decree ! 
 
 Let none accuse me that I am unsteady. 
 
 Because whom erst I loved I now bear hate. 
 
 Howe’er I her implored, backward, ne’er read}^ 
 
 She did as if she understood not quite my strait. 
 
 It seems to me her word I can but rate 
 
 Like summer weather here — the changeful lady! 
 
 I were a fool to humor her, and ready 
 
 Believe her still — ’tis, lady-love, too late! 
 
 Here we may also as well mention two other noted Min- 
 nesingers who accompanied the great crusade of Barharossa : 
 Count Frederick von Leiningen and Reimarthe Old. Count 
 Frederick, a noble of great repute — who boasted dating back 
 his descent to a certain Prince Eniich (Emerich, Embric) I, 
 under the Roman emperor Severus, A. D. 210, and whose 
 lineage is still in existence at the present date — was as beau- 
 tiful a singer as he was famous for his deeds of war. There 
 had descended upon him something of the wild spirit of one 
 of his forefathers,^ the dreaded Rhenish Count Emich, who 
 joined the ill-fated crusade of 1096, and, putting himself at 
 the head of a desperate band of some 20,000 ragamuffins, 
 plundered and laid waste Hungary and Bohemia with unpar- 
 alleled rapacity and cruelty. All sorts of wild stories were 
 set afloat concerning his misdeeds. It was said that his 
 band carried along a goose and a goat, filled, it was given 
 out, with the Holy Ghost, under whose direction their out- 
 rages were committed. But their wanton cruelty came to 
 grief at last, at the siege of Misen])urg, where a panic fear 
 seized the whole band. Emich fled with the rest of his 
 band, and soon after meeting death, his spirit was compelled 
 to haunt a mountain near the city of Worms, where, clad in 
 
316 
 
 The Western. 
 
 red-hot iron armor, he and his crew were often seen 
 reviewing and asking the passers-by to pray for their 
 accursed souls. 
 
 But with all his bravery, which won for him the special 
 mention of an old, unknown poet who celebrated Land- 
 grave Louis V. of Thuringen’s deeds in Barbarossa’s cru- 
 sade, Frederick von Leiningen had one of the gentlest 
 hearts, and was a poet of deep feeling and delicate skill. 
 The only one of his songs which has been left to us is one 
 of the sweetest in the whole Manassean collection of Min- 
 nelieder. The simple piety of the two last stanzas of the 
 poem, which are composed in the then universally popular 
 form of a dialogue between a knight and his lady-love, before 
 the knight’s departure for the crusade, is very touching : 
 
 DEPARTURE FOR THE CRUSADE, BY COUNT FREDERICK VON LEININGEN. 
 
 Whose mood covets blithe gladness should 
 Look out upon the budding wood ; 
 
 How May in wondrous glory 
 Of rich, warm color every guest 
 Has clothed in his very best; 
 
 The birds, at man’s grief sorry 
 Prom their high mood full many a tone, 
 
 As sweetly forth it launches, 
 
 You hear ringing adown the vale. 
 
 Pealing o’er all the nightingale, 
 
 On green, leaf-covered branches. 
 
 Yet me it needs to sorrow still ;• 
 
 My heart pays toll on each joy’s thrill, 
 
 While she her grace keeps folded; 
 
 She who my heart bears in her own, 
 
 Ah me, why leaves she me to moan ! 
 
 God so her form has moulded 
 That nor my heart nor all my mind 
 Can think, how’ere they try it. 
 
 How she could be more beautiful. 
 
 This lovely lady of my soul, 
 
 Who all my joy lays quiet. 
 
 O Love, thou sweet, dear counselor. 
 
 Counsel — and blessed be thou e’er — 
 
 My heart’s queen, hear the entreaty! 
 
Fredericl^ Barharossa, 
 
 317 
 
 Counsel her to lend me her aid ; 
 
 Counsel her to turn sad to glad; 
 
 0 lovely Love, show pity ! 
 
