With choice examples of glorious warlike deeds Ekkehard then tried to inspire his auditors; and many a hand fiercely grasped the spear, and many a foot was lifted impatiently from the ground, when he spoke of Joshuah, who with the Lord's help had conquered thirty-one kings, on the other side of the Jordan;--and of Gideon, who with loud sounding trumpets, entered the camp of the Midianites, and drove them before him unto Bethesda and Tebbath;--and of the sally of the men of Bethulia, who after Judith's glorious deed, smote the a.s.syrians with the edge of the sword.

But at the end, he quoted the words, which Judas Maccabaeus, had spoken to his people, when they erected their camp at Emaus, before going out to fight the army of King Antiochus. "Arm yourselves and be valiant men, and see that ye be in readiness against the morning, that ye may fight with these nations, that are a.s.sembled together against us to destroy us and our sanctuary."

For a moment, after he had ended, there was perfect silence, but soon arose a great stir among the men, and a rattling and clashing of arms was heard. Swords and shields were knocked together, spears lifted and badges waved in the air; all, as signs of hearty approval, according to old custom. "Amen," was repeated from all sides, whilst the whole a.s.sembly fell on their knees, as the high-ma.s.s was reaching its close.

The wooden rattles, instead of the usual church-bells, thrilled them with awe. Everyone who had not yet taken the holy sacrament, went up to the altar, to receive it. But now from the watch-tower was suddenly heard the cry, "to arms! to arms! the enemy is coming! A dark ma.s.s of riders and horses are moving towards us from the lake!" and now there was no longer any possibility of keeping back the eager men, who were all pressing towards the gate; Abbot Wazmann having scarcely time to p.r.o.nounce a blessing over them.

So, in our days does the fisher-man of the north, run out of the church on a Sunday, at the time when the shoals of herrings are approaching.

"The fish are coming," cries the watch-man on the sh.o.r.e, and the moment afterwards, every man is hurrying away, towards the boats. Forsaken and alone, stands the clergyman,--so his devotions are also at an end and he seizes the nets likewise to wage war upon the scaly tribe.

Thirsting for the coming battle, the troops left the court-yard; each heart swelling with the soul-stirring conviction, that a great and important moment was at hand. The monks of St. Gall, mustered sixty-four, those of the Reichenau ninety, and of the arrier-ban men, there were above five hundred. Close by the standard of the cross of the brotherhood of St. Gall, walked Ekkehard. It was a crucifix, veiled in black c.r.a.pe, with long black streamers; as the monastery's banner had been left behind.

On the balcony stood the d.u.c.h.ess, waving her white handkerchief.

Ekkehard, turning round, looked up at her, but her eyes evaded his, and the parting salutation was not meant for him.

St. Mark's coffin had been carried down to the lower castle-gate, by some of the serving brothers. Everyone touched it with the points of his lance and sword, and then silently pa.s.sed on.

In the wide plain, stretching out towards the lake, Simon Bardo drew up his troops, and one could see how pleased the old field-marshal was, that his scar-covered breast again wore the accustomed mail, instead of the monk's habit. His head was covered by a strangely shaped, pointed steel morion; his broad, jewel-set girdle, as well as the gilt handle of his sword, indicated the ancient general.

"You read the cla.s.sics, on account of the grammar," said he to the Abbots, "but I have learnt my _handicraft_ from them. With the military advice of Frontinus and Vegetius, one may still achieve something even now-a-days. First we will try the battle-array of the Roman legions; for in that position one can best await the enemy, and see what he means to do. Afterwards, we are still at liberty to change our tactics, for affairs will not be settled between us in half an hour."

The light corps of the archers and sling-bearers were ordered to occupy the border of the wood, where they would be sheltered by the fir-trees, against any attack on horseback. "Take low aims," said he, "for even if you should merely hit the horse instead of the rider, it is always something." At the sound of the bugle, the troop advanced to execute his commands. As yet, nothing was to be seen of the enemy.

The men of the arrier-ban, he arrayed in two close ranks. With levelled lances they slowly advanced; a s.p.a.ce of a few steps remaining between the two files. The knight of Randegg, and the gaunt Friedinger, commanded them.

The monks, Simon Bardo collected into one compact body, placing them in the rear.

"Why this?" asked Abbot Wazmann, inwardly hurt, at losing the honour of heading the attack. But Bardo, experienced in war, smilingly replied: "Those are my Triarians; not because they are veteran soldiers, but because they are fighting for their own warm nests. To be driven out of house and home and bed, makes swords cut deepest, and spears thrust fiercest. Don't be afraid, the tug of war, will yet draw the disciples of St. Benedict into the strife."

