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The social character of a Benedictine community
has been mentioned in one of the earlier chapters.
That of Einsiedlen, though charged with the
worship of altars especially favored, formed no exception
to the general rule. If any thing, the number
of distinguished pilgrims that frequented its
shrine, rendered it liable to more than usual demands
on its hospitality; demands that were met by a suitable
attention to the rules of the brotherhood. Even
Loretto has its palace for the entertainment of such
princes as can descend from their thrones to kneel
in the `santa casa;' for policy, not to speak of a
more generous motive, requires that the path should
be smoothed to those devotees who are unaccustomed
to encounter difficulties. In conformity with the
rule of their order, then, though dwelling in the secluded
and wild region already described, the fraternity
of our Lady of the Hermits, had their Abbot's
abode, their lodgings for the stranger, and their
stores of cheer, as well as their cells and their religious
rites.

It was about three hours after the interview related
in the last chapter—a time that brings us near
the turn of the night—that we shall return to the
narrative. The scene is a banqueting-hall, or, to
speak in more measured phrase, a private refectory,
in which the princely Abbot was wont to entertain
those in whose behalf he saw sufficient reasons to
exercise more than ordinary attention and favor.
There was no great show of luxury in the ordinary
decorations of the place, for a useless display of its
means formed no part of the system of a

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community that chiefly existed by the liberality of the pious.
Still the hall was as well arranged as comported
with the rude habits of the age, in that secluded region—
habits that consulted the substantial portion
of human enjoyments far more than those elaborate
and effeminate inventions, which use has since rendered
nearly indispensable to later generations. The
floor was of tile, not very nicely polished; the walls
were wainscoted in dark oak; and the ceiling had
a rude attempt to represent the supper given at the
marriage of Cana, and the miracle of the wine.
Notwithstanding it was midsummer, a cheerful fire
blazed in a chimney of huge dimensions; the size
of the apartment and the keen air of the mountains
rendering such an auxiliary not only agreeable, but
necessary. The board was spacious and well covered,
offering a generous display of those healthful
and warm liquors, which have so long given the
Rhine additional estimation with every traveller of
taste.

Around the table were placed the Abbot, and his
unhoused peer, Bonifacius; a favorite or two of the
community of Einsiedlen; with Emich, the Knight
of Rhodes, the Abbé, Heinrich Frey, and the smith.
The former were in their usual conventual robes;
while the latter were confounded, so far as externals
were concerned, in their dresses of pilgrims. Diet-rich
owed his present advantage altogether to the
fortuitous circumstance of being found in so good
company, divested of the usual distinguishing marks
of his rank. If Bonifacius was at all aware of his
character, indifference or policy prevented its exposure.

Had one been suddenly introduced to this midnight
scene, he would scarce have recognized the
weary penitent and the reproving churchman, in the
jovial cheer and boon companionship of the hour.
The appetite was already more than satisfied, and

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many a glass had been quaffed in honor of both
hosts and guests, ere the precise moment to which
we transfer the action of the tale.

The princely prelate occupied the seat of honor,
as became his high rank, while Bonifacius was
seated at one elbow, and the Count of Hartenburg
at the other. The great consideration due to the
first, as well as his personal character and mild
manners, had served to preserve all outward appearances
of amity and courteous intercourse between
his neighbors, neither of whom had as yet
suffered the slightest intimation of their former
knowledge of each other to escape him. This polite
duplicity, which we have reason to think is of very
ancient origin, and in which Albrecht of Viederbach
and Monsieur Latouche assisted with rare felicity,
aided in curbing the feelings of their inferiors, who,
being less trained in the seemliness of deception,
might otherwise have given vent to some of their
bodily pains, by allusions of an irritating and questionable
nature.

“Thou findest our liquors palatable?” courteously
observed the Abbot, as we shall, par excellence,
now distinguish him of Einsiedlen. “This of the
silver cup, cometh from the liberality of thy late
Elector, who had occasion to send votive offerings,
in behalf of the illness of one of his family, to our
Lady of the Hermits, and who had the grace to
accompany the memorial to the convent treasury
by this sign of private regard; and that thou seemest
most to relish, is a neighborly boon from our
brother of Saint Gall, than whom more generous
churchman does not wear a cowl. Thou knowest,
son, that the matter of good wine hath long been
the subject of especial care with that thriving brotherhood.”

“Thou overratest my knowledge of history, princely
Abbot,” returned Emich, setting down the glass,

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however, in a manner to show that his familiarity
with good liquors might safely be assumed. “We
of the lower countries waste but little time on these
studies, trusting chiefly to those who dwell at the
universities for the truth of what we hear. If he
of Saint Gall dispenseth much of this goodly liquor,
certes it were well that our spiritual guardians
sent us, on occasions, to make our pilgrimages in
that region, which cannot be far from this, unless
my geography is greatly in fault.”