 Since thou art lock and thou art bolt 
 Of all my heart and senses, 
 
 Counsel her, for ’tis sorely time ; 
 
 My comfort, weal, with hers must chime ; 
 
 1 burn in thy fire’s trances ! 
 
 And must I thus depart from her. 
 
 Without her kindly, gracious cheer? 
 
 Ah, woe, what grief weighs on me ! 
 
 It fills my life with sore dismay ; 
 
 Mercy, thou blessed woman stay ! 
 
 And look not cold upon me ! 
 
 Soften a little, pray, thy mood. 
 
 And with red mouth say, greeting. 
 
 Nought but four words, and these alone 
 Shall lift my soul to rapture’s throne : 
 
 “Farewell till happier meeting!” 
 
 “Farewell till happier meeting, then ! 
 
 God keep thy life and soul from bane ; 
 
 Thy weal and fame forever! 
 
 If thy return can haste my prayer. 
 
 Suit, and entreaty, God knows, dear. 
 
 My prayers shall resten never. 
 
 Since thy departure is to be, 
 
 Two hearts with thee thou bearest; 
 
 Both mine and thine, both full of woe ; 
 
 . Sadly I mourn, love, thou shouldst go — 
 
 Christ be thy guide, my dearest!” 
 
 Reimar, surnamed the Old, by the Minnesingers, to dis- 
 tinguish him from several other Reimars of that time, was, 
 before his pupil Walther von der Vogelweide began to sing, 
 undoubtedly the foremost knight-minstrel of that age. In 
 early youth, a knight without money, he had entered the 
 service of Leopold VI., second Duke of Austria, the son of 
 Duke Henry YesthusynegodF for whose special benefit 
 Austria had been made a dukedom when Barbarossa restored 
 to Henry the Lion the Dukedom of Bavaria, which Duke 
 Henry Yesthusmegod had inherited from his father. A 
 favorite oath had given rise to this comicaf nickname, and it 
 
318 
 
 The Western. 
 
 would have been a great blessing if every Henry and Fred- 
 erick of the countless principalities of the Germany of those 
 clays had been considerate enough, for the sake of future 
 historians and history-readers, to have thus invented an 
 original oath for a second name and distinctive alias. 
 
 Reimar soon distinguished himself in his art, and be- 
 came the pet poet of Vienna. A simple-minded, noble 
 soul, and true artist in every sense of the word; very 
 properly preferring his art to the stupid breaking of lances, 
 at the risk of his bones, in tourneys, or, still worse, to risk- 
 ing his life in absurd battles for so-called glory. Yet his 
 great attachment to Duke Leopold led him to accompany 
 his lord on that Barbarossa crusade, wherein Leopold dis- 
 tinguished himself greatly at the famous siege of Akkon, 
 but also considerably disgraced himself by his quarrel with 
 the lion-hearted Richard of England, and deeply so when, 
 after his return to Austria, he made Richard a prisoner and 
 delivered him over to Emperor Henry VI., who kept him 
 confined till poor, faithful Blondell sought him up and sang 
 to him the touching song, “Oh, Richard, oh mon roi ! 
 L’universe t’abandonne,” which, on a far later occasion, 
 sounded the death-knell of Louis XVI. The following 
 songs will characterize the skill and poetic feeling of the 
 old singer. The last and most beautiful of them laments 
 the death of his beloved patron, who died by a fall from his 
 horse, whilst preparing to join a new crusade, on the last 
 day of the year 1194. The lament is in accordance with 
 the spirit of the times, aptly put in the mouth of a loving 
 woman mourning the death of her lover. 
 
 CRUSADE SONGS BY REIMAR THE OLD. 
 
 . I. 
 
 The Lady^s Message to her Crusader. 
 
 Dearest messenger, now hear, 
 
 Thou art thus to act! Say this, 
 
 If he’s well and of good cheer. 
 
 That my life still cheerier is. 
 