The Huns had left the monastery of Reichenau at early dawn. The provisions were all consumed, the wine drunk, and the cloister pillaged; so, their day's work was done. Heribald's forehead lost many a wrinkle, when the last of the Hunnic riders had pa.s.sed out of the cloister-gate. He threw after them a golden coin which the man from Ellw.a.n.gen, had secretly thrust into his hand. "Countryman, if thou shouldst hear that a mishap has befallen me," said Snewelin, "I trust that thou wilt let a dozen ma.s.ses be read for my poor soul. I have always befriended you and your fellow-monks, and how I have fallen amongst the heathens, I scarcely can understand myself. The soil of Ellw.a.n.gen is unfortunately too rough and stony, for producing saints."

Heribald, however, would have nothing to do with him. In the garden, he shovelled up the bones and ashes of the burnt Huns and their horses, throwing them into the lake, whilst the Huns were still visible on the other side. "No heathen dust shall remain on the island," said he. Then he went to the cloister-yard, and thoughtfully stared at the place, where he had been forced to dance on the day before.

Meanwhile, the Huns were riding through the dark fir-wood towards the Hohentwiel. But as they were thus cantering along, heedless of all danger, here and there a horse began to stagger, and arrows and other sharp missiles flew into their ranks, sent by invisible hands. The vanguard began to slacken rein and to halt; but Ellak, giving the spurs to his horse, cried out: "Why do you care for the stinging of gnats?

forwards, the plain is a better field of battle!"

A dozen of his men were ordered to stay behind, in order to protect the baggage and camp followers, against their hidden enemies. The ground echoed with the tramp of the advancing horde, and as soon as they reached the plain, they spread their ranks, and uttering a wild howl, advanced to meet the approaching column of the arrier-ban.

Far ahead rode Ellak, accompanied by the Hunnic standard-bearer, who was waving the green and red flag over his head. Uttering a piercing cry, the chieftain now lifted himself high in the saddle, and then shot off the first arrow, thus opening the battle according to old custom; and now the b.l.o.o.d.y fight began in good earnest. Little availed it to the Suabian warriors, that they stood firm and immovable like a wall of lances; for although the horses recoiled before it, a shower of arrows were sent at them from the distance. Half raised in the stirrups, with the reins hanging over their horses necks, the Huns took aim, and generally their arrows. .h.i.t the mark.

Others, came on from the sides, and woe to the wounded, if his companions did not take him into the centre.

Then the light troops intended to come out of the fir-wood, and attack the Huns from behind. The sound of the bugle again collected them together; they advanced,--but quick as thought, their enemies' horses were turned round, and a shower of arrows greeted them. They staggered, only a few advanced, but these also were thrown back, so that finally Audifax was left alone, bravely marching along. Many an arrow whizzed round his head, but without minding them, or once looking back, he blew his bag-pipe, as was his duty. Thus he came right into the midst of the Hunnic riders. But now his piping stopped suddenly, for in pa.s.sing, one of the Huns had thrown a noose over his head. Trying hard to resist, Audifax looked around, but not a single man of his troop was to be seen. "Oh Hadumoth!" cried he mournfully. The rider took pity on the brave fair-haired boy; so instead of splitting his head, he lifted him up into the saddle, and galloped away to the place where the Hunnic train had stopped, under the shelter of a hill. With erect figure, the woman of the wood stood on her cart, intently gazing at the raging battle. She had dressed the wounds of the first Huns who fell, p.r.o.nouncing some powerful charms over them, to stop the bleeding.

"Here I bring you someone to clean the camp-kettles!" cried the Hunnic rider, throwing the boy over, so that he fell right into the cart, and at the feet of the old woman.

"Welcome, thou venomous little toad," cried she fiercely, "thou shalt get thy reward sure enough, for having shown the way up to my house, to that cowl-bearer!" She had recognized him at once, and dragging him towards her, tied him fast to the cart.

Audifax remained silent, but scalding tears fell from his eyes. He did not cry though on account of being taken prisoner, but he cried from another heavy disappointment. "Oh Hadumoth!" sighed he again. Yesterday at midnight he had sat together with the young goose-driver, hidden in a corner of the fire-place. "Thou shalt become invulnerable," Hadumoth had said, "for I will give thee a charm against all weapons!" She had boiled a brown snake, and anointed his forehead, shoulders and breast with its fat. "To-morrow evening I shall wait for thee in this same corner, for thou wilt surely come back to me, safe and sound. No metal can do anything, against the fat of a snake." Audifax had squeezed her hands, and had gone out so joyously into battle,--and now!...

The fighting was still going on in the plain, and the Suabian combatants not being used to battle, began to get tired already. With an anxious expression Simon Bardo was watching the state of affairs; and with an angry shake of the head, he grumbled to himself: "the best strategy is lost on these Centaurs, who come and go, and shoot at a distance, as if my threefold flanks stood there only to amuse them. It would really be well, if one were to add a chapter to Emperor Leo's book on tactics, treating of the attack of the Huns."

