The Sword Maker | Page 2

and Mayence, proceeded
together down the river, convoyed by a fleet containing armed men,
and thus they thought to win through to Cologne, and so dispose of
their goods. But the robber Barons combined also, hung chains across
the river at the Lorely rocks, its narrowest part, and realizing that this
fleet could defeat any single one of them, they for once acted in concert,
falling upon the boats when their running against the chains threw them
into confusion.
The nobles and their brigands were seasoned fighters all, while the
armed men secured by the merchants were mere hirelings, who fled in
panic; and those not cut to pieces by their savage adversaries became
themselves marauders on a small scale, scattered throughout the land,
for there was little use of tramping back to the capital, where already a
large portion of the population suffered the direst straits.
Not a single bale of goods reached Cologne, for the robbers divided
everything amongst themselves, with some pretty quarrels, and then

they sank the boats in the deepest part of the river as a warning, lest the
merchants of Frankfort and Mayence should imagine the Rhine
belonged to them. Meantime, all petitions to the Emperor being in vain,
the merchants gave up the fight. They were a commercial, not a warlike
people. They discharged their servants and underlings, and starvation
slowly settled down upon the distressed city.
After the maritime disaster on the Rhine, some of the merchants made a
futile attempt to amend matters, for which their leaders paid dearly.
They appealed to the seven Electors, finding their petitions to the
Emperor were in vain, asking these seven noblemen, including the
three warlike Archbishops of Cologne, Treves, and Mayence, to depose
the Emperor, which they had power to do, and elect his son in his stead.
But they overlooked the fact that a majority of the Electors themselves,
and probably the Archbishops also, benefited directly or indirectly by
the piracies on the Rhine. The answer to this request was the prompt
hanging of three leading merchants, the imprisonment of a score of
others, and a warning to the rest that the shoemaker should stick to his
last, leaving high politics to those born to rule. This misguided effort
caused the three Archbishops to arrest Prince Roland, the Emperor's
only son, and incarcerate him in Ehrenfels, a strong castle on the Rhine
belonging to the Archbishop of Mayence, who was thus made
custodian of the young man, and responsible to his brother prelates of
Cologne and Treves for the safe-keeping of the Prince. The
Archbishops, as has been said, were too well satisfied with the weak
administration then established at Frankfort to wish a change, so the lad
was removed from the capital, that the citizens of Frankfort might be
under no temptation to place him at their head, and endeavor to
overturn the existing order of things.
This being the state of affairs in Frankfort, with every one gloomy, and
a majority starving, it was little wonder that the main cellar of the
Rheingold tavern should be empty, although when times were good it
was difficult to find a seat there after the sun went down. But in the
smaller Kaiser cellar, along each side of the single long table, sat young
men numbering a score, who ate black bread and drank Rhine wine, to
the roaring of song and the telling of story. They formed a close coterie,

admitting no stranger to their circle if one dissenting voice was raised
against his acceptance, yet in spite of this exclusiveness there was not a
drop of noble blood in the company. They belonged, however, to the
aristocracy of craftsmen; metal-workers for the most part, ingenious
artificers in iron, beaters of copper, fashioners of gold and silver.
Glorious blacksmiths, they called themselves; but now, like every one
else, with nothing to do. In spite of their city up-bringing all were
stalwart, well-set-up young men; and, indeed, the swinging of hammers
is good exercise for the muscles of the arm, and in those turbulent days
a youth who could not take care of himself with his stick or his fists
was like to fare ill if he ventured forth after nightfall.
This, indeed, had been the chief reason for the forming of their guild,
and if one of their number was set upon, the secret call of the
organization shouted aloud brought instant help were any of the
members within hearing. Belonging neither to the military nor the
aristocracy, they were not allowed to wear swords, and to obtain this
privilege was one of the objects of their organization. Indeed, each
member of the guild secretly possessed a weapon of the best, although
he risked his neck if ever he carried it abroad with him. Among