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Page 21
"It was sent me yesterday across the lake by a Benedictine monk," he
said, when Father Omehr had finished reading and raised his eyes in
wonder and delight.
"And who has written it?"
"A namesake of mine--a Benedictine. It was not seen until after his
death, when the manuscript was discovered in his cell. What is more
remarkable is that the monk was distinguished for nothing but his piety,
and had never made any pretension to learning or accomplishment."
Much to the surprise of Herman, his friend, though deeply moved by that
beautiful effusion of Catholic piety, seemed not to give the entire
attention which it so eminently deserved.
"Listen!" he said, repeating the lines. "What melody! what tenderness!
what love! You certainly must feel its exalted piety?" he added,
appealing to Father Omehr.
"I do, indeed; but you perceive that I am disturbed. In brief, then--for
I could not bring myself to say until now--Anno of Cologne is dead."
Anno, Archbishop of Cologne, was revered throughout Europe in the
eleventh century for his virtue and wisdom. It is said of him that,
when others slept, he rose, filled with a holy zeal, and visited many
churches, carrying with him his pious offerings. In the halls of kings,
says the poet who celebrates his virtues, he sat with the haughtiness of
the lion; in the hut of the peasant, he stood with the humility of a
lamb. So obnoxious was he to the king, that Henry at one time assaulted
him sword in hand; and he was only saved from death by the interposition
of a monk. Alone, he founded five monasteries, including that of
Siegberg, his favorite residence, where he died, and where his tomb was
long pointed out to the traveller. He was said to have emitted a light,
the splendor and beauty of which spread around like the lustre of a
precious stone in a ring of gold.
"O God, the giver of all!" exclaimed Herman, after a pause, "in taking
him to Thyself, do not leave us desolate!"
Father Omehr then described the fearful ulcers which had tormented
Anno's body, and the celestial visions and brilliant apparitions that
delighted his soul and foreshadowed the bliss awaiting him in the life
to come.
"But let us not weep for him whose epitaph is in the mouths of the widow
and the orphan, and whose soul is in the hand of God!" said the pious
chaplain of Hers, grasping the hand of his friend.
"Not for him I weep," was the reply; "nor yet for the bereaved people of
Cologne." The missionary paused, unable to proceed, and then hurriedly
exclaimed, "Who is to be his successor? Who is to appoint him?--Gregory
VII or Henry of Austria!"
"He will not dare!" ejaculated the other, who not until this moment
clearly understood his more keen-sighted friend.
"He who has dared to fill the sees of Li�ge and Milan may not scruple to
dishonor the see of Cologne! But let us pray and hope; for suffer what
we may, we cannot be conquered."
This long interview was here terminated by the bell of the Benedictine,
summoning to dinner. The Baron of Hers was noted for his fine person and
his polished address, and saluted them with even more than his usual
politeness as they entered the dining-room. He was the only one of the
group who seemed at ease; for the two missionaries could not forget the
death of Anno--and Gilbert, from some cause or other, had lost his
sprightliness.
"I fear," said the knight to Father Omehr, "that you have half made a
traitor of Gilbert, for he will no longer let me abuse my friends at
Stramen, but sides with them against me. It is hard to fight our battles
all alone, and against our friends, after forty."
"The Lady Margaret, who dressed his wound, must be blamed--not I,"
replied the priest.
The handsome face of the Baron of Hers, in an instant, became black as
night, and as quickly recovered its former mildness; but the change,
apparently, was not noticed by him who had caused it.
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