Frederick Barhavossa. 
 
 319 
 
 Tell him that it is will 
 
 He should never be of anything guilty — that would part us 
 for our ill. 
 
 Asks he my behavior, say 
 That I live in happiness. 
 
 If thou canst, lead from’t awa}^ 
 
 Then I need not speech repress. 
 
 I love him with heart full well, 
 
 And would rather see him than the daylight — but this must 
 thou never tell. 
 
 Ere thou ever tellest him aught, 
 
 How that I love him so dearl}^ 
 
 Eirst look thou, and be now taught, 
 
 All his ways observe thou nearly, 
 
 Whether his love me true did stay ! 
 
 Then, whatever may impart him pleasure — dearest messenger 
 mine, that say. 
 
 Speaks he of coming home to abide, 
 
 Wouldst thou well rewarded be. 
 
 Tell him that speech to avoid 
 AVhich he ere while spoke to me ; 
 
 Then may I him look upon. 
 
 Why will he me always with that worry — which can never- 
 more be done ? 
 
 What he wants, look, that strikes dead. 
 
 And does many a life destroy. 
 
 Pale without a shade of red 
 
 It. fades woman — passion’s toy ; 
 
 Love, men call it ! But, O men. 
 
 Rather should you unlove name and call it — woe him who it 
 first began ! 
 
 That I’ve said so much, much more 
 Than I meant, now me annoys; 
 
 I was never used before 
 
 To such burden as now lies 
 
 In my heart with woe down-weighed. 
 
 Now, list: thou must never, never tell him — what I here to 
 thee have said. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Lady and the Messenger. 
 
 ^‘Tell me. I’ll reward thee neatly, 
 
 Hast thou seen the dear knight? is it true? 
 Does he live, and lives he fitly. 
 
 As they say, and as thou told’st me, too ?” 
 
320 
 
 The Western. 
 
 “ Dame, I saw him, glad with joy, 
 
 And his heart stood, as you ever bid it, high.” 
 
 “Pleasure I forbade him never. 
 
 So but in one thing he keep recluse. 
 
 This I pray to-day and ever ; 
 
 It’s a prayer which he should not refuse.” 
 
 “Dame, now trip not in your speech ! 
 
 He says all is done that should be — each thing, each !’' 
 
 “List, he promised, o’er and o’er it. 
 
 That he’d never sing a song again, 
 
 Unless I should ask him for it !” 
 
 “Dame what time I left, so did he then ; 
 
 And you surely must have heard ” — 
 
 “Alas, if I ask him now. I’ll rue the word. 
 
 “Yet, if I do not implore it. 
 
 Then I lose in him my happiness ; 
 
 And the people’ll curse me for it, 
 
 That from all the world I keep such grace. 
 
 Everywhere care glooms my lot ; 
 
 Alas, now I know not, shall I do’t or not ? 
 
 “ That we women win not ever 
 
 Friend by speech, unless they’re so inclined. 
 
 Grieves me. Court him, I will never. 
 
 Steadfast women hurt unsteadfast mind. 
 
 Were I, as I e’en not seem, * 
 
 Unsteadfast, then, if he left me, I’d leave him.” 
 
 - III. 
 
 Song of the Crusader. 
 
 The day I put the cross on me 
 I chose my thoughts, discarding some. 
 
 To fit the sign most properly. 
 
 And as true pilgrim might become. 
 
 And then they seemed to me to God all given. 
 
 So that their very feet seemed to His worship riven. 
 
 But now they claim their own will, and alone go as before again. 
 
 And now this grief’s not mine alone, but also grieves sore other men. 
 
 In all things else I should lack naught. 
 
 If but my thoughts would keep more staid ; 
 
 That God whom here to serve I ought. 
 
 They do not so to praise lend aid ' 
 
 As I require, and as ’t would be my glory. 
 
 They still keep straying back to some old story. 
 