He now approached the monks, and dividing them again into two bodies, ordered the men of St. Gall to advance on the right, and those of Reichenau, on the left; then wheeling about, so that the enemy, having the wood at his back, was shut in by a semicircle. "If we do not surround them, they will not let us get at them," cried he, flourishing his broad sword in the air. "So now to the attack!"

A wild fire was gleaming in all eyes; and on the point of starting, they all dropt down on their knees; each took up a clod of earth, and threw it over his head that he might be consecrated and blessed by his native earth; and then they rushed on to battle. Those of St. Gall struck up the pious war-song of "_media vita_." Notker the stutterer, once pa.s.sed through the ravines of the Martistobel, in his native land, when a bridge was just being built over the yawning precipice. The workmen were hanging suspended over the giddy height, and at that sight, the idea rose in his soul, how in our life we are always walking on the edge of the abyss of Death, and so he composed those verses. Now they served as a sort of magic song, which was to protect them, and bring death to their enemies. Solemn, sounded its strains from the lips of the men going into battle:

"Though yet we live, by Death we are surrounded, And ever near, his messengers are staying.

Whom could we choose, to help us in great danger, But Thee, oh Lord! The judge of all the living!

Almighty G.o.d!"

And from the other wing the monks of the Reichenau were singing:

"Long our fathers for Thy coming panted, And Thou redeemedst them from sin and sorrow, Up to Thy throne arose their wailing voices, And Thou didst not reject their tears and prayers, Thou Lord of hosts!"

And from both sides, was then heard together:

"Forsake us not, when our strength is failing, He our staff, when courage is departing, Oh, not to bitter Death, give up Thy children, Almighty G.o.d, in whom we all are trusting, Merciful G.o.d, great G.o.d of all the Heavens, Oh Lord forsake us not! Have mercy on us!"

Thus they stood in close combat. With unmitigated surprise the Huns had beheld the approaching columns. Howls, and the hissing, devilish cry of "hui! hui!" was their response to the "_media vita_." Ellak likewise, now divided his hors.e.m.e.n for a regular attack, and the fighting continued fiercer than ever. The Hunnic hors.e.m.e.n soon broke through the ranks of the small body of the monks of St. Gall, and a close fight then began. It was strength, wrestling with swiftness, German awkwardness, against Hunnic cunning.

The earth of the Hegau was then dyed red, with the blood of many a pious man. Tutilo, the strong, was slain. He had pulled down a Hun from his horse by the feet, and swinging the wry-faced wretch through the air, split his skull against a stone; but a moment afterwards, an arrow pierced the temple of the h.o.a.ry warrior. Like the victorious hymns of the heavenly host, it sounded through his wounded brain,--then he fell down on his slain foe. Sindolt the wicked, atoned for many a bad trick which he had played his brothers in former times, by the death-wound in his breast; and nothing did it avail Dubslan the Scot, that he had made a vow to St. Minwaloius, to go bare-foot to Rome, if he would protect him in this battle,--for he also was carried dead out of the tumult.

When the blows rained down on the helmets like hail-stones on slate-roofs, old Moengal drew his hood over his head, so that he could look neither to the right nor to the left; then throwing away his spear, he cried, "out with thee now, my old Camb.u.t.ta." Unbuckling his beloved shilalah, which had accompanied him, fastened to his back, he now stood like a thrasher on the barn-floor. For some time a horseman had capered around him. "_Kyrie eleison_" sang out the old man, breaking the horses' skull at one blow. With both feet the rider jumped to the ground: grazing Moengal's arm with his crooked sabre. "Heigho,"

exclaimed he, "in spring 'tis a good thing to be bled; but take care, little surgeon!" aiming a blow at him, as if he wanted to strike him ten fathom deep into the ground. But the Hun evaded the blow, and whilst doing so, the helmet fell off and disclosed a soft and rosy face, framed in by long wavy tresses, interwoven with red ribbons.

Before Moengal could think of aiming another blow, his antagonist jumped up at him like a tiger-cat; the young, fresh face approached his, affording him as it were in his old days an opportunity of culling a kiss from coral lips; but the moment after, he received a sharp bite on his cheek. Clasping his a.s.sailant, he felt a soft and slender waist. "Take thyself away, goblin," cried he. "Has h.e.l.l sent out her she-devils also?" Here, another bite, for the sake of symmetry, saluted him on the left cheek. He started back, but before he had raised his bludgeon again, Erica had jumped on a horse which had lost its rider, and gaily laughing she rode away, swift as a dream that vanishes at c.o.c.kcrow....

