The assailants, as has been seen, were led by the
Burgomaster, and his two lieutenants, Berchthold and
the smith. Close at the heels of the latter followed
three of his own journeymen, each, like his master,
armed with a massive sledge. No sooner did the
party reach the gate, than these artisans commenced
the duty of pioneers, with great readiness and skill.
At the third blow, from Dietrich's brawny arm, the

[figure description] Page 067.[end figure description]

gate flew open, and those in front rushed into the
court.

“Who art thou?” cried Berchthold, seizing a man
who knelt with a knee on another's breast, immediately
across his passage; “Speak, for this is not a
moment of trifling!”

“Master Forester, be less hot, and remember
thy friends. Dost not see it is Gottlob, that holdeth
the convent porter, lest the knave should use the
additional bars. There are strangers within, and,
to consult his ease, the faithless varlet hath not done
his fastenings properly, else mightest thou have pounded
till Duke Friedrich's men were upon thee.”

“Bravely done, foster brother! Thy signal was
seen and counted on; but, since thou knowest the
ways so well, lead on, at once, against the men-at-arms.”

“Himmel! The rogues have bristly beards, well
grizzled with war, and may not like to have their
sleep thus suddenly broken; but service must be
done—Choose the most godly of thy followers, worshipful
Burgomaster, to go against the monks, who
are fortified in their choir, and well armed with
prayer; while I will lead the more carnal to another
sort of work against the Elector's people.”

While this short dialogue had place, the whole of
the assailants poured through the gate, their officers
endeavoring to maintain something like order, among
the ill-trained band. All felt the imperious necessity
of first disposing of the troops; for as respects the
monks themselves, there was certainly no cause of
immediate apprehension. A few were left, therefore,
to guard the gate, while Heinrich, guided by the
cow-herd, led his followers toward the buildings,
where the men-at-arms were known to lodge.

If we were to say that the party advanced to this
attack without concern, we should overrate their
valor, and do the reputation of the Elector's men

[figure description] Page 068.[end figure description]

injustice. There was sacrilege in the invasion of
the convent, according to the predominant opinions
of the age; for though Protestantism had made great
progress, even reformers had grievous doubts in
severing the bonds of habit and long-established
prejudices. To this lurking sentiment was added
the unaccountable silence that still reigned among
the men-at-arms, who, as Gottlob had said, were
known to be excellent soldiers at need. They lay in
the rear of the Abbot's dwelling, and were sufficiently
intrenched behind walls, and among the gardens,
to make a fierce resistance.

But all these considerations rather flashed upon
the minds of the leaders, than they were maturely
weighed. In the moment of assault there is little
leisure for thought, especially when the affair gets
to be as far advanced as this we are now describing.
The men rushed towards the point of attack, accordingly,
beset by misgivings rather than entertaining
any very clear ideas of the dangers they ran.

Gottlob had evidently made the best of the time
he had been at liberty in the Abbey, to render himself
master of the intricate windings of the different
passages. He was soon at the door of the Abbot's
abode, which was dashed into splinters by a
single blow of Dietrich's sledge, when there poured
a stream of reckless, and we may add lawless,
soldiery through the empty apartments. In another
moment, the whole of the assailants were in the
grounds, in the rear of this portion of the dwellings.

As there is nothing that more powerfully rebukes
violence than a calm firmness, so is there nothing so
appalling to or so likely to repulse an assault, as a
coolness that seems to set the onset at defiance.
In such moments, the imagination is apt to become
more formidable than the missiles of an enemy;
conjuring dangers in the place of those, which, in
the ordinary course of warfare, might be lightly

[figure description] Page 069.[end figure description]

estimated were they seen. Every one knows, that
the moment which precedes the shock of battle, is
by far the most trying to the constancy of man,
and a reservation of the means of resistance is prolonging
that moment, and of course increasing its
influence.

Every man among the hostile band, even to the
leaders, felt the influence of this mysterious quiet
among the troops of the Elector. So imposing in
fact did it become, that they halted in a group, a
position of all others most likely to expose them to
defeat,—and there was a low rumor of mines and
ambuscades.

Berchthold perceived that the moment was critical,
and that there was imminent danger of defeat.