 And think that I’m to pleasure given still, as I was hitherto — 
 
 Oh Mother, Maid, check thou their bent, since I cannot, whate’er I do. 
 
Frederick Barharossa. 
 
 321 
 
 Not that these thoughts I’ll ever quite 
 Forbid t’xplore their own thought-land ! 
 
 I allow them all things that are right, 
 
 But ask them, on the other hand. 
 
 That, after both our friends they’ve greeting given. 
 
 They should return and help atone my sins to heaven — 
 
 Then be them everything forgiven that they’ve done to me of ill ; 
 
 But I fear their deceitfulness, and that they’ll try to cheat me still. 
 
 Blessed is pleasure ! Blessed he 
 
 Who may a part of ’t win him aye ! 
 
 Albeit I now from it am free. 
 
 Yet have I seen everywhile the day, 
 
 When e’en the whole night long it would me flurry ; 
 
 But now 1 have forgotten that with other worrj^! 
 
 The steps are broken on the ladder, that me then to pleasure led ; 
 
 And no one can lead back me thence, unless my will and I lend aid ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Homeward from the Crusade. 
 
 Methinks love’s going to come to me ; 
 
 My heart soars up in play and glee, 
 
 My mood swings up to cheerful joys. 
 
 Like to the falcon, as he flies. 
 
 And like the e^le turning ! 
 
 The friends that I left mourning. 
 
 Oh, blessed I, if I then find 
 As I left them, in body and mind! 
 
 Good ever 3 ^thing about her is ! 
 
 Oh God, do Thou but grant me this. 
 
 That I may soon be with her ; 
 
 Lead me, then, safely thither ! 
 
 And, if of care she has any kind. 
 
 Grant I maj’ it scatter — e’en as she must clear my mind I 
 Then may we quaff true pleasure ! 
 
 Then blessed I the whole night long — [could one wish dearer treasure ? 
 
 V. 
 
 On the Death of Duke Leopold VI. 
 
 They say that summer is here now, 
 
 That pleasures new awaken. 
 
 And that I ought joy to my heart restore. 
 
 But counsel me and tell me. How? 
 
 Since death from me hath taken — 
 
 Oh God ! I cannot get o’er it evermore ! 
 
322 
 
 The Western. 
 
 What need I to go in search of mirth ? 
 
 Since all my mirth’s sole lord, Leopold, lieth in the earth! 
 
 Whom I saw mourning ne’er a day. 
 
 And lo, the world in him has lost 
 
 As never in any man so great — so sad a loss it had for aye. 
 
 Poor woman I! I felt so well 
 When’ere I thought of him. 
 
 And how that all m}’ weal was in him wrapt ! 
 
 But now, that I no longer shall 
 
 Have him, a misery grim 
 
 Over what life I yet may live has swept. 
 
 He, my rapture’s mirror, he is gone I 
 
 Whom I for summer, eye-delight had chosen me and won, 
 
 Him I must learn to do without ! 
 
 When I was told that he was dead. 
 
 Straightway the blood rushed from my heart, and all my senses put 
 to rout. 
 
 From cheerfulness bid me abstain; 
 
 My dear lord’s death, ah, me I 
 Tells me to bid it farewell evermore; 
 
 And since him I can ne’er regain 
 My grief kills me. Oh, see ! 
 
 How all my mourning heart is still so sore ! 
 
 She who mourns him always, it is I! 
 
 Oh, that the ever blessed man could live and I could die ! 
 
 But he is gone ; what do I here ? 
 
 Be merciful to him, oh God ! 
 
 More virtuous guest drew ne’er yet to Thy host of heaven near ! 
 
