In the bosom of a tranquil valley situated near the Rhine rose the walls of a monastery, which in point of wealth was only inferior to the monks of Saint Basil in Solothurn, and to the valuable endowments and extensive possessions of the Great Lady of Zurich. Since time immemorial had this district belonged to the Lords of Carlsheim; and they were so conscious of its worth, that when they sold the rest of their estates beyond the power of redemption, they had only parted with this as a pledge. My uncle had already entered without success into various negociations with Count Werner (Ethelbert’s father) on this subject; and after the old man’s death, he had found his son equally determined never to relinquish entirely his right to “the jewel of the land,” for such was the popular name of the Cloister in the Wood. Various means were proposed to my uncle (several by the monks themselves) for subduing the obstinacy of the original possessor: but Leopold’s tender conscience thought some unjust, and some unfeeling, and every thing remained as it was.
—“Let us not,” he always answered, when prest upon this subject, “let us not rob this young man of the flattering hope, that by means of his claims on this delightful territory he may one day be enabled to get a firm footing in the land of his once opulent inheritance! I will not be the man who deprives him of it; far more willingly would I lend him my aid towards realizing his expectations, were I assured that he is really the character for which I take him. In the mean while, let him continue to feast his imagination with the hope of one day enjoying the treasures said to be buried in the Abbey of Curwald, and with the rest of those chimæras which have been painted to me in such brilliant colours for the purpose of seducing me to seize that by force of arms, to which without Ethelbert’s voluntary agreement I can never possess a satisfactory right.”—
It is but too certain, that no means were left untried, which might exasperate my uncle against Ethelbert of Carlsheim; who on his side suffered many an interested adviser to assail his ear with similar representations. Things were carried to such a length, that feudal war would certainly have been declared, and the dwellings of tranquillity must have been deluged with an ocean of blood, had not Count Venosta’s generosity induced him to give way on all possible occasions.
To talk over calmly these and similar circumstances with Ethelbert in person, such was my uncle’s object in endeavouring to throw himself in his way; and the obstinate care, with which the latter avoided every explanation, might as well be ascribed to a sentiment of false pride which made him feel humiliated by Count Venosta’s superior wealth, or to the insinuations of ill-disposed advisers, as to envy, or malignity, or any other bad feature in his character. Count Leopold and myself had always made it a rule to consider Ethelbert’s actions in the most favourable light. It is true, we had both been long the inhabitants of a court, the proper atmosphere of suspicion and mistrust; but on our first arrival among the frank and honest children of Helvetia, we dismissed those enemies of rural peace for ever, and determined to be open-hearted with those whose hearts were so open to us.
The circumstance which at length brought my uncle and Count Ethelbert together, was a dispute between the monks of Curwald and their Abbot; and which at last was carried to such a pitch, that it became necessary to refer it to the cloister’s liege-lord. But who was this same liege-lord? was it Leopold, who was in actual possession of the revenue, or Ethelbert, in whom the legal right still vested? The monks appealed from one to the other over and over again, and at length it became absolutely necessary that a meeting should take place between them, in order that the business might be finally adjusted.
My uncle had never forbidden my interference in matters, which did not exactly fall within the province of women; nor indeed would it have been in my power to remain inactive on this occasion, in which the honour and welfare of those persons who (after my uncle) were most dear to me, were very deeply implicated.
Christian, the persecuted Abbot of Curwald, was my father-confessor; the Prior Matthias, who shared with him the unmerited hatred of the monks, had been my instructor in botany, one of my most favourite studies, and which the Rhætian mountains afforded me every means of cultivating with success. I knew the excellence of both these men, and exerted all the powers of female persuasion, which consist in tears and entreaties, to keep my uncle steady in the interests of my venerable friends. I was too anxious about the issue of this affair to suffer Count Venosta to go alone to the place, which had been appointed for the interview between him and his rival. Report had informed me, that Ethelbert appeared disposed to protect the persecutors of innocence; I resolved, that he should be made thoroughly aware of the real state of the case; nor could I suppose, that any thing more could be requisite in order to obtain the decision, which I so ardently desired to hear pronounced. I was still to learn, that it is possible to act in opposition to a principle, of whose justice we are thoroughly convinced.
They say, that Female Innocence, forgetful of herself while she is occupied with the interests of others, was never known to supplicate without success. My uncle had exerted all his powers of argument without producing conviction in the bosom of the Count of Carlsheim. He was silent, and I was now permitted to advance a few representations on the subject. I spoke not much; but I spoke with force and feeling, and I flattered myself, that I could read in Ethelbert’s radiant eyes, that what I said had not totally failed of its effect. He answered not; but he cast on me a look so full of expression, that I felt my cheeks covered with blushes, hastily let fall my veil, and retreated towards my uncle:
—“Count Venosta,” said Ethelbert at length, “here is my hand! decide the business according to your own pleasure. So fair and virtuous a Damsel would never support the cause of guilt! the discontented monks shall keep their superior—and if the Abbot wishes to secure their obedience for ever, let him only request his powerful advocate to exert upon them the same powers of persuasion, which she has just now employed upon me, and he cannot fail to obtain his object. Methinks the Man might make himself Lord of the whole universe, would he but use this means, and though loaded with crimes might steal himself into Paradise, covered by the protecting mantle of such a saint.—”
These compliments seemed to me not less free than flattering. A look too of my uncle’s informed me, that they were by no means to his taste, and I quitted the room embarrassed and uneasy.