“Thou couldest not have better divined, hadst
thou been a doctor of Wittenberg, or of Rome
itself! Considering our mountain paths, and the
insufficiency of the bridges and other conveniences,
it may require two suns to urge a beast from our
convent gate to that of our brother of Saint Gall,
though, on emergencies, we have succeeded, by
means of faithful footmen, in getting tidings to their
ears within the day and night. Saint Gall is a
wealthy and well-bestowed Abbey, of very ancient
existence, and of much repute as the haven of letters,
during the darkest period, learned Bonifacius,
of our more modern times; though the late increase
of its town, and the growing turbulence of the times,
have not permitted it to escape, with impunity, from
the dangers that now beset all of Rome.”

This was the first allusion which had been made
to the events that had so singularly brought the
present company together; and, but for the address
and self-command of Bonifacius, it might have
brought on a discussion that would not have proved
agreeable.

“Saint Gall and its merits are unknown to none
who wear the frock of Saint Benedict,” he said,
with admirable composure. “Thou hast well said
that its walls were, for many ages, the sole protectors
of learning in our Europe; for without the
diligence and fidelity of its Abbots and brotherhood,

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much that is now preserved and prized would have
been irretrievably lost to posterity and to ourselves.”

“I doubt not, reverend Benedictine,” observed
Emich, speaking courteously across the Abbot to
Bonifacius, much as a well-bred guest at board
addresses a convive to whom he is otherwise a
stranger, “that this rare taste in liquors, of which
there has just been question, is the fruit of the excellent
knowledge which you extol?”

“That is a point I shall not hastily decide,” returned
Bonifacius, smiling. “It may be so, for we
have accounts of sore discord, between Saint Gall
and others even of the Church, touching the uses
and qualities of their wines.”

“That have we, and right faithfully recorded!”
rejoined the Abbot. “There was the war between
the Prince Bishop of Basle and our brethren of
Saint Gall, that led to sore contentions and heavy
losses.”

“How! did the desire to partake, urge our Rhenish
prelate to push adventure so far, as to come this
distance in quest of liquor?”

“Thou art in error, son pilgrim, concerning the
nature of Saint Gall's stores. We have vineyards,
it is true, among these mountains, as witness those
on the shores of the neighboring lake of Zurich, as
well as others that might be named; but our country
wines will warm the blood of peasant only. He
that hath tasted better, seldom fills his cup with
liquor that comes from any region this side the
farther border of Swabia—your vines of the Rheingau
in specialty; whereas the territories of Saint
Gall lie still farther from those favored countries
than we ourselves.”

“You have need to explain, princely Abbot; for
that the Baslois should come in our direction, in
quest of good liquor, is clear enough, whereas the
war you have named, would have sent him farther
from his object.”

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“Thou hast not come hither, son, without marking
the course of the Rhine, on whose banks thou
hast so long journeyed. This great stream, though
so turbulent and dangerous among the mountains,
is of much use in procuring our supplies. By means
of the lake of Constance, and the lower river, heavy
burthens arrive at the very territory of our sister
Abbey; and the dispute to which there has been
allusion, came of the fact that the right reverend
prelate of Basle would fain have demanded toll on
the purchases of the Abbey. Thou mayest remember,
brother,” looking towards Bonifacius, “that
when both were tired of blows, the good Bishop
sent to demand `What the Virgin had done, that
the churchmen above should slay her people?' and
that he received for a merry answer the question
of, `What has Saint Gall done, that thou shouldest
stop his wines?”'

The listeners laughed, in low simpers, like men
amused with this characteristic narrative; for such
incidents were yet too recent to excite much other
reflection, even among churchmen, than what was
connected with the vulgar temporal interests of the
incident.

“By the Magi! holy and princely Abbot, thy
tale giveth additional flavor!” said Emich, who
greatly enjoyed the quarrel; “it moreover serveth
to shut out thoughts that come from aching bones
and weary feet.”

“Thy pilgrimage, son, will bring its rewards, as
well as its pains. Should it be a means of removing
thee, for a time, from the heresies of Germany,
and of placing thee and thine in more friendly communion
with the Church, the toil will not be lost.”

“As such do I esteem the duty,” returned Emich,
tossing off his glass, after steadily regarding the
liquor a moment by the fire-light. “Saint Gall had
the right of the matter; and he who would not

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take up arms for this, did not deserve to wear them.
How now, Herr Frey! Thou art silent?”

“Not more so, I trust, nobly-born Emich, than
becometh one on a pilgrimage; and one who hath
need to bethink him of his duties, lest his town
should have cause to reproach him with negligence.”

