Barbarossa; An Historical Novel of the XII Century.. Conrad von Bolanden
upon the Imperialist forces; and such was the vindictiveness displayed; that several abortive attempts were made to assassinate the German Emperor, who was unable to check or punish these acts of hostility. His army was composed almost entirely of Italians, and although the rebellious city of Cremona was taken and burned, his reprisals were without result.
This continual strife and its attendant misfortunes, equally disastrous for both factions, reduced Lombardy almost to a desert. The devastated fields produced no more crops, and the ground being unable to sustain even the native population, the foreign troops suffered severely from famine. Barbarossa convoked again his knights and nobles, thanked and rewarded them publicly for their devotion to his cause, and disbanded the Germans, promising to open the campaign with a strong army, early in the following spring.
CHAPTER II.
THE AMBUSCADE
After a winter spent in harassing the enemy and in petty skirmishes with the Emperor's adherents, the Milanese inaugurated the year 1161, in a more serious manner, by the capture of several fortresses, some by assault, others through treachery. Frederic was still unable to make any serious resistance to his enemy's advance; for the German reinforcements had not yet arrived, and his own little army, in order to hasten the fall of Milan, was besieging the towns of Como and Neulodi, so that his operations were limited almost to a strictly defensive policy, whilst, in person, he rode at the head of a small escort, through the province, reassuring his declared allies and conciliating those whose sentiments were as yet doubtful.
It was a beautiful morning. A small troop of armed men, whose appearance was that of banditti, were keeping guard at the foot of a hill, about two days' journey from Milan. The soldiers, wearied by a long march, were stretched upon the ground, and about a dozen horses, with heaving flanks, stood close by, showing clearly that they had shared the fatigue of their riders.
The chief of the band stood a little to their rear, and with his arms crossed on his breast, appeared to be reflecting profoundly. His costly armor and proud bearing was not that of a robber, for his shield was magnificently embossed in silver, the border of his surcoat richly embroidered, and his sword-belt inlaid with precious jewels. By his side stood a man of short stature, apparently quite at his ease. He wore a pointed hat, and on his bronzed face beamed an expression of knavery and deceit, which, with his sparkling eye and a continued sneer around the mouth, gave to his whole physiognomy a most malevolent character. He carried a cross-bow and a quiver full of bolts on his back, and by his side hung a long rapier.
"Nothing!" said the knight, angrily. "Ah! Griffi, if you have deceived me, you shall be flogged."
"Flogged! my lord Pietro! I, Cocco Griffi, the son of the high and mighty Consul Nigri of Milan! I flogged!" said the little man, with marked astonishment.
"Yes, without fail!"
"How, my lord Pietro! your native city boasts of giving liberty to the Italians. Would it not be barbarous to flog a loyal citizen?"
"You have most richly deserved it! At this very moment, the Milanese are destroying one of the strongholds of German tyranny; and I, who would so gladly have shared in the glorious work, have been decoyed here by your specious tale, to await, uselessly, the coming of that accursed Barbarossa, while my countrymen are celebrating their triumph."
"I crave your pardon, my lord! The destruction of a castle, already half in ruins is scarcely a deed worthy of your heroism," replied Griffi, in a half serious, half jocular tone. "Ah! it would be another thing had it been necessary to storm the Castle of Cinola. But as Barbarossa's worthy governor, Bonello, has in a fit of patriotism opened the gates, I could see but little opportunity there for a display of your valor. For the prowess of the brave Milanese will not go further than the draining of some wine-casks and the destruction of some old furniture; they may perhaps burn the castle, but, this done, they will return within their city walls."
Pietro made no reply, but with a glance of contempt upon the speaker, again turned to gaze into the distance.
"On the other hand," continued Griffi, proudly, "you will have, thanks to me, a chance of doing here something truly heroic. I learned that the Emperor, with a feeble escort, was about to proceed towards the North; I managed to insinuate myself among the soldiers, and discovered the road by which he was to travel; and then galloping night and day, came here, to show you how to rid the country of its oppressor, by his death or capture! And yet, as a reward for all this, you threaten to flog me!"
"But if we succeed!" said Pietro, his face flushing with enthusiasm, "if we succeed, I will fill your hat with gold pieces. I will have your name engraved upon tablets of bronze, and your statue erected in every public square in Lombardy."
Cocco scarcely heeded the last words, so intently did he gaze towards the distant horizon. Suddenly he seized the arm of the knight:
"Look there!" he cried, "there, near the forest; see that armor shining in the sun. It is Barbarossa himself, followed by eighteen knights and seventy varlets!"
"Oh! the wretch!" exclaimed the Milanese, with an expression of mingled hatred and anger.
"I beg you, my lord," said Pietro hurriedly, "take off your helmet, and turn your shield, or their reflection will betray our presence," and, as his advice was followed, he at once resumed, -
"Now let us make every arrangement in order that the tyrant may not escape. Remain here with your men, in observation, whilst I ride over to Cinola to get reinforcements."
"Aye! and meanwhile, Barbarossa will get away. Oh! fool that I am! why am I here, without my own brave troopers? One bold stroke, and the yoke of my beloved country would be broken!"
"Fear nothing," said Cocco, "those iron-clad soldiers would need wings, to escape now. Mark yonder little valley with its sloping meadows and its narrow stream! The Germans are making toward it, for the road passes close by, and good pastures are too rare now in Lombardy for them to neglect so favorable a chance for resting their horses. So, while his Imperial Majesty is taking his ease, our troops will come up, and it will be an easy task to seize this red-headed tyrant by the beard."
Griffi whistled and clapped his hands, and, at the sound, an active little horse ran toward him.
"Cocco," said the knight to his companion, "my good friend, Cocco, lose no time-but, stay, let two of my troopers go with you; an accident might happen, and remember that you hold in your hands the liberty of Italy."
"Bah! my lord Pietro," replied the other, "I will give you leave to flog me, if my horse, Molo, does not easily distance your stiff troopers!" and as he spoke he sprang upon the back of the nimble animal, and soon left far behind him the soldiers whom the knight had detailed as his escort.
Pietro concealed himself behind a bush, whence he could observe the enemy's movements. The Germans continued to advance. In front, rode the knights in complete armor, – he could even distinguish Barbarossa's banner with its richly embroidered lion, and it seemed as though he could recognize the lofty stature of the Emperor himself.
As Cocco had foreseen, they entered the valley, in which, midway, stood the ruins of an ancient cloister.
The emotion of the Milanese increased as he watched the little troop. He forbade his men to rise from the ground, lest their bright helmets might reveal their presence, and, gazing earnestly towards the city, his whole person betrayed the feverish restlessness of one who felt as much anxiety for the deliverance of his country as hatred for the tyrant whose iron arm weighed so heavily upon Italy.
CHAPTER III.
THE CHANCELLOR RINALDO
The Imperial escort had halted in the valley, the horses were unsaddled and grazing in the meadows, while the soldiers in groups were resting beneath the shade of the pines and oak-trees.
Three of the knights had chosen the most picturesque spot among the ruins, and from the slight elevation, on which they stood, could discern all the surrounding country, and even the lofty summits of the Alps, which bounded the horizon toward the North. It was to this direction that was turned the anxious gaze of one of the knights, who, with his hands resting on his sword-hilt, stood before the gateway of the ruined church. But little above the middle height, he was powerfully