In the middle of the arrier-ban fought Master Spazzo the chamberlain, heading a troop. The slow advance had rather pleased him, but when the fight seemed to come to no conclusion, and men were clinging to each other, like the hounds to the deer in a chase,--then it became rather too much for him. A dreamy, pensive mood came over him in the midst of the raging battle, and only when a pa.s.sing rider pulled off his helmet, as an acceptable booty, was he roused from his meditations, and when the same, renewing the experiment, tried to drag off his mantle, he cried out angrily: "is it not yet enough, thou marksman of the Devil?"

dealing him at the same time a thrust with his long sword, which pinned the Hun's thigh to his own horse. Master Spazzo then thought of giving him the deathblow, but on looking into his face, he found it so very ugly, that he resolved to bring him home to his mistress, as a living memento of the battle. So he made the wounded man his prisoner. His name was Cappan, and putting his head under Master Spazzo's arm, in sign of submission, he grinned with delight, showing two rows of shining white teeth, when he perceived that his life had been spared.

Hornebog had led his troops against the brothers of the Reichenau. Here also, grim Death was reaping a rich harvest. The cloister-walls glistened in the distance over the lake, like an appeal to the combatants to exert their utmost strength; and many a Hun who came within reach of their swords, found out that he was treading on Suabian ground, where heavy blows are as plentiful as wild strawberries in summer. But the ranks of the brothers also were considerably thinned.

Quirinius the scrivener was resting for ever from the writing-cramp, which had caused the spear in his right hand to tremble. Beside him, there fell Wiprecht the astronomer, and Kerimold the master of salmon-fishing, and Witigowo the architect;--who knows them all? the nameless heroes, who met a glorious end, on that day!

Only one of the monks had reason to be grateful to a Hunnic arrow, and that was brother Pilgeram. He was born at Cologne on the Rhine, and had carried his thirst of knowledge, as well as a mighty goitre to St.

Pirmin's isle; where he was one of the most learned and most pious monks; but his goitre increased and he became hypochondriac over the ethics of Aristotle, so that Heribald had often said to him: "Pilgeram I pity thee." But now a Hunnic arrow pierced the excrescence on his throat. "Farewell, friend of my youth!" cried he on sinking down; but the wound was not dangerous, and when his consciousness returned, he felt his throat as well as his head considerably lightened, and from that moment, he never opened Aristotle again.

Round the standard of St. Gall, a select body of men had rallied. The black streamers still floated in the air from the image on the cross; but the contest was doubtful. With word and action, Ekkehard encouraged his companions not to give way, but it was Ellak himself who fought against them. The bodies of slain men and horses c.u.mbered the ground in wild disorder. He, who survived had done his duty, and when all are brave, no single heroic deed can claim its special share of glory. Sir Burkhard's sword had received a new baptism of blood in Ekkehard's hands, but in vain had he fiercely attacked Ellak the chieftain; for after having exchanged a few blows and thrusts, they were separated again by other combatants. Already the cross, towering on high, began to stagger, aimed at by unceasing arrows, when a loud cry of surprise rang through the ranks; for from the hill on which stood the tower of Hohenfriedingen, two unknown hors.e.m.e.n in strange looking armour, came galloping at full speed towards the scene of battle. Heavily one of them, who was of mighty bulk, sat on his steed. Both shield and harness were of antiquated shape, but the faded golden ornaments indicated the high birth, of the wearer. A golden band encircled his helmet, from which a tuft of red feathers waved. His mantle fluttering in the wind, and his lance levelled, he looked like a picture of the olden times; like King Saul in Folkard's psalm-book riding to meet David. Close by his side rode his companion, a faithful va.s.sal, ready to succour and protect him.

"Tis the archangel Michael!" cried some in the christian ranks, and with this their strength rallied. The sun was shining brightly on the strange rider's arms,--like an omen of victory,--and a few moments later the two were in the midst of the battle. He, with the gilt armour was looking about for a worthy antagonist, which he soon found, for when the Hunnic chieftain's keen eyes had spied him out, his horse's head was turned towards him. The spear of the stranger knight pa.s.sed harmlessly by him, missing its aim; and Ellak's sword was already raised to deal him the death blow, when the va.s.sal threw himself between the two. His broad sword merely struck the enemy's horse, so, bending his head forwards, to catch the blow meant for his master, the faithful shield-bearer found his death.

With a loud, clattering sound Ellak's horse fell to the ground, but before the sound had quite died out, the Hun had already recovered his feet. The unknown knight raised his mace, to break his enemy's head, but Ellak, with his left foot placed tightly on the body of his dead courser, pressed back the raised arm with his sinewy hands, trying at the same time to pull him down. Then, face to face, the two mighty ones began wrestling, so that those around them ceased fighting, to look on.

With a cunning movement, Ellak now seized his short sword, but just when he lifted his arm, his antagonist's mace came down slowly but heavily on his head. Yet his hand still dealt the thrust, and then lifting it up to his forehead, over which the blood was running in streams, Ellak reeled back on his war-horse, on which a moment later the Hunnic chieftain angrily gave up the ghost.