A MEDIAEVAL PROPHECY.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXII, Issue 11, 12 July 1895, Page 25

A MEDIAEVAL PROPHECY.

It was in the year 1007. At the Castle of Ingelheim Count Hugues refused all consolation, and no longer attended court ; the chase bad lost all its attractions for him ; despondent, he kept himself shut np in his magnificent fortress, which commanded Alsace and all the surrounding country. His old chaplain, seeing this glominess deepen, ventured one day to say to him :—: — "My lord, I pray you what is the cause of your grief ? I have many reasons to think that it rises from come secret that weighs heavily upon you." "It is true, but what would it avail to disburden myEelf ? The evil would still remain." " For yoor happiness it may be," replied the venerable priest. •' Alas 1 there is no happiness for me," said the Count. " I have ehed blood. Ihe crime has never been expiated and it tortures my soul." " There is no fault too great to be pardoned if humbly confessed." •' There is no pardon for me," returned the unfortunate man. "I cannot be absolved — I am excommunicated, and the innocent blood which I have shed has been crying to heaven for vengeance these many years." •' The Church removes excommunication," said the priest. " Well, Father listen to the horrible tale, whose secret has worn me away with shame and grief, and you will see that I am past all remedy. The Counts Hedwig bore me, as you know, three sons, * who were the pride of our honse. Two of them were suddenly snatched away by death, and their mother did not long survive them. Sorrow almost depiived me of reason, and I wished to be

interred with her. Instead of seeking strength in prayers, I gave myself up to despair, and went wandering about in the forest. Thera I one day met an old Druideas. In place of avoiding her, as I should bave done, I coneulted her on my melancholy state of mind, and she uttered these strange words . ' Lord Count, I read iv the future tha you will one day do great penance. Tou will travel, poor and bare* foot, while yonr son shall rule in great splendour ; and, after a long journey, I see you kneeling before his throne, kissing his feet. This will happen. ... I say co more." And she disappeared,

'■ This prediction haunted my mind day and night, I sought to find out what it could signify, and, absndoning prayer, became the prey of an evil spirit. Thenceforward I could not meet my darling little Bruno without mentally seeing myself barefooted and humiliated before this rebellious son. Bruno will take my place ; this new Absalom will supplant his father, wilt seize upon bis lands and vassals. This cursed child is » set pent, which I nourish only to be destroyed by it. Better no son thao a traitor. Would it not be better that he die while yet innocent and rejoin bis saintly mother and brothers than live to be a reprobate ? Such were my reflect tione.

" I yielded to the suggestions of the demon that posaed me, and one morning ordered Hurt, a servant whom I had elways found faithful and obedient, to take the boy hunting. ' Attend well,' said I to him, 'to what I tell you. Lead him into the depths of the forest, and there shoot him through the heart. The latter yon will then bring back to me as a proof that you have executed my command.' The trusty hunter replied not a word— he knew that I would not permit it ; his grief was apparent, but he bowed acquiescence, and alas ! obeyed me. Soon after I saw him, bow in hand, enter the) forest with the five-year-old child, who, at all times, was a marvel of beauty, but never did be eeem to me so amiable and gracious as at that moment. Yet I did not call him back.

" Hurt returned at nightfall and presented me the heart of the child on the arrow which had pierced it. I swor« him to secrecy and

retired wi hmy trophy. Tlv air >w haa been fixed in my own heart ever since and tortures me unceas'nL'l v ."

Here the Count ended his history and torrents of tears burst from hie eyes.

The chaplain had listened with terror to his confidential narration of the fearful tragedy, but, reverthelesp, suppressed his emotion. «*

" I will pray for you. It is true neither I nor even the bibhop can absolve you ; but courage I Go to Rome, to our Holy Father the Pope ; to him is reserved the right of absolving from the crime of infanticide. He will free you trom your excommunication, and if you do penance you shall be saved."

"Be saved I What must Idoto be saved ? I am ready to perform any penance you can impoße on me." "Boldly lake the pilgrim's staff, cover your head with ashee, clothe yourself with sackcloth, and walk barefoot to Rome. This penance will surely obtain your pardon from the Holy Father." At these words a gleam of hope flitted across the heart of the guilty old maD, He accepted the salutary advice, crossed over hill and vale, neither ice nor snow arresting his stepa till he arrived in Italy. In this beautiful country the olive tree, which he had never seen on the Rhine, seemed to Btretch its branches toward him as a token of peace. He continued his long journey with eagerness. When he came to the banks of the Tiber, he entered a church in which many miracles had been wrought. There he prayed most fervently. Arrived at Rome, the city of the Popes, he prostrated himself upon the ground and kissed the dust. Boon afterwards be preßebted him at the Apostolic palace end was immediately admitted to an audience with the Holy Father. He fell upon his knees, kissed the feet of Christ's Vicar and begged him to hear bis confession.

Leo IX., whose great charity was known to tbe whole world, heard him patiently to the end, pressed him to bis bodom and said : " My soo, tby soul is as crimson eg blood, but the blood of thy Saviour will wash it white as snow. I unbind tby excommunication, and in the name of Jesus Christ I absolve thee : ' Dominus,' etc." At thes* words the poor culprit fell prostrate on the floor and made an act of deep contrition. When he arose the Holy Pope said unto him, with inr Sable sweetness : — " I can give you good news of your eon." "You know, O Holy Father, that he is in Heaven with his mother." " Mo ; your son Bruno, whom you believe to be dead, is alive, and you shall see him." " Can that be possible ?" "Your faithful servant Hurt did not kill him. He brought you the heart of a stag he had killed instead of your Bon. Him he confided to the care of a saintly widow in order to shield him against your fury." " Holy Father, are you sure? Where is he, I pray you ?" " Listen to his history : The holy woman to whom he had been confided, brought him, when five years old, to Berthold, the Bishop of Toul, saying that she was bis mother, and that she had consecrated him to God. Tbe good Bishop felt kindly for tbe little fellow, and gave him a warm welcome. He bad Bho under bis care several othpr youths, with whom Bruno was educated. Finally, he became a monk and was sent on a mission to the Emperor Conrad, who conceived an affection for him and brcuebt him into Lombardy, where Herriman, the new Bishop of Toul, suffering from a severe illness at the time, charged him with the care of raising the King's force in the diocese. He was then only a deacon and twenty-three years of egp. This n«w employment was very unusual for a cleric, but God blessed his efforts, and, tbe Bishop succumbing to bis malady, the clergy aod people of Toul elected Bruno to replace htm. He qaitttd Limbardy, and by extraordinary intervention of heaven, escaped the snares of his enemies, who took his escort prisoner, he himeelf having judiciously chosen to travel alono. At Toul he w.is received with public acclamation—" " But, Holy Father," interrupted the old m^n," this is the history of yourself that you tell me 1 ' "It is, nevertheless, your son's. I have not forgotten the lineaments of your facr, neither has the memory of thai terrible morning e^er left me. And now, father, allow me to waah the pilgrim's feet." And tbe great Pope — a glimpse of whom had been given ye?ns before by permission of God to tbe old Druiie-s— as he knelt before the aged pilgrim washing his feet, in no way resembled the rebellious son Absalom.— Exchange.