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Page 63
The brief respite from arms that followed the battle of Fladenheim was
over. Hostilities had commenced. Cries of war were heard from every
quarter, and while the two kings were mustering their strength for
another great struggle, the partisans of Rodolph and Henry were daily
mingling in deadly strife. Nor were princes and counts, knights, pages,
and vassals alone in the field, but the spear and sword flashed in the
hands of bishops, abbots, and monks. Ulrich, Abbot of Saint Gall, was
ravaging Linzgau and Thurgovia, demolishing the castles of Otto, of
Marchdorf, Marquard of Bregence, and Hartman of Kyburg, and forcing the
friends of Rodolph to fly before him.
These trivial advantages were amply compensated by the victory of Welf
over Frederick of Hohenstaufen, at Hochstadt, and the occupation of
Augsburg.
It was in the month of October, 1080, that Henry, confiding in the
superior of numbers and discipline of his army, advanced upon Saxony,
where Rodolph calmly awaited his approach. Each monarch well knew that
the approaching contest would be decisive of his fate, and had omitted
nothing to insure the victory. Anxious to shorten an interval of such
painful suspense, they longed to meet, Henry stimulated by hatred and
the memory of his recent defeats, Rodolph animated by a just indignation
and conscious rectitude.
Once upon the soil of Saxony, Henry swept the country with fire and
sword to the banks of the Elster. He took a strong position at Mulsen,
and awaited reinforcements from Bohemia. When the desired succor had
arrived, he put his army in motion, intending to desolate the country
and then retire. But he had not advanced far, before he discovered the
allied forces of Saxony and Suabia drawn up to oppose him. Daunted for a
moment, by this gallant host, he fell back upon the Elster. The deep
river prevented a farther retreat. His position was protected by narrow
and difficult approaches, and by a deep morass. Here he passed the
night.
Early in the morning of the fifteenth of October, the army of Henry was
drawn up in battle array along the Elster, while the vanguard of his
rival became visible in the distance. The soldiers of the former were
unwearied and invigorated by a night of repose; the troops of Rodolph
were jaded with forced marches over roads almost impassable. Rodolph,
apprehensive lest fatigue should prove fatal, would have declined an
immediate action, but he found it impossible to restrain the ardor of
his men. The knights leaped from their sinking steeds and formed
themselves on foot, and the infantry, forgetting their toil at the sight
of the foe, continued to advance. They halted at length on the edge of
the deep morass of Grona, in full view of the opposing army on the other
side.
With Henry were the bishops of B�sle and Lausanne with their
men-at-arms, the Count Palatine Herman with all Franconia, Marquard of
Carinthia, and Lutold, his son. Many recreant Bavarians were around him,
and even Suabia raised her arm against her noble duke, in the person of
Werner, Archbishop of Strasburg. There, too, were found Ulrich of
Eppenstein, Arnaud of Lentzburg, Ulrich of Bregenz, Lutold of
Dillingen, the counts and prelates of the house of Welschneuenburg,
Egina of Achalm, and Werner of Gruningen. But conspicuous, even amid
that high-born and martial group, stood the Duke Godfrey of Bouillon and
Frederick of Hohenstaufen.
Rodolph was surrounded by Altman of Constance, and the mitres of Coire,
Rheinau, Stein, W�rtzburg, and Worms; he could touch the hands of
Eckhard of Richenau, of the Abbot of the Convent of All Saints at
Schafhouse, and of William de Hirschau, the most exemplary man of his
day. Welf, Otto of Nordheim, Berthold of Carinthia, and Hugo, Count
Palatine of T�bingen, were ready to support him with their lives, as
they marched on proudly at the head of their vassals and soldiers.
Glittering at his side were raised the lances of Marquard of Bregenz,
Hartman of Dillingen, Burchard of Nellemburg, Cuno and Lutold of Achalm,
Werner of Hapsburg, Adalbert of Calm, Albert of Hers, and Sandrit of
Stramen.
At the moment the advancing columns halted, the legates of Gregory
appeared in front of the army and imparted the Papal benediction to all
who had taken up arms against the enemy of the Church and of the
liberties of Germany. As if a thunderbolt had stricken them down, the
soldiers sank simultaneously upon their knees, and, with their heads
bent upon their hearts, received the boon so dearly prized. While they
were yet kneeling, the clerks began to intone the eighty-second Psalm,
and the solemn strains could be heard all along the ranks. How sad was
the thought, that this calm music was but the prelude to the groans of
the dying and the hoarse shouts of blood-stained victory! As the army
rose at the last note of the Psalm, the clash of steel, instead of the
mournful chant, was heard along the line.
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