 The unhappy end of this third crusade is known to all. 
 Barbarossa fortunately did not live to witness its disastrous 
 conclusion. On the march, false news was brought him 
 that his son (Henry YI.) was dead. Tears trickled down 
 his now snow-white beard, but as soon as he could compose 
 himself he cried out, “My son is dead, but Christ lives! 
 Forward I” After most vexations marches over the terri- 
 tories of the Greek Empire, deceived at every step by the 
 cunning treachery of the Emperor Commenius, Frederick, 
 at the head of what little remained of his army, was never- 
 theless advancing in triumph, after having stormed and 
 taken the capital of the Sultan of Credi, when he was 
 
Letter on France. 
 
 323 
 
 unfortunately drowned in attempting to cross a river. But 
 in the heart of the German people his memory continued to 
 linger for ages, and imagination transported him to the 
 KA^ffhaeuser c^e, Avhere, sitting on a stone bench, and 
 leaning his arms on a stone table, he still awaits the coming 
 glory of a happy, reunited Germany, for it is a grave error 
 to suppose that the Hohenzollerii Empire has as yet real- 
 ized that ideal. It not only still lacks integral parts of 
 Germany proper, but, above all, individual political freedom 
 and that full religious freedom without which the conflict 
 between the German Empire and the Boman Catholic 
 (j^hurch can never And thorough settlement, and Avhich has 
 io happily protected our own republic from a like disas- 
 trous conflict. 
 
 A. E. Kroeger. 
 
 * LETTER ON FRANCE. 
 
 VICTOR HUGO AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES IN VERSE AND ART. 
 
 Victor Hugo stands a head and shoulders above all his 
 contemporaries in mental height except George Sand, 
 whose fervid, flowing eloquence, dramatic vividness of char- 
 acterization, and S3nnpathy Avith all oppressed classes, lifted 
 her to an equal level as a literary artist. Alfred Musset 
 perhaps approached more nearly than the others, by his 
 sensibility and originality, which rendered his poems, though 
 full of a certain romantic melancholy, more akin to nature 
 than any utterance Avhich France had heard from her poets 
 for centuries. 
 
 But the rest, Gautier, Baudelaire, Leconte de Lisle, M. 
 Lafayette, are all cold-blooded, scientific rather than crea- 
 tive, given to analysis, polish, carving, Avith exquisite deli- 
 cacy, it is true, but the tools are guided by a hand that feels 
 
324 
 
 The Western. 
 
 no thrill of any poetic fire leaping in its veins. They 
 believe nothing, they revere nothing, they love nothing, 
 except, perhaps, art, with the cool selection of a cultured 
 taste ; their hopes are not ardent, except when, as in M. 
 Lafayette, a social purpose and a political aim seem to 
 arouse some masculine vigor of tone. 
 
 They bring before you always the artist, his studio with 
 its well-arranged Oriental stuffs and silken folds hanging in 
 studied ease, its veiled lights and softened shadows, its 
 tools ; and one never breathes freely, or hears the ringing 
 of spontaneous melody, or catches a glimpse of wild grace 
 or merriment, as in the old Greek world which they affect 
 to adore. Even M. Coppees’ idyls are those of closed gar- 
 dens and well laid-out grounds. Theophile Gautier well 
 entitled his poems “ Emaux et Camees,” for in every line 
 is the touch of the chisel and polishing tools ; and Catulle 
 Mendes, in his “ Midnight Sun,” and Leconte de Lisle, in 
 his poems of “India,” too artfully dispose contrasts and 
 effects to transport us with the cold, weird snow-light of the 
 one, or the glow and odor of the other. As for Charles 
 Baudelaire, he dissects, analyzes, investigates, every human 
 emotion, good or evil, woe or joy. 
 
 We see the same spirit in their art : in Corot’s soft, shad- 
 owy, idyllic landscapes, with their subtle studies of the 
 relations of color ; in the elaborate technique of Andre and 
 Meissonier ; in the numberless pictures of court scenes and 
 classic subjects, where the gorgeous costumes, exquisite 
 textures, costly jewels, sparkling wines, shining bronzes, 
 wonderful effects of light and shade, stand iu bold and sen- 
 sational contrast with some grim and ghastly theme of death 
 or old age, as in the “Death of Nero,” “ Son Eminence 
 Grise,” “ The Christian Martyr,” etc. Here is again the 
 same careful study, exquisite workmanship, dramatic con- 
 trast, but no fire, force, vitality ! It is but art ; not life. 
 
