Zawis and Kunigunde

Front matter

6em

ROBERT H. VICKERS

ZAWIS AND KUNIGUNDE

Preface

PREFACE.

The restricted limits prescribed for this book have prevented as full a detail of minor events as the writer had proposed.

The chief incidents are all historically true. The grouping and the sequences present a revival picture of the age in which the events occurred without distortion of fact or exaggeration of statement.

Replete with strong contrasts of light and shade as the age was; rugged as the life of every people long continued; yet amid the fiercer passions arose, in vividly distinctive beauty, the gentler virtues, the loftier motives, and the purer sentiments of multitudes of individuals. Not only the essential tendencies of human nature, but the constant recurrence of human sympathies, and the ineffaceable marks of these on the surface of human life wherever peace and security permitted their display, strongly prove that women and men were not then worse than at other times, but that the prevalence of delusions more or less plausible, and all springing from ignorance of natural facts,had for a time usurped the place of better inspiration. One of the most lamentable perils to which we are all subject is the readiness we exhibit to employ the best motives for the worst purposes. A terrified imagination, a sensitive nature, and a confusion of ideas that buries an act under a feeling, will render a man or woman, essentially good, temporarily a fiend.

When a long era, under apparently divine sanction, devotes itself to the cultivation of such excitable feelings, and associates them with supernatural agencies, the result must be, and always has been, to fill the world with virtuous frenzy that destroys all virtue but that of its own distorted character. Such was the age here depicted.

The chief personages are real; the inter-play of their associations, as herein set down, is such as most naturally arose out of their historical relation with each other. No false position, improbable sentiment, or excessive coloring has been adopted.

Real life, such as this book recalls, is more replete with records containing evidence of the good oppressed, sometimes rewarded, and the evil exalted and glorified, than can be presented by the fictitious annals of ingenious invention, however skillfully or elaborately drawn.

Bohemian history contains an accumulation of such historic memorials, and here is one.

Chapter 1

CHAPTER I.

THE JOURNEY.

In the latter part of the month of August, A. D. 1278, two travelers journeyed on foot, not far from each other, along the road from Vienna towards the March. They were strangers in that country and with difficulty made themselves understood. But little opportunity existed, however, for the exercise of conversational powers, and the region seemed depopulated. In several miles not an inhabitant was encountered on the highway; and once or twice only a frightened peasant who came in sight in the cultivated portions showed himself for an instant and then hastily disappeared.

Toward evening the foremost traveler checked his steady pace occasionally and scanned the surrounding country for a symptom of possible shelter. These halts enabled the second stranger to diminish the distance between them, and, as he approached, his general appearance was scrutinized very closely by the other. The investigation, conducted on both sides with obvious attention, appeared to be mutually assuring. Neither carried a weapon, except a straight staff evidently not fashioned for combat. The fore- most one briefly addressed his companion in the Arabic language, but he only obtained in reply a sign that he was not understood. As he hesitated to speak again, not knowing of what kindred the stranger might be, he was in turn addressed in Spanish Provençal. Replying in broad Spanish and being at once answered therein, a method of communication was welcomed by each.

“A dreary prospect, brother stranger,” remarked the foremost, “and slight promise of even a bag of straw and a crust to-night.”

“Let not my brother speak so,” replied the other; “there is always a superintending eye and a ready hand for those who commit themselves to the Highest.”

“You speak worthily, excellent sir,” was the answer, a relaxed countenance indicating confidence, “and I trust that this supreme care may be extended to us, for according to appearances we shall need it. Our own potency seems to be at a limit here.”

“Our assurance of the protection of a better wisdom than our own should not deprive us of the exercise of the free faculties intrusted to us,” was the rejoinder. “Let us see what we can do to help ourselves.”

Whether the free voices were heard by sensitive ears of man or quadruped in the quiet summer air, and recognized as human, or whether more probably an indistinct sound was conveyed farther than the two men believed possible, the barking of a small dog at a distance became faintly audible. Both men had spoken with that candor and frankness of word and manner which denotes a life of naturalness and unconstraint. Looking around to discover whence probably came the sound, one of the men perceived a line of tracks through the shrubs and thickets that betokened the customary presence here of that elementary indication of civilization, a herd of swine.