“Follow!” he cried, waving his sword, and springing
towards the silent buildings in which it was known
the men-at-arms were quartered. He was valiantly
seconded by the Burgomaster and the smith, when
the whole party resumed its courage, and advanced
tumultuously against the doors and windows. The
sounds of the sledges, and the yielding of bars and
bolts, came next; after which the rush penetrated to
the interior. The cries of the assailants rang among
empty vaults. There was the straw, the remnants
of food, the odor of past debauches, and all the
usual disgusting signs of ill-regulated barracks; for
in that day, neatness and method did not descend
far below the condition of the affluent; but no cry
answered cry, no sword or arquebuse was raised
to meet the blow of the invader. Stupor was the
first feeling, on gaining the knowledge of this important
fact. Then Heinrich and Berchthold both
issued orders to bring the captured porter, who was
in the centre of the assailants, before them.

“Explain this,” said the Burgomaster, authoritatively;
“what hath become of Duke Friedrich's
followers?”

[figure description] Page 070.[end figure description]

“They departed at the turn of the night, worshipful
Herr, leaving Limburg to the care of its
patron saint.”

“Gone! whither, and in what manner?—If thou
deceivest me, knave, thy saint Benedict himself
shall not save thee from a flaying!”

“I pray you be not angered, great magistrate,
for I say nothing but truth. There came an order
from the Elector, as the sun set, recalling his meanest
warrior: for, it is said, he is sore pressed, and
hath great need of succor.”

The silence which followed this explanation, was
succeeded by a shout, and individuals began to
steal eagerly away from the main body, bent on
their own designs of pillage.

“What road took the Duke's men?”

“Worshipful Heinrich, they went down by the
horse-path, in great secrecy and order, and passed
up the opposite mountain, in order to escape troubling
the townsmen to open the gates at that late
hour. It was their intention to cross the cedars of
the Heidenmauer, and, descending on the other
side of the camp, to gain the plain in the rear of
Deurckheim.”

There no longer remained a doubt that the conquest
was achieved, and the entire party broke off
in bands; some to execute their private orders, and
others, like those who had already proved delinquent,
to look after their own particular interests.

Until this moment not a solitary straggler had
gone near the chapel. As it was not the wish of
those who had planned the assault, to do personal
injury to any of the fraternity, the orders had been
so worded, as to leave this portion of the Abbey for
a time unvisited, in the expectation that the monks
would profit by the omission, to escape by some of
the many private posterns that communicated with
the cloisters. But, as there no longer was an armed

[figure description] Page 071.[end figure description]

enemy to subdue, it now became necessary to think of
the fraternity. The process of sacking their dormitories
was already far advanced, and the bursts of
exultation, that began to issue from the buildings,
announced that the rich and commodious dwelling
of the Abbot himself was undergoing a similar
summary process.

“Himmel!” muttered Gottlob, who from the moment
of his liberation had not quitted the side of his
foster brother, “our castle rogues are taking deep
looks into the books of the most reverend Bonifacius,
Master Berchthold! It were good to tell them
which are Latin, at least, lest they burthen their
shoulders with learning they can never use.”

“Let the knaves plunder,” replied Heinrich, gruffly;
“as much evil as good hath come from that store of
letters, and it will be all the better for Deurckheim
were the damnable ammunition of the Benedictines
a little less plenty. There are those on the plains
who doubt that necromancy is bound up in some
of the volumes that bear a saint's name on their
backs.”

Perhaps Berchthold might have remonstrated,
had not his instinct told him, that remonstrance on
such a subject, in that moment of riot and confusion,
would have been worse than useless. The consequence
was, that valuable works and numerous
manuscripts, which had been collected during centuries
of learned ease, were abandoned to the humor
of men incapable of estimating their value, or even
of understanding their objects.

“Let us to the monks,” said Heinrich, sheathing
his heavy blade, for the first time since they had
quitted the wood. “Friend smith, thou wilt look to
the duties here, and see that what is done is done
thoroughly. Remember that thy metal is well heated,
and on the anvil, waiting thy pleasure; it must
be beaten flat, lest at another day it be remoulded

[figure description] Page 072.[end figure description]

into a weapon to do us harm. Go to, Dietrich; thou
knowest what we of the town would have, and what
we expect of thy skill.”

Taking Berchthold by the arm, the Burgomaster
led the way towards that far-famed pile, the Abbeychurch.
They were followed by a body of some
twenty chosen artisans, who, throughout the whole
of that eventful night, kept close to the two leaders,
like men who had been selected for this particular
duty.”