“God's truth, Master Burgomaster! If any here
have reason to bethink them of Deurckheim, it is
the city's sovereign and lord. So cheer up, and
let us lighten the load we carry, always under the
favor and good graces of this hospitable and well-endowed
brotherhood.”

“Thou art a servitor of the cross?” demanded
the Abbot of Albrecht of Viederback, beckoning
the Knight to come nearer.

“An indifferent one, princely and pious Rudiger,
and, I might say, one that hath yielded to the seductions
of company and good fellowship, not to speak
of the force of blood; else would he have been
spared this expiation.”

“Nay, I name not thy pursuit with the intent to
reproach;” interrupted the courteous prelate. “Such
liberty does not become hospitality. We make a
difference within these walls between the confessional
and the board.”

“The distinction is just, and promises perpetuity
and lasting respect to our faith, spite of all heresies.
The rock on which this Brother Luther and his
followers will split, holy Abbot—at least, it so seemeth
to an uninstructed capacity—is the desire to
refine beyond men's means of endurance. Religion,
like chivalry, is good in its way; but neither the
priest nor the knight can bear his armor at all times
and seasons. Your schismatic hath the desire to
convert the layman into a monk, whereas the beauty
of creation is its order; and he that is charged with
the cure of souls, is sufficient for his object, without
laying this constant burthen on the shoulders of

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him that hath already more of temporal cares than
he can bear.”

“Were others more of thy mind, son, we should
have less trouble, and better discipline. Our altars
are not useless, and if they who frequent them, could
be content to think that we are sufficient for their
safety, the world would be saved much disputation,
and haply some shedding of blood. But with these
safe and creditable opinions, Sir Knight and Pilgrim,”
continued the Abbot, dropping his voice to a
more confidential key, “it may be permitted me to
express surprise, that I see thee one of a penitence
commanded for violence done a convent!”

Albrecht of Viederbach shrugged his shoulders,
and glanced meaningly towards his cousin.

“What will you, right noble and reverend Prelate!
—We are but the creatures of accident. There
is respect due to fellowship and hospitality, to say
naught of the claims of blood and kindred. The evil
turn of the Rhodian warfare, some longings to look
again at our German fields, for the father-land keeps
its hold of us more particularly in adversity, with
the habits of an unsettled existence, served to lead
me to the castle of Hartenburg; and fairly entered,
it will excite no wonder that the guest was ready
to lend his sword, in a short foray, to the host. These
sallies, as thou well knowest, princely Rudiger, are
not so rare as to be deemed miracles.”

“What thou sayest is true,” returned the Abbot,
always speaking as it were aside to the Knight, and
manifesting no great surprise at this avowal of principles,
that were common enough in that age, and
which have descended in a different form to our
own, since we daily see men, in the gravest affairs
of a nation, putting their morality at the disposal of
party, rather than incur the odium of being wanting
in this species of social faith. “What thou sayest
is very true, and may well furnish thy plea with the

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Grand Master. Thou mayest on many accounts,
too, find this pilgrimage wholesome.”

“Doubt it not, reverend Abbot. We had little
time during the siege, to pay due attention to the
rites; and the general looseness of our lives, since
driven from the island, has left long arrears to
settle; a fact that I endeavor to remember now.”

“And thy associate—he of gentle mien; hath he
not also connexion with the Church?”

Albrecht turned to whisper the reply.

“'Tis but one that circulates under the frock, holy
Benedictine—a youth that hath been the dupe of
Lord Emich; for to speak thee fair, my cousin
wanteth not of the policy necessary to his condition,
and to the habits of a sage government.”

The Abbot smiled in a way to show a good intelligence
between him and his companion. After this,
they talked apart earnestly for a while, beckoning
Monsieur Latouche to make one of their party,
after sundry glances in his direction. In the mean
time, the general discourse proceeded among the
other guests.

“I was sorrowed to hear, reverend Benedictine,”
proceeded the Count, purposely avoiding the eye of
Bonifacius, by addressing himself to one of the brotherhood
of Einsiedlen, “that thy community hath
refused us masses, for the soul of one that fell in
that unhappy dispute which is the cause of our
present pleasure, in being in so goodly company. I
loved the youth, and would fain deal liberally by
those that remember his present necessities.”

“Hath the matter been fairly put to those having
the right to decide?” demanded the monk, showing
by the direction of his eye, that he meant his superior.

“They tell me it hath, and put touchingly; but
without success. I trust there has been no hostile interference,
in this affair, which concerneth no less
than a soul, and ought to be dealt by tenderly.”

