Zawis and Kunigunde/Chapter 19
CHAPTER XIX.
WRATH IN HUNGARY. LORD BOPPO AROUSED.
Intelligence of these proceedings speedily reached the court of Hungary, where Solomon, on his return from escorting the Princess Judith to Fürstenberg, still discharged his duties as chief physician. In short, his labors were neither few nor light. Not only the court attendants, but a multitude from every quarter sought his aid. Diseases concealed, or ignorantly aggravated, complaints of long continuance now grown chronic, the results of dirt, of overcrowding, of bad food;—tetanus, St. Anthony’s fire, epilepsy, paralysis, dropsy, abscess, rupture, and a thousand complications of scrofula; deafness, consumption, fistula, and even club feet, rickets, madness, with various degrees of each. In all Hungary not a hospital existed. People in their misery festered, and died in loathsomeness with few to bury them. But not a priest or layman could openly profess to understand the philosophy of the human body, or did understand it even empirically. The custom had been recently introduced from the west of applying to some holy man or his relics for special relief. St. Hubert became the curer of madness; St. Anthony, of ague fever; St. Gerbola, of hemorrhage; St Eloi, of abscess; St. Fiacrius, of fistula; St. Matthew, of mania; St. Martin, of inflammation of the lungs and throat, and of goitre; St. Apollina, of toothache. Each and all of his patients carried with him or her the emblem of the special protector and expected healer in each case. In most instances Solomon’s remedies,—and he groaned over their insufficient supply and imperfect application,—utterly rejected after failure to produce instant cure, became the cause of extreme dissatisfaction and coarse abuse. The fertility of the Orient in epidemics can be readily understood by those who know how rapidly patients throng from all quarters, even at the present day, wherever a physician from the west becomes accessible. The marvel is, and has always been, that epidemic scourges are not constant. Yet their virulence, frequency, and terrible ravages have never been and cannot be exaggerated. “And in the midst of all this,” frequently groaned the over-burdened Solomon, “I am confronted with a threat of the pains of eternal torment denounced not only against me as a supposed magician, but against every philanthropic, and reasonable person, who will laboriously investigate the means of alleviating all this terrible suffering that menaces universal humanity with the purulence of incurable corruption!”
In the midst of these labors Solomon and his royal patient received the tidings from Prague.
“I am under agreement with Lord Witek,” exclaimed Ladislaus in hot displeasure, “not to introduce my family quarrels into national relations. I believe now that all this conspiracy was planned long ago. Both Otakar and Otto, and some other German princes have accused me of excessive hostility to the Premysl dynasty. They have declared that Hungary should yet suffer, and be abandoned in her extremity, by reason of my assault on an elector of the empire. Yet Otakar wasa hero and a saint compared with the contemptible conspirator who now nominally rules at Prague.
“I am tempted to ask myself whether we shall next be threatened with eternal torment, and an anathema and an interdict, if we attempt to teach honor to princes, and instruct rulers in the common principles of truth and of hospitality. Not enough is it that our sick bodies suffer without relief, but now the fundamental sentiments of sincerity and good faith, even between kings and knights, are avowedly abrogated at the bidding of the pretended ministers of the altar. Must we suffer anathema if we disavow all such perversions of human sentiment, and demand that a man shall be a man, with the essential feelings of a man, and not an avenging, cunning beast of prey? And it is against my sister, too, that all this treachery has been aimed.
“It is a new Bohemia we have to deal with. It is a Bohemia corrupted with a strange craftiness, and an imported spirit of deceit, of mental reservation, and of malice. The open ambition of Otakar was a menace, manly of its kind; but the deceitful and dishonorable artifices of Wenzel and his court threaten us with an invasion infinitely more insidious and cankerous.”
Solomon declared that the temper of courts and of hierarchies for nearly a century threatened a wide separation between rulers and people.
“I perceive,” he said, “an arbitrary spirit of alleged divine assumption, on one side, and a restiveness and tendency to self-assertion on the other, that portend severe contests in the near future. The groans and sufferings of the one class, and the robber temper of the other, menace us with violent social convulsions.”