The same ominous silence reigned around the
chapel as had rendered the approach to the quarters
of the men-at-arms imposing. But here the invaders
went against a different enemy. With most then
living, the mysterious power of the Church still
possessed a deep and fearful interest. Dissenters
had spoken boldly, and the current of public opinion
had begun to set strongly against the Romish Church,
in all that region, it is true; but it is not easy to
eradicate by the mere efforts of reason, the deep
roots that are thrown out by habit and sentiment.
At this very hour, we see nearly the entire civilized
world committing gross and evident wrongs, and
justifying its acts, if we look closely into its philosophy,
on a plea little better than that of a sickly taste
formed by practices which in themselves cannot be
plausibly vindicated. The very vicious effects of
every system are quoted as arguments in favor of
its continuance; for changes is thought to be, and
sometimes is, a greater evil than the existing wrong;
and men, in millions, are doomed to continue degraded,
ignorant, and brutal, simply because vicious
opinions refuse all sympathy with those whose hopeless
lot it has been to have fallen, by the adventitious
chances of life, beneath the ban of society. In this
manner does error beget error, until even philosophy
and justice are satisfied with making abortive attempts
to palliate a disease that a bolder and better

[figure description] Page 073.[end figure description]

practice might radically cure. It will not occasion
surprise, therefore, when we say, that both Heinrich
and Berchthold had heavy misgivings concerning
the merit of their enterprise, as they drew near
the church. Perhaps no man ever much preceded
his age, without at moments distrusting his own
principles; and it is certain, that Luther himself
was often obliged to wrestle with harassing doubts.
Berchthold was less troubled, however, than his
companion, for he acted under the orders of a
superior, and was both younger and better taught
than the Burgomaster. The first of these facts was
sufficient of itself, under his habits, to remove a
load of responsibility from his shoulders, while the
latter not only weakened the influence of previous
opinions, but caused those which he had adopted to
be well fortified. In short, there existed between
Heinrich and Berchthold that sort of difference
which all must have remarked in the advancing age
in which we live, between him who has inherited
his ideas from generations that have passed, and
him who obtains them from his contemporaries.
The young Forester had grown into manhood since
the voice of the Reformer was first heard in Germany,
and as it happened to be his lot to dwell among those
who listened to the new opinions, he had imbibed
most of their motives of dissent, without ever having
been much subject to the counteracting influence
of an opposite persuasion. It is in this gradual manner,
that nearly all salutary moral changes are
effected, since they who first entertain them, are
rarely able to do more, in their generation, than to
check the progress of habit; while the duty of
causing the current to flow backward, and to take
a new direction, devolves on their succassors.

In believing that Wilhelm of Venloo would be
foremost in deserting his post, in this moment of
outrage and tumult, the authors of the assault did

[figure description] Page 074.[end figure description]

him injustice. Though little likely to incur the hazards,
or to covet the honors of martyrdom, the
masculine mind of the Abbot elevated him altogether
above the influence of any very abject passion; and
if he had not self-command to curtail the appetites,
he had a dignity of intellect which rarely deserts
the mentally-gifted in situations of difficulty. When
Heinrich and Berchthold, therefore, entered the
church, they found the entire community in the choir,
remaining, like Roman senators, to receive the blow
in their collective and official character. There
might have been artifice, as well as magnanimity,
in the resolution which had decided Bonifacius to
adopt this course; for, coming as they did from the
scene of brutal violence without, those who entered
the church were much impressed by the quiet solemnity
which met them.

The candles still burned before the altar, the lamps
threw their flickering light on the quaint architecture
and the gorgeous ornaments of the chapel, while
every pale face and shaven head beneath, looked
like some consecrated watchman, placed near the
shrine to protect it from pollution. Each monk was
in his stall, with the exception of the Prior and Father
Johan, who had stationed themselves on the
steps of the altar; the first as the officiating priest
of the late mass, and the latter under an impulse of
his governing and natural exaggeration, which
moved him to throw his person as a shield before the
vessel that contained the host. The Abbot was on
his throne, motionless, indisposed to yield, and
haughty, though with features that betrayed great
and condensed passion.

The Burgomaster and Berchthold advanced into
the choir alone, for their followers remained in the
body of the church, in obedience to a sign from the
former. Both were uncovered, and while they
walked slowly up the choir, scarce a head moved.