“Not an inviting symbol,” said the other, when these tokens of habitation were pointed out to him, “but probably the associations of the forbidden creature may possess redeeming opportunities. We are not to avoid that progress towards perfect reason which apparently trivial circumstances frequently supply to us in daily life, during our advance to perfection, which is the end of all being.”

Following the track thus presented, the strangers advanced along an irregular and circuitous, but, considering the unevenness of the ground, a remarkably level line; and before long found themselves in presence of a congeries of huts formed out of the broken walls of what had previously been a large and pretentious edifice. Dogs barked, scared children ran hither and thither, women appeared at doors and at once retired. The strangers stood and looked around, and then at each other without speaking. An old man with long white hair and beard presented himself, and with an air indicating fallen fortunes saluted the strangers. His language was unintelligible. Spanish, Arabic, Provençal, were tried without effect. German he would not or could not understand; it was difficult from his air to determine which. At length he uttered a few words in Greek, and was at once perfectly comprehended by one of the strangers. From the implements of husbandry visible it was clear that younger men still inhabited the place, but they were nowhere seen. A simple meal and a lodging were cheerfully provided as soon as it became ascertained that the visit was not accompanied with evil intentions. The old gentleman waited upon his guests himself, and left them to their repose, complete masters of one of the huts which constituted the complex habitation.

“What are they?” eagerly inquired the old lady of the place as soon as all was quiet. “What does it mean, do you think? More emissaries to do the evil work of our destroyers? More secret agents of the hated Latin man come to uproot our ancient faith and show his myrmidons the by-ways of our land that he may grasp our inheritance to nourish his persecuting superstition? What think you, father?”

“Be assured, good heart,” said the old man, “our new friends are no servants of the Latin tyrant. They are both men of grave, if not reverend aspect, and express themselves with all due ceremony. The elder is somewhat swarthy of complexion, and I judge about fifty years of age. From his dress and language I consider him a Hebrew of the Spanish stock, and I should infer a man of sound learning after his system. His dress corresponds to his personality, and is of the Hebrews’, without ostentation or concealment. His language is that of a scholar; and his mode of address is that of the modern school patterned after the pagan maxims of the unenlightened days, but reverenced by men of Eastern mental tastes. His companion is younger, and if I mistake not, is one of our brethren whose fathers’ home was in the sunny fields of France ere the whirlwind of cruelty drove them forth to such shelter as we and our neighbors can supply. I judge that he is bound on a mission of faith to our brethren in Hungary and Poland. He has learned some of the Dalmatian speech too, as he took occasion to let me perceive, and I infer that he bears a message from the exiles along that coast. He is less of a philosopher than his companion; but I doubt not that his heart is of the purified, and his light is from the Enlightener of men. But I marvel that our new friends have ventured hither at this moment, when the deadly embrace of death again menaces all. The new sworn ally of the Latin tyrant is again bearing down against us, and I fear that our gallant King must succumb to the treacherous combination that assails him.”

“But the books, father,” earnestly rejoined the old lady, “did you secure them from prying eyes, and possibly hands of covetousness or destruction? You know the Hebrews are no friends of the inspired wisdom of our revelation.”

“Be assured again, good heart,” said the old man; “our friends are not likely to injure or remove the sources whence is derived the hospitable and enlightening spirit that sheds harmony over the home of the one, surrounded as he is by many creeds and races, and secures to the, other that brotherly welcome of which the books themselves furnish the most appropriate example and result. The Hebrew stranger is encompassed in his own home by an atmosphere of culture, and his friends are among the educators of men. I doubt not that his associations are of the learning and the splendor of Cordova, and that he has drunk deep of the widely diffused maxims of Saadia and the sages of Sora. Nowhere have I seen more generous rivalry in the search for the true and the good than in the schools of Andalusia; and nowhere does the human heart blossom out into more devoted search for the divine which they have not yet found. The brightest colors of human aspiration after the good and best are there displayed undimmed by the dark shades of calculating demon-craft in the west, which struggle by every undivine and unhallowed stimulus of the baser passions to crush out the gentle research into the works of the omnipotent which brings the divine in the human soul into such sweet harmony with the equally divine things around it. Let us repose in peace, good heart. It is not from our new friends that my apprehensions arise, but from some probable new troubles that may have suggested their journey.”