“Only a few days ago,” added Ladislaus,“I received by courier a message from my sister. You probably know that a dispensation released her from religious vows. She describes her joy as being for this reason, exuberant! ‘That motherhood should come to me,’ she says, ‘after I had relinquished all prospect of marriage; and that I should experience such lively hopes of family honor, is a cause of deep gratification. My baby is well and strong; but I do not know whom he resembles most. Sometimes I think when I look into my good husband’s face that my boy resembles him. They tell me he is most like me; and Zawis says he is my very image; but that is so like him. Indeed we are so happy I do not know what could add to it. And we are to have the king and queen at the baptism; and I have worked so hard to finish the lace veil for her.
“‘She will look so well in it, think. If it were not really my own work, and all I could wish in material and design, I would not think of presenting it. We feel so strong a desire to show our respect and good wishes that I have almost worked myself ill to finish it. But I am convalescing fast, and I wish you could be with us. My husband joins me in sending you every good wish. Every body seems glad here, and they are all kind and good.’
“Now,” added Ladislaus, almost in a fury, “my good brother-in-law is a prisoner in a dungeon; his wife and children, his castles and his lands are assailed by a wanton conspiracy hatched by a concubine and a bastard.”
Solomon made no attempt to allay the king’s wrath; expecting that when its transport subsided Ladislaus would listen patiently to the report he desired to lay before him.
“I would chastise Wenzel,” thundered the king, “despite the fact that he is the emperor’s son-in-law. I know Rudolph dare not defend such proceedings against my plain right and duty. I am under solemn promise to Burchard von Schwenden, the Teutonic grand master, to aid his present efforts. His knights are scarcely able to hold their own against the desperate courage of the Samlanders and Obodriti, and the men of Liefland and of Pogesania; and at times, as before Riga, they suffer bloody discomfiture. But let Bohemia beware. Other kings of Hungary will arise; and my sister’s grief at the hands of a wanton may cost the Premysls dear.”
Solomon attempted to pour oil on this blaze by alluding to the certainty that so grievous an assault on an important section of the population must alienate a multitude of minds from the Bohemian court, and thus expose the country to invite attack when divided against itself. “Aye, well,” thundered Ladislaus; “let them fight; let them tear each other; and then perhaps may come my better opportunity.”
“Such madness has often proved the ruin of nations,” sententiously interposed Solomon, “and perhaps Hungary is not free from error in that direction.”
“You are right,” exclaimed Ladislaus, looking at him sharply. “What has become of old Lord Boppo von Osterna? A braver knight or a truer spear never bore crusade tothe Baltic or elsewhere. I would the hero were younger; I would give him commission and some force behind it, to represent my challenge in Moravia.” Solomon explained that when last heard from the old man still remained at Gran; but now far advanced in years, if still alive. “I must request permission to retire by way of Gran to Moravia, under the present conjuncture,’ observed Solomon. “Should the gallant old lord be still living, I will advise your highness at once.”
“And should you do so,” replied the king, “I will authorize Lord Boppo to denounce, in my name, the King of Bohemia’s treachery; to declare him unworthy of the service of a true knight; and to announce to him openly that I shall visit on himself the just recompense of his villainy.”
“I apprehend,” said Solomon, “that King Wenzel has had the least of all the court to do with this, or in fact any other state affair. All is dictated to him from Vienna. King Wenzel does not rule in his own palace. If a challenge is to be given, let it be addressed to the real culprit at Vienna, or the still greater culprit who is Vienna’s master. We may denounce the wickedness or the folly of a king, and we may condemn his policy for not leading his nation in the way of wisdom. But a king with one voice can effect but little if a thousand pulpits thunder against him; especially as the pulpits assume to wield the powers of heaven and of hades. Wenzel holds his throne in pupilage and subjection. The new power that has dishonored the Lord Zawis is the same that conspired against Otakar, and abandoned him after exacting the best services and treasure of his kingdom.”
“In order to save time,” observed Ladislaus, “before you depart I will have a packet prepared to deliver to old Lord Boppo, should he still live. If not, you can carefully destroy it.”
Solomon promised strict compliance; and having instructed two of his nation to occupy his place, and administer to the sick as best they could, he took a speedy departure for Gran.