 Both in artist and verse- writer (for we can scarcely use 
 the old, divine name of poet, which Homer, Shakespeare, 
 
Letter on France. 
 
 325 
 
 and Dante bore, for sueh as these) we find the same tone 
 of eastern scenes and effects. In Dore’s painting, “ Find- 
 ing the True Cross,” the whole scene glows with Oriental 
 sunshine and color, and upon the jeweled miters and gold- 
 wrought garments, the swinging of censers, the long ranks 
 of the armed crusaders, beats a noonday light and splen- 
 dor. All the rich and fantastic coloring of Diaz is Oriental ; 
 and on the walls of the salon you see Arab sportsmen fly- 
 ing their hawks, the rest by the palm trees of the desert, 
 the slave-market', the bazaar of the East. In Leconte de 
 Lisle’s poems you hear, as a recent critic beautifully says, 
 the sj'stemical stepping of the Hindoo bearers, and perceive 
 the strange, rich odors of tropical forests. The names of 
 his verses, the “Sleep of the Condor,” “The South,” 
 “ The Jungles,” “ The Fountain of Lianas,” are redolent 
 with such glow and still rest, of such springing freshness 
 amid parching heats, such thick and shadowy retreats from 
 hot noon, as the lands of the East and South only show. 
 
 All this is artistic, but it has no vital strength. The 
 school of art and literature in France which possesses 
 stamina and endurance is the sympathetic school, which 
 boasts the name of Millet, with his grand epics of labor dis- 
 played in his pictures of the working and agricultural life 
 of France ; of Breton and Frere, whose homely scenes have 
 a tenderness and power which the cooler analyst of emo- 
 tion never reaches ; of Kosa Bonheur and Jacques, who 
 enter into the lowly lives of animals, and portray their days 
 with the power of life. In literature. Sully Prudhomme 
 shows a tenderness and insight that promises much ; the 
 author of “The Attic Philosopher” describes with loving 
 minuteness the innocent pleasures and cares of a quiet life ; 
 and George Sand has done for the peasant in words whjit 
 Millet’s canvas has accomplished in art. 
 
 It is here, in earnestness, sympathy, feeling, that Victor 
 Hugo shows his true power. He writes for the people, lie 
 feels with them, he loves them ; therefore his writings are 
 
326 
 
 The Western, 
 
 full of aspirations and hope; and he says: “ Let us look 
 always toward the dawn, the blossoming, the birth ; that 
 which falls encourages that which arises.” (“93.”) And 
 again, in the same work : “ Each of those degrees — father, 
 mother, city, country, humanity — is one of the rungs of 
 the ladder which leads to God.” He thrills with the power 
 and life of the new age, but is not faithless to the old herit- 
 age ; while he speaks of the quickening power of a great 
 city which civilizes, he does not forget the rest of the coun- 
 try which is the universal mother ; and he holds humanity 
 as the great ancestor of all. 
 
 “ Les Miserables,” unreal, sensational, dramatic as it 
 may appear to the more quiet reader of English blood, is 
 filed with an earnest pity for all classes that sulfer, with a 
 genuine endeavor to comprehend and ameliorate their situ- 
 ation ; nor is the sympathy that embraces Javert, the police- 
 man, inflexible, severe, and Jean Valjean, the escajoed con- 
 vict, narrow or one-sided. 
 