“Let us congratulate ourselves,” exclaimed the Hebrew stranger, “on the peaceful shelter we have obtained. Far better is a humble abode like this than the best of the resorts where travelers usually take lodgment. Such places are frequented by footpads, and those who conduct them are usually the associates of robbers. Here, I am well assured, we are secure.”

“Did I not remind you of the protection of a better wisdom than our own?” replied the other.

“Truly you did; but it appears to me that it was the exercise of the faculties conferred upon you by the all-pervading power which is diffused everywhere, and of which your intelligence is a constituent part, that composed the protecting agency. Let men cease to put those faculties in operation and we have no evidence whatever of a governing mind. We take nothing without demonstration.”

“The supreme mind,” said the other cautiously, “does not appear to me to need any aid from us. Its operations are of its own volition; and that volition is benevolence and universal interposition.”

“On that theory,” dryly responded his friend,“ it is hard to account for the ruins that surround us, and the oppression which seems to impede the good efforts and the noble human feelings that seem to animate our worthy host. His heart is not without benevolence, and he interposes where he can; and it is difficult to account for the want of sympathy evidenced in these days, and in all days ancient and modern, towards such worthy persons by the supreme benevolence you speak of. But let us not wrangle ourselves out of our rest. We need all the repose we can secure.”

The apartment occupied by the wayfarers really consisted of an addition to an addition to the original hut of the congeries. Similar additions and expan- sions existed on the other sides, until the entire collection constituted a small hamlet of itself, but constructed around and attached to an original residence now forming the center of the group. Each addition seemed to constitute a separate abode, and to have been added on as ason introduced a daughter-in-law to the original family, or a daughter had settled down with her husband beside her parents, who ruled the increasing family in real patriarchal form, and with full patriarchal cordiality. The present chamber seemed to be habitually occupied by some members of the family, and contained a small rough box set on end, with one shelf, in which were some twenty books, old and worn and discolored. One volume lay on the top of the box and had evidently been recently used. It was a fair manuscript copy of the gospels in Greek, and contained some illumination in that exceedingly delicate tracery which interwove flowing lines and patterns so frequently into themselves in their endless convolution that pattern became lost, and a general sense of beauty without fixedness or form was presented. This book was opened by the younger man and examined by both with joyful surprise.

“See,” said the elder, “an apt symbol of the wisdom which pervades all things, and diffuses itself everywhere alike from the infinite treasury of nature. All this commingled beauty without beginning, without end, spreads a charm all over whereof each part is a constituent portion, by which each part is produced as it is, and to which each lends its aid in turn. So is the diffused wisdom which composes and is composed by the world around us.”

“And the hut we are in,” responded the younger with a faint smile, “is a constituent portion of that beauty, and the life of our host is omitted altogether.”

The Jew looked grave, and said he could explain the mystery, he thought, on his principles.

“But how came that book here, think you?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing is more simple,” was the reply. “The doctrines held in this region for two hundred years and more were directly taught by Greeks. Cyril and Methodius were commissioned from Constantinople, and their mission was in full sympathy with the faith that pervaded all Eastern and a large portion of Western Europe for many centuries. Their language also was formally permitted here in compliance with the uninterrupted communication with the Northern Church in Constantinople. It is, however, cultivated now only by a few.”

The speaker here incautiously permitted himself to betray a greater knowledge of the traditions of the country than had been his purpose. He therefore added, “I have heard these things from travelers, because my country was long associated with these regions by trade in furs and silks, and horses and wool.” He then laid down the volume, and after performing his devotions without noticing whether any similar proceeding was observed by his companion, rest was speedily attained in asleep that was as quiet as it was welcome.

