Grein performed his civic duties so firmly, albeit so smoothly and gently, that he won the love and respect of all sections of the populace.  Old and young hailed him in their hearts as the deliverer of their city from ecclesiastical tyranny.  Only Engelbert hated him with a deadly hatred, and swore to be revenged; nor was his resolve weakened when a later attempt to subdue the city was frustrated by the foresight of Grein.  It became obvious to the Archbishop that force was unavailing, for the majority of all classes were on the side of liberty, and were likely to remain so while Hermann Grein was at their head.  So he made up his mind to accomplish by means of strategy the death of the good old man.

Now there were in the monastery close by Cologne two canons who shared Engelbert’s hatred of Grein, and who were only too willing to share in his revenge.  And the plan was indeed a cunning one.  Belonging to a small collection of animals attached to the monastery was a fierce lion, which had more than once proved a convenient mode of removing the Church’s enemies.  So it was arranged that the Burgomaster should be asked to meet the Archbishop there.  The latter sent a suave message to his enemy saying that he desired to treat with him on matters connected with the civic privileges, which he was disposed to restore to the city, with a few small exceptions.  This being the case, would the Burgomaster consent to dine with him at the monastery on a certain date?

The Burgomaster consented heartily, for he was a man to whom treachery was entirely foreign, and therefore not prone to suspect that vice in others; nevertheless he took the simple precautions of arming himself and making his destination known to his friends before he set out.  When he arrived at the monastery resplendent in the rich garments countenanced by the fashion of the time, he was told that the Archbishop was in the garden.

“Will you walk in our humble garden with his Highness?” the canons asked the Burgomaster, and he, a lover of nature, bade them lead the way.

The garden was truly a lovely spot, gay with all manner of flowers and fruit; but Grein looked in vain for his host.  “His Highness,” said the wily canons, “is in the private garden, where only the heads of the Church and their most honoured guests are admitted.  Ah, here we are!  Enter, noble Burgomaster; we may go no farther.”

With that they stopped before a strong iron-bound door, opened it, and thrust the old man inside.  In a moment the heavy door had swung to with a crash, and Grein found himself in a narrow, paved court, with high, unscalable walls on every side.  And from a dark corner there bounded forth to meet him a huge lion!  With a pious prayer for help the Burgomaster drew his sword, wrapped his rich Spanish mantle round his left arm, and prepared to defend himself against his adversary.  With a roar the lion was upon him, but with wonderful agility the old man leapt to one side.  Again the great beast sprang, endeavouring to get the man’s head between its jaws.  Again and again Grein thrust valiantly, and in one of these efforts his weapon reached the lion’s heart and it rolled over, dead.  Weak and exhausted from loss of blood, the Burgomaster lost consciousness.