"It is well known," said the Pavian consul, "that the Milanese are always as willing to make as they are to break their engagements. Sire, reflect upon the treachery of the past, and do not allow them to renew it."

"Milan destroyed our city and led away her inhabitants as captives; let the same fate be inflicted upon her," urged the consul of Lodi.

"Unexampled confiscations have filled the Milanese treasury; it will not be difficult for the city to pay a heavy tribute," added the Consul of Novara. "When, after three years' absence, her hostages return, it will be easy to rebuild the fortifications which she now promises to demolish. She will again destroy the Imperial citadel, make new alliances, and put herself at the head of a new league against the Emperor and the Empire. The propositions now submitted to your Majesty offer an insufficient guaranty against a relapse into her former tyranny."

"So long as Milan exists, the safety and peace of Lombardy cannot be a.s.sured on a solid basis," said the consul of Vercelli. "Your Highness must not only perform an act of justice, but also protect the interests of the Italian cities. Not a stone should be left upon another in Milan!"

The n.o.bles seemed to dissent; but Frederic, who had silently listened to the various arguments, gave no intimation of his own sentiments, whether they were in favor of moderation or anger.

"The opinions are divided," said he, at length; "my Lord Chancellor, be so kind as to give us your advice."

"It seems to me," answered Rinaldo, "that the grave outrages committed against your Imperial Majesty, can only be expiated by an unreserved submission. If Milan has decided to cease her resistance, let her yield to the Emperor unconditionally; it should depend upon his generosity whether the voice of pity or of vengeance is to prevail."

"We agree with you, my lord," said Frederic; "your words decide the question. It is not the besieged, but the victor, who should dictate the conditions. Whenever Milan shall have surrendered at discretion, we will make known our intentions."

"Our powers scarcely go so far," replied Nigri.

"You can inform your countrymen of our pleasure. Lose no time here, that your delay may not r.e.t.a.r.d the destiny of your city."

_CHAPTER XXIX_.

_HUMILIATION_.

The Milanese had not doubted that their proposition would be at once accepted. Frederic's refusal consequently was a matter of surprise, and a majority of the most influential citizens felt confident that the people would continue an energetic defence, rather than unconditionally capitulate. They were mistaken. The Milanese refused to hear a word spoken in favor of further resistance.

When this information was communicated to the monarch, his satisfaction was unbounded, for he foresaw at once the results of his victory;--with Milan fell the last support of Alexander III.

Frederic had driven the unfortunate Pontiff from Rome; and although Genoa had offered him an asylum, this city could not hope to be able long to serve as a refuge to the fugitive head of the Church; for with the surrender of Milan, the resistance of the remaining cities of Lombardy became unavailing.

"The chief bulwark of Alexander's faction is levelled, and his defeat prepares a glorious future for you, Sire," said Rinaldo, entering the Imperial chamber. "Your wish of itself will suffice to drive Roland from Genoa. And where can he go then? Spain alone can support his supremacy so long as she is not struggling against the Moors. As to France, she cannot recognize this pretended pope, and England must follow her example. I see nothing for him but to seek the aid of the Saracens,--a strange alliance for His Holiness."

He was dreaming of the future; Frederic, on the other hand, was occupied only with the present. He desired that the formal surrender of Milan should take place in the style best calculated to strike the imagination. He wanted a tragedy to mark the fall of this queen of Lombardy, and he fixed the 6th of March as the date of the performance.

A platform, sufficiently vast to accommodate, at the same time, the Emperor and all his n.o.bles, was erected outside of the camp. It was an amphitheatre, with fourteen tiers of seats for the n.o.bility, whilst the Imperial throne towered above in splendid magnificence, an emblem of the supremacy of the sovereign. The platform was hung with scarlet cloth, and costly carpets were spread in the immediate vicinity of the monarch's stand, which was richly ornamented with garlands of flowers and decked with the pennons of the different princes. Behind was hoisted the Imperial banner.

On the appointed day the troops were drawn up in battle-array upon the plain, and the sunlight danced merrily upon the thousands of helmets and lances of polished steel. Nearer, the knights, in complete armor, sat motionless upon their chargers, like a wall of iron.