The morning sunrise beheld the venerable host on the alert to attend to the comfort of his guests. Breakfast consisting of coarse bread, apparently of barley and millet, and wild venison accompanied with home-brewed beer promised a substantial support for the expected fatigue of the coming journey. “You will need it all and more,” replied the old man in answer to a remark on his munificent hospitality. “The country you will pass through has been, I fear, ravaged and wasted in all directions. Already the destroyers have crossed the March, and scattered bands of them are even now plundering the helpless cottagers in Moravia. I fear that dreadful woes await us here. The ruin inflicted by the Tartar hordes in my youth was indeed a shocking sight, but even they disappeared almost as speedily as they came. Now we have a foe that will seize us in his talons and tear us with his ravenous beak. He is a foe that has come to stay; and he is more pitiless than the insatiate bird that emblems him. The skull and bones that figured the Tartar carnage might be appropriately borrowed by the new destroyers. The former created a desolation of death; the latter will set up a living pandemonium.”

“We have but recently reached these borders,” exclaimed the strangers in rapid succession. “We have carefully abstained from discussions, and from association indeed with those we meet.” “I have ensconced myself in the quietest corners,” declared the Jew, “and have passed along as if no outward purpose moved me. Journeying swiftly and in silence, I have escaped molestation, and I can with difficulty comprehend the cause of your extreme apprehension. In my country we are menaced with troubles, and I have devoted little attention to this.”

“The explanation might be tedious,” replied the venerable host. “Be thankful, then, if you escape the impending storm. After three days you will be beyond its fury for the present. We are in its track, and our land, I fear, shall be an Æolian bag of tempests for a long time. Be cautious, and be not surprised, and I would gladly see you safe again.”

The old man then filled the pouch of each wayfarer with the same substantial viands that had served for breakfast, adding, “You will need it. Should you pass this way again, my friends, or either of you, and the miscreants who torment us should spare our hovels, or should we have no more for them to convert into palaces of idleness and superstition,” said the old man again when his guests tendered their farewell greeting, and the security of his company rendered free speech permissible, “and you will honor my humble abode with your respected presence, I hope that the results of events now transpiring will enable me to do you as much honor as I could wish.” Thereupon the Jew, placing his hand on the old man’s shoulders, imprinted a kiss upon his lips, saying: “My honored friend, most welcome shall your roof be to my eyes should I so far progress in that evolution which brings wisdom, and advance in that soul-growth which leads to perfection, as to be able meetly to appreciate the divine life which unity with the all-pervading soul has nourished up in yourself. Accept this trifling token of my esteem, and let it remind you that the illumination which is the essence of the soul is not united to any one phase of its manifestation, or any one degree of its essential potency. The universal reason of which we are emanations, and to which we must return,is immanent in all alike, and constitutes our eternal and necessary brotherhood,and merges all our natures into one. Though we may never meet we shall mingle, and again and again partake in the diffusion of living intellect through the universe.”

While he yet spoke he drew forth from what seemed to be the skin of his arm, but was in reality a leather armlet dyed to perfection, four fine rings of gold, each apparently notched in two places. Stringing them together through a fine diagonal slit, and adjusting the notches, he formed of the four one gold ring handsomely chased and forming a three-stranded coil of gold. Then loosing them again a little and bringing them close to each other, he showed to the old man the Arabic inscription:—“Ibn Roschd”—formed in distinct characters by the different chasings. Closing the rings into one again, with grave obeisance he presented it to his host. “My name,”—he added, “I need not fear to give, and if your progress towards the universal essence should require or permit your presence at Cordova, be assured that Solomon Ben Gerson will welcome his brother in the spirit as his own soul. We are not as we once were,” he added sadly, “but the hearts of our fathers beat in our breasts.”

The old man melted under this touching address. Seeing that further greetings would oppress a heart now overflowing, the younger traveler cordially embraced his host, merely adding: “Receive the blessing of the Lord through his pilgrim Pietro Felice.”