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“I know of but one, and that is the Father of
Evil himself, that hath an enmity to souls!” answered
the monk, with very honest surprise—“As for
us, it is our pleasure to be of use on all such occasions;
and that especially when the request is preferred
by friends of the deceased, that are worthy
of so much higher favor.”

“Dost thou call those who overturn altars,” said
Bonifacius, sternly, and with great firmness of voice,—
“who visit the temple with the armed hand, and
who defy the Church, worthy of her favors!”

“Reverend Abbot!”—

“Nay, let him give his humor vent,” said Emich,
proudly—“The cold air and a roofless head are
apt to move the temper. I would fain have met thee,
Bonifacius, in amity, as should have been the case,
after our solemn treaty, and all the reparations that
are made; but the desire to rule, it would seem, does
not abandon thee, even in banishment!”

“Thou art deceived in imagining that I shall forget
myself, or my office, rude Emich;—the question
put was to the Benedictine, and not to thee.”

“Then let the Benedictine answer. I ask thee,
Father, is it becoming or just, that the soul of a
youth of good repute, of moral life, and of reasonable
earthly hopes, should be refused aid, on the
mere grudge of ancient hostility, or haply that there
were some passages at his death, that might have
been better avoided?”

“The Church must judge for itself, noble Pilgrim,
and decide on those rules which regulate its course!”

“By the sainted eleven thousand!—Thou forget-test,
that all usages have been respected, and that
the masses are not asked as the beggar imploreth
alms, but that fairly counted gold is preffered in behalf
of the youth. If enough has not been done in
this way, I swear to thee, Bonifacius, since it would
seem thy influence here is so strong, that on my

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return there shall be further offerings on his account.
Berchthold was very dear to me, and I would not
have it said that all memory of the boy is lost beneath
the ashes of Limburg.”

Though both in their several ways were irascible,
violent, and unaccustomed to control, neither Emich
nor Bonifacius was wanting in that species of selfcommand,
which is so necessary to men intrusted
with the care of important interests. They had
early learned to bring feeling more or less in subjection
to their policy; and though not quite equal to a
cold and managed display of indifference on such
subjects as too closely crossed their views, it required
a certain combination of excitement to induce
either, unnecessarily, to betray his true emotions.
Their personal intercourse had, in consequence of
this affected moderation, been less violent and
wrangling, than would otherwise have proved, for
it did not often happen that both found themselves
wrought up to the point of explosion, precisely at
the same instant; and he that happened to remain
the coolest, stood as a check on the passions of him
who had momentarily forgotten appearances. But
for this fact, the ill-timed and ill-worded question of
the Count might have produced an immediate rupture,
to the injury of the pilgrims' interests, and to
the great scandal of the brotherhood of Einsiedlen:
as it was, however, Bonifacius listened with outward
courtesy, and answered more like one that remembered
his priestly office than his particular injuries.

“Had it been my good fortune, Herr Pilgrim,” he
said calmly, “to have remained in charge of altars
so esteemed, as to be sought on such a behalf, thy
application in favor of the youth would have received
meet attention; but thou now addresseth a
prelate, that, like thee, is indebted to the hospitality
of these excellent brothers, for a roof to cover his
head.”

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“Nay, I know not,” added the Count a little confused
by this sudden humility, “but rather than desert
so young a soul in this strait, and soul of a servitor
whom I so much loved, that I would not even
now endow some chapel—of a size and decorations
suited to his station while living.”

“On Limburg hill, Herr Emich?”

“Nay, excellent Bonifacius, thou forgettest our
loving treaty, this pilgrimage, and other conditions
honorably fulfilled. Altars can never rise again on
Limburg hill, for that were to lose sight of our oaths
and promises, which would be a crying sin in both;
but altars and chapels may exist elsewhere. Give
us then this grace, and look to our gratitude and
justice for the reward.”

Bonifacius smiled, for he felt his power, and he
enjoyed it like a man conscious of having so lately
been in the hands of the very baron, who now so
earnestly beseeched his favor. It may not be easy
for one educated in these later days, to understand
the singular contradiction, which led Emich of Hartenburg,
the destroyer of Limburg, thus to entreat
a monk; but he who would properly understand his
character, must remember the durability of impressions
made in youth, the dread mystery that is attached
to the unknown future, and, most of all, the
flagrant inconsistencies, that are always the fruits
of a struggle between principles and interests,—between
the force of reason and the desires of selfishness.

“Thou accusest me unwarrantably, when thou
sayest that our oaths, or our loving treaty is forgotten,
pious Pilgrim,” returned the Benedictine; “both
are respected and well remembered, as thou wilt
see, in the end. But there is a feature in this request
of thine, that hath apparently escaped unwittingly
one of thy known justice and impartiality. Thy
forester is well known for having greatly affected
the heresy that is ripe in Germany—”

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