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EKKEHARD.
Hadumoth.
The night, which had appeared long and dreary to those who had been entrusted with the watch on the battle-field, was passing away. The horror of Death lay over the whole valley. "The Lord be merciful unto their souls," sounded the low-voiced call of the watchman. "And deliver them from the sufferings of purgatory, Amen!" was the response of his companions, who were cowering round a campfire, on the border of the pine-wood. The deep black shadows of night lay over the bodies of the slain, as if the Heavens compassionately wished to hide what human hands had done there. At dawn of day, even the clouds disappeared, as if they also were driven away by the horror of the sight beneath them; others came, and likewise fled, ever changing their shapes and forms; losing one to assume another,--everything is restless, except in Death, where eternal rest is found. Friend and enemy, side by side as they had fallen, still lay there; quiet and calm.
One slight figure like that of a child, the watchman saw gliding over the battle-field. It bent down; walked on, and bent down again, and ever continued its search; but he dared not call to it. He stood like one that is spell-bound. "Probably it is the angel who is marking their foreheads with a letter, so that they can be recognized, when the spirit will return to their bodies, on the day of resurrection," thought he, remembering the words of the prophet. Silently he crossed himself, and when he looked again, the figure had vanished.
The morning dawned, and there came a number of men from the arrier-ban, to relieve the monks. The Duchess had sent them; although Simon Bardo was not quite satisfied with this arrangement. "A victory is but half a victory, if it is not followed up, by pursuit of the enemy. We ought to go after them, until the last of them are annihilated," he said. But the monks insisted on their return on account of the Easter holidays, and the others said: "Before we could catch those, on their swift horses, we should have far to go. They have come to us, and we have beaten them, and if they should come again, we have more blows in store for them;--the work of yesterday deserves rest."
Then it was determined upon, that the dead should be buried before the break of Easter Sunday.
So the men fetched their spades and hoes, and dug two wide graves. On one side of the field there was an abandoned gravel-pit, which they widened into a spacious resting-place. This last was destined for the dead Huns. Arms and harnesses were taken off and collected; forming a considerable heap in all. Then the corpses were thrown down; one after the other, as they were brought. It was a mass of torn members, repulsive to the eye; men and horses in wild confusion; a throng, as when the rebellious host of angels fell down into hell.
The pit was filled. One of the grave-diggers came and brought a solitary head with cleft forehead and fierce expression. "Most likely that belongs also to the heathens, and may look for its trunk below," quoth he, throwing it down into the pit.
When the whole field had been searched, without their discovering any more Hunnic bodies, they covered up the huge grave. It was a burial without solemnity;--sundry curses, instead of blessings were called down, and ravens and other birds of prey, hoarsely screeching, fluttered about in great numbers. Those who inhabited the rocks on the Hohenkr?hen, and the dark pine-wood beneath, had all come, Moengal's hawk among them; and they were evidently protesting by their cries, against thus losing their rightful prey. With a hollow sound the clods of earth and pebbles fell into the wide grave. Then the deacon of Singen came, with the vase of consecrated water, with which he sprinkled the mound, in order to banish the demons, and keep down the dead who rested in the stranger earth. A weatherbeaten piece of rock, which had some time since fallen down from the Hohentwiel, was finally rolled on to the Hunnic grave, and then they went away shivering, to get ready the second tomb, which was to receive their own dead. All those who had belonged to the ecclesiastical state, were to be buried in the cloister-church at Reichenau.
At the same hour in which the battle had begun the day before, a solemn procession descended from the Hohentwiel. These were the men who had won the battle. They advanced in the same order as on the day before, but their gait was slow, and their standard was muffled in black crape. On the watchtower of the castle, the black flag had likewise been hoisted. The Duchess herself, rode also with the train, dressed in dark sober-coloured garments, which gave an unusually serious and severe expression to her face. The dead monks were carried on biers, to the brink of the great tomb, so that they should participate in the last homage rendered to their fellow-champions. When the last notes of the litany had died away, Abbot Wazmann approached the open grave, pronouncing the farewell greeting and offering up the thanks of the survivors to the ninety six who lay there so pale and still, side by side.
"Blessed be their memory, and may their remains rest in peace, until the day of resurrection! May their names descend unto posterity, and may the glory of the holy champions, bring down a blessing on their children!" Thus he spoke in the words of the Preacher, throwing down when he had ended the first handful of earth; the Duchess, as well as the others following his example one by one. After this, there ensued a solemn silence, as all those who had fought together on the day before, were to separate again after the funeral; and many a hard-featured face waxed soft; and many a kiss and hearty shake of the hand were exchanged at parting.
Those of the Reichenau, were the first who set out for their monastery. The biers with the dead were carried along; the brothers walking by their sides, bearing lighted tapers, and chanting psalms. The corpse of the old man from the Heidenh?hlen, long weary of life, they had also taken along with them. With bent-down head, the war-horse of the unknown warrior, covered with a black cloth, walked by its side. It was a gloomy and sad spectacle withal, to see the long funeral train slowly enter the pinewood, and then disappear amid the gloom.
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