“Now, my brothers,” finally said the old patriarch, “as I am well assured of your fidelity, and I feel in my heart that essential unity of being through the manifestations of its divine lovingness which makes all men of kin with each other and with the great Lord of all love, permit me to gratify myself by directing your steps towards another shelter far more worthy than mine. Should you escape the casualties that I fear you must encounter, direct your steps to the borders of Moravia and Bohemia, and at the secure castle of the lord Zawis you will find congenial associations and cordial welcome. In order to assure you an unquestioned reception present this token. It was the cognizance under which the lord Zawis’ honored father fought at Remové when our brave but too confiding King founded Königsberg, and originated a new power in Europe.” In silence the old man presented to Solomon a small silk banner apparently taken from a knight’s lance. The colors were white and red in parallel bars, the white above, and in the center was emblazoned in embroidery a black eagle. “I fear our cognizance has been changed,” added the old man, “but if you will quietly present that symbol the lord Zawis will know whence it comes. A member of my family is there, and will gladly hear a message from hence.”

Thereupon he dismissed his guests with a low obeisance.

Chapter 2

CHAPTER II.

THE CAMP.

“Truly a noble and a reverend veteran,” exclaimed the Jew to his companion when they had reached a little distance; “and a stout one too in his day, I doubt not. Marked you his erect and sinewy frame, his open countenance, his eye, round, full and fearless? It would be strange if our venerable host had not wielded a trenchant toledo with Louis at Damietta and Mansoora.”

“And it would be stranger still,” replied his companion, “if the same toledo, and the ambition to wield it under the deceitful suggestions and urgings that goaded men to assume the cross in those days, were not the cause of those ruined walls and that premature decadence of fortune which has brought the old man to what he is. Not the love of Christ nor yet zeal for the honor of his sepulcher has dictated those furious paroxysms of insanity that have blinded the world since the first one perhaps honestly preached by the Hermit. Through their deadly influence nobles have been pauperized and cities enslaved. Through them magistrates have been abolished and monasteries substituted for them. The widows and orphans of zealots who fell beneath famine, disease and the sword at Antioch and Dory- leum, at Odessa and Jerusalem, have perished from want on their own land and in their own homes, while the tonsured spoiler of their substance reveled in luxury and wantonness in those rich valleys which the unreasoning fanaticism of their possessors left deserted, to be the spoil of the grasping hierarchy that remained. No more cunning and daring plot for the plunder of princes and kingdoms under the guise of religion has ever been imposed upon mankind.”

The Jew regarded his companion with a thoughtful smile. The outburst of indignant feeling that had just expended itself contrasted strangely with the circumspection that had hitherto marked the pilgrim, as he styled himself.

“My thanks for your confidence, brother; it shall not be abused. I think I could find parallels in other faiths to the cruel greediness you have justly denounced. Perhaps mankind has not yet discovered the Source of Life. And yet the essential constituent of enlightenment necessarily enters into the being of every human soul. Men who dwell ‘on the face of the whole earth’ are not only of one blood, but of an identical mental constitution. From that boundless and eternal unity of power diffused through all the range of being all things are. All the modes of this activity are itself in various manifestations and degrees. The unity of its elements, if there be such, is absolute, and there can be no dependence or coercive force. Power cannot exist without instrumentalities; and those in which it clothes itself are suited to the combinations in which the classes of its activities are conjoined in every object. The omnipresent activity conjoins these kinds in various proportions. Hence men are not only of that power, but they are that power according to its manifestations in each. The unity of all being is eternal, immutable, but it has displayed itself alike in all ages. The diversities of combinations and results that we witness in this age spring from no new principle.”

“The power you speak of,” replied the pilgrim, “is interpreted to us as the omnipotent Being who diffuses his presence everywhere, and by his fiat calls all things that are into the being that he confers upon them. He bestows gifts on men for their eternal welfare and for his glory, and exacts nothing in return but their trust and obedience. He purifies and exalts every spirit that communes with him, and no part of his works is deprived of the tenderness of his love.”

“The perfection of a rational soul,” replied the Jew, “is reached when it becomes a mirror of the universe; when the unity of tendency that prevails in the universe is reflected in it. All activity in natural forces is towards the divine tendencies which alone can sustain the marvelous manifestations of good that are everywhere. Our nature is thus purified and perfected and prepared for complete reunion with the divine essence. But stay, who and what are these?”

At an elevated point of the road about.a mile or more before them, a cloud of dust suddenly arose, and in the midst of it appeared horsemen riding furiously.