The Milanese advanced despondently and slowly in dense ma.s.ses. At their head walked the consuls, barefooted, with halters around their necks, and clothed in sackcloth. The banners and escutcheons of the several munic.i.p.alities were borne aloft on long lances. Not a breath of wind moved them, and they hung sadly against their staves, as though mourning their city's ruin. The keys of the town were carried on a cushion of blue velvet, ready to be offered, by the consuls, to the Emperor. The bugles at times rang out a melancholy wail of despair, and when they ceased, there went up a dirge of woe mingled with supplications for mercy, like those uttered by the people in moments of national calamity. It seemed as if Heaven were taking part in the sombre pageant, for dark clouds suddenly veiled the sun, and the air grew heavy and oppressive. The victors themselves were affected by the sight of this humiliation of their valiant enemies, and only among the troops of the Italian auxiliaries could be seen a sneer of irony and exultation.

The consuls halted in front of the platform, and a thrill of anxious expectation ran from rank to rank, until it reached the gates of Milan, whence the people still continued to issue. Insensibly the crowd stood still. The very boldest now were bowed to the earth. On all sides nothing met the eye but ashes and cords and penitential vestments. The trumpets were silent, and the solemn chant, _Kyrie Eleison_! _Kyrie Eleison_! was heard, as if the citizens would show that they expected no aid now but from G.o.d. From time to time a plaintive groan was answered by a thousand sighs of agony: it seemed the dying breath of a whole nation whose funeral knell was sounding.

There was a flourish of trumpets near the Imperial tent; Barbarossa was about to appear. The sound grew nearer and more distinct; and then the Emperor, surrounded by his n.o.bles, rode up and dismounted about thirty paces from the throne. With haughty bearing and a look of pride upon his face, Frederic moved forward, followed by a splendid array of knights and princes. Far away in the distance stretched the serried ranks of the army, and the whole scene had that character of majestic grandeur so well suited to the sovereign who dictated the laws of the world.

Next to the monarch came the amba.s.sadors of France and Spain and England, who, although nominally sent to the Court on business of State, seemed only there to share in Barbarossa's triumph as spectators of his greatness. Frederic mounted the throne, his n.o.bles took seats in the amphitheatre, and at once a loud shout of glad applause rent the air. The meanest soldier of the army rejoiced, for he felt that the bright rays of the Imperial sun shone even upon him. He saw the Emperor above all; below him were the brilliant ranks of the n.o.bles, at his feet the people of Milan, prostrate and humbled in the dust! The mind of Barbarossa was occupied with considerations of grave importance. His face beamed with the intoxication of success, for his soul exulted in his new honors. He saw all the nations, from Rome to Lubeck, with their millions of inhabitants, submissive to his sceptre. He thought of England and Spain, and France and Greece; and though there was much for him to do ere they could be overcome, the end which he had in view seemed bright with hope. His dream was to establish the supremacy of the Empire over all the thrones of Christendom. He was ambitious to be the successor of Charlemagne, not merely in name and dignity, but also in power. Plunged in his revery, he had forgotten even the contemplated demolition of rebellious Milan. The consuls had delivered up the keys of the city, already they had sworn their fealty, in the presence of four hundred n.o.bles, when a tumultuous movement of the troops interrupted his meditations.

One wing of the army which occupied the open s.p.a.ce between the encampment and the fortress, had changed front, and swinging round, opened a pa.s.sage to the advancing population, which was mingling its groans and lamentations with the blasts of martial music and the shouts of triumph. With halters around their necks and cross in hand, covered with sackcloth and penitential vestments, they halted, successively, before the Imperial throne, and as each group laid down before it their banners and trumpets, they solemnly swore fealty, and then, slowly and sadly, took their way towards the narrow s.p.a.ce reserved for them on the opposite side of the plain.

There was something really majestic in this simple demonstration of the Milanese; and as their bugles sounded their farewell notes, and their banners fell upon the ground, one would have imagined that a fraction of the people was breathing its last sigh. Even the conquerors were moved to pity, and although those nearest to the sovereign prudently dissembled their emotion, the tears coursed down the bronzed cheeks of more than one rude soldier. Barbarossa alone was stern and pitiless, and his remorseless glance, bent upon the vanquished foe, seemed to indicate that he considered the punishment a feeble atonement for the outrage offered to his Imperial majesty.

The plain was now covered with a dense crowd. An immense chariot, drawn by five white oxen, advanced slowly, bearing the celebrated statue of St. Ambrose, Milan's patron saint, and an immense pole from which fluttered the city's flag and those of all the other towns of the confederation. The chariot was hung with scarlet cloth, the drivers were dressed in scarlet, and twelve warriors, with casques and corslets of polished steel, covered with robes of purple, formed an escort of honor.

This chariot, which had been built by the Archbishop Ariberti, played an important part in times of war, and was looked upon almost as the _Palladium_ of the City of Milan.