 Victor Hugo’s own life, his enjoyment of the household, 
 his tender love for his sons, both of whom he has followed 
 to the grave, his gentleness and devotion to his two delicate 
 grandchildren, have taught him the great lessons of love 
 with deep reality. We see the little footsteps of “ le petit 
 Georges” and his sister, Jeanne, in many a work of this 
 threat author. What is more touchino^ and artless than the 
 little ones in “93” who hear the boominof of the i^reat 
 cannon and lisp a soft mimicry of the sound? In “ Les 
 Miserables,” even the gamin — the urchin of street-corners 
 and alleys — is painted with the vividness and accuracy of 
 one who has listened not unlovingly to his audacious 
 repartees and acute words. 
 
 But in “ Cosette,” the little, forsaken, motherless child, 
 trembling in the dark of the forest, hearing strange rustlings 
 and movements in every swinging bough or breaking twig, 
 peopling the shadows with undefined and vague figures — 
 there is the touch of one who has made the child’s world, 
 
The Soul ’5 Complaint of the Body, 
 
 327 
 
 the chikrs soul his own. Nor should we envy the reader 
 who could reach, without delio’ht, the climax where the 
 poor little creature suddenly hiids herself the rich pos- 
 sessor of a wonderful and beautiful doll. In such passages 
 as these we forget the writer to love the man, who, with 
 tears scarcely dried for his beloved sons, is at once father 
 and mother to the little children left in his care, and who 
 spends hours in amusing them with recitation and storv, 
 nor ever wearies of the little troubles and petty amusements 
 of their infancy. 
 
 E. F. Morley. 
 
 THE SOUL’S COMPLAINT OF THE BODY, 
 
 From the Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 BY MYRON B. BENTON. 
 
 Much it behooveth 
 Mortals, each one, 
 
 To ponder whence moveth 
 The Soul ever on. 
 
 Death, cdtning, smiteth 
 Midst terror and dole ; 
 
 His stroke disuniteth 
 Body and Soul. 
 
 Long the Soul waiteth 
 Ere it shall go 
 
 Where the Lord’s hand mateth 
 With weal or with woe ; 
 
 As its pilgrimage, slowly 
 It wandered from birth — 
 
 Painful and lowly, 
 
 Toiling on Earth. 
 
 As e’en night swift fleeteth ; 
 Then, wailing aloud, 
 
 The Ghost coming meeteth 
 Its body in shroud. 
 
 Vol. 4. No. 3-22 
 
328 
 
 The Western, 
 
 There winters three hundred 
 Shall o’er it be hurled — 
 
 If the Lord hath not thundered 
 The End of the World ! 
 
 So weary, then speaketh 
 The wan, chilly Ghost ! 
 
 Cold utterance wreaketh 
 Upon the low dust; 
 
 O dry Dust, dreary one. 
 
 For me little strife 
 Or care hadst thou, weary one, 
 All thy long life ! 
 
 Now in earth darkly 
 
 Thou makest thy home — 
 Lying so starkly — 
 
 Rotting in loam ! 
 
 Little was heeding 
 Thy life upon Earth 
 Of thy Soul ever speeding 
 Its journey swift forth. 
 
 EQUALITY OF THE SCHOOL SYSTEM. 
 
 I propose in this paper to introduce, by wa}" of general 
 discussion, a subject which has attracted my notice, and 
 upon which I have bestowed some reflection, as one who for 
 a long time was connected, in different capacities, with our 
 school system, and who still feels a deep interest in its vari- 
 ous workings, and especially in its direct and remote tend- 
 encies, not only upon the people, but also upon the social 
 and political institutions of the country. I, however, intend 
 this as nothing more than an introduction of the subject, 
 which others can follow up with fuller details and with 
 a more elaborate discussion, if they shall deem the subject 
 of sufficient importance. 
 
 In the observations which I am about to make I shall 
 have reference to the school system of the United States, 
 or, perhaps I should rather say, to the school systems of 
 
An Imjoroved English Alphabet, 
 
 341 
 
 'of spelling reform — East, West, North, South — are laboring 
 to bring out an alphabet beautiful and simple in form, and 
 adapted to our eveiy-day wants in writing and printing. 
 