But here aserious embarrassment presented itself. Either Ladislaus did not know or had momentarily forgotten the close relationship between Eudocia and the old lord. He could not himself introduce so extremely delicate a topic at that moment. On the other hand Lord Boppo believed that the dreadful fate of his daughter had resulted from the direct edict of the king of Hungary. Solomon had reason to believe that if Ladislaus had been aware of even a remote family connection between the unhappy lady and his much venerated friend, not even an affront of the slightest character could have been offered to Eudocia or her husband. Under present circumstances, as Lord Boppo believed Ladislaus to be guilty, how could he be approached with a commission of any kind from the king?
How must he fulfill his promise? Could he believe, as now the facts seemed to indicate, that Brother Primus had received no direct commission whatever to perpetrate any severities at Gran? Had the king only issued a decree ayainst heresy, without authorizing extremities or any punishment without formal trial and sentence from himself? This dreadful alternative created in the calm temper of the Hebrew philosopher a sense of indignation at the possible combination of cruelty and violent assumption of authority wholly illegal and atrocious presented by the violent proceedings at Gran. “Surely,” he reflected, “the king must be innocent of any direct order, or of any order; and only a demoniac fanaticism could have assumed so much without authority.” On the other hand, Solomon well knew that in many countries, if not all through Europe, the simple denunciation of a Jew by any ecclesiastic, on his bare word and order, compelled every magistrate to imprison that Jew for a time indefinite. Only by subsidies sternly exacted could this peril be avoided. Solomon decided to ascertain the condition of Lord Boppo’s belief before he should venture to present his commission; and having cleared away possible misapprehensions, to discharge his errand with fidelity to both sides.
Armed with this resolution, Solomon learned at Gran, to his profound gratification, that the old man still lived and discharged the duties of magistrate with eminent success. Lord Boppo now presented a countenance so grand and dignified, a figure so commanding albeit stooped, and a manner at once so strict and so gracious that his authority was felt almost without its exercise. A countenance broad, rugged, and open, seamed with conflicts more from within than from any impression of awe the outer world could infuse, an affability that won affection, and a gravity that inspired confidence, a combination of reserve and geniality, and an appropriateness of diction that expressed the full subject without redundancy, enabled Lord Boppo to guide the diversified society around him with a smoothness, and impressiveness that at once attracted and guided the community.
Lord Boppo received his friend with much grave courtesy. The presence of Solomon seemed to revive painful memories; and a shade passed over the veteran’s furrowed features. Solomon observed the sign; and approached his subject with great caution. “I have just arrived,” he said, “and I have entrusted my official duties to substitutes for the present, and perhaps permanently. I do not at present expect to return to the court or its employment.
“The sufferings of the people are great. Patients afflicted with every degree and kind of ailment crowd to my insufficient remedies, and imperfect skill. Who can be equal to all the dreadful maladies around? The unhappy events at Fürstenberg and at Prague compel me to hasten to Moravia.” Boppo looked as if the intelligence had not reached him. “We are not in the direct line of commerce or of travel,” he said; “and we prefer associations with the East rather than with the West.”
Solomon narrated the occurrences leading to and, including the imprisonment of Zawis; and the alleged reasons for it so far as they had been made public at court. Boppo looked at first calm, then grave, and at last severe.
“Your judgment seems correct,” at length he said. “These unkingly and unknightly proceedings originate at Vienna. Wenzel is surrounded by vicious councilors. Personally he has been neglected in order that he might be the pliant agent that he now is. A truer knight than Lord Zawis I have not known; and the emperor has felt his hand. Chivalry repudiates, and honor abhors such proceedings. I have rejected much, I trust, of the evil principle that has invaded us.
“Should I find clear proof, after mature investigation, that Rudolph has countenanced or now fails to condemn such treachery to a gallant knight, who wore his escutcheon with more grace and more distinction than himself, I shall feel compelled to renounce and cast off forever the last token that associates me with Rudolph. I bear no commission from King Ladislaus, and I would bear none should it be offered. But my decision is taken; and I hope to have strength to discharge this last duty of knighthood before I die.” Solomon at once explained his reasons for believing that King Ladislaus was not as guilty as had been supposed. “Had he been,” he said, “he could never have mentioned your name.”
“Until we receive further explanation,” said Boppo, “you will reserve a more full statement of your errand.”