Chapter XLII · THE ABBEY OF CLUNY.

The Abbey of Cluny belonged to the most illustrious of the religious orders, and controlled two thousand convents distributed throughout Christendom and Palestine. It was not only a pious sanctuary, but also a school, the renown of which extended beyond the seas. Unlike the monks of the other orders who were chiefly engaged in agriculture and field labors, the peaceful denizens of Cluny were entirely devoted to study and the pursuit of science, and attached a greater value to their manuscripts than to any material treasures. Many were constantly occupied in transcribing the works of the Fathers of the Church, and even those of the pagan writers of antiquity. The volumes intended for the church service were richly illuminated in order to be more worthy to appear upon the altar. The Church itself was enriched with pictures, sculpture, and works of art. The dormitories, the halls, and the refectory were filled with masterpieces, and resembled a vast museum destined to defend the fine arts against the ravages of time.

The cathedral, which was the largest in the world, was a marvel of Roman architecture, and everything in it so magnificent, that Saint Bernard could not resist expressing his discontent.

"What use is there of this amazing height, this immense width and endless length, of these sumptuous ornaments, which attract the gaze of the faithful, but distract their attention?" he wrote to Peter, the venerable Abbot of Cluny. "Why all these candelabras studded with precious stones, these costly paintings and works of art? Is it through honor to the Saints that you walk over their images and spit upon those of the Holy Angels? Why these sublime representations on a pavement which must be covered with dust?"

In the opinion of the austere monk of Citeaux, the study after the beautiful was far inferior to that of godliness, and he imagined that the former injured the latter. The most liberal hospitality was lavished in the abbey on all travellers of every rank; women only were excluded; and precise rules specified the manner of the reception of strangers according to their rank and quality. At different times Cluny had entertained Pope Innocent IV., twelve Cardinals, with their entire suite, two patriarchs, three Archbishops, and eleven Bishops, and the King of France, with his mother, brother, sister, and the whole court; the Emperor of Constantinople, the heirs-apparent to the crowns of Castile and Aragon, and several Dukes with their knights and retinues. Still the good monks continued to live in rigorous asceticism; and their liberality to others often reduced them to extremities of privation. They watched over the poor of the neighborhood, and each week the pious brothers sought out the sick and wretched, to administer succor and consolation. On one occasion, during a famine, the Abbot Odilon sold the church ornaments, even to a crown, which had been presented to the monastery by the Emperor Henry II., in order to relieve the wants of the suffering members of Jesus Christ.

Although hospitality was considered an obligation by all the cloisters of the Catholic world, Rechberg was surprised at the scale on which it was dispensed at Cluny; and the presence of the Pope increased the concourse of travellers. Each day came and went messengers to and from all parts of the world; and Erwin heard on all sides a perfect Babel of the most different tongues. Pilgrims were arriving from Greece and Spain, from Muscovy, England, and Arabia, to prostrate themselves before the Apostolic throne. The Roman Empire alone was not represented at Cluny, through fear of the powerful displeasure of the Emperor Barbarossa.

Rechberg admired the learning, the energy, and the grave dignity of the monks, and never before had he experienced so deeply the influence of Catholicity. The Pope appeared to him to be the heart of Christendom, uniting the two extremities; for Frederic's authority was as nothing compared with that of the Holy Father. When he contrasted the Emperor's creature, the false Pope Victor, with the venerable Pontiff, the Head of the Church, he smiled with pity and contempt.

"My godfather will be obliged to subdue the universe," he said to himself, "if he wishes to make the Holy Pope his vassal."

Erwin had resided in Cluny for about a fortnight; the novelty at first amused him, but Antonio's words constantly recurred to his memory, and although full of anxiety to ascertain their truth, a sentiment of duty retained him at the abbey;--he could not desert the unfortunate Clemence.

One day, upon leaving the princess, now more resigned and collected, since she had ascertained with what paternal interest she was looked upon by Alexander, Rechberg was met by the lay brother, a worthy man, who hitherto had done him the honors of the monastery.

"Are you already at liberty, brother Severinus?" asked the Count. "I scarcely thought it was yet time for vespers."

"The good fathers are about going to the choir, and we will take advantage of their absence; you would lose a great deal, Count, if you were to leave us without seeing the pictures in the refectory."

"I don't doubt it; let us go there now." As they were crossing the court-yard, where crowds of strangers were walking beneath the shade of the oak-trees, Rechberg suddenly perceived a man whose face appeared familiar; he had seen him at Castellamare where he had been pointed out by Hermengarde. It was Nigri's servant, Cocco Griffi, and our hero stood still, watching his movements and hoping for an opportunity to address him.

"There is no want of curiosities here," said brother Severinus, remarking his guest's astonishment, "for we have every variety of costume and language. Look at that Arab with his bright eyes and white teeth; he and the grave and haughty Castilian by his side are envoys from the King of Navarre." Just then Erwin lost sight of Cocco Griffi.

"Our painters often come here," resumed the monk, "to study faces and details of which I know nothing; I saw the other day in one of the artist's cells a representation of the devil, which was the living image of a Moor who had been here;--I will show it to you."

Rechberg had not been mistaken. Cocco Grim, in company with a monk, entered a two-storied house where persons of the middle class were lodged. The monk mounted on the steps to examine the red marks traced upon the wall, and then, turning towards Cocco,--

"It is here that Antonio lives," he said, "if you want him."

Griffi went in. The spy was waiting, and at first looked up as though not well satisfied with the interruption; but as soon as he recognized his visitor, he rose and went forward, cordially.

"Cocco! is that you? What good wind brings you here?"

"A miracle, my dear Antonio; when you know it you will be surprised, and, it may be, somewhat provoked."

"I will wager that your master has been doing something absurd; is not that the case?"

"Yes, you have guessed it. My master and the lady of Castellamare are on their way to Cluny; I was sent ahead to announce to you this masterpiece of diplomacy."

Antonio looked at Griffi with amazement, and then broke out, angrily.

"This is a beautiful piece of business, indeed! That ass never had any brains! He will spoil everything! The young girl will come here; she will meet the Count, and all my plans will be thwarted. What imprudence! I suppose he has told her that Rechberg is here with the Duchess, and that on his return he is to marry Richenza; is that it?

"Yes, all but the marriage."

"That's it; he concealed the only thing which he ought to have told."

"Oh, he talked of nothing but Erwin and Richenza, Richenza and Erwin."

"Well, what then?"

"Then! oh, Hermengarde asserted that she was under a vow to make a pilgrimage to Cluny, and that she would no longer delay it."

"The pretext was a good one,"

"Then my master offered to accompany the young person."

"And she refused?"

"Two or three times, but Pietro insisted. They will be here to-morrow at the latest, and my master promises to conduct the affair to your entire satisfaction. You may count upon his gratitude."

Antonio smiled as he heard the last words, for he knew that Pietro possessed immense wealth in Lombardy.

"The affair has miscarried," he said to himself, pacing the room. "But Hermengarde cannot lodge in the cloister; she must stay in the village, and as Cluny opens its gates but once a week to women, it will be a mere chance if she and Rechberg meet."

He turned towards Griffi. "Where are you living?" he asked. "Near the gate; one of the windows overlooks the street."

"Be on the lookout, and let me know as soon as they arrive."