[figure description] Page 075.[end figure description]

Every eye seemed riveted, by a common spell, on
the crucifix of precious stones and ivory that stood
upon the altar. The blood of Heinrich creeped under
the influence of this solemn calm, and by the
time he had reached the steps, where he stood confronted
equally to the Abbot and the Prior, for the
former of whom he had quite as much fear as hatred,
and for the latter an unfeigned love and reverence,
the resolution of the honest Burgomaster was sensibly
weakened.

“Who art thou?” demanded Bonifacius, admirably
timing his question, by the indecision and the
quailing eye of him he addressed.

“By Saint Benedict! my face is no such stranger
in Limburg that you put this question, most holy
Abbot,” answered Heinrich, making an effort to
imitate the other's composure, that was very sensible
to himself, but better concealed from others; “though
not shaven and blessed, like a monk, I am one well
known to most that dwell in or near Deurckheim!”

“I had better said, `What art thou?' Thy name
and office are known to me, Heinrich Frey; but in
what character dost thou now presume to enter
Limburg church, and to show this want of reverence
to our altars?”

“To speak thee fairly, reverend Bonifacius, 'tis in
the character of the head-man of Deurckheim, a
much-injured and long-abused town, that is tired of
monkish exactions and monkish pride, and which
hath at length assumed the office of doing itself justice,
that I appear. We are here to night, not as
peaceful citizens bent on prayers and hymn-singing,
but armed, as thou seest, and bold in the intention
to do away a nuisance from the neighborhood for
ever.”

“Thy words are as little friendly as thy guise,
and what thou sayest here, but too well answers to
that which thy rude followers perform beyond the

[figure description] Page 076.[end figure description]

walls of this consecrated spot. Hast thou well
pondered on this bold step of thy town, Herr Heinrich?”

“If often pondering be well pondering, it hath
been before us, Bonifacius, at different meetings,
and in various discussions, any time this year past.”

“And hast thou no dread of Rome?”

“That is an authority which lessens daily in this
region, holy Benedictine. Not to deal doubly by
thee, of the two we have most distrusted the anger
of Duke Friedrich; but that fear is diminished by
the certainty that he hath so much on his hands just
now, that his thoughts cannot easily turn to other
affairs. We did not know, in sooth, that he had
recalled his men-at-arms, but had counted on some
angry discussion with those obstinate warriors; and
thou wilt easily comprehend that their absence hath,
in no manner, lessened our faith in our own cause.”

“The Elector may regain his power, when a day
of reckoning will come for those who have dared
to profit by his present distress.”

“We are traders and artisans, good Bonifacius,
and have made our estimates with some nicety. If
the Abbey must be paid for—an event by no means
certain—we shall count the bargain profitable so
long as it cannot be rebuilt. Brother Luther, we
think, is laying a corner-stone that will prevent the
devil from ever attempting to set up that which we
now propose to throw down.”

“This is thy final answer, Burgomaster?”

“Nay, I say not that, Abbot. Send in thy terms
to the town-council to-morrow, and, if we can entertain
them, it may happen that a present accommodation
shall stop all further claims. But what
has here been so happily commenced, must be as
happily finished.”

“Then before I quit these holy walls, hearken to
my malediction,” returned Bonifacius, rising with

[figure description] Page 077.[end figure description]

priestly and practised dignity:—“ on thee and on
thy town—on all that call thee magistrate—parent—”

“Stay the dreadful words!” cried a piercing female
voice from among the columns behind the choir.
“Reverend and holy Abbot, have mercy!” added
Ulrike, pale, trembling, and shaken equally with
horror and alarm, though her eye was bright and
wild, like that of one sustained by more than human
purpose: “Holy Priest, forbear! He knows not what
he does. Madness hath seized on him and on the
town. They are but tools in the hands of one more
powerful than they.”

At the appearance of Ulrike, Bonifacius resumed
his seat, disposed to await the effect of her appeal.

“Thou here!” said Heinrich, regarding his wife
with surprise, but entirely without anger or suspicion.

“Happily here, to avert this fearful crime from
thee and thy household.”

“I had thought thee at thy prayers with the poor
Herr von Ritterstein, in his comfortless hermitage
of the Heidenmauer!”

“And canst thou think of the deed which hath
driven the Herr Odo to this penitence and suffering,
and stand here armed and desperate! Thou seest
that years do not suffice to relieve a soul on which
the weight of sacrilege rests; oh! hadst thou been
with me, to witness the agony that preyed upon
poor Odo, as he knelt at yonder step, listening to
the mass that hath this night been said in his behalf,
thou mightest better know how deep is the wound
made on the heart that hath been seared by God's
anger!”