The travelers hurriedly turned aside into the thickets, and worked their way with all speed in an angular direction into the broken forest. Hiding among some rocks where horsemen could not easily pursue, they waited for the enemy, if they should prove such. The travelers had been perceived, for as soon as the horsemen arrived near the place where they had been seen they halted, and pointed towards the forest with loud cries and threatening gestures. They were a wild, fierce, dirty and forbidding troop. The small snub noses, high cheek bones, sunken fiery eyes, and streaming hair of Tartars could not be mistaken. They wore caps of sheepskin, and brandished long spears with horse-hair pennons. Their saddle was a sheepskin strapped on with hide, and between this saddle and the horse were stretched strips of meat. They did not venture into the thickets, and soon disappeared again along the road the travelers had just traversed.

After this incident the wayfarers advanced with great circumspection, listening for every sound, and scanning the road before them from every available point. At length smoke appeared in the forest. Some heavy, lumbering wagons with broad wooden wheels, each consisting of two solid semi-circles of wood joined and fastened together with thick wooden pins, were drawn up on the edge of the road, and among the trees. A long series of smoldering fires became perceptible. More wagons, oxen, with here and there a horseman,came into view, and the neighborhood of a camp was clearly recognized. Were they friends or foes? became a serious question. Turning aside again into the forest, the strangers cautiously felt their way towards the skirts of the camp. Looking through the undergrowth, they perceived that it was not strictly speaking a military encampment they had reached, but rather the motley equipment of a crowd of men and women apparently of the lowest and most ruffianly character. Groups of half ragged men lay here and there, apparently in a state of intoxication. Some low sheltering hovels of branches were occupied by women who bori over soiled and mean raiment, rich shawls and velvets, brocades of costly descriptions which they flaunted with mock dignity. Scattered here and there were rich saddles and pieces of armor. In one place a group of men were busily examining a chest that had been broken open, and holding up the contents to the common gaze. Fine linens, silks and laces were dragged out without regard to value. A pendant lamp with a chain of gold was reached and held up with a shout of savage satisfaction. A necklace of pearls created another peak of hoarse triumph, and a small casket inlaid with ivory and silver was fiercely contended for by the coarse and vulgar crowd. A party of ferocicus plunderers had been in pursuit of spoil, and the abodes of industry and opulence and gentle life had furnished the coveted booty. Silver coin was not lacking, for handfuls of large pieces, each bearing the name of Otakar, were offered by one and another for each rich prize as soon as a possessor had violently asserted his right of seizure. Garments of fur covered the persons of burly robbers, and pelisses of white and scarlet silk adorned the figures of abandoned and unkempt women.

While this scene was being watched by the amazed strangers, another body of plunderers reached the camp by the road that led towards the March. They brought with them several wagon loads of household and wardrobe stuff, and sacks of meal, with meat and cheese and wine. The plunder was evidently only beginning, and much more might be expected. With special glee the new-comers exhibited several chalices of silver, patens of the same material, and lamps and ecclesiastical vestments. In gratification seemingly of especial hatred, the chalices were flung on the ground and stamped on. As this procedure was slow and ineffectual, the vessels were set wherever a projecting rock was found and pounded with stone until all shape had as nearly as possible disappeared. A coat of mail formed of rings and with a Greek cross worked of steel plates on the breast was adopted by a lusty ruffan, who donned the manly garment to exhibit it in mockery to the crowd. At length the wine was distributed, and a scene of ghastly hilarity soon ensued. Through want of vessels the ruffans employed their united hands held to their mouths at the wrists, and had the costly beverage poured thus into their throats. Rough familiar- ity speedily led to quarreling, and much of the rich garniture that decked the ruffians was torn into shreds. Blows with deadly weapons and spear thrusts followed, and the plundered victims could have witnessed a large measure of retaliation had they been present. At length a noise of horses approaching at the gallop became audible, and our horrified observers recognized the same Tartar troop returning from their reconnaissance. They bore some trophies of their visit. One carried a crusader’s sword and helmet, and another held across his horse before him a bag filled with plunder recently acquired. The party rode up to a horseman stationed on the road in front of the camp, and having seemingly made their report, all the horsemen in the place, Tartars without exception, rode off towards the March.