 The old proverb, “ Words are the coin of fools, but the 
 counters of wise men,” needs to be ground deeply into the 
 public consciousness. There are so many persons who really 
 deify onr present uncouth and barbarous orthography that 
 it is necessary to convince them that the forms of our words 
 are not sacred things. Most of these forms are crystallized 
 1)lunders. But in this age, when improvement and progress 
 is the order of the day ; when improved implements and 
 machinery increase production an hundredfold ; when steam- 
 ships, steam-cars, and telegraphs bring the ends of the earth 
 into close proximity, it becomes a prime necessity that the 
 forms of written lano:uao:e should be reduced to the minimum 
 degree of simplicity. 
 
 According to our standard dictionaries, there are about 
 forty-four distinct elementary sounds, which must be care- 
 fully discriminated in order to pronounce English with 
 accuracy and elegance. This includes diphthongs. To rep- 
 resent these forty-four sounds we have only twenty-three 
 letters, k, q, and x being duplicates. For want of a suffi- 
 cient number of signs, we have resorted to the use of 
 digraphs and trigraphs, which have become so numerous 
 and indefinite as to necessitate the learning of each word 
 separately — an almost endless task. To illustrate : The 
 twenty voAvels and diphthongs, Avhich one must discriminate 
 in pronouncing words according to the best authorities, are 
 represented by forty-two letters and combinations of letters, 
 without taking into consideration the number of times that 
 e, i, u, and y are used as consonants. These forty-two 
 combinations represent the vowels in 133 different ways. 
 
 Now, the great task imposed upon children in learning the 
 Avritten language is the almost insuperable difficulty of 
 learning when a certain combination or letter has a given 
 -sound. For instance, the sound of long e is represented in 
 
342 
 
 The Western, 
 
 twelve different Avays, viz. : Be, pique, poeaii, foetus, read, 
 bee, seize, people, key, grief, quay, Ypres. If the same- 
 combination did not note other sounds, the difficulty Avould 
 be lessened ; but e notes five sounds, i notes eleven sounds, 
 ai notes two sounds, oe notes two sounds, ea notes seven 
 sounds ; ee notes three sounds ; ei notes six sounds ; eo- 
 notes seven sounds, ey notes three sounds, ie notes six 
 sounds, nay notes one sound, and y notes five sounds. Now, 
 a child, in order to learn to read, must reall}^ learn fifty-two 
 arbitrary signs for the same sound. Hence the real gain in 
 having a single sign for each elementary sound, and for each 
 sign to note but one sound, Avould be in this case 5100 per 
 cent. In some other cases it Avould not be so lai-ge, but on 
 the A\diole this qiLinquaginta-]}Vv(i\xt\o\\ ( fiftAdbldness) of signs 
 is the real cause of difficulty, and is the impediment to be 
 overcome. Owing to this great confusion in the use of 
 signs, a vast amount of time and money is annuall}" squan- 
 dered. It is estimated that two years, at least, of eveiy 
 child’s life is consumed by this waste of learning to read 
 and spell ; and, since the average time spent in school is about 
 three years, two-thirds of the precious time of the school 
 life of the child is actually Avasted. The effort to learn to 
 pronounce and spell our English Avords is so great that the 
 form of language must be made prominent, to the neglect 
 of the sense of Avords and elegance in diction. Grammar, 
 Avhich in other languages teaches orthography, etymology, 
 syntax, and prosody, has become an ineffectual instrumeut 
 of culture, as it no longer teaches pupils to speak and AAu-ite 
 correct English. One able Avriter estimates that 15,000,000 
 of school years are Avasted in each generation, in the United 
 States alone, through our conglomerate orthography, and 
 another that $15,000,000 are for the same reason annuallv 
 Avasted in primary instruction. If a phonetic method* of 
 Avriting and printing AA^ere adopted, better results than AA^e 
 noAA^ get in this city could be obtained at an actual annual 
 saving of $200,000. The youth of this city might thus, at