“This is most strange!” rejoined the wondering
Burgomaster; “that those whom I had hoped well
disposed of, and that in a manner neither to suspect
nor to trouble our enterprise, should cross us at the

[figure description] Page 078.[end figure description]

moment when all is so near completion! Sapperment!
young Berchthold, thou seest in what manner
matrimony clogs the stoutest of us, though girded
with the sword.”

“And thou, Berchthold Hintermayer, son of my
dearest friend—child of my fondest hope,—thou
comest, too, on this unholy errand, like the midnight
robber, stealing upon the unarmed and consecrated!”

“None love, or none reverence thee, more than
I, Madame Ulrike,” answered the youth, bowing
with sincere respect; “but wert thou to address
thy speech to the Herr Heinrich, it would go at
once to him who directs our movements.”

“Then on thee, Burgomaster, will be thrown the
heaviest load of Heaven's displeasure, as on the
leader of the outrage. What matters it that the
Benedictines are grasping, or overweening in their
respect for themselves, or that some among them
have forgotten their vows? Is not this temple devoted
to God? Are not these his altars, before which
thou hast dared to come, with a hostile heart and an
angry purpose?”

“Go to, good Ulrike,” returned Heinrich, saluting
the cold but ever handsome cheek of his wife, who
leaned her head on his shoulder to recall her faculties,
while she firmly held his hand with both her
own, as if to stay his acts; “Go to, thou art excellent
in thy way, but what can thy sex know of policy?
This matter hath been had up before many
councils; and—by my beard!—tongue of woman
cannot shake the resolutions of Deurckheim. Go,
depart with thy nurse, and leave us to do our pleasure.”

“Is it thy pleasure, Heinrich, to brave Heaven?
Dost thou not know, that the crimes of the parent
are visited on the child—that the wrong done to-day,
however we may triumph in present success, is sure

[figure description] Page 079.[end figure description]

to revisit us in the dread shape of punishment? Were
there no other power than conscience, so long as
that fearful scourge remains on earth, 'tis vain to
expect immunity. Dost thou owe all to thy Deurckheim
council and its selfish policy? Hast thou forgotten
the hour that my pious parents gave thee my
hand, and the manner in which thou then plighted
thy faith to protect me and mine, to assume the place
of these departed friends, to be father, and mother,
and husband, to her thou took to thy bosom? Is
Meta—that child of our mutual esteem—naught, that
thou triflest with her peace and hopes? Lay aside,
then, these hasty intentions, and turn thy mind to
thine own abode; bethink thee of those whom nature
and the law condemn to suffer for thy faults, or to
whom both have given the dearer right to rejoice
in thy clemency and mercy.”

“Was ever woman so bent on crossing the noble
duties of man!” said the Burgomaster, who, spite
of himself, had been sensibly moved by this hasty
and comprehensive picture of his domestic duties,
and who was greatly troubled to find the means of
extricating himself from the position in which he
stood.—“ Thou art better in thy chamber, good
Ulrike. Meta will hear of this onset, and have her
fears.—Go then, and calm the child; thou shalt have
such escort as becometh my quality and thy deserts.”

“Berchthold, I make the last appeal to thee. This
cruel father, this negligent husband, is too madly bent
on his council, and on the wild policy of the town, to
remember God! But thou hast young hopes, and sentiments
that become thy years and virtue. Dost think,
rash boy, that one like Meta will dare trust the last
chance of happiness to a participator in this crime,
when such an inheritance of guilt will be the portion
that shall descend from her own father?”

A stir among the monks, who had hitherto listened

[figure description] Page 080.[end figure description]

with an attention that vacillated between hope and
fear, interrupted the answers of the wavering Burgomaster
and his young companion. The movement
was caused by the entrance of the group,
which, until now, had stood aloof in the obscurity
of the great aisle, but which seized the moment of
doubt, to advance into the centre of the choir. One,
closely muffled, walked from out its centre, and
throwing aside the cloak that had concealed his
form, showed the armed person of Emich of Leiningen.
The moment Ulrike recognized the unbending
eye of the Baron, she buried her face in her
hands, and quitted the place. She went not unattended,
however, for both her husband and Berchthold
followed anxiously; nor did either return to
the work of the night, until he had seen the heart-stricken
wife and mother under the protection of a
well-chosen company of the townsmen.