Frederick von Stauffen, known as the One-eyed, being desirous of providing his son Frederick (afterwards the famous emperor Frederick Barbarossa) with a wife, sent as envoy for that purpose a handsome young man named Johann von Wuertemberg, whose attractions of face and manner had made him a general favorite.  It was the beautiful daughter of Rudolf von Zaehringen who had been selected as a suitable bride for the future emperor, but when the handsome ambassador stated the purpose of his visit to the father, he was met by Rudolf with the joking remark, “Why don’t you court the damsel for yourself?”

The suggestion was much to the taste of the envoy.  He took it seriously, made love for himself to the attractive Princess Anna, and won her love and the consent of her father, who had been greatly pleased with his handsome and lively visitor, and was quite ready to confirm in earnest what he had begun in jest.

Frederick, the One-eyed, still remained to deal with, but that worthy personage seems to have taken the affair as a good joke, and looked up another bride for his son, leaving to Johann the maiden he had won.  This story has been treated as fabulous, but it is said to be well founded.  It has been repeated in connection with other persons, notably in the case of Captain Miles Standish and John Alden, in which case the fair maiden herself is given the credit of admonishing the envoy to court for himself.  It is very sure, however, that this latter story is a fable.  It was probably founded on the one we have given.

THE BISHOP’S WINE-CASKS.

Adalbert of Treves was a bandit chief of note who, in the true fashion of the robber barons of mediaeval Germany, dwelt in a strong-walled castle, which was garrisoned by a numerous band of men-at-arms, as fond of pillage as their leader, and equally ready to follow him on his plundering expeditions and to defend his castle against his enemies.  Our noble brigand paid particular heed to the domain of Peppo, Bishop of Treves, whose lands he honored with frequent unwelcome visits, despoiling lord and vassal alike, and hastening back from his raids to the shelter of his castle walls.

This was not the most agreeable state of affairs for the worthy bishop, though how it was to be avoided did not clearly appear.  It probably did not occur to him to apply to the emperor, Henry II., the mediaeval German emperors having too much else on hand to leave them time to attend to matters of minor importance.  Peppo therefore naturally turned to his own kinsmen, friends, and vassals, as those most likely to afford him aid.

Bishop Peppo could wield sword and battle-axe with the best bishop, which is almost equivalent to saying with the best warrior, of his day, and did not fail to use, when occasion called, these carnal weapons.  But something more than the battle-axes of himself and vassals was needed to break through the formidable walls of Adalbert’s stronghold, which frowned defiance to the utmost force the bishop could muster.  Force alone would not answer, that was evident.  Stratagem was needed to give effect to brute strength.  If some way could only be devised to get through the strong gates of the robber’s stronghold, and reach him behind his bolts and bars, all might be well; otherwise, all was ill.