During battle its banner towered above the combatants, and served as a rallying-point; and it was the duty of the citizens to defend it to the death,--it was the symbol, the soul of the free City, the glory and honor of Milan.

It halted in front of the throne, and the guards descended. A death-like silence reigned, and glances of tearful anger were turned towards Barbarossa. Suddenly an ominous crash was heard, the flag-staff had broken, and its fall upset the car. The image of St. Ambrose, the flags and banners, had rolled in the dust; and the deep bell of the distant cathedral tolled out mournfully, as these symbols, once so brilliant, lay stretched upon the ground, in striking a.n.a.logy to the fate which awaited Milan.

The people broke oat in groans of rage; some tore their hair in very desperation, while others, yielding to the weight of their emotion, were silent and bit their lips with grief and mortification. Still the Emperor remained unmoved, although there were tears on the energetic face of Henry the Lion, and his features told of his deep sympathy with the humiliation of the ill.u.s.trious city.

The Count of Biandrate, formerly an ally of the Milanese, but now a stanch partisan of the Emperor, advanced, and kneeling before the sovereign, craved his mercy.

"I implore your Majesty," he said, "to have pity upon this people, which, humbled in the dust, prays for your forgiveness. All the greatness, all the power of the proud city is at your feet. Do not regard them as criminals; look upon them as your children who knew not how to discriminate between good and evil; grant them their lives, and let compa.s.sion moderate your justice!"

"Experience has already taught us the sad results of too much clemency," answered Barbarossa. "Milan has despised and rejected our favors, and has always remained the centre of all the seditions, the directress of all the plots against the Empire and its sovereign."

"Nevertheless, I still supplicate your Majesty," continued the Count, seeing that the Emperor's hesitation displeased the n.o.bles, "not to break the bruised reed. Would the fame of your Highness, or of the German nation be increased, if, upon a sign from you, this mighty city, this a.s.semblage of warriors, became the object of a chastis.e.m.e.nt unequalled in the annals of Christendom?"

The n.o.bles audibly gave signs of approbation, and Frederic was unable to resist. Too much violence might produce unpleasant consequences; he understood the position and moderated his sentence.

"I will treat them with all the forbearance which is compatible with justice," he said. "All have merited death; we will grant their lives to all!"

"G.o.d be praised!" exclaimed the n.o.bles.

But the Italians murmured. They wished nothing less than the destruction of the city; and several of the consuls of the allied towns stepped forward, and expressed their views with a violence and animosity which, inwardly, pleased the Emperor.

"Sire," said the Pavian consul, "Milan destroyed Como and Lodi, it is but justice that she should share their fate."

"Recollect, Sire," added the consul of Vercelli, "that you owe support to those who always remained faithful to your cause. So long as Milan exists, neither peace nor order is possible. You have conquered the she-wolf; your trusty sword has forced her to grovel in the dust; but that is not enough; she must be destroyed! A few years hence, and Milan, always thirsting for her neighbors' blood, will again extend her tyranny over all Lombardy. We ask for simple justice. Sire, give us justice!"

"You have every right to demand our protection," replied Frederic, "and you shall have it. We will never permit our faithful subjects to be oppressed. Milan shall be deserted, and within fifteen days all its inhabitants must leave the city, and be divided into four detachments separated from each other by a distance of at least two miles."

The monarch arose and gave the signal that the ceremony was finished.--He mounted his charger, and, surrounded by his n.o.bles, trampling under their horses' hoofs the banners which were spread out upon the ground,--returned to his camp amid the loud strains of martial music, while the Milanese wept sadly over the destruction of their much loved city.

_CHAPTER x.x.x_.

_AMUs.e.m.e.nTS_.

On the 26th of March, 1162, the victorious Emperor made his triumphal entry into the conquered city, not through the gates, but over the dismantled fortifications. Thence he proceeded with his Court to Pavia, where he celebrated his successes with extraordinary pomp, and received the envoys from the cities allied to Milan, who, despairing of preserving their liberty, came to tender their submission. Severe terms were imposed upon Brescia, Placenza, Imola, Faenza, and Bologna, while immense concessions were granted to those towns which had remained faithful to their allegiance. Barbarossa also opened negotiations with the powerful maritime republics of Genoa and Pisa, to which were secured, by a secret treaty, portions of Sicily and Catania, until a more equal division could be made of the rich treasures of the King of Naples.

In this way Frederic followed up his designs, even while he seemed most absorbed in his pleasures.