Down on his knees the Bishop fell,
     And faster and faster his beads did he tell,
     As louder and louder, drawing near,
     The gnawing of their teeth he could hear.

     And in at the windows and in at the door,
     And through the walls helter-skelter they pour,
     And down through the ceiling, and up through the floor,
     From the right and the left, from behind and before,
     From within and without, from above and below,
     And all at once to the Bishop they go.

     They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
     And now they pick the Bishop’s bones;
     They gnawed the flesh from every limb,
     For they were sent to do judgment on him.

A Legend of Ehrenfels

Many other tales are told to illustrate Hatto’s cruelty and treachery.  Facing the Mouse Tower, on the opposite bank of the Rhine, stands the castle of Ehrenfels, the scene of another of his ignoble deeds.

Conrad, brother of the Emperor Ludwig, had, it is said, been seized and imprisoned in Ehrenfels by the Franconian lord of that tower, Adalbert by name.  It was the fortune of war, and Ludwig in turn gathered a small force and hastened to his brother’s assistance.  His attempts to storm the castle, however, were vain; the stronghold and its garrison stood firm.  Ludwig was minded to give up the struggle for the time being, and would have done so, indeed, but for the intervention of his friend and adviser, Bishop Hatto.

“Leave him to me,” said the crafty Churchman.  “I know how to deal with him.”

Ludwig was curious to know how his adviser proposed to get the better of Adalbert, whom he knew of old to be a man of courage and resource, but ill-disposed toward the reigning monarch.  So the Bishop unfolded his scheme, to which Ludwig, with whom honour was not an outstanding feature, gave his entire approval.

In pursuance of his design Hatto sallied forth unattended, and made his way to the beleaguered fortress.  Adalbert, himself a stranger to cunning and trickery, hastened to admit the messenger, whose garb showed him to be a priest, thinking him bound on an errand of peace.  Hatto professed the deepest sorrow at the quarrel between Ludwig and Adalbert.

“My son,” said he solemnly, “it is not meet that you and the Emperor, who once were friends, should treat each other as enemies.  Our sire is ready to forgive you for the sake of old friendship; will you not give him the opportunity and come with me?”

Adalbert was entirely deceived by the seeming sincerity of the Bishop, and so touched by the clemency of the sovereign that he promised to go in person and make submission if Hatto would but guarantee his safety.

The conversation was held in the Count’s oratory, and the Churchman knelt before the crucifix and swore in the most solemn manner that he would bring Adalbert safely back to his castle.